"Okay," Petra said. She knew that business was all about image. She had decided that engineering and the business world were not where her talents could be best used; however, she was well-informed enough to understand that to stay in business, you had to play by the rules. She sat on the board of directors of Vossler Engineering because the company was her father's, and some day the company would be hers.
Quin rented a car to drive them about. Their first stop was a pearl factory where cultured pearls were being raised. A small speck of white marble was placed inside each shell, and the oyster covered the irritant with layers of mucus. Over the years, a pearl was created.
After signing the guest book, Quin declined the offer of a guided tour and took Petra around herself. She showed her how even after five years the pearl was still a small bead. It was only after twenty or thirty years that the rare and large pearls were formed.
"It's the mineral content of the water that creates the varying colour in the pearl," Quin said. "Black pearls are found in water with a high copper content, pink from iron, and so on."
After the tour of the sorting rooms, they entered a huge showroom, and Quin left Petra to shop.
She stood at the side drinking tea with the manager, but Petra noticed that Quin kept her eye on her while she examined the display of pearl jewellery. When she stopped to look at a piece, Quin was at her side immediately. "If you rub two of the pearls together, they should feel rough. If you don't feel that roughness, the pearl is an imitation," Quin said.
Petra took the pearls from Quin's hands and started when Quin's finger's brushed her own. If Quin felt anything, she didn't react. Having helped Petra to evaluate what was a good price, she returned to lean against the wall.
Petra bought a necklace for herself and a brooch for her father to give to Olive. A single black pearl on a gold chain caught her eye. It was a good-sized pearl, and the black seemed to flash with luminescent colour. The salesgirl showed Petra the price on her calculator. Petra swallowed her misgivings and bought the pendant anyway. Her purchases complete, they continued on their trip.
The road was a superhighway, and the countryside not very interesting. Petra used the drive to pose some questions. "You've landed some pretty large contracts for Vossler. What do you feel is the significant factor in your success?"
"I get what I want. A little bribery, some extortion if necessary, a murder or two, although I do try to keep the number down."
"What?" Petra looked at Quin's profile.
"That's what you were expecting to hear, wasn't it?"
"Of course not," Petra protested, feeling betrayed by her own biases. "I was trying to get a better handle on your business methods."
"Bullshit. The West thinks the East is far more corrupt and cruel. It's not true. Business is just conducted differently here. Salaries are low. In many cases, it's expected that you'll supplement your income through tips. In North America, we call that bribery. Here, it's a goods and services tax by the individual."
"Come on, Quin, that's a semantics game, and you know it," Petra said.
"On whose part? What would you call business incentives if not bribery? Call shit anything you want, it's still going to smell."
"Then you admit to getting deals using questionable practices."
"No, I admit to nothing but common sense and good business techniques. I have never broken a law of a country I've done business in. Never. But the laws here are different from the laws in North America. I'm not so arrogant as to assume that the rest of the world should play by my rules. If I want to get equipment through Shanghai or Hong Kong undamaged and on time, then I pay the right people to see that happens."
"I understand that," Petra said, "but, we have a responsibility to promote an international business climate that's fair and regulated."
"It's easy to be noble when the so-called developed nations, European nations, control eighty percent of the world's wealth, even though they're only twenty percent of the world's population. Business is business. We either stay on top, or we don't survive. In developing nations, the rules are different, and I've learned to use them to my advantage."
Quin pulled into another factory parking lot and turned to face Petra. "I just snapped at the fly and got reeled in, didn't I?"
"It's my job to find out what makes you successful."
"And, of course, being an expert on the international business community, you know everything I just spouted off about," Quin added.
"Pretty much," Petra replied as she got out of the car, "but what I need to know about is you."
Quin followed.
A factory in China, Petra observed, was usually a labour-intensive, hands-on activity performed mostly by women. This factory was a mixture of both men and women cutting sheets of jade, then carving and polishing them.
