Beneath the Tree of Heaven

CHAPTER TWENTY

Beneath the Tree of Heaven

Li yuan stood back, watching the medical cruiser lift from the cratered field, then turned, facing Nan Ho and Tolonen. In the background the Palace was a hive of activity. Two whole battalions had been flown in and were digging in around the perimeter, setting up their batteries to bolster the Palace’s own defenses. If another attack came they would be ready for it.

“The news is bad,” Nan Ho said, without preamble. “Wei Hsi Wang is dead, shot in the back by one of his own guards, and Hou Tung-po’s family also. A single bomb took care of them.”

Li Yuan swallowed. “Then it is just the three of us now. Tsu Ma, Wei Tseng-li, and I.” He half turned as the medical cruiser swept overhead. Tsu Ma was on board, being ferried to the special unit in Pei Ch’ing where, it was hoped, they could save his foot. “And my City?” he asked, looking to Tolonen. “Rheinhardt is in charge, Chieh Hsia. The curfew is in force and—so far, anyway—things are very quiet.”

“That is so, Chieh Hsia,” Nan Ho added, glancing briefly at Tolonen, “but how long will that last? Think of how it must look. The transmissions were cut abruptly and no explanation has been given. They will fear the worst. They will be afraid, Chieh Hsia, in shock. They will be wondering what is to happen. We must seize the moment and act, before their shock turns to anger and their anger to revolt.”

“And you, Knut? Is this how you feel?”

“It is, Chieh Hsia.” He sniffed. “However, we must be careful how we act.”

“Careful?” Li Yuan was almost amused. “Is this the Marshal Tolonen I know?

Are you really counseling caution, Knut? What’s brought this on?” Tolonen gave a gruff laugh. “I know how it must look, Chieh Hsia, but hear me out. I have given this matter much thought these past few hours.” “Then speak, but let us make our way back inside, neh? There is something I must see to.”

The three turned and began to walk back to the Palace, Tolonen to Li Yuan’s left, Nan Ho to his right.

“Tactically things are far from straightforward, Chieh Hsia,” Tolonen continued. “The Sickness and its aftermath have complicated the matter greatly. Things are unstable and the pressures on our Security forces are great. Indeed, your cousin Wu Shih’s City fell under far less pressure. We are stretched thin. Any thinner and we might just melt away.” Li Yuan nodded. “And then there’s Li Min. . . .” He looked to Nan Ho.

“Have we heard anything from our ‘loyal subject’?”

“Nothing, Chieh Hsia. It seems he bides his time.” “Like a mantis, neh?” He huffed out a sigh. “I should have dealt with him when I could, Nantes or no. I should have reached out and crushed that insect then.”

Tolonen, who, he knew, had strong opinions on the subject, said nothing, merely lowered his head slightly. “We cannot fight a war on three fronts, Chieh Hsia,” he said, after a moment, “which is why we must take great care to assess just what action is appropriate. Maybe if we could foster rebellion in his City ...”

Li Yuan looked to Tolonen, seeing how grim his face was. “And how long would that take?”

“It’s hard to say. . . . They hate the bastard, certainly, but they also fear him. He has taken ruthless measures to stamp out sedition in his City. I am told he has executed more than fifty thousand these past two months alone.”

“So I have heard. Nonetheless, it might be worth a try, neh?” Nan Ho cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Chieh Hsia, but I would counsel most strongly against such action. Revolt is easy to incite, hard to put down. If it should spread to our own City . . . why, our current problems would be as nothing. Besides, there is the matter of whether we wish to keep control of City Africa, or whether we are prepared to let it go the way of North America. Once lost it would be hard to regain. It could be ... well, generations.”

Li Yuan nodded, sobered by Nan Ho’s words. They had come to the small lawn in front of the steps. Li Yuan stopped, looking at his Chancellor. “Then what do you counsel, Master Nan?”

