An Inch of Ashes (CHUNG KUO SERIES)

by David Wingrove

  Mach studied him thoughtfully a moment, then nodded. ‘Yes. But I must go. Before they hear...’

  Haavikko closed the door behind him then gave a small shudder, staring at the tiny slip of plastic in his hand. His senior officer had been only too glad to approve his new posting. From Major Erickson’s viewpoint it must have seemed a blessing to be rid of him. He had been nothing but trouble. But now he was Karr’s man; part of his special services unit. Still a lieutenant, but with a future now. And a friend.

  He was meeting Kao Chen in two hours, but first there was one more thing to sort out. His sister, Vesa.

  Vesa had been living in a small apartment in the Mids since their aunt had died a year back. Wrapped up in his own debauchery, he had not known of her plight until recently. But now he could do something. The job with Karr brought with it a private living unit in Bremen: four rooms, including the luxury of his own private bathroom. ‘But you’ll not be there that often,’ Karr had warned him. ‘Why not move your sister in?’

  Vesa had jumped at the idea. She had held on to his neck and wept. Only then had he realized how lonely she had been, how great his neglect, and he had cried and held her tightly. ‘It’s all right,’ he had whispered, kissing her neck. ‘Everything will be all right.’

  He tucked the transfer document into his tunic, then hurried along the corridors, taking a crowded lift down to the living quarters in the heart of the great multi-stack fortress.

  She was waiting for him in the apartment. As he came in, she got up from the couch and came across, embracing him, her eyes bright with excitement.

  ‘This is wonderful, Axel! We’ll be happy here. I know we will.’

  He smiled and held her to him, looking about the room. The apartment she had been in had been a single room – like his own, spartanly furnished – and she’d had to share washing and night-soil facilities. He gritted his teeth against the shame that welled up at the thought of what he’d let happen to her, then met her eyes again, smiling.

  ‘We’ll get a few bits and pieces, neh? Brighten things up a bit. Make it more personal. More us.’

  She smiled. ‘That would be nice.’

  He let her go then stood there, watching her move about the room, disturbed by the thoughts, the memories that insisted on returning to him in her presence. He kept thinking of the girl in Mu Chua’s House of the Ninth Ecstasy; the sing-song girl, White Orchid, who had looked so much like Vesa. He looked down. That was all behind him now.

  ‘I thought I might cook you something ...’

  He went across. ‘Vesa, look... I’m sorry, but there’s something I have to do tonight. Something urgent.’

  She turned and looked at him, her disappointment sharp. ‘But I thought...’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry, I...’

  ‘Is it your new job?’

  He swallowed. ‘Yes...’ He hated lying to her, even over something as innocent as this, but it was important that she didn’t get involved. It would be dangerous pinning Ebert down and he didn’t want to put her at risk. Not for a single moment.

  She came across. ‘Never mind. Tomorrow night, neh? I’ll cook something special.’ She hesitated, watching his face, then smiled, her voice softening. ‘You know, Axel, I’m proud of you. I always have been. You were always something more to me than just my big brother. You were like—’

  ‘Don’t...’ he said softly, hurt by her words. Even so, he could not disillusion her; could not tell her the depths to which he had sunk. One day, perhaps, but not now. Maybe when he had nailed Ebert and the truth was out he would tell her everything. But not before.

  Her eyes blazed with her fierce sisterly love of him. That look, like purity itself, seared him. He let his eyes fall before it.

  ‘I must go.’ He kissed her brow, then turned away, picking up the bag he had packed earlier. He went to the small desk in the corner and took a tiny notebook from the drawer.

  ‘Your new job... is it dangerous?’

  ‘It might be.’

  ‘Then you’d best have this.’

  She placed something in his left hand. It was a pendant on a chain. A circle of black and white jade, the two areas meeting in a swirling S shape. A tai chi, the symbol of the Absolute – of Yin and Yang in balance. He stared at it a moment, then looked up at her.

  ‘It was Father’s,’ she said to his unspoken question. ‘He left it to me. But now it’s yours. It will protect you.’

  He set his bag down and slipped the pendant over his neck, holding the jade circle a moment between his fingers, feeling the cool smoothness of its slightly convex surface, then tucked it away beneath his tunic.

