The Great Wall - The Official Movie Novelization

9

After breakfast William and Pero were summoned to the Hall of Knowledge, Ballard appearing at the door of their barracks to escort them. He led them through a complex maze of corridors that made William hope he would never have to negotiate the internal geography of the fortress on his own.

Eventually they arrived at a pair of ornate double doors that opened into a vast room filled with exotic and complicated devices. Ballard pointed out a few items as they stepped inside, but the words he used to describe them—“astroscope”, “seismograph”—left the two men none the wiser.

As they entered the room, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floor, Strategist Wang hurried forward to meet them. Behind Wang, in the far left corner, another man sat behind a desk—a younger man in green robes, whose black hair was knotted tightly on top of his head, and whose long, sulky face was turned mistrustfully in their direction.

Wang, however, was uncharacteristically effusive. Greeting William and Pero warmly, he introduced the sulky-faced man as Shen, and told them he had requested their presence here this morning in order to relate to them the full story of the Tao Tei. As he beckoned them forward, Ballard peeled off, reminding William of a cat that had lost interest in its human companions. The scrawny man wandered among the instruments on their display tables, fingering and prodding them as if in search of something. Ignoring him, Wang led William and Pero across to an open area in the middle of the room where two young men in plain dark clothes stood in silent obedience, as if waiting for instructions.

“About twenty centuries ago,” Wang began, “King Zhou forever stained the reputation of Imperial China. At the height of his corruption and depravity, a comet appeared, spreading its light across the night sky. At its center a single huge stone struck the earth.”

Wang nodded at the two young men, who stepped forward in unison, each taking hold of a cord that hung from the ceiling. They tugged on their cords and a shimmering silk scroll unraveled from above. The scroll was about a yard wide and as long as the room was high. Images were painted on it in delicate Chinese ink, depicting the fallen comet from Wang’s story.

“Its impact was heard for thousands of miles,” Wang continued. “The great valley was created in its wake. The mountains where the comet came to rest began to glow green, releasing the Tao Tei. From that day on, with terrible regularity, the Tao Tei rise with the sixty year moon to scourge the North of China.”

As he proceeded with his story, he nodded at intervals, whereupon his assistants released more silk scrolls from the ceiling. Soon there were a dozen or more, hanging down like tall thin trees in a translucent silk forest. Their appearance was impeccably timed, Wang strolling between the scrolls and referring to each one as he related his tale, the delicate images perfectly illustrating the narrative.

Moving between the hanging scrolls in Wang’s wake, William’s attention was snagged by a suggestion of dark movement in the gap between two of them. He glanced across to see that Ballard, who had doubtless heard this story before, was standing behind a large table which housed a model of the Great Wall and its internal workings. Like a child with a fascinating new toy, Ballard was pulling levers and turning dials, causing miniature flying rigs to open, the nests of the eagle archers to rise from the ground, the tiny trebuchets to fling their great arms forward, just as the real things had done when they had rained balls of fire down on the Tao Tei.

Ballard was grinning, clearly enjoying himself. William felt a thread of disquiet work its way inside him like a burrowing worm. He diverted his gaze from Ballard and back towards Wang and his story.

“The ancient Great Wall built by our ancestors has been reinforced,” Wang was saying. “The Nameless Order guards this Wall year after year. It is the first—and last—defense for China.

“We are now in the Thirty First Cycle. What you see here in this room is but a fraction of the study we have made in secret for over eighteen hundred years. Throughout that time, to avoid creating panic among our people, we have kept the legend of the Tao Tei in the realms of folklore and rumor. Every sixty years, for eight terrible days, this Wall is the only barrier keeping China—and the world—safe.”

His story was done. He looked at them, hands clasped together, as though inviting comment or questions.

Obliging him, William asked, “What do the Tao Tei want?”

Wang spread his hands. “Simply to feed. To grow.”

“We’ve seen them eat,” Pero said darkly.

“Yes,” said Wang, “but there is a limit to the food north of the Wall. We know they scourge every scrap of meat through the Jade Valley. We believe the only reason they retire to their hive is because they have reached a balance between what they have taken and the damage we have rendered.”

He gestured towards one of the scrolls, on which was depicted an image of a vast, bloated beast feeding, its massive mouth open and multiple tubes or cords extending into the open mouths of smaller Tao Tei who were presumably providing it with food from their own bellies.

Sure enough, Wang said, “The Tao Tei have their own Queen. Around her are the Paladins, the officers that protect her. The Tao Tei soldiers are her arms, legs and stomach. The Queen does not stalk her prey, but depends on the soldiers to continually feed her.”

Wang turned from the scroll and looked from William to Pero, his face serious. “If the Tao Tei were to breach the Wall… Bianliang is only eight hundred li away. A city of two million people. The consequences should the Tao Tei find that much nourishment are too dark to consider. What would ever stop them? No corner of the world would be safe.”

He beckoned with a finger and led them beyond the hanging scrolls, to a workbench close to Shen’s desk. On the bench, surrounded by various measuring devices—calipers, weighing scales—and a scattering of sketches on rice paper, sat the severed Tao Tei claw. Even now, perched on its black, hooked talons it looked as though it might scuttle away at any moment. Perhaps Wang thought so too. Perhaps that was why it sat inside a heavy glass bell jar.

Gesturing at the claw, Wang said, “In thirty cycles, no man has ever taken a Tao Tei down alone. To be attacked at night, in the open…” He shook his head in wonder. “You are strong and skillful, and yet it is difficult to believe your story.”

“I have no reason to lie to you,” William said.

Wang produced something from within the simple black robe he was wearing and held it up. It was the magnet.

“Where was this?” he asked. “As you fought, where was this stone?”

William patted the left side of his tunic. “Tucked in my vest. Just here.”

Wang looked thoughtful, then placed the magnet carefully down on the workbench and lifted his hand away. To Ballard’s evident astonishment, the magnet shot across the wooden surface and with a loud clang stuck firmly to an iron rivet bolting the joints together. At his desk, Shen jumped like a startled rabbit.

Wang looked at them calmly. “The unseen force is powerful.”

Ballard ghosted across to the magnet. He touched it, then gave it an experimental tug, but it was stuck fast. “Your point is what, Master?” he asked.

Wang shrugged. “Perhaps nothing.” He indicated Shen. “Master Shen has sent questions to the Emperor’s Council. I seek the history of a strange battle nine hundred years ago on the southwest tower.” All at once he looked weary. “We try everything we can.”

“Where are the Tao Tei now?” William asked.

“They have gone back to the mountain, to regroup for the next attack,” Wang said.

“Can’t you hunt them?”

“Men have tried. They always disappear. We never find their bones.”

Pero looked incredulous. “So sixty years you wait? Sesenta años? What are they doing all this time?”

“I think they change,” said Wang. This was clearly a pet theory of his. “I think they sleep and slowly change. Many people disagree with me, but I have spent my life studying their history, and I believe they are not the same enemy our ancestors faced. How this can be I do not know, but…” He had wandered over to the magnet and was now trying to pry it loose from the iron bolt it had attached itself to. “…I will keep this stone close.”

William didn’t know if the Strategist was asking his permission, but he nodded all the same.

“Good luck,” he said.