‘Thanks for the ch’a, but shouldn’t you be checking on things?’
He laughed. ‘As if anything ever happens.’ But he sensed that he had outstayed his welcome and turned to go, stopping only at the far end of the long, dark shaft to look back at her.
She had moved on, further in towards the hub. Above her the overhead lamp, secure on its track and attached to her waist by a slender, web-like thread, threw a bright, golden light over her dark, neat head as she bent down, working on the next conduit in the line. For a moment longer he watched her, her head bobbing like a swimmer’s between light and shadow, then turned, sighing, to descend the rungs.
Chen sat there, watching the screen in the corner while Wang Ti dressed the children. The set was tuned to the local MidText channel and showed a group of a dozen or so dignitaries on a raised platform, a great mass of people gathered in the Main in front of them. It was a live broadcast, from Hannover, two hundred li to the south-east.
At the front of the group on-screen was the T’ang’s Chancellor, Nan Ho, there on his master’s behalf to open the first of the new Jade Phoenix Health Centres. Behind him stood the Hsien L’ing, the ChiefMagistrate of Hannover Hsien, Shou Chen-hai, a tall man with a patrician air and a high-domed head that shone damply in the overhead lights. The Chancellor was speaking, a great scroll held out before him, outlining Li Yuan’s ‘new deal’ for the Lowers, dwelling in particular upon the T’ang’s plan to build one hundred and fifty of the new Health Centres throughout the lower third.
‘About time,’ said Wang Ti, not looking up from where she sat, lacing up her young daughter’s dress. ‘They’ve neglected things far too long. You remember the problems we had when Jyan was born. Why, I almost gave birth to him in the reception hall. And that was back then. Things have got a lot worse in the years since.’
Chen grunted, remembering; yet he felt uneasy at the implied criticism of his T’ang. ‘Li Yuan means only well,’ he said. ‘There are those who would not do one tenth as much.’
Wang Ti looked across at him, a measured look in her eyes, then looked away. ‘I’m sure that’s so, but there are rumours…’
Chen turned his head abruptly, the stiff collar of his jacket chafing his neck. ‘Rumours? About the T’ang?’
Wang Ti laughed, pushing Ch’iang Hsin away from her. ‘No. Of course not. And yet his hands…’
Chen frowned. ‘His hands?’
Wang Ti got up slowly, putting a hand to her lower back. ‘They say that some grow fat on the T’ang’s generosity, while others get but the crumbs from his table.’
‘I don’t follow you, Wang Ti.’
She indicated the figures on the screen. ‘Our friend, the Hsien L’ing. It is said he has bought himself many things these past six months. Bronzes and statues and silks for his concubines. And more besides…’
Chen’s face had hardened. ‘You know this, Wang Ti? For a certainty?’
‘No. But the rumours…’
Chen stood, angered. ‘Rumours! Kuan Yin preserve us! Would you risk all this over some piece of ill-founded tittle-tattle?’
The three children were staring up at him, astonished. As for Wang Ti, she lowered her head, her whole manner suddenly submissive.
‘Forgive me, husband, I…’
The sharp movement of his hand silenced her. He turned, agitated, and went to the set, jabbing a finger angrily at the power button. At once the room was silent. He turned back, facing her, his face suffused with anger.
‘I am surprised at you, Wang Ti. To slander a good man like Shou Chen-hai. Do you know for a fact what the Hsien L’ing has or hasn’t bought? Have you been inside his mansion? Besides, he is a rich man. Why should he not have such things? Why are you so quick to believe he has used the T’ang’s money and not his own? What evidence have you?’
He huffed impatiently. ‘Can’t you see how foolish this is? How dangerous? Gods, if you were to repeat to the wrong ear what you’ve just said to me, we would all be in trouble! Do you want that? Do you want us to lose all we’ve worked so long and hard to build? Because it’s still a crime to damage a man’s reputation with false allegations. Demotion, that’s what I’m talking about, Wang Ti. Demotion. Back below the Net.’
Wang Ti gave a tiny shudder, then nodded. ‘Forgive me, Kao Chen. I was wrong to say what I did. I will say no more about the Hsien L’ing.’
