Tseng-li gave another bow. "Is there anything I should be doing while you are gone, Highness?"
"Nothing that cannot wait three days. My Ministers are capable men, after all."
Tseng-li laughed, amused by the irony in his cousin's voice.
"No, Tseng-li," Li Yuan continued. "Just take care of my son, my wives, while I am gone, neh?"
The fifteen-month-old Kuei Jen was making small burbling noises now and pressing against Li Yuan's shoulder, rubbing his small, dark head against the silk.
"He's tired," explained Tseng-li, dismissing the nursemaid with a gesture of his hand. "He has been up several times in the night."
"Then I'll hold him," said Li Yuan, with a small nod of finality. "It is rather pleasant, neh?"
"Just now," agreed Tseng-li, smiling. "But they grow so fast. My brother's children now . . ." He laughed, looking thoughtful. "They're too big to carry already. Besides, they get so independent."
Li Yuan nodded, watching his cousin carefully. Already Kuei Jen was settling against him, snuggling in against the warmth of his shoulder. "You miss your brothers, Tseng-li?"
"Sometimes."
Li Yuan sighed, smiling at the small, warm weight he carried, then looked back at Tseng-li. "A break would be good for you, neh? Maybe when I get back."
Tseng-li nodded, keeping his silence; but his eyes showed gratitude.
"Sometimes I think that family is all. The rest. . ." Yuan laughed softly, feeling the child stir gently against him with the movement. "Ill thoughts for a T'ang, perhaps, but true. Nor would I trust a man who felt otherwise."
Tseng-li, watching him, smiled and nodded. The child was asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Circles of Dark
Captain HENSSA of the floating palace, Yangjing, moved across the room slowly, his legs drifting up as he turned and pulled himself along the guide rungs, then anchored himself beside the lieutenant at the screen.
"The codes check out?"
The lieutenant ran the signal again, then leaned back, letting his captain watch as the code broke down on the screen. Behind the sharp-etched lettering the image of the incoming craft was growing steadily larger, its complex computer-generated recognition pattern matching the programmed format perfectly.
There was total puzzlement on the captain's face. "Chi Hsing?" he said. "What would Chi Hsing want?"
The lieutenant stayed silent. This wasn't his decision. Orders or no orders, he wasn't going to shoot one of the Seven out of the skies. He had a family down below to think of.
"Send for verification."
"From whom?" the lieutenant asked, staring fixedly at the screen. He was conscious of the watching cameras, the tapes. No Board of Inquiry would find his actions reprehensible. He would act to the letter, or not at all.
For a full half minute the captain hesitated, while the craft drew slowly nearer. Then, abruptly, he leaned across and, steadying him-
501
self, tapped out a message on the touchpad. It was immediately coded and sent: With respect, please advise purpose of visit.
The lieutenant saw the worry in his captain's eyes, and, for once, felt some small sympathy for his normally overbearing superior. One did not ask a T'ang what his purpose was. Such a breach of etiquette might strip him of his rank.
For a time there was nothing. Then, as if there had been no query, the original request-for-docking signal came back. The craft was only ten minutes distant now and still closing. A decision would have to be made.
For the first time the captain looked down at his lieutenant and shook his head. "I don't like it." But he too was conscious, it seemed, of the cameras overhead and left it at that. Turning, he pushed off and drifted toward the far door. There, holding the top rung firmly, he twisted and looked back at the lieutenant. "Give them boarding clearance, but tell them there'll be a slight delay."
"And if they ask for a reason?"
The captain looked thoughtful a moment, then shrugged. "New security procedures, that's all." Then he turned and, pressing the hatch stud, slid through the irising circle into the corridor outside. The lieutenant watched him go, then turned to face the screen again, his fingers giving the clearance signal to the incoming ship.
IT WAS cramped in the shuttle. They sat in the forward compartment, six to a side, their helmets almost touching across the narrow space. Their suit systems kept them cool; even so, more than one of them had been sweating these past few minutes as the bulk of the floating palace grew larger on the screen above the hatch. They watched it in silence, knowing that these moments were the most vital of the whole mission. Here, as they approached, they were most vulnerable. One mistake and they would be so much iced debris, floating in the vacuum.
For a long time there was nothing. They could not hear the signal going out, nor did they know anything of the query sent back. Moment by moment the tension grew. Then, with a small click and a hum, the internal channel came on and the group leader's voice came across.
"We've got boarding permission. A small delay, it seems, then we're in. Good luck!"
There was a small buzz of talk, and a sense in them all of great relief. What lay ahead they had rehearsed to perfection. The worst of it was now behind them.
THE CAPTAIN had arranged the men in a semicircle about the boarding deck. They wore anchor shoes and full suits. Each held a small laser and a deflector shield. Beyond that he had said nothing to them. If he were right there would be time to give them simple orders. If wrong . . .
He smiled grimly, looking about him and listening to the sounds of the docking shuttle. If wrong he would need to trust to Li Yuan's understanding and compassion, for what he did now was an insult to Chi Hsing.
He shivered and stared straight ahead at the huge doors, waiting for them to open. His instincts told him this was wrong. Though the signals were correct, the situation felt wrong. Why should Chi Hsing visit now, and without warning? And why had he, Captain of the Watch, received no notice of the visit?
Against this strove another inner voice. Who else would use Chi Hsing's shuttle but the T'ang himself? Who use his codes? He was being ridiculous even to begin to think that something was amiss. And yet...
Perhaps this was why 1 was chosen. Perhaps they knew 1 would act this way. Whatever, he had gone too far now for half measures. He would see this through, whatever the personal cost. Whether his master understood or not, duty bade him take this action.
There was a sudden silence. The craft had docked. Then he heard a sharp hissing as the airlock filled. Thirty seconds, he thought, bracing himself, lifting his weapon and pointing it at the doors. He saw several of his men turn and look at him, then look back, not quite certain why they were there, or what was happening, but he kept silent a moment longer. There'll be time, he told himself. Whoever it is, the;y'ZZ not expect us here.
The hissing stopped. There was a low groan, then, with the slightest hesitation, the doors began to slide back. Through the gap stepped three men, fully suited, the first in a suit of gold, trimmed with imperial yellow.
"Chi Hsing . . ." he began, lowering his gun and beginning to bow. All about him his soldiers were sinking to their knees, their heads lowered. But there was a movement behind the T'ang which made the captain look and hesitate, then raise his gun again. But he was too late. The air was crisscrossed with burning laser traces, and the screams of his men were deafening in his ears. He himself was shouting now, but his voice was lost in the general noise and confusion. The three men were firing at the kneeling soldiers, cutting them apart. Only he, miraculously, stood there in the midst of it all, untouched.