The Marriage of the Living Dark

“The faces in the ice ... where you drew the line”

“Ah...” Li Yuan shook his head. “You have to understand. It was hard. Very hard. We were riding the tiger. Each day brought new and greater troubles. Tsu Ma, Wei Feng and I, we tried. I swear we tried. But sometimes it was easier to lie TO NINEVEH between a woman’s legs - to seek oblivion there - than face the problems of the day.”

“You wanted something certain and unchanging, didn’t you? You wanted that eternal summer moment in the orchard with your brother. And what did you get? You got Change. Endless Change.”

Li Yuan’s face creased with pain. “It was so ...” “Yes, but you were weak, Li Yuan. You could have been a beacon to men. Instead you hid your light and sought refuge far too often in that sweet and scented darkness.”

“Perhaps.”

Tuan Ti Fo sighed. “Such weakness in a man is understandable, but in an emperor ... In an emperor it is fatal.”

Again Yuan’s eyes flared. “I did not choose ...” “To be T’ang? No. And yet you were. You were their father, Li Yuan. You were responsible for them. They were clay, to be moulded to your will, for good or ill. Such power you had.”

“And now here I am, neh?” Li Yuan looked about him, a bleakness in his eyes.

Such is the fate of kings.”

“Do you still wish to be a king?”

“No.”

“Then you would be an ordinary man?”

Li Yuan looked up. “Is it possible?”

Terhaps.”

“And afterwards?”

“Afterwards, you may go.”

“Go?”

“Back to your sons. But first you must be changed.”

“Changed? How changed?”

But Tuan Ti Fo merely smiled. “Rest now, Li Yuan. The dawn is coming. Tomorrow you will be taken from here.”

“To Nineveh?”

“Yes. To Nineveh.”

As they came from the hall and stepped out into the narrow, half-lit corridor, Kuei Jen paused and, reaching out to touch Egan’s arm, put a finger to his lips. Not yards away, the tasterswere sitting in their room, beneath the glare of an overhead light, laughing and talking among themselves. It had been a good night for them: no one had died. Indeed, not a single case of poisoning had been reported.

“We live in paranoid times,” Kuei Jen whispered, pulling him on past the door, before they were noticed by the men within.

Not that it was any different in my father’s court, Kuei Jen mused. But there it had been a matter of long habit Here, one’s personal survival depended almost entirely upon taking such precautions.

Kuei Jen looked to his husband as they stepped out into the end hallway. Mark Egan was half-drunk. The shock of seeing his grandfather in a new young body - a body younger and stronger than his own - had been too much for him. Indeed, had Kuei Jen not been there to intercede between the two, it could quite easily have come to blows.

As it was, things were bad. Despite Kuei Jen’s best efforts, he had not been able to reconcile the two men. Mark Egan had, in reality, considered his grandfather a dead man - no more alive than a programmed hologram of some long-dead ancestor -and he saw this new Josiah Egan as little more than an imposter. Whereas Josiah ...

Josiah wanted it all back. He hadn’t said as much explicitly, but she had seen it in his eyes. He wanted to be the power once again. To rule America, yes, and his grandson too.

It could not have happened at a worse time.

Their private rooms were on the far side of the pillared hallway. Yet even as Kuei Jen made his way across, walking slowly, supporting Egan and keeping him from falling, a man stepped from the shadows to their right Fearing he was an assassin, Kuei Jen pushed Egan away and stepped towards the man, crouched down, knife drawn. Then he straightened, seeing who it was. “Colonel Chalker! What are you doing here at this hour?” To Kuei Jen’s surprise, Chalker fell to his knees and, bowing his head toward Egan, offered his dagger, pommel first “What is this?” Egan said, stepping forward, his speech slurred. “Chalker, explain yourself!”

“If s Horton, sir. He’s gone.”

“Horton?”

The events of the latter part of the evening had clearly driven the memory of Horton’s capture from Egan’s mind. He frowned, then shook his head. “Sprung, sir, from the cells. I have the culprits. I’ve racked them. They were working for him. It seems he took a cruiser from the roof...” “Gone?” Egan said again. “Gone where?”

