that.”
He took Harry’s hand again. “Nothing’s happening yet and there is nothing substantial you don’t know. One last thing; this is absolutely top secret. Record nothing that can be hacked and say nothing to anyone. Don’t even dream about it. OK? Security is paramount.”
Harry felt disappointed that Tanner thought he needed reminding, and registered a thought that maybe he was not totally trusted.
Tanner held the door open as he shook his hand again.
“I’ll call your secretary when we have a meeting date and don’t worry, it’s early days. Bye Harry.”
The door closed on Tanner rejoining Devaurno. So there was more to discuss. He re-ran Tanner’s words, ‘There’s nothing substantial you don’t know’, and had that sinking feeling.
‘Bullshit!’ he thought. ‘There were secrets.’ He looked back at the closed door. “Fuck!”
6. BEIJING
Harry pulled the folder from his brief case and began to prepare for the Ho meeting. Dismay turned to anger. He dropped the papers in disgust and called the steward over.
“Bourbon on ice, please.” The ‘please’ was so strained that the steward paused.
“Is everything OK, Mr Fromm?”
Reaching to retrieve the papers, he became aware of the steward’s discomfort. “Sorry! No, everything’s fine. Make it a double.”
The Steward looked to Ling Mae, sitting beside Harry, who was also surprised by his uncharacteristic anger. She shrugged to the steward and touched Harry’s arm as soon as the steward had turned away.
“What’s up, Harry,” she asked, eyes lifting to his. “That’s not like you!”
“It’s just this nonsense.” He pointed to the page. “They want me to ‘express our dismay at the failure of the Chinese Government to allow their people basic human rights’ and so on. They’re on again about one-child families. Shit!”
“Why?” she asked. “I would’ve thought they’d be pleased their one and a half billion wasn’t about to become two billion, wouldn’t you? And they have eased up a bit.”
“I thought so, and what’s this about bigamy?” He pointed to the heading. ‘Chinese legislate for bigamy’. “I must’ve been asleep for this one. How long since you’ve been back?”
He closed the folder.
Ling Mae, his Australian-born ethnic Chinese interpreter and assistant, turned the corner of the page and put her novel down.
“Mum went a year ago to visit her mother. Gran went back to live after Mao died. It wasn’t my first visit, and I was there for the Olympics. Why?”
“What’s this about officially sanctioned bigamy?”
“Well, it’s a long story, but I guess if you’re about to bring it up with Ho you’d better know.” She paused but he seemed preoccupied. “Well, do you?”
“What?”
“Want to know. Do you want to know?”
“I think whatever they decide for their own people,” he mused. “If it’s not oppressive, it’s OK with me.” He turned to her again. “But bigamy! That’s a bit rich, isn’t it?”
“No,” she answered. “Remember the prostitutes we saw last trip?”
He nodded.
“OK, so why do you think that was?” She turned to face him fully. “Now, just imagine a whole decade of boy babies outnumbering girls by two to one. Then fast forward twenty years and you have maybe twenty million randy young men who won’t find wives. What do they do? They go to prostitutes.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “You can’t but notice the prostitutes.” He looked out the porthole. “But I guess that’s a good thing in a way…practical, sensible.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” she laughed. “Last time I was there I was propositioned by three men together!”
“You mean, a foursome?”
“Yes, a foursome, but a foursome as in a multiple-husband marriage.” She was blushing under her Eurasian tan. “They all wanted to marry me together.”
“Three men, one wife? So that’s what this is all about. Is it legal?”
“It is now,” she replied. “The government had little choice but to ratify the one wife, two or three husband combination when they saw how well it worked. It was happening anyway and they saw it as a better situation than uncontrolled prostitution. I do too.”
He just stared at her. He was processing the idea, imagining what that would be like for women. Was it limited prostitution, or could it offer a deeper commitment? He wondered.
Throughout history there have been cultures that favoured multiple wives in marriage but rarely has there been a stable culture of polyandry.
“You can see the advantages,” she offered. “Two or three men working; she can work herself, or stay home and attend to one or two children. She has choice.”
“She can marry her husbands and sleep with the best man!” He laughed.
“Harry Fromm!” she giggled. “That’s dirty! Just think. If it was acceptable to have sex workers servicing, say, twenty, fifty or more men, it’s safer for the women and maybe even the men, to have a stable relationship where the sexual and economic health of the household could be assured and the children given every opportunity. I think it’s a practical solution. Don’t you?”
He could imagine the government, run by the most conservative men in government anywhere, would have begun by opposing it. But he could also see that if people were more contented and productive, polygamous marriages would receive their blessing. They were pragmatic if they were anything.
“I wouldn’t like it myself,” he smiled. “But I don’t know what Felicity would think…and I won’t be asking her.”
“I wouldn’t either. She might surprise you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he laughed. “But if it makes possible more than one child to a household. That has to be a good thing.”
“Yes, and the three men, one woman and two or three children model works best because if one of the men wants out, the others are usually relieved to be rid of the one who didn’t fit in.”
Harry thought of the difference between polygamy and polyandry and realised that in polygamy the man was reasonably sure he was the father of the children.
“How do they know who’s the father? I imagine they’d want to know.”
“DNA, Harry! Where have you been?”
“Mmmm,” he replied as he reopened
