‘And if well, as a T’ang?’
He laughed. ‘Perhaps... but then again, perhaps not. They held such things as power and government as being of little importance. What they believed in was purity. All that was important to them was that the spirit be purged of all its earthly weaknesses. And because of that – because each new life was a fresh chance to live purely – they believed all life was sacred.’
A path led up from where they stood, its stone flags worn and broken, its progress hidden here and there by moss and weed. They moved on, following it up to the first of the ruined buildings. To either side great chunks of masonry lay in the tall grasses, pieces of fallen statuary among them.
In the doorway she paused, looking up at him. ‘I think they sound rather nice. Why did Tsao Ch’un destroy them?’
He sighed, then pushed through, into the deep shadow within. ‘That’s not an easy question to answer, my lady. To understand, you would have to know how the world was before Tsao Ch’un. How divided it was. How many different forms of religion there were, and every one of them “the truth”.’
She stood there, looking in at him. ‘I know my history. I’ve read about the century of rebellions.’
‘Yes...’ He glanced back at her, then turned away, looking about him at the cluttered floor, the smoke-blackened walls, the broken ceiling of the room he was in. There was a dank, sour smell to everything, a smell of decay and great antiquity. It seemed much colder here than out in the open. He turned back, shaking his head. ‘On the surface of things the Buddhists seemed the best of all the religious groups. They were peaceful. They fought no great holy wars in the name of their god. Neither did they persecute anyone who disagreed with them. But ultimately they were every bit as bad as the others.’
‘Why? If they threatened no one...’
‘Ah, but they did. Their very existence was a threat. This place... it was but one of many thousand such monasteries throughout Chung Kuo. And a small one at that. Some monasteries had ten, twenty thousand monks, many of them living long into their eighties and nineties. Imagine all those men, disdainful of states and princes, taking from the land – eating, drinking, building their temples and their statues, making their books and their prayer flags – and giving nothing back. That was what was so threatening about them. It all seemed so harmless, so peaceful, but it was really quite insidious – a debilitating disease that crippled the social body, choking its life from it like a cancer.’
Tsu Ma looked about him, suddenly angry, his eyes taking in the waste of it all. Long centuries of waste. ‘They could have done so much. For the sick, the poor, the homeless, but such things were beneath their notice. To purge themselves of earthly desires – that was all they were worried about. Pain and suffering – what did suffering mean to them except as a path to purity?’
‘Then you think Tsao Ch’un was right to destroy them?’
‘Right?’ He came across to her. ‘Yes, I think he was right. Not in everything he did. But in this... yes. It’s better to feed and clothe and house the masses than to let them rot. Better to give them a good life here than to let them suffer in the vague hope of some better afterlife.’
He placed his right hand against the rounded stone of the upright, leaning over her, staring down fiercely at her as he spoke, more passionate than she had ever seen him. She looked down, her pulse quickening.
‘And that’s what you believe?’ she asked softly. ‘That we’ve only this one life? And nothing after?’
‘Don’t we all believe that? At core?’
She shivered, then looked up, meeting his eyes. ‘One life?’
He hesitated, his eyes narrowing, then reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheek and neck.
‘Tsu Ma...’
He drew his hand back sharply. ‘Forgive me, I...’ He stared at her a moment, his eyes confused, pained. ‘I thought...’ He looked down, shaking his head, then pushed past her.
Outside the sky was overcast. A wind had blown up, tearing at the grass, rippling the surface of the pool. Tsu Ma knelt at its edge, his chest heaving, his thoughts in turmoil. One life... What had she meant if not that? What did she want of him?
He turned, hearing her approach.
‘I’m sorry...’ she began, but he shook his head.
‘It was a mistake, that’s all. We are who we are, neh?’
She stared at him, pained by the sudden roughness of his words. She had not meant to hurt him.
‘If I were free...’
He shook his head, his face suddenly ugly, his eyes bitter. ‘But you’re not. And the Prince is my friend, neh?’
She turned her face from him, then moved away. The storm was almost upon them now. A dense, rolling mist lay upon the hills behind the ruins and the wind held the faintest suggestion of the downpour to come. The sky was darkening by the moment.