  He leaned forward and kissed her. ‘Thank you... I’ll treasure it.’

  ‘And, Axel?’

  He had bent down to lift his bag again. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thank you... for all of this.’

  He smiled. Yes, he thought, but I should have done it years ago.

  Klaus Ebert poured two brandies from the big decanter then turned back, offering one to his son.

  ‘Here...’

  Hans raised his glass. ‘To you, Father.’

  Klaus smiled and lifted his glass in acknowledgment. He studied his son a moment, the smile never leaving his face, then nodded.

  ‘There’s something I wanted to speak to you about, Hans. Something I didn’t want to raise earlier, while Mother was here.’

  Hans raised his eyebrows, then took a deep swig of the brandy. ‘The Company’s all right, isn’t it?’

  His father laughed. ‘Don’t you read your reports, Hans? Things have never been healthier. We’re twice the size we were five years back. If this continues...’

  Hans reached out and touched his father’s arm. ‘I read the reports, Father. But that isn’t what I meant. I’ve heard rumours about trouble in the mining colonies.’

  ‘Yes...’ Klaus eyed his son with new respect. He had only had the reports himself last night. It was good to see that, with all his other duties, Hans kept himself astride such matters. He smiled. ‘That’s all in hand. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s something more personal.’

  Hans laughed, showing his fine, strong teeth. ‘I thought we’d settled that. The Marshal’s daughter seems a fine young woman. I’m proud of the way she handled those assassins. She’ll make me a good wife, don’t you think?’

  Klaus nodded, suddenly awkward. ‘Yes... Which is why I felt I had to speak to you, Hans. You see, I’ve been approached by Minister Chuang.’

  Hans’s look of puzzlement warmed him, reassured him. He had known at once that it was only vicious rumour. For his son to be involved in such an unsavoury business was unthinkable.

  ‘I saw the Minister this morning,’ he continued. ‘He insisted on coming to see me personally. He was... most distressed. His wife, you see...’

  He hesitated, thinking that maybe he should drop the matter. It was clear from Hans’s face that he knew nothing about the allegations.

  Hans was shaking his head. ‘I don’t follow you, Father. Is his wife ill?’

  ‘Do you know the woman?’

  ‘Of course. She’s quite a popular figure in social circles. I’ve met her... what?... a dozen, maybe fifteen times.’

  ‘And what do you make of her?’

  Hans laughed. ‘Why?’ Then he frowned, as if suddenly making the connection. He set his glass down, anger flaring in his eyes. ‘What is this? Is the Minister alleging something between me and his wife?’

  Klaus gave the slightest nod, grateful to his son for articulating it; gratified by the anger he saw in his son’s face.

  ‘Well, damn the man!’ Hans continued. ‘And damn his wife! Is this the way they repay my friendship – with slurs and allegations?’

  Klaus reached out and held his son’s shoulder. ‘I understand your anger, Hans. I too was angry. I told the Minister that I found his allegations incredible. I said that I would not believe a son of mine could behave as he was alleging you had behaved.’
He shuddered with indignation. ‘Furthermore, I told him either to provide substantive proof of his allegations or be prepared to be sued for defamation of character.’

  Hans was staring at his father wide-eyed. ‘And what did the Minister say to that?’

  Klaus shivered again, then he gave a small laugh. ‘He was most put out. He said his wife had insisted it was true.’

  ‘Gods... I wonder why? Do you think...?’

  ‘Think what?’

  Hans let out a long breath. ‘Perhaps I spurned the woman somehow. I mean, without knowing it... She’s always been one to surround herself with young bucks. Perhaps it was simply because I’ve never fawned over or flattered her. Maybe her pride was hurt by that... Did the Minister say how or why she broke this incredible news to him? It seems... most extraordinary.’

  Klaus shook his head. ‘I never thought to ask. I was so outraged...’

  ‘Of course. Perhaps the Minister had a row with his wife and to wound him she used my name. After all, you’d not expect the woman to use the name of one of her real lovers, would you?’

  Klaus shrugged, out of his depth. ‘I guess not...’

  ‘Still... the nerve of it! To drag me into her sordid affairs. I’ve a mind to confront her and her husband and have it out with them.’