“West,” Kuei Jen said, before Chalker could answer. “Coover’s behind this, right, Colonel?”

“That is so,” Chalker said. His head was still lowered, the dagger still held out Egan waved at the dagger. “Put that thing away, Alan...” “But I failed you, sir.”

“You heard my husband,” Kuei Jen said, surprised by this display of loyalty and honour from a man he had previously thought of only as cruel and ambitious. “We have need of every loyal officer, and there is no more loyal a man than you, my friend. Now answer... is there any chance of catching Horton?” Chalker put away his dagger, then stood, raising his head. “I fear not.” “And his friends?” Egan asked, the situation sobering him more effectively than a gallon jug of coffee.

“Fled, sir. We had three dozen names. Of those we shall be lucky if we take five.”

“I see.” Young Egan looked to his wife. “Li Kuei Jen, what do you make of this?” “In one way it is good, for it clarifies things. Yet word will get out. To lose so many prominent citizens at a stroke will create gaps. People will talk They will ask questions.”

“Then tell them the truth,” Chalker said. “Tell them that the Sons were traitors to America and planned to sell us to the highest bidder!” Kuei Jen stared at the Colonel of Internal Security, a new respect for the man filling her. “I think that’s a good idea, Colonel Chalker. A very good idea indeed.”

Alone in the cabin of the cruiser, Horton let his head fall back and shut his eyes, the vibration of the craffs engines lulling him. For a moment, back there, he had thought it was the end. When Chalker had smiled at him that way, his blood had frozen. But here he was, safe, and Chalker ... One day, he promised himself, he would have Chalker; he would strap him down on a butcher’s block and make him babble like a frightened child. Coover. Yes, he was Coover’s man now, like it or not.

“Feng?”

His eyes flicked open. “Russ? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Russ took the seat facing Horton, then smiled. “What, no thank you?”

Horton sat forward, piecing it together. “So it was you.” “Of course. I couldn’t let Chalker have your arse, could I? Not when if s such a nice arse.”

Horton swallowed, dismayed by this turn about Fucking Russ had been one thing, being in his debt was another. In fact, he didn’t like the thought of it at all. ‘Then I have much to thank you for,” he said, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“I’ll not forget what you did.”

Russ’s smile broadened. “And I’ll not let you.” And, leaning across, he placed his hand over Horton’s groin. “Until later, eh?”

Old Man Egan pushed open the door and stomped across the room, kicking a footstool out of his path. Throwing himself down into a chair, he scowled at the two men who stood in the open doorway.

“Do you want something, Josiah?” Bernadini asked. “His miserable neck!” Egan answered, his old man’s whine unmistakable, even from his new voice box. “Fancy keeping me waiting like that! His own grandfather! The nerve of the boy!”

“It must have been a shock for him,” Advocate Richards said, trying to calm the old man, but Egan would not be calmed.

TO NINEVEH

“Shock! I’d give him a fucking shock!” He made a face of purest disgust. “And that wife of his! Wife! Don’t make me fucking laugh! Some half-man fucking Chink, that1 s all it is! How could he! I’d as soon poke a fucking pig!” Bernadini looked to Richards, exchanging a meaningful glance, then he stepped across to Egan. “Are you sure I can’t I get you something, Josiah? To help you sleep, I mean.”

“You can bring me a couple of girls. Young ones. Fourteen, fifteen. No older.

And then you can leave me be.”

Bernadini swallowed, then glanced round at Richards. Richards nodded, then vanished to do his Master’s bidding. Bernadini turned back to Egan, then knelt “You need to take things a bit more slowly, Josiah. You can’t tread on toes the way you used to. It won’t work.”

Egan scowled again. “Why not?”

“You’ve been out of things a while, thaf s why. Things have .. . changed. You need to grow accustomed to how things are now. Then make your move.” But Egan waved that aside impatiently. “I’ve no time for all that shit You saw him tonight. He’ll do anything to shut me out. Anything. And I won’t be shut out I want power. And I want it now. Not later, when if s too late, when I grow old again. I want it right now, when I can best use it” He stood, then ripped open his shirt, to show the powerful chest of his new host body.

