Tsu Ma laughed. ‘Indeed. But tell me... who did you have in mind to look after the Project? It's a sensitive scheme. The security on it must be watertight.'
‘I agree. Which is why I'm placing Marshal Tolonen in charge.'
‘Tolonen?' Tsu Ma considered it a moment, then smiled. ‘Why, yes, I can see that that would work very well.'
He met the old T'ang's eyes, a look of understanding passing between them that escaped the young Prince's notice. For Tolonen would be opposed to the scheme. He, if anyone, would be guaranteed to keep it in check.
‘But see, I've talked enough already, and you still know so little about the scheme itself. Let Li Yuan speak for me now. Let him be my voice.'
Tsu Ma looked across at the young man, interested. This was why he had come: to hear Li Yuan's proposal in detail. ‘Speak,' he said, his left hand outstretched, palm open. A broad hand with long fingers clustered with heavy rings. Smoke curled up from beneath the hand.
Li Yuan hesitated, then, composing himself, began, itemizing the discoveries they had made at various SimFic establishments: discoveries that had broken the Edict. Things meant to harm the Seven, now harnessed for their use.
Tsu Ma listened, drawing on the cheroot from time to time, his smile growing broader by the moment. Until, finally, he laughed and clapped his hand against his thigh.
‘Excellent! My word, it is excellent.' He rose and went to the window, looking down the slope. ‘You have my agreement, Li Shai Tung. I like this plan. I like it very much.'
Tsu Ma turned, looking back at the young man. Li Yuan was smiling broadly, pleased with himself, proud of his scheme, and delighted that he had Tsu Ma's approval. Tsu Ma smiled back at him and nodded, then turned to the window again.
At the bottom of the slope, on the terrace above the ornamental lake, a woman was walking, looking back towards the house. She wore riding clothes and her long dark hair hung loose where she had just unfastened it. She was small, delicate, like a goddess made of the finest porcelain. Tsu Ma smiled and looked away; turned to face the two men in the room with him.
‘Yes,' he said, the smile remaining on his lips. ‘It's perfect, Yuan. Quite perfect.'
‘Who is he?'
DeVore turned to Lehmann and smiled. ‘His name is Hung Mien-lo and he was Chancellor to Wang Ta-hung before his recent death.'
Lehmann studied the screen a moment longer, then turned his back on it, staring at DeVore. ‘So what is he doing there?'
The film had been shot secretly by DeVore's man amongst the Ping Tiao. It showed a meeting Jan Mach had had that morning. A meeting he had been very anxious to keep a secret from the other Ping Tiao leaders.
‘I don't know. But I'm sure of one thing. He wouldn't be there unless Wang Sau-leyan wanted him there. So the real question is – what does Wang Sau-leyan want of the Ping Tiao?'
‘So Hung is the new T'ang's man now?'
‘It seems so. My man in Alexandria, Fischer, thinks Sau-leyan wasn't responsible for his brother's death, but there's good reason to believe that Hung Mien-lo has been his man for some time now.'
‘And Mach? Why didn't he consult the others?'
‘That's Mach's way. He d mehen ay. He didn't like it when I went to Gesell direct. If he'd had his way he would have checked me out beforehand, but I circumvented him. He doesn't like that. It rankles with him. He likes to be in control of things.'
‘But you think he'll deal with Hung Mien-lo?'
DeVore nodded. ‘It makes sense. If I were him I'd do the same. He'll get what he can out of the T'ang. And he'll use that to keep us at a distance. To make the Ping Tiao less dependent on us. And, conversely, he'll use the alliance with us to keep the T'ang at a distance. It'll mean the Ping Tiao won't have to accept what either of us tell them to do. It'll give them the option to say no now and again. Mach will try to keep the deal with us secret from the T'ang, and vice versa. He'll try to make it seem as if the change – the strengthening of their position – comes from within the Ping Tiao.'
Lehmann was silent a while, thoughtful. ‘Then why not kill Hung Mien-lo and prevent Mach from making this deal? There has to be a reason.'
DeVore smiled, pleased with his young lieutenant. He always enjoyed talking out his thoughts with him.
‘There is. You see, Mach's scheme works only if we're unaware of the T'ang's role in things. If we're fooled by his tales of a great Ping Tiao renaissance. Oh, their fortunes will be on the up after Helmstadt, there's no doubt, but a deal with the T'ang could give them something they lack. Something they didn't get from Helmstadt. Funds.'
‘And you want that? You want them to be independently funded?'
