‘All the trappings of power,’ said Kustow, shaking his head as if in disapproval. ‘Like the Pharaohs, they are. Obsessed with death.’
Lehmann studied Kustow a moment, noting the strange mixture of awe and antagonism in his blunt, almost rectangular face. You admire this, he thought. Or envy it, rather. Because you too would like to create a dynasty and be buried in a cloth of gold.
For himself, he hated it all. He would have done with kings and dynasties.
They watched as the casket was carried to the mouth of the tomb. Saw the six strongest carry it down the steps into the candlelit interior. And then the camera focused once more on Li Yuan.
‘He’s strong for one so young.’
They were the first words Curval had spoken since he had come into the room. Again Lehmann looked, admiring the manner of the man, his singleness of being. In his face there was a hard, uncompromising certainty about things; in some strange way it reminded Lehmann of Berdichev. Or of how Berdichev had become, after his wife’s death.
On the screen Li Yuan bowed to the tablet then turned, making his slow way to the tomb.
‘He looks strong,’ DeVore said after a moment, ‘but there are things you don’t know about him. That outward presence of his is a mask. Inside he’s a writhing mass of unstable elements. Do you know that he killed all his wife’s horses?’
All eyes were on DeVore, shocked by the news. To kill horses – it was unthinkable!
‘Yes,’ DeVore continued. ‘In a fit of jealousy, so I understand. So, you see, beneath that calm exterior lies a highly unstable child. Not unlike his headstrong brother. And a coward, too.’
Lever narrowed his eyes. ‘How so?’
‘Fei Yen, his brother’s wife, is heavily pregnant. Rumour has it that it is not his child. The woman has been sent home to her father in disgrace. And they say he knows whose bastard it is. Knows and does nothing.’
‘I see,’ Lever said. ‘But that doesn’t necessarily make the man a coward.’
DeVore gave a short laugh. ‘If you were married you would understand it better, Michael. A man’s wife, his child, these things are more than the world to him. He would kill for them. Even a relatively passive man. But Li Yuan holds back, does nothing. That, surely, is cowardice?’
‘Or a kind of wisdom?’ Lever looked back up at the screen, watching the young T’ang step down into the darkness. ‘Forgive me, Shih DeVore, but I feel your friend here is right. It would not do to underestimate Li Yuan.’
‘No?’ DeVore shrugged.
‘Even so,’ Lever said, smiling, ‘I take your point. The Seven have never been weaker than they are right now. And their average age has never been younger. Why, we’re old men by comparison to most of them!’
There was laughter at that.
DeVore studied the three Americans, pleased by Lever’s unconscious echo of his thoughts. It was time.
He raised his hand. At the prearranged signal the screen went dark and a beam of light shone out from above, spotlighting the table and the map on the far side of the room.
‘Ch’un tzu…’ DeVore said, rising to his feet, one arm extended, indicating the table. ‘You’ve seen how things stand with the Seven. How things are now. Well, let us talk of how things might be.’
Lever stood, studying DeVore a moment, as if to weigh him, then smiled and nodded. ‘All right, Shih DeVore. Lead the way. We’re all ears.’
Back inside, Li Yuan drew Wang Sau-leyan aside.
‘Cousin Wang,’ he said softly. ‘May I speak to you in private? News has come.’
Wang Sau-leyan stared back at him, faintly hostile. ‘News, cousin?’
Li Yuan turned slightly to one side, indicating the door to a nearby room. Wang hesitated, then nodded and went through. Inside, Li Yuan pulled the doors closed then turned, facing his fellow T’ang.
‘Your grain ships…’ he began, watching Wang Sau-leyan’s face closely.
‘Yes?’ Wang’s expression was mildly curious.
‘I’m afraid your ships are at the bottom of the ocean, cousin. An hour back. It seems someone blew them up.’
Wang’s expression of angry surprise was almost comical. He shook his head as if speechless then, unexpectedly, he reached out and held Li Yuan’s arm. ‘Are you certain, Li Yuan?’
Li Yuan nodded, looking down at the plump, bejewelled hand that rested on the rough cloth of his sleeve. ‘It’s true. Your Chancellor, Hung Mien-lo, has confirmed it.’
