"I disagree. Some projects, undertaken in our name, may well have been illegal, as you say. They may—though it remains to be proved conclusively—be linked to Li Han Ch'in's most unfortunate death. But just because something is done under our corporate name, it does not mean to say that we knew about it, or that we sanctioned it. As you know, General, as soon as I found out what was happening I ordered full cooperation with the Security forces and even ordered my own security squads to assist you."
Tolonen was silent a moment, his face coldly furious. "You want me to believe that you didn't know what was going on?"
"To be frank with you, General, I don't really care what you believe. I care only for the truth of the matter." He pointed past Tolonen at a huge chart on the right-hand wall. "See that there, General? That is a chart of my organization. Its structure, if you like. You'll see how it divides and then subdivides. How certain parts of the organization have a degree of autonomy. How others are buried deep in a long chain of substructures. A company like SimFic is a complex creation. A living, functional entity, changing and evolving all the time."
"So?"
Berdichev folded his arms and sat back again. "How many men do you command, General? Half a million? A million?"
Tolonen stood straighter. "I command four Banners. Two million men in all."
"I see." He turned to his Senior Executive. "Paul . . . how many men do we employ in our African operation?"
"Four hundred and eighty thousand."
"And in North America?"
"Seven hundred and forty thousand."
"And in the Asian operation?"
"One million two hundred thousand."
Berdichev looked back at the General. "Those three comprise a third of our total operations, the major part of which is based here, in City Europe. So you see, General, my own 'command' is three times the size of your own. Now, let me ask you a question. Do you know what all of your men are doing all of the time?"
Tolonen huffed. "Why, that's absurd! Of course I don't!"
Berdichev smiled coldly. "And yet you expect me to know what all of my managers are up to all of the time! You expect me to be responsible for their actions! Aren't you, by the same argument, responsible for DeVore's actions? For his betrayal?"
Tblonen did not answer, merely stared back at Berdichev, an undisguised hatred in his eyes.
"Well?" Berdichev asked after a moment. "Are you finished here?"
Tblonen shook his head; his whole manner had changed with the mention of DeVore. He was colder now, more distant. "I have only one more thing to say to you, Shih Berdichev. You claim you are not responsible. So you say. Nonetheless, you will find out who was responsible for this. And you will deliver their heads or your own, understand? I give you three days."
"Three days!" Berdichev sat forward. "By what authority—"
Tblonen went to the door, then turned and looked back at Berdichev. "Three days. And if you don't I shall come for you myself."
When he was gone, Berdichev leaned forward and placed his hand on the intercom. "Did you get all of that?"
A voice answered at once. "Everything. We're checking now, but it looks like all six angles were fine. We'll have the edited tape to you in an hour."
"Good!" He closed contact and looked up at Moore. "Well, Paul?"
Moore was still staring at the door. "You push him too far, Soren. He's a dangerous man. You should be cautious of him."
Berdichev laughed. "Tolonen? Why, he's an impotent old fool! He can't even wipe his own ass without his T'ang's permission, and Li Shai Tung won't give him authority to act against us in a thousand years—not unless he has proof positive. No, weVe done enough, Paul. That just now was all bullshit and bluster.
Don't fear. Tolonen will do nothing unless it's sanctioned by his T'ang!"
tolonen's audience with the T'ang was three hours later. Shepherd, the Tang's advisor, had got there some time before and had updated Li Shai Tung on all relevant matters. As soon as Tolonen arrived, therefore, they got down to more important business.
The T'ang sat there, in a seat placed at the foot of the dais, dressed in the rough, unhemmed hempcloth of mourning, subdued and solemn, a thousand cares on his shoulders. He had not left the Imperial Palace since the murder of his son, nor had he eaten. At his neck was stitched a broad square of white cloth and in his left hand he held a bamboo staff. Both symbolized his grief.
There were only the three of them in the vast, high-ceilinged Throne Room, and the T'ang's voice, when he spoke, echoed back to them.
"Well, Knut? What do you suggest?"
The General bowed, then outlined his plan, arguing in favor of a preemptive strike. War, but of a contained nature, attacking specific targets. A swift retribution, then peace with all other factions.
Li Shai Tung listened, then seemed to look deep inside himself. "I have lost the most precious thing a man has," he said at last, looking at each of them in turn. "I have lost my eldest son. To this I cannot be reconciled. Nor can I love my enemies. Indeed, when I look into my heart I find only hatred there for them. A bitter hatred." He let out a long breath, then stared fixedly at Tolonen. "I would kill them like animals if it would end there, Knut. But it would not. There would be war, as you say, but not of the kind you have envisaged. It would be a dirty, secretive, incestuous war, and we would come out poorly from it."
He smiled bleakly at his General, then looked away, the misery in his dark eyes so eloquent that Tolonen found his own eyes misting in response.
"For once, my good General, I think you are wrong. I do not believe we can fight a contained war. Indeed, the Seven have known that for a long time now. Such a contest would spread. Spread until the Families faced the full might of the Above, for they would see it as a challenge; an attack upon their rights— upon their very existence as a class."
Tolonen looked down, recalling the look in Lehmann's eyes, the foul effrontery of Berdichev, and shuddered. "What then, Ctneh Hsia?" he said bluntly, almost belligerently. "Shall we do nothing? Surely that's just as bad?"
Li Shai Tung lifted his hand abruptly, silencing him. It was the first time he had done so in the forty-odd years he had known the General and Tolonen looked back at him wide eyed a moment before he bowed his head.
The T'ang looked at the staff he held. It was the very symbol of dependency; of how grief was supposed to weaken man. Yet the truth was otherwise. Man was strengthened through suffering; hardened by it. He looked back at his General, understanding his anger; his desire to strike back at those who had wounded him. "Yes, Knut, to do nothing is bad. But not as bad as acting rashly. We must seem weak. We must bend with the wind; sway in the storm's mouth and bide our time. Wuwei must be our chosen course for now."
Wuwei. Nonaction. It was an old Taoist concept. Wuwei meant keeping harmony with the flow of things—doing nothing to break that flow.
There was a moment's tense silence, then Tolonen shook his head almost angrily. "Might I say what I feel, Chieh Hsia?" The formality of the General's tone spoke volumes. This was the closest the two men had ever come to arguing.
The T'ang stared at his General a moment, then looked away. "Say what you must."
Tblonen bowed deeply, then drew himself erect. "Just this. You are wrong, Li Shai Tung. Execute me for saying so, but hear me out. You are wrong. I know it. I feel it in my bones. This is no time for wuwei. No time to be coolheaded and dispassionate. We must be like the tiger now. We must bare our claws and teeth and strike. This or be eaten alive."
The T'ang considered for a moment, then leaned farther forward on his throne. "You sound like Han Ch'in," he said,
amusement and bitterness in even measure in his voice. "He, too, would have counseled war. They have killed me, Father, he would have said, so now you must kill them back." He shivered and looked away, his expression suddenly distraught. "Gods, Knut, I have considered this matter long and hard. But Han's advice was always brash, always hasty. He thought with his heart. But I must consider my other son now. I must give him life, stability, continuity. If we fight a war he will die. Of that I am absolutely certain. They will find a way—just as they found a way to get to Han Ch'in. And in the end they will destroy the Families."