Shan was not sure he would recognize the man, but as soon as he entered the circle of the firelight Shan remembered how the Tadjik had jumped on him. He recognized the eyes, which had been so wild with emotion when the man had pounded Shan's chest.

"We have come to speak with you, Hoof," Jakli said.

The Tadjik only grunted, and accepted a bowl of yogurt from the woman.

"He knows sheep," the woman said, as if Hoof needed to be defended. "Most of the dogs like him." Even more dogs had appeared when the meal began. Shan counted seven and wondered how many more might still be in the shadows. If herders couldn't make their family of children, they made a family of their dogs.

When Hoof sat beside Shan, he thought nothing of it. But as the man gulped down his food, Shan noticed the nervous way he looked at Jakli. The woman poured the last of the tea and five minutes later, as he turned his head back from watching the rising moon, Shan discovered that only Jakli and Hoof were left at the fire.

"It's a long way from anywhere," Shan observed.

"They have a radio," Hoof said, "to listen to music." He shrugged. "Mostly it doesn't work."

Jakli rose to push a stick into the fire. Shan saw that Hoof tensed his muscles as she moved, as if he thought she would hit him.

"Seems like a long time ago, when we were at Karachuk," Shan said.

"Seems like," Hoof agreed with a sigh, then he looked up and spoke hurriedly. "I came here straight away, like Marco said."

"We're not here for Marco."

The announcement seemed to confuse Hoof. His brow furrowed and he stared into the fire. He muttered a syllable Shan did not understand, and one of the mastiffs came and sat by him, watching Shan and Jakli.

"Xinjiang, it's a hard place," Shan said with a sigh. "People have to do a lot of things they don't want to do. If we had a choice we wouldn't do things that hurt other people."

"When I was young," Hoof said in a nervous, high-pitched voice, "my father had a herd of sheep. But the government took them away, they said no one could have private property. Now you can have private property but I don't have my sheep. Someone else has them. I looked for my sheep, in the market, but couldn't see them anywhere." His voice had a slow, confused quality to it. He was not the same insolent man Shan had seen at Karachuk. "I asked a Chinese in the city. He laughed, and said probably they were sent to Beijing to feed the Chairman."

An owl called.

"My mother died last year but she lived in Tadjikstan," he said morosely, referring to the independent Tadjik homeland. "They wouldn't give me papers to go bury her."

Papers. Hoof meant travel papers, to go over the border. "You mean, you went out with Marco."

"My brother did. Not with Marco," the Tadjik said with a glance to Jakli. "Little Marco. I offered to pay for him to go, but Little Marco paid him, because he was so good with the animals."

"Nikki," Jakli said, in a hushed, emotional tone. She glanced at Shan with a smile.

"Right," Hoof said. "Nikki." He looked at Jakli and cocked his head, as if remembering something. "He paid my brother to go on more caravans. I like that Nikki. He laughs good."

Jakli smiled again and stroked the head of Hoof's dog.

"But someone asked you about it later," Shan said. "Someone in a uniform." If Hoof had been stealing information about Americans from Karachuk, it must have been for Bao.

"Not a uniform," Hoof shot back, as though anxious to correct him. "I mean not at first. I wouldn't have done it if I had known who he was on that first day. I thought he was a merchant, looking for Western goods. I was in the market in Yoktian. He just wanted to know about getting out, about the safe way for some friends of his to go across. He gave me drinks. We walked around the market. He gave me new shoes, just because I saw them and liked them. Said maybe if we became good friends, he could get me some sheep. Even get me a job. I never had a Han friend. I thought maybe I should have one. I think you have to have one," he said, looking to Shan as though for confirmation, "if you want to be successful in our world." Shan remembered when they had first met, how Hoof had boasted that he had Chinese friends in order to impress Shan.

"Maybe later you found out he was a knob in disguise," Shan ventured.

"A big one," Hoof nodded with a haunted expression. "An officer. I didn't know until later, when he wore his uniform once to meet me on the highway."

"Bao Kangmei?" Shan asked.

Hoof looked up with surprise. "Not that bastard. The other one. The thin one with the bad skin."

Sui. Hoof meant he had been recruited by Sui.

Hoof looked into the fire. "I had known a knob once before. He owned a gas station, after ownership was allowed. He ordered all the knob cars to come for gas."

"Later, though," Shan suggested, "this officer wanted other things. To know about Lau and people close to Lau. About foreigners."

Hoof shrugged. "He said he was going to leave the knobs, go into business. Business, it's international. Sure, he needed to meet foreigners. Americans especially. He really wanted to see Americans and things Americans did. I gave him an empty can of American soda once from Karachuk and he paid me more money than I can make in a month herding sheep. An empty can," the Tadjik repeated incredulously.

The sheep were all asleep, around the edge of the camp, a soft grey carpet under the moon. Beyond them one of the mastiffs sat upright on a rock, facing the darkness beyond.

"So you took him some more things from the Americans."

"Not much. You stopped me."

"But then you left Karachuk. The same night. You were planning to leave anyway, when Marco sent you here. You were planning to meet your friend from the knobs," Shan suggested.

Hoof nodded. "There were two of them there. The knob and another, who wore dark glasses even though it was after sunset. They were sitting in a red car waiting for me, drinking beer. The one with the glasses took me for a ride in the car while the knob sat on a rock and drank. As he drives he says he could help me. Says he was going to be my new friend, and he gave me money, for nothing. He asked me what I wanted most. I said sheep, and he said no problem." Hoof looked up at Shan. "If he can get some sheep for me, my brother and I can start our own camp in the spring. My brother needs to meet my new friend. Don't work for the knobs, I told him. They don't pay you as much."

It seemed to have gotten much colder. Hoof was working for the Brigade now. Shan moved closer to the fire. "So that night when you left," he pressed. "You saw both of them. Your friend who drives the red truck. Near the highway. Late."

"My new friend said he didn't have much time. But he said he wanted me to watch something. Said here's what happens to people who try to take away your business. The knob with the bad skin, he was just standing there smiling, like it was all a joke when the gun was pointed at him. But bang, the one with the red car just pulled the trigger. In the heart, two times. I ran. I came here, because Marco had said so."

Shan looked into the burning embers. Hoof had been a witness, he had seen Ko Yonghong shoot the man with the pockmarked face, Lieutenant Sui. Then Hoof had disappeared, making Ko nervous. He wanted Hoof. But so did Bao. With Hoof on his side, Bao could destroy Ko. But how had Bao found out?