The White Mountain (29 page)

Chen made himself relax. So that was it. They were out of funds and thought they could shake down one of the junior boys. He smiled and touched the tiny eye on his tunic's lapel, activating it. ‘I don't think my son has any business with you, friend. So be on your way.'

The first youth laughed; a false, high laugh that was clearly a signal. At the sound of it, four more youths stepped out from doorways behind him.

‘As I said, the boy owes us money. Twenty yuan.'

Chen put his left arm out, moving Jyan back, behind him. ‘You have proof of this?'

‘Not on me,' the first youth said, his face ugly now, his body movements suddenly more menacing. ‘But he does. And I want it. So unless you want to call me a liar…'

Chen smiled, moving his body slightly, so that the camera would capture all their faces. ‘Oh, I'm sure there's no need for that, friend. But I'm afraid my son doesn't have a single
fen
on him, let alone twenty yuan.'

The youth's eyes flickered to the side, then looked back at Chen, a smile
coming to his lips. ‘Well, what about you,
lao jen
? They say a father is responsible for his son's debts. I reckon you're good for twenty
yuan
.'

Chen smiled and shook his head, taking a step back. ‘I've spent my money, friend. Now let us pass. Our home is up ahead.'

There was a peel of mocking laughter from behind the two youths. The taller of them stepped forward, resting his hand lightly on Chen's shoulder.

‘I'm sorry…
friend…
but I don't believe you. I saw the note you paid with at the picture house. You can't have spent it all, can you?'

Chen looked at the hand on his shoulder. It was a thin, ugly hand. It would be easy – and immensely satisfying – to take it from his shoulder and crush it. But he could not do that. He was an officer of the T'ang. And besides, Jyan had to learn the right way of doing things.

Chen took a breath, then bowed his head, taking the slender, crumpled note from his pocket and handing it to the youth.

‘Good…' The youth squeezed Chen's shoulder reassuringly, then turned, holding the note up triumphantly for his friends to see. They whooped and jeered, making hand gestures at Chen. Then, with a final, mocking bow, the youth turned and strolled arrogantly away, his friends parting before him, one of them turning to send a final gesture of contempt.

Chen watched them go, then turned, looking down at his son. Jyan was standing there sullenly, his head turned away, held stiffly.

‘I had to…' Chen began, but Jyan shook his head violently.

‘You let them piss on us!'

Chen felt himself go still. He had never heard Jyan swear in front of him before. Neither had he ever heard that tone of anger – of hurt and fierce disapproval.

‘There were six of them. Someone would have got hurt.'

Jyan looked up, glaring at him. ‘
You
, you mean!'

It wasn't what he'd meant, but he didn't argue. He took a breath, spelling it out clearly, trying to make his son understand. ‘I am an officer of the T'ang's Security forces, Jyan, and I am off duty. I am not empowered to brawl in the corridors.'

‘They pissed on us,' Jyan said again, glaring at his father, close to tears now. ‘And you let them get away with it. You just handed the money over to them, like some low-level oaf!'

Chen lifted his hand abruptly, then let it fall. ‘You don't understand, Jyan. I've got it all on camera. I…'

Jyan gave a huff of derision and turned, beginning to walk away.

‘
Jyan
! Listen to me!'

The boy shook his head, not looking back. ‘You let them piss on us!'

Chen stood there a moment longer, watching him, shaking his head, then began to follow.

Back at the apartment, he went through to the end bedroom. Wang Ti was seated on the bed, packing his kit.

‘Where is he?' he said quietly.

She looked up at him, then pointed to the closed door of Jyan's room. ‘There,' she mouthed. ‘But leave him be.'

He looked at her, then looked down, sighing heavily. Seeing that, she stopped and came across, holding him to her. ‘What is it?' she asked quietly.

He closed the door behind him, then told her what had happened, explaining what he planned to do. If he acted now, they could trace the note to the youths. That and the evidence of the camera eye would be enough to have the boys demoted to a lower deck. It was the proper way of doing things. The effective way, for it rid the level of that kind of scum. But for once he felt a strong sense of dissatisfaction.

‘You were right, Chen,' she said softly. ‘And what you did was right. There must be laws. We cannot live as they did in the old days. It would be like the Net up here if it were otherwise.'

