Regan called Washington that‘ evening to relay the good news. “We’re over the hump,” he told Martinelli. “I’ve sold close to a billion dollars’ worth, and I haven’t yet gotten to Asia. How’s the Latin American campaign coming along?“ ”So-so,“ the counsel said. ”A million here, half a million there. We’re trying to pry ten million out of Argentina, but they’re worried about the beef situation.“
‘Hold their hands,“ Regan advised. ”Tell them everything’s going to be all right. And hit them up for twenty million. God knows they’ve got it!“
There was a ceremonial feast for him, desert style, in Feisal’s air-conditioned palace. Regan ate sheep eyes and cracked wheat with the best of them. For half a billion dollars, there were few parts of a sheep he would not eat.
In the morning, the jet took him eastward.
Peking was his first Asiatic port of call. Only a few months before, representing Global Factors, Regan had negotiated an enormous loan for the People’s Republic. Now, wearing a different hat, he had come to get some of that money back.
Regan was not too confident. In August, he had been lending money to China at eight percent; now, as a borrower, he offered only three percent. The Chinese could hardly be expected to welcome such an arrangement. Still, they were making a show of their friendship toward the West these days. They could spare twenty or thirty million, Regan thought.
He was prepared to do a little conniving if they balked- to arrange for a slight mitigation of the interest terms on China’s loan from Global, if China would cooperate in the Fair’s bond drive. Cutting the rate on the loan from eight percent to, say, six, would cost Global some money, but would also release some of the capital tied up in World’s Fair bonds. The Factor was certain he could ram his indenture revision through the Board of Directors when he got back. He had rammed far more unlikely things past them.
But he did not get the opportunity.
He was left to cool his heels in Peking for two days before Chairman Ch’ien would see him, for one thing. That was a striking enough contrast to his treatment in August, which had been strictly red carpet. At length, Regan was conducted to the Flower Palace, and allowed into the presence of the Chairman.
Of all the heads of state In the world, none impressed ‘Regan more than Ch’ien Hsiu-ch’uan. He had held his post twenty years, a major accomplishment in itself, coming to the fore in 1971 after the China Troubles. Poet, scholar, archaeologist, diplomat, Ch’ien had rescued Communist China from the chaos that had beset it, and had transformed it into a leading industrial power whose old belligerent attitude now seemed only an uneasy memory in the West.
Regan and Ch’ien had met on cordial enough terms in August. But there was a certain stiffness in the Chinese leader’s manner now. Shorter even than Regan, seamed by the years, Ch’ien waited impassively, saying nothing, while the Factor explained why he had come.
At length Ch’ien remarked, “What is this Fair to us, Factor? Why should we be concerned with Columbus and his voyage?”
‘We are commemorating one of the supreme achievements of human courage,“ Regan said.
‘To sail westward and find land? Does this take bravery?“
‘It took bravery then, Chairman Ch’ien.“
‘There have been other feats of bravery in the world’s history, Factor. Is it necessary to spend billions of dollars to commemorate each one?“
‘We regard this particular feat as exceptional,“ Regan said tightly. ”It was the discovery of our hemisphere, after all.“
‘Was it?“ There was cool irony in the shining Oriental eyes. ”I remind you, Factor, of the voyage of Hoei-Shin. Is it of no significance to you?“
‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.“
‘During the reign of the dynasty of Tsi,“ Ch’ien said, ”a Buddhist priest named Hoei-Shin voyaged eastward out of China for some twenty thousand Chinese miles, until he came to a land called Fusang. Fusang was quite probably Mexico or Peru. I can cite documents to support this, if you wish. Hoei-Shin’s voyage took place in a.d. 499. He was not the first Chinese visitor to the New World, Factor. You will kindly note that this took place one thousand years before the journey of Columbus.“
Regan kept a straight face. “I’ve heard stories of prior discovery, Chairman Ch’ien. Nonetheless, we feel that the voyage of Columbus deserves honor-”
‘We scarcely agree with you,“ Ch’ien said gently.
It was pure mockery, Regan knew. If China wanted to help the Fair, China would help, and no nonsense about the voyage of Hoei-Shin to Fusang in 499. China did not want to help. It had no craving to assist the Westerners in puffing their own discovery of themselves.
Regan left China empty-handed, though Ch’ien was kind enough to present him with a Sung Dynasty scroll as a personal gift, by way of consolation. It was a lovely enough scroll, with its dim, delicate depictions of mountains and waterfalls, but it did not help Global Factors at all to get off the hook on which Regan had so buoyantly impaled it.
Japan, Korea, Thailand, Indonesia, the Polynesian Federation-Regan continued his tour inexorably from capital to capital. Japan was helpful, but only moderately. Australia and New Zealand subscribed with lukewarm zeal.
Regan sensed a world-wide lack of interest in backing the Fair. There was nothing organized about it, nothing conspiratorial. The nations of the world simply did not choose to underwrite the American show. They preferred to let America do a little squirming.
Or was it hostility toward him, he wondered dolefully?
Right now, the man who was squirming-with Global Factors in the hole for billions of dollars on the 1992 Columbian Exposition-was Claude Regan. And he was squirming most agonizingly.
SIX
‘Home at last?“ Nola asked him.
Regan nodded. It was late February. Denver still lay in winter’s grip. A field of ice stretched downward along the slopes of Regan’s hilltop. Nola looked wintry too. In his absence, she had grown thinner; the cheekbones slanted like knives embedded in the planes of her face. Beauticians had been at work on her, he knew. She was past thirty, but looked no more than twenty, except around the eyes. They were ancient eyes, Cleopatra’s eyes, viper’s eyes. Those eyes confronted him frigidly now. He had invited her to join him on his fund-raising tour, but she had declined, and now she seemed to be blaming him for the months of solitude.
She was tanned. Her skin sparkled faintly. A small ruby was glistening in the pit in the center of her forehead, making her look like some temple idol. Regan detested the fashion, thinking it grotesque, and perhaps that was why Nola embraced it. She changed jewels every three months. When he left, she had been wearing an emerald-cut diamond. She had the forehead for it, wide and high, a flawless expanse of skin for the insertion of the sliver of colored stone.
‘Home,“ he said. He walked past her, into the indoor garden. Hyacinths bloomed here, and sullen purple tulips, and daffodils with nodding heads. The perfume of the flowers was overwhelming after the winter sterility outside. He felt monumentally tired. He knew what had been going on in his absence, for he had never let eight hours go by without checking both his offices, the home office in Denver and the Fair office in Washington.
It had been a winter of discontent. Global stock had closed, the day before, at 111, the lowest in two years. The company’s 4Vz percent debentures of 2028 had sold off sharply, down to 99, on a rumor that Global would be seeking additional financing shortly at a higher interest rate. It was the first time since 1977 that any Global bond had sold below par.