"Here, Petra, is an example of jade and marble. Feel. The jade is much heavier. Jade can be either hard or soft, but generally the hardness factor is between six and eight, while diamond is ten, and glass is only five. Glass can be marked by jade, but good jade shouldn't be marked by glass. You have to be careful because there are a lot of imitations on the market. Jade comes in all sorts of colours. Generally, though, the darker and truer the colour, the better the quality. Do you see this jade?" Quin asked, leading Petra over to another table. "It's called Blood Jade."
Petra picked up a piece of cream-coloured jade with smears of red through it while Quin talked rapidly to the woman behind the counter. Money changed hands and a smiling Quin handed Petra a thin, round bracelet of Blood Jade. "We believe that if you wear a band of Blood Jade, it will help to keep your yin-yang forces balanced. This is for your father, to keep him healthy."
Petra looked to see if Quin had some inkling of her father's condition, but her face revealed nothing but good will. "Thank you, Quin. I'm sure he'll wear this faithfully. That was really nice of you."
"As the founder goes, so goes the company" she joked.
Petra looked around the showroom with interest, trying to find a piece of jade that would appeal to her father. There were amazing pieces: carved balls inside carved balls sometimes three or four deep, huge traditional landscapes weighing hundreds of pounds, and delicate pieces of intricately-carved jewellery. Quin found the perfect piece.
"Petra, do you see this sheet of grey marble mounted on a carved jade stand? Look at the grains in the marble. Can you see they form a miniature landscape? It's like a window into another world. This, I think, is a particularly fine piece. The base is a very dark green and cut into lotus flower patterns, nine in all, very lucky. The Chinese believe that evil spirits will be drawn to the stone landscape and be trapped inside. Most traditional homes have such a piece."
"It's just the thing. He'll love it. He likes things that have cultural meaning." Petra bought the piece on the spot. It was quite heavy, and Quin carried the base in one bag while Petra carried the marble sheet. Quin promised to ship it to Canada for her.
On the drive up into the mountains, Petra played with the Blood Jade bracelet. "I don't think I can accept that a particular colour of jade can bring health, but I'm interested in the traditional medicines of the East. Would it be possible to learn more in the short time I'm here?"
"That won't be a problem. I can arrange it easily." For the rest of the trip, Petra sat quietly, looking out the window and soaking in the beauty of the mountain terrain and small picturesque villages. Then, silhouetted against the sky, the spiny ridge of the Great Wall of China appeared.
"Oh, look!" Petra stared, slack-jawed.
Quin did look, both at the wall and at the excited woman beside her.
Chapter 6
They arrived at Badaling in the early afternoon and ate on a terrace below the Great Wall. High above them and running in both directions the wall spread out, undulating up and down like a roller-coaster. Brightly coloured triangular flags bearing the symbol of the dragon cracked in the wind, and mist floated in and around the mountains like ancient spirits. The hills were green and lush, the view panoramic, and the sky clear blue.
"Quin, this place is truly beautiful," Petra said as she drank her tea.
Quin looked at the structure critically. "The masonry in this area is excellent. Good granite blocks, and the cement is a mix of limestone and rice, which is remarkably durable. Other areas are simple rubble now because they weren't constructed as well. A wider base would have made the walls more stable, but the intermitted trapezoid guard towers compensate for that by providing what are essentially buttresses for the structure. By levelling the peaks and using the fill in the valleys, they could have reduced some of the steeper angles on the wall, but considering that it was essentially built by hand, 1 guess that would have been unreasonable. It's filled with rubble, but a wall that ten soldiers can walk abreast for thousands of miles is an interesting engineering feat for the time."
Petra stared at Quin in disbelief.
"What?" Quin asked.
Petra laughed. "Engineers! You're all the same. Hearts of granite and souls of cement. It's beautiful, Quin."
"Yeah, well, I never said it wasn't." They both laughed.