“War, Chieh Hsia. An all-out war against your cousin Wang.” He laughed, surprised. “It is a strange day, neh? First Knut here counsels caution, and now you, my most cautious Chancellor, tell me to go to war.” “For good reasons, Chieh Hsia. As Knut says, we cannot fight a war on three fronts. Then again, perhaps there is no need. If it were to be made widely known what your cousin did today, most men would feel a sense of outrage at the cowardly act. Their instinct would be to hit back against the perpetrator, especially when he is as physically odious as Wang Sau-leyan.”

“Maybe so. But can we be so certain that we still hold the sympathies of the masses? Might they not see this as an opportunity to throw off the rule of Seven? I read your reports, Master Nan, and they are not encouraging. Our support is badly eroded in the Lowers and to take such a risk...”

“There is risk however we act. Our task is to minimize that risk. But hear me further, Chieh Hsia. It is not enough, I feel, simply to win the people’s sympathies. Such winds of feeling are fickle and blow briefly. We must actively involve them in our venture.” “Involve them?” Tolonen frowned deeply. “I do not understand?”

“I mean an army, Chieh Hsia. We must recruit an army from the people.” “Impossible!” Tolonen said, offended, it seemed, by the suggestion. “You cannot turn that rabble into an army!”

“Forgive me, Knut, but you miss my point. Our purpose would not be to create an efficient fighting force overnight, but to channel all of the aggression which exists in the Lowers of our City. To focus it outward, rather than against ourselves.”

Tolonen grunted. “Even so—“

“No, Knut,” Li Yuan interrupted. “I like the sound of this. But there are problems, neh, Master Nan? Once such a force exists, who then controls it? And once—should we say if—the threat of Wang Sau-leyan is dealt with, where do we focus that aggression next?”

“Against Li Min. ...”

Li Yuan smiled. “Ah ...”

He turned and began climbing the broad sweep of marbled steps, Tolonen and Nan Ho hurrying to catch up with him.

“Well, Chieh Hsia?” Nan,Ho asked breathlessly as he reached the top. Li Yuan turned back, looking out past his Chancellor, his eyes taking in the damage that had been done to the Southern Lawn. “It is a big step, Master Nan. An irrevocable step, it seems to me. It would not do to rush into such a venture.”

“Time presses, Chieh Hsia.”

“I know,” he answered solemnly. “And yet I must be clear. When finally I act, it must be without doubts. I must know how I am to act and why.” He put a hand up to his chin. Then, abruptly it seemed, he laughed. “He almost did it! You realize that? The bastard almost pulled it off!” He turned, looking directly at his Chancellor. “Master Nan . . . contact Ben Shepherd. Tell him—tell him I need to talk.” Nan Ho bowed. “I spoke to him earlier, Chieh Hsia. He is on his way.”

Li Yuan smiled. “And the war, Master Nan? Do you know also how that ends?”

“The war, Chieh Hsia? No. Only that it must be.”

wang sau-leyan put out a fleshy hand, letting himself be helped up out of the great sunken bath, three of his maids half in the water as they strained to lift him. Nearby, a fourth looked on, a huge pile of golden towels in her arms.

As they steered him up the marble steps, there was an urgent knocking at the door.

“See who it is,” he said to one of the maids, waving her across. “But don’t let them in. Not until I’m ready.”

He sat heavily on the couch, spreading his legs, getting his breath back after the exertion, then looked down at himself. His flesh was almost pink from the heat of the water, fold upon fold of pinkness. He laughed, lifting his arms, letting the maids begin their task of drying him. “You like what you see?” he said to one of the maids, knowing, as ever, that she would lie to him. For who would tell the truth to a T’ang? Who would dare say, “I find you gross and loathsome”? Not one of these sweet young things, anyway.

“My Master glows like a newborn,” she answe’red, smiling up at him as if she loved him.

