"That's grcnt." Petra smiled. "This wound looks good, too."
"Glad you think so. If you like scars, I have others."
"You promised to be good."
"It's a guarantee," Quin said. Petra threw the pillow at her before gathering up the first aid supplies.
"You're impossible. I'll leave you to get on with your e-mail and go read my book."
"A book is better than me?" Quin sighed dramatically.
"Lady, a Campbell Soup label would be more entertaining than that act." Petra made her exit.
In the privacy of her room, she fretted about what her true relationship with Quin might be. Did Quin see her as pretty, intelligent, witty, or just the boss's daughter with whom she needed to cultivate a friendship? Frustrated, she opened her book and forced herself to read.
Chapter 11
The next day, Petra fastened her flight harness and looked apprehensively at Quin, who was going through her preflight check.
"Yes, I'm fine to fly, and no, I'm not on medication," Quin said without even looking up from her clipboard.
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to. You have fear written all over you."
"I'm not afraid to fly... much. I just feel safer in a big plane," Petra said.
"Safety in numbers?" Quin asked. She clicked on her mike to ask for a runway clearance.
Petra made a face at Quin and then braced herself. Careening down the runway in the front of an aluminum tube at over a hundred miles an hour was not her idea of a really good time.
The flight to Chongqung was uneventful. Once on the ground, Quin hired a taxi to take them through Chongqung, a working-class town, to the dock where the Yangtze River Cruise boat was docked. The countryside was hilly, and Quin told Petra that the economy was based on farming, mining, and industry.
The taxi driver said something to Quin, and they had a short discussion. Then Quin looked at Petra and shrugged. "We have to go visit another factory so I can sign the government book. It won't take long."
"Do you have to do this every time you visit a city?"
"No. It's because you're on a tourist visa. China needs foreign currency," Quin said. "We're going to see a mill where silk cocoons are spun into thread."
"Chinese silks! Are they as beautiful as the history books say?"
"Some are, but I don't think this particular factory produces very high-grade silk. It's little more that a sweatshop. The labour is female and the management male. Try not to lead a social revolution," Quin said dryly.
"Are you implying that I would?"
"I rather suspect so." Quin smiled in a way Petra hadn't previously seen. It was a sudden flash of delight that lit Quin's face, softening features hardened by responsibility. Petra found Quin's smile charming.
Petra stood watching the weary women standing on a wet cement floor with their hands in very hot water. They caught the threads of the wet cocoons as they bobbed by in a trough and attached them to the spinning machine. The machines were old, and the moving parts exposed near the woman's hands. The factory itself was steamy and smelt like a wet dog, and the temperature was well into the high 90s.
Petra cornered the manager, who had been proudly showing them around, and started firing questions at him about the company's market, sales, and the working conditions for the women. Quickly, Quin moved in and edged Petra out to the taxi van. They sat in the back in silence as the driver drove them down to the ship that was moored along the riverbank.
Petra spoke first. "I understand the importance of economic viability, but those women need to strike for better working conditions. One can't expect working conditions to be at the high level one finds in an industrialized nation, but things could be better with just a few safeguards and modifications put into place."
Quin laughed softly but said nothing.
"I just wanted to hear what that manager had to say," Petra said.
"The working conditions and pay are appalling, I agree, particularly at that factory. But this isn't North America. This is China, a country struggling to rebuild after the disastrous years of the Cultural Revolution. They have jobs. The factory is as mechanized as it can be. Yes, it's hard, miserable work. That's why it's women's work," Quin said.
"And I suppose you think that makes it okay?"
"No, I don't. But I'm here to do a job, and I hope that job will improve the lot of the women in that factory, and many more. It isn't my job to tell other countries how to treat their people."
"I agree to some extent, but 1 think people have to make a stand. We need to question and encourage the steady improvement of working and living conditions throughout the world. I'm not calling for revolution, just a focus on an awareness of human needs
that might lead to a better world. The exploitation of women is wrong."
"Yes, it's wrong. It's also wrong that twenty percent of the world's population, mostly whites, control eighty percent of the world's wealth. Perhaps in time there'll be a more even spread between the have and have-not nations, but I don't think we're willingly going to give up any of our disproportionate piece of the pie. That's where we differ, I guess. You think it's possible, and I only wish it were. Ah, here we are."
They pulled up in front of a steep embankment with a series of broken and uneven steps which led down to the water's edge. From there, a chain of metal ramps and wood planks led from one rusty old barge to another until one reached the ship.
