“It was 1720 when the horde of Dzungar Mongols descended upon Tibet, slaughtering and looting all the way to Lhasa,” Shan’s guide said. Shan and Cato Pike were standing in the middle of the archaeology excavation that had brought Natalie Pike to Tibet. Their escort, the junior professor who had taken over after Professor Gangfen’s death, gestured to several students who were guiding a small machine on wheels over the flat terrain. “Ground radar,” the balding man explained. “The most efficient way to find anomalies under the surface.”

Their guide had seemed worried when Shan had shown his badge, but Shan soon realized the junior professor’s awkwardness was more about being with the father of the American who had died while working on their project. “Anomalies?” Shan asked.

“Building foundations,” he said with a nervous glance at Pike. “Cavities that were dug out and refilled, which could mean culverts, wells, latrine pits, defensive entrenchments. We love latrine pits. Nothing like a latrine pit to inform about daily life!”

“And graves,” Shan suggested. He was watching Pike now, who lingered at a six-foot-long hole. He had not expected the American to take him up on his offer to join, but Pike had been at the waiting place by Barkhor Square when Shan had arrived at dawn, after a restless night at a cheap hotel at the edge of the city.

Pike had said very little during the long drive to the site, and Shan had realized that the American felt obliged to visit the dig, which after all was why his daughter had come to Tibet. Doing so with Shan as a companion was probably more palatable than going alone.

“Graves, of course. That’s how Professor Gangfen discovered the first evidence of the importance of the site. We have found several others since.”

“Evidence?” Shan asked.

“Proof, really. Of the Tibetan acceptance of Chinese authority. Skeletons wearing Tibetan amulets around their necks but in remnants of Green Standard Army uniforms. The fabric was mostly disintegrated but the professor was a wizard at using microscopes to confirm weave, material, and color. There can be no real argument anymore. The Tibetan people embraced the Chinese emperor as their protector, their savior against those barbaric Mongol hordes.”

Shan swallowed hard and forced himself to say the correct thing. “No doubt the motherland will be proud of your work.”

“Yes, yes! We’ve already had letters of commendation from Beijing. But the most exciting work lies ahead. We hope to find evidence of the amban’s presence here. We have reason to believe this unit was escorting him to his high office in Lhasa.”

“I’m afraid I am not entirely clear on this history,” Shan confessed as Pike approached. “The Green Standard Army?”