Chen stared at her a moment longer, letting his anger drain from him, then nodded, satisfied. ‘Good. Then we’ll say no more. Now hurry or we’ll be late. I promised Karr we’d be there by second bell.’
Shou Chen-hai looked about him nervously, then, satisfied that everything was prepared, forced himself to relax.
The T’ang’s Chancellor had departed an hour past, but though Nan Ho was high, high enough to have the ear of a T’ang, Shou’s next guest – a man never seen on the media – was in many ways more important.
For Shou it had begun a year back, when he had been appointed to the Chair of the Finance Committee for the new Health Centre. He had seen then where it might lead… if he was clever enough, audacious enough. He had heard of the merchant some time before and, his mind made up, had gone out of his way to win his friendship. But it was only when Shih Novacek had finally called on him, impressed more by his persistence than his gifts or offers of help, that he had had a chance to win him to his scheme. And now, this afternoon, that friendship would bear its first fruit.
Novacek had briefed him fully on how to behave. Even so, Shou’s hands trembled with a mixture of fear and excitement at the thought of entertaining a Red Pole, a real-life 426, like on the trivee serials. He called the Chief Steward over and wiped his hands on the towel the man held out for him, dabbing his forehead nervously. When he had first considered all this he had imagined a meeting with the Big Boss, the 489 himself, but Novacek had quickly disillusioned him. The Triad bosses rarely met the people they dealt with. They were careful to use intermediaries. Men like Novacek, or like their Red Poles, the ‘Executioners’ of the Triads; cultured, discreet men with the manners of Mandarins and the instincts of sharks.
The curtains at the far end of the long room swished back and four young, muscular-looking Han entered, Novacek just behind. They wore yellow headbands with a wheel – the symbol of the Big Circle Triad – embroidered in blue silk above the forehead. Novacek looked across and smiled reassuringly. Again, Shou had been prepared for this – even so, the thought of being ‘checked out’ by the Red Pole was faintly disturbing.
They worked with an impressive thoroughness, as if it were much more than simple precaution. But then, if what Shih Novacek said was true, theirs was a cut-throat world down there, and those who succeeded were not merely the strongest but the most careful.
Novacek came across, bowing to Shou Chen-hai. ‘You have done well, Hsien L’ing Shou,’ he said, indicating the spread Shou had prepared.
Shou returned Novacek’s bow, immensely gratified by the merchant’s praise. ‘It is but the humblest fare, I am afraid.’
Novacek came closer, lowering his voice. ‘Remember what I said. Do not smile at our friend when he comes. Nor should you show any sign of familiarity. Yao Tzu, like most Red Poles, is a proud man – he has great face – but understandably so. One does not become a Red Pole through family influence or by sitting exams. The Hung Mun, the Secret Societies, are a different kind of school – the very toughest of schools, you might say, and our friend, the Red Pole, is its finest graduate. If any other man were qualified for the job, he would be Red Pole and our friend Yao Tzu would be dead. You understand?’
Shou Chen-hai bowed his head, swallowing nervously, made aware once again of the risks he was taking even in meeting this man. His eyes went to the Hung Mao’s face. ‘You will sit beside me, Shih Novacek?’
Novacek smiled reassuringly. ‘Do not worry, Hsien L’ing Shou. Just do as I’ve said and all will be well.’
Shou Chen-hai gave a tiny shudder, then bowed again, grateful that the merchant had agr
eed to this favour. It would cost him, he knew, but if his scheme succeeded it would be a small price to pay.
At the entrance to the kitchen one of the runners appeared again, giving a brief hand-signal to one of his compatriots. At once the young man turned and disappeared through the curtain.
‘All’s well, it seems,’ Novacek said, turning back. ‘Come, let’s go across. Our friend the Red Pole will be here any moment now.’
Little was said during the meal. Yao Tzu sat, expressionless, facing Shou Chen-hai across the main table, one of his henchmen seated either side of him. If what Novacek said was true, the Red Pole himself would be unarmed, but that didn’t mean that he was unprepared for trouble. The henchmen were big, vicious-looking brutes who sat there, eating nothing. They merely stared at Shou; stared and stared until his initial discomfort became something else – a cold, debilitating dread that seeped into his bones. It was something Novacek had not prepared him for and he wondered why. But he let nothing show. His fear and discomfort, his uncertainty and self-doubt were kept hidden behind the thickness of his face.
