Wingrove, David - Chung Kuo 02 (85 page)

And was she to
cast that to the winds? To choose nothing rather than this
sometimes-bitter compromise? She shook her head, anguished. Oh, she
had often thought of telling Yuan; had had the urge to let the words
float free from her, like acids, eating into the soft dream of love
he had built about him. And what had kept her from that? Was it pity
for him? A desire not to be cruel? Or was it simple self-interest on
her part?

She turned,
looking at him again. Did she love him? Did she? No. But neither did
she hate him. It was as she'd said so often to herself. He was a good
man. A good husband. But beyond that. . .

She closed her
eyes, imagining herself in Tsu Ma's arms again, the sheer physical
strength of him thrilling beyond words, the strange, mysterious power
of him enfolding her until her mind went dark and her nerve ends sang
with the sweetness of his touch.

And could Li
Yuan do that for her? She shuddered. No. Never in ten thousand years.

* *
*

"If you
would wait here a brief moment,
Shih
Nan, I will let my master
know you are here."

Nan Ho, Li
Yuan's Master of the Inner Chamber, returned the first steward's bow,
then, when the man had gone, turned, looking about him. It was not
often that he found himself in one of the mansions of the Minor
Families and he was not going to miss this opportunity of seeing how
they lived. He had seen the balcony on his way in; now he crossed the
room quickly and stood there just inside the window, looking out
across the grounds. Down below the
chao tai hui
—the
entertainment— was in full swing, more than a thousand guests
filling the space between the old stone walls.

He took a step
further, out onto the balcony itself, fascinated by the range of
outlandish fashions on display, amused by the exaggerated gestures of
some of the more garishly dressed males, then froze, hearing voices
in the gallery behind him. He drew in closer to the upright, drawing
the long silk curtain across a fraction to conceal himself. It would
not do to be seen to be so curious, even if he were here on the
Prince's business.

At first he was
unaware of the import of what was being said, then a single phrase
made him jerk his head about, suddenly attending.

He listened,
horrified, the laughter that followed the words chilling him. And as
their footsteps went away down the stairs, he came out and, tiptoeing
quietly across the tiled floor, leaned over the stairway to catch a
sight of the men who had been talking, drawing his head back sharply
as they turned on the landing below.

Gods.' he
thought, all consideration of the business he had come for gone from
his mind. He must do something, and immediately, for this matter
would not wait. He must nip it in the bud at once.

He was still
standing there, his hands gripping the marble of the balustrade, when
Pei Ro-hen entered the gallery from the far end.

"Master
Nan? Is that you?"

He turned,
flustered, bowing twice, then hurried forward, kissing Pei's offered
ring hand. He straightened up and after the briefest pause to collect
his thoughts, came directly to the point.

"Forgive
me, my Lord, but something has just happened that I must attend to at
once. I was waiting, by the window there, when four men entered the
gallery, talking among themselves. Not wishing to disturb them, I
took a step outside, onto the balcony, yet what I overheard is of the
gravest importance. Indeed, I would go so far as to say that it
threatens the security of our masters."

Pei Ro-hen had
gone very still. There was a small movement in his normally placid
face, then he nodded. "I see. And what do you wish to do, Master
Nan?"

In answer Nan Ho
went to the balcony again, his head bowed, waiting for Pei to come
across. When the old man stood beside him, he pointed out across the
heads of the crowd to four men who were making their way to one of
the refreshment tents on the far side of the walled garden.

"Those are
the men. The two in red silks and the others in lilac and green. If
you could detain them on some pretext for an hour or two, I will see
if I can bring the Marshal here. He will know best how to deal with
this matter."

"Are you
sure that is wise, Master Nan? Should we not, perhaps, simply keep an
eye on them and prevent them from leaving?"

Nan Ho shook his
head vigorously. "Forgive me, but no, my Lord. They must be
isolated at the earliest opportunity, for what they know is
dangerous. I cannot say more, but the safety of my masters is at
stake here and I would be failing in my duty if I did not act."

