For a while neither spoke, but faced each other out, the sedan swaying about them. Slowly Ebert calmed, his breathing normalizing. Then, turning his face away, he laughed. ‘Go fuck yourself, Haavikko.’
At once Axel swung a punch, but Fest, anticipating trouble, had moved between them. He blocked the blow with his arm, then pushed Ebert away to the far side of the carriage.
‘For gods’ sake, Hans, shut up! As for you, Axel Haavikko, listen carefully. I don’t condone what Ebert said just now, but you had best just forget it. Understand?’
‘Forget it? How can I forget it? It undermines all we are. If I…’
Fest put his hand roughly over Haavikko’s mouth, glaring at him.
‘Forget it! Is that clear? Hans meant nothing by it. His temper was up, that’s all. Understandably, I’d say. The barbarian insulted him! Spat at his feet! Would you have stood as much?’
‘It doesn’t excuse…’ Axel began, but Fest silenced him with a look.
‘Enough! Do you understand? No one’s honour has been besmirched. What passed here… it was only words. Nothing to get fired up about.’
Axel looked across at Ebert, his face gone cold. Only words, he thought. Only words! He turned his head away, disgusted with them, aching to make Ebert eat the words he had uttered and annoyed with Fest for interfering. And understanding now the restraint the big man had shown back in his dressing room.
‘Well, Haavikko, some good came of the day after all.’
Tolonen leaned forward across his desk, steepling his big hands together. Karr had just left the office, escorted by two elite guards. His contract had been purchased and he had sworn the oath of allegiance to the T’ang and to General Tolonen. All three junior officers had been witnesses. But now the others had gone and Axel was alone with the General for the first time since the business in the carriage.
Axel hesitated, looking down at the old man. Tolonen had treated him like a son since he had become his duty aide. Had honoured him with advice and explanations. He had learned much in serving the General, but now things had changed.
‘Sir, there’s something I wish to speak to you about.’
Tolonen smiled good-naturedly. ‘Go on, boy.’
‘I’d… Well, I’d like a new posting.’
Tolonen sat back slowly, the surprise in his face quite marked. ‘What’s this?’ He drew his hands apart and set them down on the edge of his desk. ‘I don’t understand you, Haavikko. Aren’t you happy here? Don’t you like the job?’
Axel lowered his head. ‘I was, sir. And I did. But…’
Tolonen was looking at him strangely. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
He kept silent. Kept his head lowered.
Tolonen stood up and came round the desk. ‘Tell me, boy. What’s up?’
He looked up and met Tolonen’s eyes openly. ‘I’d rather not, sir. It’s just that I feel I can’t work here any more.’
Tolonen’s disbelief surfaced as a laugh. ‘What am I supposed to make of that? Can’t work here. Don’t feel like it. Tell me what happened.’
Axel took a breath. ‘Sir, I’d rather not.’
The General’s bark of anger took him by surprise. ‘Rather not? It’s not good enough. I’ll have no secrets here. You’ll tell me what happened. Why you want a new posting. I order you to tell me.’
Axel swallowed. He had hoped to avoid this. He had wanted to settle his score with Ebert directly, personally. ‘It’s Ebert, sir.’
Tolonen laughed uncomfortably. ‘Ebert, eh? And what’s wrong with young Ebert? Has he insulted you?’
‘No, sir. Not directly.’
‘Well, then, what was it? Don’t keep me guessing, boy. Spit it out.’
‘He was disrespectful, sir.’
‘Disrespectful, eh? To whom?’
Axel felt Tolonen’s eyes boring into his own. ‘To you, sir.’
Tolonen huffed. He was quiet for a moment, then shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it. His father is my oldest friend. He’s like a son to me, that boy. Disrespect?’ There was an ugly movement of the General’s mouth. ‘What did he say?’
‘I’d rather…’ Axel began, but Tolonen cut him off angrily.
‘Gods, boy! Don’t “rather not” me any more! Spit it out – if you’re accusing Ebert of disrespect I want to know the full details. And you had better have a witness. I’ll have no unsupported hearsay.’
Axel bowed his head dutifully. This was not how he had imagined it. He had thought the General would let him go – reluctantly, but without a fuss. This business of accusations and witnesses had come out of the blue.
