Ice and Fire: Chung Kuo Series (6 page)

‘You want him back?’

Li Shai Tung laughed bitterly. As if I could. No, Hal, but I want to see him. I need
to speak to him.’

Shepherd was silent for a time, considering, then he leaned forward and set his glass
down on the table at his side. ‘You should call him back, Shai Tung. For once damn
the House and its
demands. Defy them. You are T’ang, and thus above their laws.’

Li Shai Tung looked up and met Shepherd’s eyes. ‘I am T’ang, yes, but I am also Seven.
I could not act so selfishly.’

‘Why not?’

The T’ang laughed, surprised. ‘This is unlike you, Hal. For more than twenty years
you have advised me to be cautious, to consider the full implications of my actions,
but now,
suddenly, you counsel me to rashness.’

Shepherd smiled. ‘Not rashness, Shai Tung. Far from it. In fact, I’ve thought of little
else this past year.’ He got up and went across to a bureau in the corner furthest
from
the fire, returning a moment later with a folder which he handed to the T’ang.

‘What is this, Hal?’

Shepherd smiled, then sat again. ‘My thoughts on things.’

Li Shai Tung stared thoughtfully at Shepherd a moment, then set his glass down and
opened the folder.

‘But this is handwritten.’

Shepherd nodded. ‘It’s the only copy. I’ve said things in there that I’d rather not
have fall into the hands of our enemies.’

He looked briefly at his son as he said the last few words, conscious that the boy
was watching everything.

Li Shai Tung looked up at him, his face suddenly hawk-like, his eyes fiercer than
before. ‘Why did you not mention this before?’

‘It was not my place. In any case, it was not ready before now.’

The T’ang looked back down at the folder and at the summary Shepherd had appended
to the front of his report. This was more than a simple distillation of the man’s
thoughts on the
current political situation. Here, in its every detail, was the plan for that ‘War
of Levels’ Shepherd had mentioned earlier. A scheme which would, if implemented, bring
the Seven into
direct confrontation with the House.

Li Shai Tung flicked through the pages of the report quickly, skimming, picking out
phrases that Shepherd had highlighted or underlined, his pulse quickening as he read.
Shepherd’s tiny,
neat handwriting filled almost forty pages, but the meat of it was there, in that
opening summary. He read once more what Shepherd had written.

Power is defined only through the exercise of power. For too long now we have refrained
from openly exercising our power and that restraint has been taken for weakness by
our enemies. In view
of developments it might be argued that they have been justified in this view. However,
our real weakness is not that we lack the potential, but that we lack the will to
act.

We have lost the initiative and allowed our opponents to dictate the subject – even
the rules – of the debate. This has resulted in the perpetuation of the belief that
change is
not merely desirable but inevitable. Moreover, they believe that the natural instrument
of that change is the House, therefore they seek to increase the power of the House.

The logic of this process is inexorable. There is nothing but House and Seven, hence
the House can grow only at the expense of the Seven.

War is inevitable. It can be delayed but not avoided. And every delay is henceforth
to our opponents’ advantage. They grow while we diminish. It follows that we must
pre-empt their play
for power.

We must destroy them now, while we yet have the upper hand.

Li Shai Tung closed the file with a sigh. Shepherd was right. He knew, with a gut
certainty, that this was what they should do. But he had said it already. He was not
simply T’ang, he was
Seven, and the Seven would never act on this. They saw it differently.

‘Well?’

‘I can keep this?’

‘Of course. It was meant for you.’

The T’ang smiled sadly, then looked across at the boy. He spoke to him as he would
to his own son, undeferentially, as one adult to another. ‘Have you seen this, Ben?’

Shepherd answered for his son. ‘You’ve heard him already. He thinks it nonsense.’

Ben corrected his father. ‘Not nonsense. I never said that. I merely said it avoided
the real issue.’

‘Which is?’ Li Shai Tung asked, reaching for his glass.

‘Why men are never satisfied.’

The T’ang considered a moment, then laughed softly. ‘That has always been so. How
can I change what men are?’

‘You could make it better for them. They feel boxed in. Not just physically, but mentally,
too. They’ve no dreams. Not one of them feels real any more.’

There was a moment’s silence, then Hal Shepherd spoke again. ‘You know this, Ben?
You’ve talked to people?’

