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　〃Even　if　we　wished　to　crush　Taiwan；　unless　we　opted　for　nuclear　weapons；　it　would　require　years　and　vast　amounts　of　treasure　to　construct　the　means　to　make　it　possible；　and　then　it　would　be　a　vast　risk　to　little　profit。　Better　that　the　People's　Republic　should　grow　so　successful　economically　that　they　e　begging　to　us　to　be　let　back　into　the　family　home。　They　are　not　powerful　enemies；　after　all。　They　are　scarcely　even　a　nuisance　on　the　world　stage。〃　But　for　some　reason；　they　were　a　specific　nuisance　to　his　Premier；　Zhang　reminded　himself；　like　some　sort　of　personal　allergy　that　marked　and　itched　his　sensitive　skin。
　〃We　have　lost　face；　Zhang。　That　is　enough　for　the　moment。〃
　〃Face　is　not　blood；　Xu；　nor　is　it　treasure。〃
　〃They　have　ample　treasure；〃　the　Premier　pointed　out；　still　not　looking　at　his　guest。　And　that　was　true。　The　small　island　of　Taiwan　was　immensely　rich　from　the　industrious　effort　of　its　mainly　ethnic…Chinese　inhabitants；　who　traded　nearly　everything　to　nearly　everywhere；　and　the　restoration　of　American　diplomatic　recognition　had　increased　both　their　mercial　prosperity　and　their　standing　on　the　world　stage。　Try　as　he　might；　wish　as　he　might；　Zhang　could　not　discount　either　of　those　things。
　What　had　gone　wrong？　he　asked　himself　again。　Were　not　his　plays　brilliantly　subtle　ones？　Had　his　country　ever　overtly　threatened　Siberia？　No。　Did　even　the　People's　Liberation　Army's　leadership　know　what　the　plans　were？　Well；　yes；　he　had　to　admit　to　himself；　some　did；　but　only　the　most　trusted　people　in　the　operations　directorate；　and　a　handful　of　senior　field　manders　…　the　ones　who　would　have　to　execute　the　plans　if　the　time　ever　came。　But　such　people　knew　how　to　keep　secrets；　and　if　they　talked　to　anyone。。。　but　they　wouldn't；　because　they　knew　what　happened　to　people　who　spoke　of　things　best　left　unspoken　in　a　society　such　as　theirs；　and　they　knew　that　the　very　air　had　ears　at　their　level　of　〃trust。〃　They　hadn't　even　mented　on　the　draft　plans　to　anyone；　just　made　the　usual　adjustments　in　the　technical　arrangements；　as　senior　officers　always　tended　to　do。　And　so；　perhaps　some　file　clerks　had　the　ability　to　examine　the　plans；　but　that　was　exceedingly　unlikely　as　well。　Security　in　the　PLA　was　excellent。　The　soldiers；　from　private　to　the　lower　general　ranks；　had　no　more　freedom　than　a　machine　bolted　to　the　factory　floor；　and　by　the　time　they　reached　senior　rank　they'd　mainly　forgotten　how　to　think　independently；　except　perhaps　in　some　technical　matters；　like　which　sort　of　bridge　to　build　over　a　particular　river。　No；　to　Zhang　they　might　as　well　have　been　machines；　and　were　just　as　trustworthy。
　Back　to　the　original　question：　Why　had　that　Ryan　fellow　reestablished　relations　with　the　〃Republic　of　China〃？　Had　he　guessed　anything　about　the　Japan　and　Iran　initiatives？　The　incident　with　the　airliner　had　certainly　looked　like　the　accident　it　was　supposed　to　simulate；　and　afterward　the　PRC　had　invited　the　American　navy　to　e　to　the　area　and　〃keep　the　peace；〃　as　they　liked　to　put　it；　as　though　peace　were　something　you　could　place　in　a　metal　box　and　guard。　In　reality　it　was　the　other　way　'round。　War　was　the　animal　you　kept　in　a　cage；　and　then　released　when　the　time　suited。
