Chung Kuo - The Marriage Of The Living Dark Part 45

"Yes," she said, smiling now. "Ifs very strange, don't you think? How good comes from such evil. And not once, and not always, but ... well, occasionally. Enough to make things unpredictable."

"Like the floraforms, you think?"

It wasn't what she had been thinking, but now that he'd mentioned it... "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe thaf s why they let you go. Because they sensed something in you. Maybe it means we can come to some kind of arrangement with them."

Daniel turned, his face halved by the light from the screen, and stared at her.

"Do you think so?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know anything any more. Maybe DeVore's right to try to poison them."

"But you don't think so."

Emily nodded. "It makes no sense, when you think of it If the only way to fight the floraforms is to destroy the earth, then what1 s the point? If they can't survive, then we sure as h.e.l.l can't."

He smiled "So we go under. Become transformed."

"Maybe."

"Without a fight?"

"We've tried fighting. It didn't work."

"Then maybe you're right Maybe we have to come to an arrangement Live alongside the floraforms."

"You think they want that, Daniel?"

"Ifs possible."

"And DeVore?"

Emily sat back slightly. "I don't know what DeVore wants. I used to think I did, but I'm not so sure any more."

She leaned forward, switching on the light Daniel was watching her closely now.

"He'll fight," he said. "You know he will. He doesn't like compet.i.tion."

"No ..." Emily was thoughtful a while, then, "Do you like them?""Like them?" "The floraforms. The girl, Siri. .. She was speaking to me about how you look at them. She thought... well, that maybe you liked them."

Daniel laughed. "She's always watching me, that one. Like she's spying on me.

Sometimes ..."

He stopped dead, then looked away.

Emily frowned. "Go on."

"Well, sometimes I even think that maybe - just maybe -she's working for DeVore.

If s silly, I know, seeing how she's lived here all her life, but..." He stopped. Emily was shaking her head, a faint amus.e.m.e.nt in her eyes. "Don't you see, Daniel?"

"See?"

"She's in love with you."

She saw the surprise in his face and smiled inwardly. "No," he said, as if that simple denial could alter things. Yet his face was clouded now. He was so quick to understand things. Even this. "You want me to speak to her? To rea.s.sign her, maybe?"

"No. No ... I'll speak to her. Tell her ..."

She saw how he came to the gap. What would he tell her? "Think it over," she said gently. "If you need my help, just say." He let out his breath, then shook his head. "I didn't know." No, she thought But now you do.

Beth was laughing; giggling uncontrollably, as if she would burst apart with happiness. With her half-toddling run, she tried in vain to get away from her father, but he was on her, swooping suddenly, lifting her up in his great big hands and holding her high, high above his head and whirling her about "Stop! Stoop!" she shrieked breathlessly, but he wasn't going to stop, and besides, she didn't really want him to stop. Around and around she went, her head spinning now, the ground turning and turning beneath her until, with a swoop that made her head feel funny, she plummeted down, landing soft as a pillow on the gra.s.s.

She lay there, eyes closed, feeling her head go round and round, still giggling, the sound of her father's breathing mixed with the ebb and flow of the tide on the shingle beach below the garden.

"Beth! Beth! Do you want a drink?" Her eyes popped open. Her mother was standing at the half-door to the kitchen, looking out at her, a tumbler of juice held out in one hand. Closer, almost upon her, her father's face, staring down at her, was smiling. "Go on," he said. "We'll play some more in a minute." Beth rolled over, onto her back, staring up at the pure blue, cloudless sky, then pulled herself up. For a moment she felt as if she'd tumble back. Gravity tugged at her like a hand. The ground whirled. And then, slowly, very slowly, it grew still. She jumped up and ran, arms out, towards the house. The drink was fresh and sweet, the gla.s.s misted. Ice cubes c.h.i.n.ked about its edge. She drank deeply, then wiped a hand across her mouth and looked up. Her mother was looking out, past her, toward the garden's end. Beth turned, following her gaze. Her father stood there at the fence, his arms leaning loosely over the wooden bar as he watched the tide slowly turn. They had gone swimming earlier, when the tide had been coming in, her hand in his as they leapt high to greet each incoming wave, the cold water splintering about them, taking her breath, even as she squealed with excitement She shivered now at the thought, then looked down, poking her index finger into the cool, clear depth of the drink, twirling the ice cubes round and round and round. Tomorrow was her third birthday. And her father had promised her a special surprise.

