Son of Heaven (52 page)

In China itself, there had been chaos in those first few weeks. Tsao Ch’un had expected as much, and let the storm blow itself out before sending in his troops. By which time people were
glad to see order restored, a firm hand imposed. Tsao Ch’un was seen as a hero, a protector of the people.

It was the beginning of a new age. The old order – the
Western
order – had been destroyed. It had been shut down and switched off. To all intents and purposes it was dead. But
Tsao Ch’un knew that if his new world were to be built, let alone last, he would have to make sure that the old world
stayed
dead.

What followed was the most critical part of Tsao Ch’un’s scheme, known to all who took part in it as ‘The Long Campaign’.

Whenever there was the slightest sign of ‘re-awakening’ – the opening of a radio station, say, or the rebuilding of some key installation – Tsao Ch’un’s men
would be there at once to destroy it, wherever in the world it was. It was a campaign to prevent and suppress not only new growth, but the repair and reconstruction of old technologies. The old
world – the world of the Western powers – was not to be allowed to return.

It was not easy. Several times things seemed to have evolved beyond their control. But Tsao Ch’un’s forces always triumphed. Until that urge to return things back to how they were,
driven as it had been by the memory of the past, began to falter as a new generation grew up, a host of new people – innocents, one might call them – whose memory of that world was
second hand at best. A new generation to whom the old machines meant nothing; to whom the idea of a world ‘connected up’, with instant news from every point on the globe, seemed more a
fantasy than anything that had really happened.

And so a new Dark Ages fell. A time of warlords and marauding bands.

It was a simpler, more brutal world. A world ripe for the plucking, if you were capable. And one man was. Tsao Ch’un. For this he had prepared, and now the third and final phase began, as
the great, spider-like machines were sent out from Pei Ch’ing, to build the great city that was to last ten thousand years. A city which, like some vast glacier, would stretch across the
globe, from ocean to ocean, quite literally burying the past.

The very thought of it daunted Jake. It made his balls retract simply thinking of how small he was in the face of such mighty processes. To destroy a world to build a world. It was inhuman to
think in such a fashion. Yet one man had dared and, having dared, had triumphed. Thus far, anyway.

Jake sat again, looking about him, wondering how much longer it would be.

It had been hours since Jiang Lei had left, but there was still no sign of Mary and the kids. No tangible proof that Jiang’s promise would be kept.

Jiang Lei had told him what came next. Another camp. But this one different. A ‘re-education camp’.

‘The past,’ Jiang had said, ‘is dead. There is only the future. You must embrace it,
Shih
Reed, for there is nothing else. You understand?’

He didn’t. Not yet. But he was sure he would. In time.

Mary watched as Jiang Lei stood and, with the slightest bow, handed Beth her ID card.

Beth was the last of them to be processed. As she turned and looked across at her mother, she smiled.

Thank god, Mary thought. If any one of them had not got through…

Only they had. So now they must get on with things, without Jake.

They were about to follow the others over to the transport ship, when a couple of the guards came across and, barring their way, indicated another, smaller ship, just across from them.

‘But we’re through,’ Mary said, pointing to the larger ship, afraid that this was one last horrible twist. ‘Our people are all in there.’

‘You must go,’ one of them said, gesturing to the smaller craft. ‘You not with the others now.’

Mary turned, looking back to the senior official, but he was already processing the next person.

The guard nudged her forward. ‘Now… you must go. The general say you must go…’

Her head went down. So this was it. To get so far and then…

‘Come on,’ she said, looking to the others. ‘Let’s do as the man says.’

She could see, even from this distance, that it was a military craft, not a transport. Two soldiers guarded its ramp. As they got closer, the two stood back, gesturing with their rifles that
they should get on board.

Mary looked about her. None of the others could meet her eyes now. They all knew, just as she knew, that something had gone wrong.

At the foot of the ramp she stopped, looking back across the camp. It was probably the last time she would ever see her neighbours. All those friends. All those happy years she’d spent
with them.

‘Beth… Cath… come here… Peter, look after Meg…’

She took her two eldest under her arms, then began to climb the ramp. Only right then someone appeared in the darkness just above them.

