On top of an announcement about evening entertainments someone had pinned a photocopy of an aerial photo of the project. Shan took it down, puzzling over the annotations that had been made on it. Buddhist symbols were drawn along the top in a crude hand, then lines had been drawn along the edges of the valley and what looked like eyes drawn in the lake above the waterfall that dropped into the valley. More drops of blue paint had been added to the bottom. Seeing that two more identical images had been pinned elsewhere on the board, he folded the paper into his pocket.

Shan returned the tunic he had borrowed to the peg he had taken it from, tossed his hard hat into the bin, and marched into the administrative offices. The director’s secretary fortunately recognized him and expressed chagrin that he had not arrived in time to join the director and their distinguished foreign visitor.

He feigned surprise. “A foreigner?”

“Our first of many to come, the director told us,” she exclaimed. “We didn’t really expect him, although a woman from the United Nations office in Lhasa did call this morning to leave a message for him to call some ambassador, so we had a couple hours’ notice. At least he brought a copy of the letter he had sent, which we haven’t even received yet. We apologized and said in the future email would be sufficient.” She lifted the letter with a proud, excited expression. “The United Nations!” she exclaimed.

“May I?” Shan asked and accepted the letter with a respectful nod. It explained that the global director of Hydrogeology Development, Mr. Constantine Speare, was in Lhasa on official business and would be visiting the project to witness its remarkable construction and see if the director would be interested in speaking at a global sustainability conference in Kuala Lumpur. “The director must be very proud,” Shan said as he handed the letter back. Pike had known how to get his foot in the director’s door

The woman gave a vigorous nod. “Director Ren was disappointed in his offer to host a banquet tonight in honor of Mr. Speare, but the gentleman has to return to Lhasa today.” She gave a sigh of relief. “As if such an important personage would care to eat in our simple executive’s hall,” she added in a whisper, then she brightened. “But maybe we can get a photo of him for our wall,” she said, pointing to the wall of framed photos between the empty offices of the director and deputy director.