For the first time she smiled. "They are-nice, aren't they? I've often commented how pleasant it is to serve ch'a from such bowls. They have—yu ya, no?"
Karr laughed softly, clearly delighted. "Deep elegance. Yes . . ." He sat back, appraising her more closely. "You know a great deal, Fu Jen . . . ?"
Again she lowered her eyes, a faint color coming to her neck and cheeks. "I had a good teacher. And it is Hsiao Chieh Enge, not Fu Jen. I am not married, you understand?"
Karr's smile faded momentarily. "Ah . . . forgive me." He sat forward slightly. "Anyway, I thank you again, Hsiao Chieh Enge. As I said, it is very pleasing to be served by one who knows so much about the great art of ch'a shw."
She bowed one final time, and turned to go. Then, as if changing her mind, she turned back, leaning closer to Karr. "And if it is not too forward, ch'un tzu, you might call me Marie. It is how I am known here in these levels. Ask for Marie. Anyone will know me."
Chen watched her go, then turned, looking back at Karr. The big man was still watching her, staring across where she was preparing her next order.
"You like her, Gregor?"
Karr looked back at him almost blankly, then gave a brief laugh. "I think we have our contact, Chen. What did she say? Anyone will know me. And likewise, she will know anyone, neh?" He raised one eyebrow.
Chen was smiling. "You didn't answer me, Gregor. You like her, don't you?"
Karr stared back at him a moment longer, then shrugged and looked away. As he did so, a commotion started up behind them, at the ch'a counter.
Chen turned to look. There were three men—Han, dressed in dark silks with blood-red headbands about their foreheads. He glanced at Karr knowingly, then looked back.
"Triad men," he said quietly. "But what are they doing up this high?"
Karr shook his head. "Things are changing, Chen. They've been spreading their net higher and higher these last few years. The unrest has been their making."
"Even so . . ." He shook his head, angered by what he saw.
Karr reached out and held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "Remember why we're here. We can't afford to get involved."
One of them was shouting at the men behind the counter now—a stream of threats and curses in Kuo'yu, Mandarin—while the two behind him looked about them threateningly. It was a classic piece of Triad mischief, an attempt to unsettle the owners of the Dragon Cloud before they moved in in force.
"I'd like to kick their asses out of here," Chen said beneath his breath.
Karr smiled. "It would be fun, neh? But not now. After the boy's found, maybe. We'll find out who's behind it and pay them a visit, neh? In force."
Chen looked at him and smiled. "That would be good."
"In the meantime . . ." Karr stopped, then leaned forward, his eyes suddenly narrowed.
Chen turned and looked across. The leader of the three was still shouting, but now his curses were directed at the woman who was confronting him. Chen stood up, a cry coming to his lips as he saw the bright flash of a knife being drawn.
This time Karr made no attempt to stop him. Rather, Karr was ahead of him, moving quickly between the tables.
Chen saw the knife describe an arc through the air and felt himself flinch. But then the Triad thug was falling backward, the knife spinning away harmlessly through the air. A moment later he saw the second of the men go down with a sharp groan, clutching his balls. The third turned and began to run, but the woman was on him like a tigress, pulling him backward by his hair, her hand chopping down viciously at his chest.
Chen pulled up sharply, almost thudding into Karr, who stood there, his hands clenched at his sides, his great chest rising and falling heavily as he stared down at the three prone gangsters.
The woman turned, meeting Karr's eyes briefly, her own eyes wide, her whole body tensed as if to meet some other threat; then she turned away, a faint shudder passing through her, letting her co-workers carry the three men off.
Karr hesitated a moment, then went after her. He caught up with her on the far side of the teahouse, in an area that was roped off for the staff's use only.
She turned, seeing he was following her, and frowned, looking down. "What do you want?"
Karr shook his head. "That was . . . astonishing. I..." He shrugged and opened his hands. "I meant to help you, but you didn't need any help, did you?" He laughed strangely. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
Again she looked at him, almost resentful now, a reaction to the fight beginning to set in. He could see that her hands were trembling faintly and remembered how that felt. He nodded, feeling a mounting respect for her.
"I've never seen a woman fight like that," he began again.
"Look," she said, suddenly angry. "What do you want?"
"I'm looking for someone," he said, trusting her, knowing that she had acted from more than self-interest. "My nephew. He had an accident, you see, and he ran away. He can't remember who he is, but I know he's here somewhere. I tracked him down here, but now he's disappeared."
She stared at him a long while, then shrugged. "So what's that to do with me?"
He swallowed, conscious that others were listening, then pressed on. "It's just that you might be able to help me. You know these levels. Know the people. If anything odd happened, you'd know about it, neh?"
She gave a grudging nod. "I guess so."
"Well, then. You'll help me, neh? He's my dead brother's son and he means a great deal to me. I. . ."
He looked down, as if unable to go on, then felt her move closer.
"All right," she said quietly, touching his arm. "I'll help. I'll listen out for you."
He looked up, meeting her eyes. "Thanks. My name's Karr. Gregor Karr."
She looked back at him a moment longer, then smiled. "Well. . . you'd best get back to your ch'a, Gregor Karr. Hsiang p'ien tastes awful when it's cold."
AS before, the old man was slow coming to the door, but this time she was ready for him. This time when he slid the door back, she moved toward him, as if expecting him to let her pass, beginning to tell him about the incident at the Dragon Cloud, the wicker basket of leftovers from the teahouse held out before her.
It almost worked, almost got her into the room; but then, unexpectedly, she found herself blocked.
"I am sorry, Marie, but you cannot stay. It would benefit neither of us to have our session now."
She turned her head, staring at him, noting how he looked down rather than meet her eyes, and knew at once that he was lying to her. It came as a shock, but it was also confirmation of the feeling she had had back at the restaurant when the man Karr had spoken to her.
The boy was here. She knew he was. But what was Tuan Ti Fo up to?
"Forgive me," he was saying, the gentle pressure of his hand forcing her slowly back, "but I am in the worst of humors, Marie. And when a man is in an ill humor he is fit company only for himself, neh?"
The faint, apologetic smile was more like the old Tuan Ti Fo.
She tried to look past him, but it was almost impossible to see what or who was in the room beyond. Stalling for time, she pushed the basket at him.
"You will at least take these, Master Tuan. You must eat, after all, bad humor or no."
He looked down at the basket, then up at her, smiling. "I am extremely grateful, Marie, and yes, I would be a foolish old man indeed if I did not welcome your gift."
The small bow he made was all she needed. For that brief moment she could see the room beyond him and there, jutting out from what seemed at first glance to be a pillow beneath the blanket, the naked foot of a youth.
She shivered; then, backing away a step, returned Tuan Ti Fo's bow.
"Tomorrow," he said. "When the mood has passed."
"Tomorrow," she said, watching the door slide shut again. Then, turning away, she began to make her way back to her apartment, confused, a dark uncertainty at the core of her.