Wingrove, David - Chung Kuo 02 (42 page)

Tsu Ma looked
about him, suddenly angry, his eyes taking in the waste of it all.
Long centuries of waste. "They could have done so much—for
the sick, the poor, the homeless, but such things were beneath their
notice.
To
purge themselves of earthly desires was all they
were worried about. Pain and suffering—what did suffering mean
to them except as a path to purity?"

"Then you
think Tsao Ch'un was right to destroy them?"

"Right?"
He came across to her. "Yes, I think he was right. Not in
everything he did. But in this . . . yes. It's better to feed and
clothe and house the masses than to let them rot. Better to give them
a good life here than to let them suffer in the vague hope of some
better afterlife."

He placed his
right hand against the rounded stone of the upright, leaning over
her, staring down fiercely at her as he spoke, more passionate than
she had ever seen him. She looked down, her pulse quickening.

"And that's
what you believe?" she asked softly. "That we've only this
one life. And nothing after."

"Don't we
all believe that? At core?"

She shivered,
then looked up, meeting his eyes. "One life?"

He hesitated,
his eyes narrowing, then reached out and brushed his fingers against
her cheek and neck.

"Tsu Ma . .
."

He drew his hand
back sharply. "Forgive me, I..." He stared at her a moment,
his eyes confused, pained. "I thought. . ." He looked down,
shaking his head, then pushed past her.

Outside the sky
was overcast. A wind had blown up, tearing at the grass, rippling the
surface of the pool. Tsu Ma knelt at its edge, his chest heaving, his
thoughts in turmoil.
One life . . .
What had she meant if not
that? What did she want of him?

He turned,
hearing her approach.

"I'm sorry
. . ." she began, but he shook his head.

"It was a
mistake, that's all. We are who we are, neh?"

She stared at
him, pained by the sudden roughness of his words. She had not meant
to hurt him.

"If I were
free. . ."

He shook his
head, his face suddenly ugly, his eyes bitter. "But you're not.
And the Prince is my friend, neh?"

She turned her
face from him, then moved away. The storm was almost upon them now. A
dense, rolling mist lay upon the hills behind the ruins and the wind
held the faintest suggestion of the downpour to come. The sky was
darkening by the moment.

"We'd best
get back," she said, turning to him. But he seemed unaware of
the darkness at the back of everything. His eyes held nothing but
herself. She shuddered. Was he in love with her? Was that it? And she
had thought. . .

Slowly he stood,
his strong, powerful body stretching, as if from sleep. Then, turning
his head from her, he strode down the slope toward the horses.

* *
*

ON THE FLIGHT
down to Nanking, Tolonen played back the recording, the words
sounding clearly in his head. Listening to his own voice again, he
could hear the unease, the bitterness there and wondered what Li Yuan
had made of it. Prince Yuan was a clever one, there was no doubting
it; so perhaps he understood why the T'ang had appointed him to
oversee the Project rather than someone more sympathetic. Maybe that
was why he had left things unresolved, their talk at an impasse. But
had he guessed the rest of it? Did he know just how deeply his father
was opposed to things?

He sighed, then
smiled, thinking of the reunion to come. He had not seen Karr in more
than three years. Not since he'd seen him off from Nanking back in
November '03. And now Karr was returning, triumphant, his success in
tracking down and killing Berdichev a full vindication of their faith
in him.

Tolonen leaned
forward, looking down out of the porthole. The spaceport was off in
the distance ahead of them, a giant depression in the midst of the
great glacial plateau of ice—the City's edge forming a great
wall about the outer perimeter. Even from this distance he could see
the vast, pitted sprawl of landing pads, twenty
li
in
diameter, its southernmost edge opening out onto Hsuan Wu Lake, the
curve of the ancient Yangtze forming a natural barrier to the
northeast, like a giant moat two li in width. At the very center of
that great sunken circle, like a vast yet slender needle perched on
its tip, was the control tower. Seeing it, Tolonen had mixed
feelings. The last time he had come to greet someone from Mars it had
been DeVore. Before he had known. Before the T'ang's son, Han Ch'in,
had died and everything had changed.

