Forbidden City by William Bell Page B

snapped. “This means we’ll have to smuggle the tapes out,” he said with determination.
    Eddie wasn’t surprised. “After all,” he said, “the whole thing was set up for Gorbachev’s visit. Therewas an agreement to keep the feed open for a month, with possibility of renewal. So the Chinese government broke the agreement. What else is new?”

Early this morning Lao Xu went with Dad and me to Tian An Men Square. It was a chilly morning with bright sunshine. Beijing may be under martial law but you’d never know it — except for the military helicopters that buzzed overhead. The students in the tent city were huddled under those long green padded coats that are common here. The square is still packed with people and there are still lots ofbuses scattered around with students sleeping in them. The students are well organized and seem to have enough food. Lots of the food is brought by local residents.
    The temporary latrines have not been replaced, so when the wind is right — or wrong — the square isn’t a very pleasant place to be. Signs and banners are everywhere. The atmosphere is calm, as if the demonstrators expect to be there a long time, as if everyone is waiting.
    I went to look for Hong first thing, but I guess I had been right about him. He was probably in the hospital.
    There seemed to be a lot of meetings going on. We eavesdropped on one. Lao Xu said that the students were discussing tactics. Some said they should obey the martial law ban on demonstrations, some said they should stay, some said they should seal off the square by barricading the streets leading to it. They all seemed to agree that eventually the soldiers will come.
    Lao Xu read some of the signs for us. Many of them name the universities represented — Beijing University, Qinghua University, People’s University, Beijing Normal University. Some of the signs said Down with Li Peng or Down with Deng Xiao-ping. He’s the guy Eddie says really runs the country but there have been lots of rumours that he’s sick and might die soon. Some of the signs had little pop bottles hanging from them. Dad asked Lao Xu what they were for.
    “Hey! I know!” I cut in.
“Xiao ping
means ‘little bottle’. It’s a play on Deng Xiao-ping’s name which really means ‘Little Peace’. Right, Lao Xu?”
    Lao Xu looked uncomfortable. “Yes. It’s very bad manners. All of these signs calling for down with this person and that are rude. And dangerous.”
    Dad wasn’t listening. He had the video camera up to his eye. It was pointed at the little bottles.

    Things are getting really intense. This morning the PLA tried to enter the city. Their objective, of course, was to clear the square because the demonstrations are a defiance of martial law. Well, guess what happened? Hundreds of thousands of citizens of Beijing poured out into the streets and blocked the roads! I mean, the roads just filled up with live standing bodies! Nothing could move. People surrounded the trucks and the columns of soldiers and stopped them in their tracks!
    I took a little tour on my bike — with the camcorder rigged up and running, naturally — heading west along Chang An, past Xi Dan Street market area where I bought my bike. I didn’t even get to the second Ring Road before I met so many people that I had to get off my bike and walk. What I saw was amazing. I saw soldiers sitting on benches in the back of an army truck, looking embarrassed while students standing on the hood of the truck lecturedthem through loud-hailers. Some students offered the soldiers food or bottles of pop. The soldiers refused them. When I got closer I could see citizens —women with net shopping bags full of vegetables over their arms, old men with those whispy beards — talking with the soldiers at the tailgate.
    One interesting thing was that the soldiers weren’t armed. I remembered what Lao Xu had told me about the PLA being a people’s army. The citizens and students I saw obviously