Pei smiled,
pleased immensely by this show of loyalty. "I understand, Nan
Ho. Then go at once and bring Marshal Tolonen. I, meanwhile, will act
my part in this."

* *
*

KIM SAT there in
the semidarkness, the room lights doused, the soft, pearled glow of
the screen casting a faint, silvered radiance over his face and upper
arms. He had worked through the night, then slept, waking only an
hour past, entranced, fearful, filled with the dream he'd had.

Her eyes. He had
dreamed of Jelka Tolonen's eyes. Of eyes so blue that he could see
the blackness beyond them; could see the stars winking through, each
fastened on its silver, silken thread to where he stood, looking
through her at the universe. He had woken, shivering, the intensity
of the vision scaring him. What did it mean? Why was she there,
suddenly, between him and the stars? Why could he not see them
clearly but through the startling blueness of her eyes?

He had lain
there a while, openmouthed with astonishment, then had come and sat
here, toying with the comset's graphics, trying to re-create the
vision he had had.

A spider. As so
often he had been a spider in his dream; a tiny, silvered, dark-eyed
creature, throwing out his web, letting the threads fly outward to
the stars on tiny spinners that caught the distant sunlight and
converted it to silk, flying onward, faster and ever faster to their
various destinations. But this time it had been as if a great wind
were blowing, gathering all of the threads into a single twisted
trunk, drawing them up into the blueness of those eyes that floated
like twin planets above where he crouched. Only on the far side of
those eyes, where the blue shaded into black, did the trunk seem to
blossom, like the branches of a tree, a million tiny threads
spreading out like the fine capillaries of a root system, thrust deep
into the earth of the universe.

Kim shivered,
staring down at the thing he had made, first in his dreams and then
here in the flatness of the screen. So it had always been for him:
first he would see something, then he would act on what he'd seen.
But this? How could he act on this? How could he pass his web through
the young girl's eyes?

Or was that what
it meant? Was he being too literal? Did this vision have another
meaning than all those that had preceded it?

He shook his
head, then cleared the screen, only then realizing how fast his heart
was beating, how hard it seemed suddenly to breathe. Why was that?
What did it mean?

He stood, angry
with himself. It was only a dream, after all. It didn't
have
to
mean anything, surely? No, he was better off concentrating on
finishing off the work for Prince Yuan. Another two, maybe three,
days should see that done. Then he could send it through. He would
ask Barycz for the favor.

He leaned
forward, about to bring up the lights, when the screen came alive
again. A message was coming through. He leaned back, waiting, one
hand touching the keyboard lightly, killing the hardprint facility.

The words
appeared in the official Project typescript, headed by the symbol of
a skull surrounded by a tiny nimbus of broken lines. It was an
instruction for him to go to the medical center at once for his
three-month checkup.

Kim sat back
thoughtfully. It was too early. He wasn't due his next medical for
another ten days. Still, that wasn't so unusual. Not everyone was as
punctilious as he. Even so, he would make sure it wasn't one of
Spatz's tricks.

He tapped out
the locking combination, then put in the code, touching Cap A to
scramble it. Cap L would unscramble when the time came to unlock, but
until then Prince Yuan's files would be safe from prying eyes. Yes,
they could take the comset apart, component by component, and never
find it.

He looked up at
the watching camera and smiled, then, going across to the corner,
poured water from the jug into the bowl and began to wash.

* *
*

TOLONEN STOOD
and came around his desk, greeting Prince Yuan's Master of the Inner
Chamber.

"Master
Nan, how pleasant to see you here. What can I do for you?"

Nan Ho bowed
low. "Forgive me, Marshal. I realize how busy you are, but this
is a matter of the most extreme urgency."

"So my
equerry leads me to believe. But tell me, what has happened, Master
Nan? Is the T'ang's life in danger?"

Nan Ho shook his
head. "It is not the T'ang but young Prince Yuan who is
threatened by this matter. Nor is it a matter of life but of
reputation that is at stake."

The old man
frowned at that. "I don't understand. You mean Prince Yuan's
reputation is threatened?"

