Li Yuan looked past Shiao Shi-we at his brother. Han Ch’in had his head lowered and there was a slight colour in his cheeks. What has Han done now? he wondered, knowing how impulsive his brother was. Has he ‘died’ again?
Master Shiao sniffed loudly, then pointed to Han’s left. ‘Position.’
Han moved at once, standing where he had been only a minute or so before, facing the assassin. Shiao Shi-we gave a slight nod then positioned himself in front of his pupil. ‘Discipline,’ he said, crouching down and rubbing at his thighs, warming himself up. ‘Patience.’ He straightened, then twisted at the waist to left and right, relaxing the muscles there. ‘And control.’
Without warning, Shiao Shi-we launched himself at Han Ch’in.
Li Yuan gasped, startled by the abruptness of Shiao Shi-we’s attack. But Han had moved back and away, and Shi-we’s fist merely glanced the side of his face. Had it connected it would have broken his nose.
Han Ch’in moved quickly, breathing heavily, clearly shaken by the violence of the attack. Yet he made no complaint. Crouching, flexing his body, he prepared himself for the next attack, calming his breathing, repeating the triad in his mind. Discipline. Patience. Control.
The next assault was like nothing either boy had ever seen before. Shiao Shi-we ran at Han in a zig-zag, almost lunatic manner, his movements like those of an automaton. And as he ran a strange, unsettling scream came from his widely opened mouth.
Through half-lidded eyes Han Ch’in watched him come and, at the last moment, ducked and came up under the older man, tossing him into the air, then turned to face him again.
‘Excellent!’ Shiao Shi-we was on his feet, unharmed. He smiled momentarily, then grimaced as he threw himself at Han again.
So it went on, Shiao Shi-we attacking wildly, Han Ch’in defending, until, with a suddenness that was as surprising as the first attack, the old man backed off, bowing deeply.
‘Good!’ he said, looking at his pupil with pride. ‘Now go and bathe. Young Yuan must have his hour.’
Han bowed and did as he was bid. Li Yuan turned, watching him go, then turned back, facing Master Shiao.
‘You could have killed him,’ he said softly, still shocked by what he had seen.
Shiao Shi-we looked away, more thoughtful than Li Yuan had ever seen him before. ‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘I could have, had he not fought so well.’
‘Well, Chen, will you come to bed?’
Wang Ti pulled back the cover and patted the space beside her on the bed. Chen had been silent all day, angry with her for her intervention. She had understood and had gone about her business patiently, but now it was evening and Jyan was asleep. Now he would have to talk to her. She would not have him lie beside her still angry with her, his innermost thoughts unpurged.
‘Well, husband?’
He turned, looking across at her in the faint light of the single lamp, then looked down, shaking his head.
So. She would have to be the one to talk.
‘You’re angry with me still?’
He did not look at her, merely nodded. His whole body was stiff and awkward, shaped by the words he was holding back. She sat up, unfastening her hair, letting the covers fall from her breasts.
‘You would have said no.’
He looked at her mutely, looked away, then looked back again, his eyes drawn to her breasts, her shoulders. Meeting her eyes, he sighed and shrugged.
‘You would have said no. And then you would have felt trapped. Bitter. With me. With Jyan. I would have had to watch your joy in us turn to sourness.’
He began to shake his head but she was insistent, her voice soft yet firm.
‘It is so, Kao Chen. I know it is so. You think I could live with you this long and not know it?’
He looked at her uncomprehendingly.
‘I knew. Understand? Knew you were kwai.’
Chen’s eyes were wide. ‘You knew? When? How?’
She patted the bed beside her. ‘When I first met you. I knew at once. Even before my father told me.’
Chen crossed the room and sat beside her. ‘Your father? He knew as well?’
‘Oh, Chen. You think we didn’t know immediately? One look at you was enough. You were like a bird let out of its cage. We knew from the first that you weren’t born in these levels. And as for your papers…’
Chen looked down at her hand where it lay above the bedclothes and covered it with his own. ‘And yet you married me. Why, if you knew?’
She hesitated, then took his other hand. ‘You met Grandfather Ling?’
