to outline the latest developments in the ENDS crisis, and by the end of a further half-hour, he also knew that he was in this crisis totally, right up to his neck in it, whether he liked it or not. To go back to Sussex now would be impossible, for until this terrible problem was solved, his own work as a research medic was of little purpose. Working with Professor Dorman, he had thought he knew all the implications of the ENDS crisis. But now he was beginning to understand the extent of these mysterious deaths and the degree of cover-up of the actual numbers: what the public relations boys and girls call ‘stamping on the headlines’ and ‘crisis management’, euphemisms for letting the public only read, see and hear what was good for them. And that was decided in Washington, London, and other capitals.
When the Minister stopped talking, Mike was a changed man. He would no longer be able to get on with his work as a free human being. He would not only have to concentrate on trying to resolve the ENDS crisis, he would also have to concentrate on staying alive. And what about Eleanor Johnson? He didn’t want to drag her into all this. Unless, perhaps, she was in it already? All his priorities had changed, but he was determined to get them right.
In China the anti-communist wave which had begun to flow across the country in the late 1980s, bringing hope to the students and then the peasants, had turned out to be a sham. After that, opposition parties had to stay underground, watched closely by the government. They were therefore largely ineffective. But the need for Western modernisation, equipment, help and advice gave the outward impression of reform, and cultural exchanges between China and the West had greatly increased. Chinatowns in America, Europe and Africa had expanded. Oriental medicine was more widely practised, with many Westerners turning to acupuncture as the best medical method of preventing as well as curing disease. Chinese propaganda was increasing an awareness of China and its history all over the West. Even the numbers of Chinese restaurants had grown in Western cities.
There was a large Chinese fishing junk, recently converted to a restaurant, that had a permanent anchorage near St Christopher’s Dock in London. It was to this restaurant that Eleanor and her American-Chinese companion were making their way after leaving Les Amis du Vin together. Eleanor felt more relaxed, interested to know that Dr Ah-Ming had attended the same university in Beijing as herself. She soon learned that he had left America to practise medicine in Hong Kong. She was fascinated by his description of the New China, and wanted to know more, much more, about whathe called ‘the progressive and democratic China’. He told her that he divided his time equally between Beijing, Hong Kong and London.
Her tiredness had vanished, aided by the treatment of acupuncture she had given herself. From what he had said to her she had begun to understand why he had wanted to see her, to learn more about her work, but she still felt on edge, and did not understand why he wanted to see her so urgently, and so mysteriously; why he had spoken threateningly.
As she walked down the gangway at St Christopher’s Dock, she remembered the fishing junks of China. She had often visited them with her Chinese student friends. She remembered the discomfort; there was hardly any living space aboard. The entire area below was always the fish hold. The crew slept on a shelf in a row on the deck; they lived and ate on the deck.
As soon as she entered the junk with Dr Ah-Ming, all traces of the interior of a real junk disappeared. They could have been walking into a swanky restaurant in Mayfair. It was sumptuously furnished with modern Western-style tables and chairs, and it was crowded with Western faces. She turned to Ah-Ming.
He smiled and said, ‘Not to worry. I can guarantee that the Peking Duck will be as it should be.’
‘But it’s packed.
When the Minister stopped talking, Mike was a changed man. He would no longer be able to get on with his work as a free human being. He would not only have to concentrate on trying to resolve the ENDS crisis, he would also have to concentrate on staying alive. And what about Eleanor Johnson? He didn’t want to drag her into all this. Unless, perhaps, she was in it already? All his priorities had changed, but he was determined to get them right.
In China the anti-communist wave which had begun to flow across the country in the late 1980s, bringing hope to the students and then the peasants, had turned out to be a sham. After that, opposition parties had to stay underground, watched closely by the government. They were therefore largely ineffective. But the need for Western modernisation, equipment, help and advice gave the outward impression of reform, and cultural exchanges between China and the West had greatly increased. Chinatowns in America, Europe and Africa had expanded. Oriental medicine was more widely practised, with many Westerners turning to acupuncture as the best medical method of preventing as well as curing disease. Chinese propaganda was increasing an awareness of China and its history all over the West. Even the numbers of Chinese restaurants had grown in Western cities.
There was a large Chinese fishing junk, recently converted to a restaurant, that had a permanent anchorage near St Christopher’s Dock in London. It was to this restaurant that Eleanor and her American-Chinese companion were making their way after leaving Les Amis du Vin together. Eleanor felt more relaxed, interested to know that Dr Ah-Ming had attended the same university in Beijing as herself. She soon learned that he had left America to practise medicine in Hong Kong. She was fascinated by his description of the New China, and wanted to know more, much more, about whathe called ‘the progressive and democratic China’. He told her that he divided his time equally between Beijing, Hong Kong and London.
Her tiredness had vanished, aided by the treatment of acupuncture she had given herself. From what he had said to her she had begun to understand why he had wanted to see her, to learn more about her work, but she still felt on edge, and did not understand why he wanted to see her so urgently, and so mysteriously; why he had spoken threateningly.
As she walked down the gangway at St Christopher’s Dock, she remembered the fishing junks of China. She had often visited them with her Chinese student friends. She remembered the discomfort; there was hardly any living space aboard. The entire area below was always the fish hold. The crew slept on a shelf in a row on the deck; they lived and ate on the deck.
As soon as she entered the junk with Dr Ah-Ming, all traces of the interior of a real junk disappeared. They could have been walking into a swanky restaurant in Mayfair. It was sumptuously furnished with modern Western-style tables and chairs, and it was crowded with Western faces. She turned to Ah-Ming.
He smiled and said, ‘Not to worry. I can guarantee that the Peking Duck will be as it should be.’
‘But it’s packed.
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