Petra stood on the high bank and looked out over the wide Yangtze River. It was a river of legend. Yellow with mud and filthy with years of transportation and refuse, it swirled along just as powerfully as it had for thousands of years. History bent and changed, not the river. Until now. Until Quin and her fellow engineers arrived to conquer this river and force it into the twenty-first century. Petra wasn't sure how she felt about that.
They started across the makeshift dock to the ship that would be their home for the next four days, and declined the help of the locals who wanted a tip for assisting the tourists across the wobbly gangplanks. Just as Petra stepped onto the last barge, a terrifying sound started up, and only with difficulty did she recognize it as an attempt at playing Ode to Joy.
Quin took Petra's elbow and led her around the corner of the barge's pilothouse to come face to face with six young Chinese girls dressed in white and blue silk uniforms, who were belting out a shaky rendition of the European classic for all they were worth on battered old brass instruments. The Chinese attempt at recreating what they thought was a proper European ship's departure tickled Petra no end. The tour director smiled broadly and shook their hands, and then led them to the dining room where the buffet lunch was being served.
Again Petra was amused to see the careful, if misinformed, attention the Chinese had taken to setting the table in a festive European style. At one end of the buffet table stood a three-tiered wedding cake, and at the other end was a small, worn Christmas tree with wrapped boxes under it. The food, too, was a strange mix of
European dishes made from Chinese produce. Petra found it humorous and delightful.
The good cheer lasted as long as it took them to get to their suite. The luggage was neatly standing in a row in the small sitting room. This room contained a bar fridge, love seat, and two chairs around a small table. The bathroom was small but adequate, but the bedroom had only one double bed. Petra turned and looked at Quin.
"I didn't know. I thought all suites had two bedrooms. Honest!" "Sure, Venizeios," Petra teased, enjoying having the upper hand. "Let's see, you're about six feet. That love seat looks about four, so if you sleep sitting up, there won't be a problem."
"Come on, Vossler. We shared a bed only last night. Have mercy; it's a four day trip. I can't sleep sitting up for four days." Quin made a pitiful face. "Besides, I have a sore leg."
"You're pathetic. Okay, I see your point. I'll give you one of my pillows, and you can sleep on the floor."
"Petra, give me a break here. I'll wear pyjamas. I won't sleep under the sheets. I'll take a cold shower every night before coming to bed—"
"The question is, will you keep your promise to be good?"
"Is there another way?" she asked
"No."
Quin sighed. "I promise. But don't tell anyone. It will ruin my good name."
"Good name, my foot! Your reputation, you mean."
Quin nodded with an evil grin. "Yeah, that's what I mean."
Chapter 12
They spent the evening at a lecture on the culture and history of China, followed by a social to get to know the other passengers. Quin was soon deep in conversation with the captain about changes in navigation as the river levels rose with each step in the dam completion. Left to her own devices, Petra wandered off to get to know more passengers. Quin was impressed at how well Petra was able to socialize with strangers. She was good at making people feel relaxed and talkative. Clearly, she was comfortable in the role, having stood at her father's side at many such functions.
Still, Quin kept one eye on Petra. Quin was hopeless at small talk. Her conversation tended to be either communication of data or direct orders. She noticed that a number of the men on the ship were already trailing after Petra and doing their best to be charming.
The lights were dimmed and dance music played on a CD. Several couples were dancing. In a few minutes, Quin saw Petra on the small dance floor in some jerk's arms. She ground her teeth in frustration. I should be the one dancing with Petra. Life sucks. She forced herself to focus on what the captain was saying.
Some time later, Quin looked up to see that Petra was gone. Her heart twisted into a jealous knot, and she excused herself abruptly from the captain to go in search of her. Petra wasn't in their cabin. Quin fought a battle with herself over whether she should go on deck and run the chance of interrupting a budding shipboard romance, or stay in their cabin and mind her own business.
The battle lasted all of two seconds and then she was out the door and down the hall heading to the deck. Several couples leaned over the rail, watching the setting sun kiss the golden river. Petra was nowhere in sight. Worried and jealous as hell, Quin made her way to the stern. She found Petra there, standing alone, watching the wake of the big ship as it plowed down the river. Relief swept over Quin and she walked up to Petra.
"I wanted to dance with you all evening," she said and then held out her hand. "May I have the last dance?"
Petra looked up in surprise and then smiled. She moved into Quin's arms and there, in their private world at the stern of the ship, they danced close together to the soft music that floated from the dance floor below. They moved well together, fit well together, and at the end of the song, neither wanted to pull away.
"Thanks for the dance," Quin said awkwardly, doing her best to sound casual even though she felt anything but. She had made a promise to Petra, and although she might tease, she would not cross the line again. "I'll see you downstairs.