Chen nodded, remembering the wizened, grey-haired old man who had sat silently at the back of the room when he had negotiated for Wang Ti’s hand. He recalled how the old man’s eyes had followed his every movement.
‘Yes. I remember Wang Ling. What of him?’
Wang Ti smiled. ‘He was kwai. Like you. And, like you, he came up from the Net.’
Chen laughed, astonished. ‘And you say your father knew?’
‘He made… enquiries.’
Chen shook his head, astonished. ‘Enquiries… And none of you minded? You, Wang Ti… you knew and yet you didn’t mind what I was or where I’d come from?’
She drew him closer, her face only a hand’s width from his own, her dark eyes looking deeply into his. ‘You are a good man, Kao Chen. I knew that from the first moment I set eyes on you. But this last year I’ve seen you suffer, seen you put bit and bridle on, and my heart has bled for you.’
She shook her head, her teeth momentarily clenched between parted lips. ‘No, Chen, the big man was right. You are not a warehouseman.’
He shivered, then, slowly, nodded to himself. ‘Then it is as you said, Wang Ti. I will be kwai again.’
Wang Ti laughed softly, then drew Chen down beside her, drawing the sheet back to expose her nakedness. ‘Ah, you foolish man. Don’t you understand me yet? To me you have always been kwai.’
She reached down, freeing his penis from the folds of the cloth and taking it firmly in her hand. ‘Here, give me your knife, I’ll sheath it for you.’
The General leaned across the huge scale model of the Tzu Chin Ch’eng, the Purple Forbidden City, indicating the group of buildings gathered about the Yu Hua Yuan, the Imperial Gardens.
‘We could close the Shen Wu Gate and the Shun Ch’en Gate and cut off the six Eastern palaces and the six Western palaces, here and here. That would make things easier.’
Shepherd came round him and looked at the two huge gates at the rear of the Imperial City for a moment, then nodded.
‘Yes. But why stop at that? Why not seal the whole of that area off? That way we could concentrate on a much smaller area. In fact, why not seal off everything we’re not going to use? Close the Hung I Ko and the T’i Jen Ko, too. Confine the lesser guests to the space between the Meridian Gate and the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Likewise, confine those special guests who will attend the second ceremony to the Inner City and the Imperial Gardens.’
Tolonen shook his head. ‘Not possible, I’m afraid. Li Shai Tung has prepared a banquet for the lesser guests outside the Arrow Pavilion. He would lose face if he had to cancel that.’
Shepherd put his hand to his neck, rubbing away the tiredness. He had barely slept these last three days. And now this. He looked at the model, realizing once again how difficult Tolonen’s task was. The Ku Kung, the Imperial Palace, was composed of almost nine thousand buildings and measured more than two li in length, one and a half in width. It covered fifteen hundred mou – almost two hundred and fifty acres in the old measure. Even if they sealed off everything he had suggested, it still meant policing over five hundred mou.
He looked up from the glass-covered model to the original. They had set the table up in the centre of the courtyard in front of the Ta’i Ho Tien, the Hall of Supreme Harmony. In less than twelve hours the whole of this huge open space would be packed with courtiers and guests, servants and Security. He turned, looking back towards the Gate of Supreme H
armony and, beyond it, the five white bridges crossing the Golden Water. Would something happen here today? Would their enemies succeed? Or could they stop them?
They had talked late into the night, he, Li Shai Tung and Tolonen, knowing that the thing they had found – the ‘copy’ of Klaus Ebert – signified something hugely important. Copies of living individuals – it was something the Seven had long feared would happen, ban or no, and whilst the Edict carried the strictest penalties for straying from its guidelines in respect of human genetic technology, there had been numerous cases over the years where scientific curiosity had overcome the fear of punishment. Now those harsh measures were vindicated. With such copies in the world who could feel safe in their own body? Who could be trusted?
It was only two days since Wyatt’s execution and the shock of that still reverberated around the world. It might be that the Dispersionists planned to answer that. But it was more likely that they had set things in motion long before, hoping to maximize the impact of their scheme by striking when the whole of Chung Kuo was watching.
