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Jake Maroc - Shan Part 16

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The gate, only an inch or two in front of him, began to tremble, then open very slowly. Zilin's skin crawled at the thought of Chiang's discovery, at what the Generalissimo would do to him.

Now he could detect the presence of someone on the other side of the door. There was motion and, beyond that, intent. Whoever it was was entering the courtyard and Zilin knew that his time had come. It was kill or be killed, he knew that very well. He had killed before, Chiang's men to be exact, in order to save his wife Mai. He had had no choice.

No choice now either, but he thought of Buddha and his teachings. In that, at least, Davies had not been wrong. Or naive.

Movement began in a headlong rush; he was given no more time. Thought ceased and action took over, the organism seeking to protect itself at all costs.

The blur of a figure on the run. Zilin lunged out from his hiding place, arms wrapped, his strength combining with his momentum to bring them both down. His arm was raised to deliver the killing atemi when the image filling his eyes registered on his brain.



His arm came down and the heavy shudder of the excess adrenaline moving about with no release went through him. The anger was gone.

"What are you doing here?"

She thought he was angry with her and she began to cry. It was Pu's daughter, the one who had seen the fire in Ross Davies's hair.

It was not good and Zilin knew that it was not going to get any better.

The horse had stumbled. Perhaps its load had been too heavy or his hoof had caught in a root or a rock fissure. It didn't really matter, that part.

What mattered was that a thousand pounds of dead weight had come cras.h.i.+ng down on Mr. Pu. The horse's leg had fractured on impact, of course. Zilin determined that Mr. Pu's lower intestines and spleen had been ruptured. He had drowned in his own blood.

In the meantime, the horse went on suffering. With his broken leg, he would be of no use to the Pus now except as table meat. But Zilin had to do something about the animal's pain.

He thought of Ross Davies and his wild, exultant cries as his hands slid over the horse's sweat-soaked hide. He thought of his own wild rush at freedom astride this animal's strong back. He found the nerve juncture and pressed inward with a short sharp jab, so that the light went out of those wildly rolling eyes.

The girls were weeping openly but their mother remained stone-faced. Her stoicism reminded Zilin of the countless faces of war victims he had observed, empty-eyed and empty-hearted. He wondered whether in these pragmatic times the old woman mourned the loss of her husband or her horse the most. Without Mr. Pu they would go on, at the very least survive. But the death of the horse was another matter entirely.

. "We have not even the money to pay for a proper funeral," Mrs. Pu said later. Her voice was as thin as the wind outside.

Zilin and the girls had stayed behind to butcher the animal since its flesh needed to be eaten fresh. The old man lay where he had fallen, covered in black, clotted blood and a shower of tea leaves.

"What will become of his spirit if it is not properly ushered into the next life?"

She spoke not to any one person, though Zilin and her daughters sat beside her, but to the house as a whole. It was as if she felt the spirit of her dead husband still inhabiting the rude rafters and floorboards, and she expected the answers to emanate from there.

Zilin had gotten the idea while he was working shoulder to shoulder with the Pu girls on the horse. He had said nothing, but rather had begun to turn it over in his mind like a rare and fascinating jewel that needed to be observed from every angle.

It was a daring ideamore than that, in fact, it was crazy. But, then, he told himself, these were crazy times. And, of course, there was a kind of Buddhist symmetry to it, a balancing of loss and gain that was appealing to that part of him that demanded a final accounting between what was right and what was wrong.

As he watched the pale light flow across Mrs. Pu's face, as he absorbed a portion of the anguish that racked her, he thought of what he was about to ask. Did he dare? But he knew that the question was, rather, dare he not?

Strictly speaking, what he would ask of her was morally wrong according to the tenets of Buddhism. But China was at war; survival was the goal, at least for the short range until conditions improved. And survival was precisely what Zilin would be offering the Pus. Survival in exchange for a "Madam," he said, leaning forward so that he would not have to raise his voice. There was no point in getting the girls involved at this point. "I know a way that you may ensure that your husband's spirit will be properly escorted to the next life."

Her head came up. She brushed strands of prematurely gray hair out of her eyes. She had been weeping silent tears, her head bowed so that her daughters would not see. There was nothing, Zilin saw, tired about her eyes. They held his with a feverish intensity. Hers was a hard life. This fact had long ago ceased to disturb her. She had accepted her josswith the absolute faith of her forebears. It was the way; the only way.

"Our loss is great, s.h.i.+ tong zhi," she said. "But you have already done more for us than I could have asked or even have imagined. It is wrong to ask more of you."

"On the contrary, madam," he said carefully, "it is I who now must ask of you a terrible favor. I have it in my power to grant your wishes. I can provide the proper funeral for your late husband. I can, further, provide your family with another horse."

Mrs. Pu said nothing, though she had ceased to weep. Her wise eyes searched his face. At last she said, "The war is universal in the pain it inflicts, neh?"

Zilin bowed his head in acquiescence.

"We must survive, s.h.i.+ tong zhi" she said with a voice grown stronger. "No matter the cost. If you can ensure that, then I and my daughters will be in your debt for all time, this I pledge to you."

