He had lain there a while, openmouthed with astonishment, then had come and sat here, toying with the comset's graphics, trying to re-create the vision he had had.
A spider. As so often he had been a spider in his dream; a tiny, silvered, dark-eyed creature, throwing out his web, letting the threads fly outward to the stars on tiny spinners that caught the distant sunlight and converted it to silk, flying onward, faster and ever faster to their various destinations. But this time it had been as if a great wind were blowing, gathering all of the threads into a single twisted trunk, drawing them up into the blueness of those eyes that floated like twin planets above where he crouched. Only on the far side of those eyes, where the blue shaded into black, did the trunk seem to blossom, like the branches of a tree, a million tiny threads spreading out like the fine capillaries of a root system, thrust deep into the earth of the universe.
Kim shivered, staring down at the thing he had made, first in his dreams and then here in the flatness of the screen. So it had always been for him: first he would see something, then he would act on what he'd seen. But this? How could he act on this? How could he pass his web through the young girl's eyes?
Or was that what it meant? Was he being too literal? Did this vision have another meaning than all those that had preceded it?
He shook his head, then cleared the screen, only then realizing how fast his heart was beating, how hard it seemed suddenly to breathe. Why was that? What did it mean?
He stood, angry with himself. It was only a dream, after all. It didn't have to mean anything, surely? No, he was better off concentrating on finishing off the work for Prince Yuan. Another two, maybe three, days should see that done. Then he could send it through. He would ask Barycz for the favor.
He leaned forward, about to bring up the lights, when the screen came alive again. A message was coming through. He leaned back, waiting, one hand touching the keyboard lightly, killing the hardprint facility.
The words appeared in the official Project typescript, headed by the symbol of a skull surrounded by a tiny nimbus of broken lines. It was an instruction for him to go to the medical center at once for his three-month checkup.
Kim sat back thoughtfully. It was too early. He wasn't due his next medical for another ten days. Still, that wasn't so unusual. Not everyone was as punctilious as he. Even so, he would make sure it wasn't one of Spatz's tricks.
He tapped out the locking combination, then put in the code, touching Cap A to scramble it. Cap L would unscramble when the time came to unlock, but until then Prince Yuan's files would be safe from prying eyes. Yes, they could take the comset apart, component by component, and never find it.
He looked up at the watching camera and smiled, then, going across to the corner, poured water from the jug into the bowl and began to wash.
TOLONEN STOOD and came around his desk, greeting Prince Yuan's Master of the Inner Chamber.
"Master Nan, how pleasant to see you here. What can I do for you?"
Nan Ho bowed low. "Forgive me, Marshal. I realize how busy you are, but this is a matter of the most extreme urgency."
"So my equerry leads me to believe. But tell me, what has happened, Master Nan? Is the T'ang's life in danger?"
Nan Ho shook his head. "It is not the T'ang but young Prince Yuan who is threatened by this matter. Nor is it a matter of life but of reputation that is at stake."
The old man frowned at that. "I don't understand. You mean Prince Yuan's reputation is threatened?"
"I do indeed, Marshal. I was at Pei Ro-hen's mansion on my master's business, when I overheard something. A rumor. A most vile rumor, which, if it were to become common knowledge, might do irreparable damage not only to my master but to the Seven. Such damage might well have political consequences."
Tolonen was watching him, his lips slightly parted. "Could you be more specific, Master Nan? I mean, what kind of rumor is this we're talking of?"
Nan Ho lowered his eyes. "Forgive me, Marshal, but I would rather not say. All I know is that there are no grounds whatsoever for such a rumor and that the perpetrators have but one purpose: to create a most vile nuisance for the Family that you and I deem it an honor to serve."
He glanced up, seeing that his words had done the trick. At the thought of the Li Clan being harmed in any way, Tolonen had bristled. There was a distinct color at his neck, and his gray eyes bulged with anger.
"Then what are we to do, Master Nan? What steps might we take to eradicate this vileness?"
Nan Ho smiled inwardly, knowing he had been right to come direct to Tolonen. "Pei Ro-hen has detained the men concerned before they could spread their wicked rumor. He is holding them until our return. If, through them, we can trace the source of this rumor, then we might yet stand a chance of crushing this abomina' tion before it takes root."
Tolonen gave a terse nod, then went back to his desk, giving brief instructions into his desktop comset before he turned back.
"The way is cleared for us. We can be at Lord Pei's mansion in half an hour. One of my crack teams will meet us there. Let us hope we are not too late, neh, Master Nan?"
Yes, thought Nan Ho, the tightness at the pit of his stomach returning. For all our sakes, let us hope we can stop this thing before it spreads.
THE TWO MEN STOOD at the barrier, waiting while the Marshal's party passed through on the down transit. When it had gone they turned, their eyes meeting briefly, a strange look passing between them.
"Passes . . ." the guard seated beyond the barrier said, waving them on with one hand.
Mach flipped open the tiny warrant card he was carrying in his left hand and offered it to the guard. The guard took it without looking at him. "Face up to the camera," he said tonelessly.
Mach did as he was told, staring up into the artificial eye. Somewhere in Central Records it would be matching his retinal prints to his service record. A moment later a green light flashed on the board in front of the guard. He handed the card back, again without looking at Mach, then held out his hand again.
Lehmann came forward a pace and placed his card into the guard's hand. This time the guard's eyes came up lazily, then took a second look as he noted the pallor of the man.
"You sick or something?"
Mach laughed. "So would you be if you'd been posted to the Net for four years."
The guard eyed Lehmann with new respect. "That so, friend?"
Lehmann nodded, tilting his face up to stare at the camera.
"Four years?"
"Three years, eight months," Lehmann corrected him, knowing what was in the false record DeVore had prepared for him.
The guard nodded, reading from the screen in front of him. "Says here you were decorated, too? What was that for?"
"Some bastard Triad runner got too nosy," Lehmann said, staring back at him menacingly. "I broke his jaw."
The guard laughed uncomfortably and handed back the card. "Okay. You can go through. And thanks. . . ."
Out of earshot Mach leaned close. "Not so heavy, friend."
Lehmann simply looked at him.
Mach shrugged. "Okay. Let's get on with this. We'll start with the boxes at the top of the deck."
They took the deck elevator up, passing through a second checkpoint, then sought out the maintenance shaft that led to the first of the eighteen communications boxes that serviced this deck.
Crouched in the narrow tunnel above the floor-mounted box, Lehmann took a small cloth bag from the pocket of his tunic. Tilting his head forward, he tapped first one and then the other of the false lenses out into his hand, placing them into the bag.
Mach was already unscrewing the first of the four restraining bolts. He looked up at Lehmann, noting what he was doing. "Are you sure you ought to do that? There are cameras in these tunnels, too."