A good answer, he thought, for I feel newborn today. He smiled and patted her, then turned, looking across to the doorway where the maid was having a low but urgent conversation. “Who is it?” he called to her. And what do they want? he might have added, but he knew what they wanted. For the past three hours they had wanted nothing more than to talk to him.

“It is Chancellor Hung, Chieh Hsia. He says he wishes to speak with you.” Wang smiled, then turned back, closing his eyes, enjoying the gentle ministrations of his maids.

“Tell him I’ll come. In an-hour.”

He laughed softly, knowing how Hung Mien-lo would rage inwardly at that.

Maybe he’ll even call me names, or try to have me killed. .. again.

Transparent. . . they were all so transparent. “Oh, and tell him to meet me in the Great Hall,” he added, tilting his head back slightly. “And tell him to dress formally.”

“sit down, major rao. We need to talk.” Chen bowed, then sat, facing General Rheinhardt. The General paused, studying the report, then fixed Chen with a stare. His manner was cold, formal—a side of him Chen had guessed at but never seen. He cleared his throat, then launched in. “Now, let me say straight off that the last thing I needed just now was for one of my senior staff officers to go haywire in the Lowers. Apart from the effect it has on the reputation of the service, there’s the matter of maintaining discipline throughout the ranks. It’s a question of example. If the men see one of their senior officers acting irresponsibly, then they begin to ask themselves why they should act responsibly. And when that happens ...”

Rheinhardt shook his head slowly and sat back, looking at Chen as he might look at an errant child, with a mixture of sternness and regret. “You were never the ideal appointee, Kao Chen. Your service record was good, up to a point, but your social record left much to be desired. It’s not enough for an officer merely to do his duty, he has to fill a social role. It would have been better for you if you were more like ...” Rheinhardt fished for a name.

“Like Hans Ebert, perhaps, sir?”

Rheinhardt bristled. “There is no need to add impertinence to the list of your sins, Major Kao!” He visibly stiffened in his chair. “Now, to the matter at hand. The death of the Wu . . . Chang Te Li.” “I spit on his ancestors!”

Rheinhardt looked at Chen, astonished. “You what?” “He was a bastard, sir. An evil man who terrified those about him. I’ve no remorse for killing him. What he did to those children—“ Rheinhardt raised a hand. At once Chen fell silent, lowering his eyes. “It seems we have two choices,” Rheinhardt said after a moment. “I can either demote you to the rank of Captain, with the ensuing loss of face that such a step would bring, or you can choose to leave the service.” In answer Chen reached into his tunic pocket and took out a folded note, handing it across. Rheinhardt took it and read it. He nodded, as if satisfied, and was about to put it away in the file when a detail caught his attention.

“But this is dated the day before yesterday, Major Kao.”

Chen met his eyes. “I had already decided, sir.”

Rheinhardt stared at him a moment, his eyes narrowed. “And your decision?

Did it affect how you behaved down there?” Chen thought, then shrugged. “It may have, sir. I don’t know. But I’ve been unhappy in the service a long time now. As for the Wu, he was a confessed child murderer and I executed him. It wasn’t my job. I know that. But I’ll live with the consequences.” Rheinhardt nodded. “I won’t be a hypocrite, Kao Chen, and say I’ll miss you. You were never one to contribute much to briefings, and your paperwork . . . well, to say it was tardy was an understatement. Even so, I wish you the best. Have you thought about what you’ll be doing?” “I plan to take my family onto the Plantations, sir.”

“The Plantations?” Rheinhardt raised an eyebrow. “The gods help us ...

You’re sure about this?”

Chen nodded.

“You realize what has been happening?”

“I heard the reports on the way over. I understand the Plantations were relatively untouched.”

“That’s true. Though I’ve never fully understood why, when the rest of the City’s in total chaos, the Plantations remain calm. Perhaps it’s the kind of people they have there.”

Or the kind of life, Chen thought.

