The Middle Kingdom (35 page)

"Who could
have built this, Klaus? Who has the know-how?"

Ebert laughed
uncomfortably. "GenSyn. MedFac, maybe. No one else. At least, no
one on-planet."

The General
looked up sharply, "You think it's from outside, then? From one
of the colonies?"

Ebert dragged
his eyes away from the dead thing on the table, then turned his back
on it. "I don't know, Knut. Six months back I'd have said no,
but I've seen a few strange things since then. Controls are less
tight out there. The Edict has less force." He shook his head.
"The Seven should do something, Knut. Now. Before it's too
late."

"I know,"
the General said simply. But he was thinking of De Vore. If what the
kwai
Kao Chen had said were true it would explain much.

And Wyatt? He
pushed the thought away. Wyatt was guilty. There was the evidence.
Even so ...

Ebert was
looking at him, fear in his eyes. "What does this mean, Knut?
Why would they want to copy me? I don't understand."

The General
shuddered. Nor I, he thought, not fully, anyway, but now I'm
forearmed. We can rig up checkpoints. Scan for copies. Make sure
nothing like this gets into the Forbidden City.

There would be
more than a hundred thousand guests at the wedding. And not one of
them could be allowed to pass through without being tested. For if
just one of these . . . things got through, it might prove
disastrous.

He reached out
and took his old friend's arm. "I'm sorry, Klaus, but I think
they meant to substitute this thing for you at the wedding. It was
their way of getting at the T'ang."

"You mean
they meant to kill me, Knut?"

Tblonen met his
eyes. "I think so. They know how close you are to Li Shai Tung,
and this. . ." He hesitated, then looked away, shaking his head.
"Look, I don't know who's behind this, Klaus, but it couldn't
have come at a worse time."

"Or more
fortunate?"

Tolonen turned
back. "What do you mean?"

Ebert was
looking down at the replicant's left hand; at the ring on the second
finger with its insignia of two separated strands of DNA—an
exact co'py of his own. He looked back at Tolonen. "It just
seems odd, Knut, that's all. Odd how easily we caught this one. And
yet I can't believe they would want us to know about this. This"—he
pointed at the corpselike thing on the table—"It must have
cost . . . what? eighty, maybe a hundred million
yuan
to
build. And that's without the initial R-and-D costs. Why, there's
memory technology involved here that we haven't even begun to explore
at GenSyn. That alone would have cost them two or three hundred
million
yuan
minimum. And maybe three, four times that. They
wouldn't throw that away casually, would they?"

"No. I
suppose they wouldn't."

But Tolonen was
already thinking things through—aware of the huge
administrative nightmare this would create. They would have to set up
a network of gates in front of the Forbidden City. Secure rooms.
Thousands of them, specially equipped to check for fakes. And they
would need to rehearse more than twenty thousand stewards in the
subtle questions of etiquette and "face" involved.

The General
sighed, then tugged his uniform gloves tighter, aware that his craft
had been waiting twenty minutes now. He would have to leave soon if
he was to meet DeVore off the Mars shuttle. "This will cause a
great deal of bad feeling, Klaus. But you're right, it was fortunate.
And now we know these things exist we can't afford to take chances.
The lives of the Seven are at risk, and I'd offend every last man and
woman in the Above to protect the Seven."

Ebert laughed.
"I do believe you would, Knut Tolonen." Then he grew
serious. "But why now, Knut? Things are good, aren't they? We've
built a good world, haven't we? Why do they want to tear it down, eh?
Why?"

Tolonen looked
up and saw how Ebert was watching him. Saw how, in this, he was
looking to him for answers.

"Because
the cycle's ending, Klaus. I feel it in my bones. Change is coming."

Yes, he thought.
And things we thought true are no longer so.

He looked at the
dead thing on the table and thought of DeVore. At least this fake was
honest to itself. Was
buih
a fake. But men? Who was to say
what molded them for ill or good?

IT WAS JUST
after four in the morning and Nanking Port lay in darkness, a
loose-spaced ring of lights, five
li
from the central hub,
tracing the periphery of the vast apron.

