She set the mirror back, then, with a tiny shudder, went across and began to prepare the meal.
FACES ... what could one tell from a face?
As Karr scrolled through the file of faces, studying each of the seventeen suspects as they appeared, he wondered just what they had in common, and what could be read of them with the eye.
Was it true what was written in the T'ung Shu, that a man's fate could be read in his face? Did the shape of the chin determine one's strength, or the length of the brow one's intelligence? Or was Sun Tzu right when he wrote that a man's exterior—however fine—had little bearing on his character or destiny? For himself he believed the latter. Hans Ebert had had a fine face, and look how he had fared? And DeVore . . . Some said DeVore was handsome. But handsome was as handsome did, and the worldly face DeVore had put on had masked a nature so evil and so corrupt as to warrant a face as black and pestilent as a pit of swarming insects.
Karr froze the image and sat back, rubbing his eyes. He had been at it all night, trying to find connections between these men, but there were no connections. Not one of them knew or had dealings with any of the others, nor was there any point of common interest, as far as he could tell. The only thing they had in common was that they—or copies sent in to replace them—had been seen in the border stacks in the last four weeks, and had been there when they'd no business to be there.
It was time to call them in and question them. Time to take this a stage further. If Kim was right and the tests Surgeon Hu had devised worked, then maybe they'd find an answer to this mystery.
Karr sighed, exasperated. I should have gone home, he told himself. I should have let one of my staff officers do this!
That was true, but that was not his style. Tolonen's lesson was deeply ingrained in him. If you wanted something done properly you had to do it yourself. You trusted your own eyes—you didn't trust what others told you. But sometimes you had to let go. Sometimes you simply had to depend on others.
Kao Chen . . . what I could do with Chen at my side right now.
He smiled. It had been some while since he'd thought of his old friend Chen; some while since his face had crossed the screen of his memory. Now, there was a case in point! Face like a thug. Ugly as sin. And yet an angel of a man. Loyal, trustworthy, the very best of friends. A man you could depend on in a tight corner. But Chen had long ago quit the service. It was nine years now since he had settled on the Plantations with his wife and family.
He chose well, settling so far north, Karr thought, recalling the devastation and loss of life he had witnessed yesterday. If he had settled in a warmer clime he would be dead now. He and all his darlings.
He ought to go and see him, once things were easier. It had been too long. Why, word was that Chen was a grandfather now. A grandfather! He laughed softly, then leaned forward, blanking the screen. It was hard to imagine it. No doubt he had a few gray hairs—
"Sir?"
Karr looked around. His equerry was standing in the doorway.
"Yes, Pietr?"
"Shih Ward is here, sir. He'd like a word with you."
"Tell him I'll be with him in a moment. Take him through to my office and look after him, okay? I just want to finish here."
"Sir!"
He sat, resting a moment. To tell the truth, he'd done all he could, but he wanted a moment before he saw Ward again. Something was nagging at him. Something obvious he'd overlooked.
How often that happened. How often, when you focused on a problem, nothing would come, and then, just as soon ais you'd relaxed and were thinking of something else—BANG!—there it was, the answer, as if from nowhere.
He laughed and stood. Yes, but now I'm thinking about it again. . . .
Chen. Yes, he'd visit Chen. As soon as time permitted.
"Shih Ward ... how are you?"
"Well, thank you," Kim said, standing and greeting Karr. "I understand the camera trawl threw up seventeen suspects."
"That's right," Karr said, going around his desk. "I'm having them brought in right now. We should know before lunchtime whether we've got more copies on our hands."
"But no connections, right?"
Karr stared at him, then nodded. "How did you know?"
Kim smiled. "Just a hunch. I was thinking about it earlier, when I was swimming with my son."
"And?"
"And I was thinking that if I was going to try to infiltrate the City I would ensure that there were as few connections as possible between those people I was going to replace. In fact, I'd make the whole thing as inconspicuous as possible."
Karr shrugged. "Fine. But to what purpose?"
"To whatever purpose I wanted. To assassinate targeted officials, maybe. Or to cause maximum disruption, perhaps by acting as human bombs. Or—and this only occurred to me traveling across—simply to sow despair."
"You're not serious, surely?"
"Why not?" Kim leaned forward, placing his hands on Karr's desk. "What weapon could be more effective? What could damage us more as a society than a whole group of individuals going about spreading the gospel of negativity?"
"But the expense! To make these things must have cost billions!"
"To develop them, yes. But to build them . . ." Kim shook his head. "My guess is that the hard work—the R and D—was already done. My guess is that once we start looking we'll find hundreds of these things!"
Karr stared back at him a moment, then shuddered. "You're sure you're not one yourself, Shih Ward? To hear you speak . . ."
"Forgive me," Kim said, sitting back. "My words weren't meant to frighten you. Once we locate these things we can deal with them. But I think we ought to widen the scope of our investigation and look back through the camera records not just a month or two but over a much longer period. Several years, perhaps."
"But you said—"
"I've changed my mind. I think that whoever devised this is playing a long game. Placing sleepers among us. At some point, when he has enough of them in place, they'll be activated."
Karr whistled. "I see. I—"
His desk communicator buzzed. '
"What is it?" he asked, touching the pad.
"I'm sorry, sir, but there's an urgent message for Shih Ward."
Karr looked to Kim. "Would you like to take it privately?"
"No. Patch it through."
The two men turned to face the screen as it came down. An aged Han faced them, his thinly covered head bowed.
"Shih Ward?"
"Who calls me urgently?"
The old man raised his head. "Forgive me for disturbing you, Master. I am Steward Cui. We met yesterday. . . ."
"Of course," Kim said, lowering his head slightly. "You have a message for me from your Master, Steward Cui?"
"He"—the old Han made a movement with his mouth as if finding it difficult to say what he was about to say—"he says he begs you to forgive him his rudeness yesterday. He says ... if you would graciously visit him this afternoon?"
Karr looked at Kim. Something strange was happening in the young man's face. He saw the flickering emotions there, quickly controlled.
Kim raised his head proudly. "Tell your Master that 1 shall be most honored to visit him. What time would be most convenient?"
Cui gave a grateful little bob of his head. "If you would care to be here at two, I shall prepare a light meal for you."
"That is most kind, Steward Cui. Until two, then. . . ."
The screen went blank. Slowly it slid back into its ceiling slot.
"The Marshal?" Karr asked, then frowned, surprised by how unguarded Kim's expression was. For a brief moment his face revealed an unexpected vulnerability, then he composed himself again.
Kim nodded. "That's right. Now where were we ... ?"
LEHMANN WALKED SWIFTLY through the massive entrance hall, the click of his booted footsteps carried back to him from the high, vaulted ceiling. The Shen Chang Fang at Milan was the oldest and most magnificent of GenSyn's installations, taking up seven whole stacks at the very center of Milan Hsien, directly above the old city. The sheer grandeur of the place spoke of a different age—an age of fluted pillars and massive, echoing halls. It was said the ghost of Klaus Ebert walked their marble halls, but now the staff bowed their heads to another Master, kneeling hurriedly in the broad corridors as the White T'ang approached, his entourage hastening to keep up with him.