"Give it here!" Yang Lai said irritably.
Pi Ch'ien edged forward and handed the card across. Yang Lai stared at it a moment, then turned away. With upturned eyes Pi Ch'ien watched him tap his personal code into the instruct box and place his thumb against the release.
There was a moment's silence from Yang Lai, then he gasped. When he turned to face Pi Ch'ien again, his face was ashen. For a moment his mouth worked silently; then, without another word, he turned and left the room, his silk cloak flapping as he ran.
Pi Ch'ien lifted his head, astonished. For a moment he stood there, rooted to the spot. Then he rushed across the room and poked his head out into the corridor.
The corridor was empty. There was no sign of Yang Lai.
He looked back into the room. There, on the floor, was the message card. He went across and picked it up, then turned it in his hand, studying it. Without Yang Lai's thumb on the release pad the surface of the card was blank; even so, it might prove interesting to keep.
Pi Ch'ien hesitated, not certain what to do. Yang Lai had not formally dismissed him; but thert, he had fulfilled his duty—had delivered the message. Surely, then, it was all right for him to go. He went to the door and looked out again. The corridor was still empty. Careful now, consciousjsf the watching cameras, he stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind him. Then, composing himself, trying to ignore the strong feeling of wrong-ness that was growing in him by the moment, he began to walk toward the entrance hall.
THERE WAS movement up ahead. Chen crouched in the narrow circle of the horizontal shaft, perfectly still, listening. Beside him, tensed, his breathing like the soft hiss of a machine, Jyan waited.
Chen turned, smiling reassuringly. In the dim overhead light Jyan's face seemed more gaunt than normal, his cheekbones more hollow. The roseate light made him seem almost demonic, his cold black eyes reflecting back two tiny points of redness. Chen wanted to laugh, looking at him. Such delicate features he had; such neat, small ears. He could imagine how Jyan's mother would have loved those ears—back when Jyan had yet had a mother.
He looked away, sobered by the thought. It's why we're here, he realized, waiting, knowing the noise, the movement, would go away. If we had loved ones we would never have got involved in this. We're here because we have no one. Nothing to connect us to the world.
Chen kept his thoughts to himself; like a good kwai he cultivated the appearance of stupidity. Like all else it was a weapon. He had been taught to let his enemies underestimate him; always to keep something back—something in reserve. And lastly, to take no friends.
Ahead it went silent again. He waited, making sure, then began to move up the access tunnel once more, his right hand feeling the way along the tunnel wall. And as he moved he could sense Jyan immediately behind him; silent, trusting.
MINISTER LWO pulled himself up out of his chair and stretched his legs. It was almost time to call it an evening, but first he'd dip his body in the pool and cool off. His junior ministers had risen to their feet when he had stood. Now he signaled them to be seated again. "Please, gentlemen, don't break your talk for me."
He moved between them, acknowledging their bows, then down three steps and past a lacquered screen, into the other half of the dome. Here was a miniature pool, its chest-deep waters cool and refreshing after the heat of the solarium. Small shrubs and potted trees surrounded it on three sides, while from the ceiling above hung a long, elegant cage, housing a dozen songbirds.
As he paused at the pool's edge two attendants hurried across to help him undress, then stood there, heads bowed respectfully, holding his clothes, as he eased himself into the water.
He had been there only moments when he heard the pad of feet behind him. It was Lao Jen.
"May I join you, Excellency?"
Lwo Kang smiled. "Of course. Come in, Jen."
Lao Jen had been with him longest and was his most trusted advisor. He was also a man with connections, hearing much that would otherwise have passed the Minister by. His sister had married into one of the more important of the Minor Families and fed him juicy tidbits of Above gossip. These he passed on to Lwo Kang privately.
Lao Jen threw off his pou and came down the steps into the water. For a moment the two of them floated there, facing each other. Then Lwo Kang smiled.
"What news, Jen? You surely have some."
"Well," he began, speaking softly so that only the Minister could hear. "It seems that today's business with Lehmann is only a small part of things. Our friends the Dispersionists are hatching bigger, broader schemes. It seems they have formed a faction—a pressure group—in the House. It's said they have more than two hundred representatives in their pocket."
Lwo Kang nodded. He had heard something similar. "Go on."
"More than that, Excellency. It seems they're going to push to reopen the starflight program."
Lwo Kang laughed. Then he lowered his voice. "You're serious? The starflight program?" He shook his head, surprised. "Why, that's been dead a century and more! What's the thinking behind that?"
Lao Jen ducked his head, theri*s"urfaced again, drawing his hand back through his hair. "It's the logical outcome of their policies. They are, after all, Dispersionists. They want breathing space. Want to be free of the City and its controls. Their policies make no sense unless there is somewhere to disperse to."
"I've always seen them otherwise, Jen. I've always thought their talk of breathing space was a political mask. A bargaining counter. And all this nonsense about opening up the colony planets too. No one in their right mind would want to live out there. Why, it would take ten thousand years to colonize the stars!" He grunted, then shook his head. "No, Jen, it's all a blind. Something to distract us from the real purpose of their movement."
"Which is what, Excellency?"
Lwo Kang smiled faintly, knowing Lao Jen was sounding him. "They are Hung Mao and they want to rule. They feel we Han have usurped their natural right to control the destiny of Chung Kuo, and they want to see us under. That's all there is to it. All this business of stars and planetary conquest is pure nonsense—the sort of puerile idiocy their minds ran to before we purged them of it."
Lao Jen laughed. "Your Excellency sees it clearly. Nevertheless, I—"
He stopped. Both men turned, standing up in the water. It came again. A loud hammering at the inner door of the solarium. Then there were raised voices.
Lwo Kang climbed up out of the water and without stopping to dry himself, took his pau from the attendant and pulled it on, tying the sash at the waist. He had taken only two steps forward when a security guard came down the steps toward him.
"Minister!" he said breathlessly, bowing low. "The alarm has been sounded. We must evacuate the dome!"
two Kang turned, dumbstruck, and looked back at Lao Jen.
Lao Jen was standing on the second step, the water up to his shins. He was looking up. Above him the songbirds were screeching madly and fluttering about their cage.
Lwo Kang took a step back toward Lao Jen, then stopped. There was a small plop and a fizzing sound. Then another. He frowned, then looked up past the cageat the ceiling of the dome. There, directly above the pool, the smooth white skin of the dome was impossibly charred. There, only an arm's length from where the wire that held the cage was attached, was a small, expanding halo of darkness. Even as he watched, small gobbets of melted ice dropped from that dark circle and fell hissing into the water.
"Gods!" he said softly, astonished. "What in heaven's name...?"
Then he understood. Understood, at the same moment, that it was already too late. "Yang Lai," he said almost inaudibly, straightening up, seeing in his mind the back of his junior minister as he hurried from the dome. "Yes. It must have been Yang Lai!..."