"Do you understand why I had to kill the copy, Tao Chu?"
Tao Chu glanced quickly at Li Yuan, then looked back steadily at his uncle. "Not at first, Uncle Ma, but Li Yuan explained it to me. He said you had to kill the guilt you felt at Grandpa Tiao's death. That you could not be your own man until you had."
"Then you understand how deeply I revere my father? How hard it was to harm even a copy of him?"
Tao Chu nodded, his eyes bright with understanding.
"Good." He squeezed the boy's shoulders briefly, then stood. "But I must thank you, Tao Chun. You did well today. You gave me back my father."
Tao Chu smiled, greatly pleased by his uncle's praise; then, at a touch from Li Yuan, he joined the older boy in a deep bow and backed away, leaving the T'ang to their Council.
from THE camera's vantage point, twenty li out from the spaceship, it was hard to tell its scale. The huge sphere of its forward compartments was visible only as a nothingness in the star-filled field of space—a circle of darkness more intense than that which surrounded it. Its tail, so fine and thin that it was like a thread of silver, stretched out for ten times its circum-
ference, terminating in a smaller, silvered sphere little thicker than the thread.
It was beautiful. Li Shai Tung drew closer, operating the remote from a distance of almost three hundred thousand li, • adjusting the camera image with the most delicate of touches, the slight delay in response making him cautious. Five li out he slowed the remote and increased the definition.
The darkness took on form. The sphere was finely stippled, pocked here and there with hatches or spiked with communication towers. Fine, almost invisible lines covered the whole surface, as if the sphere were netted by the frailest of spiders' webs.
Li Shai Tung let the remote drift slowly toward the starship and sat back, one hand smoothing through his long beard while he looked about him at the faces of his fellow T'ang.
"Well?"
He glanced across at the waiting technicians and dismissed them with a gesture. They had done their work well in getting an undetected remote so close to The New Hope. Too well, perhaps. He had not expected it to be so beautiful.
"How big is it?" asked Wu Shih, turning to him. "I can't help thinking it must be huge to punch so big a hole in the star field."
Li Shai Tung looked back at him, the understanding of thirty years passing between them. "It's huge. Approximately two li in diameter."
"Approximately?" It was Wei Feng, T'ang of East Asia, who picked up on the word.
"Yes. The actual measurement is one kilometer. I understand that they have used the old Hung Mao measurements throughout the craft."
Wei Feng grunted his dissatisfaction, but Wang Hsien, T'ang of Africa, was not so restrained. "But that's an outrage!" he roared. "An insult! How dare they flout the Edict so openly?"
"I would remind you, Wang Hsien," Li Shai Tung answered quietly, seeing the unease on every face. "We agreed that the terms of the Edict would not apply to the starship."
He looked back at the ship. The fine web of lines was now distinct. In its center, etched finer than the lines surrounding it, were two lines of beadlike figures spiraling about each other,
forming the double helix of heredity, symbol of the Dispersion-ists.
Three years ago—the day after Under Secretary Lehmann had been killed in the House by Tolonen—he had summoned the leaders of the House before him, and there, in the Purple Forbidden City where they had murdered his son, had granted them concessions, among them permission to build a generation starship. It had prevented war. But now the ship was almost ready and though the uneasy peace remained intact, soon it would be broken. The cusp lay just ahead. Thus far on the road of concession he had carried the Seven. Thus far but no farther.
He stared at the starship a moment longer. It was beautiful, but both House and Seven knew what The New Hope really was. No one was fooled by the mask of rhetoric. The Dispersionists talked of it being an answer—"the only guarantee of a future for our children"—but in practical terms it did nothing to solve the problem of overpopulation that was supposedly its raison d'etre. Fully laden, it could carry no more than five thousand settlers. In any case, the ship, fast as it was, would take a thousand years to reach the nearest star. No, The New Hope was not an answer, it was a symbol, a political counter—the thin end of the great wedge of Change. It heralded not a new age of dispersal, but a return to the bad old days of technological free-for-all—a return to that madness that had once before almost destroyed Chung Kuo.
He cleared the image and for a while sat there, conscious that they were waiting for him to say what was on his mind. He looked from face to face, aware that the past three years had brought great changes in his thinking. What had once seemed certain was no longer so for him. His belief in peace at all costs—in a policy of concession and containment—had eroded in the years since Han Ch'in's death. He had aged, and nbt only in his face. Some days there was an air of lethargy about him, of having done with things. Yes, he thought, looking down at his own long hands; the tiger's teeth are soft now, his eyes grown dull. And they know this. Our enemies know it and seek advantage from it. But what might we do that we have not already done? How can we stem the tidal flow of change?
Tsu Ma broke into his thoughts. "Forgive me, Li Shai Tung. But what of Tolonen?"
Li Shai Tung looked up, surprised, meeting the new T'ang's eyes.
"Tolonen? I don't understand you, Tsu Ma. You think I should accede to the House's demands? Is that what you're saying?" He looked away, a bitter anger in his eyes. "You would have me give them that satisfaction too?"
Tsu Ma answered him softly, sympathetically. "No. Not at all, Shai Tung. You mistake my meaning. Things have changed. Many who were angry three years ago have cooled. They see things differently now, even in the House."
Li Shai Tung looked about him, expecting strong disagreement with Tsu Ma's remarks, but there was nothing. They looked at him expectantly.
"I still don't follow you. You mean they'd have him back? After what he did?"
Tsu Ma shook his head. "Not as general, no. But in some other role."
Li Shai Tung looked down sharply. It was more than he could have hoped for. But dare he say yes? Dare he call the old rogue back?
"We are not alone in thinking things have gone too far," said Wu Shih, picking up on what Tsu Ma had said. "There are many at First Level—even among the Hung Moo—who feel we gave too much; were too timid in our dealings with the Dispersionists. They would see the changes to the Edict reversed, The New Hope melted down."
"We daren't go so far. There would be war, surely?"
Tsu Ma leaned forward. "Not if we challenge them in their own sphere."
"You mean the House?"
There were nods all around. So, they had discussed this between them. Why? Had he beeh so preoccupied? So unreachable?
Wei Feng now spoke for them all. "We know the last three years have been hard for you, Shai Tung. You have tasted bitterness and we have had to watch in silence. But we shall watch no longer, nor hold our tongues for fear of hurting you. We have seen the plan your advisor Shepherd drew up and—"
Li Shai Tung sat forward jerkily. "Impossible! No one has seen those papers!"
Wei Feng waited a moment, then continued. "Not impossible, old friend. Not at all. Shepherd merely took advantage of his right as equal to appeal to us. He knew you would not act as your heart dictated, so he sent us copies."
Li Shai Tung stared back at him, astonished. Then they knew. ...
"And we agree." Wei Feng was smiling now. "Don't you see, Li Shai Tung. We agree with S/ith Shepherd's proposals. Our enemies have gone too far. To kill your son and take advantage from it—it was too much for any man to bear. And a T'ang is not just any man. A T'ang is one of Seven."