The Republic of Wine

it.
    Turning to study the expression on Diamond Jin’s face, he discovered that the man’s handsome eyes were fixed on him, as if he were under scrutiny, as if he had run into a cunning adversary, as if he had fallen into an enemy’s trap. But the friendliness that exuded from Diamond Jin’s handsome, smiling eyes chipped away at the wariness in the investigator’s mind. ‘Comrade Ding Gou’er,’ he said in the intoxicating voice of fine liquor, ‘you’re the expert in this area. What do these four tens mean to you?’
    The words wouldn’t come, for the butterfly of consciousness that had been washed out of his head by alcohol hadn’t yet returned in all its gracefulness. And so he could only stare in terror at Diamond Jin’s mouth and the light glinting off his gold or bronze tooth.
    ‘I think,’ Diamond Jin said, ‘that it’s a gang symbol, a gang with forty members, or four times ten, in other words, forty thieves, which means an Ali Baba could show up at any time. Maybe you, Comrade Ding Gou’er, will assume the role of Ali Baba without knowing it. That would be a blessing to the two million citizens of Liquorland.’ He saluted Ding Gou’er with his hands clasped in front, making Ding feel more awkward than ever.
    Ding Gou’er said, ‘My papers, my wallet, my cigarettes, lighter, electric shaver, toy pistol, and telephone book were all stolen by those forty thieves.’
    ‘How dare they touch a single hair on the head of the mighty Jupiter!’ Diamond Jin said with a raucous laugh.
    ‘Lucky for me they didn’t take my real pal here!’ Ding Gou’er said as he flashed his pistol.
    ‘Old Ding, I've come to say good-bye. I was going to ask you to join me in a farewell drink, but in consideration of how wrapped up in your official duties you are, I won’t disturb you. Come see me at the Municipal Party Committee office if there’s anything I can do for you.’ Diamond Jin stuck out his hand.
    Still in a daze, Ding Gou’er took the other man’s hand and, still in a daze, released it; then, still in a daze, he watched Diamond Jin vanish from the room under the escort of the Party Secretary and Mine Director. A dry heave came charging up from his stomach, creating shooting pains in his chest on the way. His hangover hung on. The situation was anything but clear. After sticking his head under the faucet and running cold water over it for a good ten minutes, he drank the glass of cold tea. He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes, settling his diaphragm and clearing his mind of all selfish ideas and personal considerations; then his eyes snapped open, and his thoughts were acute and focused again, like an ax sharpened to a razor’s edge, ready to hack away at the vines and grasses covering his eyes and clouding his vision; a new thought came to him at that moment, as if splashed brightly on the picture screen of his mind: Liquorland is home to a gang of cannibalistic monsters, and everything that happened at the banquet was part of an elaborate hoax!
    After drying his head and face, putting on his shoes and socks, and fastening his belt, he put away his pistol, clapped his hat on his head, wrapped his blue checked shirt around his shoulders -the one the scaly youngster had tossed onto the carpet, where it had soaked up his vomit - and strode boldly to the door; jerking open the dark-brown door, he strode down the corridor in search of an elevator or flight of stairs. A friendly, cream-colored attendant at the service desk told him how to find his way out of the maze.
    Outside he was greeted by mixed weather conditions: rolling rain clouds in a sun-splashed sky. It was past noon already, and gigantic cloud-shadows skittered across the ground, as golden sunlight shimmered on yellow leaves. Ding Gou’er’s nose began to itch, and seven sneezes followed in rapid succession; he was bent over like a dried shrimp, tears welled up in his eyes. After straightening up, through the misty veil covering his eyes, he saw the enormous black drum atop the dark red windlass at the entrance to the mine, which was still pulling silver gray cable up and down. Everything was just as it had been when he entered: golden sunflowers covered the ground; stacks of lumber gave off a delicate fragrance, spreading the aura of a primeval forest. A rail car carrying lumps of coal shuttled back and forth on narrow tracks between towering mounds of coal. The car was equipped with a small motor attached to a long