The Secret Cardinal

45

During the second night, the BATs crossed from Inner Mongolia into the harsh and barren Gansu Province, a region traditionally considered by the Chinese as the outer limit of the Middle Kingdom. A thin sliver of a moon hung high above, casting an eerie light on the mountainous terrain. Early in tonight’s flight, they passed over a remote section of the Great Wall, the famous barrier against invasion from the north.

‘It is a shame we are not following the ancient route through the Hexi Corridor,’ Yin mused as he gazed at the landscape below. ‘I recall it was most impressive.’

‘Sightseeing is not on the agenda,’ Kilkenny said curtly.

Tao scowled at Kilkenny and placed a gloved hand on Yin’s. ‘I’ve traveled quite a bit in Gansu, and it was spectacular.’

Tao’s instinct told her Yin was feeling homesick for a land he hadn’t seen in three decades. And once out of China, he could never return. As he passed into the west, everything Yin had ever known was slipping away. Yin nodded, and Tao glimpsed a hint of his warm smile through his dark visor. The quiet Bishop returned his gaze to the windswept land below.

‘If our circumstances were different,’ Tao said, ‘what would you recommend we see?’

‘The land below us has much history and much beauty. The Buddhist caves at Dunhuang and Bingling Si contain magnificent works of art. Maiji Shan near Tianshui is also quite spectacular. If we were on foot — ’

‘God forbid,’ Kilkenny interrupted.

‘ — then we would have little choice but to follow the Hexi Corridor,’ Yin continued. ‘It was the only route west. From the south, the corridor follows the edge of the Qilian Shan Mountains — the foothills of Tibet. Only desert and mountains are to the north. Chinese civilization originated in Gansu, and control of the corridor was very important. All trade passed through here, and the Great Wall protected much of the corridor. It was a critical piece of the Silk Road. Many saw the importance of this region, and control over it changed hands many times. The descendants of all those conquests are still here.’

‘Sounds like Ireland,’ Kilkenny offered.

‘Among those who came were Tibetans. Monks settled in a beautiful valley south of Langzhou and founded the monastery of Labrang Si at Xiahe. It is the most important monastery outside of Tibet and one of the centers of the Yellow Hat Sect. I found refuge with the monks at Labrang Si. It was very good for the spirit in difficult times.’

As Yin spoke, he stared into the distance as if his memories lay there. Absently, he moved his right hand to his chest. Tao noticed immediately.

‘Is your heart bothering you again?’ Tao asked.

Kilkenny turned in his seat. Despite Jing’s initial diagnosis of stress, Kilkenny knew a combat medic was no substitute for a cardiologist.

‘My heart is troubled,’ Yin replied, his voice a choked whisper.

‘Do you want to have the medic look at you again?’ Kilkenny asked.

‘No. You said we must keep moving.’

‘But you are the reason we’re here,’ Kilkenny countered. ‘Do you need a doctor?’

‘I am fine,’ Yin lied. But behind his helmet, unseen by Kilkenny and Tao, tears streamed down his face.

Second Lieutenant Sun Tonglai of the People’s Liberation Army Air Force paced along the side of the unpaved stretch of road south of Dunhuang trying to keep warm, a futile effort against the mass of cold air flowing down like an icy river from the mountains. He lit another cigarette and thrust his gloved hands back into the pockets of his long blue coat. He drew in each breath deeply and held the warm smoke inside his lungs, the cigarette tip a glowing ember. After a pleasant leave home, Sun did not relish the idea of freezing to death on a desolate road in the middle of nowhere.

Sun was stationed at Base 20 outside Jiuquan, and the small bus that was taking him back sat by the side of the road with a flat tire. The driver, with the help of a few passengers, had removed the damaged tire and was mounting the spare. With any luck, they would soon reload all the baggage and once again be on the road.

‘What is that sound?’ one of Sun’s fellow passengers asked.

At first, Sun heard nothing. Then a sharp note rose above the rushing wind, almost a whistle but constant and growing in intensity.

‘Is that a plane?’ another asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Sun replied. ‘It sounds too small, and too low to the ground. Perhaps it is just an echo coming through the mountains.’

Because he was an Air Force officer, most passengers accepted Sun’s explanation of the phenomenon, but the sound continued to puzzle him. He scanned the heavens, looking for running lights that would reveal a passing aircraft’s position, but he saw only stars and a sickle moon.

Something black crossed the bright band of the Milky Way, large enough to blot out handfuls of stars. It was followed by a second shape, then a third — three distinct black forms with scalloped wings.

‘Too big for birds,’ one passenger said.

‘They are making the noise,’ another offered.

‘You’re military,’ a fellow passenger demanded. ‘What is it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sun admitted before catching himself. ‘Listen, people, do not tell anyone what you have seen. If it is military and they are flying at night, you are not supposed to see it. Just forget about it.’