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He sent the message to Jin Chin-hwa with instructions to forward it to any and every Internet address he could find for the military base at Yeongjeo-dong. He would have preferred to use a single, secure address, but urgency trumped security.

As soon as the meeting ended he buttonholed his father. ‘I need an air-force jet to take me to Yanji,’ he said. ‘And then a helicopter to fly me from there to Yeongjeo-dong.’

‘I’ll arrange it,’ said Jianjun. ‘When?’

Kai looked at his watch. It was ten o’clock. ‘Eleven o’clock departure from Beijing, two o’clock transfer at Yanji, three o’clock touchdown at Yeongjeo-dong, approximately.’

‘Okay.’

It was a relief to be in accord with his father for once, Kai thought. He said: ‘I’ve told the ultras that I’ll be unaccompanied except for the pilot, and we’ll both be unarmed. No guns aboard the chopper, please.’

‘Good thinking. Once you’re in rebel territory you’ll always be outnumbered. The only way to stay alive is not to fight.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Consider it done.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Good luck, my son.’

***

It was a clear, cloudless day in North Korea. Flying low over the eastern zone in a helicopter of the Chinese air force, Kai looked down at a landscape lit by winter sunshine. He had the impression of a country operating normally. There were workers in the fields and trucks on the roads.

It was not like China, of course: traffic in towns was not gridlocked, there was less of the pink haze of pollution, and the apartment towers that sprouted like weeds on the outskirts of Chinese towns were rare here. North Korea was poorer and less crowded.

He saw no signs of war: no collapsed buildings or burned fields or torn-up railway tracks. The initial rebellion had involved skirmishing around the military bases, and then the new rulers of this zone had stayed out of the international conflict. The people probably loved them for that alone. Were these ultras smart? Or just lucky? He would know soon.

There was also no visible sign of the American attack. As promised, they were targeting the west of the country, the territory still ruled by the Supreme Leader. Perhaps missiles were flying above Kai’s head, but if so they were too high and too fast for him to see.

The machinery of government was working well in the rebel zone. Kai’s pilot had contacted Korean air traffic control in the usual way and obtained clearance.

Earlier today the rebel leader Pak Jae-jin had replied immediately to Kai’s message. He seemed keen to talk. He had agreed to the meeting, given the exact co-ordinates of the military base, and fixed the time of the appointment for half past three in the afternoon.

While in transit at Yanji military airport, Kai had received a panicky call from General Ham, his spy in Pak Jae-jin’s camp. ‘What are you doing?’ Ham had said.

‘We have to end the war.’

‘Are you planning a deal with the ultras?’

‘It’s an exploratory conversation.’

‘These people are fanatics. Their nationalism is like a religion.’

‘They seem to have won a lot of support.’

‘Their supporters mainly think anyone would be better than the Supreme Leader.’

Kai had paused to think. Ham did not usually exaggerate. If he was worried, there must be a reason. Kai said: ‘Given that I have to meet these people, how should I deal with them?’

Ham’s answer was immediate. ‘Don’t trust them.’

‘Got it.’

‘I will be at your meeting.’

‘Why?’