The Great Wall - The Official Movie Novelization

10

After the meeting with Wang, William and Pero were left to their own devices. Now that they were no longer prisoners, nor even confined to their quarters, William decided to look around before taking up Lin Mae’s invitation to meet her on the Wall. After a few wrong turns, he eventually found his way to the vast gallery where he, Pero and their bear warrior escort had ascended in the cage to the top of the Wall. Here was housed the machinery that powered the Wall’s defenses. In many ways, William thought, this was the beating heart of the Wall itself. He watched for a while as dozens of yellow-armored tiger warriors, overseen by Commander Wu, installed a succession of sharp, wide blades onto giant wooden blade carts. He thought about offering his services, but the men were so well drilled he decided he would probably only end up getting in the way.

After a while General Shao appeared, accompanied by a bevy of lieutenants, to inspect the work. The General nodded to William and William nodded back, but although the acknowledgement was a friendly one, it prompted William to move on. He was interested in the preparations for what would surely be further conflicts ahead, but he didn’t want to outstay his welcome. As Shao and Commander Wu became embroiled in conversation, he decided to make a surreptitious exit.

He rode in the cage to the top of the Wall, emerging into strong sunlight. He raised his face to the sky and closed his eyes for a moment. After the comparative gloom of the fortress it was good to feel the warmth on his face, the slight breeze in his hair. Ahead of him, blue-armored crane warriors, Lin Mae among them, were training, the tall wooden cranes from which they launched their sky rigs spread out in a line along the battlements. He watched them, attached to a complex arrangement of hooks and ropes, swoop and dive and fly around the cranes, constantly adjusting ropes and hooks to give themselves more mobility. He watched them practicing with their long lances, spinning them, thrusting them into the bodies of imaginary enemies, pressing their flexible tips against hard surfaces to give themselves more impetus, more spring.

It was a dazzling sight, like watching a flock of gleaming blue birds performing an air ballet. Eventually Lin Mae spotted him and beckoned him over. “Come.”

He clambered up on to a sky rig, where Lin Mae was surrounded by a group of crane warriors, who regarded him curiously. Beside the pulley mechanism of the rig stood a pair of impassive bear warriors. Lin Mae had a harness in her hand, all hooks and ropes, which she held out to him.

“You want to try?”

One of the crane warriors muttered something, which made the others laugh.

“What did she say?” William asked.

Lin Mae was smiling. “She said men have so much to teach us.”

The girls were still tittering, and flashing William mocking looks.

“I don’t think that’s what she said.”

Lin Mae leaned in closer and stared into his eyes. “You know what I think?” she said softly. “I think you’re afraid.”

William smiled. Equally softly he replied, “You said that this morning. And yet here I am.”

Lin Mae offered him the harness again. The hooks on it clanked together. “Yes. Here you are.”

Ballard was playing the role of tour guide, showing Pero around. He was giving him a closer look at the inner Wall workings, pointing out massive wheel gears, levers and pulleys, explaining what they were for, how they worked.

The area was quiet now after the earlier activity, the huge blade carts equipped and ready for action, standing in silent rows. Most of the Tiger Corps soldiers had departed. Those who had been left on guard nodded to Ballard as he passed them, evidently relaxed in his company.

“You’d have to run sixty miles west before you could consider yourself free,” he said suddenly, as though continuing an earlier conversation. “That’s how far they would chase you before they quit.”

Pero looked at him in horror and slid a glance towards the nearest Tiger Corps guard, who was surely within earshot. Ballard laughed.

“Oh, don’t worry about them. Not a single one of them speaks English.” He looked around, grinned, raised his voice. “Not a wee wanking one of you, eh?”

A few of the soldiers smiled politely. They were clearly used to his eccentric foreign ways.

William looked down and immediately wished he hadn’t. Perched on the end of one of the crane rig platforms jutting out over the battlements, with a warm breeze ruffling his hair, the ground seemed impossibly distant. His stomach flipped and his heart felt as if it was ballooning up into the back of his throat. He tried not to show his fear, but looking at Lin Mae’s face, he realized he was fooling no one with his nonchalance. She knew perfectly well that he was nervous. She was even taking pleasure in it.

“Well?” she said, looking him in the eye as he stood there. “Will you jump or not?”

William glanced at the hulking bear soldiers who were standing beside the pulley mechanism, glowering at him. If he did jump his life would be in their hands.

“Those guys do know what they’re doing?” he murmured.

She smiled a superior smile. “Wrong question.”

She waited, looking at him, as if willing to give him another go. William, though, grimaced in apology.

She sighed. “Whether or not the cable is attached? That is the question.”

“And the answer?” he asked.

“Xin ren. Say it.”

Automatically he repeated what she had said, struggling with the pronunciation. “Xin ren.”

“It means to have trust,” Lin Mae said, holding his gaze with hers. “To have faith.” She gestured at the semi-circle of silent, watchful crane warriors standing behind them. “Here? This army? Our flag? We fight for more than food or money. We give our lives to something more. Xin ren is our flag. Trust in each other. In all ways. At all times.”

She turned back to him. William stared into her eyes, held her gaze for a long moment. Then he looked once more at the ground far, far below.

Eventually, turning back to her, he said, “Well, that’s all well and good. But I’m not jumping. I’m alive today because I trust no one.”

Lin Mae regarded him with something like pity. “A man must learn to trust before he can be trusted,” she said.

“Then you were right,” replied William. “We’re not the same.”