Wang Sau-leyan let his hand fall. He turned his head away then looked back at Li Yuan, a strange hurt in his eyes.
‘I am so sorry, Li Yuan. So very sorry. The grain was my gift to your father. My final gift to him.’ He shook his head, pained. ‘Oh, I can spare more grain – and, indeed, you will have it, cousin – but that’s not the point, is it? Someone destroyed my gift! My gift to your father!’
Li Yuan’s lips parted slightly in surprise. He had not expected Wang to be so upset, so patently indignant. Neither had he for one moment expected Wang to offer another shipment. No, he had thought this all some kind of clever ruse, some way of shirking his verbal obligation. He frowned then shook his head, confused.
‘Your offer is very generous, cousin, but you are in no way to blame for what has happened. Indeed, I understand that the Ping Tiao have claimed responsibility for the act.’
‘The Ping Tiao!’ Again there was a flash of anger in Wang’s face that took Li Yuan by surprise. ‘Then the Ping Tiao will pay for their insult!’
‘Cousin…’ Li Yuan said softly, taking a step closer. ‘The matter is being dealt with, I assure you. The insult will not be allowed to pass.’
Wang gave a terse nod. ‘Thank you, cousin. I –’
There was a loud knocking on the door. Li Yuan half turned then looked back at Wang. ‘You wished to say…?
A faint smile crossed Wang’s features. ‘Nothing, cousin. But again, thank you for telling me. I shall instruct my Chancellor to send a new shipment at once.’
Li Yuan lowered his head. ‘I am most grateful.’
Wang smiled and returned the bow to the precise degree – tacitly acknowledging their equality of status – then moved past Li Yuan, pulling the door open.
Hans Ebert stood outside, in full dress uniform, his equerry three paces behind him. Seeing Wang Sau-leyan, he bowed low.
‘Forgive me, Chieh Hsia. I didn’t realize…’
Wang Sau-leyan smiled tightly. ‘It is all right, Major Ebert. You may go in. Your master and I have finished now.’
Ebert turned then, taking a deep breath, stepped into the doorway, presenting himself.
‘Chieh Hsia?’
Li Yuan was standing on the far side of the room, beside the ceremonial kang, one foot up on the ledge of it, his right hand stroking his unbearded chin. He looked across then waved Ebert in almost casually.
Ebert marched to the centre of the room and came smartly to attention, lowering his head respectfully, waiting for his T’ang to speak.
Li Yuan sighed then launched into things without preamble. ‘These are troubled times, Hans. The old bonds must be forged stronger than ever, the tree of State made firm against the storm to come, from root to branch.’
Ebert raised his head. ‘And my role in this, Chieh Hsia?’
Li Yuan looked down. ‘Let me explain. Shortly before his death, my father went to see General Nocenzi in hospital. As you may have heard, he accepted Nocenzi’s resignation. There was no other choice. But who was to be general in his place?’ He paused significantly. ‘Well, it was my father’s intention to ask Marshal Tolonen to step down from his post of seniority to be general again, and he drafted a memorandum to that effect. There were good reasons for his decision, not least of which was the stability that the old man’s presence would bring to the Security forces. He also felt that to bring in a lao wai – an outsider – might cause some resentment. Besides which, it takes some time for a new general to adapt to his command, and time was something we did not have.’
<
br /> Li Yuan turned away, silent a moment, then looked back at him. ‘Don’t you agree, Hans?’
Ebert bowed his head. ‘It is so, Chieh Hsia. Moreover, there is no one in all Chung Kuo with more experience than the Marshal. Indeed, I can think of nobody your enemies would welcome less in the post.’
He saw Li Yuan smile, pleased by his words. Even so, his sense of disappointment was acute. After what Tolonen had said to him earlier he had hoped for the appointment himself.
Li Yuan nodded then spoke again. ‘However, my father’s death changes many things. Our enemies will think us weak just now. Will think me callow, inexperienced. We need to demonstrate how wrong they are. Tolonen’s appointment as General would certainly help in that regard, but I must also show them that I am my own man, not merely my father’s shadow. You understand me, Hans?’
‘I understand, Chieh Hsia.’
