Lever lifted his chin, then turned away, feeling a sudden rush of pride at the thought of what he'd accomplished here. Here it was, the first stage of his Dream completed. He had brought it this far, by force of will and brute determination, and he would take it even farther, right to the shores of death itself. He smiled, all trace of the uncertainty he had felt back in the lecture hall gone from him. He had a right, surely, to feel proud of what he'd done? No Emperor or President had ever done so much.
He looked about him, then nodded, suddenly determined. For some reason, young Ward didn't want to work for him. A dozen times now he had turned down his offers. But that didn't mean that he had to give up. No. If anything it made him more determined. He was used to having his own way, and he would have his way in this eventually. Because this was too important not to give it his best shot. And if that best shot meant getting Ward, he would get Ward. Whatever it took.
Yes. Because here, at this place he had specially created for the purpose, they were ready to begin. In the days to come they would take on Death himself. Would track him down and face him, eye to eye. Yes. And stare him down.
kim pushed AWAY the empty starter plate and looked about him, noting how busy the restaurant had suddenly become, then turned back, meeting Michael Lever's eyes across the table.
"It's strange, isn't it?" Michael said, a faint smile on his lips. "I'd never have thought that I'd feel awkward in a place like this, but these days. . . well, I see it with new eyes, I guess. The wastefulness of it all. The excess. Being Wu Shih's guest made me realize how much I'd taken for granted, how much I hadn't seen."
Kim frowned, concerned. "You should have said. Look, I'll cancel the main course, if you want. We can go elsewhere."
Michael shook his head. "No. It's okay. Besides, I'll have to get used to this again if I'm going into business on my own accoimt. I learned that with my father. This is where the deals are made, in the restaurants and private clubs, with a full mouth and a swollen belly, over a plate of expensive delicacies and a tumbler of brandy."
Kim laughed softly, enjoying the new Michael Lever. There was a depth of irony to him that hadn't been there before his imprisonment; a sharp, self-deprecating humor that suited him perfectly. Before, he had been his father's shadow, but now he was himself; leaner but also stronger than before.
"Do you really hate it all that much?"
Michael looked down. "I don't know. It's like I said, it's hard to see it now the way they do. Being locked up all day ... it gave me the chance to do a lot of thinking. To look at our world afresh." He met Kim's eyes again. "My father can't understand that. To him it's as if I've been away at College or something. He can't see what IVe been through. He thinks . . ." He huffed out, hurt and exasperated. "Well, he thinks I'm just being awkward, willful, but it's not like that."
Kim leaned toward him, covering his hand with his own. "I understand," he said, thinking back to his own experiences of confinement. "It changes you, doesn't it? Throws you back upon yourself."
Michael nodded and looked up at him, smiling, grateful for his understanding.
"I'm sorry. This whole business with your father. It must be hard for you."
Michael shrugged. "It hurts, sure, but I've known worse. Besides," he said, brightening, "youVe not told me what you're up to. Have you made your first million yet?"
Kim laughed. "No, but it sure as hell feels as if IVe spent it setting things up!" He sat back, relinquishing Michael's hand. "You know how it is. Creatively we're strong, but financially. . . Well, to be honest with you, Michael, I could do with some outside investment, but it's a question of finding someone I can trust. Someone who won't attach too many strings."
"Ahh . . ." Michael looked away, thoughtful a moment. "You know, Kim, I thought I knew everything there was to know about business, I thought no one could teach me anything new, but I'm having to learn it all again, from scratch. Without my father's money, without the power that ImmVac represents, I'm just another face, fighting for my share of a hostile market."
"Hostile?"
"My father. He doesn't like the idea of me going it alone. He thinks I should be back home, running errands for him."
"You mean he's actively trying to stop you?"
"Actively, no. Or at least, not as far as I know. But you know how it is. The word's out that my father's angry with me, and it's a brave man who'll risk offending Charles Lever for the sake of trading with his son. I've been cut dead a dozen, twenty times these past two days alone by so-called 'friends.' But there are ways around that. Bryn and I have been working on making contacts in the East Asian marketplace. It'll cost us, sure, but at least we can do business. Here in North America things are dead as far as we're concerned."
"I see." Kim leaned back, letting the waiter who had appeared clear the plates. "So how are you funding all this?"
Michael smiled. "IVe personal accounts. Money my mother left me. About fifteen million in all. It's not enough, but it'll get us started."
Kim narrowed his eyes. "That sounds ambitious."
"It is. But tell me, Kim, how much do you need? A million? Two?"
"One and a half," Kim said, as the waiter returned, setting down a plate of steaming hash before him. "One point two if we trim back to basics."
"And that covers what? R and D? Production? Distribution?"
"R and D is covered. I do all that up here." Kim tapped his skull and smiled. "No. My costing is for the initial production run, manufacture to fitting, allowing for a three-month payment schedule. We start fairly small, keep borrowing to a minimum, and finance expansion from profits."
Michael leaned toward him, interested. "YouVe got something ready to go, then?"
"Pretty well. IVe been working on a few things this last year. Some didn't pan out, but two of them . . . Well, let's say that I'm hopeful."
"These are new inventions, I take it?"
Kim nodded.
"And you've patented them, I hope?" .
"Not yet."
Michael whistled through his teeth. "But that's madness, Kim! What if someone raided your offices? You'd lose it all."
Kim shook his head. "They could strip the place bare, but they'd get nothing. As I said, it's all up here, in my head. When I'm ready I'll set it all down and take it along to the Patents Office and register it. But not before IVe sorted out the practical details."
Michael smiled, impressed by the young man. "It sounds good. Better than good, in fact. Look, Kim, why don't we do business? You need funding, we need a bit of specialist advice. Why can't we trade? I mean, I'll have to talk to Bryn and get his agreement, but I don't see why we can't help each other out, neh?"
Kim stared at him, confused. "Wait a minute. Have I got this right? Are you offering to back me? To put up the funds?"
"Why not?"
"But I thought you needed that money for your own venture?"
"We need ten million to get us started, sure, but that leaves more than enough for what you want. And no strings. Or at least, just the one—that you look over our proposal and give us your technical advice on what we propose."
Kim was smiling broadly now, his dinner quite forgotten. "That's great. Really great. But just what is your proposal?"
"Near-space technologies," Michael answered him, looking past him momentarily, as if seeing something clearly in the air. "It's the coming thing, Kim. The coming thing ..."
wei feng LAY on the great oakwood bed, his eyes closed, his long, thin face at rest. His hands lay one upon the other above the sheets, the slender fingers stiff, paler than the white silk of the coverings, a kind of darkness beneath their pallor. At the foot of the bed stood his three sons, heads bowed, the white of their clothes in sharp contrast to the rich colors of the room.