She grinned at the thought, then looked up again. Her mother was looking down at her now; looking down with those deep brown eyes and smiling. "Tomorrow," her mother said, as if she could see each thought in her head like one could see the crabs scuttling about at the bottom of a rock pool. "We'll have a cake and everything." Beth's grin widened. Tomorrow ,..

The latest map confirmed it The stuff was spreading like a plague, despite the stepping up of his containment strategy.

"f.u.c.k it!"

DeVore crumpled up the map and cast it aside, then stood, glowering at his advisors who waited like so many puppets -the strings that held their heads upright severed - about the half-lit War Room.

It was over. He knew it for a certainty. There was no way of destroying the floraforms, not without destroying it all. Lashing out, he caught the nearest of his men with the back of his hand, the square-cut ring on his second finger gouging a chunk of flesh from the man's cheek.

The man went down, groaning, clutching his injured face. DeVore watched him a moment, his eyes dispa.s.sionate, then began to pace the room slowly, a sudden calmness overwhelming the anger, the frustration he'd been feeling. A dear, pure feeling.

He laughed. Heads lifted then quickly tucked back down.

'Til kick the f.u.c.king legs away, one by one!"

Yes. But first he had to win the game, else it would seem like pique - like a novice who, seeing he had lost, threw board, pieces and all into the air. No. He would play out the endgame. He would destroy the woman. Would kill her. Or better yet, have her then kill her. He grinned, as a hyena grins, then looked about him. "Gentlemen, I need your help."

Meg stood in the doorway, looking on as Ben knelt beside the bed, cooing a lullaby to their almost-sleeping daughter.

He had changed so much this last year. Changed beyond recognition. Gone was the coldness, the distance.

Yes, and the thoughtless cruelty, the madness, the darkness behind each day. She shivered, her love for him so full at that moment that she wanted to go across and kiss him. To hold him and show him what she was feeling. It was like the day outside.

Happy. For the first time in her life she was happy, without a cloud in the sky. And Ben ... Ben too was happy. Transformed. Now he spent his time worrying over simple things, like whether the roof leaked, or whether they'd enough to eat. He farmed and fished and made repairs to this old stone house. And sketched...

Yes, he still sketched. But that was all that remained of his old self. The rest had fallen away, or rotted, like the equipment in the bam. She watched him reach out and gently stroke his sleeping daughter's brow, the look of love in his face so intense that she bit her lip. Where had that come from? With Tom ... well, Tom might as well have been another's child for all the notice Ben had taken of him.

She turned away, going out into the kitchen, then stopped, facing the wall of sketches. Twenty, thirty sketches, and every one of Beth. Beth laughing. Beth thoughtful. Beth laying on the study floor, playing. Beth sleeping. Beth, always Beth. No other subject for him now.

Ironic...

Meg ran her fingers through her hair, then turned. Dinner. She ought to be making dinner. But suddenly, from nowhere, the darkness had descended. And there I was thinking it had gone away for good. She frowned, surprised by the suddenness of the change It was as if a cloud had drifted between her and the sun.

And yet nothing - nothing - had changed.

Except that she had reminded herself of what lay beyond them. Except that she'd forgotten for a moment to forget The world was ending. The world was f.u.c.king ending and here she was, playing Adam and Eve with her brother and their child, and ..."Meg?" He came across, his face concerned, his fingers gently wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Hey ... what is it?"

But she couldn't tell him. Couldn't spoil it all with her realisations. The nowness of this, that had to be enough, even if it ended tomorrow. The nowness. It was what she'd wanted, after all. What she'd always wanted. She huffed out a sigh, then smiled. "I'm okay. Really, I..." She shrugged. "Just seeing you with her. It broke me up."

Ben smiled. "I love you, you know."

"I know."