But this time it
was Karr. And Karr would be the hawk he'd fly against his prey. So
maybe it was fitting that it should begin here, at Nanking, where
DeVore had first slipped the net.

Ten minutes
later he was down and seated across from a young duty captain as they
traveled the fast-link that connected the City to the spaceport.
Things were tight here, tighter than he remembered them. They had
banned all transit flights across the port. Only incoming or outgoing
spacecraft were allowed in its air space. Anything else was destroyed
immediately, without warning. So this was the only way in—underneath
the pott.

Karr's ship was
docking even as Tolonen rode the sealed car out to the landing bay.
The noise was deafening. He could feel the vibrations in his bones,
juddering the cradle he was strapped into, making him think for a
moment that the tiny vehicle was going to shake itself to pieces.
Then it eased and the sound dropped down the register. With a hiss, a
door irised open up ahead of him and the car slipped through, coming
out into a great sunken pit, in the center of which stood the squatly
rounded shape of the interplanetary craft.

He could see the
Tientsin clearly through the transparent walls of the car, its
underbelly glowing, great wreaths of mist swirling up into the cold
air overhead. The track curved sharply, taking his car halfway around
the ship before it slowed and stopped. Guards met him, helped him
out, standing back, their heads bowed, as he stretched his legs and
looked about him.

He smiled,
looking back at the craft. It had come all the way from Mars. Like a
great black stone slapped down upon the great
wei chi
board of
Chung Kuo. Karr. He could see the big man in his mind's eye even now,
lifting Berdichev and breaking him. Ending it quickly, cleanly.
Tolonen sniffed. Yes, in that he and Kan-were alike. They understood
how things worked at this level. It was no good dealing with one's
enemies as one dealt with one's friends. Useless to play by rules
that the other side constantly broke. In war one had to be utterly
ruthless. To concede nothing—unless concession were a path to
victory.

As he watched,
an R-shaped gantry-elevator moved on its rails across to the craft
and attached itself to a portal on its uppermost surface. He walked
toward it, habit making him look about him, as if, even here, he
could expect attack.

Karr was in the
first elevator, packed in with twenty or thirty others. As the cage
descended, Tolonen raised a hand in greeting, but stayed where he
was, just back from the others waiting there—maintenance crew,
customs men, and guards. Kan-was carrying a small briefcase, the
handle chained to his arm. At the barrier he was first in the line,
his Triple-A pass held out for inspection. Even so, it was some three
or four minutes before he passed through.

The two men
greeted one another warmly, Tolonen hugging the big man to him. "It's
good to see you, Gregor. You did well out there. I'm proud of you!"

"Thank you,
sir. But you're looking well yourself."

Tolonen nodded,
then pointed at the briefcase. "But what's this? Don't we pay
you enough that you have to go into the courier business?"

Karr leaned
closer, lowering his voice. "It's my gift for the T'ang. I
didn't want to say anything about it until I got back. You know how
it is."

Tolonen sighed.
"I know only too well. But tell me, what is it?"

Karr smiled.
"Berdichev's files. His personal records. Coded, of course, but
I'm sure we can crack them. If they're what I think they are, we can
polish off the Dispersionists for good."

"Unless
someone's done it already?"

Karr narrowed
his eyes. "The Executive Killings, you mean?"

"Yes. It's
one of the theories we're working on. Which is why I wanted you to
take over the investigation from young Ebert. You've the nose for
it."

"Hmmm . .
." Karr looked down. "I've read the files."

"And?"

"They make
no sense. There's no real pattern to it. Good men and bad. It seems
almost random. Except for the timing of it all."

"Yes. But
there has to be a connection."

"Maybe . .
." Karr's face was clouded a moment, then he brightened. "But
how's that darling daughter of yours? She was a little tiger!"

Tolonen's face
lit up. "Gods, you should see her now, Gregor. Like Mu-Lan, she
is. A regular little warrior princess. Yes. . . you must come and
train with us some time!"

Karr bowed low.
"I would be greatly honored."

"Good, then
let's . . ."

Tolonen stopped.
A man was standing just to Karr's right. Karr turned, reacting to the
movement in Tolonen's eyes, then relaxed, smiling.