‘The gods be thanked we found the thing in time,’ Tolonen had said, showing the T’ang the holo of the copy Ebert. ‘At least we know what we’re looking for now.’ But Shepherd had had his doubts. What if it was a blind? What if all of this were some huge diversionary tactic, designed to make them look elsewhere while the real attack took place? ‘Would they waste two hundred million yuan on a decoy?’ Tolonen had asked him, and he had answered yes. A thousand million. Two thousand. Whatever it took to make them look elsewhere. But the T’ang had agreed with his General. It was a fortunate accident, Ebert returning to his office when he did, and anyway, the thing was too good a likeness to throw away so casually. It was clear that they had meant to kill Ebert and then penetrate the inner sanctum of the Imperial City. There would be others; Li Shai Tung was certain of it. They would set up the gates and check each guest as he entered. And not only guests, but Family and Seven too. For the good of all.
‘We’ll see,’ Shepherd had said, accepting his T’ang’s final word. But he had been thinking, And what if there are no further copies? What if they plan to strike some other way?
Tolonen had been considering his suggestion about sealing off parts of the Imperial City; now he broke into his thoughts. ‘Maybe you’re right, Hal. It would be no great task to seal off the whole of the western side of the City, likewise this part here in the north-east. There’s enough room here by the Southern Kitchens to take the overspill and it won’t interfere with the banquet.’
Shepherd yawned, then laughed. ‘Best do it quick, Knut, before we all nod off.’
The General stared at him a moment, then laughed. ‘Yes. Of course. I’m sorry, Hal. Would you like something to pep you up? My adjutant could fetch you something.’
Shepherd shook his head. ‘Thank you, but no. I don’t believe in tablets. They bugger my system. No, I’ll sleep when it’s all over.’
‘As you will.’ The General hesitated, then reached out and took Shepherd’s arm. ‘Are you feeling real?’
Shepherd laughed. ‘Real enough. Why’s that?’
‘The gates are ready. I wanted to test one of them. Will you come through with me?’
‘Of course. Lead on.’
At the Gate of Heavenly Peace, Shepherd stopped and let his eyes stray upward. Only one li away the blank, pearled walls of City Asia began, climbing two li into the heavens like the sheer face of a huge glacier, surrounding the ancient capital on every side. This, he reminded himself, was the centre of it all – the very heart of Chung Kuo. Where it had all begun more than a century ago. These had been the first stacks to be built, constructed to his great-great-great grandfather, Amos’s design. They towered over the old Imperial City. Yet, turning, looking back, he could not decide which was the greater. The new City was a magnificent achievement, yet did it have even a fragment of the grandeur, the sheer, breathtaking splendour of the Forbidden City?
Not the least part.
The gates had been set up in the space between the two Cities. Six lines of them, linked by a maze-like series of corridors, open to the air. It was a hasty, crude-looking arrangement. At various intersections between corridors watchtowers had been set up on stilts overhead, from which both manual and computer-controlled guns pointed downwards.
‘They’ll not like that,’ Shepherd said, turning to Tolonen.
‘No. I’m afraid they won’t. But for once they’ll have to put up with it.’
Shepherd shook his head sadly. It was bad. Particularly after the execution. It would give the impression that they were entering a new, more brutal era. What ought to be a day of celebration would, for many, take on far more ominous overtones.
But whose fault was that?
‘You really think you’ll catch some of these copies?’
The General smiled bleakly. ‘I’m certain of it, Hal. You think I’m wrong, I know. Well, it’s possible I am. Anything’s possible. Which is why I’ve prepared for a hundred other unpleasant eventualities. An assault from the air. Bombs. Assassins amongst my own elite guards. Poison in the food. Snipers. Treachery in a hundred different guises. I’ve read my history. I know how many ways a king can be killed.’
Tolonen’s granite face showed a momentary tiredness. ‘I’ve done dreadful things to safeguard my T’ang, Hal. Awful, necessary things.’