Ben stared at his father momentarily, then turned his attention back to the T’ang.
‘You can’t miss it. It’s there in all their eyes. There’s an emptiness there. An
unfilled, unfulfilled space deep inside them. I don’t have to talk to them to see
that. I have only to watch the media. It’s like they’re all dead but they can’t see
it.
They’re looking for some purpose for it all and they can’t find it.’

Li Shai Tung stared back at the boy for a moment, then looked down, chilled by what
Ben had said. Was it so? Was it really so? He looked about the room, conscious suddenly
of the lowness of the
ceiling, of the dark oak beams that divided up the whitewashed walls, the fresh-cut
roses in a silver bowl on the table in the corner. He could feel the old wood beneath
his fingers, smell the
strong pine scent of the fire. All this was real. And he, he too was real, surely?
But sometimes, just sometimes…

And you think we could give them a purpose?’

‘No. But you might give them the space to find one for themselves.’

Ah. Space. Well, Ben, there are more than thirty-nine billion people in Chung Kuo.
What practical measures could we possibly take to give space to so many?’

‘You mistake me, Li Shai Tung. You take my image too literally.’ He put a finger to
his brow. ‘I meant space up here. That’s where they’re trapped. The City’s
only the outward, concrete form of it. But the blueprint – the paradigm – is inside
their heads. That’s where you’ve got to give them room. And you can only do that by
giving them a sense of direction.’

‘Change. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’

‘No. You need change nothing.’

‘Then I don’t understand you, Ben. Have you some magic trick in mind?’

‘Not at all. I mean only that if the problem is in their heads then the solution can
be found in the same place. They want outwardness. They want space, excitement, novelty.
Well, why not
give it to them? But not out there, in the real world. Give it to them up here, in
their heads.’

‘But don’t they get that? Doesn’t the media give them that now?’

‘No. I’m talking of something entirely different. Something that will make the walls
dissolve. That will make it real to them.’ Again he tapped his brow. ‘Up here, where
it counts.’

The T’ang was about to answer him when there was a knock on the door.

‘Come in!’ said Shepherd, half turning in his seat.

It was the T’ang’s steward. He bowed low to Shepherd and his son, then turned, his
head still lowered, to his master. ‘Forgive me,
Chieh Hsia,
but you asked me to remind
you of your audience with Minister Chao.’ Then, with a bow, the steward backed away,
closing the door behind him.

Li Shai Tung looked back at Shepherd. ‘I’m sorry, Hal, but I must leave soon.’

‘Of course…’ Shepherd began, but his son interrupted him.

‘One last thing, Li Shai Tung.’

The T’ang turned, patient, smiling. ‘What is it, Ben?’

‘I saw something. This afternoon, in the town.’

‘You
saw
something?’

‘An execution. And a suicide. Two of the elite guards.’

‘Gods!’ The T’ang sat forward. ‘You saw that?’

‘We were upstairs in one of the shops.’

Shepherd broke in. ‘
We
. You mean Meg was with you?’

Ben nodded, then told what he had seen. At the end Li Shai Tung, his face stricken,
turned to Shepherd. ‘Forgive me, Hal. This is all my fault. Captain Rosten was acting
on my direct
orders. However, had I known Ben and Meg would be there…’ He shuddered, then turned
back to the boy. ‘Ben, please forgive me. And ask Meg to forgive me, too. Would that
I could
undo what has been done.’

For a moment Ben seemed about to say something, then he dropped his eyes and made
a small movement of his head. A negation. But what it signified neither man knew.

There was another knock on the door; a signal that the T’ang acknowledged with a few
words of Mandarin. Then the two men stood, facing each other, smiling, for a brief
moment in perfect
accord.

‘It has been an honour to have you here, Li Shai Tung. An honour and a pleasure.’

The T’ang’s smile broadened. ‘The pleasure has been mine, Hal. It is not often I can
be myself

‘Then come again. Whenever you need to be yourself

Li Shai Tung let his left hand rest on Shepherd’s upper arm a moment, then nodded.
‘I shall. I promise you. But come, Hal, I’ve a gift for you.’

The door opened and two of the T’ang’s personal servants came in, carrying the gift.
They set it down on the floor in the middle of the room, as the T’ang had instructed
them
earlier, then backed away, heads lowered. It was a tree. A tiny, miniature apple tree.

