The Imperial Alchemist Page 6

  Sarah mumbles, almost to herself, “Wang Jian would have found out about Qin’s death eventually, and he would probably have returned to China straight away.”

  “Not necessarily,” Georgia counters after a pause. “Remember that the general was a known supporter of Qin’s first son, Fusu, who was the rightful heir to the throne. But Li Si had conspired against Fusu, forcing him to commit suicide, and also had all of his supporters killed.”

  She pauses, reiterating the historical details in her head. The prime minister had wanted power for himself, and plotted an elaborate plan for Qin’s eighteenth son to be crowned instead as a puppet ruler. Revolts quickly erupted, however, and a scramble for power ensued. The empire Qin had worked so hard to amass began to crumble, and within four years, the puppet emperor was also dead.

  “So it’s likely that Wang Jian never returned to China if he found out what was going on,” Sarah hypothesises, “because he would have been hunted down and killed by Li Si’s men. This happened to the other generals who supported Fusu too. Wang Jian could possibly have stayed in Japan instead.”

  “Maybe.” Georgia chews on her lip. “I think the Hata family probably came to the same conclusion, and that’s why they think making the letter public would not be a good idea. It would fortify the theory that the Chinese colonized Japan.”

  “Then it’s also possible Wang Jian ended up sailing south with Hsu Fu to find this island.” Sarah pauses, then whispers, “Holy shit, do you think it was really Penglai Mountain? Do you think they found it?”

  “I don’t know.” Georgia exhales audibly, still chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t know what to think right now. All this stuff—it’s beyond absurd. I can’t wrap my head around it. From what I can tell, the scroll itself looks legitimate. And I really can’t imagine the Hata family making something like this up. But Penglai Mountain? An elixir? Really?” She rubs her forehead in frustration.

  Sarah lets out a wordless grunt, falling silent. After a long pause she finally says, “What does your gut tell you, Georgia?”

  She takes a deep breath. “My gut says that I’m interested,” she admits reluctantly. “It says that I’ve not been this interested in a long time.”

  “Well, there you go. You have to go with that.” Sarah makes her customary conclusion on Georgia’s behalf. “I know you’ll find something from this. And it’s probably come at the right time to keep your mind off things, too.”

  She remains quiet, knowing that Sarah is referring to her impending divorce. It’s been over five years since Jacqui’s death, and after two years of separation, she and Lucas are finalising their divorce next week.

  “You know what?” Sarah pipes up, interrupting her thoughts. “Even if there wasn’t an island and Hsu Fu was lying through his teeth, this letter alone may be one of your most significant findings! It proves Hsu Fu ended up in Japan. Not that the Hata family will ever let you make it public or allow an authentication process, but anyway. It’s still a bloody amazing discovery.”

  They say their goodbyes and Georgia hangs up, hopping off the bed and heading straight into the bathroom. Her morning breath is starting to seriously bother her. She looks at her image in the mirror and a corner of her mouth slants down with dismay. Dark circles have begun to form under her eyes from the restless nights of late. She realises her age is beginning to show in the grey springing up around her temples.

  Georgia shakes her head, reminding herself that this is a good thing. All her life, people have been dismissive of her capabilities because of how young she looks.

  As she brushes her teeth, her attention drifts to the TV that’s still on in the background. CNN news is on, and she pays half-attention to the voice of the news reporter as he announces various world happenings with solemnity.

  “Tensions rise, as China’s coastguard ships confronted Japanese vessels last week in the waters surrounding the East China Sea islands that are claimed by both sides…”

  She frowns, walking back into the bedroom with the toothbrush in her mouth.

  “…Japan’s defence minister recommended substantial upgrades in its military power in defence of what it deems to be its territory.”

  She stares at the TV, her frown deepening. Her attention is not focused on the naval ships traversing the waters in a military standoff, but on the satellite image of the three little islands in the top right corner of the screen. The camera angle shifts to view one of the islands from sea level, and her mouth gapes open, her toothbrush tumbling to the floor.

