Wingrove, David - Chung Kuo 02 (45 page)

He nodded
enthusiastically. "It's
good.
Your grandmother was a
clever woman, and you, my love, are an excellent cook."

She looked down,
smiling. "My husband is too kind."

He was still a
moment, watching her, astonished for the hundredth time by the
fragile beauty of her; then he began to eat again, realizing with a
laugh just how hungry he had been.

"Is there
anything else, husband? Anything I could get for you?"

He lowered the
bowl, smiling at her. "No. But that reminds me. There is
something I must do. One small thing, then the rest of the day is
free. We could go riding if you like."

She looked back
at him, her eyes bright. "I'd like that."

"Good. Then
I'll call Nan Ho—"

Uncharacteristically,
she interrupted him. "Forgive me husband, but that is not
possible."

"Not
possible?" Li Yuan frowned, then gave a short laugh. "I
don't understand you."

She lowered her
head, making herself small, submissive. "I am afraid I had to
dismiss Master Nan. He—"

"Dismiss
him?" Li Yuan put the bowl aside and stood, looking down at
her. "Do I hear you rightly, Fei Yen? You have dismissed my
Master of the Inner Chamber?"

"I had to,
my Lord."

He shook his
head, then looked away, past her. "Tell me. Why did you dismiss
him? What did he do?"

She glanced up
at him, then bowed her head again. "My Lord will be angry with
me."

He looked back
at her. "Have I reason, then, to be angry with you?"

She looked up,
meeting his eyes, her own dewed with tears. He hardened himself
against the sight of her; even so, he felt himself moved. He had
never seen her as beautiful as at that moment.

"I am your
wife, my Prince. Did I not have good reason to be angry with the
man?"

He laughed,
utterly confused now. "Fei Yen . . . talk sense. I don't follow
what you're saying."

She looked down,
swallowing, a sudden bleakness in her face that tore at his heart.
"The girls. . . Nan Ho had brought girls..." A shudder
passed through her. "Girls for your bed . . ."

He took a long
breath. So—she had misunderstood him. "Forgive me, my
love, but you have no reason to be angry with Nan Ho. It was not his
doing. I asked him to bring those girls here. That was the thing I
had to do."

"And that
makes it better?" Her voice was broken, anguished. "How
could you, Yuan? Am I not a good wife to you? Do I deny you
anything?" She looked up at him, the hurt in her eyes almost too
much for him. When she spoke again, her voice was a mere whisper. "Or
have you tired of me already?"

He was shaking
his head. "No . . . never. But you mistake me—"

"Mistake
you?" Sudden anger flared in her eyes. "You bring those
girls here— girls who have shared your bed—and say I have
mistaken you."

"Fei Yen—"

"Then deny
it! Look me in the eyes, husband, and deny that you haven't
had
them?"

He shivered. "It
wasn't like that. I ..."

But his
hesitation was enough for her. She tucked her head down bitterly, her
hands pulling anxiously at the lap of her dress, then stood angrily.

"Fei Yen!
You must believe me . . ."

She glared at
him.
"Believe
you?"

He bristled,
suddenly angered that she could think this of him, after all he had
done to purify himself for her. Hadn't he cast the maids off? Hadn't
he denied himself the pleasures of their company this last year? He
shuddered. "You had no business dismissing Master Nan! Who comes
or goes in these rooms is
my
business, not yours!"

She turned away,
suddenly very still. Her voice changed; became smaller and yet harder
than before. "Then let a thousand singsong girls come. Let
them
be wives to you. But not Fei Yen . . ."

He went to her,
taking her shoulders gently, wanting, despite his anger, to make
things right between them; but she shrugged him off, turning
violently to confront him, the fury in her eyes making him take a
step back from her.

"What kind
of a woman do you think I am, Li Yuan? Do you think me like them? Do
you think I have no pride?" She drew herself up straighter. "Am
I not the wife of a great Prince?"

"You know
what you are, Fei Yen!"

"No. I only
know what you would have me be."