Tolonen stood in
the topmost office of the towering Port Authority Building, the duty
Captain at attention before him.

"Gone? What
do you mean, he's gone?"

The young
Captain bowed deeply to the visiting General, his cheeks red with
embarrassment.

"He's not
aboard the ship, sir. When our men went to arrest him, he simply
wasn't there. And no one could say where he'd gone."

Tolonen shook
his head in disbelief.

"That's
impossible! How could he get off the ship? It's moored at the orbital
station isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well? He
was aboard only eight hours ago, wasn't he?"

"Yes, sir."

"So he's
either still aboard or on that station, no?"

"No, sir.
We've searched both ship and station thoroughly."

Tolonen's anger
exploded. "Incompetents! How could you let him get away from
you?" He snorted. "Where could he be, eh? Out there? In the
vacuum? No! Think, boy! He must be here. On Chung Kuo. But how did he
get here? Who brought him down?"

"Sir?"
The Captain was totally flustered now.

"What
service craft have visited the station in the past four hours? What
ships, besides your own, have left the station since the colony ship
docked?"

"None,
sir."

"None?
Surely—"

"We put a
cordon sanitaire about the station as soon as you instructed us,
General. No service craft has docked at or left the station in the
past thirteen hours."

The General
shivered. "Who was aboard your craft?" he asked softly.

"Sir?"
The Captain stared.back at him blank faced, not understanding.

"I want
them brought here. Now. Everyone who was aboard your patrol craft."

"Sir!"
The Captain bowed, then turned away.

Tolonen went to
the window and looked up into the circle of darkness overhead, his
thoughts in turmoil.

Then it was true
what the
kwai
Kao Chen had said. DeVore
was
the
traitor. Tolonen shuddered. It was hard to believe. DeVore . . . the
man had been such an excellent soldier. Such a fine, efficient
officer. More than that, he had been a friend. A good friend. Had
been a guest in the General's home many a time. Had held Tolonen's
baby daughter, Jelka, in his arms.

Tolonen turned,
facing the doorway. If DeVore were to come into the room right now
and swear he'd had no part in things, would I believe him? Yes! Even
now I find the whole idea of DeVore as a traitor unbelievable. I
would have known. Surely I would have known?

And yet his
absence . . .

The Captain
returned, followed by a dozen others. They formed up, awaiting the
General's pleasure.

"This is
all?"

The Captain
bowed his head deeply, then went down onto his knees. "Sir, I—I
don't know how this happened." He kept his head bent low, his
eyes averted. His shame seemed to radiate from him.

"They're
gone, too, eh?"

The Captain
continued to kneel. "Yes, sir."

"How many?"

"Two
officers. Eight men."

Tolonen shook
his head in disbelief. Ten men! Was DeVore's influence that strong,
then? Or was it something else? He turned away, deeply agitated. Of
course. Dispersionist money. Vast sums of it. Enough to buy out two
Security officers and eight underlings.

"Gods!"
he said softly. How much would it have cost them? A million yuan? Ten
million? Fifty? He shivered, then turned and looked down again at the
kneeling officer. "Get up, Captain."

The Captain
remained as he was. "I have failed you, sir. I ask permission to
seek an honorable death."

Angered now,
Tolonen reached down and pulled the man to his feet.

"I'll not
have good officers killing themselves for nothing. It is not your
fault. Do you understand me, Captain? DeVore was too clever for you.
Too clever for us all."

No, he thought,
meeting the Captain's eyes. It's really not your fault at all. But
now DeVore's at large. What mischief will he do?

The Captain
backed away, white faced, bowing. Then, at Tolonen's curt, angry
command, he turned and led his men away.

Alone again,
Tolonen let his anger drain from him. He went to the window and stood
there once more, looking out over the still, dark forms of a hundred
different craft, grounded at his order.

The certainty of
DeVore's treachery sickened him. More than that, it undermined him,
because it ran contrary to all he thought he had known about men. His
thoughts ran back over the last few years, trying to make sense of
things. Could he have known? Was there any way he could have known?

No. DeVore had
been the perfect officer. The perfect copy.

