On Fire

There is piped in music sounding from somewhere. It has a soothing quality to it, a low background kind of pop. Not muzak. More like one of the remote participants has it running at their location. It doesn’t really bother him so he isn’t going to say anything about it, even though he’s trying to make a presentation to some thirty people.

  Zak looks around the room, a small lecture hall at Tsinghua University. It’s an AV room and has monitors strewn everywhere about. Those in the front he controls for his presentation today. Beyond the room, through its two-story glass walls, lies a spectacular view of the City of Beijing.

  “As many of you are probably aware, there still are about 10 million bicycles around and about in Beijing today. Not much different from 20 years ago, when twenty percent of Beijing residents were still riding. But twenty years before that almost eighty percent of the city’s residents were still using bicycles to get back and forth to work. The population of the City was half what it is today and car ownership was still in its infancy in China. Those days are long gone, and today we are barely hanging on to single digits for daily travel to work numbers in the City.”

  There’s a signal on one of the monitors to Zak’s left, followed by a bit of throat clearing. Zak lights up.

  “Yes?”

  “But doesn’t China still have the largest number of bike riders on the planet?”

  It’s Bogdan. Or rather Bog. Bog is on one of the remotes from Stanford and is obviously having a good time feeding Zak softballs. Other monitors stationed around the room have other remote attendees and some of these are Zak’s grad student friends from back home.

  “Absolutely! China still retains the largest share of the world’s bicyclists. That is not going to change anytime soon. The problem is not the number of options for getting to work. It’s that so many of those options are being stretched to their limit. Everyone here can attest to the unbelievable crowding on the subways and the dangerous pushing and shoving that has become standard during rush hours. A bike sharing program is vital in any world class city, as every transportation expert will tell you. So we’ve been looking at that.”

  He’s leaning against the back of the lectern with his arms folded across his chest, looking out across a dozen or so rows of gradually elevated rows of seating. It is a clear but chilly day out and the Beijing morning sun is streaming in harshly. The monitors to the right side of the room are a bit hard to read with all that light hitting them. There are maybe twenty-five students in attendance. Most of these are engineering students, both grad and undergrad, but a number are from other disciplines. Many are in his seminar class. Zak is a Stanford transportation engineering and economic development student sent to China as part of a group of US graduate students in the Sino-US Young Professionals in Science and Engineering Exchange Program. Tsinghua is known as China’s MIT, and Zak has been conducting his study in Beijing for over 2 months.

  “Excuse me, Mr., uh, Mr. Zak?”

  “And we have a question in the back?” Zak smiles and takes a look at his list. He is not really seeing anyone on the list that fits. This could be some kind of mystery person as far as he can tell.

  “You do not recognize me, Mr. Zak?”

  He is nonplussed. Who in the world could this be, with the phony accent and large sunglasses, some woman with her hair up in a crazy fashion. Zak is momentarily confused and keeps looking at his list for some help.

  “You see,” she says, taking off the glasses and dropping the phony accent, “How could you possibly not recognize me, your best friend in the world?”

  Zak has an easy laugh that comes quickly.

  “I apologize. Class, this is Miss Sofia Salas, lately of Palo Alto. Did we forget to sign up Sofie dear?”

  “Oh, please forgive me, Mr. Zak! I have been soooo busy, you know?” She starts trying to smooth down her out of control hair.

  “Perhaps Miss Sofie has an actual question to ask our presenter?” asks Kim, who is sitting in the right front of the room with a wry grin spread broadly across her face. She is tilted back in her seat to see Sofie’s monitor.

  “Is that Miss Scott? Why, how are you?”

  “I’m golden, Sofie. Thanks so much for dropping by!”

  Kim is beaming and he knows he’s been set up.

  “How’s Gilly?”

  She is asking after Sofie’s boyfriend, Guillermo Flores, an ex-military student at Stanford.

  “He’s great.”

  “Ladies! Perhaps another time.”

  “Another time? Really? I don’t know. What other time could that be? Gather ye roses while ye may.”

  Sofie might be taking this all a bit far, thought Zak.

  “Actually I do have a question Mr. Zak,” said Sofie, now twirling the oversized glasses in her fingers. “Where can I rent a bike in Beijing?”

  Zak gives Kim a look, signifying that he knows she has prepped Sofie with this.

  “That is indeed an excellent question, Sofie. Thank-you so very much.”

  He turns to the large screen directly behind him and touches the remote screen in his hand. Immediately a large map of the city is projected.

  “There are about 80,000 bicycles available for rent from 476 authorized outlets. The map shows the locations of these various outlets. Most are concentrated downtown and at major recreational centers around the city. Those downtown are mainly used by tourists.”

  He explains how he has analyzed the total trip reductions per zone based on typical usage numbers provided by the various outlets, and the impact that this has had in reducing congestion in places around the City of Beijing. He compares results with other major cities and projects the congestion reducing effects of applying similar programs elsewhere, with special attention to U.S. cities. The results are clearly highly applicable to virtually every kind of urban area. The presentation goes pretty well he thinks. The senior staff that attend seem pleased. He receives cordial applause and further questions from students coming up to him afterward. By the time he returns to his office with Kim there are numerous calls and emails waiting for him.

  One is from Rashida Bakkal, an Egyptian student. He pulls it up and punches the number, and in an instant Rashida is on, laughing.

  “Kim! Nice one, getting Sofie to do that. They got you. And right in the middle of your lecture too! Outstanding work! Outstanding! Could not have done any better myself. On second thought, maybe I could?”

  She shakes her head and her wavy black hair does a number, her smile measured in megawatts. Zak likes her for her ready for anything spirit.

  “You were a little surprised?” Kim asks, putting her arm around him.

  “She’s a goof. So are you.”

  He closes the distance and gives her a quick kiss.

  “I was surprised. I’m like who is this weird chick and what is she doing here?” says Rashida.

  “Ok guys. I’m giving you the room. Gotta get to work,” Rashida says as she flashes the interior of the bar around her. It is massive, high tech and elaborate: glass, chrome, and leather.

  “See you, Rash,” Kim returns.

  “Oops! There’s my boss!” And then she says, in a barely audible voice whispered very close to her phone, “What a jerk!”

  The screen darkens.

  “It’s Rashida’s planet, we’re only visitors. And who else have we got?” Kim asks.

  “Well, I believe it is Mr. Kamat! Shall we rock his world?”

  Arjun comes up, or rather his shock of thick black hair does, followed by his smiling face.

  “Artie! How’s it hangin’ man?”

  Artie has black glasses and he pushes them up.

  “Kim! This is a treat! How are you doing?”

  “Good, Artie, good. How ‘bout you?”

  “Missing you sweetheart,” says Art despondently.

  “Awwwhh.”

  Artie brightens.

  “How about this guy? Who knew he was so brilliant?”


  While they continue to chat with Artie, Zak pulls up on email from Asobi Shimada, another friend of theirs who sat in on the lecture from back at Stanford. Asobi tells him that she enjoyed the lecture, but who was that crazy lady?

  Chapter 5