“Won’t touch who?”
“The Wu. They say it will bring ill fortune.” Chen stared at his Captain, then, without a word, came across, pushing past him roughly.
Coming out into Main he saw at once what was happening. A dozen of his men had formed a wide circle about a seated man. Everyone else had moved away. Chen threaded his way through, ignoring the curious faces, coming out into the empty space surrounding the Wu.
Chang was indeed an old man, in his seventies at least, and as Chen stepped out in front of him, the Wu’s heavily lined face broke into a smile.
“Major . . . How can I help you?”
The WU had cast an oracle. The yarrow stalks lay in front of him, like spilled straws. Chen stared at them, then looked back at the Wu. “I’m told you killed those children. Is it true?”
The Wu’s smile broadened. “They were dying, Major. They had the Sickness.”
“But you killed them?”
The Wu nodded. “Did you not see their flesh? They were cursed, marked by Yen Wang, the King of Hells. They bore his sign.” Chen shuddered. “They were not cursed, old man, they were ill. What’s more, we have a cure for the Sickness. A medicine that takes away the rash. We could have saved the children.”
He heard the murmur of surprise go out, the low babble of urgent voices as those who had heard his words passed on what he’d said to those farther back.
“They were cursed,” the Wu insisted, his smile hardening. “That was no sickness. They had Yen Wang’s mark upon them. You saw it for yourself. And look—look at the oracle. See what it says! It is Ku, Decay. It exhorts us to work on what has been spoiled. And afterward—afterward there is order.” Chen felt himself go cold with anger. “How dare you use the Way to justify what you did! You cockroach! You evil fucking bastard!” He kicked the stalks away, then reached down, hauling the old man to his feet roughly. For a moment he glared at him, then, holding him straight, he slapped him hard, sending him sprawling. “They were children, you fucker! Sick little children!”
He drew his knife.
“Kao Chen!” his sergeant called to him, alarmed. “Think what you’re
doing!”
But Chen knew what he was doing. In his mind’s eye he could see those three tiny bodies and knew what he had felt in that first moment he had come upon them—how he would have felt had they been his. Stepping over the old man he reached down and grabbed his hair. Then, tugging his head back savagely, he drew the knife across his throat, ignoring the screams from all around him, holding the kicking man until he lay still.
“he’s here. . . .”
The sound of the cruiser’s engines echoed across the valley as it came in toward the landing strip. In the enclosure the four T’ang got to their feet and began to make their way across.
“So much for forty minutes,” Tsu Ma said quietly, glancing up at the big timer-board beside the platform. “More like an hour and a half. Where the hell has the fat bastard been?”
“Tsu Ma ...” Li Yuan said, whispering from the side of his mouth. “Be careful what you say . . . there are floaters everywhere.” “You should have banned them, Yuan,” Tsu Ma answered, falling into step beside him. “And you should have banned Wang’s Champion while you were at it. He’s much too good for our poor fellows. Did you see the way he trounced my man? I’ve never seen anything like it!” Li Yuan smiled. “It’s true. He plays like one possessed.” “Then let us hope his Master rewards him well. Not that our cousin has been noted for his generosity.”
Li Yuan looked down thoughtfully. On the platform, as they passed, the Champions stood hastily, turning to face them, bowing to the waist. “He cannot help that, Cousin. His City is poor.” Tsu Ma leaned in. “Maybe so. But who is to blame for that? His father, Wang Hsien, made that City strong—stronger than it had ever been. But that wastrel. . .” He gave a snort of disgust. Li Yuan smiled, answering Tsu Ma beneath his breath. “The world is watching us, Cousin. Let us at least pretend to like him for their sakes.” “For their sakes it would best if that obese obscenity were dead.”
Li Yuan turned toward him. “You mean that, Ma?” Tsu Ma looked away. “It is only what we all think. Even Hou Tung-po, were he pressed. Think, Yuan. What has the man ever brought us but trouble and dissent?”
It was true. Even so, Tsu Mas words shocked Li Yuan, especially as he had thought to utter them in so public a manner. All of the camera images were being studied carefully, of course, and their screening delayed a minute. In a control room at the heart of the palace a team of media experts were busy evaluating what could be transmitted to the people of Chung Kuo and what should be held back, and they had strict instructions not to transmit any word of what passed between the T’ang. Even so, he knew how much could be conveyed by body language alone, and the chance that Tsu Ma’s words might get back to Wang Sau-leyan was far from negligible. Ahead of them the Heads of the Minor Families, their sons and daughters, their wives and retainers, had risen at their approach and now stood, their heads lowered, as the four T’ang threaded their way between them. As they came out onto the lawn beneath the hangar, Wang’s cruiser was beginning its descent. An honor guard was forming up at the edge of the pad, their Captain barking orders.
Li Yuan made to walk on, but Tsu Ma took his sleeve. “No, Yuan,” he said, speaking over the roar of the engines. “The bastard’s made us wait. Let him come down to us.”
Li Yuan turned, looking to either side of him at his fellow T’ang, but they, like Tsu Ma, seemed content to stand where they were and await their cousin.
Inwardly he shrugged. We are like bickering children. Butmaybe Tsu Ma is right. Maybe it’s Wang who made us so. Certainly, I would not weep to hear of his death.
He watched the craft settle among the other imperial cruisers, the landing struts buckling slightly, like a giant spider’s knees, taking the craft’s weight. Briefly the engines rose to a crescendo and then the sound cut out. In the silence afterward he could hear the flapping of the banners. “Well...” Tsu Ma said quietly, “let’s hope they can squeeze him through the door, neh, or we could all be standing here a long, long time.” There was a loud metallic clunk as the door locks were automatically released and then a long hissing as the hatch began to open upward. “Smile, cousin,” Li Yuan said, whispering the words to Tsu Ma, who stood directly to his left. “Remember ... the world is watching us.” “And what will the world see? What kind of ad for the Seven is our obese cousin Wang?”
Li Yuan glanced at Tsu Ma, surprised once more by the bitterness behind his words.
“What is it, Cousin?” he asked quietly. “This is most unlike you.” In answer Tsu Ma lifted his chin, indicating the lifting hatch. “It’s him, Yuan. He makes a mockery of us all. To think that such a one could be a T’ang.”
Li Yuan looked back. The hatch was fully open now, like a single insect’s wing folded above the dark body of the cruiser. He strained his eyes, trying to see into the darkness, but it was hard to make out just what was happening within.
“The bastard will keep us waiting,” Tsu Ma said. “You can be certain of it. He’ll milk it to the last—“ Tsu Ma had barely uttered the words when there was a low chunking sound and something flew through the air overhead.
“What the—“
The explosion was deafening. The ground shook. Li Yuan turned, horrified. On the far side of the Gardens, where the great marquee had stood, a plume of black smoke was climbing into the still clear air. There was a moment’s shocked silence, and then the sound of small arms fire broke out close by. “Ko Ming!” Tsu Ma shouted, pushing Li Yuan down. “Fucking Ko Ming!” And then the ground nearby exploded.