the courtroom was hushed, expectant. Above the raised dais where the court officials sat, a dozen media remotes hovered like fireflies, sending back an incessant stream of images to the watching billions of Chung Kuo. Just now their cameras were focused on the distinctive features of Chi Hsun, the most senior of the seven Commissioners. Chi Hsun was a tall, humorless man with a long, horselike face. To the public he was best known for his role in the Demotion trials six years before. Back then he had become known as “Iron Chi” for his unrelenting pursuit of those who had opposed the Seven in the great “War-That-Wasn’t-a-War.” As Tsu Ma’s representative on the Hearing Committee his view was supposed to carry no more weight than any other’s, but his long experience made him their natural leader, and it fell to him now to open the proceedings.
Off to one side sat the old Marshal himself, Knut Tolonen. He was in overall charge of the Hearings and in the last two and a half years had earned much respect for the way he had handled the matter. Now, with the public phase of the Hearings finally about to begin, he seemed tired, his granite features pale and drawn.
The camera moved on, panning slowly across the huge stacks of legal books and files, three long rows of them, which were laid out along the full length of the benches at the center of the Courtroom, then slowly climbed the steps, picking out first the tall, coldly elegant figure of Berta Ebert, sitting between her daughters on the far right of the court, then moved along, past various familiar figures, until it rested on the face of Lutz Ebert, the dead man’s half brother. For a moment it remained there, allowing that face, with its weak, watery blue eyes and its uncertain, somewhat shifty features, to condemn itself, then moved on again, across a backdrop of media celebrities and chattering anchormen, until it focused on the stocky yet sophisticated form of Henri Lanouette, sitting amid the bankers and businessmen—Han and Hung Mao— who formed his faction. For a brief moment the faint murmur of voices filled the Courtroom. Then, as the ceremonial bell sounded—one tone high, the other low—the room fell silent and the three parties’ advocates entered the room from the doors at the far end, making their way toward the raised bench at the front where the Commissioners sat.
Chi Hsun waited for them to form up in front of him, then made a brief dismissive gesture of his hand. At once the main body of the advocates—some thirty or so in all—made their way across to their benches on the left-hand side of the court, leaving only the three Senior Advocates standing before the Commissioners. And so, finally, they came to it: the formal submission of evidence. First to submit would be Tung Li-so, Chief Advocate for Berta Ebert and her daughters.
Tung Li-so began his submission, but he had barely uttered more than a dozen words when he broke off, staring to his right. An elderly Han had come across from the public benches and now presented himself before Iron Chi, his head respectfully bowed. As he straightened up, the remotes homed in, hovering just overhead.
“Forgive me, Excellency,” he began, “but I would like to submit fresh evidence before the Commissioners in the matter of the GenSyn Inheritance Hearings.”
Chi Hsun stared at the ancient a moment, astonished, then turned, looking to Tolonen for guidance.
“I have crucial new evidence. If Your Excellency would permit.”
“Let’s hear what he has to say!” Tolonen called from across the courtroom
in a weary voice. “But make him get on with it. We’ve delayed long
enough!”
“All right,” Chi Hsun said gruffly, glaring at the newcomer, “but if you are wasting the Commission’s time, I shall have you charged, you understand?”
“1 understand, Excellency.”
“Good. Then state your name and business and get on with it.” “Thank you, Excellency. My name is Ku Hsien-ch’eng and I am Advocate for the sole legitimate heir to the estate of Klaus Ebert.” Iron Chi nodded, stunned by what he’d said, waiting for Advocate Ku to say more, but the old man merely turned away. At that moment, as if at an unseen command, the doors at the far end of the room swung inward and eight gray-bearded advocates made their way into the court, each bearing a huge stack of files and legal texts, which they proceeded to heap upon the central benches, pushing aside what was already there. “Seven copies,” Ku said, turning back to Iron Chi and bowing once more.
“As the Commission demands.”
there was uproar in the court. On the benches to the left the advocates were standing, calling out to the Commissioners, demanding that they dismiss this new evidence, while on the bench itself the Commissioners were in disarray, arguing among themselves over the legality of this new submission. Amid it all stood Ku Hsien-ch’eng, his head bowed, a faint, almost enigmatic smile on his face.
On the public benches Lutz Ebert was standing, looking on, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Nearby Berta Ebert was looking down, her fists balled tightly in her lap, what she was feeling concealed behind a wall of icy self-composure. Only Lanouette seemed vaguely amused, as if he’d been forewarned.
Tolonen, meanwhile, leaned over Chi Hsun’s shoulder, reading through the brief abstract of Advocate Ku’s submission, wondering— just loud enough for the nearest remote to catch his muttering—who in the gods’ names could possibly be claiming the GenSyn billions. An answer which, when he finally came to it, made him laugh, half in shock, half in disgust. “The gods help us!” he said quietly, meeting Iron Chi’s eyes. “Let’s hope to hell this isn’t true!”
TOLONENSATATHiSDESKin the Lower Committee Room, an old-fashioned glowlamp hovering nearby, illuminating the great chart he had spread out before him. Beyond the edges of the chart the desk was cluttered with huge stacks of files and discs and ancient law texts. Nearby, waiting silently in the shadows beyond the tight circle of light, sat his equerry the young lieutenant, Lofgren.
The Marshal looked up, then rubbed at his eyes with his right hand. Beyond the reinforced ice of the picture window the darkness seemed to have softened toward morning. His left shoulder had begun to ache, as it often did when he was tired, but that was understandable. They had been working through the new evidence for the best part of a day, but now it was clear. He yawned and looked across, smiling at the young man. “What time is it, Bertil?”
“Fifth bell sounded twenty minutes back, sir.” Tolonen nodded, then sat back, staring thoughtfully at the great mass of untouched material. There was much more to look at— enough to keep the Committee busy for another month—but he had seen enough to know that he had been right. This was serious. Very serious indeed. He turned, looking at the young man again. “What’s your feeling about this, Bertil? Do you think I was right to keep the Committee at arm’s length?”
The young lieutenant considered a moment, then: “From what I’ve seen, sir, I think you had no choice. By dismissing Iron Chi and the Committee when you did, you gave Li Yuan a clear advantage. If Wang Sau-leyan’s man, Tu Chung, had got wind of any of this, his Master would almost certainly have intervened at once. As it is, Li Yuan has time to act, to prevent Wang from using this against him.”
Tolonen sniffed deeply. That was true. And yet he could not stop the Hearing tomorrow. To do so would merely invite the T’ang of Africa to meddle. And that was what he had been trying to avoid all along. No. His problem was how to play this. How to turn this information to Li Yuan’s advantage.
He looked back at his equerry. “At present Wang knows merely that there has been a development in the case, not how significant that development is. Yet if 1 allow this new evidence to go before the Committee, Wang will know everything within the hour.”