There was more jubilant laughter from the men gathered in the gallery room, then Douglas called for order and had the servants bring more glasses so they could drink a toast.
"To Soren Berdichev! And The New Hope!"
Two dozen voices echoed the toast, then drank, their eyes filled with admiration for the man at the center of their circle.
Soren Berdichev inclined his head, then, with a smile, turned back to the viewing window and gazed down on the scene below.
The scenes in the House had been unprecedented. In all the years of its existence nothing like this had happened. Not even the murder of Pietr Lehmann had rocked the House so violently. The defeat of the Seven's veto motion—a motion designed to confine The New Hope to the Solar System—had been unusual enough, but what had followed had been quite astonishing.
Wild celebrations had greeted the result of the vote. The anti-veto faction had won by a majority of one hundred and eighteen. In the calm that had followed, Under Secretary Barrow had gone quietly to the rostrum and begun speaking.
At first most of the members heard very little of Barrow's speech. They were still busy discussing the implications of the vote. But one by one they fell silent as the full importance of what Barrow was saying began to sweep around the tiers.
Barrow was proposing a special motion, to be passed by a two-thirds majority of the House. A motion for the indictment of certain members of the House. He was outlining the details of investigations that had been made by a secretly convened subcommittee of the House—investigations into corruption, unauthorized practices, and the payment of illegal fees.
By the time he paused and looked up from the paper he was reading from, there was complete silence in the House.
Barrow turned, facing a certain section of the tiers, then began to read out a list of names. He was only partway into that long list when the noise from the Han benches drowned his voice.
Every name on his list was a tai—a "pocket" representative, their positions, their "loyalty," bought and paid for by the Seven. This, even more than the House's rejection of the starship veto, was a direct challenge upon the authority of the Seven. It was tantamount to a declaration of the House's independence from their T'ang.
Barrow waited while the Secretary of the House called the tiers to order, then, ignoring the list for a moment, began an impassioned speech about the purity of the House and how it had been compromised by the Seven.
The outcry from the tai benches was swamped by enthusiastic cheers from all sides of the House. The growing power of the tai had been a longstanding bone of contention, even among the Han Representatives, and Barrow's indignation reflected their own feelings. It had been different in the old days: then a tai had been a man to be respected, but these brash young men were no more than empty mouthpieces for the Seven.
When it came to the vote the margin was as narrow as it could possibly be. Three votes settled it. The eighty-six tai named on Barrow's list were to be indicted.
There was uproar. Infuriated tai threw bench pillows down at the speaker, while some would have come down the aisles to lay hands on him, had not other members blocked their way.
Then, at a signal from the Secretary, House Security troops had come into the chamber and had begun to round up the named tai, handcuffing them like common criminals and removing their permit cards.
Berdichev watched the end of this process—saw the last few tai being led away, protesting violently, down into the cells below the House.
He shivered, exulted. This was a day to remember. A day he had long dreamed of. The New Hope was saved and the House strengthened. And later on, after the celebrations, he would begin the next phase of his scheme.
He turned and looked back at the men gathered in the viewing room, knowing instinctively which he could trust and which not, then smiled to himself. It began here, now. A force which all the power of the Seven could not stop. And the Aristotle file would give it a focus, a sense of purpose and direction. When they saw what had been kept from them, there would be no turning back. The file would bring an end to the rule of Seven.
Yes. He laughed and raised his glass to Douglas once again. It had begun. And who knew what kind of world it would be when they had done with it?"
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Darkening of the Light
IT w A S two in the morning and outside the Berdichev mansion, in the ornamental gardens, the guests were still celebrating noisily. A line of sedans waited on the far side of the green, beneath the lanterns, their pole-men and guards in attendance nearby, while closer to the house a temporary kitchen had been set up. Servants moved busily between the guests, serving hot bowls of soup or noodles, or offering more wine.
Berdichev stood on the balcony, looking down, studying it all a moment. Then he moved back inside, smiling a greeting at the twelve men gathered there.
>• These were the first of them. The ones he trusted most. He looked across at the servant, waiting at his request in the doorway, and gave the signal. The servant—a "European," like all his staff these days—returned a moment later with a tray on which was a large potbellied bottle and thirteen delicate porcelain bowls. The servant placed the tray on the table, then, with a deep bow, backed away and closed the door after him. They were alone.
Berdichev's smile broadened. "You'll drink with me chun t'tul" He held up the bottle—a forty-year-old S/iou Hsing peach brandy—and was greeted with a murmur of warm approval. He poured, then handed out the tiny bowls, conscious that the eyes of the "gentlemen" would from time to time move to the twelve thick folders laid out on the table beside the tray.
520
He raised his bowl. "Kan pei!"
"Kan pei!" they echoed and downed their brandies in one gulp.
"Beautiful!" said Moore with a small shudder. "Where did you get it, Soren? I didn't think there was a bottle of Shou Hsing left in all Chung Kuo that was over twenty years old."
Berdichev smiled. "I have two cases of it,'John. Allow me to send you a bottle." He looked about him, his smile for once unforced, quite natural. "And all of you chun t'zu, of course."
Their delight was unfeigned. Such a brandy must be fifty thousand yuan a bottle at the least! And Berdichev had just given a case of it away!
"You certainly know how to celebrate, Soren!" said Parr, coming closer and holding his arm a moment. Parr was an old friend and business associate, with dealings in North America.
Berdichev nodded. "Maybe. But there's much to celebrate tonight. Much more, in fact, than any of you realize. You see, my good friends, tonight is the beginning of something. The start of a new age."
He saw how their eyes went to the folders again.
"Yes." He went to the table and picked up one of the folders. "It has to do with these. You've noticed, I'm sure. Twelve of you and twelve folders." He looked about the circle of them, studying their faces one last time, making certain before he committed himself.
Yes, these were the men. Important men. Men with important contacts. But friends too—men he could trust. They would start it for him. A thing which, once begun, would prove irresistible. And, he hoped, irreversible.
"YouVe all wondering why I brought you up here, away from the celebrations? You're also wondering what it has to do with the folders. Well, I'll keep you wondering no longer. Refill your glasses from the bottle, then take a seat. What I'm about to tell you may call for a stiff drink."
There was laughter, but it was muted, tense. They knew Soren Berdichev well enough to know that he never played jokes, or,made statements he could not support.