Only too well.
‘Yes…’ Li Yuan nodded thoughtfully. ‘In that we are alike, neh, Hans? We know what it is to have to wait. To be our fathers’ hands. Yet in time we must become them, and more, if we are to gain the respect of the world.’
‘It is so,’ Ebert said quietly.
‘Besides which,’ Li Yuan continued, ‘things are certain to get worse before they get better. In consequence we must grow harder, more ruthless than we were in the days of ease. In that, Wang Sau-leyan is right. It is a new age. Things have changed, and we must change with them. The days of softness are past.’
Ebert watched Li Yuan’s face as he spoke the words and felt genuine admiration for the young T’ang. Li Yuan was much harder, much more a pragmatist than his father – his ideas about the Wiring Project were proof of that.
But Ebert was too far along his own road now to let that colour his thinking; too deeply committed to his own dream of inheritance.
One day he would have to kill this man, admire him or not. It was that or see his own dream die.
‘Trust,’ Li Yuan said. ‘Trust is the cornerstone of the State. In that, as in many things, my father was right. But in an age of violent change who should the wise man trust? Who can he trust?’ He looked back at Ebert, narrowing his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Hans. It’s just that I must talk this through. You understand?’
Ebert bowed his head. ‘I am honoured that you feel you can talk so freely in my presence, Chieh Hsia.’
Li Yuan laughed then grew serious again. ‘Yes, well… I suppose it is because I consider you almost family, Hans. Your father had been chief amongst my father’s counsellors since Shepherd’s illness and will remain among my council of advisors. However, it is not about your father that I summoned you today, it is about you.’
Ebert raised his head. ‘Chieh Hsia?’
‘Yes, Hans. Haven’t you guessed, or have I been too indirect? I want you for my general – my most trusted man. I want you to serve me as Tolonen served my father. To be my sword arm and my scourge, the bane of my enemies and the defender of my children.’
Ebert’s mouth had fallen open. ‘But, Chieh Hsia, I thought –’
‘Oh, Tolonen is appointed temporarily. As caretaker general. He agreed an hour past. But it is you I want to stand behind me at my coronation three days from now. You who will receive the ceremonial dagger that morning.’
Ebert stared at him, open-mouthed, then fell to his knees, bowing his head low. ‘Chieh Hsia, you do me a great honour. My life is yours to command.’
He had rehearsed the words earlier, yet his surprise at Li Yuan’s sudden reversal gave them force. When he glanced up, he could see the pleasure in the young T’ang’s face.
‘Stand up, Hans. Please.’
Ebert got to his feet slowly, keeping his head bowed.
Li Yuan came closer. ‘It might surprise you, Hans, but I have been watching you for some time now. Seeing how well you dealt with your new responsibilities. It did not escape my notice how loyal your officers were to you. As for your courage…’ He reached out and touched the metal plate on the back of Ebert’s head then moved back again. ‘Most important of all, though, you have considerable influence among the elite of First Level. An important quality in a general.’
Li Yuan smiled broadly. ‘Your appointment will be posted throughout the levels tonight at twelfth bell. But before then I want you to prepare a plan of action for me.’
‘A plan, Chieh Hsia?’
Li Yuan nodded. ‘A plan to eradicate the Ping Tiao. To finish off what my father began. I want every last one of them dead, a month from now. Dead, and their bodies laid out before me.’
Ebert stood there, his mouth fallen open again. Then he bowed his head. For a moment he had almost laughed. Eradicate the Ping Tiao? Little did Li Yuan know. It was done already! And done by Li Yuan’s chief enemy, DeVore!
Li Yuan touched his shoulder. ‘Well… go now, Hans. Go and tell your father. I know he will be proud. It was what he always wanted.’
Ebert smiled then bowed his head again, surprised by the pride he felt. To be this man’s servant – what was there to be proud of in that? And yet, strangely enough, he was. He turned, making to leave, but Li Yuan called him back.
‘Oh, and, Hans… we found the boy.’
Ebert turned back, his stomach tightening. ‘That’s excellent, Chieh Hsia. How was he?’
