Daylight on Iron Mountain (33 page)

Meng indicated to Jake to take a seat.

‘So?’ Jake asked. ‘What’s happening?’

Meng smiled. ‘I went to see Judge Yo. Privately, you understand.’

‘But I thought…’ Jake stopped. ‘Go on…’

‘You understand then. I told him you weren’t interested in a deal.’

‘And what did he say to that?’

‘He said he might be forced to rule for the Changs. Which is when I threatened him. I told him I’d let the dogs loose on him. To which he said he’d hold me in contempt, only I threatened him some more. I told him that I’d uncover enough evidence to drag him down to join the very lowest of the low. To which he told me to go to hell.’ Advocate Meng paused. ‘I’d guess they’re paying him a small fortune.’

‘Can they afford that?’

‘The question is, can they afford
not
to? Think about it, Jake. What would you be down if you lost this case?’

‘Five thousand a month. Six, maybe, depending on the ruling.’

‘Per month for the rest of your life. Well, multiply that by ten thousand or so and you get a rough idea of the stakes involved. It’s tens of millions, Jake.
Payable month after month. Just think what that would mean to them, not having to find that kind of money.’

‘So what’s next?’

‘We meet tomorrow morning, in court, to try to resolve things.’

‘Isn’t that just back to square one?’

‘If square one is at the top and to the left, rather than down the bottom and to the right, then yes. All we need is your agreement, Jake.’

‘Which you have. But I don’t see…’

Meng smiled. ‘You want to know the truth, Jake? The truth is, I don’t know either. You see, I won’t be in charge of things tomorrow.’

Jake looked about him. They all seemed amused by something.

‘
What?
’

Meng smiled. ‘Let’s not spoil it for you. Let’s worry about all that tomorrow, neh? I’ve just one question.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘What’ll you have to drink? Oh, and don’t worry. It’s on the firm. It’s
all
on the firm.’

The new room Alison had found him was spacious, bordering on the luxurious. It had executive class stamped on everything, and Jake knew it must have cost GenSyn a small fortune. Tired and slightly drunk, he set his bag down. Then, plumping down on the huge double bed, he asked to be connected to Mary.

‘Hiya,’ he said, as her image appeared on the big screen facing him. ‘Is everything all right?’

She smiled. ‘Your friends were as good as their word, Jake. We’ve got two armed guards outside, and they’ve given me a number to call if I need any more.’ She laughed. ‘I just don’t know how you managed it.’

‘Look, I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. I just wanted to let you know that things are going well. In fact, there’s a good chance it’ll all be settled tomorrow.’

‘
Tomorrow?
’

‘So I’m told.’

‘Oh gods, let’s hope so, eh?’ She hesitated, then, ‘Jake…?’

‘Yes, my love?’

‘This woman… this Alison… she’s the one I met, right, after the GenSyn accident?’

‘That’s her.’

‘Then…?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he said. ‘When I’m home. But don’t worry. It’s all going to work out fine, okay?’

Mary hesitated, then gave a little nod. ‘Okay. And Jake…?’

‘Yes?’

‘I miss you. So keep safe, huh?’

He smiled. ‘I shall.’

Dreams. Dreams of the last day before it began. Dreams of Hugo and Chris and Jenny, sitting about the big wooden table in his penthouse apartment, looking out across the river at Hinton and the massed skyscrapers of the City. His dear friends laughing and joking, the deathly pallor of their faces laced with dark, thread-like scars, their eye sockets burned black from the torturer’s poker.

Laughing and talking about Drew Ludd and Ubik, while at the far end of the table sat the Jory avatar, its shovel-like teeth bared in a ferocious smile.

Dreams? Nightmares, more like.

Jake woke, his heart racing, his body sheened in sweat, the screen just across from him murmuring its low-volume commentary on the world.

Poor bastards
, he thought.
Their only crime was to know me.

He lay there a while, letting his heartbeat slow, the sense of panic diminish. But at some deeper level he knew that it was all happening again. That for the third time in his life, it was all about to change.

Jake got up, padded across to the bathroom and stood there, peeing, wondering whether he should call Mary and check everything was all right.

He was sure it was. Sure that GenSyn would have called had anything gone wrong. Only if
he
had been organizing things for the Changs he’d have taken Mary and the kids and held them until he’d got his way. That is, until he had a signature.

Jake went back through. On the big screen everything seemed fine and calm. In the warm glow of the bedside lamp, the room seemed a perfect haven.

All’s well in the half-life universe.

Only he knew it wasn’t. Because that was what the dream meant. That was why
he
was there, in the dream: the Jory avatar, looking on and laughing at them all.

Jake shivered, chilled to the bone by the thought, then climbed between the sheets, praying sleep would come.

L
i Chao Ch’in reined in his horse and waited for his sons to catch him, looking about him at the wild, uncultivated terrain.

If one looked to north or east, the land was beautiful, framed as it was by the distant mountains of the Ta Pa Shan, but to the west, far away, hidden by the early morning mist, was the City, its pearled whiteness sepulchral.

Lord Li took a long, calming breath, then reached down to pat the flank of his mount, a grey he had bought from Fan Chang’s stables just a year ago.

They had been riding hard this last half hour, stretching their horses, plunging across shallow streams and through hidden, mist-wreathed valleys. They were pushing north, climbing all the while as the sun rose to their right in a clear blue sky, coming finally to this place. As a boy, his own father, a senior Party member then, had often brought him here.

Close by, on the crest of the hill, were the ruins of an ancient Buddhist temple. Built in the time of the Sung dynasty, the great three-tiered building had been badly damaged by the Red Guards during the Cultural Revolution, its roof tiles broken, its statuary smashed. Even so, it retained a great deal of its original beauty, its timeless elegance and serenity.