‘It was earlier today, sir. In the sedan coming back. Fest was present, sir. He heard everything.’
Tolonen turned abruptly and leaned over his desk. Touching the intercom pad, he spoke to his secretary. ‘Have Cadet Officers Fest and Ebert brought back here, please. At once.’
He turned back, looking at Haavikko sharply. ‘So what did he say?’
Axel hesitated, the import of what he was doing suddenly striking him. There was much he disliked about Ebert – his arrogance and assumed superiority being the chief of them – but he had never intended to get the man thrown out of the service. If the charge of disrespect was proven he could be summarily dismissed from the force. For the first time since their exchange, Axel wished he had taken Fest’s advice and forgotten the whole business.
‘Well?’ The General’s roar brought him back to himself with a start. He looked up. Tolonen’s face was red with anger. ‘Do I have to drag it from you word for word?’
Axel shook his head. In a quiet voice he repeated Ebert’s words. Then what he had added afterwards.
Tolonen had gone quiet. He looked away, then back at Haavikko. ‘That’s it?’ he asked, his voice suddenly much softer. ‘Those are his precise words?’
Axel nodded curtly, a shiver running down his back. It was done. The accusation made.
The General shook his head slowly and turned away, moving towards the window. He gazed outward distractedly, then looked back at Haavikko. ‘You’ll be silent until I order otherwise. All right?’
‘Sir.’
There was a knock at the door.
Tolonen cleared his throat, then turned to face the door. ‘Come in!’
Fest and Ebert entered. They marched to the centre of the room and came to attention.
Tolonen came and stood directly before them, Fest to his left, Ebert to his right. Haavikko stood to the side, near the desk. From there he could see his two fellow cadets’ faces. General Tolonen was in profile.
‘Do you know why I’ve summoned you, Ebert?’
Ebert’s eyes went to Haavikko, then back to Tolonen. ‘I think I can guess, sir.’
Tolonen frowned. ‘Really?’
‘It’s Haavikko, sir. He insulted me. I had to slap him down.’
Tolonen turned to look at Axel, astonished, then looked back at Fest. ‘Is this true, Fest?’
Fest bowed slightly. ‘It is, sir. It was coming back here from the Net. The two had an argument. Haavikko was very offensive about Ebert’s father. Hans… I mean Ebert, had no option but to strike him.’
‘I see,’ said Tolonen. ‘And there was nothing else?’
‘Nothing, sir,’ answered Fest. ‘It was all very unpleasant, but we hoped it would be forgotten. Ebert feels his honour has been upheld.’
‘You’re certain of this, Fest? You’d swear to it under oath?’
Fest looked straight ahead. His reply was instantaneous, unflinching. ‘I would, sir.’
Tolonen considered a moment. Then he moved across until he was directly in front of Ebert. ‘Your father and I have been friends for more than fifty years, Hans. I held you as a baby. Played with you as a child. And I’ve always been proud of you as a soldier under my command. But a serious accusation has been levelled against you. One you must either admit to or deny completely.’
‘Sir?’Ebert looked puzzled.
Haavikko started forward
, then stepped back. The liars! The barefaced liars!
Tolonen turned, looking across at Haavikko. Then, in a cold, quiet voice, he repeated what Haavikko had said to him, all the while keeping his eyes on him. Finished, he half turned, looking at Ebert. ‘Well, Cadet Ebert? What have you to say?’
Ebert looked totally nonplussed. He said nothing, merely shook his head. It was Fest who answered for him, his face filled with indignation and anger.
‘But this is outrageous, sir! Ebert said nothing of the kind! This is just malicious claptrap, sir! Pure bile! An attempt to get back at Ebert underhandedly!’
Ebert had lowered his head. When he looked up there was a tear on his left cheek. ‘General Tolonen…’ he began.
‘Enough!’ Tolonen drew himself up to his full height. ‘Fest, Ebert, be kind enough to leave the room. I’ve heard enough.’
Axel, unable to believe what had happened, watched them leave, and saw, as the General turned to face him, Ebert smile triumphantly at Fest. Then the door closed and he was alone with the General.
