The White Mountain (27 page)

Li Yuan stood at the window, letting himself be dressed. Outside the garden lay half in shadow, half in light, the dew-misted top leaves of the nearby rhododendron bushes glittering in the dawn's first light. He held himself still as the maid drew the sashes tight about his waist, then turned, facing his Master of the Inner Chambers.

‘And have you no idea what they want, Master Chan?'

Chan Teng bowed low. ‘None at all,
Chieh Hsia
. Only that the Marshal said it was of the utmost urgency. That I was to wake you if you were not awake already.'

Li Yuan turned away, hiding the smile that came to his lips at the thought of Tolonen's bluntness. Even so, he felt a ripple of trepidation run down his spine.

They were waiting in his study. Impatient to hear what had happened, he crossed the room quickly and stood before them.

‘Well, Knut? What is it?'

Tolonen held out a file. Li Yuan took it and flicked it open. After a moment he looked up, giving a small, strange laugh. ‘How odd. Only last night, I dreamed of dragonflies. And now this…' He studied Tolonen a moment, his eyes narrowed. ‘But why show me this? It's nasty, certainly, but it is hardly the kind of thing to wake a T'ang about, surely?'

Tolonen bowed his head, acceding the point. ‘In ordinary circumstances that would be so,
Chieh Hsia
. But this is a matter of the utmost importance. The beginning of something we would do well to take very seriously indeed.'

‘So what makes this different?'

Nan Ho lowered his head again. ‘This,
Chieh Hsia
.'

Li Yuan set the file down on a nearby chair, then took the pamphlet from his Chancellor. It was a single large sheet that had been folded into four, the ice-paper no more than a few mols thick, the print poor, uneven. He realized at once that it had been hand set; that whoever had produced this had wanted to avoid even the slightest chance of being traced through the computer network.

He shrugged. ‘It's interesting, but I still don't understand.'

Nan Ho smiled tautly. ‘Forgive me,
Chieh Hsia
, but it is not so much the pamphlet as the numbers in which it has been distributed. It's hard to estimate exactly how many copies went out, but latest Security estimates place it at between a quarter of a billion and a billion.'

Li Yuan laughed. ‘Impossible! How would they print that number? How distribute them? Come to that, how on earth would they finance it?'

And yet he saw how grave the old man looked.

‘This is something new,
Chieh Hsia
. Something dangerous. Which is why we must deal with it at once. That is why I came. To seek your permission to make the elimination of this new group our number one priority.'

Li Yuan stared at his Marshal a moment, then turned away. A billion pamphlets. If that were true it was certainly something to be concerned about. But was Tolonen right to be so worried, or was he overreacting? He went to his desk and sat, considering things.

‘What is Major Karr doing right now?'

Tolonen smiled. ‘Karr is on their trail already,
Chieh Hsia
. I put him in charge of investigating the murder of the
Hsien L'ing
, Shou Chen-hai.'

‘And?'

Tolonen shook his head. ‘And nothing, I'm afraid. Our investigations have so far drawn a blank.'

‘All right. But I want Karr in charge, Knut, and I want a daily report on my desk concerning any and every development. You will make sure he gets whatever resources he needs.'

‘Of course,
Chieh Hsia
.'

He watched Tolonen go, then turned his attention to his Chancellor.

‘Was there something else?'

The Chancellor hesitated, as if weighing something up, then came forward, taking a small package from within his robes and offering it to his T'ang, his head lowered, his eyes averted. ‘I was not certain whether to give this to you,
Chieh Hsia
.'

Li Yuan took the package, smiling, then felt his breath catch in his throat. There was the faintest scent from the silk. The scent of
mei hua
. Of plum blossom.

‘Thank you, Nan Ho. I…'

But the Chancellor had already gone. Even as Li Yuan looked up, the
door was closing on the far side of the room.

He sat back, staring at the tiny package on his desk. It was from her. From Fei Yen. Though there were no markings on the wrapping, he knew no other would have used that scent. No one else would have used his Chancellor as a messenger.

He shuddered, surprised by the intensity of what he felt. Then, leaning forward, his hand trembling, he began to unfasten the wrappings, curious and yet afraid of what was inside.

There was a note, and beneath the note a tiny tape. He unfolded it and read the brief message, then lifted the tape gingerly, his eyes drawn to the gold-leaf pictograms embossed into the black of the casing.
Han Ch'in
, they read. His son.

He swallowed, then closed his eyes. What did she want? Why was she doing this to him? For a moment he closed his hand tightly on the tiny cassette, as if to break it, then loosened his grip. No. He would have to see it. Suddenly he realized just how much he had wanted to go to the estate at Hei Shui and simply stand there, unobserved, watching his child at play.

Even so, the question still remained. What did she want? He went to the long window. Already the sun was higher, the shadows on the eastern lawn much shorter. He breathed deeply, watching the sunlight flicker on the surface of the pond, then shook his head. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she didn't understand what power she had over him, even now. Maybe it
was
a simple act of kindness…

He laughed quietly. No. Whatever it was, it wasn't that. Or not simply that. He turned, looking across at the tape, the note, then turned back again, staring outward. Whatever, it would have to wait. Right now he must prepare himself, clearing his mind of everything but the struggle ahead. Tonight, after Council, he could relax; might let himself succumb to his weakness. But not before. Not until he had dealt with Wang Sau-leyan.

He sighed and turned from the window, making his way back to his rooms and the waiting maids.

Out on the pond, in the early morning light, a dragonfly hovered over the water, its wings flickering like molten sunlight, its body a bright iridescent green.