  Klaus’s fingers tightened on his son’s shoulder. ‘No, Hans. I’d prefer it if you didn’t. I think it best if we keep the Minister and his wife at a distance.’

  ‘But, Father...’

  ‘No. I felt I had to mention it to you, but let this be the end of it. All right?’

  Hans bowed his head. ‘As my father wishes.’

  ‘Good. Then let us talk of more pleasant matters. I hear young Jelka is being sent home tomorrow. Perhaps you should visit her, Hans. You could take her a small gift...’

  Klaus nodded to himself, then drained his glass. Yes, it was probably as Hans said: there had been a row and Chuang’s wife had used Hans’s name to spite her husband. It was not Minister Chuang’s fault. He had reacted as any man would. No, the woman was clearly to blame for everything. In the circumstances it would be inadvisable to allow bad feeling to develop from such shadows. Worse still to make an enemy of the Minister. Tomorrow he would send a gift – one of the new range of creatures, perhaps – to smooth things over.

  He looked at his son again and smiled, pleased by what he saw. He could not have made a finer creature in his own vats. Though he said it himself, Hans was a masterpiece of genetics – the end product of two centuries of breeding. Like a god, he was. A king among men.

  His smile softened. It was as the Seven said, there were levels among men, and Hans, his son, was at the pinnacle. He watched him drain his glass then smile back at him.

  ‘I must get back. You know how it is...’ Hans hesitated, then came forward and kissed his father’s cheek. ‘But thank you.’

  Klaus grinned. ‘For what? I am your father, Hans. Who, if not I, should defend you against such slanders? Besides, who knows you better than I, neh?’

  Hans stepped back, then gave a small bow. ‘Even so...’

  Klaus lifted his chin, dismissing him. ‘Go on, boy. Duty calls.’

  Hans grinned, then turned away. When he was gone Klaus Ebert went across to the decanter and poured himself a second brandy. In times like these he was fortunate to have such a son. The kind of son a man could be proud of. A king. He smiled and raised the glass, silently toasting his absent son, then downed the drink in a single, savage gulp. Yes, a king among men.

  Haavikko was sitting in Wang Ti’s kitchen, Kao Chen’s two-year-old daughter, Ch’iang Hsin, snuggled in his lap. Across from him Chen busied himself at his wife’s side, preparing the meal. At his feet their five-year-old, Wu, was waging a ferocious battle between two armies of miniature dragons, their tiny power packs making them seem almost alive.

  Looking about him, it was hard to imagine anything quite so different from the world he had inhabited these past ten years – a world as divorced from this simple domesticity as death was from life. He shuddered, thinking of it. A world of swirling smoke and smiling wraiths.

  Wang Ti turned to him, wiping her hands on a cloth. ‘And your sister, Axel? How is she?’

  He smiled. ‘She’s fine, Wang Ti. Never happier.’

  She looked at him a moment, as if to read him, then smiled. ‘That’s good. But you need a woman, Axel Haavikko. A wife.’

  Chen laughed and glanced round. ‘Leave the poor boy alone, Wang Ti. If he wants a wife he’ll find one soon enough. After all, he’s a handsome young man. And if an ugly fellow like me can find a wife...’

  Wang Ti shook her head. ‘Ugly is as ugly does. Never forget that, husband. Besides, if I close my eyes you are the handsomest of men!’

  Husband and wife laughed; real warmth – a strong, self-deprecating humour – in their laughter.

  ‘Anyway,’ Chen added after a moment, ‘marriage isn’t always such a good thing. I hear, for instance, that our friend Ebert is to be married to the Marshal’s daughter.’

  Haavikko looked down, his mood changed utterly by the mention of Ebert.

  ‘Then I pity the girl. The man’s a bastard. He cares for nothing except his own self-gratification. Ask anyone who’s served with him. They’ll all tell you the same...’

  Chen exchanged a brief look with Wang Ti as she set the bowls down on the table, then nodded. ‘Or would, if they weren’t so afraid of crossing him.’

