Ice and Fire: Chung Kuo Series (37 page)

He saw Pavel was watching him and laughed. ‘What is it, boy?’

Pavel looked down. ‘You think life’s simple here, don’t you? But let me tell you about
my birth.’

‘Go on,’ said Chen softly, noting the sudden change in him. It was as if Pavel had
shed a mask. As if the experience they had shared, beneath the fourth west bridge,
had pared a skin
from the young man, making him suddenly more vulnerable, more open.

‘I had a hard childhood,’ he began. ‘I was born the fifth child of two casual workers.
Hirelings – like yourself – who come on the land only at harvest time. During
the harvest things were fine. They could feed me. But when it was time to go back
to the City, they left me here in the fields to die. Back in the levels they could
not afford me, you understand.
It is often so, even today. People here accept it as the way. Some say the new seed
must be fertilized with the bones of young children. I, however, did not die.’

Pavel licked at his lips, then carried on, his downcast eyes staring back into the
past.

‘Oh, I had nothing to do with it.
Mei fa tzu
, they say. It is fate. And my fate was to be found by a childless woman and taken
in. I was lucky. She was a good woman. A Han. Chang Lu
was her name. For a time things were good. Her man, Wen, never took to me, but at
least he didn’t beat me or mistreat me, and she loved me as her own. But when I was
seven they died. A dyke
collapsed on top of them while they were repairing it. And I was left alone.’

Pavel was silent a moment, then he looked up, a sad smile lighting his face briefly.

‘I missed her bitterly. But bitterness does not fill the belly. I had to work, and
work hard. There is never quite enough, you see. Each family takes care of its own.
But I had no family.
And so I strove from dawn until dusk each day, carrying heavy loads out into the fields,
the long, thick carrying pole pressing down on my shoulders, bending my back until
I became as you see me
now.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘It was necessity that shaped me thus, you might say,
Kao Chen. Necessity and the dark earth of Chung Kuo.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Chen began. ‘I didn’t know…’ But Pavel interrupted him once more.

‘There’s something else.’ The young man hesitated, then shivered and went on. ‘It’s
the way you look at us, Kao Chen. I noticed it before. But now I think I
understand. It’s like we’re a dream to you, isn’t it? Not quite real. Something picturesque…’

Chen was about to say no, to tell the boy that it was just the opposite – that all
of
this
was real, and all the rest, inside, no more than a hideous dream to which he must
return
– but Pavel was looking at him strangely, shaking his head; denying him before he
had begun.

‘Maybe,’ he said finally, setting his jug down. But he still meant no. He had only
to close his eyes and feel the movement of the air on his cheeks…

‘You came at the best time,’ Pavel said, looking away from him, back towards the dancers.
‘Just now the air smells sweet and the evenings are warm. But the winters are hard
here. And the stench sometimes…’

He glanced back at Chen then laughed, seeing incomprehension there.

‘What do you think the City does with all its waste?’

Chen sipped at his beer, then shrugged. ‘I’d never thought…’

Pavel turned, facing him again. ‘No. No one ever does. But think of it. Over thirty
billion, they say. So much shit. What do they do with it?’

Chen saw what he was saying and began to laugh. ‘You mean… ?’

Pavel nodded. ‘They waste none of it. Its stored in vast wells and used on the fields.
You should see it, Kao Chen. Vast, lake-like reservoirs of it, there are. Imagine!’
He laughed
strangely, then looked away. ‘In a week from now the fields will be dotted with honey-carts,
each with its load of sweet dark liquid to deposit on the land. Black gold, they call
it. Without
it the crop would fail and Chung Kuo itself would fall.’

‘I always thought…’

Chen stopped and looked across. The dull murmur of talk had fallen off abruptly; the
music faltered and then died. He searched among the figures, suddenly alert, then
saw them. Guards! The
Overseer’s guards were in the square!

Pavel had turned and was staring at him, fear blazing in his eyes. ‘It’s Teng!’ he
said softly. ‘They must have found Teng!’

‘No…’ Chen shook his head and reached out to touch the young man’s arm to calm him.
No, not Teng. But maybe something worse.

The guards came through, then stood there in a rough line behind their leader, a tall
Hung Mao
.

‘Who’s that?’ whispered Chen.

‘That’s Peskova. He’s Bergson’s lieutenant.’

