He looked at his son again and smiled, pleased by what he saw. He could not have made a finer creature in his own vats. Though he said it himself, Hans was a masterpiece of genetics – the end product of two centuries of breeding. Like a god, he was. A king among men.
His smile softened. It was as the Seven said, there were levels among men, and Hans, his son, was at the pinnacle. He watched him drain his glass then smile back at him.
‘I must get back. You know how it is...' Hans hesitated, then came forward and kissed his father's cheek. ‘But thank you.'
Klaus grinned. ‘For what? I am your father, Hans. Who, if not I, should defend you against s; oe cio, ans hesiuch slanders? Besides, who knows you better than I, neh?'
Hans stepped back, then gave a small bow. ‘Even so...'
Klaus lifted his chin, dismissing him. ‘Go on, boy. Duty calls.'
Hans grinned, then turned away. When he was gone Klaus Ebert went across to the decanter and poured himself a second brandy. In times like these he was fortunate to have such a son. The kind of son a man could be proud of. A king. He smiled and raised the glass, silently toasting his absent son, then downed the drink in a single, savage gulp. Yes, a king among men.
Haavikko was sitting in Wang Ti's kitchen, Kao Chen's two-year-old daughter, Ch'iang Hsin, snuggled in his lap. Across from him Chen busied himself at his wife's side, preparing the meal. At his feet their five-year-old, Wu, was waging a ferocious battle between two armies of miniature dragons, their tiny power packs making them seem almost alive.
Looking about him, it was hard to imagine anything quite so different from the world he had inhabited these past ten years – a world as divorced from this simple domesticity as death was from life. He shuddered, thinking of it. A world of swirling smoke and smiling wraiths.
Wang Ti turned to him, wiping her hands on a cloth. ‘And your sister, Axel? How is she?'
He smiled. ‘She's fine, Wang Ti. Never happier.'
She looked at him a moment, as if to read him, then smiled. ‘That's good. But you need a woman, Axel Haavikko. A wife.'
Chen laughed and glanced round. ‘Leave the poor boy alone, Wang Ti. If he wants a wife he'll find one soon enough. After all, he's a handsome young man. And if an ugly fellow like me can find a wife...'
Wang Ti shook her head. ‘Ugly is as ugly does. Never forget that, husband. Besides, if I close my eyes you are the handsomest of men!'
Husband and wife laughed; real warmth – a strong, self-deprecating humour – in their laughter.
‘Anyway,' Chen added after a moment, ‘marriage isn't always such a good thing. I hear, for instance, that our friend Ebert is to be married to the Marshal's daughter.'
Haavikko looked down, his mood changed utterly by the mention of Ebert.
‘Then I pity the girl. The man's a bastard. He cares for nothing except his own self-gratification. Ask anyone who's served with him. They'll all tell you the same...'
Chen exchanged a brief look with Wang Ti as she set the bowls down on the table, then nodded. ‘Or would, if they weren't so afraid of crossing him.'
Haavikko nodded. ‘That's the truth. I've been watching him these past few weeks – spying on him, you might say – and I've seen how he surrounds himself with cronies. A dozen or more of them at times. He settles all their Mess bills and buys them lavish presents. In return they suck up to him, hanging on to his every word, laughing on cue. You know the kind. It's sickening. They call him "the Hero of Hammerfest", but he's just a shit. A petty little shit.'
Chen wiped his hands, then sat down across from Axel, his blunt face thoughtful. ‘I know. I've seen it myself. But I can understand it, can't you? After all, as the world sees it he's a powerful man – a very powerful man – and those sucking up to him are only little men, hsiao jen. Socially they're nothing without him. But they hope to grow bigger by associating with him. They hope to rise on his coat tails.'
Wang Ti had been watching them, surprised by their change of mood. Gently, cares tsh; ed only littful not to wake the sleeping child, she took Ch'iang Hsin from Haavikko's lap, then turned, facing her husband, the child cradled against her. ‘Why so bitter, husband? What has the man ever done to you?'
‘Nothing...' Chen said, meeting her eyes only briefly.
Haavikko looked between the two momentarily, noting the strange movement of avoidance in Chen's eyes, knowing it signified something, then leaned towards him again.