  The words of Wang Jian’s letter resurface with clarity in her mind:

  …It has two peaks on either side of the isle, and flatness in between, as if the gods had gouged a hollow in the mountain… The larger peak slopes upwards from the west, with a sharp and crescent descent from the apex to the east.

  8

  “The Senkaku Islands?” Hank exclaims, barely able to contain his excitement.

  Georgia juggles the phone between her shoulder and ear as she surveys the photographs of the scroll spread out over her hotel bed.

  “Yeah,” she confirms. “The drawings and the description in Wang’s Jian’s letter match these islands exactly. I thought the peculiar shape of the island looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it before. In actual fact, the Senkaku have been all over the world news recently. There’s been some dispute between China, Japan, and Taiwan about the sovereignty over the territory.”

  “This is remarkable, Georgia,” Hank says. “Mr. Lambert will be pleased. He’s right—you’re the perfect person for the job.”

  “It was a stroke of luck,” she says. In her experience, luck usually has a lot to do with many archaeological findings. “As far as I can tell, the islands have been uninhabited since the fifteenth century, which was the date of the earliest records I can find. It might be worthwhile to visit the island that Hsu Fu referred to as Penglai. It’s the biggest of the three, now known as Uotsuri Island.”

  “Great,” he agrees, “I’ll organise your trip straight away.”

  She frowns, adding, “I’m not sure how we can possibly access it, Hank. Especially with all the political tension going on in the area at the moment.”

  “Leave that to me,” Hank says, and Georgia can tell in his voice that he’s confident it won’t be an insurmountable obstacle. “You’ll hear from me later today. Just be packed and ready to leave for Okinawa.”

  His personal phone vibrates silently on the table beside him. Casting a quick glance at the caller ID, Mark Lambert pushes his chair back to stand.

  “Ladies, gentlemen,” he addresses the board of directors sitting at the table. “My apologies, but I must take this. I believe we’ve covered everything we need to today. Shall we continue in the morning?”

  Murmurs and nods of general agreement are exchanged around the room, and Mark shakes several hands as participants of the meeting file out of the conference room.

  He picks up his phone as soon as he is alone. “Hank—talk to me.”

  “I’ve sent a draft of the new security plan to you, sir. Please have a look and we can implement it as soon as you approve it.” Hank’s smooth voice travels to his ears. “I have all the men in position, ready to be deployed.”

  Mark grunts his approval, bringing up the documents on his laptop.

  “And, sir,” Hank continues, “there is good news.”

  Mark’s grip tightens on the phone.

  “Professor Lee believes she’s found the location of the islands in the East China Sea. I’m organising her trip to Senkaku now.” Hank adds, “But to gain access, you may need to give the Japanese defence minister a call.”

  “Inada San?” He glances at his watch, doing a quick mental calculation of the current time in Tokyo. “That’s fine. I’ll give her a call in the morning. Keep me informed.”

  Hanging up the phone, Mark leans back in his chair, taking a deep breath. He closes his eyes, the fatigue of the day washing over him.

  He kn
ew if he dangled the bait before the professor, she would find the idea impossible to resist. Georgia is a smart woman, proud of her own intellect. But humans are fundamentally emotional beings, and everyone has a sensitive point. Mark learnt very early on in his career that it’s all about getting that emotional leverage: once you find it, and apply pressure to the right spot, you’ll just about get whatever you want out of anyone you meet.

  He stands and walks over to the floor-to-ceiling window, absorbing the breathtaking view overlooking the Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge. The glow of the full moon reflects upon the dark water, paving a silvery path to the horizon. Colourful lights have been projected onto the façade of the Opera House, making a psychedelic display of the Australian icon.

  He smiles.

  Smart girl, Georgia. You’re progressing a lot quicker than I’d thought.