“That’s why I had you do this, Bernadini. Not so I could enter some body beautiful competition, but so that I could grab back whaf s mine by rights. This country’s mine. I made it And I’ll fucking well have it back, whether my grandson wants it or not” Bernadini knew his history and knew that what Old Man Egan said wasn’t strictly true, but the old man was not to be denied in this mood. He smiled and placed a hand on Egan’s arm.

“Okay. I understand. But lefs do things a step at a time. Lef s make sure, huh?

Brain as well as brawn. That was always your way, right?” Egan took that in a moment, then nodded, a self-satisfied smile coming to his lips. “Right.””Then don’t be hasty. Your grandson will come to you, when he’s had time to recover from the shock of seeing you like this. And when he does, be a friend to him, Josiah. Be a good friend. And bide your time. For your time will come, I promise you. And then you will be king again. King of America.”

Bernadini stood at the monitor, watching as Old Man Egan had the two girls strip and kneel before him. Then, unfastening himself, he had them take turns at sucking him off, before finally lifting up the younger girl and throwing her down on the bed. Ignoring her screams, he took her brutally from behind. A king you might be, Bernadini thought, wincing at the sight, but you’re a barbarian, and no match for your grandson.

Even so, he had to win, by hook or crook, for if he lost then all those who had helped him would lose too.

And that means me.

Indeed, if he was Mark Egan, he would be talking to the assassins even at this moment He turned, looking to the Advocate. “Jim. Hire more guards. People we can trust And let no one into the inner sanctum without my word, okay?” “You think the grandson will try something?”

Bernadini nodded. “He’d be stupid not to, wouldn’t you say?”

“You don’t think they can come to some kind of arrangement, then?”

“To share power?”

Richards shrugged. “I guess not.” He was thoughtful a moment, then he looked up again. “You know, it surprised me tonight I thought ... I thought it would be different from how it was. I thought they’d maybe greet each other. I mean, the boy was always so respectful when he visited him.” “When he was effectively dead, you mean?”

Richards nodded. Then, “What did you think would happen?” Bernadini turned and looked across. “I don’t know. I thought maybe it would be enough for him, being young again. All the rest...” He shook his head. “I didn’t think it through, did I? Power. That’s all that ever drove him. Why should a new body change that?”

For a moment the two men watched the old boy as he spasmed and came into the first girl. Then, his penis still rigid, Egan withdrew and, pushing the girl roughly aside, turned and, reaching out, grasped the other by the wrist, dragging her, terrified, over to the bed.

“Which leaves only one option, wouldn’t you say?”

Richards swallowed audibly. “War?”

Bernadini nodded, his eyes glued now to the screen as Egan began again, insatiable in his need to dominate.

Yes, war. And civH wars are always the most bloody kind of all.

It was three in the morning and Kuei Jen was finally about to retire, when his husband’s Master of the Bedchamber came to his room. “Forgive me, Mistress, but your husband asks if you would attend to him.” Kuei Jen looked at him, surprised. It was more than a year since he had been to his husband’s bed. Not since they had argued.

“I need a while to prepare myself,” he answered. “But tell my husband I shall come.”

When the man had gone, he went over to the mirror and looked at himself. As a man he had never liked his figure, had thought himself too slim, too boyish; as a woman he admired his own curves, the much fuller look of his hips and breasts. But Mark, she knew, had liked him as he was. Had liked him, before the change.

That was part of it Why they had quarrelled. For he had taken others to his bed. Not women. No, nothing so simple. But other men. Soldiers. Campaigners, like himself.

But now he had changed his mind. Now, after all this time, Mark had summoned him again, woman as he was.

Kuei Jen went across and, stripping down to almost nothing, chose something simple, something ... masculine. It was time to be a man again. Time to be a brother as well as a wife.

He looked across, meeting his own eyes in the mirror. Was that what Mark had responded to? The memory of what he once was? The decisiveness? The aggressive masculinity that, despite all, still resided in him. If so, he would use it. To rebuild the bridges that had been burned between them. For his children’s and his father’s sake. Yes. And for my own. For I stM love him. In spite of all.