“My first year in Tibet,” Tan said, in a low, contemplative voice, “we stayed on combat alert twenty-four hours a day. I sat in my command seat in the lead tank of my brigade many nights, all night. At first, based on what I heard from Beijing, I was watching for the enemy but after a few weeks we realized there was no enemy, none that would attack a battle line of tanks.

“I started watching the stars instead of the terrain. There were many nights like this, when it seemed you could reach out and grab a handful of the galaxy. At first the vastness scared me, because I was just a little insignificant creature in a uniform, but later the stars calmed me. I wasn’t insignificant, I was part of it.”

Tan sighed, and Shan heard the rasping that rose in his surviving lung when he was weary. “Hell,” he confessed with a forced laugh, “good thing they began ordering us to shell the monasteries, or I might have become a monk.”

“Lha gyal lo,” Shan said.

Tan gave another laugh. “Victory to the gods, right?”

“Right.” After a moment Shan added, “Most forget that it is part of a longer phrase. The ‘warrior’s cry,’ they used to call it, and Tibetans would always offer it at mountain passes, like the one where the dam is being built.”

“Why passes?”

“Because that’s where the good gods do battle with the evil gods. They have to hold the passes, or the evil will flood down onto humanity. Ki ki so so lha gyal lo, that’s the full cry of the prayer. It means something like through the strength of your heart and eternal spirit, the gods will be victorious. There’s a second part I learned in prison. Tak seng khung druk, di yar kye, which means Tiger, lion, garuda, dragon. May they all arise here. They are the allies of the good gods, the protectors on spiritual journeys.”

“Huan, Xun, Jiao,” Tan spat the known names of the Amban Council like a curse. “Ki ki so so lha gyal lo,” he whispered. “Bring out your dragons, old Gekho.” He turned his head toward the pass, where the drone had been defeated that day. “If they wanted this valley, they should have asked us first.”

Shan was not sure if he was speaking to Shan or to the god.

He slept fitfully on his narrow metal-framed bed in the guest quarters, though much better after he got up and reversed the portrait of the Chairman that seemed to be staring down at him. In his dreams he walked along a pilgrim path with Meng and Kami, calling Lokesh’s name.