"Okay," Petra said. "I'll see you in a bit."
Quin beat a quick retreat before she said or did anything that would cost her job for sure. Maybe sleeping sitting up on the couch wasn't a bad idea after all.
Quin showered and reluctantly slipped into silk pyjamas. She preferred to sleep naked. She tuned down the bed and climbed in, making sure she stayed well over to one side. For a bit, she read a book. Then she decided that it wouldn't be too subtle to be up waiting for Petra to return. She turned off her light and willed herself to sleep. When this failed, she lay on her back and stared at the shadows on the ceiling and wondered what it would be like to be in love.
Petra came in much later and quietly got ready for bed in the dark. Quin pretended to be asleep. Her eyes closed, she listened to every sound that Petra made as she slipped from her clothes, washed, and crawled into bed beside her. Inwardly, Quin sighed with relief. Now things felt right and she was able to drift off to sleep.
After Quin had left, Petra went back to staring out at the water. See, that's what I mean, Val. She has a way about her. I don't know. I'm really confused. I know you always said that if anything happened to you I shouldn 't give up on love, but you were my partner, Val. You. No one else.
She thought of a day long ago. They had taken a vow of commitment to each other and had then taken their car and driven out east for a holiday. It had been wonderful. Just her and Val, having adventures and delighting in the heady days of early love. That feeling had never ended in the years they'd been together. It
was like that with Val. Val was eternally young, impish, and full of life.
They had stood on the stern of the ferry on their way to Prince Edward Island, long before the bridge had been built, and held each other close. On the deck below, they saw a retired couple they'd met coming aboard walking and holding hands. The couple was newly married, both having lost their lifelong partners. "I can't imagine wanting another," Petra had said.
"Nor can I," Val had answered, kissing her cheek. "But I think what they have is good. I think there are many different loves, and if one is taken away, in time, a person could find another. It wouldn't be a replacement. It could never be the same. It would just be a different love, and in its own way, just as deep. They look happy to me, anyway."
Petra stood on the deck in the dark and let the tears run down her face, aching for the one she loved, missing her with every ounce of her being. You never stop mourning. You only learn to live with the emptiness.
Quin seemed asleep when Petra finally returned to their room. Quietly, she got ready for bed and slipped in beside the still form. Sleep did not come easily.
Petra woke the next morning to find that Quin had once again gotten up early. She washed and dressed and hurried down to the breakfast room. She found Quin sitting by herself, drinking her coffee and looking out at the river. When Petra joined her, she smiled.
"We'll dock at Fengdu soon. It's one of the cities scheduled for demolition," Quin said.
"What?" Petra looked up from her breakfast.
"Five major cities will have to be leveled because they'll be below water level after the dam is built. They have to be flattened because they'd be a navigation hazard."
"I understand that, but five cities? I had no idea the dam would affect that many people." Petra put down her coffee.
"About one-and-a-half-million people will be displaced," Quin said, as if this was not of any great concern. Petra was about to question Quin's attitude when she went on. "It's ironic. High above the city of Fengdu is a famous Buddhist temple. Fengdu is called the City of Ghosts because the temple is dedicated to the Buddhist God of the Dead. It will be the only structure that will remain above
water level. The living will be gone, and the dead will live on. That's the bell telling us they're ready for us to disembark. Are you finished?"
"Yes." Petra pushed back her chair. Quin's casual remarks over breakfast had given her a lot to think about.
They walked the gamut of makeshift gangways to the shore and then ran another of street vendors as they climbed the stone stairs up the bank to road level. There, several rickety buses provided transportation to the Temple of the Dead. They boarded with the others, and the bus driver took off along the winding road into town, giving a running commentary the whole way in what he thought was English.
Quin bought them tickets to the grounds and meditation gardens of the Buddhist temple while Petra looked straight up to the ancient temple at the top of the peak. "There are 900 steps to the top," Quin said as she came up behind Petra.
Petra smiled weakly. "Let's see, that's about... fifty floors."
"We could take the ski lift up the first eight hundred."
Petra pointed at Quin. "Sounds like a plan." Together they waited in line and then slipped back onto the chairlift seat to ride up over the wild tangle of gardens below. To the one side, lush tropical gardens clung to the side of the peak, dotted here and there with the ornate, colourful ceramic tile roofs of pagodas. To the other, the ground dropped away, and far below, they could see the city of Fengdu, and beyond it, the yellow Yangtze River. From this height, the huge cruise ship looked like a toy.
