"Forgive me, Captain Scott. I must deal with this matter rather urgently. But thank you. I appreciate your prompt action. I'll see that you do not go unrewarded for your help."
Scott bowed and left, leaving Ebert alone. For a moment he sat, steeling himself, then leaned forward.
"Patch Shih Beattie through."
He sat back, watching as the screen containing DeVore's face tilted up from the desk's surface, facing him. He had never seen DeVore so angry. "What the fuck are you up to, Hans?"
Ebert shook his head. "I heard only five minutes ago. Believe me, Howard." "Crap! You must have known something was going on. You've got your finger on the pulse, haven't you?"
Ebert swallowed back his anger. "It wasn't me, Howard. I can prove it wasn't. And I didn't know a fucking thing until just now. All right? Look . . ." He held up the file, turning the opening page so that it faced the screen. DeVore was silent a moment, reading, then he swore.
"You see?" Ebert said, glad for once that Scott had acted on his own initiative. "Tolonen ordered it. Karr carried it out. Tsu Ma's troops were used. I was never, at any stage, involved."
DeVore nodded. "All right. But why? Have you asked yourself that yet, Hans? Why were you excluded from this?"
Ebert frowned. He hadn't considered it. He had just assumed that they had done it because he was so busy preparing to take over the generalship. But now that he thought about it, it was odd. Very odd indeed. Tolonen, at the very least, ought to have let him know that something was going on. "Do you think they suspect some kind of link?"
DeVore shook his head. "Tolonen would not have recommended you, and Li Yuan certainly wouldn't have appointed you. No, this has to do with Karr. I'm told his men were poking about the villages recently. I was going to deal with that, but they've preempted me." "So what do we do?"
DeVore laughed. "That's very simple. You'll be General in a day or so. Karr, instead of being your equal, will be your subordinate."
Ebert shook his head. "That's not strictly true. Karr is Tolonen's man. He always was. He took a direct oath to the old man when he joined Security eleven years ago. He's only technically in my command."
"Then what about that friend of his. Kao Chen? Can't you start court-martial proceedings against him?"
Ebert shook his head, confused. "Why? What will that achieve?"
"They're close. Very close, so I've heard. If you can't get at Karr, attack his friends. Isolate him. I'm sure you can rig up enough evidence to convict the Han. You've got friends who would lie for you, haven't you, Hans?"
Hans laughed. More than enough. Even so, he wasn't sure he wanted to take on Karr. Not just yet.
"Isn't there an alternative?"
"Yes. You might have Karr killed. And Tolonen, too, while you're at it."
"Kill Tolonen?" Ebert sat forward, startled by the suggestion. "But he's virtually my father-in-law!"
"So? He's dangerous. Can't you see that, Hans? He almost had me killed last night. And where would we have been then, eh? Besides, what if he discovers the link between us? No, Hans, this is no time to play Shih Conscience. If you don't have him killed, I will."
Ebert sat back, a look of sour resignation on his face. "All right. I take your point. Leave it with me."
"Good. And Hans . . . congratulations. You'll make a good General. A very good General."
Ebert sat there afterward, thinking back on what had been said between them. To kill Karr; he could think of nothing more satisfying or—when he considered it—more difficult. In contrast, having Tolonen killed would be all too easy, for the old man trusted him implicitly.
He understood DeVore's anger—understood and even agreed with the reasons he had given—yet the thought of killing the old man disturbed him. Oh, he had cursed the old man often enough for a fool, but he had never been treated badly by him. No, Tolonen had been like a father to him these past years. More of a father than his own. At some level he rather liked the old dog. Besides, how could he marry Jelka, knowing he had murdered her father?
He stood, combing his fingers back through his hair, then came out from behind his desk.
And yet, if he didn't, DeVore would. And that would place him at a disadvantage in his dealings with the Major. Would place him in his debt. He laughed bitterly. In reality there was no choice at all. He had to have Tolonen killed. To keep the upper hand. And to demonstrate to DeVore that, when it came to these matters, he had the steel in him to carry through such schemes.
He paused, contemplating the map. Beginning tomorrow, all this was his domain. Across this huge continent he was the arbiter, the final word, speaking with the T'ang's tongue. Like a prince, trying out the role before it became his own. There was a tapping on the door behind him. He turned. "Come!" It was the Chancellor, Chung Hu-yan. "What is it, Chung? You look worried."
Chung held out a sheaf of papers to him, the great seal of the T'ang of Europe appended to the last of them. "What are these?"
Chung shook his head, clearly flustered. "They are my orders for the coronation ceremony tomorrow, Major Ebert. They outline the protocol I am to follow."
Ebert frowned. "So what's the problem? You follow protocol. What is unusual in that?"
"Look!" Chung tapped the first sheet. "Look at what he wants them all to do." Ebert read the passage Chung was indicating, then looked up at him, wide-eyed. "He wants them to do that?"
Chung nodded vigorously. "I tried to see him, this morning, but he is not at the palace. And the rehearsal is to be in an hour. What shall I do, Major Ebert? Everyone who is to be there tomorrow is attending—the very cream of the Above. They are bound to feel affronted by these demands. Why, they might even refuse." Ebert nodded. It was a distinct possibility. Such a ritual had not been heard of since the tyrant Tsao Ch'un's time, and he had modeled it upon the worst excesses of the Ch'ing dynasty—the Manchu.
"I feel for you, Chung Hu-yan, but we are our masters' hands, neh? And the T'ang's seal is on that document. My advice to you is to follow it to the letter." Chung Hu-yan stared at the sheaf of papers a moment longer, then quickly furled them and with a bow to Ebert, turned, hurrying away. Ebert watched him go, amused by how ruffled the normally implacable Chancellor was. Even so, he had to admit to a small element of unease on his own account. What Li Yuan was asking for was a radical departure from the traditional ceremony and there was bound to be resentment, even open opposition. It would be interesting to see how he dealt with that. Very interesting indeed.
THE BIG man mounted the steps, pressing his face close to the Chancellor's, ignoring the guards who hurried to intercede.
"Never!" he said, his voice loud enough to carry to the back of the packed hall. "I'd as soon cut off my own bollocks as agree to that!"
There was laughter at that, but also a fierce murmur of agreement. They had been astonished when Chung Hu-yan had first read Li Yuan's instructions to them. Now their astonishment had turned to outrage.
Chung Hu-yan waved the guards back, then began again. "Your T'ang instructs you—" but his words were drowned out by a roar of disapproval.
"Instructs us?" the big man said, turning now, looking back into the hall. "By what right does he instruct us?"
"You must do as you are told," Chung Hu-yan began again, his voice quavering. "These are the T'ang's orders."
The man shook his head. "It is unjust. We are not hsiaojen—little men. We are the masters of this great City. It is not right to try to humiliate us in this manner."
Once more a great roar of support came from the packed hall. Chung Hu-yan shook his head. This was not his doing! Not his doing at all! Even so, he would persist.
"You must step down, Shih Tarrant. These are the T'ang's own instructions.
Would you disobey them?"
Tarrant puffed out his huge chest. "YouVe heard what I have to say, Chancellor Chung. I'll not place my neck beneath any man's foot, T'ang or no. Nor will anyone in this room, I warrant. It is asking too much of us. Too much by far!"