CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Flood Tide
THE LAST THING HAD BEEN PACKED, the rooms checked one last time to make sure nothing had been overlooked. Now they were ready to go. Chen stood in the main bedroom, looking about him at the strange emptiness of it, remembering all that had happened there.
In some ways it all seemed like a dream. Finished with, it now began to lose its substance, fading into memory. All the joy, the suffering, he had experienced in these rooms—where were they now? He smiled wryly, surprised to find himself suddenly so morbid. A new life beckoned—the life he had planned ever since he’d first glimpsed the Plantations twelve years before—and here he was, musing on the past. Twelve years ... He frowned. Why had it taken him so long? Why had he let things drift so far? And yet pan of him understood. Life was never as simple as one planned. One’s feet were set on a course and it was hard to step from that path and take another. The T’ang’s service, his children, the troubles with Wang Ti, all had served to waylay him on the journey. “Chen . . . ?”
He turned. Wang Ti was in the doorway, watching him.
“I was thinking,” he answered her unspoken query. “Remembering.” She came across and stood by him, putting her arm about his waist, her head pressed against his shoulder. “Will you miss all this?” “I don’t know. There’s so much of us still here. We move our things, yet something remains of us, neh?” He paused, his rough, peasant’s face troubled. “I keep thinking, We raised our children here. . . .” “Yes . . .”He felt a tiny shiver pass through her, but when he looked she was smiling.
He laughed. “What was that for?”
“I was thinking of the best of it. The good times.” She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him on the nose. “You are a good man, Kao Chen. Not many men would have seen it through the way you did.” He looked back at her, his eyes taking in the sweet familiarity of her features. “I did what I had to. I had no choice.” “No ...” But he could see she was moved by the thought. For a moment he held her tightly to him, his eyes closed, savoring the warm pressure of her body against his own.
There’s no mystery, he thought. This is why. For this.
“Are the children ready?” he asked, nuzzling the top of her head.
“Marie’s sorted them out.”
“Ah. . .”
There was a knock at the outer door.
“That’ll be Gregor,” she said. “He said he’d try to come.”
Chen nodded, then released her, letting her go to answer it. This evening they would be there finally, on the Plantation at Kosaya Gora, the open sky above them, the soft earth beneath their feet, and all of this—this world of walls and levels—would be behind them. He smiled. Yes, I am looking forward to seeing sunlight and rain once more. He went out and greeted Karr, hugging him in a tight embrace. Kan-was irt full combat uniform. This evening he, too, would be gone, but to Africa. “Is it all done?” Karr asked, looking about him at the crates that were piled up in the hallway.
“Finally,” Chen said, and laughed. “And you? Do you know yet where they’re sending you?”
“To the Gold Coast,” Karr answered. “I’m told there’s been fierce fighting there.”
“Ah . . .” Chen answered, nodding, sobered by the thought. Karr had been appointed to command the first of the “People’s Armies,” as the media termed them. For the past month he had been drilling the raw recruits in the rudiments of soldiering, but from what he’d already told Chen they were still a good six months from being ready. “I don’t like it, Chen, but needs must, as they say.” He smiled. “My T’ang commands.”
“You should have come with us, Gregor. You and Marie and little May.” The big man smiled and shook his head. “No, Chen. There’s not room for two supervisors on one Plantation. And what else would I have done? Can you see me hoeing the earth?”
Chen laughed. “No. I guess you’re right. But I shall miss you, Gregor Karr. Come and visit us when the fightings over, neh? We’ll show you what you’re missing living this way.”
Karr grinned back at him, holding his upper arms. “I shall look forward to it.”
“And good luck, my oldest friend. Keep safe, neh?” Karr nodded, then looked past him to where his own wife stood beside Wang Ti in the kitchen doorway, cradling his child. “I shall,” he answered softly. “The gods know I have a reason to now.”
general rheinhardt stood to one side as the huge makeshift screen was lowered into place. Then, satisfied that the screen was properly positioned, the cameras functioning, he went and joined his officers at the side of the long table.
Nearby, facing Rheinhardt across the width of the table, stood Major Dehmel of City Africa’s Fifteenth Banner, his staff officers behind him. In the great hall below the platform on which they met, the remains of the Fifteenth Banner—some thirty-eight thousand men in all—were gathered, guarded by a double line of Rheinhardts troops in full combat gear. They sat there, waiting silently for their fate to be decided, their weapons taken from them, their morale low. For three weeks they had retreated southward, from Beni Suef to Asyut, fighting a desperate rearguard action, relinquishing stack after stack until, at last, they had been overwhelmed. More than four hundred thousand of their number had fallen or been taken captive. Now it was their turn to sue for peace.
As the great screen lit up, both sets of officers turned to it, bowing
low.
Seated upon the dragon throne the giant figure of Li Yuan, fifty ch’i tall and twenty broad, looked down on them.
General Rheinhardt. . .”he said solemnly. “Major Dehmel. . . Shall we begin?”
“Chieh Hsia...” Rheinhardt said, then, putting out a hand, indicated that Dehmel and his officers should sit.
The great table had been polished until it gleamed, its dark, wooden veneer clear save for two foolscap documents and a set of inks and brushes. One document was set before Rheinhardt as he sat; the other, a duplicate of the surrender terms, had been placed before the Major. “Before we commence our business here,” Rheinhardt said, sitting up stiff and straight as he addressed the men facing him, “let me say that I have nothing but respect for the men and officers of the Fifteenth Banner. You fought courageously against superior odds. There is no shame in what you do here today.”
He saw the nods of satisfaction at that and continued. “So ... let us begin.” He half turned, looking up at the screen. “Chieh Hsia? Do you wish to say anything before we sign?”
Li Yuan nodded, and as he did the camera focused in on his face, which expanded, filling the screen.
“Major Dehmel, Ch’un tzu . . . I wish only to endorse what General Rheinhardt said. I have seen how well your Banner conducted itself in the face of enormous and continuous pressure and in spite of quite horrifying losses and the most difficult circumstances. You have discharged your duty to your master well and paid fully the debt of loyalty you owed him. But now—now things have changed. The task of reunification and regeneration lies ahead of us, and I have need of such good and loyal men as you to help me in that task.”
The young T’ang paused, seeming to look out at each and every man there in the Hall. “In the circumstances I am willing to offer a commission to any officer of the Fifteenth Banner who wishes to serve me in the coming campaign. Likewise, should any ordinary serving member of the Banner wish to bear arms on my behalf, they shall have the opportunity to do so.” There was a murmur of surprise. Li Yuan let it settle. For a moment he simply looked down on them, his features stern yet compassionate, powerful and yet benevolent, and then he spoke again. “Those who have no stomach for the fight ahead will be interned for the duration of the campaign on half rations. Those who do and are prepared to swear the oath of allegiance to me here today will be given two weeks’ leave, will be placed on full rations immediately, and”—he paused significantly—“will have all unpaid back-pay met.” This time the noise from the floor was considerable. Slowly the T’ang’s face receded. Once again the screen showed him seated on his throne, a cold, slightly distant figure awaiting their answer. Rheinhardt looked at Dehmel across the table and saw how Li Yuan’s speech had affected him. The Major looked to either side of him, his eyes meeting those of his fellow officers; they nodded and then looked down, silently agreeing on something between them.