　Had　this　President　Ryan　guessed　the　PRC's　intentions　to　begin　the　dismemberment　of　the　former　Soviet　Union；　and　then　decided　to　punish　the　People's　Republic　with　his　recognition　of　the　renegades　on　Taiwan？　It　was　possible。　There　were　those　who　found　Ryan　to　be　unusually　perceptive　for　an　American　political　figure。。。　he　was　a　former　intelligence　officer；　after　all；　and　had　probably　been　a　good　one；　Zhang　reminded　himself。　It　was　always　a　serious　mistake　to　underrate　an　adversary；　as　the　Japanese　and　the　Iranians　had　learned　to　their　considerable　sorrow。　This　Ryan　fellow　had　responded　skillfully　to　both　of　Zhang's　plans；　and　yet　he　hadn't　so　much　as　whispered　his　displeasure　to　the　PRC。　There　had　been　no　American　military　exercises　aimed　even　indirectly　at　the　People's　Republic；　no　〃leaks〃　to　the　American　media；　and　nothing　that　his　country's　own　intelligence　officers　operating　out　of　the　embassy　in　Washington　had　discovered。　And　so；　he　was　again　back　to　the　original　question：　Why　had　Ryan　taken　that　action？　He　just　didn't　know。　Not　knowing　was　a　great　annoyance　to　a　man　at　his　level　of　government。　Soon　his　Premier　might　ask　a　question　for　which　he　needed　to　have　the　answer。　But　for　now　the　leader　of　his　government　was　flipping　papers　on　his　desk；　ostensibly　to　tell　him；　Zhang；　that　he；　the　Premier；　was　displeased；　but　not　at　this　moment　doing　anything　about　his　emotions。
　
　
　Ten　meters　away　through　a　solid…core　wood　door；　Lian　Ming　had　her　own　emotions。　The　secretarial　chair　she　sat　in　was　an　expensive　one；　purchased　from　Japan；　the　price　of　it　equal　to　the　wages　of　a　skilled　worker　for；　what？　Four　months？　Five？　Certainly　more　than　the　price　of　the　new　bicycle　she　could　have　used。
　A　university　graduate　in　modern　languages；　she　spoke　English　and　French　well　enough　to　make　herself　understood　in　any　city　in　the　world；　and　as　a　result　she　found　herself　going　over　all　manner　of　diplomatic　and　intelligence　documents　for　her　boss；　whose　language　skills　were　considerably　less　than　her　own。　The　fortable　chair　represented　her　boss's　solicitude　for　the　way　in　which　she　organized　his　work　and　his　day。　And　a　little　more。
　
　
　
　
　　CHAPTER　2
　　The　Dead　Goddess
　　
　This　was　where　it　had　all　happened；　Chester　Nomuri　told　himself。　The　vast　expanse　of　Tiananmen　Square；　the　〃Square　of　Heavenly　Peace；〃　with　the　massive　walls　to　his　right；　was　like。。。　what？　On　reflection　he　realized　that　he　had　nothing　with　which　to　pare　it。　If　there　were　another　place　in　all　the　world　like　this　place；　he　had　neither　visited　nor　even　heard　of　it。
　And　yet　the　very　paving　stones　seemed　to　drip　with　blood。　It　was　almost　as　if　he　could　smell　it　here；　though　that　was　more　than　ten　years　in　the　past；　the　massed　students；　not　much　younger　than　he　had　been　at　the　time　in　California；　rallying　here　to　protest　their　government。　They　hadn't　protested　the　form　of　their　country's　government　so　much　as　the　corruption　of　those　at　its　highest　levels；　and；　predictably；　such　actions　had　been　hugely　offensive　to　the　corrupted。　Well；　that's　how　it　usually　went。　Only　with　discretion　did　one　point　out　the　nature　of　a　powerful　man　to　himself；　Eastern　or　Western；　but　this　was　the　most　dangerous　place　of　all；　because　of　its　long　history　of　gross　brutality。　Here　there　was　an　expectation　of　it。。。