Quin wrapped her arm around Petra's shoulder and leaned across her to point to the construction high on the opposite side of the bay from the city of Fengdu. "That's the new city," she said. "The people are slowly being moved to that area in preparation for the water flooding this area."
"How do they feel about that?" Petra asked, looking down on the old city that would soon be a thing of folk tales, flattened and nearly forgotten beneath the muddy waters of the reservoir.
Quin lifted her arm from Petra's shoulder in preparation for getting off the chair lift. "Some think it's a good idea. Others are upset."
They came off the chairlift to a lookout where they could see for miles down the river. Behind them, a covered walk ran around three sides of a garden, allowing the monks and faithful a place to
contemplate and stroll, even on rainy days. Petra took some pictures and then they climbed the first of the hundred remaining steps.
"There are trials that you will have to pass," Quin explained as they walked up a steep grade lined with hideous and gaudily painted sculptured creatures from hell that were twice life-size. "It's the God of the Dead in Buddhism that judges your heart, just as in Christianity, St. Peter guards the gate to heaven. Before communism, the faithful would come here to be tested to see if they were worthy. We'll see how you do."
"And you!" Petra challenged, and then asked, "The people no longer believe, then?"
"Oh, sure, many do. Although officially, communism opposes religion, the majority of the people just quietly went on with their beliefs. Today, many are still faithful, but perhaps not as trusting as in the past. The young tend not to have a religion, while the older people still cling to their faith."
They took a set of stairs that wound its way between a number of pagodas and then came to a courtyard where a knot of tourists stood around the edge of a small, roofed enclosure. Within the enclosure, the stone floor rose in the centre to a peak about two feet high. A worn, shallow trough ran around this area, and sitting at the side was a flat-bottomed, round-sided metal object about the size and shape of half a beach ball. As they came up, a man was wrestling to lift the heavy metal object onto the top of the peak.
"This first trial is really for men only. The metal half ball weighs over two hundred pounds. A man must get the half circle to the top of the peak and balance it there. If he can, then he will be faithful to his wife in the afterlife. It's test of love and devotion," Quin said.
They watched while several men tried and failed. Then, to Petra's surprise, Quin moved into the area, squatted down and used her body weight to get the object on its round side. She rolled it around and around the slanted sides and on each orbit she lifted it a bit higher until she toppled it, and with a terrific effort steadied it on top of the peak. The crowd clapped and cheered, and Quin smugly let it go to thump to the bottom again. She walked over to Petra.
"I'm impressed. I wouldn't have picked you for the faithful type," Petra said, offering Quin her water bottle.
"That's because you don't know me," Quin said, bending her head back and taking a long swig from the bottle. Petra watched as Quin swallowed the water, strong neck muscles and broad shoulders
tanned golden and moist with humidity. She was both beautiful and powerful.
Together they trailed after the others, following another series of stone steps to the next courtyard. A small marble bridge arched over a stream that cut across the stone square. "This is a test to see if you are fit to go to heaven. Only those without the burden of guilt will be able to cross this bridge in only three steps."
"Hey, I've got shorter legs!" protested Petra, looking at the high arched bridge.
"Hmm, excuses already," Quin teased. "Sounds like a heavy conscience to me." Quin loped over the bridge easily in two strides and, with her arms crossed over her chest, turned to look at Petra.
Petra was not about to fail on this test, and with a bit of a run, she took three big strides and barely made it to the other side. "Conscience clear as the heavens," Petra said.
"We'll see. More tests await."
Once again they climbed through the temple grounds until they came to a wall with an open gate in it. A ridge about a foot and a half high ran from side to side across the doorway. Quin stopped to explain. "You've probably noticed on traditional doorways, there's always this ledge to step over. It's to keep out evil spirits. Evil spirits crawl on their bellies and can't get over the doorstep. This, too, is a test, and you must go first. Step over the ledge with the correct foot first. To enter the kingdom of heaven, a good person's actions would naturally be proper."
Petra thought about it: right foot first or left? It was a fifty-fifty gamble. But Petra was a sociologist and under stood human nature and culture. Leading with the right foot would put you off balance if you were a warrior, because most people are stronger on their right side, so a man would naturally lead with his left foot. A woman would show trust and vulnerability, though, in a traditional culture such as the Chinese embraced. Petra stepped over the ledge with her right foot first.
Quin clapped, stepping over after her with her right foot first. "That's it, right foot first for a woman, left for a man, although I have no idea why."
Petra crossed her arms and cocked her head on the side, mimicking Quin's actions of not long before. "That's because you're only an engineer, not a sociologist."