Chapter 73

IN A DARKENED EYE

I
t was just after seven in the morning, but in the Black Heart business was brisk. At the huge centre table a crowd of men pressed close, taking bets on the two tiny contestants crouched in the tight beam of the spotlight.

They were mantises, brought up from the Clay, their long, translucent bodies raised threateningly, switchblade forelegs extended before their tiny, vicious-looking heads as they circled slowly. To Chen, watching from the edge of the crowd, it was an ugly, chilling sight. He had seen men – Triad gangsters – behave in this manner, their every movement suggestive of a deadly stillness. Men whose eyes were dead, who cared only for the perfection of the kill. Here, in these cold, unsympathetic creatures, was their model; the paradigm of their behaviour. He shuddered. To model oneself on such a thing – what made a man reduce himself so much?

As he watched, the larger of the creatures struck out, its forelegs moving in a blur as it tried to catch and pin its opponent. There was a roar of excitement from the watching men, but the attack faltered, the smaller mantis struggling free. It scuttled back, twitching, making small, answering feints with its forelegs.

Chen looked about him, sickened by the glow of excitement in every face, then came away, returning to the table in the corner.

‘So what's happened?'

Karr looked up from the map, smiling wearily. ‘It's gone cold. And this
time even our Triad friends can't help us.'

Chen leaned across, putting his finger down where the map was marked with a red line – a line that ended abruptly at the entrance to the stack in which the Black Heart was located. ‘We've tracked them this far, right? And then there's nothing. It's a white-out, right?'

Karr nodded. ‘The cameras were working, but the storage system had been tampered with. There was nothing on record but white light.'

‘Right. And there's no trace of either of them coming out of this stack, correct? The records have been checked for facial recognition?'

Again Karr nodded.

‘Then what else remains? No one broke the seals and went down to the Net, and no one got out by flyer. Which means they
must
be here.'

Karr laughed. ‘But they're not. We've searched the place from top to bottom and found nothing. We've taken the place apart.'

Chen smiled enigmatically. ‘Which leaves what?'

Karr shrugged. ‘Maybe they were ghosts.'

Chen nodded. ‘Or maybe the images on the tape were. What if someone tampered with the computer storage system down the line?' He traced the red line back with his finger, stopping at the point where it took a sixtydegree turn. ‘What if our friends turned off earlier? Or went straight on? Have we checked the records from the surrounding stacks?'

‘I've done it. And there's nothing. They just disappeared.'

At the gaming table things had changed dramatically. Beneath the spotlight's glare the smaller mantis seemed to be winning. It had pinned the larger creature's forelegs to the ground, trapping it, but it could not take advantage of its position without releasing its opponent. For a long time it was still, then, with a suddenness that surprised the hushed watchers, it moved back, meaning to strike at once and cripple its enemy. But the larger beast had waited for that moment. The instant it felt the relentless pressure of the other's forelegs lapse, it snapped back, springing up from the floor, its back legs powering it into the smaller insect. The snap of its forelegs was followed instantly by the crunch of its opponent's brittle flesh. It was over. The smaller mantis was dead.

For a moment they looked across, distracted by the uproar, then Karr turned back, his blue eyes filled with doubt. ‘Come… there's nothing here.'

They were getting up as a messenger came across; one of the Triad men
they had met earlier. Bowing, he handed Karr a sheet of computer printout – a copy of a Security report timed at 4.24 a.m.

Karr studied it a moment, then laughed. ‘Just when I thought it had died on us. Look, Chen! Look what the gods have sent us!'

Chen took the printout. It was a report on a new terrorist attack. On a place called the Dragonfly Club. The details were sketchy, but one fact stood out – a computer face-recognition match. Chen stared at Karr. ‘It's the woman! Chi Li, or whatever her name is!'

‘Yes,' Karr laughed, his gloom dispelled for the first time in two days. ‘So let's get there, neh? Before the trail goes cold.'

Ywe Hao woke, her heart pounding, and threw back the sheet. Disoriented, she sat up, staring about her. What in the gods' names…?

Then she saw it – the winking red light of the warning circuit. Its high-pitched alarm must have woken her. She spun about, looking to see what time it was: 7.13. She had been asleep less than an hour.

Dressing took fifteen seconds, locating and checking her gun another ten. Then she was at the door, breathing deeply, preparing herself, as the door slid slowly back.

The corridor was empty. She walked quickly, her gun held out before her, knowing they would have to use this corridor.

At the intersection she slowed, hearing footsteps, but they were from the left. The warning had come from her friends – the two boys at the lift – which meant her assailants would be coming from that direction; from the corridor directly ahead. She put the gun away and let the old man pass, then went to the right, breaking into a run, heading for the inter-level steps.

There was urgent whispering in the corridor behind her at the intersection. She flattened herself against the wall, holding her breath. Then the voices were gone, heading towards her apartment.

Vasska's brother, Edel. She was certain of it.

She was eight, nine steps up the flight when she remembered the case. She stopped, annoyed with herself. But there hadn't been time. If she'd stopped to dig it out from the back of the cupboard she would have lost valuable seconds. Would have run into them in the corridor. Even so, she couldn't leave it there. The dossier on the raid was in it.

A group of Han students passed her on the steps, heading for their morning classes, their sing-song chatter filling the stairwell briefly. Then she was alone again. For a moment longer she hesitated, then she went up, heading for the maintenance room at the top of the deck.

Karr looked about him at the ruins. It was the same pattern as before – broken security cameras, deserted guard-posts, secured lifts, the terrorists' trail cleverly covered by white-outs. All spoke of a highly-organized operation, planned well in advance and carried out with a professionalism that even the T'ang's own élite would have found hard to match.