‘You heard what they said, Haavikko. Explain yourself!’
Axel shuddered. ‘They were lying, sir. Both of them. Fest was covering for Ebert…’
Tolonen watched him coldly, then shook his head. ‘Take care, Haavikko. Don’t compound your error. You realize I could have you court-martialled for what you’ve done. Dismissed from the service. The only thing that stops me is the promise I made your dead father.’
The old man gritted his teeth, then looked away. His disappointment with Haavikko was written starkly in his face. ‘I thought better of you.’ He laughed – a sharp, bitter laugh – then turned away. ‘Get out of my sight, Haavikko. Right now. You have your posting.’
Three hours later Axel sat at the Security Desk at the lowest level of the Bremen Fortress, waiting for his new orders to come through. His kit – the sum total of his belongings in the world – was packed and stored in a back room down the hallway. To kill the time he had relieved the duty officer while he went to get ch’a for them both. The ninth of the evening bells had just sounded and it was quiet.
Outwardly he appeared calm as he sat there in the reception area. Inside, however, he seethed. Anger and bitterness at the General’s actions filled him to bursting. The General had done what he had had to do, and, in his place, he might well have done the same. At least, so the logical, reasonable part of him argued. But seeing it that way didn’t help. A gross injustice had been done him and his very soul felt bruised and raw. It was not justice he wanted but revenge. He felt like killing them. Slowly, painfully. Fest first, and then Ebert.
Impossible, he thought bitterly. And even if he did, they would come and take all those he loved in retribution. Sister and aunts and all. To the third generation, as the law demanded.
He looked down, momentarily overcome, then looked up again, hearing a noise in front of him.
The Han bowed low before the desk, then met Axel’s eyes. He seemed close to exhaustion and his clothes stank.
‘I need protection,’ he said. ‘There are men trying to kill me.’
Axel stared back at him, feeling empty. ‘It’s an evil world,’ he said, indicating a seat at the back of the reception area. ‘Sit down. The duty officer will see you in a while.’
He watched the Han turn and go to the seat, then looked away, paying no more attention to the man.
A minute later the duty officer was back. ‘You’re in luck, Haavikko,’ he said, handing him a bowl of ch’a from the tray, then taking a sealed packet from his jacket pocket and putting it on the desk in front of him. ‘It’s just come through. Your new posting.’
Axel stared at it a moment, then took it and broke the seal. He read it then looked down, his face momentarily registering his disgust. England! They were sending him to England, of all the godsforsaken places!
He tucked the orders away in his tunic pocket, masking his bitter disappointment, then drained his bowl at a go. ‘Thanks,’ he said, letting the other take his seat again. ‘I’ll get my kit and go.’
‘Yes, you’d better.’ The duty officer smiled sadly at him; an understanding smile. ‘Hey! And good luck!’
After he’d gone, the Han rose slowly from his seat and went across to the desk. The duty officer looked up, then set his ch’a down.
‘Yes?’
‘I need protection,’ the Han said tiredly, conscious he had used these same words earlier. ‘There are men trying to kill me.’
The officer nodded, then reached for his lap terminal, ready to take details. ‘Okay. What’s your name?’
‘Pi Ch’ien,’ the Han answered. ‘My name is Pi Ch’ien.’
Chapter 29
THE MOON DRAGON
Well, what are we to do?’
Lehmann turned away, looking out at the calm of the lotus-strewn lake; watching as one of the three GenSyn cranes he had bought only the day before lifted its long, elegant wings, then settled again, dipping its bill into the water. Behind him DeVore was pacing restlessly, slapping his gloves against his thigh. Lehmann had never seen him so agitated. Who would have believed that Yang Lai’s message carrier, his Third Secretary, Pi Ch’ien, would turn up again, like an envoy from the dead?
‘What do you suggest?’
DeVore came and stood by him at the open window. ‘You know what we must do. It’s what we planned for. In case this happened.’
‘You think it’s necessary? I mean… Yang Lai is dead. And Cho Hsiang and the two assassins. There’s nothing more to connect us. So what if the General has Pi Ch’ien? Pi Ch’ien knows nothing.’
