Fifty Degrees Below - Kim Stanley Robinson [173]
“On what basis?”
“Well, you know. To control the situation.”
“Ah yes. Of course.”
“So Chadrel Rimpoche, the head of the Tashilhunpo Monastery, contacted the Dalai Lama in secret, to get his help in making the choice, as was proper in the tradition. His group had already identified several children in north Tibet as possibilities. So the Dalai Lama performed divinations to discover which of them was the new Panchen Lama. He found that it was a boy living near Tashilhunpo. The signs were clear. But now the question was, how were they going to get that candidate approved by the Chinese, while also hiding the involvement of the Dalai Lama.”
“Couldn’t Chadrel Rimpoche just tell the Chinese that’s who it was?”
“Well, but the Chinese had introduced a system of their own. It involves a thing called the Golden Urn. When there are any uncertainties, and those are easy to create, then the three top names are put into this urn. The name drawn from the urn is destined to be the correct one.”
“What?” Charlie cried. “They draw the name out of a hat?”
“Out of an urn. Yes.”
“But that’s crazy! I mean presumably if there is a reincarnated lama in one of these kids, he is who he is! You can’t be drawing a name from a hat.”
“One would suppose. But the Chinese have never been averse to harming Tibetan traditions, as you know. Anyway, in this case the Dalai Lama’s divination was a boy in a region under Chinese control, so it seemed as if chances for his confirmation were fairly good. But there was concern that the Chinese would use the urn to deliberately choose someone other than the one Chadrel Rimpoche recommended, just to show they were in control, and to deny the Dalai Lama any possible influence.”
“Sure. And so?”
“And so, the Dalai Lama eventually decided to announce the identity of the boy, thinking that the Chinese would then be pressured to conform to Tibetan wishes, but satisfied that it was a boy living under their control.”
“Oh no,” Charlie said. “I’m surprised anyone could have thought that, knowing the Chinese.”
Drepung sighed. “It was a gamble. The Dalai Lama must have felt that it was the best chance they had.”
“But it didn’t work.”
“No.”
“So what happened to the boy?”
“He and his parents were taken into custody. Chadrel Rimpoche also.”
“Where are they now?”
“No one knows. They have not been seen since that time.”
“Now see? I don’t want Joe to be any part of that sort of thing!”
Drepung sighed. Finally he said, “The Panchen Lama is a special case, very highly politicized, because of the Chinese. Many returned lamas are identified without any such problems.”
“I don’t care! Besides, you can’t be sure whether it will get complicated or not.”
“No Chinese are involved.”
“I don’t care!”
Drepung hunched forward a little, as if to say, What can I do, I can’t do anything.
“Look,” Charlie said. “It’s upsetting Anna. She doesn’t believe in anything you can’t see or quantify, you know that. It upsets her even to try. You make this kind of stuff be about Joe and it will just freak her out. She’s trying not to think about it right now, I can tell, but even that is freaking her out. She’s not good at not thinking about things. She thinks about things.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be. I mean, think of it this way. If she hadn’t befriended you guys like she did when you first came here, then you would never even have known Joe existed. So in effect you are punishing Anna for her kindness to you.”
Drepung pursed his lips, hummed unhappily. He looked like he had while climbing: unhappy, faced with a problem.
“Besides,” Charlie pressed, “the whole idea that your kid is somehow not just, you know, your kid—that he’s someone else somehow—that in itself is upsetting. Offensive, one might even say. I mean he is a reincarnation already, of me and Anna.”
“And your ancestors.”
“Right, true. But anyone else, no.”
“Hmmm.”
“But you see what I mean? How it feels?”
“Yes.” Drepung nodded, rocking his whole body forward