The big man's laughter was tinged this time with a faint amusement. His eye, however, was cold, calculating. It stared challengingly at Chen from within its glasslike mask.
Chen stared back at it, meeting its challenge, not letting himself be cowed. If it came to a fight, so be it. Whiskers Lu would be a hard man to kill, and the odds were that Lu and his two henchmen would get the better of Jyan and himself. But he would not make it easy for them. They would know they had fought a kwcd.
Whiskers Lu broke eye contact, looking down at Jyan, his thin lips smiling again.
"You owe me money, Kao Jyan."
Jyan was staring down at his tumbler. "I have a week yet, Lu Ming-Shao. Don't you remember?"
"Oh, I remember. But I want my money now. With interest.
Twelve hundred yuan I want from you, Kao Jyan. And I want it now."
Almost unobtrusively Whiskers Lu had slipped the knife from his belt and raised it to Jyan's neck. The huge wide blade winked in the faint overhead light. The razor-sharp tip pricked the flesh beneath Jyan's chin, making him wince.
Chen let his hand slide slowly down his leg, his fingers closing about the handle of his knife. The next few moments would be crucial.
"Twelve hundred?" Jyan said tensely. "Surely, our agreement said—"
Jyan stopped, catching his breath. Whiskers Lu had increased the pressure of the knife against his flesh, drawing blood. A single bead trickled slowly down Jyan's neck and settled in the hollow above his chest. Jyan swallowed painfully.
"You want it now?"
"That's right, Kao Jyan. I've heard you've been borrowing elsewhere. Playing the field widely. Why's that, Kao Jyan? Were you planning to leave us?"
Jyan looked up, meeting Chen's eyes. Then, slowly, carefully, he reached up and moved the knife aside, turning to look up into Whiskers Lu's face.
"You mistake me, Lu Ming-Shao. I'm happy here. My friends are here. Good friends. Why should I want to leave?" Jyan smiled, then swept his hand over the table, indicating the empty chairs. "Look, you're a reasonable man, Lu Ming-Shao. Why don't we talk this through? Why don't you sit with us and share a glass of S/ien?"
Whiskers Lu roared, then grabbedjyan's hair, pulling his head back viciously, his knife held threateningly across Jyan's throat.
"None of your games, Kao Jyan! I'm an impatient man just now. So tell me and have done with it. Do you have the money or not?"
Jyan's eyes bulged. Lu's reaction had startled him. His hand went to his pocket and scrabbled there, then threw three thick chips out onto the table. Each was for five hundred yuan.
Chen forced himself to relax, loosening his tight grip on the knife's handle. But he had seen how closely Lu's henchmen had been watching him and knew that they'd had orders to deal with him if it came to trouble. He smiled reassuringly at them, then watched as Whiskers Lu let go his grip on Jyan. The big man sheathed his knife, then leaned forward, scooping up the three ivorycolored chips.
"Fifteen hundred, eh?" He grunted and half turned, grinning at his men. "Well, that'll do, wouldn't you say, Kao Jyan?"
"Twelve hundred," Jyan said, rubbing at his neck. "You said twelve hundred."
"Did I, now?" Lu laughed, almost softly now, then nodded. "Maybe so, Kao Jyan. But you made me work for my money. So let's call it quits, eh, and I'll forget that you made me angry."
Chen narrowed his eyes, watching Jyan, willing him to let it drop. But Jyan was not through. He turned and looked up at Lu \ again, meeting his eyes.
"I'm disappointed in you, Lu Ming-Shao. I thought you were a man of your word. To ask for your money a week early, that I understand. A man must protect what is his. And the extra two hundred, that, too, I understand. Money is not a dead thing. It lives and grows and must be fed. But this extra . . ." He shook his head. "Word will go out that Lu Ming-Shao is greedy. That he gives his word, then takes what is not his."
Whiskers Lu glowered at Jyan, his hand resting on his knife. "You'd dare to say that, Kao Jyan?"
Jyan shook his head. "Not I. But there are others in this room whoVe seen what passed between us. You can't silence them all, Lu Ming-Shao. And you know how it is. Rumor flies like a bird. Soon the whole Net would know. And then what, eh? Who would come and borrow money from you then?"
Lu's chest rose and fell, his single eye boring angrily into Jyan's face. Then he turned sharply and barked at one of his henchmen. "Give him three hundred! Now!"
The man rummaged in the pouch at his belt then threw three slender chips down in front of Jyan.
Jyan smiled. "It was good to do business with you, Lu Ming-Shao. May you have many sons!"
But Whiskers Lu had turned away and was already halfway across the room, cursing beneath his breath.
When he was gone, Chen leaned forward angrily. "What the fuck are you playing at, Jyan? You almost had us killed!"
Jyan laughed. "He was angry, wasn't he?"
"Angry!" Chen shook his head, astonished. "And what's all this about you borrowing elsewhere? What have you been up to?"
Jyan didn't answer. He sat there, silent, watching Chen closely, a faint smile on his lips.
"What is it?"
Jyan's smile broadened. "IVe been thinking."
"Thinking, eh?" Chen lifted his tumbler and sipped. The calculating gleam in Jyan's eyes filled him with apprehension.
Jyan leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Yes, thinking. Making plans. Something that will make us both rich."
Chen drained his tumbler and set it down, then leaned back in his chair slowly, eyeing his partner. "IVe enough now, Jyan. Why should I want more? I can get out now if I want."
Jyan sat back, his eyes filled with scorn. "Is that all you want? To get out of here? Is that as high as your ambitions climb?" Again he leaned forward, but this time his voice hissed out at Chen. "Well, I want more than that! I want to be a king down here, in the Net. A big boss. Understand me, Chen? I don't want safety and order and all that shit, I want power. Here, where I can exercise it. And that takes money."
Heads turned at nearby tables, curious but lethargic. Chen looked back at one of them with a cold look of loathing, meeting the cold, dispassionate stare that was the tell-tale symptom of arfidis trance. Then he laughed softly and looked back at Jyan.
"You're mad, Jyan. It takes more than money. You can't buy yourself a gang down here, you have to make one, earn one, like Whiskers Lu. You're not in that league, Jyan. His kind would have you for breakfast. Besides, you're talking of the kind of sums you and I couldn't dream of getting hold of."
Jyan shook his head. "You're wrong."
Chen looked down, irritated by Jyan's persistence. "Forget it, eh? Best take what you've got and get out. That is, if you've still got enough after paying Whiskers Lu back."
Jyan laughed scornfully. "That was nothing. Small change. But listen to me, Chen. Do you really think you can get out?"
Chen said nothing, but Jyan was watching him closely again.
"What if all youVe saved isn't enough? What if the permits cost more than you can pay? What if you run into some greedy bastard official who wants a bit more squeeze than youVe got? What then? What would you do?"
Chen smiled tightly. "I'd kill him." But he was thinking of Pan Chao Street and the quarantine gates. Thinking of the huge, continent-spanning City of three hundred levels that was there above the Net. He had hoped to get a foothold on that great social ladder—a place on the very lowest rung. But he would have to go higher than he'd planned. Up to Twenty-one, at least. And that would cost more. Much, much more. Maybe Jyan was right.
"You'd kill him!" Jyan laughed again and sat back, clearly disgusted with his partner. "And be back here again! A kwai. Just a kwai again! A hireling, not the man in charge. Is that really what you want?"