‘There's one particularly vile specimen who hangs about with him. A man by the name of Fest. He was a cadet with me, and afterwards he served with Ebert and me under Tolonen. He's a captain now, of course. But back then...' Axel shuddered, then continued, ‘Well, he was partly to blame for my downfall.'
Chen looked past Axel momentarily, lifting his chin, indicating to Wang Ti that she should wait in the other room, then he looked back at Axel, his face creased with concern, his voice suddenly softer, more sympathetic.
‘What happened?'
Haavikko hesitated, then gave a small, bitter laugh. ‘It was different then. I can see that now. The world, I mean. It was shaped differently. Not just in my head, but in its externals. You could trust the appearance of things much more. But even then there were some – Ebert among them – who were made... crooked, you might say. Twisted. And it's in their nature to shape others in their own distorted form.'
He glanced up, giving a little shiver, the sheer rawness of the hurt in his eyes making Chen catch his breath.
‘We'd gone down to the Net, the day it happened. Ebert, Fest and I. We were after the assassins of the T'ang's Minister, Lwo Kang, and had been told to wait for a contact from our Triad connections there. Well, I didn't know that Ebert had arranged for us to stay in a sing-song house. It began there, I guess. He had me drugged and I... well, I woke up in bed with one of the girls. That was the start of it. It doesn't seem much, looking back, but it's... well, it's like I was clean before then; another person, unsullied, untouched by all those darker things that came to dominate me.'
‘And that's what happened?'
Haavikko gave a bitter laugh. ‘No. But that was where it began. I can see that now. The two things are inseparable. That and what followed. They were part of the same process. Part of the twistedness that emanates from that man.'
‘Ebert, you mean?'
Haavikko nodded. ‘Anyway... It was later that day. After we'd found the corpses of the assassins. After we'd gone to the Pit and seen Karr defeat and kill the adept, Hwa. Ebert made us go to the dressing rooms after the fight. He wanted to take Karr out to supper and share in his victory. It was something he didn't own, you see, and he wanted to buy it. But Karr was having none of it. And then Tolonen arrived and accepted Karr's services as guide. Oh, it's all linked. I see that clearly now. But back then... well, I thought things just happened – you know the saying, Mei fa tzu, it's fate. But there was a design to it. A shape.'
Haavikko paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath, then continued.
‘It was as we were coming away from the assassin's apartment. We were in the sedan: Ebert, Fest and I. Ebert was sounding off, first about Karr and then about the General. He said things that he would never have dared say to the General's face. When I called him out for it, Fest came between us. He told me to forget what was said. But I couldn't...'
Haavikko was silent a moment, looking down at his hands. When he looked up cept tong General&again there was a strange sadness in his eyes.
‘I don't regret what I did. Even now I don't think I could have acted any other way. It was just... well, let me tell you. When I was alone with the General I asked to be transferred. I felt unclean, you see. Of course, the old man asked me for my reasons. But when I tried to avoid giving them he ordered me to tell him what was up. So I did. I told him what was said in the sedan.'
Chen let out his breath. ‘I see...'
‘Yes. You can imagine. Tolonen was livid. He called Ebert and Fest back at once. It wasn't what I wanted – even then I didn't feel it was right to get Ebert thrown out of the force for something he'd said in a heated moment. But it was out of my hands at that stage. And then...'
‘Fest backed him up?'
Haavikko nodded. ‘I couldn't believe it. They were both so convincing. So much so that for months afterwards I kept asking myself whether I'd been wrong. Whether I'd imagined it all. Whether their version of things was really the truth. It was as if I'd had a bad dream. But it was one I couldn't wake from. And it all began back then. On that day ten years ago.'
A voice came from the shadows of the doorway behind them. ‘I remember that day well.'
The two men looked round, surprised. There was a figure in the doorway: a giant of a man, his head stooped to clear the lintel, his broad shoulders filling the frame of the door. Karr.
Chen was up out of his chair at once. He went across and embraced the big man, smiling fiercely. ‘Gregor! You should have said you were coming!'
Karr held his friend's arms a moment, smiling down into his face, then he looked back at Axel.
‘Yes. I remember you well, Axel Haavikko. I remember you coming to watch me fight that day. But I never understood until today why you disappeared from things so suddenly. You have good cause to hate Major Ebert.'