As his thoughts drifted back from the conference, he realized the elevator should have opened by now. When he turned his head to look around, the elevator lights blurred, like a video in slow motion. His body felt heavy. He could hardly breathe. He reached out to grab the elevator rail, but his hand wouldn’t close; it slipped off, and the steel floor rushed up.
CHAPTER 10
Interrogation Room C
West Jakarta Police Detention Center
Jakarta, Indonesia
“Why won’t you listen to me? Why the hell aren’t you out looking for those two boys?” Kate Warner stood, leaned over the metal table and stared at the smug little interrogator who had already wasted twenty minutes of her time.
“We are trying to find them. That is why we are asking you these questions, Miss Warner.”
“I already told you, I don’t know anything.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” The little man tilted his head side-to-side as he said the words.
“Maybe my ass. I’ll find them myself.” She stepped toward the steel door.
“That door is locked, Miss Warner.”
“So unlock it.”
“Not possible. It must be locked while a suspect is questioned.”
“Suspect? I want a lawyer, right now.”
“You are in Jakarta, Miss Warner. No lawyer, no call to the American Embassy.” The man continued looking down, picking dirt off his boots. “We have many foreigners here, many visitors, many people who come here, who do not respect our country, our people. Before, we fear American Consulate, we give them lawyer, they always get away. We learn. Indonesians are not being as stupid as you think, Miss Warner. That is why you do your work here, is it not? You think we are too stupid to figure out what you are up to?”
“I’m not up to anything. I’m trying to cure autism.”
“Why not do that in your own country, Miss Warner?”
Kate would never, in a million years, tell this man why she had left America. Instead, she said, “America is the most expensive place in the world to conduct a clinical trial.”
“Ah, then it is about the cost, yes? Here in Indonesia, you can buy babies to experiment on?”
“I haven’t bought any babies!”
“But your trial owns these children, does it not?” He turned the file around and pointed at it.
Kate followed his finger.
“Miss Warner, your trial is the legal guardian of both of these children, of all 103, is it not?”
“Legal guardianship is not ownership.”
“You use different words. So did the Dutch East India Corporation. Do you know of it? I am sure you do. They used the word colony, but they owned Indonesia for over two hundred years. A corporation owned my country and its people, and they treated us as their property, taking what they wanted. In 1947, we finally got our independence. But the memory is still raw for my people. A jury will see this as just the same. You did take these children, did you not? You said it yourself, you did not pay for them. And I see no record of the parents. They gave no consent to the adoption. Do they even know you have their children?”
Kate stared at him.
“I thought so. We are getting somewhere now. It is best to be honest. One last thing, Miss Warner. I see that your research is funded by Immari Jakarta — Research Division. It is probably only coincidence… but very unfortunate… Immari Holdings purchased many of the assets of the Dutch East India Corporation when they were driven out 65 years ago… So the money for your work came from…”
The man stuffed the pages in the folder and stood, as if he were an Indonesian Perry Mason making his closing argument. “You can see how a jury might see this, Miss Warner. Your people leave, but return with a new name and continue to exploit us. Instead of sugar cane and coffee beans in the 1900s, now you want new drugs, you need new Guinea Pigs to experiment on. You take our children, run experiments you could not run in your own country, because you will not do this to your own children, and when something goes wrong, maybe a child gets sick or you think the authorities will find out, you get rid of these children. But something goes wrong. Maybe one of your technicians cannot kill these children. He knows it is wrong. He fights back, and he is killed in the struggle. You know the police will come, so you make up this story about the kidnapping? Yes. You can admit this; it will be better. Indonesia is a merciful place.”
“It’s not true.”
“It is the most logical story, Miss Warner. You give us no alternative. You ask for your lawyer. You insist we release you. Think about how this looks.”
Kate stared at him.
The man stood and made for the door. “Very well, Miss Warner. I must warn you, what follows will not be pleasant. It is best to cooperate, but of course, you clever Americans always know best.”
CHAPTER 11
Immari Corp. Research Complex
Outside Burang, China
Tibet Autonomous Region
“Wake up, Jin, they’re calling your number.”
Jin tried to open his eyes, but the light was blinding. His roommate, Wei, huddled over him, whispering something in his ear, but Jin couldn’t make it out. In the background, a booming voice called over the loud speaker, “204394, report immediately. 204394, report immediately. 204394. 204394. Report.”
Jin leapt out of the small bed. How long had they been calling him? His eyes darted left and right, searching the 10x10 cell. Where were his pants and shirt? Please, no — if he was late and forgot his outfit, they would kick him out for sure. Where were they? Where— Wei sat on the opposite bunk, holding up the white cloth pants and shirt. Jin snatched them and pulled them on, almost ripping the pants.
Wei stared at the floor. “Sorry, Jin, I was asleep too. I didn’t hear.”
Jin wanted to say something but there wasn’t time. He ran out of the room and down the hall. Several of the cells were empty and most had only one occupant. At the door to the wing, the orderly said “Arm.”
Jin held out his arm. “204394.”
“Quiet,” the man said. He waved a handheld device with a small screen over Jin’s arm. It beeped and the man turned his head and yelled “That’s it.” He opened the door for Jin. “Go ahead.”
Jin joined about fifty other “residents,” and three orderlies escorted them to a large room with several long rows of chairs. The rows were separated by tall cubicle-like walls. The chairs looked almost like reclining beach chairs. Beside each chair, a tall silver pole held three bags of clear liquid, each with a tube hanging down. On the other side of each chair stood a machine with more readouts than a car dashboard and a bundle of wires hanging from the bottom, tied off on the chair rail.