  9

  Three weeks later, Senkaku Islands

  The Ryukyu archipelago is a chain of volcanic islands that stretches over a thousand kilometres between Kyushu, Japan, and Taiwan. Together, the isles make up Japan’s Okinawa Prefecture.

  In Wang Jian’s letter, Hsu Fu claimed there were fire-spewing sea monsters in this region, and it would have been true. It is likely the islands would have experienced sporadic eruptions back then, oozing out smoke, ash, and molten lava. Georgia can imagine how frightening a journey it would have been, sailing close to the islands and witnessing such events. It would not have been good for the crew’s morale.

  She wonders if Wang Jian did indeed traverse these waters himself. The stretch of archipelago would have made easier sailing than being in open waters, as he could have travelled from one island to another whilst searching for Penglai Mountain. But she highly doubts he made it as far as the Senkaku Islands, which lay over 1,500 kilometres from Shingu.

  She settles into a fold-out chair before her tent, studying a detailed map of the area. This uninhabited group of small rocks and isles has been the heart of an ongoing political dispute between China and Japan for many years. Despite their apparent insignificance, they in fact offer rich fishing grounds, and are also close to important shipping lanes and potential oil and gas reserves.

  Georgia has been on the Senkaku Islands for almost two weeks now, spending most of her time on the larger isle, Uotsuri Island, which the letter claimed to be Penglai Mountain. The island is only 4.3 square kilometres in size, and completely deserted, save for a few Japanese coast guards who have set up camp in the area in an attempt to ward off any potential Chinese soldiers staking their claim.

  It is evident Lambert’s influence stretches further than she previously thought possible. Within a few days of her phone conversation with Hank, he somehow managed to organise her flight to Ishigaki Airport in Okinawa, where she boarded a Japanese coast guard ship bound for the Senkaku Islands. Hank even sent an assistant to help her set up camp on the island, a stocky, solidly built Japanese man named Tanaka, who has limited English skills but excellent navigational and camping experience.

  Tanaka-san came well-equipped with trekking and camping equipment, satellite phones, archaeological tools that Georgia required, and food to last them for two weeks—which was the length of time Hank could negotiate for Georgia’s visit. Tanaka-san has even brought a remote-controlled drone for aerial surveys, as well as a GPR, Ground Penetrating Radar, to image the subsurface of the terrain. One thing’s for certain: Lambert has ensured that Georgia has every resource at her fingertips. Without even requesting it, she has been sent every available NASA satellite and laser survey image of the islands, taken with every possible filter for her analysis.

  She could certainly get used to this.

  With Tanaka-san’s help, Georgia explored the whole of Uotsuri Island in detail, no small feat given its mountainous terrain, its highest elevation being 383 metres. Mostly they searched for caves, as these would have been the easiest places to live in this hostile landscape. They even visited the two smaller islets to the east, Kita and Minami, looking for the giant caverns Wang Jian wrote about in his letter.

  And yet, they have come up with nothing that suggests previous habitation, or anything worthy of further investigation.

  She’s not sure these islands are what Hsu Fu claimed them to be. In truth, her instincts nagged at her even before she got on the coast guard ship. The islands are small, isolated, and too exposed. They are far away from any mainland, and the rocky terrain also makes it difficult for growing or sourcing food. These are amongst some of the very good reasons why they have not hosted any inhabitants in the last few hundred years.

  The chance of finding any evidence of Hsu Fu’s visit were minute in the first place. What’s more, there is no chance of her performing any proper excavations due to the political standoff over the islands. Still, she cannot help but feel extremely disappointed.

  And, a little foolish for being swept up by her excitement in the first place.

  Why has she let herself believe things would be otherwise? All of the information she’s been presented with is not backed up by any other historical evidence. Instead, it reeks of superstition and mythology, two things that are always dangerous and misleading in her line of work. She feels irritated with herself. Her inner sceptic seemed to have gone into hibernation for the past few weeks.