He began to
answer her, but she shook her head dismissively, her eyes boring into
him. "I tried hard, Li Yuan. Tried to dispel my doubts and tell
myself it was Nan Ho. I tried to be loving to you. To be a good wife
in every way. And how did you repay me? By cheating on me. By
bringing in those
whores
behind my back."

He felt
something snap in him. This was too much. To call his girls whores.
Even so, he answered her quietly.

"Be careful
what you say, Fei Yen. Those girls were my maids. They took good care
of me in my childhood. I have a great affection for them."

She laughed
scornfully. "Whores—"

His bark of
anger made her jump. "Hold your tongue, woman!"

He stood there
commandingly, suddenly very different: all childishness, all
concession gone from him. He was shouting now. "It is not your
place to criticize me. I have done nothing wrong. Understand me?
Nothing! But you . . ." He shivered with indignation. "To
have the audacity to dismiss Master Nan . . . Who in hell's name do
you think you are?"

She did not
answer. But her eyes glared back at him, their look wild and
dangerous.

"Nan Ho
stays, understand me? And I shall see the girls, as that's my wish."

He saw a shudder
of pure rage ripple through her and felt himself go cold inside. Her
face seemed suddenly quite ugly—her lips too thin, her nose too
brittle, her perfect brow furrowed with lines of anger. It was as if
she were suddenly bewitched, her words spitting back at him through a
mask of hatred.

"If that's
your wish, so be it. But do not expect me in your bed, Prince Yuan.
Not tonight. Nor any other night."

His laughter was
harsh; a bitter, broken sound; the antithesis of laughter.

"So be it."

He turned and
stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him as he went, his
departing footsteps echoing, unrelenting, on the marble tiles.

* *
*

DEVORE WAS
PRESSED up against the wall, Gesell's knife at his throat. "Give
me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

DeVore stared
back at Gesell, a vague, almost lazy sense of distaste in his eyes.

"Because I
don't know what you're talking about."

"You lying
bastard. You killed those two men. You must have. You were the only
one outside the Central Committee who knew what they were doing. Only
you knew how crucial they were to our plans."

There was a
movement behind Gesell.

"Not the
only one ..."

Gesell turned.
Mach had come in silently. He stood there, watching them. Ascher
crossed the room, confronting him, her anger, if anything, more
pronounced than Gesell's.

"I say we
kill him. He's betrayed us. Spat on us."

Mach shook his
head. "He's done nothing. Let him go."

"No!"
Gesell twisted DeVore's collar tighter. "Emilys right. We can't
trust him after this."

Mach pushed past
the woman. "For the gods' sakes, let him go, Bent. Don't you
understand? I killed them."

Gesell laughed
uncertainly. "You?"

Mach took the
knife from Gesell's hand and sheathed it, then removed his hand from
DeVore's collar. Only then did he turn and look at DeVore, inclining
his head slightly.

"I
apologize, Shift Turner. You must excuse my brother. He did not
know."

"Of
course." DeVore stretched his neck slightly, loosening the
muscles there.

Gesell rounded
on Mach. "Well? What the hell's been happening?"

"I'm sorry,
Bent. I had no time to warn you. Besides, I wasn't sure. Not until
I'd checked."

"Sure of
what?"

"They were
Security. Both of them. They must have been sleepers. Records show
they left Security five years ago—a year before they joined
us."

A slight
tightening about DeVore's eyes was the only sign that he was
interested, but none of the others in the room noticed it, nor the
way he rubbed at his wrist, as if relieving an itch there; they were
watching Mach, horrified by this new development.

"Security .
. ." Gesell hissed through his teeth. "Gods ..."

"There are
others, too. Three more. In two separate cells."

"You made
checks?"

Mach nodded.
"I'm keeping tabs on them. They'll hear what happened. I want to
see what they'll do, whether they'll sit tight or run. If they run I
want them. Alive, if possible. I want to find out what they're up
to."

Ascher was
shaking her head. "It doesn't make sense. If they had their men
inside our organization, why didn't they act in response to
Helmstadt?"

