The White Mountain (31 page)

Wang sat forward, his face suddenly hard. ‘Forgive me, cousin, but I do not understand. Since Klaus Ebert's death, this matter has been brought before this Council twice. On both occasions there was a unanimous agreement to postpone. For good reason, for no solution was forthcoming. But now we have the answer. Hou Tung-po's proposal is the solution we were looking for.'

Tsu Ma's laugh was heavily sardonic. ‘You call that a solution, cousin? It sounds to me like a bureaucratic nightmare – a recipe not for stability but for certain financial disaster.'

Hou Tung-po sat forward, his face red with anger, but Wang's raised hand silenced him.

‘Had this matter not been raised before, Tsu Ma, and were there not already a satisfactory solution before us – one you will have a full opportunity to debate – I would understand your desire to look for other answers, but the time for prevarication is past. As I was saying, we must act now or see the company damaged, perhaps irreparably.'

Wang paused, looking to Wei Feng, appealing to the old man directly. As things stood, Hou Tung-po and Chi Ling would support Wang, while Tsu Ma and Wu Shih would line up behind Li Yuan. If it came to a fight, Wei Feng held the casting vote.

Wang smiled, softening his stance.

‘Besides, what objections could my cousins possibly have to the idea of a ruling committee? Would that not give us each a fair say in the running of the company? Would that not demonstrate – more clearly than anything – that the Seven have full confidence in the continuing prosperity of GenSyn?'

Li Yuan looked away. Whilst in terms of holdings it was second behind the giant MedFac company on the Hang Seng Index, GenSyn was, without doubt, the single most important commercial concern on Chung Kuo, and, as Tsu Ma had rightly said, any weakening of the company would affect him far more than it did Wang Sau-leyan.

But that could not be said. Not openly. For to say as much would give Wang the chance to get back at Li Yuan for his family's special relationship with GenSyn – a relationship which, though it had existed for a century or more, was, in truth, against the spirit of the Seven.

Li Yuan sat back, meeting Tsu Ma's eyes. They would have to give way. Minister Sheng had been their winning card, and Wang had already taken him from their hand.

‘Cousin Wang,' he said coldly. ‘I concede. Let us adopt cousin Hou's proposal. As you say, what possible objection could we have to such a scheme?'

He drew a breath, finding comfort in the presence of the silk-bound folder in his lap – in the thought of the humiliation he would shortly inflict on Wang. Then – from nowhere, it seemed – a new thought came to him. He leaned forward again, the sheer outrageousness of the idea making him want to laugh aloud.

‘Indeed,' he said softly, ‘let me make my own proposal. If the Council permits, I would like to suggest that Marshal Tolonen be replaced in his high post and appointed as Head of the ruling committee of GenSyn.' He looked at Wang directly. ‘As my cousin argued so eloquently, we need to boost the market's confidence, and what clearer sign could we give than to make a man of such experience and integrity the head of our committee?'

He saw the movement in Wang's face and knew he had him. Wang could object, of course, but on what grounds? On the unsuitability of the candidate? No. For to argue that would be to argue that their original ratification of Tolonen as Marshal had been wrong, and that he could not –
would not
– do.

Li Yuan looked about him, seeing the nods of agreement from all sides – even from Wang's own allies – and knew he had succeeded in limiting the
damage. With Tolonen in charge there was a much greater chance of things getting done. It would mean a loss of influence in the Council of Generals, but that was as nothing beside the potential loss of GenSyn's revenues.

He met Wang's eyes, triumphant, but Wang had not finished.

‘I am delighted that my cousin recognizes the urgency of this matter. However, I am concerned whether my cousin really means what he says. It would not, after all, be the first time that he has promised this Council something, only to go back on his word.'

Li Yuan started forward, outraged by Wang's words. All around him there was a buzz of astonishment and indignation. But it was Wei Feng who spoke first, his deeply lined face grown stern and rock-like as he sat stiffly upright in his chair. His gruff voice boomed, all sign of frailty gone from it.

‘You had best explain yourself, Wang Sau-leyan, or withdraw your words. I have never heard the like!'