‘Gods… I wonder what he wants?’

It was quiet now. Only the crackle of the fires broke the silence. Peskova looked
about him, then took a handset from his tunic pocket, pressed for display and began
to read from it.

‘By the order of Overseer Bergson, I have a warrant for the arrest of the following
men…’

Chen saw the guards begin to fan out amongst the peasants, pushing through the crowd
roughly, their guns in front of them, searching for the faces of those Peskova was
naming, and wondered
whether he should run, taking his chance. But as the list of names went on, he realized
Tong Chou was not amongst them.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked Pavel.

‘I don’t know. But they all seem to be friends of Field Supervisor Sung and his wife.
Maybe they forced him to make a list before they killed him.’

Chen watched the guards gather the fifteen named men together and begin to lead them
away, then looked about him, realizing how quickly the shadow had fallen once again.

‘An hour,’ he said softly, more to himself than to Pavel. ‘If they can only wait an
hour.’

The bodies lay heaped up against the wall. They were naked and lay as they had fallen.
Some still seemed to climb the barrier of stone, their bodies stretched and twisted,
their limbs contorted. Others had knelt, bowing to their murderers, facing the inevitability
of death. Chen looked about him, sickened by the sight. Pavel stood beside him, breathing
noisily.
‘Why?’ he asked after a moment. ‘In the gods’ names, why? What had they done?’

Chen turned and looked to his left. The moon was high, a half-moon part obscured by
cloud. Beneath it, like the jagged shadow of a knife, the Overseer’s House rose from
the great plain.
Where are you?
thought Chen, searching the sky.
Where the fuck are you?
It was so unlike Karr.

It was two hours since the arrests. Two hours and still no sign of them. But even
if they had come a half hour early it would have been too late to save these men.
All fifteen were dead. They
had all heard it, standing there about the guttering fires. Heard the shots ring out
across the fields. Heard the screams and then the awful silence afterwards.

‘Peskova,’ Pavel said, bending down and gently touching the arm of one of the dead
men. ‘It was Peskova. He always hated us.’

Chen turned back, staring down at the boy, surprised, realizing what he was saying.
Pavel thought of himself as Han. When he said ‘us’ he didn’t mean the peasants, the
ko
who worked the great ten thousand
mou
squares, but the Han.
Yes
, he thought,
but DeVore is the hand behind this. It was he who gave permission. And I will kill
him.
T’ang’s orders or no, I will kill him now for what he’s done.

He looked back. There was a shadow against the moon. As he watched it passed, followed
a moment later by a second.

‘Quickly, Pavel,’ he said, hurrying forward. ‘They’ve come.’

The four big Security transporters set down almost silently in the fields surrounding
the Overseer’s House. Chen ran to greet the nearest of them, expecting Karr, but it
wasn’t the
big man who jumped down from the strut, it was Hans Ebert.

‘Captain Ebert,’ he said, bowing, bringing his hand up to his chest in salute, the
movement awkward, unpractised. Ebert, the ‘Hero of Hammerfest’ and heir to the giant
GenSyn corporation, was the last officer Chen had expected.

‘Kao Chen,’ Ebert answered him in a crisp, businesslike fashion, ignoring the fact
of Chen’s rank. ‘Are they all inside the house?’

Chen nodded, letting the insult pass. ‘As far as I know, sir. The Overseer’s craft
is still on the landing pad, so I assume DeVore is in there.’

Ebert stared across the fields towards the house, then turned back to him, looking
him up and down. He gave a short, mocking laugh. ‘The costume suits you, Kao Chen.
You should become a
peasant!’

‘Sir!’ He tried to keep the sourness from his voice, but it was hard. He knew instinctively
that Ebert was the reason for the delay. He could imagine him waiting until he had
finished dining. Or whoring, maybe. He had heard such tales of him. Karr would never
have done that. Karr would have been there when he’d said.

Men jumped down from the craft behind Ebert. Special unit guards, their hands and
faces blacked up. One of them came over to Ebert and handed him a clipboard.

Chen recognized him from the old newscasts about the Hammerfest massacre. It was Ebert’s
chief lieutenant, Auden.

Ebert studied the board a moment, then looked up at Chen again. ‘You know the layout
of the Overseer’s House?’

