tc.thebearandthedragon-第67部分

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place　like　this；　it　did　require　a　steady　hand。　Hitch　had　that；　and　he　was　apparently　well　liked　by　the　rest　of　the　diplomatic　munity；　which　didn't　hurt。
　It　was　all　new　for　Mark　Gant；　however。　The　room　was　impressive；　like　the　boardroom　of　a　major　corporation…designed　to　keep　the　board　members　happy；　like　noblemen　from　medieval　Italy。　It　had　high　ceilings　and　fabric…covered　walls…Chinese　silk；　in　this　case；　red；　of　course；　so　that　the　effect　was　rather　like　crawling　inside　the　heart　of　a　whale；　plete　with　chandeliers；　cut　crystal；　and　polished　brass。　Everyone　had　a　tiny　glass　of　mao…tai；　which　really　was　like　drinking　flavored　lighter　fluid；　as　he'd　been　warned。
　〃It　is　your　first　time　in　Beijing？〃　some　minor　official　asked　him。
　Gant　turned　to　look　down　at　the　little　guy。　〃Yes；　it　is。〃
　〃Too　soon　for　first　impressions；　then？〃
　〃Yes；　but　this　room　is　quite　stunning。。；　but　then　silk　is　something　with　which　your　people　have　a　long　and　fruitful　history；〃　he　went　on；　wondering　if　he　sounded　diplomatic　or　merely　awkward。
　〃This　is　so；　yes；〃　the　official　agreed　with　a　toothy　grin　and　a　nod；　neither　of　which　told　the　visiting　American　much　of　anything；　except　that　he　didn't　waste　much　money　on　toothbrushes。
　〃I　have　heard　much　of　the　imperial　art　collection。〃
　〃You　will　see　it'　the　official　promised。　〃It　is　part　of　the　official　program。〃
　〃Excellent。　In　addition　to　my　duties；　I　would　like　to　play　tourist。〃
　〃I　hope　you　will　find　us　acceptable　hosts；〃　the　little　guy　said。　For　his　part；　Gant　was　wondering　if　this　smiling；　bowing　dwarf　would　hit　his　knees　and　offer　a　blow　job；　but　diplomacy　was　an　entirely　new　area　for　him。　These　were　not　investment　bankers；　who　were　generally　polite　sharks；　giving　you　good　food　and　drink　before　sitting　you　down　and　trying　to　bite　your　dick　off。　But　they　never　concealed　the　fact　that　they　were　sharks。　These　people…he　just　wasn't　sure。　This　degree　of　politeness　and　solicitude　was　a　new　experience　for　Gant；　but　given　his　pre…mission　brief；　he　wondered　if　the　hospitality　only　presaged　an　unusually　hostile　meeting　when　they　got　to　business。　If　the　two　things　had　to　balance　out；　then　the　downside　of　this　seesaw　was　going　to　be　a　son　of　a　bitch；　he　was　sure。
　〃So；　you　are　not　from　the　American　State　Department？〃　the　Chinese　man　asked。
　〃No。　I'm　in　the　Department　of　the　Treasury。　I　work　directly　for　Secretary　Winston。〃
　〃Ah；　then　you　are　from　the　trading　business？〃
　So；　the　little　bastard's　been　briefed。。。　But　that　was　to　be　expected。　At　this　level　of　government　you　didn't　freelance　things。　Everyone　would　be　thoroughly　briefed。　Everyone　would　have　read　the　book　on　the　Americans。　The　State　Department　members　of　the　American　crew　had　done　the　same。　Gant；　however；　had　not；　since　he　wasn't　really　a　player　per　Se；　and　had　only　been　told　what　he　needed　to　know。　That　gave　him　an　advantage　over　the　Chinese　assigned　to　look　after　him。　He　was　not　State　Department；　hence　should　not　have　been　regarded　as　important…but　he　was　the　personal　representative　of　a　very　senior　American　official；　known　to　be　part　of　that　man's　inner　circle；　and　that　made　him　very　important　indeed。　Perhaps　he　was　even　a　principal　adviser　to　the　Rutledge　man…and　in　a　Chinese　context；　that　might　even　mean　that　he；　Gant；　was　the　man　actually　running　the　negotiations　rather　than　the　titular　chief　diplomat；　because　the　Chinese　often　ran　things　that　way。　It　occurred　to　Gant　that　maybe　he　could　fuck　with　their　minds　a　little　bit。。；　but　how　to　go　about　it？