‘We’d best get back,’ she said, turning to him. But he seemed unaware of the darkness at the back of everything. His eyes held nothing but herself. She shuddered. Was he in love with her? Was that it? And she had thought...
Slowly he stood, his strong, powerful body stretching, as if from sleep. Then, turning his head from her, he strode down the slope towards the horses.
On the flight down to Nanking, Tolonen played back the recording, the words sounding clearly in his head. Listening to his own voice again, he could hear the unease, the bitterness there and wondered what Li Yuan had made of it. Prince Yuan was a clever one, there was no doubting it, so perhaps he understood why the T’ang had appointed him to oversee the Project rather than someone more sympathetic. Maybe that was why he had left things unresolved, their talk at an impasse. But had he guessed the rest of it? Did he know just how deeply his father was opposed to things?
He sighed, then smiled, thinking of the reunion to come. He had not seen Karr in more than three years. Not since he’d seen him off from Nanking back in November 2203. And now Karr was returning, triumphant, his success in tracking down and killing Berdichev a full vindication of their faith in him.
Tolonen leaned forward, looking down out of the porthole. The spaceport was off in the distance ahead, a giant depression in the midst of the great glacial plateau of ice – the City’s edge forming a great wall about the outer perimeter. Even from this distance he could see the vast, pitted sprawl of landing pads, twenty li in diameter, its southernmost edge opening out on to Hsuan Wu lake, the curve of the ancient Yangtze forming a natural barrier to the north-east, like a giant moat two li in width. At the very centre of that great sunken circle, like a vast yet slender needle perched on its tip, was the control tower. Seeing it, Tolonen had mixed feelings. The last time he had come to greet someone from Mars it had been DeVore. Before he had known. Before the T’ang’s son, Han Ch’in, had died and everything had changed.
But this time it was Karr. And Karr would be the hawk he’d fly against his prey. So maybe it was fitting that it should begin here, at Nanking, where DeVore had first slipped the net.
Ten minutes later he was seated across from a young duty captain as they travelled the fast-link between the City and the spaceport. Things were tight here. Tighter than he remembered them. They had banned all transit flights across the port. Only incoming or outgoing spacecraft were allowed in its airspace. Anything else was destroyed immediately, without warning. So this was the only way in – underneath the port.
Karr’s ship was docking even as Tolonen rode the sealed car out to the landing bay. The noise was deafening. He could feel the vibrations in his bones; juddering the cradle into which he was strapped, making him think for a moment that the tiny vehicle was going to shake itself to pieces. Then it eased and the sound dropped down the register. With a hiss, a door irised open up ahead of him and the car slipped through, coming out into a great sunken pit, in the centre of which stood the squatly rounded shape of the interplanetary craft.
He could see the Tientsin clearly through the transparent walls of the car, its underbelly glowing, great wr
eaths of mist swirling up into the cold air overhead. The track curved sharply, taking his car halfway round the ship before it slowed and stopped. Guards met him, helped him out, standing back, their heads bowed, as he stretched his legs and looked about him.
He smiled, looking back at the craft. It had come all the way from Mars. Like a large black stone slapped down upon the great wei chi board of Chung Kuo. Karr. He could see the big man in his mind’s eye even now, lifting Berdichev and breaking him. Ending it quickly, cleanly. Tolonen sniffed. Yes, in that he and Karr were alike. They understood how things worked at this level. It was no good dealing with one’s enemies as one dealt with one’s friends. Useless to play by rules that the other side constantly broke. In war one had to be utterly ruthless. To concede nothing – unless concession were a path to victory.
As he watched, an r-shaped gantry-lift moved on its rails across to the craft and attached itself to a portal on its uppermost surface. He walked towards it, habit making him look about him, as if, even here, he might expect attack.
Karr was in the first lift, packed in with twenty or thirty others. As the cage descended, Tolonen raised a hand in greeting but stayed where he was, just back from the others waiting there – maintenance crew, customs men and guards. Karr was carrying a small briefcase, the handle chained to his arm. At the barrier he was first in the queue, his Triple-A pass held out for inspection. Even so, it was some three or four minutes before he passed through.