He watched the Red Pole wipe at his lips delicately with the cloth, then look across at him. Yao Tzu had tiny, almost childlike features; his nose and ears and mouth dainty, like those of a young woman, his eyes like two painted marbles in a pock-marked face that was almost Hung Mao in its paleness. He stared at Shou Chen-hai with an impersonal hostility that seemed of a piece with the rest of him. Meeting that gaze, Shou realized that there was nothing this man would not do. Nothing that could ever make him lose a moment’s sleep at night. It was this that made him so good at what he did – that made him a 426, an Executioner.
He almost smiled, but stopped himself, waiting, as he’d been told, for Yao Tzu to speak first. But instead of speaking, the Red Pole half-turned in his seat and clicked his fingers. At once one of his men came across and placed a slender case on the table by Yao Tzu’s left hand.
Yao Tzu looked up, then pushed the case towards him.
Shou glanced at Novacek, then drew the case closer, looking to the Red Pole for permission to open it. At the man’s brief nod, he undid the catches and lifted the lid. Inside, embedded in bright red padded silk, were three rows of tiny black-wrapped packages, Han pictograms embossed on the wrappings in red and blue and yellow – a row of each colour. He stared at them a moment, then looked up, meeting the Red Pole’s eyes. Again he had to fight down the impulse to smile – to try to make some kind of personal contact with the man facing him – but he felt exultant. If these were what he thought they were… He glanced at Novacek for confirmation, then looked back at the Red Pole, bowing his head.
For the first time in over an hour, Yao Tzu spoke.
‘You understand, then, Shou Chen-hai? You have there the complete range of our latest drugs, designed to suit every need, manufactured to the very highest quality in our laboratories. At present there is nothing like them in the whole of Chung Kuo. We will supply you with whatever you require for the first two months, free of charge, and you in turn will provide the capsules without payment to your contacts in the Above. After that time, however, we begin to charge for whatever we supply. Not much, of course – nothing like what you will be charging your friends, neh? – but enough to keep us both happy.’
Shou Chen-hai gave the smallest nod, his throat dry, his hands trembling where they rested either side of the case. ‘And my idea?’
Yao Tzu looked down. ‘Your scheme has our approval, Hsien L’ing Shou. Indeed, we had been looking for some while to move in this direction. It is fortunate for us both that our interests coincide so closely, neh?’
‘And the other bosses… they’ll not contest you?’
It was his deepest worry – the one thing that had kept him sleepless night after night – and now he had blurted it out. For a moment he thought he had said the wrong thing, but beside him Novacek was silent, and there was no sign in the Red Pole’s face that he had been offended; even so, Shou sensed a new tension about the table.
‘It will be dealt with,’ Yao Tzu answered stiffly, meeting his eyes. ‘When the well is deep, many can draw from it, neh? Besides, it is better to make money than fight a war. I am certain the other bosses will feel the same.’
Shou let the tension drain from him. Then it was agreed. Again he felt a wave of pure elation wash through him.
Yao Tzu was watching him coldly. ‘You, of course, will be responsible for your end of things. You will take care of recruitment and marketing. You will also provide all tea money.’
Shou bowed his head, concealing his disappointment. He had hoped they would help him out in respect of ‘tea money’ – bribes; had assumed that they would pay well to buy his contacts, but it was clear they saw things differently. His funds were large, admittedly, since he had tapped into the Health Project finances, but they were far from infinite and he had had extensive experience already of dealing with officials. They were like whores, only whores were cheap.
He looked up, meeting the Red Pole’s stare with sudden confidence, knowing he had not been wrong all those months back. He, Shou Chen-hai, was destined for great things. And his sons would be great men, too. Maybe even Ministers.
When they had gone he sat there, studying the contents of the case.
If what he had heard was true, this lot alone was worth half a million. He touched his tongue to his teeth thoughtfully, then lifted one of the tiny packages from its bed.
