"Stealing. . . ." Auden made to shake his head, then turned away. "Cover it up," he said to his sergeant, meeting his eyes a moment, a look of disgust passing between them.
"You made a deal," said Chen, glaring at Auden. "Was this a part of it?"
Auden glanced at him, then turned away, moving back toward Peskova.
"I made a deal."
Chen followed him across, something still and cold and hard growing in the depths of him.
Auden stopped, three, four paces from Peskova, looking about the room. Then he turned and looked directly at the man. There was something like a smile on his lips. "Is that how you deal with thieves out here?"
Peskova's face had hardened. He had been worried momentarily. Now, seeing that hint of a smile, he relaxed again, misinterpreting it. His own smile widened. "Not always."
"So it was special?"
Peskova looked down. "You could say that. Mind you, I'm only sorry it wasn't his friend, Teng. I would have liked to have seen that bastard beg for mercy." He looked up again, laughing, as if it were a joke only he and Auden could share. "These Han . . ."
Chen stared at him coldly. "And Pavel? What about him? He wasn't Han."
Peskova turned and smiled at him contemptuously. An awful, smirking smile. "Why split hairs? Anyway, that little shit deserved what he got."
Chen shuddered violently. Then, without thinking, he lunged forward and grabbed Peskova, forcing the man's jaws open, thrusting the handgun into his open mouth. He sensed, rather than saw, Auden move forward to stop him, but it was too late—he had already pulled the trigger.
The explosion seemed to go off in his own head. Peskova jerked back away from him, his skull shattered, his brains spattered across the wall behind like rotten fruit.
Chen stepped back, looking down at the fallen man. Then Auden had hold of him and had yanked him around roughly. "You stupid bastard!" he shouted into his face. "Didn't you understand? We needed him alive!"
Chen stared back at him blankly, shivering, his jaw set. "He killed my friend."
Auden hesitated, his face changing, then he let him go. "Yes," he said quietly. "Yes." Then, angrily, "But we're even now, Kao Chen. Understand me? You saved my life downstairs. But this . . . well, we're even now. A life for a life."
Chen stared at him, then looked away, disgusted. "Even," he said, and laughed sourly. "Sure. It's all even now."
EBERT WAS waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp.
"Well?" he demanded. "Where is he? I'd like to see him once more, before we send him on. He was a good officer, whatever else he's done."
Chen looked down, astonished. A good officer!
Beside him Auden hesitated, then met his captains eyes. "I'm afraid there's no sign of him, sir. We're taking the place apart now, but I don't think he's hiding in there. One of the guards says he flew off earlier this evening? but if so it wasn't in his own craft. That's still here, as Kao Chen said."
Ebert turned on Chen, furious. "Where the fuck is he, Chen? You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!"
It was unfair. It also wasn't true, but Chen bowed his head anyway. "I'm sorry—" he began, but was interrupted.
"Captain Ebert! Captain Ebert!"
It was the communications officer from Ebert's transporter.
"What is it, Hoenig?"
The young man bowed deeply, then handed him the report.
Ebert turned and looked back toward the west. There, in the distance, the sky was glowing faintly. "Gods," he said softly. "Then it's true."
"What is it, sir?" Auden asked, knowing at once that something was badly wrong.
Ebert laughed strangely, then shook his head. "It's the Lodz garrison. It's on fire. What's more, Administrator Duchek's dead. Assassinated thirty minutes back." Then he laughed again; a laugh of grudging admiration. "It seems DeVore's outwitted us again."
FEI YEN stood there in her rooms, naked behind the screen, her maids surrounding her. Her father, Yin Tsu, stood on the other side of the heavy silk screen, his high-pitched voice filled with an unusual animation. As he talked, one of Fei Yen's maids rubbed scented oils into her skin, while another dried and combed her long, dark hair. A third and fourth brought clothes for her to decide upon, hurrying backward and forward to try to please her whim.
He had called upon her unexpectedly, while she was in her bath, excited by his news, and had had to be physically dissuaded from going straight in to her.
"But she is my daughter!" he had complained when the maids had barred his way.
"Yes, but I am a woman now, Father, not a girl!" Fei Yen had called out sweetly from within. "Please wait. I'll not be long."
He had begged her forgiveness, then, impatient to impart his news, had launched into his story anyhow. Li Shai Tung, it seemed, had been in contact with him.
"I'm almost certain it's to tell me there's an appointment at court for your eldest brother, Sung. I petitioned the T'ang more than a year ago now. But what post, I wonder? Something in the T'ang's household, do you think? Or perhaps a position in the secretariat?" He laughed nervously, then continued hurriedly.
"No. Not that. The Tang would not bother with such trivial news. It must be a post in the ministry. Something important. A junior minister's post, at the very least. Yes. I'm almost certain of it. But tell me, Fei Yen, what do you think?"
It was strange how he always came to her when he had news. Never to Sung or Chan or her younger brother Wei. Perhaps it was because she reminded him so closely of her dead mother, to whom Yin Tsu had always confided when she was alive.
"What if it has nothing to do with Sung, Father? What if it's something else?"
"Ah, no, foolish girl. Of course it will be Sung. I feel it in my bones!" He laughed. "And then, perhaps, I can see to the question of your marriage at long last. Tuan Wu has been asking after you. He would make a good husband, Fei Yen. He comes from a good line. His uncle is the third son of the late Tuan Chung-Ho and the Tuans are a rich family."
Fei Yen looked down, smiling to herself. Tuan Wu was a fool, a gambler, and a womanizer, in no particular order. But she had no worries about Tuan Wu. Let her father ramble on—she knew why Li Shai Tung was coming to see them. Li Yuan had spoken to his father. Had done what she had thought impossible.
"I know what you're thinking, Fei Yen, but a woman should have a proper husband. Your youth is spilling from you, like sand from a glass. Soon there will be no more sand. And then?"
She laughed. "Dearest Father, what a ridiculous image! No more sand!" Again she laughed, and after a moment his laughter joined with hers.
"Whatever . . ." he began again, "my mind is made up. We must talk seriously about this."
"Of course." Her agreement surprised him into momentary silence.
"Good. Then I shall see you in my rooms in three hours. The T'ang has asked to see us all. It might be an opportune time to discuss your remarriage."
When he had gone she pushed aside her maids, then hurried across the room and stood there, studying herself in the full-length dragon mirror. Yes, she thought; you are a T'ang's wife, Fei Yen. You always were a T'ang's wife, from the day you were born. She laughed and threw her head back, admiring her taut,
full breasts, the sleekness of her thighs and stomach, the dark beauty of her eyes. Yes, and you shaft have a proper husband. But not just any fool or Minor Family reprobate. My man shall be a T'ang. My son a T'ang.
She shivered, then turned from the mirror, letting her maids lead her back to her place behind the screens.
But make it soon, she thought. Very soon.
KARR DRIFTED in from the darkside, the solar sail fully extended, slowing his speed as he approached. His craft was undetectable—just another piece of space junk.
They would have no warning.
Twenty ti out he detached himself and floated in, a dark hunched shape, lost against the backdrop of space. As planned he landed on the blind spot of the huge ship, the curved layers of transparent ice beneath his boots.