The two men greeted one another warmly, Tolonen hugging the big man to him.
‘It’s good to see you, Gregor. You did well out there. I’m proud of you!’
‘Thank you, sir. But you’re looking well yourself.’
Tolonen nodded, then pointed at the briefcase. ‘But what’s this? Don’t we pay you enough that you have to go into the courier business?’
Karr leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘It’s my gift for the T’ang. I didn’t want to say anything about it until I got back. You know how it is.’
Tolonen sighed. ‘I know only too well. But tell me, what is it?’
Karr smiled. ‘Berdichev’s files. His personal records. Coded, of course, but I’m sure we can crack them. If they’re what I think they are, we can polish off the Dispersionists for good.’
‘Unless someone’s done it already?’
Karr narrowed his eyes. ‘The Executive killings?’
‘It’s one of the theories we’re working on. Which is why I wanted you to take over the investigation from young Ebert. You’ve the nose for it.’
‘Hmm...’ Karr looked down. ‘I’ve read the files.’
‘And?’
‘They make no sense. There’s no real pattern to it. Good men and bad. It seems almost random. Except for the timing of it all.’
‘Yes. But there has to be a connection.’
‘Maybe...’ Karr’s face was clouded a moment, then he brightened. ‘But how’s that darling daughter of yours? She was a little tiger!’
Tolonen’s face lit up. ‘Gods, you should see her now, Gregor. Like Mu Lan, she is. A regular little warrior princess. Yes... you must come and train with us some time!’
Karr bowed low. ‘I would be greatly honoured.’
‘Good, then let’s...’
Tolonen stopped. A man was standing just to Karr’s right. Karr turned, reacting to the movement in Tolonen’s eyes, then relaxed, smiling.
‘First Advocate Kung!’ Karr gave a small bow and put out his left hand to shake the outstretched hand of the Advocate. ‘I hope all goes well for you.’
‘Thank you, Major. And your own ventures... I hope they prove successful.’
The Advocate hesitated, looking at Tolonen. Karr saw what his hesitation implied and quickly made the introduction.
‘Forgive me. First Advocate Kung, this is Marshal Tolonen, Head of the Council of Generals.’
Tolonen accepted the Advocate’s bow with a tight smile. He knew this game too well to be caught in the web of obligation.
‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Marshal Tolonen,’ Kung said, bowing again. Then he turned and clicked his fingers. At once his valet approached, handing him a small case. ‘However, it was you, Major Karr, whom I wanted to see. I was most grateful for your hospitality on board ship, and wanted to offer you a small token of my appreciation.’
Tolonen smiled inwardly. He would have to brief Karr afterwards on how to escape from this situation, otherwise First Advocate Kung would be calling upon him for favours from here until doomsday, playing upon the Major’s need not to lose face.
‘Thank you, Advocate, but—’
Karr saw the case falling away, Kung raising the handgun, both hands clasping the handle, and reacted at once, straight-arming Tolonen so that the old man went down. It was not a moment too soon. The explosion from the big old-fashioned gun was deafening. But he was already swinging the case at the Advocate’s head. He felt it connect and followed through with a kick to the stomach. Kung fell and lay still.
There was shouting all about them. The valet had gone down on his knees, his head pressed to the floor, his whole body visibly shaking. It was clear he’d had nothing to do with the assassination attempt. Karr turned, looking for further assassins, then, satisfied there were none, looked down at Tolonen. The Marshal was sitting up, gasping, one hand pressed to his ribs.
Karr went down on one knee. ‘Forgive me, Marshal, I...’
Tolonen waved aside his apology, the words coming from him wheezingly. ‘You... saved my... life.’
‘I wouldn’t have believed it. He was Senior Advocate on Mars. A highly respected man.’
‘Major!’ The call came from behind Karr. He turned. It was one of the spaceport’s Security captains.
‘What is it?’ he answered, standing, looking across to where the captain was kneeling over the fallen man.
‘There’s no pulse.’