Rheinhardt took a long breath. “Well, Kao Chen. That’s it, it seems. I’ll have the official paperwork drawn up and send it through to you. You’ll keep your pension, though at a reduced level, and will be allowed to keep the honorary title of Captain. Otherwise . . . good luck.” Rheinhardt stood, offering his hand. Chen got to his feet, then leaned across the desk, returning the General’s firm handclasp. But the smile was formal, a gesture of the lips only. They had never really got on. “Thank you, sir,” Chen said, releasing his hand. He backed away two steps and came to attention, making a formal bow to a superior officer for the very last time. Then, turning about-face, he marched from the office.

“mary! mary! You must come out of there!” The door flew open. Mary Lever stood there, facing her husband. She was dressed to go out, her hair neatly combed, a small travel bag in one hand. He took a step back. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going, Michael. I’m leaving.”

He made a sound of disbelief. “But you can’t. I mean, it was nothing. Gloria and I ... we’re friends, that’s all. We’ve been friends since we were two, three years old. And there’s nothing more to it than that, I swear to you, Em. Why, I wouldn’t think—“ She shrugged. “I just have to, that’s all.” “But you can’t,” he said once more. “I won’t let you.”

“No?”

There was a movement of pained exasperation in his face—an expression that reminded her vividly of his father. “Look . . . can’t we talk this through? If you’re unhappy—“ “Unhappy?” She laughed sourly. “You don’t know, Michael. You just don’t know!”

“But I thought”—and now there was both pain and bewilderment in his face.

He looked down, like a scolded child—“I thought you loved me.”

She sighed. “I do. The gods know I do. But. . .” He met her eyes again, looking for reassurance. “Then why?” he asked. “If you love me, why do you have to go? Why can’t we work it through? It was just an argument, that’s all. Everyone has them. But it’s no reason to go, really it isn’t. I love you, Em. And if there’s something wrong—if there’s something you want to change . . . well, tell me. I’ll listen. And I’ll try. You know I’ll try.”

She stared at him, her face softening. Even so, she was determined. “It’s not you, Michael. Try and understand that. You’re a good man. You’ve turned out better than your breeding. But”—again she shrugged—“I guess it’s me. This life ... I wasn’t born to it.” He frowned. Still he didn’t understand. But was that so strange? He didn’t know her. And maybe he never would. Not in the way she wanted to be known. “I still love you, Michael, but it isn’t enough anymore.”

“Why?”

She shivered. Was there no way to avoid this? No way he’d simply stand back and let her go? She shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” “What? How can you say that? How the fuck can you say that?” It was the first time he had sworn at her. The first time, in fact, he had ever lost his temper with her. He lifted a hand in a gesture of apology. “Look ... I didn’t mean ...”

“No,” she said softly. “Nor I. You want to know why, eh?”

He nodded, his eyes still trying to fathom her.

She let the bag drop, then took a long breath. “It’s difficult. It’s . . .” She could feel the pain welling up inside her—could feel how tight the muscles in her face were—but she had come too far now to turn back. “It started years ago. . . .”

She saw his eyes widen and shook her head. “No, Michael. It’s not another man.”

No, she thought. Nothing so simple.

“It’s a ... feeling I have. A belief. It’s ... I guess it’s who I really am. Being with you, it was good, Michael. Never doubt that. Better than I’d ever dreamed it could be. But it wasn’t enough. All these years ...” She swallowed, all of the frustration suddenly there in her, focused in the fist she raised. “I denied myself and denied myself, until I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’d look in the mirror and wonder who the hell I was. The other night...”

She took a breath, controlling all the hurt she felt, all the unsatisfied anger. “The other night it came to a head. I looked out across that hall, then looked at myself, and I said, What the fuck are you doing? Who are youl Well. . . it’s time to find out. Time to take up where I left off.” She paused, willing him to understand. “I have to go down-level, Michael.”

“Down there?” He stared at her as if she was mad. “But you can’t.”

“Why not?” she said, more calmly than she felt. “It’s where I came from. .

. .”