The Middle Kingdom (89 page)

Chen laughed. "A
quicker way?"

Pavel grabbed
his arm again. "Yes. Now, don't argue with me. Come on! We'll
cut the bastard off."

At the lip of
the dike Pavel didn't stop but went over the top and down. Chen
followed, splashing through the shallow water, then following Pavel
up the other bank, pulling himself up a rough, indented ladder which
had been cut into the side of the dike.

"Teng will
go by the bridges," Pavel explained breathlessly as they ran
across the field toward the intersection. "He won't want to get
his uniform muddy. But that means he has to go along and across. We,
however, can go diagonally. We can cut him at the fourth west
bridge."

"Where's
Chang Yan?" Chen asked, not slowing his pace. "I thought
those two bastards were inseparable!"

"Chang
Yan's on leave in Lodz. Which is where Teng should be. But it looks
like he wanted to see the outcome of his troublemaking before he
went."

Yes, thought
Chen. But De Vore's behind it. I knew it. I felt he was up to
something the other evening.

The fourth west
bridge consisted of four long, thick planks of wood, embedded into
the earth on either side of the irrigation canal. Chen waited, hidden
among the man-tall stand of super-wheat to one side of the path,
while Pavel stayed down below, in the water beneath the bridge.

Teng was
wheezing when he came to the bridge. He slowed and wiped his brow,
then came out onto the wooden planking.

"Teng Fu,"
said Chen, stepping out onto the pathway. "How fortunate to meet
you here."

Teng blinked
furiously, then turned, looking about him. The sun was quite low now.
The fields on every side were empty.

He turned back,
facing Chen, slipping the rifle from his shoulder and holding it out
before him threateningly. But it was clear he was shaken.

"Get out of
my way, Tong Chou! I'll kill you if you don't!"

Chen laughed
scornfully. "It's Chen, by the way. Kao Chen. But that aside,
why should I move? You've seen too much, Teng. If I let you go,
you'll say what you've seen, and I can't have that. Anyway, it was
you set those poor bastards onto me, wasn't it? You who told them.
Well. . . this will be for them. And for their brother. Oh, and for
Pavel too."

Teng turned too
late. Pavel had climbed the bank and come up behind him. As the
Overseer's man turned, hearing someone behind him, Pavel launched
himself forward and pushed. Teng fell awkwardly, going headlong into
the shallow stream, the gun falling away from him.

Chen ran
forward, then jumped from the bridge into the water. Pavel followed
him a fraction of a second later.

Teng rolled
over, lifting his head from the water, spluttering, his eyes wide
with surprise, only to find himself thrust down again. He was a big
man and struggled hard, straining with his arms and neck to free
himself, his feet kicking desperately beneath him, but the two men
gritted their teeth and held him down beneath the water until, after
one final, violent spasm of activity, Teng's body went limp.

Pavel shuddered,
then stood up in the water, looking down at what he had done.

"Gods. . .
." he said softly. "We've killed him."

"Yes,"
said Chen, steeling himself, recognizing the pain in the young man's
twisted face. Oh, Pavel had hated him beforehand—had hated him
even enough to kill him—but now that it was done the boy saw
Teng clearer, as another man. A man he had robbed of life. "Come
on," he said, getting to his feet. "We have to hide the
body."

For a moment
Pavel just stared at the lifeless body that now floated, facedown, in
the shallow water; then he seemed to come to himself. He swallowed
deeply, then looked back at Chen. "What?"

"We have to
hide the body," Chen repeated, careful to be gentle with the
boy. "Do you know a place, Pavel?"

The light was
failing fast. They would not be missed at once, but if they delayed
too long . . .

Pavel shivered
again, then nodded. "Yes. There's a place. Farther along."

They towed the
heavy body between them, pulling it by its arms, moving as quickly as
they could against the resistance of the water, until they came to a
place where the reeds on one side of the canal threatened to spill
right across and block the stream. There Pavel halted.

"Here,"
he said, indicating a vague patch of darkness against the bank.

Chen heaved the
body around, then, with Pavel's help, moved it in among the tall
reeds. There, behind the cover of the reeds, a small cave had been
carved out of the bank. Inside, it was curiously dry. Small niches,
like tiny, primitive ovens, had been cut into the walls on either
side. Pavel turned and reached into one. A moment later Chen saw the
flicker of a flint.

