Robert Neville, TIME'S Bureau Chief in Hong Kong, runs a listening postan ear trumpet on Red China's coast. His job is to pick up each rumble and whisper from the mainland. He hears plenty of both.
Hong Kong is the neutral way station, the communications center, for almost any traveler, whatever his mission, who skirts the edge of China or passes through Mao's bamboo curtain. Onto the British-held island and peninsula pour refugees from the Communist Utopia-in-reverse, agents and opportunists playing their own cautious angles; through its postage-stamp airfield and its busy railway station...
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