‘Not so, I’m afraid. Pi Ch’ien has named Heng Chi-Po as his contact.’
Lehmann turned abruptly. ‘Minister Heng? Gods! And he has proof of this?’
‘No. But it isn’t a question of proof any more. The General plans to go to the T’ang with what he knows, proof or not. And the T’ang will tell him to investigate. We have to act now. To pre-empt the investigation.’ He paused, taking breath. ‘We have to sacrifice him, Pietr. We have to give them Wyatt.’
Lehmann turned back, facing DeVore. ‘You’re certain it’s the only way?’
‘It’s… necessary.’
Lehmann was silent. ‘All right. Do what you must.’
DeVore touched his arm. ‘Keep heart, Pietr. It’s a hard road, I know, but we’ll triumph.’
Lehmann looked down. ‘I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought…’
‘You thought you could keep your hands clean, neh?’
‘No. Not that. Just… he’s a good man. If there’s any other way… ?’
He looked up, meeting DeVore’s eyes, but the latter shook his head.
‘Don’t blame yourself, Pietr. Our hands are tied. Chung Kuo is to blame. This world of ours… it’s incestuous. You have only to scratch your arse and your enemy sighs with relief.’
‘True enough.’
DeVore pressed on. ‘Do you think I’d not be open if I could? Do you think I like all this deceit and double-dealing?’ He spat neatly onto the water below. ‘If I was open for a moment I’d be dead. And you. And all of us. So think of that, Pietr, before you get sentimental over Edmund Wyatt. He was a good man. But he also wanted what we want. Change. A break with the old order. Keep that in mind, Pietr. Don’t waver from it. Because if you doubt it for a moment you’re dead. You and all of us.’
Lehmann shivered, hearing how DeVore spoke of Wyatt in the past tense. But he could not argue. Their course was set now.
‘Then I must seem his friend?’
‘And I your mortal enemy.’
‘Yes.’ Lehmann looked out, watching one of the cranes glide slowly to the bank, then lift itself up onto the pale white rocks, ruffling its feathers as it settled.
The General waited on the central dais, holding himself stiffly upright in the tall-backed Summons Chair. To either side of the dais stood an honour guard of the T’ang’s own bodyguard, resplendent in their crimson combat silks, big men with shav
en heads and naked feet, while all around him the T’ang’s servants moved silently through the great hall, going about their business.
Only six hours ago he had contemplated this meeting with some misgivings, but now he felt confident, almost elated, the frustrations of the past three days behind him. He held DeVore’s file tightly in his lap, smiling inwardly. I’ve got you now, he thought. Both of you. You won’t wriggle out of this one.
He gazed ahead fixedly. Facing him, some fifty paces distant, was the entrance to the Hall of Eternal Truth, where the T’ang held audience.
The double doors were massive, twice as tall as they were broad. In silver across the black, leather surface, its circumference five times the height of a man, was drawn a great circle of seven dragons. At its centre the snouts of the regal beasts met, forming a rose-like hub, huge rubies burning fiercely in each eye. Their lithe, powerful bodies curved outward like the spokes of a giant wheel while at the edge their tails were intertwined to form the rim. It was the Ywe Lung, the Moon Dragon, symbol of the Seven. Tolonen could never look at it without a feeling of great pride – glad beyond words that it had fallen to him to play so large a part in defending that great and powerful circle, that his T’ang honoured him so.
Two bells sounded, the first sweet and clear, the second deep and resonant. Slowly, noiselessly, the great doors swung back.
The General stood, then stepped down from the dais, the file and the other papers held tightly against his breast. He turned to his left, then to his right, bowing his head stiffly to the two lieutenants, then marched forward ten paces and stopped, letting the honour guard form up behind him.
The doors were fully open now. He could see the T’ang at the far end of the Hall, seated on the high throne, atop the Presence Dais.
The T’ang’s Chancellor, Chung Hu-Yan came forward, greeting him.
‘General Tolonen,’ he said, smiling and bowing low. ‘You are most welcome. The T’ang is expecting you.’
‘It is good to see you, Hu-Yan,’ the General said quietly, returning both smile and bow. ‘I hope you’re well. And all your family.’
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