No. DeVore had been the perfect officer. The perfect copy.
Tolonen tapped at the control blisters inset into his wrist and made connection with Major Nocenzi, half the globe away.
"General?" Nocenzi's voice came through clear in his head. His image appeared ghostly on the General's palm.
"Vittorio. I want you to do something for me."
He spoke quickly but clearly, itemizing the things he wanted done. Then, finished, he cut connection, knowing time was against him.
So it was here at last, the war Li Shai Tung had long ago said would come. A secretive, dirty war, fought in the darkness between levels. A guerrilla war, where friend and enemy had the same face. A war of money and technology and, at the last, sheer cunning. And who would win?
Tolonen smiled.
Karr, he thought. I'll use Karr. He found Chen. Maybe he can find DeVore.
WANG TI opened the door slowly, surprised to see the big man standing there, but even more surprised when her husband called out from behind her, telling her to let him in.
Karr bowed his head respectfully and drew off his boots. Barefooted, he followed Wang Ti through into the back of the apartment, ducking under partitioning curtains.
Chen was sitting on the floor by the back wall, his legs folded under him, the baby asleep in his lap. There was little furniture in the cramped room. A double bedroll was folded neatly against the wall to Chen's right and a low table had been set up next to the fcang. Wang Ti had been cooking, and the smell of it still hung in the room. From the far side of the long dividing curtain on Chen's left came the sound of their neighbors' two young sons playing boisterously.
Karr smiled and bowed again, then squatted across from Chen.
"How's the child?"
Chen looked down at his infant son and gently stroked his brow.
"He's well."
"Good."
Wang Ti stood at his side dutifully, head bowed, eyes averted.
"You'll share ch'a with us, Shih . . . ?"
"Karr." The big man turned slightly and bowed his head, acknowledging her, "I thank you for your kind offer, Wang Ti, but no. I have business to discuss with your husband."
She nodded, then took the baby from Chen's lap and backed away. Karr waited until she had ducked out under the curtaining before speaking again. She would hear all he said, but the illusion of privacy was necessary. It was all the face a man had at these levels.
"You were right, Chen. It was DeVore."
Chen grunted, his blunt peasant face inexpressive. "So what now?"
Kan: reached into the inner pocket of his overshirt and pulled out a thin tab of ice. "Here," he said, offering it.
Chen hesitated, remembering Jyan. He too had made deals with the Above. And where was he now? With his ancestors. Dead, his spirit untended, no sons to burn offerings for his soul.
"What is it?"
Karr laughed. "Still suspicious, eh? You've no need to be, Chen. You gave us more than we could have asked for. This"— he placed the tab between them on the floor—"this is in settlement. A blanket amnesty. Your citizenship papers. A ten deck security pass. And a bonus. A thousand yuan."
Chen started. Then he was not to follow Wyatt to the block? He stared at the big man openmouthed.
"You are kwai, Chen. A tool. And a good tool. The General was surprised how good." He laughed. "We Net types, we can teach them a thing or two, eh?"
Still Chen hesitated. Was this all some kind of elaborate ruse? Some awful taunting of him? But then why? Why should they bother?
"Then I'm free?"
Karr looked away, conscious of the woman listening beyond one curtain, the neighbors beyond another. "Not exactly. You'll have to leave this place. After what happened . . ."
"Isee."
Karr met his eyes. "We'll resettle you. Retrain you."
"Retrain me?"
"Yes. You've a new job, Chen. You've joined Security. As my adjutant."
Chen stared, then looked down. "And if I say no?"
Karr shrugged, watching the Han closely. "You are kwai, Chen, not a warehouseman. Leave such jobs to good men like LoYing."
Chen looked up, suddenly angry. "And how is Lo Ying?"
Karr laughed, remembering how Lo Ying had jumped him. "A brave man, but no fighter. Oh, he's happy now, Chen. He, too, has his bonus."
Chen looked down at the tab. "You plan to buy me, then?"
Karr hesitated, then shook his head. "I would not insult you so, Kao Chen. We both know that you cannot buy a man's loyalty. However, you can try to earn it." He sat back, then shrugged his great shoulders. "All right. I ask you openly, Kao Chen. Will you become the Tang's man? Or will you rot here at this level?"
Chen looked down. He had a life here. A good life. There was his wife, his son now to consider. But to be kwai again ... He felt himself torn in two by the offer.
There was a whisper of cloth. Chen looked up past Karr. Wang Ti had come out from behind the curtains and was standing there, staring imploringly at him. Then, abruptly, she came around and threw herself down in front of Karr in a full k'o t'ou.
"Wang Ti! What are you doing?"
She lifted her head and glanced at Chen anxiously, then returned her forehead to the floor before the big man.
"My husband accepts your kind offer, Shih Karr. He will be honored to work with you."
HAN C H ' IN stood there silently in the darkened room, his back to the doorway. Outside the two assassins waited. He breathed deeply, calming himself, remembering what he'd been taught. The still man has advantages. He hears better. He has choice of action. The moving man is committed. His strength, his very movement can be used against him.
Let them come to you, then. Feign unawareness. But let your body be as the dragon's, alive, alert to every movement of the air behind your back.
Outside they hesitated. Then the first of them came through.
Han turned when the man was only an arm's length away, ducking low, sweeping his leg out, his left arm straight-punching upward. As the man went down Han rolled backward and flipped up onto his feet, facing the second assassin.
The dark, masked figure feinted,-kicking to Han's left, making shapes with his hands in the air, each movement accompanied by a sharp hiss of expelled breath.
Han shadowed the assassin's movements, knowing he could not afford to do otherwise. He was alone now. Death awaited him if he made the smallest mistake. He had only winded the man on the floor, so time now was precious. He would have to dispense with the man before him, then deal finally with the other.
He saw his chance. The assassin had put his full weight on his right foot. It anchored him. Han feinted farther to the right, then leapt, turning in the air and kicking high, aiming for the man's chin.
His foot brushed air. Then he was falling.
The assassin was on him in an instant, his forearm locked about Han's neck.
Han cried out.
The lights flicked on at once. The two assassins backed away, bowing deeply, respectfully. Han turned over and sat up, gasping for breath. Shiao Shi-we was standing in the doorway, looking in at him, his expression hard to read.
"Again!" he barked finally. "How many times, Han? Have you learned nothing from me?"
Han knelt and bowed to his instructor. Shi-we was right. He had been impatient.
"I am sorry, Master Shiao. I was worried about the second man."
Shiao Shi-we made a small sound in his throat, then lifted his chin. Han Ch'in got to his feet at once.
"You are a good fighter, Han Ch'in. Your reflexes are as good as any man's. Your body knows how to move. How to kick and punch. How to block and fall and roll. You have real courage. A rare thing. Yet for all these qualities you lack one vital thing. You have not learned to think as your opponent thinks."
Han bowed again, chastened.
"What then should I have done, Master Shiao? Should I have waited for him to attack?"