Chen bowed his head. ‘I do, sir.’

‘Good. Then you can play scout for us, Kao Chen. Auden here will be in command, but
you’ll take them in, understand?’

Chen kept his head lowered. ‘Forgive me, Captain, but I am unarmed.’

‘Of course…’ Ebert reached down and drew the ten-shot handgun from his holster. ‘Here.’

Chen took the weapon and stared at it in disbelief. ‘Forgive me, sir. But they’ve
automatics and lasers in there.’

Ebert was looking at him coldly. ‘It’s all you’ll need.’

Chen hesitated, wondering how far to push it, when Ebert barked at him.

‘Are you refusing my orders, Kao Chen?’

In answer, Chen bowed to the waist, then turned to Auden. ‘Come. We’d best move quickly
now.’

Halfway across the field a figure came towards them. Auden stopped, raising his gun,
but Chen put a hand out to stop him.

‘It’s all right,’ he said urgently. ‘I know him. He’s a friend.’

Auden lowered his gun. The figure came on, until he stood only a few paces from them.
It was Pavel.

‘What do you want?’ Chen asked.

‘I want to come with you.’

He had found himself a hoe and held it tightly. There was anger in his twisted face.
Anger and an awful, urgent need.

‘No,’ said Chen after a moment. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

‘I know. But I want to.’

Chen turned and looked at Auden, who shrugged. ‘It’s his neck, Lieutenant Kao. He
can do what he likes. But if he gets in our way we’ll shoot him, understand?’

Chen looked back at Pavel. The young man smiled fiercely, then nodded. ‘Okay. I understand.’

‘Good,’ said Auden. ‘Then let’s get into position. The other squad is going in five
minutes from now.’

They waited in the shadows at the bottom of the ramp, the main door to the house above
them. The windows of the house were dark, as if the men inside were asleep, but Chen,
crouched there,
staring up at the great three-tiered pagoda, knew they would be awake, celebrating
the night’s events. He watched the vague shadows of the assault troops climbing the
ropes high overhead,
nursing his anger, knowing it would not be long now.

Pavel was crouched beside him in the darkness. Chen turned and whispered to him. ‘Keep
close to me, Pavel. And don’t take risks. They’re killers.’

Pavel’s mouth sought his ear. ‘I know.’

They waited. Then, suddenly, the silence was broken. With a loud crash the assault
troops swung through the windows of the second tier. It was the signal to go in. Chen
leapt up onto the ramp
and began to run toward the door, his handgun drawn, Pavel, Auden and his squad close
behind.

He was only ten
ch
’
i
or so from the door when it slid back suddenly, spilling light.

‘Down!’ he yelled as the figure in the doorway opened fire. But it was only a moment
before the man fell back, answering fire from behind Chen ripping through his chest.

There were shouts from within, then two more men appeared, their automatics stuttering.
Chen watched them fall, then scrambled up and ran for the door.

He stood in the doorway, searching the first room at a glance, the handgun following
each movement of his eyes. As he’d thought, the three men had been the duty squad.
Close by the door a
table had been upset and
mah jong
tiles lay scattered about the floor. He stepped over the dead man and went inside.

Up above there was the sound of further shots, then a burst of automatic fire. Chen
turned, nodding to Auden as the veteran came into the room, pleased to see Pavel,
unharmed, behind him in the
doorway.

‘They’ll defend the stairwell,’ Chen said quietly, pointing to the door at the far
end of the room. ‘There’s a second guardpost at the top, then DeVore’s
offices beyond that.’

‘Right.’ Auden went across and stood by the doorway, forming his squad up either side
of it. He tried the door. It was unlocked.

Chen took Pavel’s arm. ‘Here,’ he said, drawing him aside. ‘Let them do this. It’s
what they’re trained for.’

Pavel stared back at him. ‘And you, Kao Chen? You’re one of them? A lieutenant?’

Chen nodded, then turned in time to see Auden tug the door aside and crouch there,
the big automatic blazing in his lap.

The noise was deafening. There was a moment’s silence, then four of the squad moved
past him, climbing the stairs quickly. But they were only halfway up when the firing
began again, this
time from above.

Chen started forward, but Auden was already in charge. He was climbing the stairs
over his fallen men, his gun firing ceaselessly, picking off anything that dared show
itself up above.