The Middle Kingdom (48 page)

"Paul. . .
please stay. I'd like a witness to what is said here."

"I said—"
began Tolonen, but Berdichev interrupted him.

"I assure
you, General, I will say nothing without a witness present. You see,
there are no cameras in this room, no tapes. Much is said here that
is of a secret nature. Things we would not like to get to the ears of
our competitors. You understand me, General? Besides which, you have
made threats to me. How can I feel safe unless one of my own is here
to see that my rights are not violated?"

Tolonen snorted.
"Rights! Fine words from you, who have so little respect for the
rights of others!"

Berdichev tutted
and looked down. "Again you insult me, General. Might I ask why?
What have I done that should make you treat me thus?"

"You know
damn well what youVe done! And all this acting won't save your ass
this time! You're implicated to the hilt, S/uh Berdichev! I'm talking
about the murder of Li Han Ch'in, not some petty matter of manners.
Two of your installations are directly involved. And that means that
you're involved. You personally!"

Berdichev took
off his glasses and polished the lenses, then looked back at the
General. "I assume you mean the business at Hammerfest."

Tolonen laughed,
astonished by the sheer effrontery of the man. "The business at
Hammerfest. . . . Yes. I mean the matter of your duplicity."

Berdichev
frowned and turned to Moore. "My duplicity?" He looked back
at the General, shaking his head sadly. "Again, I don't
understand you, General. Have I not been totally open? Have I not
given you copies of all the documents relating to both our Punto
Natales installation and the base at Hammerfest? Indeed, were it not
for my men, I understand that you would have lost all of your force
to the terrorists, Klaus Ebert's son among them."

"Terrorists!
That's just more of your nonsense! You know damned well there were no
terrorists!"

"You can
prove that, General?".

Tolonen lowered
his voice. "I have no need to prove it. I know it. Here."
He tapped his heart. "And here." He tapped his head.

"And what
does that mean?" Berdichev leaned forward, his thin face
hardening, his glasses glinting in the overhead light. "You are
making serious accusations, General, and I hope you can substantiate
them. I regret what happened at Hammerfest,
but I am not
responsible for it."

Tblonen shook
his head. "That's where you're wrong, Ber-dichev. The research
undertaken at both installations was illegal and has been directly
linked to the assassination of Li Han Ch'in. Such work was undertaken
in the name of SimFic, carried out on properties leased by SimFic,
and even funded by SimFic. As Head of SimFic you are directly
responsible."

"I
disagree. Some projects, undertaken in our name, may well have been
illegal, as you say. They may—though it remains to be proved
conclusively—be linked to Li Han Ch'in's most unfortunate
death. But just because something is done under our corporate name,
it does not mean to say that we knew about it, or that we sanctioned
it. As you know, General, as soon as I found out what was happening I
ordered full cooperation with the Security forces and even ordered my
own security squads to assist you."

Tolonen was
silent a moment, his face coldly furious. "You want me to
believe that you didn't know what was going on?"

"To be
frank with you, General, I don't really care what
you
believe.
I care only for the truth of the matter." He pointed past
Tolonen at a huge chart on the right-hand wall. "See that there,
General? That is a chart of my organization. Its structure, if you
like. You'll see how it divides and then subdivides. How certain
parts of the organization have a degree of autonomy. How others are
buried deep in a long chain of substructures. A company like SimFic
is a complex creation. A living, functional entity, changing and
evolving all the time."

"So?"

Berdichev folded
his arms and sat back again. "How many men do you command,
General? Half a million? A million?"

Tolonen stood
straighter. "I command four Banners. Two million men in all."

"I see."
He turned to his Senior Executive. "Paul . . . how many men do
we employ in our African operation?"

"Four
hundred and eighty thousand."

"And in
North America?"

"Seven
hundred and forty thousand."

"And in the
Asian operation?"

"One
million two hundred thousand."

Berdichev looked
back at the General. "Those three comprise a third of our total
operations, the major part of which is based here, in City Europe. So
you see, General, my own 'command' is three times the size of your
own. Now, let me ask you a question. Do you know what all of
your
men are doing all of the time?"