Together they climbed the stone steps to the wall, and Petra looked both ways. The wall extended on to the horizon in both directions. They walked slowly up the first steep section to the first guardhouse. It was a welcome relief to get inside the shade of the tower, for the temperature was again well over a hundred. The narrow windows funnelled the air through, creating a cool breeze. They climbed to the open second floor and stood at the ramparts looking out over the back of China. Here, above the noise and crowds of tourists, with the only sound the snap of the flags and the wind blowing down the valley, Petra could imagine the power and splendour that was Imperial China.
Quin looked up the mountainside to the guard tower a mile away. "Race you!" Petra yelled giving Quin a playful push and darting down the stairs, out of the guardhouse, and up the steep wall ramp. Quin was soon darting around tourists on her way up after Petra.
Petra was in good shape, but the wall was very steep and the air hot and thin. After her initial sprint from the guardhouse, she set a steady jogging pace up to the next tower, remembering how the heat and jet lag had bothered her the first day. Even so, the steep climb left her winded and with a stitch in her side by the time she made it to the cool shadows of the next tower.
Quin was right behind her and pulled her into a window alcove to catch the breeze. They sat panting, leaning on either side of the stone window, their legs entangled on the ledge. Petra slipped her camera from her pocket and took a picture of Quin, her blond hair blowing and the sweat dripping down her strong neck. She looked like some heroic Celtic warrior from long ago. Petra caught sight of her own brunette hair shimmering with red highlights in the sunlight as the wind whipped it in front of her face. She noted the rise and fall of Quin's chest as she caught each breath.
"Let me take one of you," Quin said as she snatched the camera from Petra's hands.
When she gave the camera back, she let her fingers linger on Petra's. Petra pulled her hand and camera away.
"Ready to go?" Petra asked.
Quin leaned forward and kissed Petra softly before walking away. She waited for Petra in the shade of the tower.
"You shouldn't have done that," Petra said.
"You let me," Quin said.
"Don't do it again," Petra said firmly. "You know how I feel."
"You might be wrong."
"I'm not," Petra said.
"I'm not sorry I kissed you. For a moment there, as we raced up to the guard house and sat in the window alcove, you let go of
your sorrow. But I'll respect your wishes, as stupid as they are, and not touch you again."
"Good," Quin was right. She had let her kiss her. "And I'm not wrong. You have no idea what real love is." Petra headed up the next level at a more subdued pace. Quin followed.
The ride back to Beijing was made mostly in silence. As they neared the city, they pulled into an herbal medical clinic.
"This place does research on traditional Chinese medicines. You said you wanted to learn more about that. In China, you have a choice of either western or eastern medicine when you go to a hospital."
"Which do you use?"
"I'm rarely ill. I tend to use western medicine. It's much quicker, but you run the risk of harmful side effects. Chinese medicine has no side effects and is often very good for strengthening your immune system and body, but it works much slower. I use a few things that Huang Qui used when I was a child, like Tiger Balm to ease sore muscles."
When they left the car, Quin didn't accompany Petra. Petra was taken to a room where a dozen or so other tourists were waiting, and after a few minutes, a doctor arrived to talk to them. "I am Dr. Wong, welcome. I am a trained doctor in both western and Chinese medicine. Today, I have the pleasure of introducing you to the healing powers of Chinese medicine."
Dr. Wong went on for some time about the types and uses of various medicines, showing them examples. Then Dr. Wong called on a man who healed by directing the forces within the body. The man first demonstrated his control of electrical forces by holding onto live wires. Then he had them all hold hands, and he allowed his body energy to travel through them. When the demonstration was over, each tourist was given an opportunity to receive a free diagnosis from one of the doctors on staff.
Petra's doctor took her pulse, checked her eyes, and looked at her tongue. He asked her whether she had pain in her lower back or if she got many headaches. Then she, like all the others, was given a prescription for herbal medicines that would cure her problems. Hers was for increasing the calcium in her system. Back in Canada, her own doctor had suggested she take calcium supplements, too.