‘Mary…’

The girls squealed and rushed forward, hugging Jake, while Peter stood back, with Mary, looking on.

She looked to the boy. Tears were streaming down his face, but he was smiling. Grinning like an idiot.

Jake kissed all of the girls, then, stepping away from them, came down and hugged Peter, clasping the boy to him fiercely.

‘Thank god… thank fucking god!’

Peter squeezed him back, then released him.

Jake turned, facing Mary.

‘Well? You coming along?’

Mary still looked uncertain. ‘That craft…?’

‘Is Jiang Lei’s own. His men are to fly us to the camp.’

‘Another camp?’

‘Yes, but a better one than this. That’s where we’re going to begin to become citizens.’

‘Ah…’ And she almost smiled.

But Jake
was
smiling now. ‘You know, I thought I’d never see you again. I thought…’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you, Mary. Those
people…’

‘But it’s okay now?’

‘Yeah…’ He sighed, then, ‘Well? Do I get a kiss?’

She stepped across and put her arms about him, putting her lips to his. For a moment there was only that. Then, realizing that the children were watching, the two moved back, awkward again, like
teenagers.

Beth looked to her sisters. ‘Let’s get inside. And Jake…?’

‘Yes, my darling girl?’

‘We’re glad you’re back.’

Jiang Lei looked on as his men took down and packed his tent.

They were moving today, setting up a new encampment, ready for the push on Dorchester. Their job here was done, the villages emptied, the people processed. Across the way, near one of the big
cruisers, he could see Wang Yu-Lai, talking with the men.

Wang had become more arrogant since the incident with Reed. What had been difficult before was now, Jiang felt, impossible, for Wang and his Masters had taken Wen P’ing’s instruction
to cooperate as an invitation to interfere.

That little skirmish the other day, at the processing, was, Jiang Lei knew, just the start. It had caused the death of yet another fine, upstanding man, a potential citizen, punished for
something which, in essence, had been entirely Wang’s fault.

A broken nose was the very least he himself would have given Wang.

And Wang would do yet more mischief. He would take every opportunity now to insinuate himself and make things hard for Jiang. Any pretence Wang had shown at showing him respect had vanished. He
was there now to make Jiang’s life hell, to wear him down until he quit and let one of their puppets take his place.

No doubt they already had a candidate in mind…

Only the business with Reed had hardened him. Had reminded him just why he had taken this appointment.

He was there to give some degree of reality to the semblance. To fulfil the ancient dream of wisdom in government – the Confucian ideal. If he let go his belief in that, then what was
left? Only barbarism. Only the rule of naked force.

Even so, he found it hard some days, keeping that particular lamp alight.

Ma Feng, his new stripes showing on his arm, approached him.

‘We are ready, General. Do you wish to come on board?’

Jiang hesitated. It was tempting to leave Wang where he was. To lift off, leaving him to travel in another of the craft, but that would only have resulted in yet another tiresome report, another
petty complaint.

Besides which, Wen P’ing had ordered him to cooperate.

‘Captain Ma… go and invite Wang Yu-Lai to travel with me. Tell him… I would welcome him as my guest.’

Ma Feng’s eyes widened.

‘Yes, General!’

As Jiang climbed aboard, lifting his silks up as he went, so he found himself frowning. Was this a punishment for some former incarnation? Had he, in some previous life, incurred this awful
penalty?

To suffer at the hands of smaller men…

Jiang took his seat, strapping himself into the plush black leather, calming himself inwardly, knowing, even before Wang appeared a moment later, that he would need all of his patience in the
coming weeks.

See it as a test, he told himself. Rise above such pettiness.

Only the very sound of Wang’s voice grated on his ears, and as the man came into the cabin, Jiang found himself staring at him with contempt, unable not to.

He tried to smile. ‘Wang Yu-Lai… please, make yourself comfortable.’

Wang’s smile was equally fake. His eyes met Jiang’s for the briefest moment, then looked away, like they had better things to look at.

