"The ruins?"
"Yes, there's a castle ... or at least the remains of one. It's on the other side of the mountain from the base. There's an old system of tunnels beneath it. The Man used them when he built the base. Linked up to them."
"Ah . . ." The light of understanding dawned in Karr's eyes. "But why did you go there?"
"Because Lehmann had a hunch. He thought DeVore might be there, in the old tunnel."
"And was he?"
"Yes."
Karr looked at Chen. It was as he'd said. But now they knew for sure. DeVore had got out: he was loose in the world to do his mischief.
"Do you know where he is?"
Reid shook his head.
"So why are you here? What do you want?"
Reid looked aside. "I was . . . afraid. Things were getting desperate out there. Out of hand. DeVore, Lehmann . . . they're not people you can cross."
"And yet you're here. Why?"
"Because I'd had enough. And because I felt that you, if anyone, could protect me."
"And why should I do that?"
"Because I know things. Know where the other bases are."
Karr sat back, astonished. Other bases . . . "But I thought—" He checked himself and looked at Chen, seeing his own surprise mirrored back at him. They had stumbled onto the Landek base by complete chance in the course of their sweep of the Wilds, alerted by its heat-emission patterns. They had blessed their luck, but never for an instant had they thought there would be others. They assumed all along that DeVore was working on a smaller scale: that he'd kept his organization much tighter.
This changed things. Changed them dramatically.
Reid was watching Karr. "I know how things are organized out there. I was in charge of several things in my time. I've pieced things together in my head. I know where their weak spots are."
"And you'll tell us all of this in return for your safety?"
Reid nodded. "That and ten million yuan."
Karr sat back. "I could have you tortured. Could wring the truth from you."
"You could. But then, Ebert might come to know about it, mightn't he? And that would spoil things for you. I understand he's already instigated a special investigation into your activities."
Karr jerked forward, grimacing, the pain from his shoulder suddenly intense. "How do you know this?"
Reid smiled, amused by the effect his words had had. "I overheard it. The Man was speaking to Ebert. It seems the new General plans a purge of his ranks. And you and your friend Kao Chen are top of the list."
"But ten million. Where would I get hold of ten million yuan7."
Reid shrugged. "That's your problem. But until you agree to my terms I'm telling you nothing. And the longer you wait, the more likely it is that Ebert will close you d,, own.
Chen broke his silence. "And what good would that do you, Shih Reid?"
Reid turned, facing Chen. "The way I figure it, Kao Chen, is that either I'm dead or I'm safe and very, very rich. It's the kind of choice I understand. The kind of risk I'm willing to take. But how about you? You've got children, Kao Chen. Can you look at things so clearly?"
Chen blanched, surprised that Reid knew so much. It implied that DeVore had files on them alclass="underline" files that Ebert, doubtlessly, had provided. It was a daunting thought. The possibility of Wang Ti and the children being threatened by DeVore made him go cold. He looked past Reid at Karr.
"Gregor . . ."
Karr nodded and looked back at Reid, his expression hard. "I'll find the money, Shih Reid. I give you my word. You'll have it by this evening. But you must tell me what you know. Now. While I can still act on it. Otherwise my word won't be worth a dead whore's coonie."
Reid hesitated, then nodded. "All right. Get me a detailed map of the Wilds. I'll mark where the bases are. And then we'll talk. I'll tell you a story. About a young General and an ex-Major, and about a meeting the two had at an old skiing lodge a year ago."
LI YU AN s AT in his chair in the old study at Tongjiang, the package on the desk before him. He looked about him, remembering. Here he had learned what it was to shoulder responsibility, to busy himself with matters of State. Here he had toiled—acting as his father's hands—until late into the night, untangling the knotted thread of events to find solutions to his father's problems.
And now those problems were his. He looked down at the package and sighed.
He turned, looking across at the big communications screen. "Connect me with Wu Shih," he said, not even glancing at the overhead camera. "Tell him I have something urgent to discuss."
There was a short delay and then the screen lit up, the T'ang of North America's face filling the screen, ten times life size.
"Cousin Yuan. I hope you are well. And congratulations. How are your wives?"
"They are wives, Wu Shih. But listen. I have been considering that matter we talked about and I believe I have a solution."
Wu Shih raised his eyebrows. Some weeks before, his Security sources had discovered the existence of a new popular movement, "The Sons of Benjamin Franklin." Thus far there was nothing to link them to anything even resembling a plot against the Seven, nor could any acts of violence or incitement be laid at their door. In that respect they kept scrupulously within the letter of the law. However, the mere existence of such a secret society—harking, as its name implied, back to a forbidden past—was cause for grave concern. In other circumstances he might simply have rounded up the most prominent figures and demoted them. But these were no ordinary hotheads. The "Sons" were, without exception, the heirs to some of the biggest companies in North America. Wu Shih's problem was how to curtail their activities without alienating their powerful and influential fathers. It was a tricky problem, made worse by the fact that because no crime had been committed, there was no pretext upon which he might act. "A solution, Li Yuan? What kind of solution?"
"I have sent someone into your City, Wu Shih. As my envoy, you might say, though he himself does not know it."
Wu Shih frowned and sat forward slightly, his image breaking up momentarily, then re-forming clearly. "An envoy?"
Li Yuan explained. Afterward Wu Shih sat back, considering. "I see. But why do you think this will work?"
"There is no guarantee that it will, but if it fails we have lost nothing, neh?" Wu Shih smiled. "That sounds reasonable enough." "And you will look after the boy for me?" "Like my own son, Li Yuan."
"Good. Then I must leave you, Wu Shih. There is much to do before this evening."
Wu Shih laughed. "And much to do tonight, neh?"
There was a momentary hesitation in Li Yuan's face, then he returned Wu Shih's smile tightly, bowing his head slightly to his fellow T'ang before he cut contact. Tonight. He shivered. Tonight he wished only to be alone. But that was not his fate. He was married now. He had duties to his wives. And to his ancestors. For it was up to him now to provide a son. To continue the line so that the chain should remain unbroken, the ancestral offerings made, the graves tended.
Even so, his heart felt dead in him. Ever since this morning he had kept thinking of the new child, seeing it in his mind, resting in Fei Yen's arms as she lay there propped up in bed on her father's estate.
He shook his head, then stood. It hurt. It hurt greatly, but it was behind him now. It had to be. His life lay ahead of him, and he could not carry his hurt about like an open wound. Nor could he wait for time to heal the scars. He must press on. For he was T'ang now. T'ang.
He stood with his hands resting against the edge of the desk, staring down at the package, still undecided about sending it; then he leaned forward, pressing the summons bell. "Send in Nan Ho."
The boy's debriefing had proved more successful than any of them had dared hope and had put the lie to what Director Spatz had said about Ward's "nil contribution" to the Project. Ward had remembered everything. In fact, the extent of his knowledge about the Wiring Project had surprised them all. With what he had given them, they would be able to reconstruct the facility within months. A facility that, in theory anyway, would be far more advanced than the one Spatz had so spectacularly mismanaged.