　〃Oh；　yes；　I've　been　a　capitalist　all　my　life；〃　Gant　said；　deciding　to　play　it　cool　and　just　talk　to　the　guy　as　though　he　were　a　human　being　and　not　a　fucking　munist　diplomat。　〃So　has　Secretary　Winston；　and　so　has　our　President；　you　know。〃
　〃But　he　was　mainly　an　intelligence　officer；　or　so　I　have　been　told。〃
　Time　to　stick　the　needle：　〃I　suppose　that's　partly　true；　but　his　heart　is　in　business；　I　think。　After　he　leaves　government　service；　he　and　George　will　probably　go　into　business　together　and　really　take　the　world　over。〃　Which　was　almost　true；　Gant　thought；　remembering　that　the　best　lies　usually　were。
　〃And　you　have　worked　some　years　with　Secretary　Winston。〃　A　statement　rather　than　a　question；　Gant　noted。　How　to　answer　it？　How　much　did　they　really　know　about　him。。；　or　was　he　a　man　of　mystery　to　the　Chims？　If　so；　could　he　make　that　work　for　him。。。？
　A　gentle；　knowing　smile。　〃Well；　yeah；　George　and　I　made　a　little　money　together。　When　Jack　brought　him　into　the　cabinet；　George　decided　that　he　wanted　me　to　e　down　with　him　and　help　make　a　little　government　policy。　Especially　tax　policy。　That's　been　a　real　mess；　and　George　turned　me　loose　on　it。　And　you　know？　We　just　might　get　all　of　that　changed。　It　looks　as　though　Congress　is　going　to　do　what　we　told　them　to　do；　and　that's　not　bad；　making　those　idiots　do　what　we　want　them　to　do；〃　Gant　observed；　looking　rather　deliberately　at　the　carved　ivory　fixture　on　the　wooden　display　cabinet。　Some　craftsman　with　a　sharp　knife　had　spent　a　lot　of　time　to　get　that　thing　just　right。　。　。　So；　Mr。　Chinaman；　do　I　look　important　now？　One　thing　about　this　guy。　He　would　have　been　a　pretty　good　poker　player。　His　eyes　told　you　nothing　at　all。　Not　a　fucking　thing。　Gant　looked　down　at　the　guy　again。　〃Excuse　me。　I　talk　too　much。〃
　The　official　smiled。　〃There　is　much　of　that　at　times　like　this。　Why　do　you　suppose　everyone　gets　something　to　drink？〃　Amusement　in　his　voice；　letting　Gant　know；　perhaps；　who　was　really　running　this　affair。。。？
　〃I　suppose；〃　Gant　observed　diffidently　and　wandered　off　with　the　junior…or　was　he？…official　in　tow。
　For　his　part；　Rutledge　was　trying　to　decide　if　the　opposition　knew　what　his　instructions　were。　There　had　been　a　few　leaked　hints　in　the　media；　but　Adler　had　arranged　the　leaks　with　skill；　so　that　even　a　careful　observer…and　the　PRC　ambassador　in　Washington　was　one　of　those…might　have　trouble　deciding　who　was　leaking　what；　and　to　what　purpose。　The　Ryan　administration　had　utilized　the　press　with　a　fair　degree　of　skill；　probably；　Rutledge　thought；　because　the　cabinet　officers　mainly　took　their　lead　from　Ryan's　chief　of　staff；　Arnie　van　Damm；　who　was　a　very　skillful　political　operator。　The　new　cabinet　didn't　have　the　usual　collection　of　in…and…out　political　figures　who　needed　to　stroke　the　press　to　further　their　own　agendas。　Ryan　had　chiefly　selected　people　with　no　real　agenda　at　all；　which　was　no　small　feat…especially　since　most　of　them　seemed　to　be　petent　technicians　who；　like　Ryan；　only　seemed　to　want　to　escape　Washington　with　their　virtue　intact　and　return　to　their　real　lives　as　soon　as　they　finished　serving　their　country　for　a　short　period　of　time。　The　career　diplomat　had　not　thought　it　possible　that　his　country's　government　could　be　so　transformed。　He　assigned　credit　for　all　this　to　that　madman　Japanese　pilot　who'd　killed　so　much　of　official　Washington　in　that　one　lunatic　gesture。
