Cheung could hardly hear him for the regular beat of the whisk against the sides of the bowl. How had all of his hard work and good fortune come to this? He whisked, tuning the colonel out. He wished he could whisk away the whole war, but the weapon was so insubstantial. He whisked and whisked. The drink would solidify if he whisked it any more. He poured it. Grated a little nutmeg over top. Turned and placed it in front of the man who held the absolute power of life and death over him. “I’m not following you, sir.”

Noma’s eyes gleamed bright. “Isn’t your son about to have a son?”

“My daughter-in-law is giving birth, sir, yes.”

“What’s her name?”

“Emily Cheung Wai-Yee.”

“What will you call your grandson?”

“I’m not sure yet. I don’t know for sure it will be a boy.”

“But if it is?”

“I was thinking Raymond Duk-Ming, sir.”

Noma turned the glass to admire its frothy beauty.

“I think you should give the kid a Japanese name.”

“Sir?”

He turned the glass again and jostled it a little to see how stable the bubbles were. “My name for instance.”

“The honour would be too great.”

Finally, he took a sip. “Delicious. A bit less sugar next time, maybe.” He took another. “Do you know what my personal name is?”

“No, sir.”

“Kennosuke. I’m Noma Kennosuke. Your grandson could be Cheung Kennosuke. A fine pan-Asian name!”

“I wouldn’t presume to give my humble grandson your illustrious personal name,” said Cheung. He was taken aback and frightened by the colonel’s familiarity with him. To say nothing of this bizarre proposal.

“Are you sure your grandson is yours?”

Cheung was not. Not at all. But he couldn’t afford to say so. “I am, sir.” He spoke as firmly as he could.

“There are stupid Chinese men all over this blasted ex-colony who are as sure as you are that their grandsons are their own,” said Noma. “Nine months after the liberation. Do you know what my men did the day we set you free? And in the weeks after?”

Cheung knew. With glassy eyes, he stared at the colonel.

“You say you’re sure because you’ve been so colonized by those toffy white-skinned devils you’ve lost your ability to speak the truth. Do you know what my men do in the Supreme Court of Justice to liars like you?”

Cheung knew perfectly well. But with the wisdom of the doubly colonized, he shook his head.

“Lying again?”

“Please, sir.”

“For the love of Kannon, don’t beg!”