He shook his head, but already he was beginning to understand.
"It cannot be as it was," she said, getting up slowly and coming across to where he stood. "There is more than death between us. More than other wives, other husbands. Time has changed us, Li Yuan. It has made you what you are, me what I am. Only the outward forms remain—time-ravaged things that look like we once were." She paused, looking up into his face. "We cannot go back, Li Yuan. Not ever."
He was silent, uncertain.
"Do you still love me?" she asked suddenly. Her face was fierce, uncompromising, but in her eyes he could see something else, deep down, hidden maybe even from herself. A fragility. A need. And for the first time he smiled; a tender, pitying smile.
"I have never stopped loving you."
Her whole face seemed to twitch and then reform, more ugly, more pained than before, but somehow also more beautiful. She had not expected this. Whatever she might have hoped for, his answer had surprised her.
She looked down, then turned away, all fierceness gone from her suddenly. Her chest rose and fell violently and her hands clutched at her waist as if to hold in all that she was feeling. But when she turned back there was anger in her face. "Then why? Why all of this if that was true?"
I don't know, he thought, and for the first time knew it was true. It could have been repaired. This, where they were now, was all his fault. Oh, she had been unfaithful, yes, but what was that? He had been hard on her—much too hard. Was it her fault if she had proved less than perfect? Had he loved only her perfection?
"I was young, Fei Yen. Maybe too young. I wronged you. I realize that now."
She made a small noise, then shook her head hesitantly. "What are you saying?" Her whole face was tensed against him, mistrustful now. She was afraid of what he was saying; fearful of being led by him and then discarded once again. These were old wounds, deep wounds. Why open them again unless to heal them?
"I am tired," he said finally. "And hurt. But that is not why I am here, Fei Yen. Nor do I wish to hurt you." He shook his head, genuinely pained. "That is the last thing I want, believe me."
Her voice was tiny now, tremulous. "So what then? What do you want?"
He looked at her; saw her again as he had once seen her, clearly, his vision purged of all hatred and jealousy. "I want you back. I want to try again."
She turned from him, hiding her face. "No, Yuan, that cannot be."
"Why?" He was astonished. Had he read her wrong? He had thought. . . "Fei Yen? What is it?"
She half turned to look at him, then turned and ran from the room. But in that momentary look he had seen. In some small way she was still in love with him. He took three steps toward the far door, then stopped, pain and confusion making his head whirl. But if she loves me ...
For a moment longer he stood there, undecided, then he turned and went back out into the entrance hall. A guard came at his summons, then rushed off to bring the nurse and Kuei Jen. While he waited, Li Yuan went to the entrance arch and looked out down the steps toward the eastern slopes, remembering how he had once gone hunting there, in the woods, with his brother Han Ch'in.
The memory was ill—was like bile in his throat. He turned angrily and yelled, bidding the nurse to hurry. Then, with unconcealed bitterness, he pushed out through the doors and, ignoring the guards, ran across the grass toward his skimmer.
"Where to, Chieh Hsial" his pilot asked, looking around at him, then back at the nurse hurrying across the grass, Kuei Jen bundled in her arms.
Home, he almost said, but even as he thought it he realized that there was nowhere now he could really call home. "Fukien," he said, finally. "Contact Tsu Ma. Tell him I have changed my mind. That I would like to stay with him awhile."
EPILOGUE AUTUMN 2210
After Rain
At Heaven's border, the autumn clouds are thin and driven from the west by a thousand winds.
The world is beautiful at dawn after rain, and the rains won't hurt the farmers.
Border willows grow kingfisher green, the hills grow red with mountain pears.
A Tartar lament rises from the tower. A single wild goose sails into the void.
—Tu Fu, After Rain, eighth century a.d.
IT WAS LATE. Kim stood to one side of the landing pad, the tall figure of Tuan Wen-ch'ang beside him, as the cruiser came in across the ocean from the northwest, its lights sweeping the dark waters. In one hand he held his pack—a lightweight holdall containing his notebooks, a portable comset, and a change of silks. In the other he clutched the envelope he had been given only twenty minutes back. Inside it were details of his new posting.
The craft lifted and circled to the north, hovering there half a li out while Security checked out its codes, the faint drone of its engines filling the still night air. Then, like a bee moving from flower to flower, it lifted up, over them, and settled on the pad with a gentle hiss of hydraulics.
Tuan looked down at Kim and smiled, indicating that he should go first. Kim returned his smile, pleased that Tuan had been posted with him, and turned, making his way across as the hatch irised open, the ramp unfolding onto the pad.
North America. That was where they were sending him this time. Back to the East Coast. Moreover, they wanted him to apply himself to something new—to genetics, the very field that Old Man Lever had tried so long and hard to win him to. He smiled at the irony, able, after all he'd been through, to see the funny side of that. More so because of the news that had come through only an hour past from Philadelphia.
Halfway up the ramp he stopped and turned, looking back, trying to fix this final image of Sohm Abyss in his mind. He had grown here. More here, perhaps, than anywhere else, for it was here that he had finally got back in touch with himself. Here where he had made himself whole. Or as whole as he could be without Jelka. The future now seemed far less threatening than it had been only weeks ago. His planned life with Jelka was no longer an unattainable vision but merely a promise delayed.
Tuan put a hand on his shoulder. "What are you thinking, Kim?"
"That I'll miss this place."
Tuan gave a surprised laugh. "Really? After all that happened?"
"Maybe because it happened. But it's not just that. I felt in touch with things here. Really in touch. Look at it, Tuan. You've the great ocean below and the sky above. It's magnificent, don't you think? And so open. So connected. Besides . . ."
Tuan raised an eyebrow, but Kim just smiled, letting it pass.
"I hear that our new boss is a good man."
Kim shrugged. "Curval's certainly the best in his field, if that's what you mean. From all accounts he's revolutionized genetics single-handedly these last twenty-five years. SimFic must have paid a fortune to wean him from ImmVac."
"As much as for you?"
Kim laughed. "YouVe seen my file, then, Tuan Wen-ch'ang?"
"No. But I've heard the talk . . ."
Kim looked away thoughtfully, then looked back at Tuan, smiling. "Whatever, it'll be interesting, neh?"
"And challenging . . ."
Yes, he thought, turning to go inside. Even so, he knew it was only a filling of time, a distraction, until she returned. Until he could see her blue eyes smiling back at him again.
Jelka stood at the window of the Governor's apartment, looking out. Beyond the reinforced glass the surface of the moon was dark, the sun a pale and tiny circle low in the sky, glimpsed through a thick orange haze. To the east, along the shoreline of the great ethane lake, the spires of the refineries reached up into the darkness, their slender, needlelike forms lit by a thousand bright arc lamps. Beyond them the sprawl of Cassini Base, a city of four hundred and eighty thousand people, stretched to the foot of the ice escarpment; a towering wall of crystalline nitrogen. Clathrate, she had heard it called, and had noted the word in her diary. To tell Kim, when she saw him again.