  The man with the green eyes? She scoffs, lambasting herself for having fallen for it.

  Her time on Uotsuri Island is now coming to an end, and she is due to return to Okinawa tomorrow. Lambert won’t be happy that she came back empty-handed, but Georgia has certainly fulfilled her end of the bargain. Nevertheless, she’s promised Hank she will resume her research in Sydney with the data collected over the past two weeks.

  She highly doubts that she will uncover anything new.

  As Georgia moves to fold up her maps for the last time, she catches a glimpse of a much larger island at the lower corner of the map.

  Taiwan.

  She cannot help but notice how close she is to her grandmother’s home country right now. The thought of her amah tugs gently at her heart.

  After living in Australia with her family for over thirty years, Amah decided to move back to Taiwan. She has always felt more at home there, and what’s more, her English skills have deteriorated in her old age. Understandably, Amah is much more comfortable where she can communicate effectively with the people around her. Despite being ninety-two, the woman oozes vitality, and still maintains a sense of passionate curiosity about life. Georgia smiles as she thinks of her grandmother’s busy social schedule, filled with dance classes, book clubs, and walking expeditions in the mountains of Taiwan. She also volunteers as a museum guide at the National Palace Museum twice a week.

  Georgia hopes to be even half as energetic when she reaches Amah’s age.

  She sighs as she puts her papers away, admitting defeat. The sun is due to set soon and Tanaka-san will be back with their firewood shortly. Georgia stares at the last of the ready-meals on the fold-up table, feeling no appetite for the tasteless mush in the vacuum-packed bags. After two weeks of camping, she is sure looking forward to a shower and some fresh food.

  She leans back into her canvas chair, staring out at the glistening waters of the East China Sea. This is her favourite time of the day on the island, with the dusk breeze soothing the blistering heat from the day. At this angle, the light reflects off the surface of the water in such a way that makes it a vast ocean of shimmering liquid metal. A scarlet sun hovers above the distant horizon, tinting thin strips of clouds every shade of orange and red. Georgia wonders if this means that it is going to be sunny tomorrow, or if it is an omen of rain ahead.

  She decides that upon landing in Okinawa tomorrow she will organise a quick trip to visit her grandmother before flying back to Australia. It is Amah’s birthday in a few days, and Georgia’s also not been to Taipei for over three years. Who knows, maybe Amah’s colleagues at the National Palace Museum can shed some light on some of Georgia’s findings so far.

>   And, truth be told, she loathes the thought of returning to Sydney so soon, where her divorce papers will be awaiting her signature.

  10

  Mark Lambert exits his Sydney office building, strolling over to the curb where his driver is waiting patiently by the silver Rolls Royce. He slides through the door that Paul holds open for him, settling into the soft leather seat.

  “Where to, sir?” Paul asks, buckling himself in the driver’s seat.

  “Let’s go home.” Mark exhales, leaning back on his headrest and closing his eyes.

  “Yes, sir.” Paul pulls the vehicle onto the road.

  It’s been a long week of merger negotiations, and even though it is still early in the afternoon, Mark is exhausted. His energy level is not what it used to be. Even though he has always been a fit and active person keen on regular outdoor adventures, lately he is finding that all of his exploits have been wearing on him. And now, he feels on the verge of collapse after a round of vigorous business negotiations, a task he once found easy to tackle.

  This simply will not do.

  He looks out the window and sees they are now crossing the Sydney Harbour Bridge, an iconic image of the city and one of the most photographed landmarks in Australia. At 134 metres, it is the tallest steel arch bridge in the world, and it was also the widest long-span bridge until 2012. He remembers being the first to climb it back in 1996. Getting permission from the government was a long and tedious process. The authorities were particularly twitchy about safety and weary of thrill-seekers who had illegally attempted the climb and invariably plunged to their deaths. He had to pull a lot of strings, pay an exorbitant amount of money, and take out a ridiculous insurance policy in order to gain access.