Shepherd went across and knelt beside it, then turned and looked back at Li Shai Tung,
clearly moved by the T’ang’s gesture.

‘It’s beautiful. It really is, Shai Tung. How did you know I wanted one?’

The T’ang laughed softly. ‘I cheated, Hal. I asked Beth. But the gift is for you both.
Look carefully. The tree is a twin. It has two intertwined trunks.’

Shepherd looked. ‘Ah, yes.’ He laughed, aware of the significance. Joined trees were
objects of good omen; symbols of conjugal happiness and marital fidelity. More than
that, an
apple –
p’ing,
in Mandarin – was a symbol of peace. ‘It’s perfect, Li Shai Tung. It really is.’
He shook his head, overwhelmed, tears forming in his eyes.
‘We shall treasure it.’

And I this.’ Li Shai Tung held up Shepherd’s file. He smiled, then turned to the boy.
‘It was good to talk with you, Ben. I hope we might talk again some time.’

Ben stood and, unexpectedly, gave a small bow to the T’ang.

‘My father’s right, of course. You should destroy them. Now, while you still can.’

Ah…’ Li Shai Tung hesitated, then nodded.
Maybe so
, he thought, surprised yet again by the child’s unpredictability. But he said nothing.
Time alone would prove them
right or wrong.

He looked back at Shepherd who was standing now. ‘I must go, Hal. It would not do
to keep Minister Chao waiting.’ He laughed. ‘You know, Chao has been in my service
longer than
anyone butTolonen.’

It was said before he realized it.

‘I forget…’ he said, with a small, sad laugh.

Shepherd, watching him, shook his head. ‘Bring him back, Shai Tung,’ he said softly.
‘This once, do as your heart bids you.’

The T’ang smiled tightly and held the file more firmly. ‘Maybe,’ he said. But he knew
he would not. It was as he had said. He was T’ang, yes, but he was also Seven.

When the T’ang had gone they stood at the river’s edge. The moon was high overhead
– a bright, full moon that seemed to float in the dark mirror of the water.
The night was warm and still, its silence broken only by the sound – a distant, almost
disembodied sound – of the soldiers working on the cottage.

Shepherd squatted down, looking out across the water into the darkness on the other
side.

‘What did you mean, Ben, earlier? All that business about dissolving walls and making
it real. Was that just talk or did you have something real in mind?’

Ben was standing several paces from his father, looking back up the grassy slope to
where they had set up arc lamps all around the cottage. The dark figures of the suited
men seemed to flit
through the glare like objects seen peripherally, in a dream.

‘It’s an idea I have. Something I’ve been working on.’

Shepherd turned his head slightly and studied his son a moment. ‘You seemed quite
confident. As if the thing existed.’

Ben smiled. ‘It does. Up here.’

Shepherd laughed and looked down, tugging at the long grass. ‘So what is it? I’m interested.
And I think the T’ang was interested, too.’

‘What did he want?’

A faint breeze ruffled the water, making the moon dance exaggeratedly on the darkness.
‘What do you mean?’

‘Why was I there?’

Shepherd smiled to himself. He should have known better than to think Ben would not
ask that question.

‘Because he wanted to see you, Ben. Because he thinks that one day you might help
his son.’

‘I see. And he was assessing me?’

‘You might put it that way.’

Ben laughed. ‘I thought as much. Do you think he found me strange?’

‘Why should you think that?’

Ben looked directly at his father. ‘I know what I am. I’ve seen enough of the world
to know how different I am.’

‘On a screen, yes. But not everything’s up there on the screen, Ben.’

‘No?’ Ben looked back up the slope towards the cottage. They were hauling the first
of the thin, encasing layers over the top of the frame, the heavily suited men pulling
on the
guide ropes. ‘What don’t they show?’

Hal laughed, but let the query pass. Ben was right. He did know what he was, and he
was
different. There was no point in denying that.

‘You’ve no need to follow in my footsteps.’

Ben smiled but didn’t look at him. ‘You think I’d want that?’

Shepherd felt a twinge of bitterness, then shook his head. ‘No, I guess not. In any
case, I’d never force that on you. You know that, don’t you?’