‘I know,' he said, ‘but I let him down. I could see it in his face. He thinks I am a coward.'

Wang Ti shook her head, pained. ‘And you, Chen? Do you consider yourself a coward? No. You are
kwai
, husband. Whatever clothes you wear, you will always be
kwai
. But sometimes it is right to avoid trouble. You have said so yourself. Sometimes one must bend like a reed.'

‘
Ai ya…
' He turned his head aside, but she drew it gently back.

‘Let him be, Chen. He'll come round. Just now his head is filled with heroics. That film you took him to see. His imagination was racing with it. But life is not like that. Sometimes one must concede to get one's way.'

He stared back at her, knowing she was right, but some part of him couldn't help thinking that he should have acted. Should have crushed the boy's hand and broken a few of their hot heads. To teach them a lesson.

And impress his son…

He looked down. ‘It hurts, Wang Ti. To have him look at me like that. To have him say those things…'

She touched his cheek tenderly, her caress, like her voice, a balm. ‘I know, my love. But that too is a kind of bravery, no? To face that hurt and conquer it. For the good. Knowing you did right.' She smiled. ‘He'll come round, Chen. I know he will. He's a good boy and he loves you. So just leave him be a while, neh?'

He nodded. ‘Well… I'd best get Deck Security on to it. I've got to report back in a few hours, so there's not much time.'

She smiled and turned away, returning to her packing. ‘And, Chen?'

‘Yes?' he said, turning at the door, looking back at her.

‘Don't do anything silly. Remember what I said. You know what you are. Let that be enough.'

He hesitated, then nodded. But even as he turned away he knew it wasn't.
Damn them
! he thought, wondering what it was that twisted men's souls so much that they could not exist without tormenting others.

In the long, broad hallway that led to the Hall of the Serene Ultimate it was cool and silent and dimly lit. From the dark, animal mouths of cressets set high in the blood-red walls, naked, oil-fed flames gave off a thin, watery glow that flickered on the tiled mosaic of the floor and gave a dozen wavering shadows to the slender pillars that lined each side. The long shapes of dragons coiled upwards about these pillars in alternating reds and greens, stretching towards the heavens of the ceiling where, in the flicker of dark and light, a battle between gods and demons raged in bas relief.

Between the pillars stood the guards, unmoving, at attention. Light glimmered dimly on their burnished armour, revealing the living moistness of their eyes. They faced the outer doors prepared, their lives a wall, defending their lords and masters.

At their backs was a second double door, locked now. Beyond it, the Seven sat in conference. There it was warmer, brighter. Each T'ang sat easy in a padded chair, relaxed, their ceremonial silks the only outward sign of ritual. Wang Sau-leyan, host of this Council, was talking, discussing the package of proposals Li Yuan had set before them.

Li Yuan sat facing Wang, a hard knot of tension in his chest. Earlier, he had been taken aback by the unexpected warmth of the young T'ang of Africa's greeting. He had come expecting coldness, even overt hostility, but Wang's embrace, his easy laughter had thrown him. And so now. For while his words seemed fair – seemed to endorse, even to embrace Li Yuan's scheme for the days ahead – Li Yuan could not shed the habit of suspicion. Wang Sau-leyan was such a consummate actor – such a
natural
politician – that to take anything he did or said at face value was to leave oneself open, unguarded, vulnerable to the next twist or turn of his mood.

Li Yuan eased back into the cushions, forcing himself to relax, trying to see through the veil of Wang's words. Beside him, he could sense Tsu Ma shift in his chair.

‘And so…' Wang said, looking across at Li Yuan again, his smile clear, untroubled, ‘my feeling is that we must support Li Yuan's ideas. To do otherwise would be unwise, maybe even disastrous.' He looked about him, raising his plump hands in a gesture of acceptance. ‘I realize that I have argued otherwise in the past, but in the last six months I have come to see that we must face these problems
now
, before it is too late. That we must deal with them resolutely, with the will to overcome all difficulties.'

Li Yuan was aware of how closely Wang's words echoed his father's. But was that deliberate on Wang's part or mere unconscious echo?

He looked up, noting how Wang was watching him, and nodded.

