Tom Aston - The Machine

Ying Ning explained the first part of the plan as she worked. ‘You will travel to Shanghai, by ship this evening from Hong Kong direct to Shanghai. Takes thirty-six hours. You will be my boyfriend — Jonah Edward Richards, from Chicago.’ That was the name in the passport Carlisle had given him.

Ying Ning stung another injection into Stone’s upper lip, while playfully blowing smoke rings above his head. Yep. Definitely enjoying this.

‘In Shanghai I need to show you something,’ said Ying Ning.

‘Show me what?’

‘I can’t say. But you’ll see why I need your help.’

That was interesting. Ying Ning never asked for help. She was the one with a plan, telling her lapdogs what to do.

‘What about Oyang?’ asked Stone. ‘He’s the only one we can get to who knows about the Machine, and…’

Ying Ning practically snorted. ‘You trust Oyang?’

‘Of course I don’t trust him,’ said Stone. ‘But he’s a senior director of ShinComm, and he was the closest person to Semyonov. We can use him for information. Junko’s file says he trained as a Chinese diplomat. He opened Semyonov’s first business contacts in China and became Semyonov’s righthand man in China with ShinComm.’

‘Oyang’s the worst kind of Chinese,’ Ying Ning spat back. ‘Will do anything for money.’

‘We’ve got to try him,’ said Stone. ‘Oyang was Semyonov’s best friend. And since Semyonov was killed, my bet is he’ll talk.’

Ying Ning was still sitting in Stone’s lap. She looked directly into Stone’s cool grey eyes for a second, her face screwed up and skeptical. ‘Oyang is a “naked official”,’ she said. ‘That means a corrupt Chinese official who has moved his family to another country. He moved his family to Switzerland, so he can escape at any time.’

‘So you think Oyang is a filthy, capitalist running dog,’ said Stone. ‘You say that about everyone with money. Not a reason to ignore him.’

‘We talk about it in Shanghai. Like I said, I have something to show you.’ She tapped her finger lightly on the tip of his nose. The kind of thing a love-struck girl would do, but entirely bogus.

Fascinating. Stone could see Ying Ning loved the danger just as much as he did. That was why, behind all Ying Ning’s bogus flirting, there was a vibe of attraction resonating between them.

When Stone got back to the pleasant surroundings of the Zhonghua Hotel that evening, the game suddenly changed. There was a message on the NotFutile.com anonymized email server.

Meet me tomorrow. ShinComm Tower, fifty-sixth floor.

It was Oyang. Forget Ying Ning’s plan of thirty-six hours on a boat. The next morning Stone went to the airport and paid cash for a flight to Shanghai. He’d catch up with Ying Ning if and when.

Walking away out of the airport terminal, it felt like Hong Kong again — sticky, hazy heat but none of the greenery. In the distance stood the skyscrapers of Shanghai. Seventy or eighty stories in novel but uninspiring shapes. The hot breeze tugged at Stone’s shirt and his unruly hair.

Stone instinctively looked around to see if he was being followed. His calm eyes flicked and scanned, as they had a hundred times before. But just like Hong Kong, with crowds and teeming traffic on all sides, it was impossible. He joined the line for a cab. If someone followed him in a car it would be easier to spot.

‘ Zhongxin ,’ he said to the driver. The centre. Deliberately vague. It would take a while in this traffic and the driver was happy enough. Stone looked from the window at the shops and the signage — some neon and glitzy, some shabby and hand-painted. The Chinese characters were communist simplified versions, easier to understand than in Hong Kong. 24 Hour Printing/Copying. Ten Thousand Miles of Cloud — Hunan Restaurant. Learn English — Guaranteed Good Job. Learn Computers — Guaranteed Good Job. 1 Minute Pregnancy test, 1 Hour Abortion, Ultrasound for Sex of Baby.

Stone used the time to look again through Junko Terashima’s notes about Oyang.

It seemed Robert Oyang had contacted Terashima, the day after her ill-starred attempt to confront Semyonov at the press conference back in San Jose. She’d obviously made an impression, and Oyang had sent her the photo of “the Machine”, the photo Ying Ning had showed him that looked like a patch of bare desert. The photo that had made Junko come over to Hong Kong.

It was after that “ShinComm people” lured Junko to her death in the Snake Market. Oyang could have been complicit in that. On the other hand, the bad guys who’d done away with Semyonov could have done it to keep Terashima from talking to Oyang. Stone needed to get a handle on the kind of guy Oyang was. Firstly Oyang hadn’t done anything shifty with Stone. He wanted to meet at his office. ShinComm Tower, fifty-sixth floor. The meeting itself looked OK. Stone was feeling good about it. The meeting with Robert Oyang was his kind of thing. He loved confronting corporate suits, and this time there was a danger element thrown in.

Stone looked around out of the car windows. They were still there. Two people on scooters behind the car, both wearing full-face helmets. No one wears those helmets in sweltering Shanghai. No one at all. They could be tailing him.

It could be professor Zhang’s Gong An which was tracking him — or it could be ShinComm themselves. It was an enormous corporation with huge reach, especially in Shanghai. Either way, ShinComm would know about Stone — his web site, his campaigns, his pursuit of Semyonov, the business in Afghanistan. And so would Oyang.

The taxi stopped again. Another set of lights in the smoggy humidity. There were at least two, possibly three men back there following him. Stone looked to the side, to another shop window full of job ads. Wanted female under 21 — must know computers. Wanted male over 1.70 m — must be able to accept hardship, work long hours . Stone wound up the windows and asked the driver to start the aircon. The guy did nothing but Stone kept the windows shut in any case. The backseat was covered in thick, protective plastic, burning hot. Stone positioned himself to see through the rear-view mirror.

Stone looked again at the facts about Oyang. Thirty-four. Highly intelligent. Educated at the elite Beijing Foreign Language Institute. He worked as a diplomat first in Nigeria, then he went to the Chinese consulate in San Francisco.

Chinese diplomats are high achievers. Their education system is one round after another of competitive exams to reach the next level — from middle school onwards. Oyang must have a first-class brain to go as far as he had done.

According to Ying Ning, Oyang’s career stalled in the US, because he was too westernised, not a real communist. From Junko’s file, however, Stone could see no evidence of career problems. Maybe Ying Ning just didn’t like him.

Certainly Oyang was westernised, though. By the look of it, during his time in San Francisco, he craved recognition as some kind of Bay Area intellectual. Oyang spoke French and Italian, fluently it was said. He affected to like expensive wine, and also art. He was popular in San Francisco for his liberal views on democracy and politics. Not your average Chinese guy.

Stone’s mind wandered to the image of Zhang — also a Chinese official, but the very antithesis of this Oyang.

Stone read on in Junko’s notes. Oyang may speak Italian and buy expensive wine, but it could be just a front, a means to an end. He was a charmer, and he was doing all those things as part of his job.

Oyang had been wasted in Nigeria, but he was the perfect man for the Chinese to send to Silicon Valley and charm Californian technologists into joining China’s research projects. According to Junko’s notes, he soon became known to the leading lights in Silicon Valley. He must have thought he’d hit the motherlode when he got to meet Semyonov.