　It　was　then　that　Xu　Kun　Piao　showed　up；　sweeping　in　to　the　greeting　room　with　his　official　entourage。　Xu　was　General　Secretary　of　the　munist　Party　of　the　People's　Republic　of　China；　and　Chairman　of　the　Chinese　Politburo；　though　referred　to　in　the　media　as　the　country's　〃Premier；〃　which　was　something　of　a　misnomer；　but　one　adopted　even　in　the　diplomatic　munity。　He　was　a　man　of　seventy…one　years；　one　of　the　second　generation　of　Chinese　leaders。　The　Long　March　survivors　had　long　since　died　out…there　were　some　senior　officials　who　claimed　to　have　been　there；　but　a　check　of　the　numbers　showed　that　if　they　had；　they'd　been　sucking　their　mothers'　nipples　at　the　time；　and　those　men　were　not　taken　seriously。　No；　the　current　crop　of　Chinese　political　leaders　were　mainly　the　sons　or　nephews　of　the　original　set；　raised　in　privilege　and　relative　fort；　but　always　mindful　of　the　fact　that　their　place　in　life　was　a　precarious　one。　On　one　side　were　the　other　political　children　who　craved　advancement　beyond　their　parents'　places；　and　to　achieve　that　they'd　been　more　Catholic　than　the　local　munist　pope。　They'd　carried　their　Little　Red　Books　high　as　adults　during　the　Cultural　Revolution；　and　before　that　they'd　kept　their　mouths　shut　and　ears　open　during　the　abortive　and　predatory　〃Hundred　Flowers〃　campaign　of　the　late　'50s；　which　had　trapped　a　lot　of　intellectuals　who'd　thought　to　keep　hidden　for　the　first　decade　of　Maoist　rule。　They'd　been　enticed　into　the　open　by　Mao's　own　solicitation　for　their　ideas；　which　they'd　foolishly　given　out；　and　in　the　process　only　extended　their　necks　over　the　broad　block　for　the　axe　that　fell　a　few　years　later　in　the　brutal；　cannibalistic　Cultural　Revolution。
　The　current　Politburo　members　had　survived　in　two　ways。　First；　they'd　been　secured　by　their　fathers　and　the　rank　that　attached　to　such　lofty　parentage。　Second；　they'd　been　carefully　warned　about　what　they　could　say　and　what　they　could　not　say；　and　so　all　along　they'd　observed　cautiously；　always　saying　out　loud　that　Chairman　Mao's　ideas　were　those　which　China　really　needed；　and　that　the　others；　while　interesting；　perhaps；　in　a　narrow　intellectual　sense；　were　dangerous　insofar　as　they　distracted　the　workers　and　peasants　from　The　True　Way　of　Mao。　And　so　when　the　axe　had　fallen；　borne　as　it　had　been　by　the　Little　Red　Book；　they'd　been　among　the　first　to　carry　and　show　that　book　to　others；　and　so　escaped　the　destruction　for　the　most　part…a　few　of　their　number　had　been　sacrificed；　of　course；　but　none　of　the　really　smart　ones　who　now　shared　the　seats　on　the　Politburo。　It　had　been　a　brutal　Darwinian　process　that　they　had　all　gotten　through　by　being　a　little　smarter　than　those　around　them；　and　now；　at　the　peak　of　the　power　won　for　them　by　brains　and　caution；　it　was　time　for　them　to　enjoy　that　which　they'd　earned。
　The　new　crop　of　leaders　accepted　munism　as　truly　as　other　men　believed　in　God；　because　they'd　learned　nothing　else；　and　had　not　exercised　their　intellectual　agility　to　seek　another　faith；　or　even　to　seek　solutions　to　the　questions　that　Marxism　could　not　answer。　Theirs　was　a　faith　of　resignation　rather　than　enthusiasm。　Raised　within　a　circumscribed　intellectual　box；　they　never　ventured　out　of　it；　for　they　feared　what　they　might　find　out　there。　In　the　past　twenty　years；　they'd　been　forced　to　allow　capitalism　to　blossom　within　the　borders　of　their　country；　because　that　coun