‘Good,' Wang said, turning to face Wu Shih and Wei Feng, understanding that only those two alone remained to be convinced. ‘In that case, I propose that we draft a much fuller document to be agreed and ratified by us at the next meeting of this Council.'

Li Yuan looked to Tsu Ma, surprised. Was that it? Was there to be no sting in the tail?

Tsu Ma leaned forward, a soft laugh forming a prologue to his words. ‘I am glad that we see eye to eye on this matter, cousin, but let me make this clear. Are you proposing that we adopt Li Yuan's package of measures, or are you suggesting some…
alteration
of their substance?'

Wang Sau-leyan's smile was disarming. ‘In essence I see nothing wrong with Li Yuan's proposals, yet in matters of this kind we must make sure that the fine detail – the drafting of the laws themselves – are to our satisfaction, neh? To allow too little would be as bad as to allow too much. The changes to
the Edict must be regulated finely, as must the laws on population growth. The
balance
must be right, would you not agree, Wei Feng?'

Wei Feng, addressed unexpectedly, considered the matter a moment. He was looking old these days, markedly tired, and for the last meeting he had let his eldest son, Wei Chan Yin, sit in for him. But this time, in view of the importance of the meeting, he had decided to attend in person. He sat forward slightly, clearly in pain, and nodded.

‘That is so, Wang Sau-leyan. And I am gratified to hear you talk of balance. I have heard many things today that I thought not to hear in my lifetime, yet I cannot say you are wrong. Things have changed these last ten years. And if it takes this package of measures to set things right, we must pursue this course, as my cousin Wang says, resolutely and with the will to overcome all difficulties. Yet we would do well to take our own counsel on the extent and nature of these changes before we make them. We must understand the likely outcome of our actions.'

Wang bowed his head respectfully. ‘I agree, honoured cousin. There is great wisdom in your words. And that is why I propose that a joint committee be set up to investigate the likely consequences of such measures. Moreover, might I suggest that my cousin, Wei Feng's man, Minister Sheng, be appointed Head of that committee, reporting back directly to this Council with his findings.'

Li Yuan stared at Tsu Ma, astonished. Minister Sheng! It was Sheng whom he and Tsu Ma had planned to propose as the new Steward for GenSyn – Sheng who was the linchpin of their scheme to keep the company from financial ruin – but somehow Wang Sau-leyan had found out, and now he had pre-empted them, robbing them of their candidate, knowing they had prepared no other. Wei Feng was nodding, immensely pleased by the suggestion. A moment later a vote had carried the decision unanimously, bringing them on to the next piece of business, the question of GenSyn and how it was to be administered.

‘But first let us eat,' Wang said, lifting his bulky figure from the chair. ‘I don't know about you, cousins, but I could eat an ox, raw if necessary.'

There was laughter, but it was not shared by Li Yuan or Tsu Ma – they were still reeling from the shock of Wang's final twist. Li Yuan looked across, meeting Wang's eyes. Before they had been clear, but now there was a hardness, a small gleam of satisfaction in them.

Li Yuan bit back his anger, then leaned forward and picked up the silk-bound folder, gripping it tightly as he made his way across and out on to the balcony. Only minutes ago he had decided not to use what he knew, but now he was determined.

No. He was not finished yet. Let Wang Sau-leyan savour his tiny victory, for this day would see him humbled, his power in Council broken for all time.

And nothing –
nothing
– would stop him now.

At that moment, twenty thousand
li
away, at Nanking spaceport, a tall Han, wearing the outworld fashions of the Mars Colony, was stepping down from the interplanetary craft
Wuhan
. He had been through one exhaustive security check on board the ship, but another lay ahead. Ever since the attempt on Marshal Tolonen's life, security had been tight at Nanking.

He joined the queue, staring out across the massive landing pit dispassionately. The tests inside the ship had interested him. They were looking for abnormalities; for differences in the rib structure and the upper chest; signs of unusual brain scan patterns. He had had to produce a sample of his urine and his faecal matter. Likewise he had had to spit into a small ceramic dish. And afterwards the guard had looked up at him and smiled. ‘It's all right,' he'd said, laughing, as if he'd cracked the joke a thousand times, ‘you're human.'