Pavel turned, a
lighted candle in his hand, and looked down at the body floating
there between them.

"I don't
like it, but it's the only place."

Chen looked
about him, astonished. The walls were painted, red and green and
yellow, the openings lined with colored tiles. Tiny statues were
placed in each of the niches, about which were placed small pieces of
paper and the remains of tiny finger candles. It was a shrine. A
secret shrine.

"Kuan Yin
preserve us!"

Pavel nodded
vehemently, then let out another shuddering breath. "How will we
anchor him?"

Chen looked
about him, then hit upon the best solution. "We'll lift him up.
Jam his head and shoulders into one of the niches. That should hold
him long enough for us to decide what to do with him."

Pavel looked at
him, wide eyed, then swallowed again.

"What are
you, Kao Chen? What are you doing here?"

Chen looked
down, then decided to tell Pavel the truth. It was that now or kill
him, and he didn't think he
could
kill the boy, even to get
DeVore.

"What I am
doesn't really matter. But I'm here to get Overseer Bergson. To trap
him and bring him to justice. Will you help me, Pavel? Will you help
me get the bastard?"

Pavel looked
again at the body of the man he had helped to kill, then looked up at
Chen again, the candle wavering in his hand, throwing shadows about
the tiny space. He smiled and offered his hand. "Okay, Kao Chen.
I'll help you."

karr STOOD at
the window, looking down at the vast apron of Nanking spaceport, then
turned, smiling. "Well, Gen-eral, it seems we must play our
final card."

The old man
nodded, returning Karr's smile openly. "So it seems. Unless they
change their minds. You're prepared?"

Karr nodded. "I
know what I have to do."

"Good."
Tolonen went across and stood beside Karr, then, unexpectedly, he
embraced him. He did not expect to see the big man again.

Karr held
Tolonen's upper arms a moment, his smile undiminished. "Don't be
sad, General. Remember what you said to me. I'm a winner."

Tolonen sighed,
then smiled. "I hope it's so, my friend. Never more than now."

Karr turned his
head, looking outward again, watching a craft rise slowly on the far
side of the field. The noise reached them a moment later—a
deep, rumbling reverberation that went down the register.

"You know,
General, I'd love to see their faces. Especially DeVore's." He
paused, then, on another tack, added. "Chen has his backup?"

"Of course.
The best I could arrange."

Karr turned
back. "That's good." He went across and took something from
the top of his pack and brought it back across, handing it to
Tolonen.

"What's
this?"

"For Chen.
Just in case."

Tblonen laughed.
"So you are human, after all. I was beginning to wonder."

"Oh, yes,"
Karr answered, his smile fading momentarily. "And I'll tell you
this, General. What I'm about to do frightens me. More than anything
I've ever done before. But I'll do it. Or die trying."

Tolonen looked
at him, admiring him, then bowed his head respectfully.

"Good luck.
And may heaven favor you,
Shih
Karr."

THE JOURNEY to
Tongjiang took Tolonen an hour. Li Shai Tung was waiting for him in
his study, the authority on the desk beside him, signed and
witnessed—the seven tiny
Ywe
Lung
seals imprinted
into the wax in the whiteness on the left-hand side of the document.

"Your man
is on his way, Knut?" the T'ang asked, handing Tolonen the
parchment, then waving away his secretary.

"He is,
Chieh Hsia
. We should know by tomorrow evening how things
stand."

"And the
other matter? The business with DeVore?"

Tolonen smiled.
"That will be settled sooner,
Chieh Hsia
. The agent
concerned, Kao Chen, passed vital evidence back through channels
yesterday. It has been verified that the suspect, Overseer Bergson
is, in reality, the traitor, DeVore."

"Have we
arrested the man?"

"I have
arranged things already,
Chieh Hsia
. We will capture the man
this evening. Within the next few hours, in fact."

"Good.
That, at least, eases my mind." The T'ang sniffed, his
expression grave, then got up slowly from his desk. "A great
storm is coming, Knut, and we shall have made enemies enough before
it blows itself out. DeVore is one I'd rather have in hand, not loose
and making mischief for us."