Li Yuan smiled. ‘It could not have been better, Hans. He remembered everything. Everything…’
*
DeVore took his eye from the lens of the electron-microscope and looked across at the geneticist, smiling, impressed by what he’d seen.
‘It’s clever, Shih Curval. Very clever indeed. And does it always behave like that, no matter the host?’
Curval hesitated a moment then turned back, reaching across DeVore to take the sealed slide from the microscope, handling it with extreme delicacy. As indeed he ought, for the virus it contained was deadly. He looked back at DeVore.
‘If the host has had the normal course of immunization then, yes, it should follow near enough the same evolutionary pattern. There will be slight statistical variations, naturally, but such “sports” will be small in number. For all intents and purposes you could guarantee a one hundred per cent success rate.’
DeVore nodded thoughtfully. ‘Interesting. So, in effect, what we have here is a bug that evolves. That’s harmless when it’s first passed on but which, in only a hundred generations, evolves into a deadly virus. A brain-killer.’ He laughed. ‘And what’s a hundred generations in the life of a bug?’
For the first time, Curval laughed. ‘Exactly…’
DeVore moved back, letting the scientist past, his mind reeling with an almost aesthetic delight at the beauty of the thing. ‘Moreover, the very thing that triggers this evolutionary pattern is that which is normally guaranteed to defend the body against disease – the immunization programme!’
‘Exactly. The very thing that every First Level child has pumped into their system as a six-month foetus.’
DeVore watched him place the sealed slide back into the padded, shock-safe case and draw another out.
‘Come… here’s another. Slightly different this time. Same principle, but more specific.’
DeVore leaned forward, fascinated. ‘What do you mean, more specific?’
Curval slipped the slide into the slot then stood back. ‘Just watch. I’ll trigger it when you’re ready.’
He put his eye to the lens. Again he saw the thing divide and grow and change, like the ever-evolving pattern in a kaleidoscope, but this thing was real, alive – as alive as only a thing whose sole purpose was to kill could be.
DeVore looked up. ‘It looks the same.’
Curval looked at him closely. ‘You noticed no difference, then?’
DeVore smiled. ‘Well, there were one or two small things, midway through. There was a brief stage when the thing seemed a lot bigger than before. And afterwards there was a slight colour change. Then it normalized. Was the same as before.’
Curval laughed. ‘Good. So you did see.’<
br />
‘Yes, but what did I see?’
Curval took out the slide – it seemed not as carefully as before – and set it down on the table beside him.
‘This…’ he tapped it almost carelessly ‘…is as harmless to you or me as spring water. We could take in a huge dose of it and it wouldn’t harm us one tiny little bit. But to a Han…’
DeVore’s eyes widened.
Curval nodded. ‘That’s right. What you saw was the virus priming itself genetically, like a tiny bacteriological time-bomb, making itself racially specific.’
DeVore laughed then reached across to pick it up. The slide seemed empty, yet its contents could do untold damage. Not to him or his kind, but to the Han. He smiled broadly. ‘Wonderful! That’s wonderful!’
Curval laughed. ‘I thought you’d like it. You know, I had you in mind constantly while I was making it. I would sit there late nights and laugh, imagining your reaction.’
DeVore looked at him a moment then nodded. The two had known each other more than twenty years, ever since their first fateful meeting at one of Old Man Ebert’s parties. Curval had been restless even then – wanting to break out on his own, burdened by the remaining years of his contract. It had been DeVore who had befriended him. DeVore who had found him his first, important contacts in City America. DeVore who had shown him the top-security files detailing the deals Klaus Ebert had struck with various Companies to destroy Curval’s own enterprise. DeVore who had arranged the deal whereby he worked for the Levers and yet had his own private laboratories.
And now Curval was returning the favour. With only one string attached. A minor thing. DeVore could have the virus, but first he must promise to kill Old Man Ebert.
He had agreed.
‘Does Michael know about this?’
Curval smiled. ‘What do you think? Michael Lever is a nice young man, for all his revolutionary fervour. He wants to change things – but fairly. He’ll fight if he must, but he won’t cheat. He’d kill me if he knew I’d made something like this.’
DeVore considered that a while then nodded. ‘You’re sure of that?’
The Broken Wheel Page 25