Zilin knew that it was he who was in her debt but he was intelligent enough not to argue. "I wish to tell you what it is I require before you give your consent."

Her eyes narrowed momentarily. "You will not take my daughters from me?"

"Never, madam."

"I thought not." She settled herself like a bird upon its perch. "I know you, s.h.i.+ tong zhi. I have observed your heart. That is not your way." She nodded gravely. "Do as you will, then. We shall survive. Tragedy will not break us, though we bend like the supple bamboo-."

"I wish you to know."

She shrugged. "Joss."

Zilin nodded. "Joss."

"You are insane," Huaishan Han said. "Absolutely insane."

"Why?" Zilin said. "Because I want to die?"

Huaishan Han snorted. "You'll never get away with it."

"With your help, I will."

"Impossible!"

Zilin had sent one of the girls into Chungking with a message for Huaishan Han. He did not arrive until well after dark. His face was pale and drawn. "Buddha," he said a bit breathlessly, "when you disappeared from town, I feared the worst. What has happened?"

Zilin told him. Then he began to explain about his plan. "Now," he said, leading Huaishan Han out of the farmhouse, "I will demonstrate why it is not impossible."

He had built several small fires around the periphery of the area where Mr. Pu still lay. He had not wanted to move the body but something had to be done to keep the animals at bay.

"Look," Zilin said, taking Han inside the circle of fire. "We are of approximately the same age. Our height and weight vary only slightly, certainly not enough for anyone to notice."

Huaishan Han grunted. "You don't look much alike."

"True enough," Zilin said. "But when we get through with him, that won't matter."

Huaishan Han turned to stare at Zilin. "You're mad."

"On the contrary, I have found the path out of the dilemma Chiang has put me in. It is quite simple, really. My death will put an end to everything. Chiang's vendetta will be nothing more than a whiff of smoke."

"How did you think of such a thing?"

"This man is dead," Zilin said. "I did not wish it but it is so. His family has nothing. Without a horse who knows what will happen to them. For the loan of this husk from which the spirit has already departed, I will give them that which they need in order to carry on."

"Tell me something, Comrade with the pure heart," Huaishan Han said with an edge to his voice, "what would you have done if Mrs. Pu had said no? Would you have allowed them to starve?"

"I would have done precisely what I am doing now. I would have a.s.sured Mr. Pu of a fine burial; I would have found them another horse. There really is no other way."

Huaishan Han regarded him for some time. The crackling of the fires lit up the night, the smell of woodsmoke almost drowned out the sickly sweet smell of death.

"I think Mrs. Pu was aware of all this," Zilin said. "But her indebtedness to me precluded her turning me down. As long as she knew I wasn't planning to take away her daughters, she was willing to comply. The exchange satisfied her sense of debt as well."

Huaishan Han looked away, down toward the corpse. He leaned down, picked up a stiffened arm. He turned the hand over so that it faced him palm up. "The face we can disfigure," he said. "But what about these." He brandished the hand, thick and yellowed with peasant's callus.

Zilin laughed and held out his own hands for inspection. Their heavy layer of callus shone with the translucence of ivory. "You forget, Comrade, that I am a true revolutionary. I worked long years in the fields with the peasants. I am one of them, as all Communists should be.

"When we exchange clothes, when we set my ring upon his finger, when we've set the accident and it is you who finds the body, I will be p.r.o.nounced dead, all right. Of that I am certain."

And it was as Zilin had said. No major inquiry was held, at Mao's request. The body of Zilin, found along the slopes of Jinyun Shan, at the foot of a long drop off the roadside, provided no ominous overtones. It was obvious to everyone that he had been walking at night and had been struck either by a vehicle or a large animal and had been pitched over the side of the cliff. Regrettable, certainly, but hardly suspicious. Joss.

At Mao's express wishes, Huaishan Han remained in place within Generalissimo Chiang's inner circle. And the wealth of information he provided Mao was to a large partat least in Zilin's opinionthe tide that turned fortune toward the Communists.

Mao stayed on in Chungking until almost the middle of October of 1945. Even though he knew from Zilin that Chiang had no intention of entering into a binding coalition agreement, still his sense of duty and, Zilin supposed, propriety, dictated that he remain.

In the fall, Mao left Chu Enlai to continue the fruitless negotiations, though this was little more than a sop to the insistent but increasingly frustrated Amba.s.sador Hurley.

Returning to Yunnan, Mao set up his council of war. The Russians had at last entered the war against j.a.pan, Stalin's keen nose scenting the kill. Divisions of the Soviet army penetrated south into Manchuria, wiping out the j.a.panese units as they went.

This was of paramount concern to Mao, whose greatest fear at the moment was that Chiang's Nationalist army would be allowed by the Americans to take over the so-called liberated zones as the j.a.panese divisions were defeated. There was, Mao knew well, a wealth of war ordnance and materiel that could be of incalculable a.s.sistance to his ill-equipped army. He shuddered to think of what would happen if the Nationalists gained the strength of that hardware and put it to use against his forces.

