Karr looked up, his gray eyes calm, controlled. "Tsao Ch'un was Son of Heaven."
For once the old saying carried rather too much meaning. Tsao Ch'un was the tyrant who had united Chung Kuo and built the great City- He, in his time, had grabbed and killed to keep what he had taken. Until the Seven—his chief ministers—had deposed him.
"Kings do as they must," DeVore said, his eyes suddenly dangerous.
Karr straightened up to his full height, facing DeVore. "And kwai. As I said, Major, to be a kwai here is an honorable calling. Most are not as Chu Heng was. Nor should you confuse them with the punks and paper tigers that run with .the Triads. A kwai has inner strengths. He draws from deeper wells than greed."
DeVore laughed scornfully. He was about to answer Karr, but Tolonen stepped in between the two men. "Major DeVore, Fest, Ebert, Haavikko. Leave us a moment. I want a word with Karr."
DeVore bowed, then went outside, followed by the other three. When they were gone, the General turned to face the big man.
"You know the ways of this place, Karr. What do you think happened here?"
Karr looked about him. "It's messy. Hastily arranged and hurriedly carried out. Yet the killings . . . well, they're odd. If I didn't know better I'd say that Kao Jyan's death was a piece of Chu Heng's work. This slashing and gouging is his trademark. He was a sadist. He enjoyed inflicting pain."
"And the others?"
Karr put his head to one side. "IVe not looked at Chen yet. But whoever killed Chu Heng was good at it. Trained to kill quickly and efficiently."
"A soldier, maybe?"
Karr laughed. "I hadn't thought of that, but yes."
Tolonen smiled, pleased.
"You're a useful man, Karr, and my ensign, Haavikko, tells me you're a magnificent fighter. Intelligent too. I could use a man like you."
Karr set Kao Jyan's head down gently and looked up at the General. "I'm under contract, General. Ten fights, if I live that long."
Tolonen nodded. "I'll buy your contract out."
Karr smiled. "Maybe. But why? I don't understand, General. What use could I be to you?"
At that the General laughed. "You have a talent. An eye for things. I could see it at a glance. And you know this place. Know how its people think and act. At present we have to rely on our contacts down here. On Triad bosses. And that's not merely costly but unreliable. They'd as soon be in another man's pay as ours."
"And I'm different?"
"I'd judge so."
Karr stood and looked about him. "What happened here, General? What really happened?"
Tolonen moved across the room. He stood at the games machine, toying with its touch pad. "What do you mean?"
"You, the Major, those three junior officers outside. That's some team to investigate a small-time killing like this. So why are you all here? What's important about these men? What did they do? Or should I ask, what did they know?"
Tolonen laughed. "What they did is kill a minister. What they knew, however, remains a mystery. But someone knows. The someone who killed them."
Karr came and stood at his shoulder, looking at the game that had come up on the screen. "What's this?"
"It looks like the last stored memory. Kao Jyan was a good player, it seems."
Karr shook his head. "That's not Kao Jyan. I'd swear it. In fact, I'd say that wasn't anyone from around here. Look at those patterns. And this is an eighth-level game. Whoever was playing this was a master of wei chi."
Tolonen laughed strangely. "Our killer?"
Karr turned his head, meeting his eyes. "Well, it would be one way of filling two hours."
IT WAS A BIG five-pole sedan, its mauve er-silk banners emblazoned with black stylized dogs, symbol of the Kuei Chuan Triad. The ten shaven-headed polemen sat against the wall opposite, tucking into bowls of duck-soy soup and noodles, while in a conspicuously separate group, standing beside the sedan, in mauve and black fake-satin uniforms, were the pen p'ei—rushing daggers—numbered patches on their chests indicating their standing in the Triad hierarchy.
Ignoring the lowly polemen, Ebert strode up to the lowest-numbered of the p'ei, who immediately bowed low and touched his forehead to the littered floor of the corridor.
"Let's get going," Ebert said brusquely. He dropped a fifty-yuan coin beside the man's head. "There'll be another if you get us there in twenty minutes."
The p'ei's eyes went to the coin, then, widening, looked up at Ebert. He nodded his head exaggeratedly. "As you wish, Excellency!" He stood and turned to the polemen, barking orders in a pidgin Mandarin that none of the three young soldiers could follow. Soup bowls were dropped at once as the polemen hurried to get into position. Six of the p'ei formed up at the front. Daggers drawn, they would clear the way ahead of the sedan. Behind ran the last four of the p'ei, guarding against ambush.
Axel watched Ebert and Fest climb inside, then followed, stopping in the curtained doorway to look back at the bowed, shaven-headed polemen.
"Come on, Haavikko!" said Fest impatiently. "You don't want the man to lose his fee, do you?"
Axel ducked inside, taking the seat across from Fest and Ebert. "Why did you do that, Hans? There's no hurry to get back."
Ebert smiled. "You have to keep these types on their toes, Haavikko. It'll do them good to have a nice long run." He looked at Fest and laughed. "You should see the buggers' faces! It's worth a hundred yuan just for that!"
Axel looked at him a moment, then shrugged. He didn't like it, but they were probably used to it down here. This was how they expected the Above to behave.
The sedan lifted at once and they were away, the carriage swaying rhythmically about them, the shouts of the senior p'ei encouraging the men to run.
"What do you think of that, Hans?" Fest asked, leaning forward to draw the curtain back and look out at the runners. "It seems the General has bought the fighter's contract."
Ebert laughed dismissively. "The man's a brute! A primitive! I tell you, he'll prove nothing but trouble!"
Axel looked down. He had said nothing earlier, when Ebert had insulted Karr, but now he had had a bellyful of Ebert's arrogance. "You only say that because he stood up to you."
Ebert glowered. "I'll break him! See if I don't!"
Axel laughed and looked up, meeting Ebert's eyes. "And how will you do that, Hans? Is the General yours to command, then?"
"No!" He bit back the reply, then looked away, a dangerous expression in his eyes. "But there are others who feel as I do."
It was clear he meant DeVore. Surprisingly, the Major seemed to have been as much put out by the big man as Ebert. In the corridor outside the murdered Han's apartment he had muttered angrily about upstarts and big sacks of wind. It was clear he had not appreciated the big man correcting him about the kwcd.
"Karr will be the General's man," Axel insisted. "Answerable only to him." He paused, then, rubbing it in, added. "It seems he has need of such men."
Ebert laughed mockingly, but Haavikko's words had offended him. He turned aside angrily and beneath his breath muttered, "Gods, but what fools they give us in command!"
Fest leaned forward. "Hush up, Hans! Have a care what you say!"
But Axel had heard and was furious. This was too much. "I take it you refer to General Tolonen?"
Ebert turned on him squarely, his right fist bunched, his face dark with anger. "And what if I do, puppy? What's it to you what I say?"
Axel drew himself up in his seat. "It is discourteous, to say the least. You forget where your duty lies, and to whom. Retract your words, Hans Ebert, or I'll be forced to make you retract them!"
For a while neither spoke, but faced each other out, the sedan swaying about them. Slowly Ebert calmed, his breathing normalizing. Then, turning his face away, he laughed. "Go fuck yourself, Haavikko," he said softly.