Karr went across and knelt beside Kung, examining the body for himself. It was true. Advocate Kung was dead. Yet the wounds to the head and stomach were minimal. If he had meant to kill the man...
‘Shit!’ he said, turning to look at Tolonen, then frowned. ‘What is it, sir?’
Tolonen’s eyes were wide, staring at the corpse. As Karr watched him, the old man shuddered. ‘Gods...’ he said softly. ‘It’s one of them.’
Karr stared back at him a moment, then his eyes widened, understanding. ‘A copy...’ He turned and looked across at the valet. The man had been forced to his feet and was being held between two Security men, his head bowed in shame, his hands trembling with fear.
‘You!’ Karr barked at him, getting up and going across to him. ‘Tell me, and tell me fast, did you notice anything different about your master? Anything unusual?’
The man shook his head abjectly. ‘Nothing, honoured sir. Believe me. I knew nothing of his intentions.’
Karr studied the man a moment longer, then waved the guards away. ‘Take him away and interrogate him. Whatever it takes. I want the truth from him.’ He turned back. Tolonen was getting to his feet, one of the guards giving him a hand.
Tolonen turned, smiling his thanks, then put out his hand. ‘Give me your knife, Sergeant.’
The guard did as he was told, then stood back, watching as Tolonen limped slowly across to the corpse.
He met Karr’s eyes. ‘If it’s like the others...’ Karr nodded. They both remembered that day when Han Ch’in had been assassinated. Recalled the team of copy humans who had come in from Mars to kill him. And now here they were again. A second wave, perhaps. Tolonen knelt by the body, setting the knife down at his side.
‘Here,’ Karr said, coming round to the other side of Kung. ‘I’ll do it.’
If it was like the others it would have a metal plate set into its chest. The real Kung would have been killed months ago.
Tolonen handed Karr the knife, then sat back on his knees, rubbing at his ribs again, a momentary flicker of pain in his face. ‘Okay. Let’s see what it is.’
> Karr slit the Advocate’s tunic open, exposing the flesh, then, leaning right over the body, he dug deeply into the flesh, drawing the blade across the corpse’s chest.
Blood welled, flowed freely down the corpse’s sides. They had not expected that. But there was something. Not a plate, as they’d both expected, but something much smaller, softer. Karr prised the knife beneath it and lifted it out. It was a wallet. A tiny black wallet no bigger than a child’s hand. He frowned, then handed it across.
Tolonen wiped it against his sleeve, then turned it over, studying it. It seemed like an ordinary pouch; the kind one kept tobacco in. For a moment he hesitated. What if it was a bomb? He ought to hand it over to the experts. But he was impatient to know, for the man – and he was a man, there was no doubting that now – had almost killed him. He had been that close.
Gently he pressed the two ends of the wallet’s rim towards each other. The mouth of the pouch gaped open. He reached in with two fingers, hooking out the thing within.
He stared at it a moment, then handed it across to Karr. He had known. The moment before he had opened it, he had known what would be inside. A stone. A single white wei chi stone. Like a calling card. To let the T’ang know who had killed him.
Tolonen met Karr’s eyes and smiled bitterly.
‘DeVore. This was DeVore’s work.’
Karr looked down. ‘Yes, and when he hears about it he’ll be disappointed. Very disappointed.’
Tolonen was quiet a moment, brooding, then he looked back at Karr. ‘Something’s wrong, Gregor. My instincts tell me he’s up to something. While we’re here, distracted by this business. I must get back. At once. Jelka...’
Karr touched his arm. ‘We’ll go at once.’
DeVore turned in his chair and looked across at his lieutenant.
‘What is it, Wiegand?’
‘I thought you should know, sir. The Han has failed. Marshal Tolonen is still alive.’
‘Ah...’ He turned, staring out of the long window again, effectively dismissing the man. For a while he sat there, perfectly still, studying the slow movement of cloud above the distant peaks, the thin wisps of cirrus like delicate feathers of snow against the rich blue of the sky. Then he turned back.
An Inch of Ashes (CHUNG KUO SERIES) Page 4