Mach glanced at
DeVore, conscious of how much he was giving away simply by talking in
front of him; but he'd had no choice. If Gesell had killed Turner,
they'd have been back to square one. Or worse; they might have found
themselves in a tit-for-tat war with Turner's lieutenants. It was
almost certain that the man had given orders to that effect before he
came here at Gesell's summons.

Mach turned,
facing Ascher. "I thought of that. But that's how it works
sometimes. They're ordered to sit tight until the thing's big enough
and ripe enough to be taken. They obviously thought that Helmstadt
was worth sacrificing."

"Or that
you wouldn't succeed . . ." DeVore said.

Mach looked back
at him again. "Maybe . . ."

The three men
had been an advance squad; trained technicians. Their job had been to
locate the communications nerve-centers surrounding Bremen. It was a
delicate, sensitive job, one upon which the success or failure of the
whole attack depended. The idea was for them to place special devices
at these
loci
—devices that the regular maintenance crews
would think were innocuous parts of the complex of delicate wiring.
The devices would sit there, unused, for months, until the day when
the
Ping Tiao
launched their attack. Then they would be
triggered and Bremen would suffer a massive communications blackout.

That had been
the plan. But now things were in chaos.

Gesell looked
down. "Do you think they've passed on what they knew?"

Mach shrugged,
his expression bitter. Even killing them had not appeased his anger.
"I don't know. I hoped to keep one of them alive for
questioning, but they fought hard. It was as if they'd been ordered
not to be taken alive."

"That's
so." Again DeVore entered the conversation. He moved closer.
"You should take one of them now, before they hear of it."

Ascher nodded.
"I think he's right. What if they take poison or something?"

Mach shivered,
then bowed his head. "Okay. We'll take them now. But if it's
like it was with the others, it won't be easy."

DeVore narrowed
his eyes, studying Mach. His respect for the man had grown
enormously. Matton and Tucker had been two of his best men, not
merely good at their task of infiltrating the
Ping Tiao,
but
good fighters, too. He was sorry to lose them. Sorry, too, to have
had his network of spies uncovered, his eye among the
Ping Tiao
blinded. Now he would have to depend upon cruder means—on
bribery and blackmail. Unsatisfactory means.

"Concentrate
on just one of them," he said, meeting Mach's eyes. "Take
him yourself. Then bind him tightly, so there's no chance of him
harming himself. After that you should do things slowly. Time, that's
all it needs. Time will break the spirit of any man. Then you'll find
out what you want to know."

Mach stared back
at him steadily. "You've done this?"

DeVore nodded.
"Many times."

"Then I'll
do as you say."

DeVore smiled.
"Good." But it would be too late. As soon as Mach had
revealed what he had done, DeVore had pressed the tiny panel at his
wrist, opening the channel that switched everything he was saying
direct into the heads of his three surviving agents. Already his men
would have heard his words and taken the appropriate action.

"And if we
discover nothing?" Gesell asked, looking directly at DeVore.

"Then we
continue. We must assume now that they know about our plan to attack
Bremen, but not when or where we will strike. Nor
how
precisely.
Meanwhile it would profit us to seem to change our plans. To look for
other targets. And let them know . . ."

Mach looked up
again, smiling for the first time since he had entered the room. "I
like that. A diversion . . ."

DeVore nodded
and smiled back at him. "What does Sun Tzu say? 'The crux of
military operations lies in the pretense of accommodating oneself to
the designs of the enemy.' Well, we shall seem to back off, as if
discovered; but in reality we shall continue with our scheme. If they
know nothing of our plans, then no harm has been done today. And even
if they do know, they'll not expect us to pursue it after this, neh?"

Mach studied him
thoughtfully a moment, then nodded. "Yes. But I must go. Before
they hear . . ."

* *
*

HAAVIKKO CLOSED
the door behind him then gave a small shudder, staring at the tiny
slip of plastic in his hand. His senior officer had been only too
glad to approve his new posting. From Major Erickson's viewpoint it
must have seemed a blessing to be rid of him. He had been nothing but
trouble for the Major. But now he was Karr's man, part of his special
services unit. Still a lieutenant, but with a future now. And a
friend.

He was meeting
Kao Chen in two hours, but first there was one more thing to sort
out. His sister, Vesa.