The estate looms ahead, a monument to the wealth and power of the Chinese elite resting on the clifftop of the narrow canyon. There’s nothing else nearby. The nearest man-made structure is the dam a few klicks up the river. We pull up to the small dock, moor our catamaran, and then chain the rest behind it since there’s no room for them. An impeccably dressed older gentleman steps from an open elevator built into the cliffside. I don’t have him indexed, so I’m not sure if he’s staff here or a VIP I didn’t expect. He walks our way and waves in greeting.
“Hello, I’m Noah Kimball,” I say, extending a hand to shake. According to my instruction sheet from the PR team, this is my best bet for introducing myself when I’m not sure who I’m talking to.
“Indeed you are. And you may call me Mr. Wu,” he says in perfect English. His grip is firm but friendly. “Welcome. Please, come this way. Leave anything you want in your rooms on the dock and our staff will bring it up.”
We all grab and stack a few things, then head up the stairs. Our guides wave goodbye. Translators are provided for us here, so they’ll wait in the boats until we’re done.
The elevator is huge, easily big enough for our whole group. As it ascends, a gorgeous view of the river and the surrounding forested countryside expands below us, with nothing between us and the open air but a short railing. I want to talk to this Mr. Wu, hopefully figure out who he is and what his role is here, but he fills the whole time of the elevator ride greeting each of my siblings by name and complimenting each of them on their roles in the various PR events we’ve done on this trip. He even knows Keeya and Lucie’s names, and they weren’t listed on any of our official press documents. Whoever this guy is, he’s done his homework.
I do a quick sweep of the exterior of the estate with my cloud. The place is huge. Palatial. There doesn’t seem to be any connecting road leading to it, just a helicopter pad on the side opposite from the cliff. According to the satellite maps in my index, there aren’t any other docks along the river between the last dam and the next. Half a dozen guards armed with assault rifles patrol the perimeter beyond the helipad. This place is about as secure and isolated as anywhere could possibly be.
At the top of the lift, a woman greets us at a pair of big double doors. My facial recognition kicks in and tells me that she is Yang Song, Lin’s translator, bodyguard, and lately personal trainer. She welcomes us with all the warmth of an iceberg pretending to be a sunny beach. I think she’s trying to be friendly, but she doesn’t seem to have it in her to make it work. Pleasantries exchanged, she and Mr. Wu lead us into an entry area that makes the huge foyer in the Residence back home feel like a broom closet.
And there she is.
Lin stands there looking stunning in a red dress very much like the one that she wore to the dinner back at the Residence. The dress she wore when she first kissed me on the cheek. A red silk wrap covers her short hair. She’s stunning. So much more beautiful than the pictures in my index. I snap a dozen new images with my bots and stash them in my electronic brain.
I’m so enthralled with her I can barely register that there are other people in the room that I need to acknowledge. Like her broad-shouldered, uniformed father standing next to her.
“General Liu,” I say, as I shake his strong hand. I lower my eyes respectfully like my index reminds me to do. “It is good to finally meet you. We appreciate all your help in setting up this visit to your country.”
“It was my pleasure,” he says in English. He speaks well, though with a strong accent. “Your family has given me a very precious gift. I hope that our future exchanges can continue to be as beneficial for both of our families.”
Mr. Wu starts introducing him down the line of my family. Finally, I get a chance to greet Lin. One look at her eyes and smile and everything else in the room disappears again.
“Ms. Liu, you look very well,” I say, barely keeping up the pretense of formality thanks to the reminders floating in my vision. In front of her father and Yang Song, we are just pen-pals. I take her hand in mine and try not to let the electricity I feel show on my face.
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Her expression doesn’t betray any feelings she might have until the tinies of smiles escapes her mask of perfect seriousness. She lets go of my hand and follows her father down the line, greeting the rest of the group. Her nearly perfect English is even more impressive in person. She could pass as born in America if she wanted to. I try very hard to keep my gaze respectfully on her face, but in that dress it’s so hard not to run my eyes up and down her body.
“You must be tired from your journey,” Mr. Wu says. “My staff will show you to your rooms.”
His staff? He must be the mysterious benefactor hosting us. This luxurious clifftop palace is his vacation home. I need to get Alan to research this guy the next chance I get.
As one of the dozen silent servants leads me to my room, I get a chance to feel the inside of this place out. My mapping algorithm quickly identifies dozens of bedrooms, each with a private bathroom, and a couple of very large spaces that could comfortably fit a large hotel ballroom inside. Another half-dozen guards patrol the hallways, these ones armed with more discrete pistols. I notice that there is a section on the second floor that I’m getting nothing from. The bots I send that way disconnect with a pinprick. Must be electromagnetically shielded or something. I’ll have to check on that later when I have time and attention to spare.
The whole place is opulently furnished. As I reach my bedroom, I get a look with my human eyes and see that it’s better equipped than the fancy suites at any of the luxury hotels this trip. The bathroom is clearly designed with Westerners in mind, since it has the standard toilet I’m used to instead of the squat toilet that I worried I might need to learn to use. I feel Lin coming down the hallway in this direction. She taps lightly at my door and I swing it open with my bots.
“Noah, my friend,” she says, her voice carefully casual as she steps into the room. “I’m glad you have come here. This is a safe place.”
Her pulse is racing, her clear excitement not at all matching her voice. Something is definitely funny with that wording. I reach out more carefully with my bots and feel a hidden camera in the wall opposite the door. From its vantage point and the curvature of its lens, I think it can see most of the room.
A safe place. Security. Right.
“Thank you, Ms. Liu,” I say in an equally casual tone, since we’re certainly being recorded. “It was so kind of you and your father to invite us here. We are looking forward to our stay in your country.”
She takes my hand and leads me to the corner of the room just next to the camera. Her biometrics are screaming attraction. She pushes me against the wall and pulls my head down for a long, silent kiss.
“Please, tell me more about your journey here,” she says conversationally as the kiss ends. “I have so enjoyed getting your letters.”
“Well, we started in Vietnam in Ho Chi Minh City,” I say as she digs her nails into my back and begins quietly kissing my neck. “The city was very nice to visit, there were a lot of interesting sights to see.”
Oh wow, that feels good. I talk for a couple of minutes as she continues, then ask her about her trip here.
“We took a flight from Beijing. Traffic was unusually heavy along the route to the airport because of some construction,” she begins. She tells me every tiny detail of the drive, flight, and helicopter ride she took to get here. Careful to be silent and to stay out of the camera’s field of vision, I press her against the wall and kiss her anywhere that won’t leave her clothes and makeup out of order or interrupt her talking for the bugs.
It’s not the reunion I would have planned, but it’s amazing in a sneaky, sexy way. Lin is just starting to ask her next question so we can trade off talking when I feel Yang Song coming down the hallway. I disengage and point to the door as I start to talk about our visit to Phnom Penh. She gets the hint and by the time her bodyguard arrives, we are very properly seated across the room from each other, talking in a very respectable way about the importance of the Lancang River—using the Chinese name for the Mekong—to the people of Cambodia.
I use my bots to remove the traces of lipstick from my mouth, face, and neck just in time for Yang Song to open the door without knocking. She looks relieved to see Lin. She says something to her quickly in Chinese.
“I’ve just been catching up with my pen pal,” Lin says innocently in English. “But I would be happy to help you finish the arrangements for dinner.” She turns her face back to me. “Noah, it was good to speak with you again. I will see you tonight.”
“I’ll see you then,” I say. “It was good to catch up with you, too. Please, thank your father again for helping with the arrangements for our trip, and Mr. Wu for hosting us here.”