‘No. Not if that was all there was to it. But I don't intend to let them bargain with me. At the first sign of it I'll threaten to pull out altogether. That would leave them in a worse position than they began, because all the T'ang can offer them is money. They'd lose our contacts, our specialist knowledge, our expertise in battle. And the rest of the Bremen map.'
‘I see. And then there's the question of what Wang Sau-leyan wants from this.'
‘Exactly. He wouldn't risk contacting the Ping Tiao unless he had some scheme in mind. T'ang or not, if the other members of the Council of Seven heard of his involvement he would be dead.'
Lehmann glanced at the screen. ‘It's a thought...'
‘Yes. There's always that option. If things get really bad and we need something to divert the Seven.'
‘Then what do you intend to do?'
DeVore leaned forward and cleared the screen. At once the lights came up again.
‘At present nothing. Mach is meeting Hung Mien-Lo again. In Alexandria in two weeks' time. My man will be there to record it for me. It might be interesting, don't you think? And – who knows? – Mach might even give the T'ang his father's ear back.'
The night was clear and dark, the moon a sharp crescent to the north-east, high above the distant outline of the mountains. It was a warm night. Laughter drifted across the water as the long, high-sided boat made its way out across the lake, the lanterns swinging gently on either side.
Tsu Ma had insisted on taking the oars. He pulled the light craft through the water effortlessly, his handsome mouth formed into a smile, his back held straight, the muscles of his upper arms rippling beneath his silks like the flanks of a running horse. Li Yuan sat behind Tsu Ma in the stern, looking past him at Fei Yen and her cousin, Yin Wu Tsai.
The two girls had theirt yin.
Li Yuan grinned broadly, enjoying himself. In the varicoloured light from the lanterns Fei Yen looked wonderful, like a fairy princess or some mythical creature conjured from the rich legends of his people's past. The flickering patterns of the light made her face seem insubstantial; like something you might glimpse in a dream but which, when you came closer or held a clear light up to see it better, would fade or change back to its true form. He smiled at the fancifulness of the thought, then caught his breath, seeing how her eyes flashed as she laughed at something her cousin had whispered in her ear. And then she looked across at him, her dark eyes smiling, and his blood seemed to catch fire in his veins.
He shuddered, filled by the sight of her. She was his. His.
Fei Yen turned, looking out behind her, then turned back, leaning towards Tsu Ma. ‘To the island, Tsu Ma. To the island...'
Tsu Ma bowed his head. ‘Whatever you say, my lady.'
The boat began to turn. Beyond the temple on the small hill the lake curved like a swallow's wing. There, near the wing's tip, was a tiny island, reached by a wooden bridge of three spans. Servants had prepared it earlier. As they rounded the point, they could see it clearly, the bridge and the tiny, two-tiered pagoda lit by coloured lanterns.
Li Yuan stared across the water, delighted, then looked back at Fei Yen.
‘It's beautiful, you clever thing. When did you plan all this?'
Fei Yen laughed and looked down, clearly pleased by his praise. ‘This afternoon. After we'd been riding. I... I did it for our guest, husband.'
Tsu Ma slowed his stroke momentarily and bowed his head to Fei Yen. ‘I am touched, my lady. You do me great honour.'
Li Yuan watched the exchange, his breast filled with pride for his wife. She was so clever to have thought of it. It was just the right touch. The perfect end to a perfect day. The kind of thing a man would remember for the rest of his days. Yes, he could imagine it now, forty years from now, he and Tsu Ma, standing on the terrace by the lake, looking back...
She had even been clever enough to provide an escort for the T'ang. A clever, pretty woman who was certain to delight Tsu Ma. Indeed, had Fei Yen not been in the boat, he would have allowed himself to concede that Wu Tsai was herself quite beautiful.
For a moment he studied the two women, comparing them. Wu Tsai was taller than Fei Yen, her face, like her body, longer and somehow grosser, her nose broader, her lips fuller, her cheekbones less refined, her neck stronger, her breasts more prominent beneath the silk of her jacket. Yet it was only by contrast with Fei Yen that these things were noticeable: as if in Fei Yen lay the very archetype of Han beauty, and all else, however fine in itself, was but a flawed copy of that perfection.
The island drew near. Li Yuan leaned forward, instructing Tsu Ma where to land. Then the boat was moored and Tsu Ma was handing the girls up on to the wooden jetty, the soft rustle of their silks as they disembarked seeming, for that brief moment, to merge with the silken darkness of the night and the sweetness of their perfume.