‘No?' Wang stood in a flurry of silks, looking about him defiantly. ‘Nor would you have, cousin, had there not been good reason. I am talking of Li Yuan's promise to this Council that he would release the young sons – a promise that my cousins, Wu Shih and Tsu Ma were also party to.' He shifted his bulk, looking about the circle of his fellow T'ang. ‘It is six months since they gave that promise and what has happened? Are the sons back with their fathers? Is the matter resolved, the grievance of those high citizens settled? No. The fathers remain unappeased, rightfully angry that – after giving our word – their sons remain imprisoned.'

Li Yuan stood, facing Wang. ‘There is good reason why the sons have not been released, and you know it.'

‘Know it?' Wang laughed contemptuously. ‘All I know is that you gave your word. Immediately, you said.'

‘And so it would have been had the paperwork gone smoothly.'

‘
Paperwork
… ?' Wang's mocking laughter goaded Wu Shih to rise and stand beside Li Yuan, his fists clenched, his face livid.

‘You know as well as any of us why there have been delays, Wang Sau-leyan! Considering the gravity of the circumstances, the terms of release were laughable. All we asked of the fathers was that they should sign a bond of good behaviour. It was the very minimum we could have asked for, and yet they refused, quibbling over the wording of the papers.'

‘With every right, if what I've heard is true…'

Wu Shih bristled. ‘And what
have
you heard,
cousin?
'

Wang Sau-leyan half turned, then turned back, moving a step closer, his face thrust almost into Wu Shih's. ‘That it has been your officials and not the fathers who have quibbled over the precise wording of these…
bonds
. That they have dragged their heels and delayed until even the best man's patience would be frayed. That they have found every excuse – however absurd – not to come to terms. In short, that they have been ordered to delay matters.'

‘Ordered?'
Wu Shih shuddered with rage, then lifted his hand, as if to strike Wang, but Li Yuan put out his arm, coming between them.

‘Cousins…' he said urgently, ‘let us remember where we are.' He turned his head, staring fiercely at Wang. ‘We will achieve nothing by hurling insults at each other.'

‘You gave your word,' Wang said, defiantly, meeting his eyes coldly. ‘All three of you. Immediately, you said. Without conditions.' He took a breath, then turned away, taking his seat.

Wu Shih glared at Wang a moment longer then stepped back, his disgust at his cousin no longer concealed. Li Yuan stood there, feeling the tensions that flowed like electric currents in the air about him and knew – for the first time knew beyond all doubt – that this was a breach that could never be healed. He took his seat again, leaning down to lift the folder from where it had fallen.

‘Wang Sau-leyan,' he began, looking across at his moon-faced cousin, calm now that he had taken the first step, ‘there is a small matter I would like to raise before we continue. A matter of… etiquette.'

Wang Sau-leyan smiled. ‘As you wish, cousin.'

Li Yuan opened the folder, looking down at the wafer-thin piece of black plastic. It was the template of a hologrammic image: the image of Wang Sau-leyan in the garden at Tao Yuan, meeting with Li Yuan's bondsman, Hsiang Shao-erh. There were other things in the folder – a taped copy of their conversation, and the testimony of Wang's Master of the Royal Household, Sun Li Hua, but it was the holo that was the most damning piece of evidence.

He made to offer it to Wang, but Wang shook his head. ‘I know what it is, Li Yuan. You have no need to show me.'

Li Yuan gave a small laugh of astonishment. What was this? Was Wang admitting his treachery?

With what seemed like resignation, Wang pulled himself up out of the chair and went to the double doors, unlocking them and throwing them open. At his summons a servant approached, head bowed, bearing a large, white lacquered box. Wang took it and turned, facing his fellow T'ang.

‘I wondered when you would come to this,' he said, approaching to within an arm's length of where Li Yuan was sitting. ‘Here. I was saving this for you. As for the traitor, Sun, he has found peace. After telling me everything, of course.'

Li Yuan took the box, his heart pounding.

He opened it and stared, horrified. From within the bright red wrappings of the box Hsiang Shao-erh stared back at him, his eyes like pale grey, bloated moons in an unnaturally white face, the lids peeled back. And then, slowly, very slowly, as in a dream, the lips began to move.

