If she wishes to leave, you swear to release her freely."
"Agreed. When begin?"' "Wait, Furansu-san, there's much more.
There will be no mirrors in your house, and you will bring none into it. When she disrobes, the room will always be dark--except once, the first time. Only once, Furansu-san, you may see her.
Next, the moment any... any disfiguring mark appears, or whenever she may ask you, without hesitation you will bow to her and bless her, and be her witness and give her the poison cup, or knife, and watch and wait until she is dead to honor her sacrifice."
His mind spun out of control. "Dead?"' "She said she would prefer the knife but did not know a gai-jin's choice."
When he could get his brain working, he said, "I, I the judge if, if mark disfiguring?"' Raiko shrugged. "You or she, it does not matter. If she decides to ask, then you must honor your promise. It will all be written into the contract. You agree?"' After he had sifted that, the horror of it, and made peace with it, he said, "Then sickness her early, no mark yet?"' Raiko's eyes were unrelenting, her voice so gentle, so terribly final, the stillness in her room so vast. "Hinodeh has no disease, Furansu-san, none. She is blemishless."
His head seemed to explode with "she is blemishless" echoing in the sky of his mind together with his all pervading shriek to himself "but you're Unclean!"
"Why? Why agree? Why? Why she... she know, know my, my bad. Yes?"' A maid, waiting on the veranda outside, frightened by his bellowing voice, pulled the shoji open. Then, waved away by Raiko, obediently closed it again. Delicately Raiko sipped her sak`e. "Of course she knows, Furansu-san. So sorry."
He wiped the saliva from the corners of his mouth. "Then why... agree?"' Again the strangeness. "Hinodeh will not tell me, so sorry. It is part of my agreement with her that I do not press her to know, as it must be part of your agreement with her. We are not to press her, she says she will tell in her own time." Raiko had exhaled heavily. "So sorry, but you must agree as part of the contract. That is the final condition."
"Agreed. Please make contract..."
After an agony of time--only a few days--it had been signed and sealed and he went with Hinodeh, him unClean and her Clean, in all her glory, and tomorrow he would again...
Andr`e almost leapt out of himself as a hand grasped his shoulder and he found himself back in Struan's great room. It was Phillip saying, "Andr`e, are you all right?"
"What? Oh, oh yes..." Andr`e's heart was palpitating, cold sweat making his flesh crawl, that and the memory of "Blemishless" and "First Time" and the horror of it--and dreading tomorrow. "Sorry, I... a cat was walking on my grave." All at once the room pressed down on him and he had to get out into the air. He got up, groped away, mumbling, "Ask... ask Henri to play, I ... I don't feel... sorry, have to leave ..."
Blankly, Tyrer stared after him. Babcott wandered over from the roulette wheel. "What's up with him? Poor fellow looks as though he's seen a ghost."
"Don't know, George. One moment he was all right, the next, mumbling and white as a sheet, sweat pouring off him."
"Was it anything you were talking about?"
"Don't think so, he was just advising me what to do about Fujiko and Raiko, nothing about him at all." They watched Andr`e leave as though the room were empty.
Babcott frowned. "Not like him, he's usually so debonaire." Poor chap, must be his affliction--wish to God I could supply a cure, wish to God there was a cure.
"Talking about debonaire," Tyrer was saying, "I didn't know you were such an accomplished dancer."
"Nor did I," the giant said with a booming laugh. "I was inspired, she'd inspire anyone.
Normally I dance like a rhino." They looked across at her. "Extraordinary constitution that girl, and wonderful, infectious laugh."
"Yes, Malcolm's a lucky fellow.
'cuse me, I'd best ask Henri to sub for Andr`e..." He wandered off.
Babcott watched Angelique. Curious that a doctor can examine a patient and not be aroused, he thought, even with someone like her. I wasn't, the times she consulted me at Kanagawa or here, though there was never any intimate examination, never a need except for the unusual heaviness of her period, a few weeks ago, when a careful examination was clearly necessary, though she never allowed it. I'd never seen her so pale or her lips so bloodless. Come to think of it, she acted strangely, wouldn't let me near her, just let me into her room briefly, almost as a stranger, when the evening before--the time I returned her crucifix--I had listened to her heart, tapped her chest and back and stomach and she had behaved like a normal patient. I remember her pulse was quite agitated, for no apparent reason.
Curious behavior.
Have I missed something? he asked himself, watching her at the roulette table, bubbling with life, clapping her hands with childlike glee when she won Red or Black, Zergeyev and others teaching her the finer arts of gambling. Strange she doesn't wear her cross as most Catholics would, especially as it was a gift from her adored mother.
"Grand party, Malcolm," Sir William said, coming up to him, stifling a yawn. "Time for me to turn in."
"Another brandy?" Malcolm was sitting near the inglenook fireplace, the fire down to embers now.
"No thanks, my back teeth are awash.
Great lady, Malcolm, great sport."
"Yes," he agreed proudly, mellowed by the wine and brandies that deadened the pain and calmed his fluttering panic for the future. Not as strongly as the medicine, he thought. Never mind, it's a beginning.
"Well, good night." Sir William stretched. "Oh by the way," he said, his voice easy, "could you drop by sometime tomorrow, any time that suits."
Malcolm looked up sharply, the thought of his mother's letter putting ice into his stomach again.
"Say eleven?"
"Perfect, any time. If you want to change it, fine."
"No, at eleven. About what, Sir William?"
"It can wait, nothing that can't wait."
"About what, Sir William?" He saw pity in the eyes studying him, perhaps compassion. His discomfort increased. "It's about my mother's letter, isn't it--she said she was writing to you by today's mail."
"Yes it was, but only partially, I had been warned to expect a letter. The first matter was Norbert, now that he's back. I hope this duel nonsense is out of both your heads."
"Of course."
Sir William grunted, unconvinced, but let it rest. He could do no more than warn both parties and then, if they proceeded, to enforce the law. "You're both warned."
"Thank you. Second?"
"Second was that I have been informed officially of the Government's plan to outlaw all trade in opium by British nationals, to forbid the trade in all British ships, to destroy our Bengal opium plantations and replant with tea. As you had led the delegation to ask and complain about the rumors I wanted you to be the first to know."
"That will ruin our Asian trade, our China trade, and completely upset the British economy."
"In the short run it will certainly cause a major problem for the Exchequer but it is the only moral course. Should have been done years ago.
Of course I understand the unsolvable silver-opium-tea triangle and the chaos of lost revenue it will cause the Exchequer." Sir William blew his nose, already weary of the problem that had harassed and aggravated the Foreign Office for years. "Think I'm getting a cold. I suggest you convene a meeting next week to see how we can minimize the confusion."
"I'll arrange it."
"Growing our own tea is a good idea, Malcolm," Sir William said. "Marvelous idea! It might interest you to know the first Bengal test plantations producing crops were grown from seeds smuggled out of China and brought back to Kew Gardens by Sir William Longstaff, Hong Kong's governor in your grandfather's day, when he returned home."