Patrick Woodhead - The Cloud Maker (2010)

As Luca landed on the floor, he saw them both turn the corner and approach.

‘We must talk in private,’ Shara said, without further greeting. Luca looked from her to Dorje as she led him by the arm into the corridor outside.

‘I will take him to see Bill,’ she said to the monk.

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded his consent. ‘Very well, but be sure to keep me informed.’

As Dorje hurried off, Shara looked about her. Opening a small door just a few metres to their left, she beckoned Luca inside. It was a storeroom filled with urns of blue ink stacked against the far wall. A multitude of books were piled in high, tapering columns reached all the way up to the low ceiling.

Shara drew close to Luca, her voice dropping to a whisper.

‘We were followed by Chinese soldiers,’ she said, her face so close to his that he could smell her freshly washed hair. ‘They have been sighted just below the cliff-face.’

‘What?’ asked Luca, his voice rising defensively. ‘What the hell would soldiers want with us?’

Shara raised her hands, gesturing for him to be quiet.

‘It’s not you they’re after. Listen, Luca, the Abbot wants to know if you will help us. And, in doing so, he is putting an enormous amount of faith in you.’

She took him by his shoulders and stared directly into his eyes.

‘Can we trust you, Luca?’

‘Sure,’ he said, dismissing a sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her.

‘No. You need to think about your answer. What you decide now could alter everything.’

He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his pulse. ‘I promise you, Shara, you can depend on me.’

Shara seemed to steady herself, rubbing her wrists distractedly. In one hand she still held the scroll Dorje had given her. Luca could see her forefinger was stained with blue ink from the hours she had spent at her desk. No wonder this woman was getting under his skin – she was just so damn’ mysterious. What the hell had they been writing in the library?

‘OK,’ Shara said, glancing back towards the door. ‘For reasons that I can’t fully explain right now, we need to get a nine-year-old boy called Babu out of this monastery. That’s why the Chinese are here. It’s who they’re looking for.’

‘A nine-year-old boy?’ Luca asked, his forehead creasing in confusion. ‘What the hell do the Chinese want with a little boy?’

‘He’s not just a boy.’ Shara paused, glancing down. Every instinct screamed to her to keep his identity secret, but the Abbot had specifically instructed her to tell Bill and Luca. It was their help that was now needed.

‘Babu’s full name is Babugedhun Choekyi Nyima. He is the next reincarnation of His Holiness the eleventh Panchen Lama.’

Luca’s eyes widened.

‘Holy shit,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘But that’s impossible. There were posters of him all over Lhasa. The Panchen Lama was this pale, older-looking guy.’

‘That’s the candidate the Chinese are preparing to install at the Linka Festival. And that is precisely why Babu is in such danger. They need to get rid of him before the festival takes place because if Babu’s true identity ever became known, the whole inauguration would become a farce.’

Shara’s hand tightened around the scroll, scrunching it in the middle. As she continued, Luca could hear a new edge to her voice, a hardness that he had heard once before at Menkom.

‘What few foreigners understand is that the Chinese only hold on to this country by their fingertips. If you’d ever been in Lhasa after one of the uprisings, you’d have seen how deep the tensions run. If it ever became public knowledge that they had tried to assassinate the rightful heir to Tibet . . .’

She paused, trying to imagine the chaos that would ensue. Uprisings would spread throughout the land, rippling out along the spine of the Himalayas as the local tribes rose up against the military garrisons in each town. Every police station would burn, every Chinese shop window would be smashed. It had happened in the past on a smaller scale. This time, it would be unstoppable.

‘It would get very bloody,’ Shara said eventually. ‘They have already tried to kill Babu once, but we managed to get to him first. And now, with the Dalai Lama in permanent exile, the stakes are too high for the Chinese just to let him be. They won’t rest until he’s dead.’

‘Dead?’ Luca shook his head. ‘Jesus, I had no idea. The poor kid must be terrified.’

‘The only people to know of his identity are you, me and the Abbot. Dorje has only just been informed this morning.’

‘But Dorje’s just a guide here at Geltang. Why would he know?’

‘Dorje is a great deal more than he seems. He is one of the High Lamas here at Geltang and along with Rega, second only to his Holiness the Abbot.’

Luca stared past her thoughtfully.

‘All this time and I thought he was just an interpreter,’ he said, remembering how Dorje skillfully seemed to dodge every question. ‘But, Shara, there’s something I don’t understand. The Chinese have still got to find a route up the rock-face and through the Kooms. Surely Geltang’s got to be the safest place for the boy right now?’

Shara shook her head. ‘There are other elements at work. He’s safe in the Abbot’s quarters for now, but we have to move him to another location, and to do that, we need mountaineers. The Abbot thought you and Bill would be willing to guide us.’

Luca stared at her quizzically.

‘Bill? Bill’s not going to be well enough. The last I saw him, he couldn’t even stand.’

‘I’ve checked on him many times and saw him yesterday. He is over the worst of the fever now. He hasn’t got all his strength but he can definitely walk.’

Luca’s eyes narrowed in frustration. ‘You saw him yesterday? So why haven’t I been allowed in?’

‘I’m taking you to him now,’ Shara replied evenly. ‘But the question still stands. Will you help us or not?’

As Luca stared into her eyes, a new energy seemed to flood through him. He raised himself up to his full height without a twinge from his back. The prospect of new adventure caused him to smile at the corners of his lips.

‘Yeah, I’ll do it. But if four of us are heading out into the mountains we’re going to need some more supplies. Only Bill’s rucksack made it out of the cave and there’s not much: an MRS stove, fifty metres of rope, some hardware.’

‘I’ve spoken to Dorje about it. He’s already organised supplies and extra clothing.’

‘OK,’ said Luca, his mind racing. ‘I’ll have to sort through them. When do we leave?’

‘Tomorrow morning at first light,’ Shara said, suddenly feeling caught up by Luca’s enthusiasm. Maybe the Abbot had been right all along. Maybe they really could depend on these men.

‘Wait a second,’ Luca said. ‘You haven’t even told me where we’re going.’

Shara didn’t answer for a moment, then a smile seemed to play across her lips.

‘You’re finally getting what you wished for,’ she said. ‘We’re heading for the pyramid mountain.’

Chapter 48

Four figures moved silently along the corridors of the monastery. They brushed past the countless doors, occasionally cutting through a faint beam of light from an outside window as the late-afternoon sun spilled in from the far mountain ridge.

It was dusk and time for personal reflection. All the monks were in their cells, deep in meditation, leaving every corridor deserted, every door closed. It was the perfect time to act.

Rega moved fast, his left hand dragging against the wall, guided by every contour and imperfection. He turned sharply down a flight of stairs, then into a corridor which tunnelled directly back into the mountain. As the natural light began to fade, one of the three figures following in his wake paused to pull a nearby torch from the wall. The flame leaped up as he held it high, illuminating Drang’s scarred face.