The windowless chamber in the Forbidden City was a place outside of time, an unchanging void of silence and shadow. Here, secrets were weighed, fates were decided, and the true machinery of the empire was set in motion. Spymaster Shen Ke stood before his Emperor, the pools of light cast by the electric lamps seeming to stop just short of his dark, silken robes. It had been only weeks since he had been given his impossible directives, but his shadowy tendrils had already spread across the globe.
He presented his findings with the dispassionate air of a scholar discussing ancient history, his voice a low, steady monotone that betrayed none of the frantic energy his agents had expended.
"Your Majesty, locating the American's 'Project Prometheus' is… proving to be a formidable challenge," Shen Ke began. "They are operating with a level of security that suggests they fear a threat on their own soil. Their counter-intelligence measures are superb. However, we have made progress."
He gestured to a subordinate, who placed a thin file on the table before the Emperor. "We cannot see the project, so we are watching its shadow. Our agents in American ports and industrial centers have intercepted naval logistics requests. They speak of massive, unprecedented quantities of copper wiring, specialized vacuum tubes from the laboratories of a man named De Forest, and advanced geological survey equipment. All of it, tons of material, is being routed through a series of anonymous military depots before being consolidated at a single, heavily classified distribution point in the state of Nevada."
He paused, letting the information settle. "The scale of the materials suggests a project of immense size and almost unimaginable energy requirements. We have a state, Your Majesty. But not yet a location. Nevada is a vast and empty land."
Qin Shi Huang gave a slow, deliberate nod. It was progress. A direction. It was enough, for now. "And Roosevelt?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence. "Have you found the knife I asked for?"
"Finding a personal or political vulnerability in President Roosevelt is also difficult," Shen Ke admitted without hesitation. "The man is a master of public perception, a fortress of manufactured integrity. His enemies are loud but ineffective. However, my agents have identified a potential point of leverage. It is not a weakness to be exploited, but a strength to be turned against him. It is an unconventional approach."
The spymaster produced a second, even thinner dossier. He placed it atop the first. On its cover was a photograph, a formal university portrait. It showed a Chinese woman in her early thirties, dressed in the dark, heavy academic robes of a Western institution. Her hair was pulled back severely, accentuating a face that was not beautiful in a classical sense, but striking in its sharp, analytical focus. Her eyes, clear and direct, seemed to challenge the viewer, to dissect and understand them.
"Her name is Chen Linwei," Shen Ke said. "She uses the Western name 'Evelyn Chen.' She was born in Jiangsu province, to a family of minor scholars. A prodigy from a young age. She was one of the first students selected for the educational exchange program Your Majesty authorized years ago."
He opened the dossier. "She did not study the arts or philosophy. She earned a doctorate in physics from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, with a specialization in electromagnetic theory. Her doctoral thesis, 'On the Principles of Harmonic Resonance in Crystalline Structures,' was considered revolutionary by her professors. A work of genius. She returned to China three months ago, citing in her official repatriation request a desire to contribute to the nation's modernization and to serve the Dragon Throne. She currently holds a teaching post at the Imperial University in Beijing."
Shen Ke looked up, his gaze meeting the Emperor's. "Your Majesty, she is one of the few minds in the entire world who could likely comprehend the theoretical science behind a weapon like Project Prometheus. She speaks their language, both literally and scientifically. My proposal is to recruit her. Bring her into the X-Laboratory, under Major Lin. She could be our key to understanding what the Americans are building. She could give us a defense. She might even be able to build us a better weapon."
Qin Shi Huang took the dossier. He did not read the text. He stared at the photograph, his long, manicured fingers tracing the edge of the image. Shen Ke, his most trusted servant, saw a sword to be wielded. But the Emperor, his mind now conditioned by the searing betrayal of Dr. Wu, saw something else entirely. He saw a viper, coiled and waiting.
"She studied in America for eight years," QSH stated, his voice flat. "She lived among them. She thinks their thoughts, reads their books, breathes their philosophy of chaotic liberty. And she returns to China now, just as America begins this project?"
He looked up from the photograph, and his eyes were chips of black ice. "You see a patriot, Shen Ke. I see a Trojan Horse."
The spymaster was taken aback by the swiftness and certainty of the judgment. "Majesty, with respect, all our background checks have been exhaustive. Her family has a long and loyal history. We have monitored her since her return. She has published articles in the Beijing press that are sharply critical of Western colonial policy in Asia. There is no evidence…"
"A perfect cover story," the Emperor cut him off, his voice dangerously soft. "The most effective spies are the ones who believe their own lies. Dr. Wu was also a patriot, Shen Ke. He wept with gratitude when I granted his laboratory funding. His devotion was unimpeachable, until it wasn't. This woman… this Dr. Chen… she is either the single most valuable asset in the Great Qing Empire, or she is the most dangerous spy we have ever faced. We cannot afford to guess which is true."
He closed the dossier with a quiet, final snap. Shen Ke's proposal was dead.
"Your mission has changed," QSH commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You will not recruit her. Not yet. You will place her under absolute, total surveillance. I want a team assigned to her and her alone. I want to know every person she speaks to, from the university chancellor to the street vendor who sells her noodles. I want to know every book she reads, every newspaper, every letter she receives, every character she writes in her private journals. I want her classroom monitored for any coded language in her lectures. I want her footsteps followed from the moment she leaves her home to the moment she returns. I want you to know her better than she knows herself."
Shen Ke bowed his head, concealing the flicker of frustration in his eyes. He had brought his Emperor a potential solution, a sword, and the Emperor had chosen to treat it like an unexploded bomb.
"If she is loyal," the Emperor continued, his mind already spinning intricate webs of suspicion around the woman in the photograph, "she is a genius. A genius will not be content teaching elementary physics to the sons of merchants for long. She will grow frustrated with the limitations of her post. She will seek a greater challenge, a way to make a true mark. And eventually, she will petition the throne for a position worthy of her talents. She will come to us, and we will welcome her."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a cold, conspiratorial whisper. "But if she is a spy—if she is Roosevelt's 'New Nightingale' sent to infiltrate my government—she will also grow impatient. She will eventually make a mistake. She will seek out a dead drop. She will try to contact her handlers. And when she does, you will be there. You will not arrest her. You will follow the thread back to the American embassy, and you will bring me their entire network."
He pushed the dossier back across the table to his spymaster. "Watch the scholar, Shen Ke. Let us see if she is a patriot, or if she is a spy."
Shen Ke took the file and bowed deeply, his mind already reallocating agents, setting up observation posts, initiating the complex and resource-intensive operation his Emperor demanded. He had intended to recruit a weapon. Instead, he had been ordered to lay a trap, using one of the most brilliant minds in China as the bait. He left the chamber, leaving the Emperor alone with his thoughts, staring at the empty space on the table where the woman's face had been.