Tolonen huffed.
"Why, that's absurd! Of course I don't!"

Berdichev smiled
coldly. "And yet you expect me to know what all of my managers
are up to all of the time! You expect
me
to be responsible for
their actions! Aren't you, by the same argument, responsible for
DeVore's actions? For his betrayal?"

Tblonen did not
answer, merely stared back at Berdichev, an undisguised hatred in his
eyes.

"Well?"
Berdichev asked after a moment. "Are you finished here?"

Tblonen shook
his head; his whole manner had changed with the mention of DeVore. He
was colder now, more distant. "I have only one more thing to say
to you,
Shih
Berdichev. You claim you are not responsible. So
you say. Nonetheless, you will find out who
was
responsible
for this. And you will deliver their heads or your own, understand? I
give you three days."

"Three
days!" Berdichev sat forward. "By what authority—"

Tblonen went to
the door, then turned and looked back at Berdichev. "Three days.
And if you don't I shall come for you myself."

When he was
gone, Berdichev leaned forward and placed his hand on the intercom.
"Did you get all of that?"

A voice answered
at once. "Everything. We're checking now, but it looks like all
six angles were fine. We'll have the edited tape to you in an hour."

"Good!"
He closed contact and looked up at Moore. "Well, Paul?"

Moore was still
staring at the door. "You push him too far, Soren. He's a
dangerous man. You should be cautious of him."

Berdichev
laughed. "Tolonen? Why, he's an impotent old fool! He can't even
wipe his own ass without his T'ang's permission, and Li Shai Tung
won't give him authority to act against us in a thousand years—not
unless he has proof positive. No, weVe done enough, Paul. That just
now was all bullshit and bluster.

Don't fear.
Tolonen will do nothing unless it's sanctioned by his T'ang!"

tolonen's
audience with the T'ang was three hours later. Shepherd, the Tang's
advisor, had got there some time before and had updated Li Shai Tung
on all relevant matters. As soon as Tolonen arrived, therefore, they
got down to more important business.

The T'ang sat
there, in a seat placed at the foot of the dais, dressed in the
rough, unhemmed hempcloth of mourning, subdued and solemn, a thousand
cares on his shoulders. He had not left the Imperial Palace since the
murder of his son, nor had he eaten. At his neck was stitched a broad
square of white cloth and in his left hand he held a bamboo staff.
Both symbolized his grief.

There were only
the three of them in the vast, high-ceilinged Throne Room, and the
T'ang's voice, when he spoke, echoed back to them.

"Well,
Knut? What do you suggest?"

The General
bowed, then outlined his plan, arguing in favor of a preemptive
strike. War, but of a contained nature, attacking specific targets. A
swift retribution, then peace with all other factions.

Li Shai Tung
listened, then seemed to look deep inside himself. "I have lost
the most precious thing a man has," he said at last, looking at
each of them in turn. "I have lost my eldest son. To this I
cannot be reconciled. Nor can I love my enemies. Indeed, when I look
into my heart I find only hatred there for them. A bitter hatred."
He let out a long breath, then stared fixedly at Tolonen. "I
would kill them like animals if it would end there, Knut. But it
would not. There would be war, as you say, but not of the kind you
have envisaged. It would be a dirty, secretive, incestuous war, and
we would come out poorly from it."

He smiled
bleakly at his General, then looked away, the misery in his dark eyes
so eloquent that Tolonen found his own eyes misting in response.

"For once,
my good General, I think you are wrong. I do not believe we can fight
a contained war. Indeed, the Seven have known that for a long time
now. Such a contest would spread. Spread until the Families faced the
full might of the Above, for they would see it as a challenge; an
attack upon their rights— upon their very existence as a
class."

Tolonen looked
down, recalling the look in Lehmann's eyes, the foul effrontery of
Berdichev, and shuddered. "What then,
Ctneh
Hsia?"
he said bluntly, almost belligerently. "Shall we do nothing?
Surely that's just as bad?"

Li Shai Tung
lifted his hand abruptly, silencing him. It was the first time he had
done so in the forty-odd years he had known the General and Tolonen
looked back at him wide eyed a moment before he bowed his head.

