He looked at Spatz. "So you knew?" But he knew at once that neither Spatz nor Barycz was behind this. They were too dull-witted. There was no way either of them could have worked out what was going on. No, this was someone else. Someone much sharper than either of them. But who?
Spatz leaned forward, his sense of dignity struggling with his need to gloat.
"You thought you were being clever, didn't you, Ward? A regular little smart-ass. I bet you thought you were so superior, neh?" He laughed, then sat back, all humor drainin/g from his face. "For your part in this, you're under report, Hammond, from this moment. But you, Ward—you're out."
"Out?" Kim laughed. "Forgive me, Shih Spatz, but you can't do that. I'm Prince Yuan's appointment. Surely only he can say whether I'm out or not."
Spatz glanced at him disdainfully. "A formality. He'll have my recommendation, backed by the personnel file and the complaints of disruption filed against you by several staff members."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hammond start forward. "But you promised—"
Spatz interrupted Hammond, his face hard. "I promised nothing, if you recall. Now for the gods' sakes, hold your tongue! Even better, leave the room. You've served your purpose."
Hammond rose slowly. "I've served my purpose, eh? Too fucking right I have." He leaned forward, setting his hands firmly on the edge of the desk, facing the Director. As if sensing what he intended, Spatz drew the file toward him, then handed it to Ellis at his side.
"If you say another word—"
Hammond laughed, but his face was filled with loathing for the man in front of him. "Oh, I've nothing more to say, Director Spatz. Just this . . ."
He drew his head back and spat powerfully, cleanly, catching Spatz in the center of his face.
Spatz cried out, rubbing at his face with the sleeve of his gown; then, realizing what he had done, he swore.
"You bastard, Hammond! My silks . . ."
Spatz stood, his face livid with anger, his hands trembling.
"Get out! Get your things and be gone! As from this moment you're off the Project."
For a moment longer, Hammond stood there, glaring at him, then he moved back, a tiny shudder passing through him.
"Joel, I ..." Kim began, reaching out to him, but Hammond stepped back, looking about him, as if coming to from a bad dream.
"No. It's fine, Kim. Really it is. I'll survive. The Net can't be worse than this. At least I won't have to pawn myself every day to hsiao jen like this pig-brained cretin here!"
Spatz trembled with rage. "Guards!" he yelled. "Get the guards here, now!" Hammond laughed. "Don't bother, I'm going. But fuck you, Spatz. Fuck you to hell. I hope Prince Yuan has your ass for what you're trying to do here today." He I turned, then bent down, embracing Kim. "Good luck, Kim," he whispered. "I'm |
sorry. Truly I am."
Kim held him out at arm's length. "It's all right. I understand. You're a good man, |
Joel Hammond. A good man."
He stood, watching him go, then turned back, facing Spatz.
"So what now?"
Spatz ignored him, leaning forward to talk into the intercom. "Send in the nurse. We're ready now."
Kim looked at Ellis; saw how the man refused to meet his eyes. Then at Barycz. Barycz was pretending to study the chart on the wall behind Spatz.
"Prince Yuan will ask about me," Kim said. "He's certain to."
Spatz smiled coldly. "Of course he will. But you won't be there, will you?"
He heard the door open, the nurse come in.
"And then he'll ask why I'm not there—" he began, but the words were choked off. He felt the hypodermic-gun pressed against his neck and tried to squirm away, struggling against the strong hand that held his shoulder; but it was too late.
The hand released him. Slumping down into the chair, he felt a fiery cold spreading through his veins, leaving him numb, his nerve ends frozen. "I-wb . . ." he said, his eyes glazing. "I-jibw . . ." Then he fell forward, scattering the sheaf of poems across the floor beside him.
LI YUAN stepped down from his craft and sighed, looking about him. The roof of the City stretched away from him like a vast field of snow, empty but for the small group of officials who were gathered, heads bowed, beside the open hatchway.
He looked north to where the City ended abruptly on the shores of the icy Baltic, then turned to smile at his personal secretary, Chang Shih-sen.
"Have you ever seen it when the cloud is low, Chang? The cloud seems to spill from the City's edge like water over a fall. But slowly, very slowly, as in a dream."
"I have never seen that, my Lord, but I should imagine it was beautiful."
Li Yuan nodded. "Very beautiful. I saw it once at sunset. All the colors of the sky seemed captured in those endless folds of whiteness."
Chang Shih-sen nodded, then, softly, mindful of his place, added, "They are waiting, my Lord."
Li Yuan looked back at him and smiled. "Let them wait. The day is beautiful. Besides, I wish a moment to myself before I join them."
"My Lord . . ." Chang backed away, bowing.
Li Yuan turned, moving out from the shadow of the craft into the mid-afternoon sunlight. Chang was a good man. Kind, hard-working, thoughtful. But his father's Master of the Inner Palace, Wang Ta Chuan, had been the same. It made one think. When the fate of so many were in one person's hands, who could one trust?
He took a deep breath, enjoying the freshness, the warmth of the sunlight on his arms and back. Last night, for the first time since he had married Fei Yen, he had summoned a woman to his bed—one of the serving girls from the kitchens— purging himself of the need that had raged in his blood like a poison. Now he was himself again.
Or almost himself. For he would never again be wholly as he was. Fei Yen had changed that.
Who was it? he wondered for the thousandth time. Who slept with you whik I was gone? Was it one of my servants? Or was it someone you knew before our time together?
He huffed out his sudden irritation. It was no good dwelling on it. Madness lay that way. No, best set such thoughts aside, lest he find himself thinking of nothing else.
And what use would I then be to my father?
He shivered, then, calming himself, turned back, summoning Chang.
"Is this all?"
Spatz, stood before the seated Prince, bowed his head. "I am afraid so, my Lord. But you must understand—I have been working under the most severe restraints."
Li Yuan looked up, his disappointment clear. "Just what do you mean, Director?"
Spatz kept his head lowered, not meeting the Prince's eyes. "To begin with, I have been effectively two short on my team throughout my time here."
Li Yuan leaned forward. "I do not understand you, Director. There is no mention in your report of such a thing."
"Forgive me, my Lord, but the matter I am referring to is in the second file. I felt it best to keep the main report to matters of—of science, let us say."
The Prince sat back, irritated by the man's manner. If he'd had his way, Spatz would have been replaced as Director, but Spatz was his father's appointment, like Tolonen.
He set the top file aside, then opened the second one. It was a personnel report on the boy, Ward.
Li Yuan looked up, surprised. Could Spatz have known? No. He couldn't possibly have known about Kim and the special projects. But that, too, had been a disappointment. After the first report he had heard nothing from the boy. Nothing for ten months. At first he had assumed that it was taking much longer than the boy had estimated or that his work on the Project was taking up his time, but this explained it all.
He read it through, then looked up again, shaking his head. The boy had been at best lethargic, uncooperative, at worst disruptive to the point of actual physical violence.
"Why was I not told of this before now?"
Spatz hesitated. "I. . .1 wished to be charitable to the boy, my Lord. To give him every chance to change his ways and prove himself. I was conscious of his importance to you. Of your special interest. So—"