‘Forgive… me…
Chieh… Hsia
… I… confess… my… treachery… and… ask… you… not… to… punish… my… kin… for… my… abjec … unworthiness…' There was a tiny shudder from the severed head, and then it went on, the flat, almost gravelly whisper like the voice of stone itself. ‘Forgive… them…
Chieh
…
Hsia
… I… beg… you… Forgive… them…'

Li Yuan looked up, seeing his horror reflected in every face but one. Then, with a shudder of revulsion, he dropped the box, watching it fall, the frozen head roll unevenly across the thick pile of the carpet until it lay still, resting on its cheek beside Wang Sau-leyan's foot. Bending down, the T'ang of Africa lifted it and held it up, offering it to Li Yuan, the smile on his face like the rictus of a corpse.

‘This is yours, I believe, cousin.' Then he began to laugh, his laughter rolling from him in great waves. ‘Yours…'

‘What's your name?'

‘Kung Lao.'

‘And yours?'

‘Kung Yi-lung.'

‘You're brothers, then?'

The nine-year-old, Yi-lung, shook his head. ‘Cousins,' he said quietly, still not sure of this man who, despite his air of kindness, wore the T'ang's uniform.

Chen sat back slightly, smiling. ‘Okay. You were friends of Ywe Hao's, weren't you? You helped her when those men came, didn't you?'

He saw how the younger of the two, Lao, looked at his cousin before he nodded.

‘Good. You probably saved her life.'

He saw how they looked down at that; how, again, they glanced at each other, still not sure what this was all about.

‘She must have been a very good friend for you to do that for her, Yi-lung. Why was that? How did you come to be friends?'

Yi-lung kept his head lowered. ‘She was kind to us,' he mumbled, the words offered reluctantly.

‘Kind?' Chen gave a soft laugh, recalling what Karr had said about the guard, Leyden, and how she had probably spared his life. ‘Yes, I can imagine that. But how did you meet her?'

No answer. He tried another tack.

‘That's a nice machine she's got. A MedRes Network-6. I'd like one like that, wouldn't you? A top-of-the-range machine. It was strange, though. She was using it to record news items.'

‘That was our project,' the younger boy, Lao, said, without thinking, then fell quiet again.

‘Your project? For school, you mean?'

Both boys nodded. Yi-lung spoke for them. ‘She was helping us with it. She always did. She took the time. Not like the rest of them. Any time we had a problem we could go to her.'

Chen took a deep breath. ‘And that's why you liked her?'

Both boys were looking at him now, a strange earnestness in their young faces.

‘She was funny,' Lao said reflectively. ‘It wasn't all work with her. She made it fun. Turned it all into a game. We learned a lot from her, but she wasn't like the teachers.'

‘That's right,' Yi-lung offered, warming to things. ‘They made everything seem dull and grey, but she brought it all alive for us. She made it all make sense.'

‘Sense?' Chen felt a slight tightening in his stomach. ‘How do you mean, Yi-lung? What kind of things did she say to you?'

Yi-lung looked down, as if he sensed there was some deeper purpose
behind Chen's question. ‘Nothing,' he said evasively.

‘Nothing?' Chen laughed, letting go, knowing he would get nothing if he pushed. ‘Look, I'm just interested, that's all. Ywe Hao's gone missing and we'd like to find her. To help her. If we can find out what kind of woman she was…'

‘Are you tracking her down?'

Chen studied the two a moment, then leaned forward, deciding to take them into his confidence. ‘Ywe Hao's in trouble. Those men who came tried to kill her, but she got away. So, yes, Kung Lao, we have to find her. Have to track her down, if that's how you want to put it. But the more we know – the more good things we know about her – the better it will be for her. That's why you have to tell me all you can about her. To help her.'

Lao looked at his cousin, then nodded. ‘Okay. We'll tell you. But you must promise, Captain Kao. Promise that once you find her you'll help her all you can.'

He looked back at the two boys, momentarily seeing something of his own sons in them, then nodded. ‘I promise. All right? Now tell me. When did you first meet Ywe Hao, and how did you come to be friends?'

The maintenance room was empty, the hatch on the back wall locked, the warning light beside it glowing red in the half-light. Karr crouched down, squeezing through the low doorway, then stood there, perfectly still, listening, sniffing the air. There was the faintest scent of sweat. And something else… something he didn't recognize. He went across, putting his ear against the hatch. Nothing. Or almost nothing. There was a faint hum – a low, pulsing vibration.