Chapter 3

Petra awoke feeling slightly sick and badly disoriented. It took a few minutes for her brain to sift through the sensory data and remind her that she was in China after a gruelling twenty-five hours of non-stop travel halfway around the world. She rolled over and checked the clock. She had been asleep for five hours. Reluctantly, she forced her body out of bed and headed for the shower. Less than an hour later, she was ready to face the adventure ahead.

Quin was waiting for her with a smile that radiated far more friendship, Petra knew, than was really being offered. Petra returned the warm greeting, but didn't take it too seriously. She was used to people attempting to cultivate her friendship. In fact, Petra thought Quin had been remiss in not cultivating a friendship with her before this. Perhaps Quin planned to use this golden opportunity to correct that oversight.

They walked from the hotel, taking some of the back streets to the restaurant that Quin had picked for them. The mixture of the old and new China couldn't be more obvious. Old walled enclosures, made up of clusters of poor houses, or rows of single-room shops, grey and cluttered with second-hand merchandise, lined the street. Quin pointed out a small hospital built by the colonialists at the turn of the last century, a monument of Victorian architecture, and the place where the bones of "Peking Man" had been examined before they were crated and placed on a train, never to be seen again. The loss of this valuable archaeological evidence of early man's development was still a mystery. At the end of the block, a huge, modern sports complex was being built. China was a land of sharp contrasts.

They entered a large store and took an elevator to the second floor, where a busy local restaurant was located. Quin placed her hand on Petra's back and steered her to a small, round table in a quieter nook. "I thought I'd bring you here this first night because it's typical of the sort of restaurants that the rising middle-class of China frequent," Quin said over the noise and bustle around them.

Petra took in as much detail as she could. She was one of the few Europeans in a dining room filled with the dinner crowd. "I've been to other communist countries, but they're very different from this," Petra said.

"There are realities within realities in China. The massacre at Tiananmen Square taught both sides a hard lesson. The students learned that the days of the Red Guard, the student army that Mao had formed and then lost control of, were over. The leaders of China learned that they couldn't prevent change. But face is everything here. Change has to happen without seeming to happen. Communism still very much exists at an administrative level, but in everyday life, free enterprise is the reality."

"Have things changed that much, or has the government simply turned a blind eye to minor infringements of communist doctrine?" Petra asked, after waiting for Quin to order dinner in Mandarin.

"Things are changing; they have to. Once education, housing, and healthcare were paid for by the government. Now, the young people are expected to cover these costs. They can only do so if they're allowed to make money. Capitalism is everywhere, but without official approval. As long as the people don't threaten those in power with their actions, it's ignored."

Petra looked into Quin's eyes. "And if the leaders do feel threatened by the rapid change, we get another Tiananmen Square?"

"That's always a possibility. The Great March and Cultural Revolution changed life only superficially. Mao and his followers lived in the Forbidden City, as the Emperors before them. Their whims became law, just as the Emperor's. In a country that houses one quarter of the world's population, life is cheap no matter what people believe on a philosophical level. China is a five-thousand year-old mediaeval culture. The communist revolution rolled over the land as one more tide of events. In many ways, the old China went on."

Their meal arrived, and the conversation ended as Quin explained what each appetizing plate of food was. The dishes were placed on the circular platform in the centre of the table. It could be spun to bring the various dishes within reach. The food was typical of the hot, spicy cuisine of the southern areas of China, Quin explained. It had been Mao's favourite.

They ate quietly. Quin was an attentive hostess; she picked delectable pieces from the serving plates with her chopsticks and placed them on Petra's plate. Petra managed her chopsticks with reasonable accuracy, if considerable awkwardness, and found herself enjoying the company of the woman beside her.

The floor show was a mixture of dance and song, showing off the various costumes, folk dances, and music of different regions of China. It seemed to Petra that Quin didn't seem interested in the beautifully coloured silks and the interesting music played in the minor keys favoured by Eastern composers. Her quiet asides to Petra were about the culture and the symbolism behind each element.

Petra was equally as fascinated by her dinner companion as she was by the show. Quin Venizelos was far more than just a brilliant engineer. Her knowledge about the culture she lived in was amazing. Petra wondered if this European woman, raised by a twist of fate in an oriental family, saw herself as European or Chinese. Whatever her cultural reality, Quin Venizelos was a powerhouse of talent and drive. Petra could see more clearly now why her father had concerns. Having Quin as a regional director of the company was a little like holding a tiger by the tail. It gave Vossler Engineering a lot of power, but if the hand slipped, that power could very easily be turned against the company.

After the dinner show, Quin walked Petra down Gold Street, one of the main shopping areas of Beijing. Again, there was no sign that this was a communist country under strict government control. The streets were crowded by shoppers, and the stores offered the latest in European designs and technology. Billboards on roof tops advertised Calvin Klein, Nike, and other popular manufacturers, mixed in with the rare sign promoting communism and the worker.

Petra was surprised by the absence of visible military personnel, and spotted only the occasional police officer walking about, armed with nothing more than a wooden billy club. "I thought there'd be a stronger show of force," Petra said.

"There's very little street crime in China. The West doesn't always get the right idea from sensational media coverage. What happened in Tiananmen Square was brutal. Hundreds were killed or arrested. One Chinese announcer I know kept reporting what she was seeing on Chinese television so that the people would know the truth, even though she knew that one of the dead was her own brother. It was a brave act, but there's another side to the story."