Tolonen tapped
at the control blisters inset into his wrist and made connection with
Major Nocenzi, half the globe away.

"General?"
Nocenzi's voice came through clear in his head. His image appeared
ghostly on the General's palm.

"Vittorio.
I want you to do something for me."

He spoke quickly
but clearly, itemizing the things he wanted done. Then, finished, he
cut connection, knowing time was against him.

So it was here
at last, the war Li Shai Tung had long ago said would come. A
secretive, dirty war, fought in the darkness between levels. A
guerrilla war, where friend and enemy had the same face. A war of
money and technology and, at the last, sheer cunning. And who would
win?

Tolonen smiled.

Karr, he
thought. I'll use Karr. He found Chen. Maybe he can find DeVore.

WANG TI opened
the door slowly, surprised to see the big man standing there, but
even more surprised when her husband called out from behind her,
telling her to let him in.

Karr bowed his
head respectfully and drew off his boots. Barefooted, he followed
Wang Ti through into the back of the apartment, ducking under
partitioning curtains.

Chen was sitting
on the floor by the back wall, his legs folded under him, the baby
asleep in his lap. There was little furniture in the cramped room. A
double bedroll was folded neatly against the wall to Chen's right and
a low table had been set up next to the fcang. Wang Ti had been
cooking, and the smell of it still hung in the room. From the far
side of the long dividing curtain on Chen's left came the sound of
their neighbors' two young sons playing boisterously.

Karr smiled and
bowed again, then squatted across from Chen.

"How's the
child?"

Chen looked down
at his infant son and gently stroked his brow.

"He's
well."

"Good."

Wang Ti stood at
his side dutifully, head bowed, eyes averted.

"You'll
share
ch'a
with us,
Shih . .
. ?"

"Karr."
The big man turned slightly and bowed his head, acknowledging her, "I
thank you for your kind offer, Wang Ti, but no. I have business to
discuss with your husband."

She nodded, then
took the baby from Chen's lap and backed away. Karr waited until she
had ducked out under the curtaining before speaking again. She would
hear all he said, but the illusion of privacy was necessary. It was
all the face a man had at these levels.

"You were
right, Chen. It was DeVore."

Chen grunted,
his blunt peasant face inexpressive. "So what now?"

Kan: reached
into the inner pocket of his overshirt and pulled out a thin tab of
ice. "Here," he said, offering it.

Chen hesitated,
remembering Jyan. He too had made deals with the Above. And where was
he now? With his ancestors. Dead, his spirit untended, no sons to
burn offerings for his soul.

"What is
it?"

Karr laughed.
"Still suspicious, eh? You've no need to be, Chen. You gave us
more than we could have asked for. This"— he placed the
tab between them on the floor—"this is in settlement. A
blanket amnesty. Your citizenship papers. A ten deck security pass.
And a bonus. A thousand
yuan."

Chen started.
Then he was not to follow Wyatt to the block? He stared at the big
man openmouthed.

"You are
kwai,
Chen. A tool. And a good tool. The General was surprised
how good." He laughed. "We Net types, we can teach them a
thing or two, eh?"

Still Chen
hesitated. Was this all some kind of elaborate ruse? Some awful
taunting of him? But then why? Why should they bother?

"Then I'm
free?"

Karr looked
away, conscious of the woman listening beyond one curtain, the
neighbors beyond another. "Not exactly. You'll have to leave
this place. After what happened . . ."

"Isee."

Karr met his
eyes. "We'll resettle you. Retrain you."

"Retrain
me?"

"Yes.
You've a new job, Chen. You've joined Security. As my adjutant."

Chen stared,
then looked down. "And if I say no?"

Karr shrugged,
watching the Han closely. "You are
kwai,
Chen, not a
warehouseman. Leave such jobs to good men like LoYing."

Chen looked up,
suddenly angry. "And how is Lo Ying?"

Karr laughed,
remembering how Lo Ying had jumped him. "A brave man, but no
fighter. Oh, he's happy now, Chen. He, too, has his bonus."

Chen looked down
at the tab. "You plan to buy me, then?"