Yes, thought
Tolonen. And Berdichev too. But that would have to wait a day or two.
Until after Karr had done his stuff. He looked down at the document
in his hands, feeling a great sense of pride at being at the center
of things this night. He had foreseen this long ago, of course. Had
known the day would come when the Seven could no longer sit on their
hands and do nothing. Now they would shake Chung Kuo to its roots.
Shake it hard, as it needed to be shaken.

Tolonen smiled
and then bowed to his T'ang, acknowledging his dismissal; feeling a
deep satisfaction at the way things had gone. The days of
wuwei
—of
passive acceptance—were past. The dragon had awakened and had
bared its claws.

And now it would
strike, its seven heads raised, magnificent, like tigers, making the
hsioo
jen
—the little men—scuttle to their holes
and hide, like the vermin that they were.

Yes. They would
clean the world of them. And then? His smile broadened. Then summer
would come again.

LI SHAI TUNG sat
at his desk, brooding. What had he done? What set in motion? He
shuddered, disturbed by the implications of his actions.

What if it
cracked Chung Kuo itself apart? It was possible. Things were balanced
delicately now. Worse, what if it brought it all tumbling
down—leveling the levels?

He laughed
sourly, then turned at a sound. It was Li Yuan. He was standing in
the doorway, his shoes removed, awaiting his father's permission to
enter. Li Shai Tung nodded and beckoned his son to him.

"Bitter
laughter, Father. Is there something wrong?"

Too wise. Too
young to be so old and knowing.

"Nothing.
Just a play of words."

Li Yuan bowed,
then turned away slightly: a gesture of indirectness his father could
read perfectly. It was something difficult. A request of some kind.
But awkward. Not easy to ask. Li Shai Tung waited, wondering how Li
Yuan would broach the matter. It was an opportunity to study his son:
to assess his strengths, his weaknesses.

"I've been
much troubled, Father."

Li Yuan had
looked up before he spoke. A direct, almost defiant look. He had
resolved the matter and chosen to present it with firmness and
authority. Yes, the old man thought, Li Yuan would make a fine T'ang.
When it was time.

"Is it your
dream again, Yuan?"

Li Yuan
hesitated, then shook his head.

"Then tell
me what it is."

He stood and
went across to the pool, then stood there, looking down at the dim
shapes moving in the depths of the water, waiting for his son to join
him there.

Unexpectedly, Li
Yuan came right up to him, then went down onto his knees at his feet,
his eyes fixed upon the floor as he made his request.

"I want to
ask your permission to marry, Father."

Li Shai Tung
turned sharply, surprised, then laughed and bent down, lifting Li
Yuan's face, his hand cupping his son's chin, making him look up at
him.

"But you're
only twelve, Yuan! There's more than enough time to think of such
matters. A good four years or more. I never meant for you to—"

"I know,
Father. But I already know what I want. Who I want."

There was such
certainty, such fierce certainty, in the words, that the T'ang
released his hold and stepped back, his hand stroking his plaited
beard thoughtfully. "Go on," he said. "Tell me who it
is."

Li Yuan took a
deep breath, then answered him. "Fei Yen. I want Fei Yen."

Li Shai Tung
stared at his son in disbelief. "Impossible! She was Han's wife,
Yuan. You know the law."

The boy's eyes
stared back at him intently. "Yes, and by our law Fei Yen was
never Han Ch'in's wife."

Li Shai Tung
laughed, amazed. "How so, when the seals of Yin Tsu and I are on
the marriage contract? Have you left your senses, Yuan? Of course she
was Han's wife!"

But Li Yuan was
insistent. "The documents were nullified with Han's death.
Think, Father! What does our law actually say? That a marriage is not
a marriage until it has been consummated. Well, Han Ch'in and Fei
Yen—"

"Enough!"
The T'ang's roar took Li Yuan by surprise. "This is wrong, Li
Yuan. Even to talk of it like this . . ."

He shook his
head sadly. It was not done. It simply was not done. Not only was she
too old for him, she was his brother's bride.

"No, Yuan.
She isn't right for you. Not Fei Yen."