"I agree," said Wu Shih. "Toloneris findings are the most significant thing to have come to our notice these past twelve months. To think that they were so close to developing and using these things. It only goes to prove how right our forefathers were in clamping down on research into these areas. Indeed, it makes me have second thoughts about our plans. We must be careful how we change the Edict. Careful what we permit within our Cities."
Li Yuan looked from one to the other, then nodded. "Then we are agreed. We will keep this to ourselves. As for Karr, I will think the matter through. Just now he is doing important work for me, keeping an eye on what is happening down below. But that may have to wait.
As you say, cousin Ma, we must find out where these things came from, and it may well be that Karr alone can do that for us."
They walked on slowly, following the path toward the lake.
"And this evening?" Wu Shih asked quietly. "Shall we still go ahead, as planned?"
Tsu Ma looked up, meeting his eyes. "Our path is set. The announcement must be made. Even this cannot alter that."
"Maybe so," said Li Yuan somberly, "but I have slept badly since learning of these things. It is as if we are being warned." He sighed, then stopped, turning to face his fellow T'ang, the great expanse of the lake behind him. "Our ancestors argued that there can be no compromise with Change. So we were taught to believe, from the cradle on. Yet now we seek to make a deal with Change. To let it run, like a fish on a line. But what if the line breaks? What if we lose control?"
"There is no option," Tsu Ma answered bluntly. "You/know that, Yuan. If we falter now we are lost. A deal must be made. Something given, something taken back. No one has said it will be easy. But that is why we are T'ang. To make such decisions and carry them through. And to face the problems as they arise. It is our great task, and I, for one, will not shirk from it."
Wu Shih reached out, touching his arm. "We did not say you would, cousin. I am merely thinking that perhaps we ought to delay a while—to give us time to find out more about this other matter— before we announce the reopening of the House."
"And if we did?" Tsu Ma shook his head. "No, cousin. Too many people know of this already. Ministers and their assistants. Representatives and leading businessmen. To delay would have them question our determination. It would cause more problems than it would solve. No. Our path is set. We must grasp the reins and hold on for dear life!"
"So it is," Li Yuan said, acknowledging the truth of what Tsu Ma had said. Yet in the last day his reluctance had taken on a clear and solid form. It was as he'd said. Tolonen's discovery was like a warning. A sign of things to come. The step they were about to take—the changes to the Edict and the reopening of the House—were irrevocable. And while they might think they knew what would transpire, there was nothing in past experience to say for certain what would happen. From here on the future was unknowable, like a page from an unread book.
Once before the world had fallen into chaos. Once before . . .
He shuddered and turned away, staring out across the ancient lake toward the orchard. And as he looked, the image of a sprig of white blossom snagged in the darkness of his memory, then blew away, turning, turning in the wind.
"And that's all you heard?"
When Zdenek nodded, Tolonen sat back, his left hand placed flat against the desk, his right rubbing at his neck, metal against flesh. There was no doubt that Zdenek's report had disturbed him, but the old man's response was not quite what the bodyguard had anticipated. For a while he simply sat there, his granitelike face clouded, uncertain. Then, sniffing deeply, he shook his head.
"I don't know. I simply don't know."
There was a kind of precedent, of course. Once before Tolonen had interfered directly in his daughter's life. Then he had tried to marry her—against her will—to Klaus Ebert's son, the traitor, Hans. The old man had been wrong, and he knew it, but was that what was affecting him now? Or did he hesitate for another reason? After all, it seemed he rather liked the young man, Clayborn or no. Admired him—for as much as he could admire someone who wasn't a soldier. But was that important when the question was one of marriage to his daughter?
"You will keep this to yourself." .
It was command, not question. Zdenek bowed his head curtly, coming to attention again.
"Shall I continue to watch them, sir?"
Again Tolonen seemed in two minds. A bodyguard was necessary in these troubled times, but he had not foreseen the need for a chaperon. Zdenek had his own thoughts on the matter, but kept them to himself. It would have been impertinent of him to say more than he had already.
Tolonen was frowning, his top teeth pulling at his lower lip. Then, as if the indecision were too much for him, he stood and came around the desk, stopping an arm's length from where Zdenek stood, looking at him steadily.
"You will do as you have done in the past and no more. Understand?"
Zdenek parted his lips, as if to speak, then gave a curt nod. Tolonen was silent a moment, then spoke again, his voice softer than before.
"I'll admit that what you say makes me . . . uneasy. If her aunt were living still. . ."
Tolonen's voice trailed off. He turned away abruptly, going back around his desk. Seated again, he looked up at Zdenek.
"All right. That's all. And Zdenek . . . thank you."
ALONE AGAIN, Tolonen went and stood by the viewing wall, thinking things through. For a while he stared sightlessly away through the artificial landscape of trees and mountains, then turned and went back to his desk, his decision made. This time he would be subtler. Yes, he would let time be the cure of this.
Leaning forward, he spoke into the intercom, summoning his private secretary. The young equerry came into the room a moment later, coming to attention in the doorway, his head bowed.
"General?"
"Come in, lad. Close the door and come over. I want to ask you something."
The young soldier hesitated, then did as he was told, surprised by the unusually personal tone in the General's voice. "Sir?"
Tolonen smiled, indicating that he should take a chair. "At ease, lad. I need to pick your brains."
The equerry drew up a chair and sat. It was the first time in eight months' service with Tblonen that he had done so, and he sat up straight, as if at attention, his head held rigid.
"You come from a good family, Hauser," Tolonen began, smiling warmly at the young soldier. "Your uncle was a Major, was he not?"
The equerry nodded, then found his voice. "In the colonies, sir. And the mining satellites."
"And your eldest brother . . . he's there now, isn't he?"
"Yes, sir. On a five-year tour of duty."
"And does he like it out there?"
The young soldier smiled for the first time, relaxing. "He loves it, sir. Says it's beautiful out there."
Tolonen sat back, studying his equerry with some care. The young man sat up even stiffer than before, conscious of the Marshal's eyes on him.
"Have you ever thought of a colonies posting?"
The equerry looked down, his tongue touching his top teeth momentarily; a gesture Tolonen had noticed before.
"Well, lad?" he coaxed, more gently than before.
The young soldier met his eyes. "I do what is asked of me, sir. But. . . well, yes, I would welcome such a posting if the opportunity arose."
"And if it arose now?"
The young man allowed himself a smile. "Now, sir?"
Tolonen laughed. "Let me explain . . ."
IT WAS cold in the Dissecting Room, colder than Maryland in January, yet Old Man Lever stood there, bareheaded and without a jacket, staring down at the row of corpses laid out on the long slab. Nearby, Curval, the Chief Geneticist, stood watching him. The two men were alone in the room, the investigation team dismissed for the moment while the Old Man saw things for himself.