The Emperor's Tomb

FIFTY-THREE

MALONE WAS AMAZED BY PIT 3. IT WAS THE SMALLEST OF THE three excavated sites, and a placard noted in English that this was the underground army’s command center, complete with high-ranking officers, an imperial guard, and a chariot. Visitors filled a catwalk that encircled the excavations fifteen feet below. Weak sodium-vapor lights cast the surreal scene in a harsh, yellowish green glow. The air was moist and humid, the rain tapping on the ceiling high overhead in a constant drumbeat. A rich, earthy scent filled his nostrils. The lack of climate control was surprising considering that, surely, the whole idea of enclosing the pit would have been to keep moisture at bay.

Pau led them to the railing as a tour group moved farther along the walk. “This pit is unique in size and composition.”

Malone assessed the layout. Many of the terra-cotta figures stood without their heads. On the paved floor below, shattered pieces of other figures lay in piles, like a puzzle poured from its box.

“Only 68 warriors were found here,” Pau said. “Many thousands fill the other two pits. Here we found the underground army’s imperial guards, its generals, the elite.”

Malone studied the chariot, which sat at the center of the pit, at the base of a partially excavated ramp that led up to ground level.

“I was here in 1979 when this pit was first located,” Pau said, “but it was not fully explored until the mid-1980s, at about the time I left China. So I have only seen photographs. Notice anything?”

Eight soldiers stood to the left of the center chariot, none to the right. All of the remaining soldiers filled two recesses on either side of the U-shaped pit.

“Why is there nobody on the right side of the chariot?” Malone asked.

“There’s something else,” Pau said.

“The chariot is cockeyed to the ramp,” Cassiopeia said.

Malone saw that she was correct, making it impossible for the wheels to exit the pit without colliding with the ramp’s wall. To negotiate the exit, the chariot would have to veer left.

“I noticed that from the images,” Pau said. “For a people who were so careful with every aspect of design, that error could not have been unintentional.”

“So the hole in the earthen wall, to the left of the chariot, is important?” Malone asked.

Pau nodded. “The designers sent a message that something important was located to the left. A few days ago, that chamber you see was rediscovered.”

“Looks like a mess,” Viktor said.

Malone, too, noticed the cables, shovels, rakes, and piles of dirt on either side of the opening, and what appeared to be a charred electrical box. “More like a fire.”

“Accidents do happen,” Pau said.

But Malone was not fooled.

“You knew the moment that chamber was found, didn’t you?”

“More important, Karl Tang knew. He was here, and he set the fire. He intentionally destroyed Qin Shi’s imperial library.”

Malone wanted to inquire further, but now was not the time. “This place closes in forty-five minutes.”

“We must enter that opening,” Pau said.

Malone again studied the layout. Two additional ramps led down to the pit’s floor. Both were blocked with chains that could easily be hopped. At least four closed-circuit cameras were visible, though there were probably more, the ones in sight sending a message that people were watching, the ones out of sight providing the best views. He counted six uniformed guards patrolling the catwalk and God knew how many plainclothes men scattered about. The crowd was quiet and orderly.

“We need a distraction,” he whispered.

Cassiopeia nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Be cautious,” Pau said. “The security personnel here will react to anything rash.”

“And if we’re caught?” Viktor asked.

“Then we shall be arrested, and we can see if you are truly a friend or foe.”

Malone liked that prospect regarding Viktor, though being detained in China sounded like a bad idea, especially given that they were here illegally and at least two of them were armed.

“I’ll take care of the distraction,” Viktor said.

“I thought you might,” Malone said.

“I have a feeling you three don’t want me along anyway.”

No, Malone thought, he didn’t.

“I’ll be outside when you’re through with whatever you plan on doing. I’ll make some noise, but not enough to get arrested.”

Viktor shuffled off, dissolving into the crowd, working his way to the other side of the catwalk.

“We need to avoid the ramps,” Malone said. “Too obvious. Let’s use that ladder.” He gave a slight motion of his head to where a short length of chain blocked metal rungs. “Get down quickly and into that hole in the ground before the cameras regroup.”

Pau and Cassiopeia nodded their assent.

Malone carried the two flashlights inside a pack slung over one shoulder, colored in the army’s distinctive green with a red star. His gun remained nestled beneath his wet shirt.

A shout rose in the hall.

Malone saw Viktor flailing one arm in the air, and spewing out loud Chinese. It appeared he’d taken offense to something one of the visitors had either said or done.

Viktor shoved a man.

More words.

The crowd’s attention zeroed in on the disturbance, as did security. All six uniforms rushed toward the rapidly escalating situation.

Malone waited for the cameras to angle toward the excitement, then whispered, “Go.”

Cassiopeia hopped the short length of chain and climbed down.

Pau Wen followed.

Malone kept watch. No one seemed to pay them any attention. As Pau found the ground, he slid down the ladder behind him. Together they hugged the earthen wall and avoided the half-restored terra-cotta figures lining the way.

Cassiopeia entered the portal.

Before Pau disappeared inside, the older man grabbed one of the shovels. Apparently tools were needed, so Malone grabbed another and entered the dark space.

TANG WATCHED VIKTOR TOMAS ON ONE MONITOR AND PAU Wen and his two companions on the other. He’d inspected the library chamber thoroughly, prior to ordering its torching, and discovered that nothing of interest, besides the manuscripts, lay inside. Pau knew the manuscripts were gone, burned away—they’d discussed it on the phone—yet the first thing Pau had done on reentering China was head straight there.

Why?

“Order the building evacuated,” he said. “Station a man at all exits and several on the catwalks. Keep this camera focused on that opening. If anyone emerges, have them immediately arrested. If they become a problem, shoot them.”

He tightened his grip on the pistol.

“I’m headed there now. I want that building empty by the time I arrive, except for the foreigner who started the disturbance. Keep him inside.”

MALONE SURVEYED THE TIGHT SPACE, MAYBE TEN FEET SQUARE, the floor and walls rough bricks, the ceiling stout timbers, one section long ago collapsed.

“I first came in through the break in the top,” Pau said.

Three pedestal-like tables fashioned from stone stood empty, the floor littered with ash, the air thick with the smell of soot.

Something had definitely burned here.

“These tables were once covered with bamboo strips and silks, all with writings from the time of Qin Shi. His imperial library. Karl Tang ordered it destroyed two days ago.”

“Why would he do such a thing?” Cassiopeia asked. “How could they be a threat to him?”

“Anything he cannot control is a threat to him.”

Malone heard the din of noise from outside begin to recede. He stepped to the exit and peered upward. “People are leaving.”

“I imagine Tang ordered that. Which means we have little time.”

“For what?” he asked.

“To leave.”