Once, in ancient times, there had been three great ceremonies of presentation, separated by long weeks of preparation. Now there was only this single, simple ritual. Even so, the servants standing three deep at the windows surrounding the gardens watched wide eyed, conscious of the great chain that linked them to the ancient past of their kind.
At the same moment, in a private ceremony in the T'ai Miao, the Supreme Hall of Ancestors, Tsu Ma was solemnly reporting the news of his betrothal to the august spirits of his ancestors, their holograms burning brightly as he knelt before them, his forehead pressed to the cold stone flags.
Twelve hours later Liang K'o Ting, dressed in his new uniform as officer of the imperial bodyguard, stepped from the gate of the South-
em Palace, heading north across the gardens. Behind him was a procession no less great than that which had set out earlier. This time, however, the feng yu was occupied, Tsu Ma's bride, Liang Shu-sun, hidden within, twenty-two bearers moving slowly, solemnly, as the drums sounded the "Central Harmony." Fifty servants carried gifts on litters, while a further hundred bore large lanterns and "dragon-phoenix" flags. In the midst of all a dozen men carried two yellow pavilions, holding the Golden Seal and the Golden Scroll, symbols of Shu-sun's authority as Empress, while directly behind the great Phoenix Chair walked the servants and ministers of her household.
At the gate to the Northern Palace, Tsu Kung-chih stood motionless, the chieh held out before him, waiting to receive his father's bride. Behind him, in the Great Hall at the center of the palace, Tsu Ma sat on the dragon throne in the full glory of his imperial yellow silks, the nine dragons—eight shown and one hidden—decorating the gown.
As he reached the gate, Liang K'o Ting stood to one side, his head bowed, letting the imperial commissioner, Prince Kung-chih, lead the procession into the Northern Palace, relinquishing his daughter into his care. Inside, surrounding the dragon throne, stood the four hundred members of the Net T'ing, the Inner Court, as well as those invited guests, numbering some fifteen hundred in all. The procession moved between them, then stopped, the great Phoenix Chair being set down below the steps of the dragon throne.
Two bells sounded, one high, one low. The final ceremony began. Tsu Ma stood, then came down the steps, halting before the feng yu as eight shaven-headed New Confucian officials, dressed in crimson robes, lifted the red silk curtain that covered the litter, drawing it back over the top.
Within, Shu-sun sat in the Chair, dressed from head to toe in red, the traditional kai t'ou covering her face. At a signal from the chief official, Tsu Ma stepped forward and delicately lifted the veil over her head.
Shu-sun's smile was radiant. Taking her hands, Tsu Ma helped her step down, her smile disarming him, making him feel at that moment like the most gauche of schoolboys. As the chants began he stood there, facing her, disturbed by the fact that at this, one of the most public moments of his life, he was sporting the most enormous erection. As if she knew, Shu-sun's smile broadened, her eyes widening in invitation.
Tonight, he thought, surprised by the strength of his feelings. After all, he scarcely knew her. He had thought himself jaded, emotionally spent, but the simple sight of her inflamed him. Why, the last time he had felt this way had been for Fei Yen.
His sad smile was noted by her and she raised an eyebrow querying it. So strange it was, for it suggested an intimacy that did not yet exist between them, and yet ... well, it was as if he knew her from way back—from another cycle of existence.
He watched, unconscious of the words of the ritual, aware only of her face, her eyes, the light dancing in the darkness of her pupils.
The ceremony was halfway through when sirens began to sound beyond the doors. Tsu Ma turned, looking to his Colonel of Internal Security, Yi Ching, and nodded. Yi bowed and turned, running off to discover what was happening.
Heads turned, eyes looked apprehensive, yet no one broke the silent solemnity of the moment. The chants went on, the ritual continued, while outside, echoing menacingly across the empty gardens of the palace, the sirens rose and fell.
YI CHINO rushed into the busy control room, taking control. Voices in his head apprised him of the situation, yet he spent a moment or two studying the screens, checking for himself before he acted.
The ship was fifty li out, over the Caspian, coming in fast from the east. Twice they had challenged it for a visual ID and twice it had ignored them. Now they had only two options—to shoot it down or let it land.
He turned to the Duty Captain. "Captain Munk . . . you're certain about the CGRP?"
"It's a Minor Family format, sir, but unspecific."
"Shit!"
No one would blame him for shooting it out of the air, but what if it was one of the Minor Family princes? After all, it wouldn't be the first time a cruiser's Computer-Generated Recognition Pattern had failed or been wrongly set. Yes, and things were very sensitive right now. To shoot a prince out of the air without warning would cause a terrible stink, no matter what justification there was for it.
Colonel Yi gave a groan of annoyance, then banged the console hard with both fists. Now was no time to prevaricate. It would be here in less than five minutes. He leaned forward, barking instructions into the speaker.
"I want two cruisers in the air—now! The incoming's communicator may have failed, so make visual contact and head it off. If it ignores you again, blast it out of the sky. No arguments, right? If it complies, take it south. Land it beyond the perimeter. I'll give further instructions then."
Yi Ching straightened up, voices sounding in the air, giving orders and confirming instructions, the mood of the room changed instantly, everyone happy now that something was happening.
He stared at the flickering point on the map screen and shook his head. Who would be so fucking stupid as to fly into their air space at such a critical moment?
He had a low opinion of the Minor Family princes—they were, after all, the most self-centered, arrogant, and stupid people on the planet— but this seemed out of character, even for one of them. At the same time, he simply couldn't believe this was a serious attack on the palace. There was no way a single cruiser could get through their defenses. It was in the air too long. It made such an easy and obvious target. Unless . . .
He pressed the stud on his right wrist, putting him in direct contact with his Lieutenant in the Great Hall.
"Karlgren. Get the T'ang out of there now! Get him into one of the secure rooms and clear the Hall. I think the incoming is a diversion. Oh, and make sure Li Yuan and Wei Tseng-li are safe."
Yi Ching looked about him, seeing the startled expressions on the faces of the nearby men, but there was no time to explain.
"Captain Munk. Take over here. Make sure my instructions are carried out to the letter."
"Sir!"
Yes, he thought, running from the room, heading back to the Northern Palace, and let's hope to the gods I'm wrong!