Petra was shocked. "I don't call that sensational. I call it murder."

"That's because you don't understand China. What happened that night in Tiananmen Square was nothing to what happened during the Cultural Revolution. In those days, Mao thought he could use the energy and focus of the young to bring about cultural change. But he very soon lost control of the Red Guard. They weren't student heroes, they were punk gangs.

"The present government saw the student protests as a threat to their authority. They remembered how the Red Guard had gotten out of Mao's control. They didn't want that to happen. They felt the students had to learn that they were never going to be a political force again. Their role in the new China is to study, get good jobs, and move China forward."

Petra came to a stop in the crowded street and looked at Quin in disbelief. Around them, a sea of humanity swirled by. "I can't believe you're defending an act of total brutality."

"I'm not. I'm trying to explain how China functions. Let me try to explain in European terms. The Jesuits, in spreading Christianity to countries like Japan and China, would argue that the small lie is acceptable in the promotion of the greater truth. In China, you could say that the single life is expendable for the greater good."

"I could never accept that ideology."

"It isn't for you or for me to accept. This is China. We're simply observers in a world that isn't ours. Come, we'll go down Silver Street here, and it will take us back to our hotel."

Petra fell into step with Quin, but refused to let go of the topic.

"Surely, people have a duty to promote human rights and freedoms."

"That's not my job. Mine is to win contracts and see that the company gets the job done well, on time, and at a profit." They walked up the steps of the Palace Hotel, and a footman ran forward to hold the door open for them. They entered the elevator and went to their suite. Petra was mulling over what Quin had said.

"A nightcap?" Quin asked, once they were in their rooms.

"Yes." Petra sat down on the leather couch, kicked off her shoes, and tucked her feet under her. "A Baileys, if they have any." How would her father have reacted? Certainly he would have agreed that what came first and foremost were the company's goals. Still, she knew that Kurt Vossler would not so totally reject human rights Issue. Was this the sort of person to head Vossler Engineering? How would she deal with union issues?

Quin poured Petra her drink and made a Bloody Mary for herself. Petra decided that Quin hadn't done very well tonight. She should have stayed clear of China's complex history. Quin, you need to be more careful.

"Your drink," Quin said. Her fingers touched Petra's as the glass changed hands. Perhaps Quin had decided to make points on a physical level.

Still, the touch of Quin's fingers against her own sent tingles of excitement to places that Petra thought dead. This evening was really testing her current worldview. Quin had an animal magnetism about her that made her both charismatic and scary. Petra wondered what it would be like to sleep with Quin, and then quickly swept the idea from her mind. If you want to know, Petra, ask the many who have already passed through her bed.

"Why did you pick the field of sociology?" Quin asked. "In this age of economic wars, the arts and social sciences aren't seen as significant areas of study."

Petra laughed. "Spoken with a true business bias. Aggressive business practices are important, especially at a time when developing countries are fighting for a piece of the pie, but the bottom-line is that business is only money. It's not culture, and never will be. To have a decent society, you must foster the arts and social sciences. The pendulum will swing back to a more humane society as people realize that money isn't a god, merely a means to an end."

"Money and power are everything," Quin said. She took a sip of her drink.

Quin had emphasized the word power, and the many meanings behind the word sent a clear message to Petra. Inwardly, her body squirmed with the seeds of desire. Outwardly, she met Quin's eyes. "They're false gods. Eventually, Rhodes, Rockefeller, Gates, they all stopped and realized that the accumulation of wealth was meaningless. It's what you do with it that's important. We don't remember the rich for their wealth, but for the monuments of art and enlightenment that they leave behind: the Nobel Prize, Rhodes scholarships, the Carnegie libraries, the Rockefeller Institute. Things that matter. Culture."

"They only happened because of money and power," Quin argued.

Was she aware of and enjoying the intellectual and sexual tension growing between them? Petra wondered.

"Yes, money and power are important tools, but occasionally, society loses track of the fact that that's all they are, tools. Business isn't the be all and end all, it's only one element in the foundation of a good society. Whenever any one of those elements is allowed to dominate, then society starts to rot from within."

"I grew up in poverty. A Vossler scholarship and apprenticeship made it possible for me to escape. I think I'd rather believe in the tools of business than the arts and social sciences."

"Then you should be thankful that my father realized that money and power weren't enough and invested his money in scholarships and apprenticeship programs for the young," Petra said.

"It was good business. His scholarships bought talent and loyalty."

"Is that why you stay with Vossler?" Petra asked, hoping she was getting behind Quin's strong facade.

"Partly," Quin answered. "Another drink?"

Petra shook her head and, placing her glass on the table, she swung her legs down and stood. "No, thanks. I think I'll catch up on some much-needed sleep. Good night, Quin. Thank you for a most interesting evening."

"Good night, Petra. It's been a pleasure."

Petra lay mulling over the events and conversation of the evening. It had been a long time since she had been truly attracted to someone, but she had to admit that Quin was not only a mystery, but a dangerously sexy one. Quin is going to make a play for me. The thought both worried and excited her. Was she ready to move on? Could there be anyone after Val? She didn't think so.

Petra wondered what the next few weeks in Quin's company would be like. She touched her heart with her fingertips. Val, are you there, honey? You remember when you made me promise to always leave my heart open if anything happened to you? I don't think I can do that. When I think of leaving your memory behind and moving on, tears fill my eyes. You were my partner, and no other could ever come close to the love I feel for you. I love you, Val. Good night from China.