"What is it?" she asked, looking back at him as if forcing herself to meet his eyes. Again he smiled.
"I'm sorry, Jelka, but I have to go. Things are in flux and the new T'ang has asked for me. But please . . . our home is yours. Make yourself comfortable. My mui tsai, Sweet Flute, will be here in a while to look after you."
She stared back at him a moment, her lips slightly parted, then gave a small bow of her head. "And my father?"
"He feels it best that you stay here for the moment. As I said, things are in flux and there are rumors of rioting in the lower levels. If it spreads ..."
She nodded, then turned away, looking across at the ancient pomegranate trees, flicking her fan open as she did so. It was a strange, almost nervous gesture and for a moment he wondered what it meant. Then, bowing low, he turned to go. But he had gone only a few paces when she called to him.
"Hans?"
He turned, pleased that she had used his name. "Yes?"
"Will you be General now?"
He took a long breath and shrugged. "If the new T'ang wishes it. Why?"
She made a small motion of her head, then looked down. "I... I just wondered, that's all."
"Ah . . ." He stood there a moment longer, watching her, then turned and made his way back along the path toward the house. And if he were? Well, maybe it would be a reason for bringing his marriage forward. After all, a General ought to have a wife, a family, oughtn't he? He grinned and spurred himself on, mounting the steps two at a time. Yes. He would speak to Tolonen about it later.
SHE STOOD there after he was gone, her eyes following the slow swirl of a mulberry leaf as it drifted on the artificial current.
So the boy Kim was alive. But how had she known?
She shivered and turned, hearing footsteps on the pathway. It was a young woman, a girl little older than herself. The mui tsai.
The girl came closer, then stopped, bowing low, her hands folded before her. "Excuse me, Hsiao Chi, but my Master asked me to see to your every wish."
Jelka turned, smiling at the girl's use of Hsiao Chi—Lady—to one clearly no older than herself. But it was obvious that the girl was only trying to be respectful.
"Thank you, Sweet Flute, but I wish only to wait here until my father comes."
The mui tsai glanced up at her, then averted her eyes again. "With respect, Hsiao Chi, I understand that that might be some while. Would you not welcome some refreshments while you wait? Or perhaps I could summon the musicians. There is a pavilion ..."
Jelka smiled again, warmed by the girl's manner. Even so, she wanted to be left alone. The matter with the boy disturbed her. The preliminary search of the levels below the Project had found no trace of him.
She sighed, then gave a tiny laugh. "All right, Sweet Flute. Bring me a drink. A cordial. But no musicians. The birds sing sweetly enough for me. And I do wish to be left alone. Until my father comes."
The mui tsai bowed. "As you wish, Hsiao Chi."
Jelka looked about her, letting herself relax for the first time since she had heard of the attack on the Project, drinking in the harmony of the garden. Then she stiffened again.
From the far side of the gardens came a strange, high-pitched keening, like the sound of an animal in pain. For almost a minute it continued, and then it stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
What in the gods' names?
She hurried across the bridge and down the path, then climbed the wooden steps up onto the terrace. It had come from here, she was sure of it.
She paused, hearing the low murmur of male voices from the doorway just ahead of her. Slowly, step by step, she crept along the terrace until she stood there, looking in.
There were four of them, dressed in the pale-green uniforms of the Ebert household. In the midst of them, a gag tied tightly about her mouth, was a woman. A Han woman in her early twenties.
Jelka watched, astonished, as the woman kicked out wildly and threw herself about, trying to escape her captives, her face dark, contorted. But there was no escaping. As Jelka watched, the men subdued her, forcing her into a padded jacket, the overlong arms of which they fastened at the back.
Shuddering with indignation, she stepped inside. "Stop it! Stop it at once!"
The men turned, disconcerted by her sudden appearance, the woman in their midst suddenly forgotten. She fell and lay there on the floor, her legs kicking impotently.
Jelka took another step, her whole body trembling with the anger she felt. "What in the gods' names do you think you're doing?"
They backed away as she came on, bowing abjectly.
"Forgive us, Mistress Tolonen," one of them said, recognizing her, "but we are only acting on our Master's orders."
She looked at the man witheringly, then shook her head. "Unbind her. Unbind her at once."
"But, Mistress, you don't understand-—"
"Quiet, man!" she barked, the strength in her voice surprising him. He fell to his knees, head bowed, and stayed there, silent. She shivered, then looked to the others. "Well? Must I ask you again?"
There was a quick exchange of glances, then the men did as she said, unbinding the woman and stepping back, as if afraid of the consequences. But the woman merely rolled over and sat up, easing the jacket from her, calm now, the fit—if that was what it had been—gone from her.
"Good," Jelka said, not looking at them, her attention fixed upon the strange woman. "Now go. I wish to be alone with the woman."
"But, Mistress—"
"Go!"
There was no hesitation this time. Bowing furiously, the four men departed. She could hear the dull murmur of their voices outside, then nothing. She was alone with the woman.
Jelka went to her and knelt, letting her hand rest on the woman's arm. "What is it?"
The woman looked up at her. She was pretty. Very pretty. In some ways more like a child than Jelka herself. "What's your name?" Jelka asked, touched by the expression of innocence in the woman's eyes.
"My baby . . ." the woman said, looking past Jelka distractedly. "Where's my baby?"
Jelka turned, looking about the room, then saw it. A cot, there, on the far side of the room. And as she saw, she heard it—a strange, persistent snuffling.
"There," she said gently. "Your baby's there."
She stood to one side as the woman got up, and casting the straitjacket aside, went across to the cot, bending down over it to lift and cradle the child. "There, there . . ." she heard her say, a mother's softness in her voice. "There, they'll not harm you. I'll see to that, my little darling. Mumma's here now. Mumma's here."
Jelka felt a ripple of relief pass through her. But she was still angry. Angry with Hans, if it really was he who had given the order to subdue the woman. He had no right to torment the woman. She went across, touching the woman's back.
"Let me see ..."
The woman turned, smiling, offering the child. A small, helpless little bundle, that snuffled and snuffled ...
Jelka felt herself go cold, then stepped back, shaking her head, her mouth suddenly dry, appalled by what she saw. "No . . ."
It stared up at her, red-eyed, its pink face too thin to be human, the hair that sprouted indiscriminately from its flesh too coarse, despite the silks in which it was wrapped. As she stared at it, one tiny three-toed hand pushed out at her, as if to grasp her hand. She jerked away, feeling the bile rise in her throat.
"Golden Heart!" The voice came from the doorway behind her. "Put that dreadful thing away, right now! What in the gods' names do you think you're doing?"
It was the mui tsai, Sweet Flute. She came into the room, putting the drink down on the table, then went across to the woman, taking the bundle from her and setting it back in the cot.