The ruins lay at the very edge of his estate, fifteen
li
north of the palace of Tongjiang. Inaccessible by road, Li Chao Ch’in did not come here very often, only today he had needed somewhere safe. Somewhere that he knew he would not be seen by watchful eyes, overheard by prying ears. Somewhere in which he could talk openly with his sons.

And here they came, spurring their horses up the slope. The eldest, Li Peng, leading the way on his jet-black Arab, dressed in a bright blue silk, his five brothers following close behind, their heads bared, their dark hair flowing back in the wind.

Seeing them, Li Chao Ch’in felt his heart swell with pride. A man never had six such fine sons as his. Tall and strong they were – intelligent, handsome young men. He watched them approach, noting how they, like he, wore white trimmings on their arms and legs, in mourning for their cousin Fan.

The mere sight of them made his heart ache.

Had Tsao Ch’un had such sons there would have been no problem. He might have handed over power to them, letting them rule in his stead, like pillars of the finest jade, the future of Chung Kuo guaranteed by their mere existence.

And then today would not have come.

Only he hadn’t. Tsao Ch’un, blessed by the gods in war, had been cursed in love. As a younger man he had been married to three wives, and each had given him one living son before they succumbed, either to illness or assassination. And recently, when he had married once more, in his ‘dotage’, again he had been undone, his new wives – each a treasure – murdered in his bed.

Li Chao Ch’in looked down. How had it ever come to this? What sickness had overtaken their Master to have made him do what he did?

Yes, and what was Tsao Ch’un doing at that moment? What was he thinking? Was he scheming, even then, to undo them all?

His six sons slowed their horses, forming a half circle just below him on the grassy hillside. Li Chao Ch’in sighed. He did not want to fight Tsao Ch’un. His instinct was to serve, not to oppose, but what choice had he?

‘My sons…’

He looked from one to another, meeting their eyes briefly. Their horses steamed beneath them, snorting after their long ride, yet each one kept its place, obedient to its master’s will.

Things had moved too far, too fast. For the first time in his life he had no answers.

‘My darling boys…’

His eyes settled on his youngest, Li Chang So, fifteen only last month, yet fully grown. Six two in his leggings, he was, and his mother’s favourite. Her
‘baby boy’ as she called him. Yet her baby looked quite fierce today.

He looked away, conscious of how patiently they waited for him to say what must be said, their heads slightly bowed, their whole demeanour showing the utmost respect, the utmost obedience to his will. Like the mounts they rode.

Good sons. The very best of sons.

Only this once, and maybe only this once, he could not ask for their blind obedience, for obedience itself was in question here. He needed to hear what they had to say. For this did not affect him alone. This affected them all. It would not be fair to make this choice without first sounding them out.

‘I have brought you here this morning because we must come to a decision. You all know what has happened. To say it was a shock understates the matter… but it is done, neh? And we must live in the ruins of that act.’

He looked to his eldest.

‘Li Peng and I have already spoken of this. Of what might lie ahead. It barely needs saying, yet I must ask you what I asked him. What might we do to rectify matters, short of war? And if war
is
our only option, then how do we go about that? After all, we are peace-loving men. The very notion of committing violence against our Master…’

One or two of them looked down at that. The sight of it sobered Li Chao Ch’in. It was not just he, then, who was terrified of the prospect of fighting Tsao Ch’un. Yes, he could see it now in their eyes.

‘Li Chang So?’

The boy looked to him, meeting his father’s eyes, a rock-like certainty in his own, young as he was.

‘I will do what must be done, Father.’

‘And you, Li Kuang? Have you anything to say?’

Kuang, his fifth son, eighteen now, hesitated. Then, in a rush: ‘Had he merely burned Cousin Fan’s palace… had he stopped there…’

Li Chao Ch’in nodded. Those were precisely his thoughts. To punish them was one thing – and who knew, maybe they even deserved it for harbouring such thoughts as they’d had – but to
kill
them…

‘Li Shen?’

His second son, who was built like an ox and sometimes seemed as slow, this time was quick to answer.

‘We must kill him, Father. Before he kills us.’

‘Ah…’ Li Chao Ch’in made to answer, only Li Shen had not finished. He spoke again.

‘The only question, Father, is how we go about it. We are unprepared. But then so is he.’

Li Chao Ch’in stared back at him, surprised.

‘How so?’

‘If Tsao Ch’un had a plan, we’d be dead already. No… the Great One’s actions have smacked thus far of carelessness. There is no great master plan behind this, only a wilful disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own.’

It was true. But though things had been wrong for some time now, the Seven had never met to discuss what they would do in these circumstances, never drawn up a plan to deal with it. Why, to even
begin
to think of it… that surely would have been the ultimate disloyalty.

Until now the thought of usurping Tsao Ch’un had never occurred to them. They had, until these last few days, been his most loyal supporters – his most trusted men – but that had changed.

War was, he knew, inevitable. Yet still he would postpone it.

And meanwhile?

Tsao Ch’un, he knew, would pre-empt them. Unprepared as perhaps he was, the great man knew enough about waging wars to beat them with the minimum of effort. And if that were so…

‘Perhaps I should seek an audience with him,’ he said, tentatively, not sure what reaction he would get. ‘Prostrate myself and offer up my life if he would spare you all…’

There was a strong murmur of protest, but it was Li Fu Jen, his third son, who answered him. He leaned forward in his saddle as he did, his face dark with anger.

‘
Never!
Why, I would rather have my eyes gouged out, my body cut open and my organs burned before me on a grill, than kowtow to that man! Forgive me, Father, but the man has lost any right to our respect! What he did… first at my brother Peng’s party, and now at Fan Chang’s palace… it is intolerable! There is only one choice, to fight him to the death! And if we die… we at least did not grovel on our knees before the tyrant!’