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believe in brotherly love, goodness, and kindness to all mankind?”

“Certainly.”

“I have heard that many Manchu were killed here.”

“It is true. They lived in the quarter around the old Ming palace. The Manchu are not true Chinese. They have trampled upon our people. And they are idolaters, too. When they fought us, we killed them all.”

“The women and children, too?”

“God told His people to kill all the idolaters.”

“It is better to love and convert them.”

“They weren’t willing.” Nio paused. “You missionaries used the evil opium trade to spread the Gospel. And we’re killing some Manchus to establish God’s Heavenly Kingdom. That’s all.”

“What will the Heavenly Kingdom be like?”

“It is here,” said Nio. “I will show you tomorrow.”

They gave Cecil a good breakfast in the morning. Then Nio arrived and took him out into the street. It was a sunny day. They went westwards.

There were plenty of people about. The stores were open. Everything seemed normal. And yet, Cecil thought, something felt strange—as if this wasn’t China, but some other land.

And then he realized: None of the men were wearing the queue, the pigtail down their back, the sign of their servitude to the Manchu. Chinese men had worn the queue for so many generations now that foreigners supposed it was how the Chinese looked. But no man in China had worn a pigtail during the centuries of the Ming dynasty or the Tang or the Han or any dynasty before. He’d observed the Taiping warriors with their long hair on his way to Nanjing. But now he saw a whole population in their natural state. No wonder it seemed strange.

They passed a small Buddhist temple. The statues in the courtyard had been smashed. He frowned. Why did it offend him? Because they were perhaps works of art? Or was it the destructive anger he sensed in the deed?

“Soon,” Nio remarked, “that will be a church to the One True God.”

They passed a weaving works, then a large storehouse.

“What’s that?” Cecil asked.

“The main granary,” Nio replied. “It’s for all the people now. No more merchants profiteering on the people’s food. This is the Earthly Paradise. All men are equal. No private property. Everything is shared in common. Nobody goes hungry. To each according to his need.” He looked at Whiteparish questioningly. “This is how the followers of Jesus lived after he rose into the sky, is it not?”

“It wasn’t quite that simple,” said Cecil, but he didn’t argue.

They came to what might have been a barracks, though Cecil saw no soldiers there.

“Women’s quarters,” Nio explained. “The single men and women are not allowed to mix. No immorality.”

“And if any should stray from the path of chastity…?”

“They are executed,” Nio answered firmly. He pointed up the street. “That is the palace of the East King. It was a prince’s palace before, I think.”

“Tell me about the East King.”

“The Heavenly Kingdom will be ruled by the Heavenly King, whom we also call Lord of Ten Thousand Years. But he will have four lesser kings.”

“That has been done in many empires before. Genghis Khan’s empire, for instance. And ancient Ireland.”

“I know nothing of that.”

“Tell me more about the Heavenly King. I know he is a Hakka, but what was his story?”

“He was a poor student. He worked hard and passed first in the local examinations. But though he tried four times, he could not pass the provincial examination in Canton. They say many candidates pass by bribing the examiners, but he did not. God sent him a vision and told him he was His younger son. But for a long time he did not understand the vision. At last he read the tracts and understood his mission. He began to preach. Followers came to him. That is how the Heavenly Kingdom began.”

“He truly believes he is the second son of God?”

“He does.”

They followed the broad street until they came in sight of a large palace behind a high wall. “That is where the Heavenly King lives,” said Nio.

“I should like to meet him,” Cecil remarked.

“That will not be possible.”

“Does he know I’m here?”

“Of course.”

They advanced towards the palace gates. And they had nearly reached them when a little procession emerged—a line of brightly colored carriages and sedan chairs, well guarded, and through whose windows Cecil could see what appeared to be richly dressed court ladies. “Is he coming out?” he asked.

“No.”

“Who are they, then?”

“Those are the wives of the Heavenly King.”

“How many wives does he have?”

“Seventeen.” Nio glanced at the missionary and saw his surprise. “It is necessary for the Heavenly King to have many wives, like the emperor,” he explained. “Otherwise he would not be regarded as a king.”

“I hardly think…” Cecil began.

“Your rulers do not have wives and concubines?”

“Well…” Cecil wanted to refute it, but a need for honesty prevented him. Who could deny that, from King Solomon in Jerusalem to the most Christian monarchs of even his own time, the rulers of the West had usually had many women? Only in the United States in modern times was the case otherwise—and he was not quite sure even about that. He decided to change the subject. “Tell me,” he asked, “what is it that you yourself desire to find in the Heavenly Kingdom?”

“An end to oppression. An end to corruption. Justice. Truth. The rule of the good people.”

“Did you always seek this?”

“Since I was a boy. But I did many bad and foolish things along the way.”

“Many people, hurt or disappointed by the world and its imperfection, seek purity. That desire is not unusual.”

“It is what we seek.”

“But you seek it here on Earth.” Cecil Whiteparish sighed. “And Christians understand that a perfect world is not possible on Earth. We say it was lost when Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden. The purity you seek can be found only in Heaven.”

“We shall make Heaven here.”

“It cannot be done on Earth.”

“Why?”

“Human nature.”

“Then we shall change human nature.”

“A noble desire, Nio. But history shows this path leads to tyranny.”

“You are

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