Actually, the battlefield was a first-class structure, built with polished wooden floors and French windows. When you entered you had to remove your shoes since the listening equipment was incredibly expensive and extremely delicate. It was most important for us to be clean and spotless; otherwise we might track in unwanted dust. Once inside, I guided Abing to the sofa and had him sit. Seated to his right was our surveillance division’s most accomplished equipment operator, a man by the name of Chen, who held the post of Section Chief. To Abing’s left was a small table. On top stood a single cup of tea, one pack of cigarettes, a box of matches and an ashtray. I introduced Abing to Section Chief Chen and said, ‘Abing, from now on, consider Section Chief Chen to be your hands. I hope that the two of you will work well together.’

As seemed appropriate in the circumstances, the Section Chief opened the pack of cigarettes, pulled one out, and handed it to Abing. Lighting it, he said how excited and pleased he was to be able to assist Abing in whatever he needed. Abing judged him there and then: Section Chief Chen was like me, a good man. You must understand, in terms of the development of Abing’s talent, this was most important. If he didn’t like the man now in front of him, Abing would be uncomfortable and out of sorts; he would be easily agitated, and if that happened, his immense abilities would desert him. I very much wanted to avoid such a situation, and I was especially frightened of the possibility that should his ability leave him he might never be able to get it back, just like the filament of a light bulb that once scorched can never light up again. Considering the unique nature of Abing’s personality and character, I had to be prepared in advance for any unexpected eventuality. To tell you the truth, a remarkable talent such as Abing possessed is not easily put to use, and to see him now sitting happily in front of the radio equipment was the culmination of our hard work, as well as the result of a large measure of good fortune.

After the two of them had discussed things for a bit, Section Chief Chen began to dextrously twirl the knob of the listening device in his fingers, swivelling it around, whereupon from the depths of the airwaves dormant radio signals – public broadcasts, clamorous yelling, music – and static spewed forth. Abing sat upright on the sofa, the cigarette dangling from his mouth. He began to listen intently; his right forefinger and middle finger began to tap out the signals on the armrest of the sofa.

‘Could you speed it up a bit? You’re switching channels too slow.

‘Still too slow: a little faster.

‘A little faster.

‘Faster …’