PART 3
SIXTY-TWO
Supreme Harmony observed a conference room in the building called Huairentang—“The Palace Steeped in Compassion.” This was the highest seat of power in the People’s Republic, the equivalent of America’s White House or Russia’s Kremlin. Located in a walled compound just west of Beijing’s Forbidden City, Huairentang was the home of the Politburo Standing Committee, the nine elderly men who’d risen to the top of the Communist Party hierarchy. They sat at a long mahogany table covered with porcelain tea sets. Also attending the meeting was Module 73—formerly Deng Guoming, the minister of State Security—who sat at the foot of the table. He wasn’t a member of the Standing Committee, but he’d been invited to this emergency meeting to discuss the collapse of the Three Gorges Dam.
It was late, well past midnight, more than sixteen hours after the dam gave way. The committee members, usually so crisp and confident in their identical black suits, seemed tense and haggard. Supreme Harmony ordered Module 73 to adopt the same attitude, which was enhanced by the thick bandages wrapped around his head. The Module had told the Standing Committee that he’d had a minor accident while coordinating his ministry’s investigation at the site of the ruptured dam. In reality, the Module had never left Beijing and wore the bandages to conceal the fresh stitches in his shaved scalp. But his fabricated story had evidently impressed the committee members, who kept glancing at his head.
The network directed Module 73 to focus on the general secretary, the most powerful man in the room, who sat at the head of the table. Seventy years old, he had a square, serious face and a full head of thick hair, dyed black. By all accounts, he was a competent statesman with above-average intelligence and a cautious nature, but his term as China’s paramount leader was nearing its end. He was in the process of handing over his leadership positions to the vice president, a sixty-year-old man who wasn’t as intelligent or careful. Because the government was in transition, several other committee members had already switched their allegiances to the vice president, but Supreme Harmony didn’t know the details of the shifting alliances. The inner workings of the Standing Committee weren’t described in any document stored on the government’s servers, so the network had to rely instead on its observations of the committee members and its general knowledge of human behavior. Fortunately, this knowledge had increased exponentially over the past few days.
The meeting started with a report from Zhu Qiang, the committee member who oversaw all of China’s law-enforcement agencies. Because Zhu was Module 73’s superior in the hierarchy, Supreme Harmony paid special attention to the man. In a somber voice he told the committee about the devastation in the Yangtze floodplain, lowering his head as he delivered the bleak reports from the cities of Yichang, Wuhan, and Nanjing.
“And we just received the first bulletins from Shanghai,” Zhu intoned. “Our security forces had time to organize an evacuation before the floodwaters hit the city, but the highways couldn’t handle so much traffic. Many citizens were still on the low-lying roads when the flood struck. Despite the valiant efforts of our Shanghai officials, the number of deaths in that city will also be significant.”
The general secretary shifted in his chair. Supreme Harmony recorded his expression of discomfort. At the moment, the chances of incorporating him into the network were low—the paramount leader was constantly surrounded by aides and bodyguards—but it might become possible at some point.
“What do you mean by ‘significant’?” the general secretary asked. “Do you have any specific estimates for Shanghai?”
Zhu shook his head. “I’m very sorry. Our men have been so busy, they haven’t had time to prepare casualty estimates. But I believe we must brace ourselves for the worst. In Shanghai alone, the flood may have killed as many as a million people.”
Several of the committee members let out murmurs of distress. The vice president, a portly man with fleshy jowls, leaned forward and banged his fist on the table, making the porcelain teacups rattle. He’d spent most of his career in the People’s Liberation Army, and his manners were more boisterous than those of his comrades. “How could this happen?” he shouted. “How could we allow this tragedy to occur?”
Supreme Harmony was surprised. It was unusual for a Chinese leader to make such an outburst in this setting. What’s more, the vice president’s question was a direct affront to the general secretary, who’d been involved in the planning of the Three Gorges Dam earlier in his career. The network expected the other committee members to show their disapproval of this rash remark, but, instead, several of them nodded in agreement. The shock of the catastrophe had obviously altered their behavior.
After several seconds, Zhu Qiang found the courage to speak again. “We’re trying to answer that question, Mr. Vice President. And though we’re still in the earliest stages of our investigation, our agents have already found some crucial evidence. That’s why I invited the minister of State Security to this meeting. I wanted you to hear about this evidence firsthand from Minister Deng, who has just returned from the site of the dam breach. As you can see, he’s put his own safety at risk to pursue the investigation.” Zhu turned to Module 73. “Minister, would you please address the committee?”
Supreme Harmony put an appropriately sober expression on the Module’s face. The network had a challenging task to perform, but it was confident of success.
“Thank you for inviting me,” the Module started. “As most of you know, I’m a man who doesn’t mince words. Once I’m certain that something is true, I’m not afraid to say it. And now I’m certain about what caused the collapse of the Three Gorges Dam. Once you see the evidence, I’m sure you’ll come to the same conclusion.” The Module paused for dramatic effect. This was something Minister Deng often did, and Supreme Harmony was trying to reproduce his behavior as closely as possible. “The Three Gorges Dam was sabotaged. A group of terrorists infiltrated the dam’s security forces and planted explosives at critical points in the structure.”
The conference room fell silent. No one on the Standing Committee said a word. But Supreme Harmony observed the signs of alarm and confusion. The general secretary furrowed his brow. The vice president gritted his teeth, making his jaw muscles quiver.
Module 73 reached into his briefcase and pulled out a stack of nine computer disks, each held in a transparent jewel case. He rested the stack on the mahogany table and held up one of the disks for everyone to see. “This contains the video taken by the Guoanbu’s surveillance cameras near the dam. The video shows a Yangtze River cruise boat, the
The committee members remained silent, but Supreme Harmony sensed their agitation. The vice president’s eyes darted from left to right, most likely surveying the reactions of his allies. Module 73 distributed the computer disks, passing them around the table. “This video alone is convincing evidence of sabotage,” he continued. “But my agents have collected much more. The Guoanbu’s listening posts have intercepted communications, both inside China and overseas, from individuals who had advance knowledge of the terrorist plot. And we’ve detained several officers in the dam’s security force who aided the terrorists. That’s why I flew to the disaster site this afternoon, to personally supervise the interrogation of these traitors. The videos of their confessions are included on the disks I’ve given you.”
Each member of the Standing Committee now held one of the jewel cases. The general secretary stared intently at the disk inside, as if he was trying to read its contents from the glints of light on its surface. The vice president, in contrast, slammed his jewel case on the table and glared at Module 73. “So who are they?” he demanded. “Who did this to us?”
The Module returned his stare. Incorporating the vice president into the network would be nearly as difficult
