There were smiles at that. It had been some time since they had had the chance for such indulgences. Wu Shih turned, leading them along the long, the covered walkway, then up a twist of wooden steps and out onto a broad gallery above a concealed lake.
A low wooden balustrade was raised on pillars above a tangle of sculpted rock, forming a square about the circle of the lake, the wood painted bright red, the pictogram for immortality cut into it in a repeated pattern. The broad, richly green leaves of lotus choked the water, while in a thatched ting on the far side of the lake, a group of musicians began to play, the ancient sound drifting across to where the Seven sat.
Li Shai Tung sat back in his chair, looking about him at his fellow T'ang. For the first time in months the cloud had lifted from his spirits, the tightness in his stomach vanished. And he was not alone, he could see that now. They all seemed brighter, refreshed and strengthened by the morning's events. So it was. So it had to be. He had not realized how important it was before now; had not understood how much their strength depended on their being of a single mind. And now that Wang Sau-leyan had come to his senses they would be strong again. It was only a matter of will.
He looked across at the young T'ang of Africa, and smiled. "I am grateful for your support, Cousin Wang. If there is something I might do for you in return?"
Wang Sau-leyan smiled and looked about him, his broad face momentarily the image of his father's when he was younger; then he looked down. It was a gesture of considerable modesty. "In the present circumstances it is enough that we help each other, neh?" He looked up, meeting Li Shai Tung's eyes. "I am a proud man, Li Shai Tung, but not too proud to admit it when I have been wrong—and I was wrong about the threat from the Ping Tiao. If my offer helps make amends I am satisfied."
Li Shai Tung looked about him, a smile of intense satisfaction lighting his face. He turned back to the young T'ang, nodding. "Your kind words refresh me, Cousin Wang. There is great wisdom in knowing when one is wrong. Indeed, I have heard it called the first step on the path to true benevolence."
Wang Sau'leyan lowered his head but said nothing. For a while they were quiet, listening to the ancient music. Servants moved among them, serving ch'a and sweetmeats, their pale-green silks blending with the colors of the garden.
"Beautiful," said Tsu Ma, when it had finished. There was a strange wistfulness to his expression. "It is some time since I heard that last piece played so well."
"Indeed—" began Wu Shih, then stopped, turning as his Chancellor appeared at the far end of the gallery. "Come, Fen," he said, signaling him to come closer. "What is it?"
Fen Cho-hsien stopped some paces from his T'ang, bowing to each of the other T'ang in turn before facing his master again and bowing low. "I would not have bothered you, Chieh Hsia, but an urgent message has just arrived. It seems that Lord Li's General has been taken ill."
Li Shai Tung leaned forward anxiously. "Nocenzi, ill? What in the gods' names is wrong with him?"
Fen turned, facing Li Shai Tung, lowering his eyes. "Forgive me, Chieh Hsia, but no one seems to know. It seems, however, that he is extremely ill. And not just him, but his wife and children too. Indeed, if the report is accurate, his wife is already dead, and two of his children."
Li Shai Tung looked down, groaning softly. Gods, was there no end to this? He looked up again, tears in his eyes, the tightness returned to his stomach.
"You will forgive me, cousins, if I return at once?"
There was a murmur of sympathy. All eyes were on the old T'ang, noting his sudden frailty, the way his shoulders hunched forward at this latest calamity. But it was Wang Sau-leyan who rose and helped him from his chair, who walked with him, his arm about his shoulder, to the steps.
Li Shai Tung turned, looking up into the young T'ang's face, holding his arm briefly, gratefully. "Thank you, Sau-leyan. You are your father's son." Then he turned back, going down the twist of steps, letting Wu Shih's Chancellor lead him, head bowed, back down Wall Street to the dragon steps and his waiting craft.
KIM woke and lay there in the darkness, strangely alert, listening. For a moment he didn't understand. There was nothing. Nothing at all. Then he shivered. Of course. . . that was it. The silence was too perfect. There was always some noise or other from the corridors outside, but just now there was nothing.
He sat up, then threw back the sheet. For a moment he paused, stretching, working the last traces of the drug from his limbs, then crouched, listening again.
Nothing.
He crossed the room and stood by the door, his mind running through possibilities. Maybe they had moved him. Or maybe they had closed down the Project and abandoned him. Left him to his fate. But he was not satisfied with either explanation. He reached out, trying the lock.
The door hissed back. Outside, the corridor was dark, empty. Only at the far end was there a light. On the wall outside the guard room.
He shivered, the hairs on his neck and back rising. The overhead cameras were dead, the red wink of their operational lights switched off. And at the far end of the corridor, beyond the wall-mounted lamp, the door to the Project was open, the barrier up.
Something was wrong.
He stood there a moment, not certain what to do, then let instinct take over. Turning to his left, he ran, making for T'ai Cho's room and the labs beyond, hoping it wasn't too late.
T'ai Cho's room was empty. Kim turned, tensing, hearing the soft murmur of voices further along the corridor, then relaxed. They were voices he knew. He hurried toward them, then slowed. The door to the labs was wide open, as if it had been jammed. That, too, was wrong. It was supposed to be closed when not in use, on a time-lock.
He twirled about, looking back down the dimly lit corridor. The few wall lights that were working were backups. Emergency lighting only. The main power system must have gone down. But was that an accident? Or had it been done deliberately? He stepped inside, cautious now, glancing across to his right where Spatz's office was. He could see the Director through the open doorway, cursing, pounding the keyboard on his desk computer, trying to get some response from it. As he watched, Spatz tried the emergency phone, then threw the handset down angrily.
Then maybe it had just happened. Maybe the shutdown had been what had wakened him.
He ducked low and scuttled across the open space between the door and the first row of desks, hoping Spatz wouldn't catch a glimpse of him, then ran along the corridor between the desks until he came to the end. The main labs were to the left, the voices louder now. He could hear T'ai Cho's among them.
He hesitated, turning his head, staring back the way he'd come, but the corridor was empty. He went on, coming out into the labs.
They were seated on the far side, some in chairs, some leaning on the desk. All of them were there except Hammond. They looked around as he entered, their talk faltering.
"Kim!" T'ai Cho said, getting up.
Kim put up his hand, as if to fend off his friend. "You've got to get out! Now! Something's wrong!"
Ellis, the Director's Assistant, smiled and shook his head. "It's all right, Kim. It's only a power failure. Spatz has gone to sort things out."
Kim looked about him. A few of them were vaguely uneasy, but nothing more. It was clear they agreed with Ellis.
"No!" he said, trying to keep the panic from his voice. "It's more than that. The guards have gone and all the doors are jammed open. Can't you see what that means? We've got to get out! Something's going to happen!"
Ellis stood up. "Are you sure? The guards really aren't there?"
Kim nodded urgently. He could feel the tension like a coil in him; could feel responses waking in him that he hadn't felt since—well, since they'd tried to reconstruct him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his blood coursing like a dark, hot tide in his veins. And above all he could feel all his senses heightened by the danger they were in. It was as if he could hear and see, smell and taste better than before.