Many of the tourists around her were buying the medicines that had been prescribed for them. Petra was sorely tempted to buy some of the ingredients that were prescribed for her, but when she learned
that she wouldn't be able to get them in North America, she didn't see the point. Based on what she'd learned from the doctor's lecture, she did, however, buy some Yi Ye tea for Quin's hot liver.
Quin was waiting in the lobby and saw the wrapped package in Petra's hand. "Did you find it informative?" Quin asked.
"Oh, very. Let me guess, while we were all focussed on the master concentrating on forcing his energy through us, the other guy took hold of the live wires, and that was what we felt. It was a ruse to get us to buy products. It's just one more Chinese factory. You tried to set me up," Petra said, as they walked out the car.
"The medicines you learned about are real enough, but okay, they do use a small parlour trick to get the tourists to buy. They need money. Everyone in China does. Besides, you did buy something."
"Sure did." Petra slapped the package into Quin's hands. "1 bought you some Yi Ye tea to cool that hot liver of yours."
Quin looked annoyed at being caught in her own trap, and then burst out laughing. Petra followed suit. "You're good. You are very, very good!" Quin put the car in gear and backed out of their parking space. Petra braced herself for the drive into the city. With millions of bikes on the roads and crowded, narrow streets, driving could almost be considered a martial art.
In the late afternoon, Petra had a nap. Had she been in China only two days? Already, she was on sensory overload. China was simply amazing. Then there was Quin. What was going on there? They had established a relaxed, easygoing relationship almost instantly. And the kiss? No, she wasn't even going to go there. Still, she had to admit that Quin had been right. For a short time today, she had moved beyond her grief.
Quin tried to work, but gave up to go stand by the window. She had never been rejected before. She played the game well and had the body and looks to use those talents to the maximum. She'd had relationships with both men and women on the way up. Affairs that ended well enough as mutual interests and contacts changed. She had enjoyed the game, but emotionally had felt nothing.
But Petra had hit some chord in her. She wanted this woman with an intensity that was scary. She couldn't get anywhere near Petra without wanting her. What was this? Was it simply the
temptation of forbidden territory? That thought was like salt being rubbed on the wound to Quin's ego. According to her plan, she should be taking Petra to bed tonight. That it wasn't going to happen really pissed her off.
One thing was for sure, that kiss today was kissing her job good-bye. She'd better put some feelers out to some contacts that she might be on the job market soon.
Quin had planned a very special meal. It was to have set the mood for her winning Petra's body. Even though that wasn't going to happen, she saw no reason not to carry through with the evening. She and Petra left the hotel at eight and walked down Silver Street to Gold, where they entered an excellent restaurant in a beautiful old Victorian building. They were taken to a private room and served plum wine. Appetizers of fresh vegetables and paper-thin slices of meat and fish with hot, spicy dips followed.
They talked of the various contracts that Vossler was handling in the Pacific Rim division. Quin used the opportunity to impress Petra with all she had accomplished. Later, they were served Peking Duck. Quin told Petra that the ducks were force-fed to make them extra tender and fat. The skin and meat were cut from the carcass and placed on a small, thin crepe; a rich, sweet sauce was added, along with fresh chives and then the mix was rolled up and eaten with the fingers.
Quin, acting the hostess, made each crepe for Petra and placed tantalizing pieces of vegetables from various other dishes on Petra's plate. White rice accompanied the meal. They listened to the oriental ballads that drifted from the exterior room and laughed and talked of various things over a dessert plate of fresh slices of mango, papaya, and pineapple.
Then Quin made tea. The taste was rich and smooth, and smelled like summer grain. She had chosen the blend especially. It would settle Petra's stomach and, since she was unaccustomed to Chinese food, promote her digestion.
