But even as the government continued its policy of denial, a number of whistle-blowers began contesting Beijing's numbers. On Tuesday a retired military hospital surgeon alleged that in one Beijing hospital there were more than 60 SARS patients and seven deaths from the disease. A local cadre from Shenzhen told Time that during an internal meeting last week, a city health official spoke of at least six deaths there so far while still publicly denying any cases. And in Shanghai, local doctors spoke of 14 cases at one hospital, while Dr. Li Aiwu of the Shanghai Pulmonary Hospital confirmed that seven foreigners were being treated for the disease—contradicting the city's previous claim that no foreigners were suspected of having SARS. "I guess that means I don't exist," jokes a middle-age Englishman who has been confined to its 14th-floor isolation ward for a week.

The Manchester native connects with the outside world by cell phone. "The care here is good, but I must admit I'm feeling a little cut off from the real world."

	Photo Essay: SARS Outbreak

China's continued obfuscation contributed to the U.S.'s issuing a travel advisory warning against nonessential trips to China. At about the same time, Malaysia barred all tourists from mainland China and Hong Kong. In Hong Kong, the government reacted to the continued increase in local SARS cases and criticism it had been slow in dealing with the disease by finally ordering household contacts of confirmed patients to stay in home quarantine. Travelers wishing to fly from Hong Kong's Chek Lap Kok airport would also have their temperature taken before they were allowed to board their flights. In the mainland, luxury-hotel occupancy in Shanghai has slipped from the usual overbooked 120% this time of year to 30%. High-level trips by former U.S. President George Bush, Singaporean Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong and a World Economic Forum event have been postponed or canceled. "The drop-off in visitors is worse than in 1989," grumbles a Shanghai foreign-affairs official, referring to the foreign exodus after the Tiananmen crackdown.

In a country where mass revolts have regularly paralyzed empires and regimes, the Communist Party is apprehensive about panicking the people. And now that China's booming economy is more dependent than ever on foreign investment—54% of Shanghai's industrial output, for instance, derives from foreign-owned or partially foreign-owned companies—the Party is doubly concerned about maintaining the appearance of stability. "Look at what happened in Hong Kong, where everybody's scared and wearing a mask," explains a senior aide to Shanghai's vice mayor, blaming the foreign media for stirring up jitters about the killer virus. "We don't want everyone to get panicked like that for no reason and destroy our economy." Furthermore, with the major May 1 holiday week rapidly approaching, local tourism officials are worried that the SARS scare will deter Chinese from traveling and spending their yuan.

China has a long history of not facing up to its medical problems. Prior to SARS, the country had been notoriously unwilling to publicly admit to its burgeoning aids epidemic. When news trickled out three years ago of tens of thousands of farmers in central China infected by hiv after selling blood to traffickers using tainted equipment, the government delayed more than a year before conceding the truth. Even then, Beijing insisted the virus contaminated only one tiny village in Henan province. Finally, in 2002, the Chinese leadership revised its hiv estimate from 30,000 cases to 1 million—in a single day. Similar night-and-fog tactics kept quiet an outbreak of food poisoning in the northeastern province of Liaoning last month, when three schoolchildren died and 3,000 were sickened after drinking tainted soy milk. Even with hundreds of students flocking to hospitals, local authorities denied for weeks that there was anything amiss.

Most doctors are too frightened of losing their jobs to tell the truth about such cover-ups. A doctor who told a TIME reporter that there were dozens of SARS cases being isolated in a tuberculosis ward at Beijing's No. 309 People's Liberation Army Hospital backed out of continuing the discussion, saying, "I'm embarrassed that I can't talk to you. I had really wanted to, but I'm young and I can't afford to lose my job." But other brave souls are finding the courage to speak out. Last week, in a case first reported by Time, retired military surgeon Jiang Yanyong alleged that at the same hospital there were 60 SARS cases and seven deaths, and that at the p.l.a.'s No. 301 Hospital (where nurse Zhang works) at least 10 doctors and nurses had contracted the disease from their patients. Jiang, who initially submitted his statement to the state TV channel cctv 4 but received no response, says he was spurred to report more accurate numbers because he was so dismayed that the Ministry of Health reported only 12 cases and three deaths in the capital in early April. According to Jiang, another military hospital, No. 302, admitted two SARS patients first diagnosed at No. 301 in early March just as Beijing was convening the politically sensitive National People's Congress. It was only after both patients had died, says Jiang, that health authorities called a meeting, but instead of instructing doctors on how to contain the disease through public-education campaigns, Jiang says medical officials told physicians they were "forbidden to publicize" the SARS deaths "in order to ensure stability."

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	Beijing's SARS Attack [April 8, 2003] Doctor and party member insists there are many more mainland cases than authorities report Doing Battle with the Bug [April 10, 2003] The latest outbreak in Hong Kong raises troubling new questions about Asia's killer virus The Politics of Disease [April 10, 2003] Why are some countries more successful in fighting SARS than others? Viewpoint: Cycle of Death [April 10, 2003] SARS is only the latest in a string of epidemics to emerge from southern China More Related Items | Search all issues of TIME Magazine