"I do
indeed, Marshal. I was at Pei Ro-hen's mansion on my master's
business, when I overheard something. A rumor. A most vile rumor,
which, if it were to become common knowledge, might do irreparable
damage not only to my master but to the Seven. Such damage might well
have political consequences."

Tolonen was
watching him, his lips slightly parted. "Could you be more
specific, Master Nan? I mean, what kind of rumor is this we're
talking of?"

Nan Ho lowered
his eyes. "Forgive me, Marshal, but I would rather not say. All
I know is that there are no grounds whatsoever for such a rumor and
that the perpetrators have but one purpose: to create a most vile
nuisance for the Family that you and I deem it an honor to serve."

He glanced up,
seeing that his words had done the trick. At the thought of the Li
Clan being harmed in any way, Tolonen had bristled. There was a
distinct color at his neck, and his gray eyes bulged with anger.

"Then what
are we to do, Master Nan? What steps might we take to eradicate this
vileness?"

Nan Ho smiled
inwardly, knowing he had been right to come direct to Tolonen. "Pei
Ro-hen has detained the men concerned before they could spread their
wicked rumor. He is holding them until our return. If, through them,
we can trace the source of this rumor, then we might yet stand a
chance of crushing this abomina' tion before it takes root."

Tolonen gave a
terse nod, then went back to his desk, giving brief instructions into
his desktop comset before he turned back.

"The way is
cleared for us. We can be at Lord Pei's mansion in half an hour. One
of my crack teams will meet us there. Let us hope we are not too
late, neh, Master Nan?"

Yes,
thought
Nan Ho, the tightness at the pit of his stomach returning. For
all
our sakes, let us hope we can stop this thing before it spreads.

* *
*

THE TWO MEN
STOOD at the barrier, waiting while the Marshal's party passed
through on the down transit. When it had gone they turned, their eyes
meeting briefly, a strange look passing between them.

"Passes . .
." the guard seated beyond the barrier said, waving them on with
one hand.

Mach flipped
open the tiny warrant card he was carrying in his left hand and
offered it to the guard. The guard took it without looking at him.
"Face up to the camera," he said tonelessly.

Mach did as he
was told, staring up into the artificial eye. Somewhere in Central
Records it would be matching his retinal prints to his service
record. A moment later a green light flashed on the board in front of
the guard. He handed the card back, again without looking at Mach,
then held out his hand again.

Lehmann came
forward a pace and placed his card into the guard's hand. This time
the guard's eyes came up lazily, then took a second look as he noted
the pallor of the man.

"You sick
or something?"

Mach laughed.
"So would you be if you'd been posted to the Net for four
years."

The guard eyed
Lehmann with new respect. "That so, friend?"

Lehmann nodded,
tilting his face up to stare at the camera.

"Four
years?"

"Three
years, eight months," Lehmann corrected him, knowing what was in
the false record DeVore had prepared for him.

The guard
nodded, reading from the screen in front of him. "Says here you
were decorated, too? What was that for?"

"Some
bastard Triad runner got too nosy," Lehmann said, staring back
at him menacingly. "I broke his jaw."

The guard
laughed uncomfortably and handed back the card. "Okay. You can
go through. And thanks. . . ."

Out of earshot
Mach leaned close. "Not so heavy, friend."

Lehmann simply
looked at him.

Mach shrugged.
"Okay. Let's get on with this. We'll start with the boxes at the
top of the deck."

They took the
deck elevator up, passing through a second checkpoint, then sought
out the maintenance shaft that led to the first of the eighteen
communications boxes that serviced this deck.

Crouched in the
narrow tunnel above the floor-mounted box, Lehmann took a small cloth
bag from the pocket of his tunic. Tilting his head forward, he tapped
first one and then the other of the false lenses out into his hand,
placing them into the bag.

Mach was already
unscrewing the first of the four restraining bolts. He looked up at
Lehmann, noting what he was doing. "Are you sure you ought to do
that? There are cameras in these tunnels, too."