"And I'm happy. You know that? Really happy. I..." He paused, then shrugged. There was a look of wonder - of sheer astonishment on his face. "Yes," she said softly, almost whispering the words, "Iknow."

The room was silent A single lamp lit the board. In its pearled light DeVore's face leaned towards the pattern of white and black stones, studying the play.

For a long time he was still, then, reaching across, he slapped a stone down in ch'u, the West Only then did he turn, acknowledging the presence of the messenger in the room.

"What is it?"

"Forgive me, Master, but there's a new prisoner in the cells." DeVore raised an eyebrow. "There are always new prisoners. What makes this one so special?"

"It is Lin Lao."

DeVore felt a surge of pure elation at the name. "Lin Lao?

Are you sure?"

"Yes, Master. His retinal patterns match the record." DeVore turned back, looking at the board. The signs were clear. It was his moment The tide of fate flowed with him. He stood, then bowed to his opponent "Forgive me, Master Chung, but there is an urgent matter to attend to." The old man bowed where he sat on the far side of the board.

"Please take your time," DeVore said, knowing that an eternity would not help him win the game. "I shall return." "Master.. ."

"Where is she?"

"In the cells ..."

"And where did you say you found her?"

"On the lower slopes. She seemed ... lost"

Emily pulled her cloak tighter about her. It was cold in the lower levels, especially at this hour of the night, and she had not had time to dress properly.

"Okay. Let me see her."

Lin Pei shrugged. "She's... sleeping. Besides, I thought you would want to see what she was carrying."

"Carrying?"

Pei nodded. "On her back. The G.o.ds know how she managed to get this far with all that weighing her down."

Emily stared at her son a moment, then. "You'd best show me." Lin Pei led the way, down the narrow corridor past the cells and on, to where the guards slept "Here?" she asked, surprised. Two guards slept in their bunks. Another looked up at her from where he was cleaning his boots.

In answer, Pei pointed to a stack of books that were piled in one corner beside a heavy steel-frame-and-canvas backpack Emily went across, then bent down and picked up one of the heavy, leather-bound volumes, standing again as she opened it "But these ..."

"Are handwritten, yes. They're a history. A history of our world." Emily nodded vaguely, but her attention was on what she was reading. After a moment she turned, her eyes wide with surprise. "This is like the thing Ward wrote, but... bigger, fuller."

Lin Pei nodded. "She claims that if s hers. That she wrote it"

Emily looked down at the stack of volumes. Why, there had to be at least thirty of the big, leather-bound books. As Lin Pel said, the G.o.ds knew how she had managed to carry them this far. "Whaf s her name?"

"She calls herself Hannah."

"Hannah?" Emily thought a moment, then shook her head. She knew no one of that name. "And does she say what she wants?"

"To see you. And to get these to safety."

"Safety?' Emily laughed at the thought That was all they needed right now - a true history of a world about to be taken over by the floraforms. In a year, maybe less, all this - this long and patient effort - would be transformed. Would become part of the greater greenness of the world.

And history itself would end.

"You say she's sleeping?"

Lin Pei looked down, then met his mother's eyes again. "I called Surgeon Wu. I had him give her a sleeping draught. She looked exhausted." She smiled at him. "You're getting soft, Pei."

There was a moment's alarm in his eyes before he saw that she was teasing him, and then he smiled. "No softer than you, mother. Had you seen the state she was in, you would have done the same." She nodded. "You're a good man, Pei. Your father would have been proud of you."

He bowed his head, moved by her words.

"Well," she said, looking back at the book in her hand. "I'll speak to this Hannah in the morning. In the meantime I think I'll take this to bed with me." Pei grimaced. "It is not cheerful reading, from what I've seen."

She looked up at him. "No, yet maybe we would not be in this mess had we come face to face with what we were. Knowledge is power, so they say." "So they say."

They both laughed, the darker knowledge of their fate behind their laughter. They lived in shadows now, in darkening days. Their laughter was a candle against such darkness."Good night, Pel." Emily stepped across and, one hand gently holding the back of his head, kissed his brow. "Sweet dreams, my darling boy."

"The G.o.ds protect you," he answered, pecking her cheek. "And don't read too long. You need your sleep."