It was identical in size to all the others, its waxy, midnight-black wrapper heat-sealed on the reverse with the blue wheel logo of the Big Circle. The only difference was the marking on the front. In this instance the pictograms were in red. Pan shuai ch’i, it read – ‘half-life’. The others had similarly strange names. He set it in its place and sat back, staring thoughtfully into the distance. He was still sitting there when Novacek came back.
‘What are these?’
Novacek hesitated, then laughed. ‘You know what they are.’
‘I know they’re drugs, but why are they so different? He said there was nothing like them in Chung Kuo. Why? I need to know if I’m going to sell them.’
Novacek studied him a moment, then nodded. ‘Okay, Shou Chen-hai. Let me tell you what’s happening… what’s really happening here.’
‘It’s all pipes now,’ said Vasska, his voice coming from the darkness close by. ‘The shit goes down and the water comes up. Water and shit. Growth and decay. Old processes, but mechanized now. Forced into narrow pipes.’
A warm, throaty laughter greeted Vasska’s comment. ‘Don’t we just know it,’ said Erika, her knees rubbing against Ywe Hao’s in the cramped space.
‘They fool themselves,’ Vasska continued, warming to his theme. ‘But it isn’t a real living space, it’s a bloody machine. Switch it off and they’d die, they’re so cut off from things.’
‘And we’re so different?’
Ywe Hao’s comment was sharp, her irritation with Vasska mixed up with a fear that they might be overheard. They were high up here, at the very top of the stack, under the roof itself, but who knew what tricks acoustics played in the ventilation system? She glanced at the faintly glowing figure at her wrist and gritted her teeth.
‘Yes, we’re different,’ said Vasska, leaning closer, so that she could feel his breath on her cheek. ‘We’re different because we want to tear it down. To level it all and get back to the earth.’
It was close to an insult. As if she had forgotten – she, who had been in the movement a good five years longer than this… this boy! Neither was it what she had really meant. They too were cut off. They too had lived their lives inside the machine. So what if they only thought they were different?
She was about to respond, but Erika leaned forward, touching her arm. ‘How much longer, Chi Li? I’m stifling.’
It was true. The small space at the hub hadn’t been designed for three.
‘Another five at least,’ she said, covering Erika’s hand with her own. She liked the woman, fo
r all her faults, whereas Vasska… Vasska was a pain. She had met his sort before. Zealots. Bigots. They used the Yu ideology as a substitute for thinking. The rest was common talk. Shit and water. Narrow pipes. These were the catch-phrases of the old Ping Tiao intelligentsia. As if she needed such reminders.
She closed her eyes a moment, thinking. The three of them had been together as a team for only six weeks now – the first three of those in training and in what they termed ‘assimilation’. Vasska, Erika – those weren’t their real names, any more than her own was Chi Li, the name on her ID badge. Those were the names of dead men and women in the Maintenance Service; men and women whose identities the Yu had stolen for their use. Neither would she ever learn their real names. They were strangers, brought in from other Yu cells for this mission. Once they were finished here she would never see them again.
It was a necessary system, and it worked, but it had its drawbacks. From the start Vasska had challenged her. He had never said as much, but it was clear that he resented her leadership. Even though there was supposed equality between men and women in the movement, the men still expected to be the leaders – the doers and the thinkers, the formulators of policy and the agents of what had been decided. Vasska was one such. He stopped short of open dissent, but not far. He was surly, sullen, argumentative. Time and again she had been forced to give him explicit orders. And he, in return, had questioned her loyalty to the cause and to the underlying dogma of the Yu ideology; questioned it until she, in her quiet moments, had begun to ask herself, Do I believe in what I’m doing? Do I believe in Mach’s vision of the new order that is to come once the City has been levelled? And though she did, it had grown harder than ever to say as much – as though such lip-service might make her like Vasska.
For a while there was only the sound of their breathing and the faint, ever-present hum of the life systems. Then, prefacing his remark with an unpleasantly insinuating laugh, Vasska spoke again. ‘So how’s your boyfriend, Chi Li? How’s… Wolf-gang?’ And he made the older man’s name sound petty and ridiculous.
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