  Haavikko nodded. ‘That’s the truth. I’ve been watching him these past few weeks – spying on him, you might say – and I’ve seen how he surrounds himself with cronies. A dozen or more of them at times. He settles all their Mess bills and buys them lavish presents. In return they suck up to him, hanging on to his every word, laughing on cue. You know the kind. It’s sickening. They call him “the Hero of Hammerfest”, but he’s just a shit. A petty little shit.’

  Chen wiped his hands, then sat down across from Axel, his blunt face thoughtful. ‘I know. I’ve seen it myself. But I can understand it, can’t you? After all, as the world sees it he’s a powerful man – a very powerful man – and those sucking up to him are only little men, hsiao jen. Socially they’re nothing without him. But they hope to grow bigger by associating with him. They hope to rise on his coat tails.’

  Wang Ti had been watching them, surprised by their change of mood. Gently, careful not to wake the sleeping child, she took Ch’iang Hsin from Haavikko’s lap, then turned, facing her husband, the child cradled against her. ‘Why so bitter, husband? What has the man ever done to you?’

  ‘Nothing...’ Chen said, meeting her eyes only briefly.

  Haavikko looked between the two momentarily, noting the strange movement of avoidance in Chen’s eyes, knowing it signified something, then leaned towards him again.

  ‘There’s one particularly vile specimen who hangs about with him. A man by the name of Fest. He was a cadet with me, and afterwards he served with Ebert and me under Tolonen. He’s a captain now, of course. But back then...’ Axel shuddered, then continued, ‘Well, he was partly to blame for my downfall.’

  Chen looked past Axel momentarily, lifting his chin, indicating to Wang Ti that she should wait in the other room, then he looked back at Axel, his face creased with concern, his voice suddenly softer, more sympathetic.

  ‘What happened?’

  Haavikko hesitated, then gave a small, bitter laugh. ‘It was different then. I can see that now. The world, I mean. It was shaped differently. Not just in my head, but in its externals. You could trust the appearance of things much more. But even then there were some – Ebert among them – who were made... crooked, you might say. Twisted. And it’s in their nature to shape others in their own distorted form.’

  He glanced up, giving a little shiver, the sheer rawness of the hurt in his eyes making Chen catch his breath.

  ‘We’d gone down to the Net, the day it happened. Ebert, Fest and I. We were after the assassins of the T’ang’s Minister, Lwo Kang, and had b
een told to wait for a contact from our Triad connections there. Well, I didn’t know that Ebert had arranged for us to stay in a sing-song house. It began there, I guess. He had me drugged and I... well, I woke up in bed with one of the girls. That was the start of it. It doesn’t seem much, looking back, but it’s... well, it’s like I was clean before then; another person, unsullied, untouched by all those darker things that came to dominate me.’

  ‘And that’s what happened?’

  Haavikko gave a bitter laugh. ‘No. But that was where it began. I can see that now. The two things are inseparable. That and what followed. They were part of the same process. Part of the twistedness that emanates from that man.’

  ‘Ebert, you mean?’

  Haavikko nodded. ‘Anyway... It was later that day. After we’d found the corpses of the assassins. After we’d gone to the Pit and seen Karr defeat and kill the adept, Hwa. Ebert made us go to the dressing rooms after the fight. He wanted to take Karr out to supper and share in his victory. It was something he didn’t own, you see, and he wanted to buy it. But Karr was having none of it. And then Tolonen arrived and accepted Karr’s services as guide. Oh, it’s all linked. I see that clearly now. But back then... well, I thought things just happened – you know the saying, Mei fa tzu, it’s fate. But there was a design to it. A shape.’

  Haavikko paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath, then continued.

  ‘It was as we were coming away from the assassin’s apartment. We were in the sedan: Ebert, Fest and I. Ebert was sounding off, first about Karr and then about the General. He said things that he would never have dared say to the General’s face. When I called him out for it, Fest came between us. He told me to forget what was said. But I couldn’t...’

  Haavikko was silent a moment, looking down at his hands. When he looked up again there was a strange sadness in his eyes.

  ‘I don’t regret what I did. Even now I don’t think I could have acted any other way. It was just... well, let me tell you. When I was alone with the General I asked to be transferred. I felt unclean, you see. Of course, the old man asked me for my reasons. But when I tried to avoid giving them he ordered me to tell him what was up. So I did. I told him what was said in the sedan.’