　。。。but　the　first　time　it　had　been　tried　right　here；　the　soldiers　ordered　to　clear　things　up　had　balked。　And　that　must　have　frightened　the　leadership　in　their　plush　and　fortable　offices；　because　when　the　organs　of　the　state　refused　to　do　the　bidding　of　the　state；　that　was　when　something　called　〃Revolution〃　started　（and　in　a　place　where　there　had　already　been　a　Revolution；　enshrined　on　this　very　spot）。　And　so；　the　initial　troop　formations　had　been　pulled　back　and　replaced　with　others；　drawn　from　farther　away；　young　soldiers　（all　soldiers　were　young；　Nomuri　reminded　himself）。　They　had　not　yet　been　contaminated　by　the　words　and　thoughts　of　their　contemporaries　demonstrating　in　the　Square；　not　yet　sympathetic　with　them；　not　yet　willing　to　ask　themselves　why　the　government　which　gave　them　their　weapons　and　uniforms　wished　for　them　to　hurt　these　people　instead　of　listening　to　what　they　had　to　say。。。　and　so；　they'd　acted　like　the　mindless　automatons　they'd　been　trained　to　be。
　There；　just　a　few　yards　away；　were　some　soldiers　of　the　People's　Liberation　Army　on　parade；　wearing　the　strange　wax…doll　look　they　tended　to　have；　looking　not　quite　human　in　their　green　wool　uniforms；　almost　as　though　they　used　makeup；　Chet　thought；　wanting　to　look　more　closely　at　their　faces　to　see　if　maybe　they　really　did。　He　turned　away　with　a　shake　of　his　head。　He　hadn't　flown　JAL　to　China　for　that。　Wangling　this　assignment　for　Nippon　Electric　pany　had　been　difficult　enough。　It　was　a　major　drag　working　two　jobs；　as　an　upper…middle　account　executive　for　NEC　and　a　field　intelligence　officer　for　CIA。　To　succeed　in　the　second；　he　had　also　to　succeed　in　the　first；　and　to　succeed　in　the　first　he　had　to　simulate　a　true　Japanese　salaryman；　one　who　subordinated　everything　short　of　his　breathing　to　the　good　of　the　pany。　Well；　at　least　he　got　to　keep　both　of　his　salaries；　and　the　Japanese　one　wasn't　all　that　bad；　was　it？　Not　at　the　current　exchange　rate；　anyway。
　Nomuri　supposed　that　this　whole　deal　was　a　great　sign　of　confidence　in　his　abilities　…　he'd　established　a　modestly　productive　network　of　agents　in　Japan　who　would　now　report　to　other　CIA　case　officers　…　and　also　of　desperation。　The　Agency　had　been　singularly　unsuccessful　in　getting　a　spy　network　operating　over　here　in　the　PRC。　Langley　hadn't　recruited　many　Chinese　Americans　into　the　fold。。。　and　one　of　those　it　had　gotten　was　now　in　Federal　prison　after　having　developed　a　serious　case　of　divided　loyalties。　It　was　a　fact　that　certain　federal　agencies　were　allowed　to　be　racist；　and　today　Chinese　ethnicity　was　strongly　suspect　at　CIA　headquarters。　Well；　there　wasn't　anything　he　could　do　about　that　…　nor　could　he　pretend　to　be　Chinese　himself；　Nomuri　knew。　To　some　half…blind　racist　European　types；　everyone　with　crooked　eyes　looked　the　same；　but　here　in　Beijing；　Nomuri；　whose　ancestry　was　a　hundred　percent　Japanese　（albeit　entirely　of　the　southern　California　variety）；　figured　he　stood　out　about　as　much　as　Michael　Jordan　would。　It　wasn't　something　to　make　an　intelligence　officer　without　diplomatic　cover　feel　fortable；　especially　since　the　Chinese　Ministry　of　State　Security　was　as　active　and　well…supported　as　it　was。　MSS　was　every　bit　as　powerful　in　this　city　as　the　Soviet　KGB　had　ever　been　in　Moscow；　and　was　probably　just　as　ruthless。　China；　Nomuri　reminded　himself；　had　been　in　the　business　of　torturing　criminals　and　other　unloved　ones　for　thousands　of　years。。。　and　his　ethnicity　would　not　be　overly　helpful。　The　Chinese　did　business　with　the　Japanese　because　it　was　convenient　…　necessary　was　a　more　accurate　term　…　but　there　was　precisely　zero　love　lost　between　the　countries。　Japan　had　killed　far　more　Chinese　in　World　War　II　than　Hitler　had　killed　Jews；　a　fact　little　appreciated　anywhere　in　the　world；　exc