This fear he made manifest to Zilin who, alone of all his advisers, he was candid with. "Chiang has the superiority of number," Mao said, one bleak, rain-filled day near the end of the year. "He has the backing of both the Americans and the Russians. His is the government recognized by the world. He has the power now, I fear, to destroy us utterly."

Zilin, standing against the stone wall of the cave they had made their headquarters, said, "That Chiang's troops outnumber ours will not figure in the outcome of this conflict."

Mao, sitting cross-legged on a rug that had been spread along the floor, regarded his most trusted adviser. "Please continue, Comrade."

Zilin closed his eyes, put his head back against the cool stone. Outside, the rain was a gray-green sheet, obscuring the countryside.

"Sun Tzu has said, Mao tong zhi, that though the enemy may be as mult.i.tudinous as stars, if he does not know your military situation he will not know how to prepare for your coming.

"We must change our strategy. Chiang will become confused, for by now he feels that he has divined our purpose. That much Han has a.s.sured me.

"If you further disturb his regular military patterns with unannounced forays into his territory, it will increase his confusion. If you then follow a secret strategya strategy known only to ourselves, and not even to the generals of our armiesthen truly you can say that you are the creator of this most important Communist victory."

For a long time, Mao said nothing. He rose and began to pace the cave. "Manchuria is the key," he said finally. "I can feel it. Manchuria is the key to Chiang's victory. That is why he has been so insistent about it in the negotiations. If we can trap him there, then we will have a victory."

Zilin's eyes were still closed. "To that end, then, Mao tong zhi, let us commit ourselves heavily to Manchuria."

"Yes."

"Let us draw Chiang northward into Manchuria. Let us create for ourselves a memorable defeat in Manchuria."

"What?" Mao stood stock still.

"Yes," Zilin said. "Yes. Let us show our strategy to Chiang. We will ma.s.s an army at a city crucial to the taking of Manchuria. Which one?"

Mao, fascinated despite himself, said, "Ssuping would do nicely."

"Let it be Ssuping," Zilin said, nodding. He opened his eyes. "It will mean great loss of life, I am afraid. But from this defeat, Chiang will surely believe that he has gotten a feel for us. His superior strength will work against him." Zilin outlined his plan.

In May of 1946, the Communist army suffered heavy losses in its defeat at Ssuping. Two months later, Mao declared that his forces were henceforth to be known as the People's Liberation Army.

Now, Mao gave orders that his army abandon all cities in Manchuria that could not be guarded by a minimum force. The majority of the People's Liberation Army began their new life as a guerrilla force, highly mobile attack units.

Chiang, puffed up by what he thought was a decisive victory at Ssuping, viewed the PLA change in strategy as another victory for his Nationalist cause. Accordingly, he directed ma.s.sive numbers of divisions to move into the Manchurian towns left behind byin his opinionthe fleeing Communist forces.

Added to this, in the spring of 1947, Chiang, buoyed by his successes in Manchuria, began a furious offensive strike against the Communist forces. As Mao's armies split apart, as Mao and his advisers took to the hills of Yunnan, Chiang's mind was filled more and more with the glittering prize of ultimate victory.

To this end, he ordered more and more cities taken and garrisoned in the enormous s.p.a.ces of Manchuria. Until, as Zilin had predicted, his forces were badly overextended.

Cued by Han, Mao's People's Liberation Army now began their first serious counterattack. Months long and unremitting, it began to have its effect. Within nine months, Peng Tehuai, the Communist field commander, had defeated the Nationalist army at Sian. This effectively cut off Chiang's potential line of retreat from Yunnan. Now, the Communist forces drove inward from two sides for the killing blow.

The Americans poured advisers and money in ever increasing numbers on the Nationalist side. The worse the situation became, the more terrified they were, the more money they spent.

Months before, Major General David Ban had pleaded with Chiang to abandon his positions in Manchuria. Mao had left only skeleton divisions in Manchuria but, acting on his directives, they recruited the remnantsthree hundred thousand strongof the Manchurian "puppet" army of Manchurian Chinese used by the j.a.panese and left behind after their defeat in the war, and the Russians' subsequent withdrawal. Now the PLA was strong in the north without having had to sacrifice divisions in the south.

But Chiang, abetted by some of his advisersamong them Han refused to abandon so vital an area. General Barr was, after all, a faan gwai loh. He could not be expected to understand the historical imperative of gaining control of Manchuria.

In November of 1948, the Communist army, under the overall leaders.h.i.+p of Chen Yi, commenced an offensive of immense proportions in the central eastern provinces. Fully half a million Nationalist soldiers were annihilated in just three short months.

Now Chiang was ready to sue for peace. But the march to liberation had begun and not the Generalissimo or the monied Americans or the truculent Soviets could stand in the way of the ma.s.sive dreadnought created out of intervention, bitter hatred and despair.

In April, Mao's forces had captured Nanking. By the autumn, complete victory was theirs. On October 1, 1949, in Peking, the People's Republic of China was born.

MaoChairman Maohow he was hailed on that day! As for the man who walked at the end of the line, cast in shadow, few knew his face and none knew his name.

II.

EMPTINESS.

SAMVARTASIDDHA.

Winter-Spring Present.

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