"First
Advocate Kung!" Karr gave a small bow and put out his left hand
to shake the outstretched hand of the Advocate. "I hope all goes
well for you."

"Thank you,
Major. And your own ventures ... I hope they prove successful."

The Advocate
hesitated, looking to Tolonen. Karr saw what his hesitation implied
and quickly made the introduction.

"Forgive
me. First Advocate Kung, this is Marshal Tolonen, Head of the Council
of Generals."

Tolonen accepted
the Advocate's bow with a tight smile. He knew this game too well to
be caught in the web of obligation.

"I am
delighted to make your acquaintance, Marshal Tolonen," Kung
said, bowing again. Then he turned and clicked his fingers. At once
his valet approached, handing him a small case. "However, it was
you, Major Karr, whom I wanted to see. I was most grateful for your
hospitality on board ship, and wanted to offer you a small token of
my appreciation."

Tolonen smiled
inwardly. He would have to brief Karr afterward on how to escape from
this situation, otherwise First Advocate Kung would be calling upon
him for favors from here until doomsday, playing upon the Major's
need not to lose face.

"Thank you,
Advocate, but. . ."

Karr saw the
case falling away, Kung raising the handgun, both hands clasping the
handle; and he reacted at once, straight-arming Tolonen so that the
old man went down. It was not a moment too soon. The explosion from
the big old-fashioned gun was deafening. But Karr was already
swinging the case at the Advocate's head. He felt it connect and
followed through with a kick to the stomach. Kung fell and lay still.

There was
shouting all about them. The valet had gone down on his knees, his
head pressed to the floor, his whole body visibly shaking. It was
clear he had had nothing to do with the assassination attempt. Karr
turned, looking for further assassins, then, satisfied there were
none, looked down at Tolonen. The Marshal was sitting up, gasping,
one hand pressed to his ribs.

Karr went down
on one knee. "Forgive me, Marshal, I—"

Tolonen waved
aside his apology, the words coming from him wheezingly. "You .
. . saved my ... life."

"I wouldn't
have believed it. He was Senior Advocate on Mars. A highly respected
man."

"Major!"
The call came from behind Karr. He turned. It was one of the
spaceport's Security captains.

"What is
it?" he answered, standing, looking across to where the Captain
was kneeling over the fallen man.

"There's no
pulse."

Karr went across
and knelt beside Kung, examining the body for himself. It was true.
Advocate Kung was dead. Yet the wounds to the head and stomach were
minimal. If he had
meant
to kill the man . . .

"Shit!"
he said, turning to look at Tolonen, then frowned. "What is it,
sir?"

Tolonen's eyes
were wide, staring at the corpse. As Karr watched him, the old man
shuddered. "Gods . . ." he said softly. "It's one of
them."

Karr stared back
at him a moment, then his eyes widened, understanding. "A copy.
. ." He turned and looked across at the valet. The man had been
forced to his feet and was being held between two Security men, his
head bowed in shame, his hands trembling with fear.

"You! "
Karr barked at him, getting up and going across to him. "Tell
me, and tell me fast, did you notice anything different about your
master? Anything unusual?"

The man shook
his head abjectly. "Nothing, honored sir. Believe me. I knew
nothing of his intentions."

Karr studied the
man a moment longer, then waved the guards away. "Take him away
and interrogate him. Whatever it takes. I want the truth from him."
He turned back. Tolonen was getting to his feet, one of the guards
giving him a hand.

Tolonen turned,
smiling his thanks, then put out his hand. "Give me your knife,
sergeant."

The guard did as
he was told, then stood back, watching as Tolonen limped slowly
across to the corpse.

He met Karr's
eyes. "If it's like the others . . ." Karr nodded. They
both remembered that day when Han Ch'in had been assassinated.
Recalled the team of copy humans who had come in from Mars to kill
him. And now here they were again. A second wave, perhaps. Tolonen
knelt by the body, putting the knife down at his side.

"Here,"
Karr said, coming the other side of Kung. "I'll do it." If
it was like the others it would have a metal plate set into its
chest. The real Kung would have been killed months ago.