They eventually came to the courtyard in front of the temple itself. Twisted pines provided shade. One looked out, not down,
across the blue heavens at the ancient nation of China. The wind whispered softly and wind chimes filled the trees with soft music. It was a tranquil, soul-touching place. For a while, they stood there in silence and drank in the beauty.
The last challenge was at the entrance of the temple. It was a small, rounded stone, shiny with wear, that stood a few inches above the pavement. "You have to balance on one foot with your eyes closed for ten seconds," Quin explained. "It is to test if there is a balance of the yin-yang forces within you.
"Maybe you shouldn't try this one," Petra said, "what with your hot liver and all."
Quin stepped on the stone. She lifted her other foot and spread her arms to the sides. Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to relax and go perfectly still. After ten seconds, she opened her eyes and hopped off.
"Think you're good, don't you?" Petra placed her foot on the stone.
"Know it."
Petra, however, was not to be outdone. She had studied ballet into her twenties and had been pretty good. She used that skill to her advantage. She stood on the rock and curved her arms gracefully over her head before stretching her other leg up and closing her eyes. She stood perfectly and beautifully poised for ten seconds and then, going up on the ball of her foot, she turned slowly around before opening her eyes and stepping off.
The small crowd that had formed applauded loudly and Petra waved her thanks before turning to Quin.
"I see your soul is as beautiful as your form," Quin said quietly.
A blush rose up Petra's neck as she saw the look in Quin's eyes. "Shall we go in?" she asked. Quin, who had been staring at her, seemed to come awake. They set off towards the temple. Petra kept pace at Quin's side.
Inside the temple, more huge monster-like statues lined each side of a long hall. Each symbolically weighed one aspect of the soul: honesty, loyalty, generosity, and many more. At the end of the hall, they went up several steps to stand in front of the massive gold statue of the God of the Dead. Quin bought a handful of incense sticks to place in the burner in front of the deity; she offered some to Petra.
Petra took the sticks and imitated Quin's actions, lighting the sticks and placing them in the stand to burn and then standing with her hands in prayer before the idol. Protect the souls of my father, Val... And of Quin, because I care about her, she prayed and then followed Quin back out into the courtyard.
"Some Christians would say we prayed to a graven image. That's not true. Buddhists don't revere the statue, but the element of God that it represents. It's no different from the statues of the saints or of Christ that you see in European churches," Quin said. "It always amazes me that, in all faiths, people say they're seeking enlightenment and truth, but they refuse to consider any reality outside their own dogma. I'm glad you burned the incense."
"It's not my faith, but I see no reason why I can't use the opportunity to pray. If there is a God, I believe He must be the God of all of us, no matter what teachings and rituals we choose to follow to reach Him," Petra said, as she walked with Quin back down to the chairlift.
"I agree, but I'm afraid many would be angry and insulted by your viewpoint."
"Fanatical belief and bigotry are the reasons we still have wars," Petra said. They swung up into the lift and sat side by side as they returned to the gardens below.
Petra didn't sleep well that night. She was acutely aware of Quin beside her. She shouldn't be sharing a bed with Quin. Then again, they weren't doing anything, and it was silly and impractical not to share the bed. The contradictory thoughts whirled around her head. What really annoyed her was that it didn't seem to bother Quin at all. She'd come in late, washed and changed, and gone right to sleep.
Quin lay perfectly still, clinging to the edge of the bed. She was intensely aware of Petra tossing and turning behind her. She wanted desperately to roll over and pull Petra into her arms and make love to her. But a promise was a promise, and no matter how hard this was, she wasn't going to take advantage of the situation.
She thought about Petra standing on the peak looking out over China. Her hair flashed highlights of red in the sun and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She was a graceful package of strength and mischief, wrapped up in a well-toned and beautiful body. She was damn bright, too. Quin had learned that quickly enough when
she had gone through the division reports with her in Xian. It was such a shame Petra was so weighed down with grief. Petra rolled over again, bouncing the bed. Quin gritted her teeth in frustration and held on tight to her pillow. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 13
They woke the next morning and found themselves wrapped in each other's arms. Petra went to pull away. "Stay, please," Quin said softly.
"We shouldn't be doing this," Petra said, but she rested her head on Quin's shoulder and wrapped her arm around Quin's muscular frame.
"It feels good... right," Quin said.
"I love Val," Petra said out loud.
In a split second, Quin was up and out of the bed, quivering with anger. "God damn it, Petra! I don't want to be Val. And I don't want to be some damn substitute. I will not compete with a dead woman." Quin scooped up her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. When she came out, Petra tried to reason with her, but Quin simply left the suite.
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