As the screen chimed he turned back, looking up into Michael Lever’s face.
“Michael...”
“Joe! You’ve heard, then.”
“Just now. I... Is Mary okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“Thank the gods!” He laughed, relieved. “What happened?” Michael frowned. “It’s not clear yet, but it looks like they were after Mary. The whole thing was set up very carefully.”
Kennedy stared at his old friend a moment, then nodded. “I’m sorry. It
must be a nightmare. Look, I’ll leave you be. If there’s anything I can do
. . .”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He cut connection, then turned. Jean was still watching him.
“What?” he asked, for once unable to read her. She came across and held him, clinging to him, it seemed, as if afraid to let go. “Let’s get away,” she said, a real urgency in her voice. “Now. While we still can.”
wu shih stared up at the screen, watching as a very angry Mary Lever talked into camera, pouring out all of her hurt and frustration for the viewing billions. Most of the T’ang’s senior officials stood behind him in the room. They had gathered at his urgent summons. Now they waited, wondering what he would do.
As the item finished, Wu Shih turned, his own anger on a very short fuse.
“Doesn’t anyone have any information on this?” Fen Cho-hsien looked about him, then decided to act as spokesman for them all. “First indications, Chieh Hsia, are that it’s the Black Hand. The ruthlessness of the attack—“ u—could have been carried out by almost anyone,” Wu Shih interrupted him. “No, Master Fen, I don’t believe it’s that simple. Besides, I thought we’d dealt with those bastards. Are you telling me that even after our action against them, they were still able to put a six-man squad into the field at a moment’s notice?”
“Maybe we were not as successful as we thought. It was, after all, hard to tell just how much of their organization we destroyed. This would surely be a perfect way for them to demonstrate that they survived our action.” “And have they claimed this outrage?”
Fen Cho-hsien looked down. All there knew the answer. “No, Chieh Hsia. But maybe that is because they would not wish to be associated with it publicly. They have as much reason as we to fear what she is doing, yet Mary Lever has won a great deal of support among what they see as their natural constituency. Word has got out down there about what she has been doing and a number of the media channels that serve the Lowers have picked up on the story. The Black Hand would know that and would undoubtedly want to do something about it. Any strengthening of her hand would be a weakening of theirs. The only answer would be to kill her. But to kill her and admit it... that would be a different thing.” Wu Shih stroked his beard, considering this, then frowned. “What you say has merit, Master Fen. Even so, I remain unconvinced. I have read General Althaus’s reports on the action against the Hand, and I tend to agree with his conclusions. We may not have destroyed their whole network, but we inflicted enough damage on them to make it unlikely, if not perhaps impossible, for them to mount an attack like this for some time. Yet if it wasn’t them, who was it? Who else would want Mary Lever dead?” “The Old Men, perhaps, Chieh Hsia?”
Wu Shih turned to his Minister of Trade. “Old men? Which old men, Minister Yun?”
“Forgive me, Chieh Hsia. I refer to a group of individuals who have formed a covert organization dedicated to bringing down Michael Lever. These are primarily his major trading rivals, but there are a lot of other interested parties, including a number of Lever’s father’s former allies.” “I see. And you think it’s possible they might have had a hand in this?” “More than possible, Chieh Hsia. To strike at Lever through his wife would be a most effective way of weakening him. It is said that he has relied heavily on her since his accident.”
Wu Shih nodded. It was an interesting possibility, and the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He had known, of course, that Michael Lever had made enemies, but it had not come to his notice that such opposition was organized. If they could use that. . . He went across and stood before his Minister. “Find out what you can about them, Minister Yun, and, if necessary, offer them encouragement. But be careful to make sure no trail comes to this door. If they succeed, they alone must be seen to be to blame.”
°Chieh Hsia!”
“Now go ... I wish to be alone.”
Slowly they filed from the room. Only his Chancellor, Fen Cho-hsien, hung back.
“Yes, Master Fen?”
“Forgive me, Chieh Hsia, but one small matter remains.” Wu Shih nodded, understanding without needing to be reminded. He had still to decide what to do about Kennedy.
It was very simple. His attempts to use Kennedy to bridle the North
American radicals had failed. The threat to his family had brought some
success, but increasingly Kennedy had tugged against the bit. The knife
had been held to his throat too long, perhaps, and, lacking use, the
weapon had lost its edge. Maybe it was time to remind him of its
sharpness.
“All right,” he said, “I want you to do this. . . .”
MICHAEL HEARD THE FRONT DOOR SLAM and got Up hurriedly from his desk. Crossing to the door he cursed the harness for slowing him down, yet without a succession of the lightweight exoskeletons he’d never have got close to being mobile again. Alive, he reminded himself. We’re both still alive . . . hang on to that!
He stopped just outside the door, seeing her at the far end of the hallway, talking to the staff who had gathered to greet her. For a moment he gazed at her, relieved simply to see her there, afraid that the image of her he’d seen on the screen had been a lie; then, starting toward her, he called her name.
“Em. . .”
She turned, seeing him, then rushed across and embraced him, burying her head in his chest, her hands gripping his back fiercely. “Em. . . Em . . .” he murmured, kissing the crown of her head, close to tears suddenly. “Was it awful?”
She looked up at him. “I’ve got to speak out, Michael. In public.” “I thought you said plenty,” he said, beginning to smile, but she put a finger to his lips.
“No. I mean about the Old Men—and Kennedy. All of it. What a stinking mess it all is. I’ve got to let them know.”
He frowned. “Kennedy? Why Kennedy?”
There was a sudden anger in her eyes. “Because he was behind this.”
“No. You’re wrong, Em. Joe just wouldn’t do something like that. It’s
not—“
“—his style?” She shivered. The tension in her was palpable. “Then why the meeting? It makes no sense. No, not unless he wanted me safely out of the way while his hirelings butchered my people.” Michael stared at her, astonished. “No ... No, Em. He’s not like that. Besides, he called me just after the news broke. He seemed really shaken up by it. Concerned for you.”
“Concerned? Wise up, Michael. What else would he do? No, it was a warning.
First the meeting, the polite request to back off, and then the attack.” “It was a coincidence, that’s all. Shit . . . you being with him, that probably saved your life!”
She stared at him. “What?”
“Think, Em. Think hard. Just what would he gain by having you killed?” “Nothing. But you’re not listening to me, Michael. He wasn’t trying to kill me, just warn me off.”