The setting, meal, and atmosphere were certainly the ideal mood setter. Quin, however, planned to keep the promise she had made that afternoon. Instead of suggesting they return to their room, she asked Petra if she would like a walk around the stores before returning to their hotel. Petra agreed, and they spent a pleasant few hours window-shopping.
Chapter 7
The next day, their last in Beijing, Quin took Petra to see the Summer Palace. It was the summer retreat of the Imperial family, four times larger than the Forbidden City. Built around a lake with a high, pinnacle-shaped hill to one end, the grounds of the Summer Palace looked like a miniature of the beautiful landscape pictures in inks. One shore of the long lake had been left wild except for the single tower of a Buddhist temple. The other side had a wide marble promenade running along the shore. It bent and flowed with the terrain and small, arched bridges formed shortcuts across shallow bays filled with pink and yellow water lilies. Now and again, they caught sight of the large gold carp in the lake. A causeway of stone led to an island landscaped in the Buddhist tradition. A summer house built in multiple layers was the centrepiece of the island, and seemed to grow out of the very rock, like a fairy castle.
Quin led Petra along the covered walkway that the last Empress of China had ordered built so that she could enjoy a walk along the shoreline even in the rain. Quin asked if she might take Petra's arm so that she didn't lose her in the weekend crowds enjoying the parklands. "This roofed breezeway is nearly a mile long and is broken up by a series of domed gazebos. If you look up at the crossbeams, you'll see beautiful oil paintings. They were done by some of the most famous painters of the time and show scenes from classic myths, novels, and religious stories. This walkway is an open air art gallery," Quin said.
Petra walked close at Quin's side, marvelling at the bright patterns, predominately red and green, but highlighted in a rainbow of colours and patterns. The walkway itself was such a jewel that, until Quin pointed them out, Petra almost overlooked the beautiful cedar trees that the pathway wandered through and the water gardens, sculptures, and bright tropical flowers they passed.
Out on the lake, flat-bottomed boats with elaborate pagoda roofs taxied visitors back and forth. Their hulls were shaped and
painted like colourful dragons, the bow the rearing head of the mythical beast and the stern a spiked tail. Quin saw Petra's eyes light up with delight. "Would you like to take one of the dragon boats back?" she asked.
"Please, can we?"
In the dragon boat, they could see the large marble boathouse carved in the shape of a two-story-high steamboat. Although massive, it was delicately beautiful and so cleverly constructed that it did, indeed, look like it was floating. Behind it rose the high hill on which the Imperial family's summer retreats were actually built.
"The last Empress used to have her afternoon tea on the marble boat," Quin said as Petra took pictures.
"Words can't describe how wonderful this place is."
"Some of the engineering is quite amazing," Quin agreed, and Petra gave her a playful swat. Quin said nothing, content to see the grief lift from Petra's eyes, if only briefly.
The long morning had been enchanting. The awkwardness over the kiss the day before had disappeared in the excitement of sightseeing. Quin brought along a picnic lunch for them, and they sat in a quiet garden of tropical flowers away from the crowds.
"It's funny, there are people everywhere, and yet I rarely feel hemmed in," Petra said.
Quin swallowed a slice of pear. "Strangers avoid looking you in the eye or talking to you unless there's a reason. There's little physical space, so society allows you mental space. It's a different way of looking at freedom. Sometimes oriental people find the in-your-face friendliness of westerners rather rude."
Petra nodded.
"I once read this booklet of advice for Japanese tourists travelling to America. It explained that Americans could be dangerous because their cultural patterns were unpredictable, and that it was best to stay in large groups for safety."
Petra laughed and for a second their eyes met, then Petra looked away. "So, where are we going next?"
"The next stop on the marvellous, magical tour is the Temple of Heaven. It is time for you to learn that everything in China has a symbolic meaning, particularly numbers."
