Matthew Reilly: The Great Zoo of China

As she and her party waited at the top of the amphitheatre, they were each handed a small gift pack branded with the Great Dragon Zoo of China logo.

‘Cool! Free stuff!’ Hamish exclaimed.

‘In boys’ and girls’ colours,’ CJ said drily. Her pack was pink while Hamish’s was black. And they were—

‘Oh my God, fanny packs,’ Aaron Perry said. ‘Hello, 1982.’

CJ smiled. They were indeed fanny packs; the kind you wore clipped around your waist and which screamed ‘tourist’.

And, CJ had to admit, Perry was right. They were a bit naff. That was the funny thing about China: it desperately tried to mimic the West but it often seemed to get it wrong in small, clumsy ways.

Hamish—the hotel shampoo thief—burrowed into his fanny pack enthusiastically. ‘Okay… Audemars Piguet watch with Great Dragon Zoo logo: nice. Weird sunglasses with Great Dragon Zoo logo: okay. Thirty-two-megapixel Samsung digital camera with Great Dragon Zoo logo: very nice for the eager amateur. Oh, hey!’

He extracted a Zippo lighter from his pouch, plus two Cuban cigars, all branded with the circular golden logo.

‘Now that’s sweet!’ He grinned at CJ. ‘Check yours out.’

CJ looked in her pink pouch. It contained a dainty white Chanel watch with a Great Dragon Zoo logo, plus some odd-looking sunglasses and a digital camera.

‘No cigars in the ladies’ pack, it seems. But wait…’ She pulled out a hairbrush, some cosmetics including moisturiser, cleanser and even a small travel-sized can of hairspray, all bearing the Great Dragon Zoo of China logo.

‘Nice to know what China expects of a woman,’ she said flatly. ‘They forgot to include a Great Dragon Zoo apron.’

Na came over. ‘Please, put on your watches. Audemars Piguet for the gentlemen. Chanel for the ladies. They are very expensive.’

CJ could see that. She could also see that despite the packs’ oddities—who gave out cigars anymore?—Na was clearly very proud of them. Despite herself, CJ put on the watch and the fanny pack.

She felt a tug at her jacket and looked down.

A Chinese girl of perhaps eight was looking up at her and smiling.

‘Hello, miss! Are you American? May I practise my English with you?’

CJ smiled. The kid was cute as a button. She held a teddy bear close to her chest and wore an adorable Minnie Mouse cap, complete with mouse ears.

‘Certainly,’ CJ said. ‘What’s your name?’

‘My name is Min, but Mama calls me Minnie. What is your name?’

‘I’m Cassandra, but my mom calls me CJ.’

Minnie, it appeared, had been at the head of another group of visitors leaving the amphitheatre. They emerged from it now behind her.

This group comprised four Chinese men, all in their fifties and all dressed in outdoorsmen gear: cargo pants, khaki vests, hiking boots, slouch hats. They emerged from the amphitheatre chatting excitedly, oohing and aahing. All four wore their black fanny packs clipped to their waists.

One of the men said to CJ in English: ‘I hope my granddaughter is not bothering you, miss.’

‘Not at all,’ CJ said, smiling. ‘She wanted to try out her English and it’s excellent.’

Behind the men came three Chinese women in their mid- to late forties. All three wore expensive designer clothing—Dior, Gucci, Louis Vuitton—with matching handbags and sparkling jewellery. Their hair was perfect, their shoes high.

The group was escorted by a female tour guide—a clone of Na—and by a very pleased-looking grey-haired, grey-moustached Chinese fellow wearing a red Great Dragon Zoo of China blazer just like Zhang’s.

Once again, CJ zeroed in on the details: all of the men’s outdoorsy clothes were brand new, right down to their hiking boots.

More than that, these guys looked like men not accustomed to ever wearing rugged clothing. They were all pot-bellied, well fed, which in China meant they were probably Party officials. And judging by their age, CJ thought, senior ones.

She also noted that there were four men and four female companions: the three women and the girl. She guessed that each Party man had brought one guest along: a wife or, in the case of Minnie, a granddaughter.

Her group, CJ realised suddenly, were not the only VIPs being shown around the zoo today. And perhaps hers was not the most important one either.

The grey-moustached man in the Great Dragon Zoo blazer stopped at the sight of Hu Tang and smiled broadly. He spoke in Mandarin so CJ silently translated in her head.

‘Comrade Hu! How delightful to see you!’ he said. ‘What a glorious day to show off our wonderful zoo!’

Hu nodded. ‘Director Chow. How is your tour going?’

‘Marvellously,’ the man named Chow said. ‘Just marvellously.’

Hu Tang turned to his American guests and switched to English. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is the director of our zoo, Mr Chow Wei. Director Chow, these are some very influential members of the Western media so please do not say anything impolitic! Messrs Wolfe and Perry from The New York Times , and CJ and Hamish Cameron representing National Geographic .’

Director Chow bowed. ‘Welcome to our zoo,’ he said in English. ‘As I am sure you will have realised by now, there is nothing in the world like it. Enjoy. I believe I will be seeing you all later this evening for a banquet. Please excuse me, I must attend to my guests.’

He guided his party away.

‘Goodbye, CJ,’ Minnie said as she was led away. ‘It was very nice to meet you.’

‘It was very nice to meet you, too, Minnie,’ CJ said.

Standing beside CJ, Wolfe watched the other group go. ‘Do you know who those men were?’ he said softly.

‘Communist Party bigwigs?’ CJ said.

‘Communist Party super bigwigs. Two Politburo members, one state governor and one casino billionaire from Macau. Plus their companions.’

‘Why were the men wearing brand-new hiking outfits?’ CJ asked.

Wolfe shrugged. ‘Must be doing a different tour from us.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen.’ Hu Tang ushered them down into the amphitheatre. ‘This way, please.’

CJ and the others settled into the front row of the amphitheatre while Hu Tang and Deputy Director Zhang ascended the stage and stood behind a lectern.

It was a curious sensation, CJ thought, to be sitting in a stadium that was built so high up. They were four hundred feet above the ground, up near the rim of the crater.

Xin Xili and her CCTV cameraman continued filming them from the side.

Hu Tang stood on the stage, framed by the glorious megavalley. With its high central mountain, moss-covered buttes, castles and dragons, it looked fantastical, otherworldly.

Hu pressed a button on the lectern and a large plasma screen rose up out of the stage beside him. On it was the question:

WHAT IS A DRAGON?

Oh, great , CJ thought, a PowerPoint lecture .

‘I imagine you have many questions,’ Hu began, ‘which Deputy Director Zhang and I shall endeavour to answer now. For instance, what exactly is a dragon and how did China manage to find and raise them when no other nation on Earth has ever done so before? To help me answer these questions for you, I might call on a friend to help me.’

Hu pressed a button on his lectern theatrically.

Bang! Flames rushed into the air from vents arrayed around the stage—a pyrotechnic effect often used at rock concerts—and a cloud of smoke engulfed the stage.

With a sudden whoosh , something large rushed low over CJ’s head, making her hair flutter, before landing on the stage right beside Hu.