Yes, Tolonen thought. Like the killing of the fifteen men who designed these security gates. Fifteen more to add to the vast tally against my name. Good men, too. But their deaths were necessary. To safeguard the Seven. Because without the Seven…
He shuddered and pushed the thought away, then began to walk towards the gates. Shepherd fell in beside him, silent now, deep in thought. As they approached the nearest of the gates the elite guards came to attention, shouldering their arms.
‘Where’s the duty officer?’
‘Here, General.’ The elite squad captain hurried up, then came to attention, bowing formally to both men. ‘We’re almost done, sir. Only another twenty or so to test.’
‘Good. Then you’ll show us to one of the Secure Rooms. I want to show theT’ang’s chief advisor what we’ve prepared.’
The captain hesitated, about to say something, then bowed again. ‘Of course, sir. Please, follow me.’
They went to one of the larger gates. Steps led up inside. Behind a curtain was a richly upholstered chair. Surrounding the chair was a whole array of the most up-to-date medical equipment.
‘I’m impressed,’ said Shepherd, looking about him and touching various instruments familiarly. ‘It all seems very thorough.’
The General nodded to the medical technician who had hastily joined them and, without ceremony, began to strip off. ‘I’ll go first. Then you.’
Shepherd smiled. ‘Of course.’
There was a slight hiss from behind the curtain, then the sound of a wheel being spun.
‘Now we’re sealed in. If I’m not who I claim to be – if I’m a fake – then this whole cabin will be filled with a highly toxic gas.’
Shepherd laughed. ‘Then I’ll pray you are who you say you are.’
Tolonen nodded, then dropped his trousers and stepped out of his webbed pants.
‘You’ve some interesting scars, Knut.’
Tolonen looked down, then laughed. ‘Ah, yes. Believe it or not I got that from a woman. A she-cat she was.’ He smiled and met Shepherd’s eyes. ‘Ah, but that was long ago. Forty years now.’
He sat in the armchair and let himself be wired up. The technician busied himself about him, visibly nervous that he should be called upon to test the T’ang’s General.
The first tests were simple body scans. Then he was fingerprinted, his retinal patterns checked and his genotype taken.
The General looked up at Shepherd calmly. ‘If they’re like the Ebert copy then these first few tests should catch them. But I’m taking no chances. Anyway, while we’re testing for fakes, we can test for other things – psychological
indoctrination and drugs.’
‘It must have been hard for Klaus.’
‘He took it very badly.’
Shepherd looked away momentarily. ‘It must be disturbing to see yourself like that. Dead. Opened up like a sack of meat. Your own face white and cold.’
Tolonen said nothing for a moment, then nodded solemnly.
The technician had been waiting, listening to their talk. Now he pulled a large, dome-shaped machine down from above the General’s head.
Tolonen explained. ‘It’s basically a HeadStim. But it’s been rewired to monitor bodily responses. It flashes images at me – holograms of senior Family members – and monitors my pulse rate and heartbeat. Any abnormalities register on the telltale screen that side.’
He reached round the machine as the technician fastened it about his head, and tapped the tiny black screen there.
‘It also provides a full brain-scan.’
Shepherd looked at it thoughtfully. ‘As I said. Very thorough. If any more of these things exist, you ought to get them.’
The General made no answer. The test had begun. The technician glanced nervously at Shepherd, then busied himself again. Shepherd understood at once. If they found even one of these copies it would be neutralized immediately. That was good. But the unlucky technician who was in the secure room with it would be neutralized too.
‘I shouldn’t worry,’ Shepherd said reassuringly. ‘I doubt if any more of them exist.’
Outside, beyond the great walls of the City, the sun was rising over Pei Ching. The new day – the day of Han Ch’in’s wedding – had begun.
Maria stood in the doorway, looking in at her husband. Josef Krenek was dressing, his back to her. She watched him pull the new silk pau about him and fasten it with the cord. Then, and only then, did he turn to her.
‘What is it, Maria? Can’t you see I’m getting ready?’
She had dressed an hour back and had been waiting ever since for him to wake and dress so that she might talk with him.
‘It’s your brother, Josef. I think he’s ill. He hasn’t eaten for days, and when I went to wake him there was no answer from his room. He’s locked himself in and there’s no reply, either from him or from Irina.’
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