‘Pilot Wu…’ Jiang called, leaning forward slightly, to look into the cockpit. ‘Fly us over the old castle, neh? I’d like to see it one final time before we
leave.’

He settled back, aware that Wang was watching him, no longer concealing it, like he was studying some specimen in a jar.

It made his flesh crawl. To be the subject of observation of such a man.

‘What is it, Wang Yu-Lai?’

‘I was just thinking… about Reed…’

‘What about him?’

‘Just that I would like to see him one last time. He seemed…
special
to you. It would be interesting to find out why.’

Jiang looked down at his hands, saw how they were gripping each other. Such little things no doubt gave him away, but he was damned if he would react in any other fashion.

Besides, Reed was safe. There was no way Wang could touch him now. He was in the programme. He and his family. As far from here as Jiang could send them.

He looked to Wang. ‘Have you any family, Wang Yu-Lai? A wife? Brothers?’

Jiang knew the answer. Knew it because The Thousand Eyes did not use any other kind. Wang was an orphan. Nor was he allowed to marry. For the agents of the Ministry were to have no distractions.
And no weaknesses to be exploited by others. A family made a man weak. Made him vulnerable. As Jiang knew to his cost.

Wang had turned away, scowling.

Good, Jiang thought, smiling to himself. Then there’s still a chance I might stay sane. If I can get under his skin as he gets under mine.

Only would it be enough?

The craft lifted.

‘Pilot Wu,’ he called. ‘Give me the front view.’

‘Yes, General.’

At once the big screen in front of Jiang lit up, showing the view from the cockpit. As they climbed, so the view opened up before them, the countryside a tapestry of greens and browns to their
left, the sea in the distance, while to their right were the city’s new-built outposts, great hexagonal slabs of whiteness that rested like marbled mausoleums on the land.

‘It’s an impressive sight, neh, Wang Yu-Lai?’

Wang shrugged. It seemed his purpose not to agree with Jiang.

‘Tell me, Cadre Wang… are you specially trained to be such an arse?’

Wang glared at him. ‘I would be careful what you say, General Jiang…’

Jiang was watching the screen, seeing, as the craft turned, the mound of the ancient castle come into view to the far left of the picture.

‘Oh, I know what Wen P’ing said, it’s just…’

The words died in his mouth. They were gone! The great stone towers were gone! And the mound itself… it had been gouged in several places. Eaten away, it seemed. Massive diggers with
caterpillar tracks were working away at it, chewing it up, whole teams of men shovelling the earth and rock into big tippers. Long lines of them that covered the once-green slopes.

Jiang felt a sadness at the sight. It was just as he’d said – they were not going to let such a small thing interrupt their path – only seeing it made him realize what a shame
it was. Yes, and how much was being lost.

One whole world traded in for another. A world made of plastic, filled with reconstituted men.

That much he didn’t envy Reed. Jiang looked down, remembering something. There was a film he’d seen, years ago, before the Collapse, when he was still a young man. Even then the film
had been old. But it had been a classic. One of the West’s finest critiques of itself. Jack Nicholson had starred, and a whole bunch of other eccentric characters. The one who’d caught
his attention, however, was the nurse. The one in charge of the asylum. He couldn’t remember now what the film had been called, but its ending had always haunted him. How the Nicholson
character had finally been crushed, his brain lobotomized, his memories and his rebellious spirit taken from him.

That, it seemed to Jiang, was what they were doing here, only on a massive scale. Doing it not to an individual but to a whole population. Reducing it. Lobotomizing it. And, in so doing, turning
it into a world where people weren’t given a choice; where they were forced to conform, to toe the line. Or die.

And how, in supervising that, did he differ from the likes of Wang?

Too far, he told himself. Much, much too far.

For wasn’t that the ethos that had driven them, these past three millennia? To build a society based on conformity and acceptable behaviour? To reward virtue and punish errant
behaviour?

Yes, only Jiang knew this was different. For the
Hung Mao
especially. For what they were in effect creating here was a breed of zombies, of amnesiacs, schooled to forget their collective
past and embrace the lie.

Jiang swallowed, bitter suddenly, unsettled and angry at having had these thoughts awoken in him.