The T'ang looked
at the staff he held. It was the very symbol of dependency; of how
grief was supposed to weaken man. Yet the truth was otherwise. Man
was strengthened through suffering; hardened by it. He looked back at
his General, understanding his anger; his desire to strike back at
those who had wounded him. "Yes, Knut, to do nothing
is
bad.
But not as bad as acting rashly. We must seem weak. We must bend with
the wind; sway in the storm's mouth and bide our time.
Wuwei
must
be our chosen course for now."

Wuwei.
Nonaction. It was an old Taoist concept.
Wuwei
meant
keeping harmony with the flow of things—doing nothing to break
that flow.

There was a
moment's tense silence, then Tolonen shook his head almost angrily.
"Might I say what I feel,
Chieh Hsia
?" The formality
of the General's tone spoke volumes. This was the closest the two men
had ever come to arguing.

The T'ang stared
at his General a moment, then looked away. "Say what you must."

Tblonen bowed
deeply, then drew himself erect. "Just this. You are wrong, Li
Shai Tung. Execute me for saying so, but hear me out. You are wrong.
I know it. I feel it in my bones. This is no time for
wuwei.
No
time to be coolheaded and dispassionate. We must be like the tiger
now. We must bare our claws and teeth and strike. This or be eaten
alive."

The T'ang
considered for a moment, then leaned farther forward on his throne.
"You sound like Han Ch'in," he said,

amusement and
bitterness in even measure in his voice. "He, too, would have
counseled war.
They have
killed
me, Father,
he would
have said, so now
you must kill them back."
He shivered
and looked away, his expression suddenly distraught. "Gods,
Knut, I have considered this matter long and hard. But Han's advice
was always brash, always hasty. He thought with his heart. But I must
consider my other son now. I must give him life, stability,
continuity. If we fight a war he will die. Of that I am absolutely
certain. They will find a way—just as they found a way to get
to Han Ch'in. And in the end they will destroy the Families."

Li Shai Tung
turned to Shepherd, who had been silent throughout their exchange. "I
do this for the sake of the living. You understand that, Hal,
surely?"

Shepherd smiled
sadly. "I understand, Shai Tung."

"And the
Seven?" Tolonen stood there stiffly, at attention, his whole
frame trembling from the frustration he was feeling. "Will you
not say to them what you feel in your heart? Will you counsel them to
wuweil
The T'ang faced his General again. "The Seven will
make its own decision. But yes, I shall counsel
uiuwei.
For
the good of all."

"And what
did Li Yuan say?"

Tolonen's
question was unexpected; was close to impertinence, but Li Shai Tung
let it pass. He looked down, remembering the audience with his son
earlier that day. "For your sake I do this," he had said.
"You see the sense in it, surely, Yuan?" But Li Yuan had
hesitated and the T'ang had seen in his eyes the conflict between
what he felt and his duty to his father.

"Li Yuan
agreed with me. As I knew he would."

He saw the
surprise in his General's eyes; then noted how Tolonen stood there,
stiffly, waiting to be dismissed.

"I am sorry
we are not of a mind in this matter, Knut. I would it were otherwise.
Nonetheless, I thank you for speaking openly. If it eases your mind,
I shall put your view to the Council."

Tolonen looked
up, surprised, then bowed deeply. "For that I am deeply
grateful,
Chieh Hsia."

"Good. Then
I need keep you no more."

After Tolonen
had gone, Li Shai Tung sat there for a long while, deep in thought.
For all he had said, Tolonen's conviction had shaken him. He had not
expected it. When, finally, he turned to Shepherd, his dark eyes were
pained, his expression troubled. "Well, Hal. What do you think?"

"Knut feels
it personally. And, because he does, that clouds his judgment. You
were not wrong. Though your heart bleeds, remember you are T'ang. And
a T'ang must see all things clearly. While we owe the dead our
deepest respect, we must devote our energies to the living. Your
thinking is sound, Li Shai Tung. You must ensure Li Yuan's
succession. That is, and must be, foremost in your thinking, whatever
your heart cries out for."