They returned to their rented car and set off. They shared a bag of fresh grapes, Petra dropping the grapes into Quin's hand as she drove. We 're acting like an old married couple, Quin mused and then shook the thought from her head. Petra had made it clear at the
Great Wall that since Val's death, she no longer saw herself in the role of a lifelong partner. Quin had never been interested in long-term relationships until now. That thought was very disturbing.
While they drove, Quin related the history of The Temple of Heaven, including the fact that it was where priests would make sacrifices to the seven previous Emperors in hopes of a bountiful harvest. The meat would be divided and burnt in the eight braziers, one for each of the seven dead Emperors, and one for the present Emperor."
"Not human sacrifices, I hope," Petra said.
"Of course not! Nor do the Chinese eat dogs and cats, like westerners are fond of saying. It was mostly bulls that were sacrificed for food for the gods here."
Quin continued her history lesson for Petra. "There are three levels because it's sacred number and a factor of nine, which is a very special number. The first level represents hell, the second, earth, and the third, heaven."
They walked up the marble stairs to the first terrace. "Look at the marble tiles that make up the flooring. Each level has nine and a half rows. Nine and five are both sacred numbers, and together they symbolize eternity."
"How interesting," Petra said, counting the rows of tiles.
"In China, everything has meaning. A square is a symbol for the earth. That's why the courtyards here are square. The blue tile on the top of the courtyard wall represents the sky. The terraces are round because that's the symbol of heaven."
Quin fished into a pocket of her blue jeans and pulled out a Chinese coin. It was round and the centre was punched out in the shape of a square.
"Earth and heaven," Petra said. They walked up the remaining levels to see where the Emperor would pray for the success of the coming harvest in the very centre of the circle.
On their return to the hotel, Quin reminded Petra they would be flying out to Xian early the next morning and suggested that Petra might want to spend sometime repacking her suitcase for the next leg of their journey. Petra disappeared into her room. Quin found herself restless and moody. Her past experiences had not prepared her for how she was reacting to the boss's daughter. Damn! This was the worst of luck.
Or was it? She never wanted to tie herself down, and so it was a good thing Petra wasn't interested. Besides, the only reason Quin was so obsessed with her was because Petra was playing hard to get. Quin could never resist a challenge. Forget her. Give her a good tour of China, prove that you're an exceptionally competent manager, and send her home to daddy.
Their last night in Beijing, Quin took Petra to an exclusive restaurant on the very top of a five-star hotel. They sat by a huge picture window overlooking the Forbidden City far below and beyond it, the city of Beijing. Over wine, they watched the sunset turning the city gold, and as lights came on and night crept across the sky, the city lights became a bed of diamonds.
They ate a European meal of roast beef and lingered for a long time over their coffees. Mellow and contented, the women strolled back to the Palace Hotel for their last night in the capital of China.
Chapter 8
"What do you mean, you're the pilot?" Petra asked as she followed Quin into the cockpit of the company plane the next morning. "What happened to the pilot we had?"
"He's working, flying machinery out of Shanghai on our cargo plane." Quin went through her preflight check.
"Do you know how to fly this thing? I mean, I've seen you drive," Petra said.
"I drive really well." Quin stopped her fuel check to glare at Petra.
"You drive like a maniac," Petra said.
"Everyone does, otherwise you'd never get anywhere."
Petra looked at the confusing array of dials, levers, and switches in front of her in the co-pilot's seat. "What if you have a heart attack or something? What should I do?"
"Oh, wiggle that little red switch over there," Quin said as she continued her check.
"What does that do?" Petra asked. The tag below read landing lights.
"Nothing, but it will keep you occupied as we do a nosedive to the ground." Quin smiled.
"Great, just great," she said and then sat with her arms folded and said no more until they were airborne.
The flight to Xian was smooth and uneventful. Again, Quin rented a car and they travelled through miles of fertile, flat farm county. Quin pointed out the huge mounds that dotted the plains. "In ancient times, Xian was the capital of China. These are the graves of the first true Emperors of China."
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