Chung Kuo - The Marriage Of The Living Dark Part 60

Han Ch'in, stopping in the doorway, saw at once what had happened. Newell lay on the bed, his mouth gagged, his hands tied behind his back. His throat was cut from ear to ear, blood pooled darkly on the pillows and sheets. Beyond him, on the far side of the room, the curtains drifted in and out in the breeze from the shattered window.

The girl was gone.

Han Ch'in felt his stomach drop away. This was his fault One hundred per cent down to him. The visiting President was dead, a.s.sa.s.sinated in a safe house, and he had introduced him to the killer.

He dropped to his knees.

Turner examined the body quickly, then turned. His eyes took in the kneeling form of Han Ch'in by the door, then looked past him at his own men, who stood in the doorway, wide-eyed with horror.

"Hansen, Josephs ... go down and get the body. Then get the mess cleared up. And don't say a f.u.c.king word to anyone, right? Not a f.u.c.king word!" They nodded, then turned and disappeared. Turner shivered, then looked to Han Ch'in again. "As for you, Major Li, you'd better contact your people at once and find out what you can about this Wyatt fellow. And you'd better let President Wei know while you're at it" Han Ch'in glanced up, distraught "I'm sorry, Major, I..." 'Just f.u.c.king leave it!" Turner barked, all of his pent-up tension in those four words. "He was a good man. And now he's dead, f.u.c.k iti So don't give me sorry, Major LLI don't wanna hear."

Han Ch'in gave the smallest nod, then, standing, hurried from the room. Aiya, he thought, thinking of what his superiors would say when they found out Ai-f.u.c.king-ya!

Cho Yi was alone in the trading room. As Li Yuan closed the door and walked across, the old man looked up.

"If s happening," he said, as if Li Yuan should understand what he meant "I can't believe it, but it is."

Yuan sat on the far side of the desk, puzzled by the look on Cho's face. He didn't seem troubled so much as bemused.

"Okay, what is it? We bought some valueless stock?" "You might say," Cho answered, vague to the point of irritating Li Yuan. "Look ... I could be in bed now, Master Cho. Have we a problem, or haven't we?"

Cho laughed. Again, it was strange, because Li Yuan could not grasp what was meant by it Was he amused or not? And if he was, then why! "Well?" he asked, when Cho did not answer. "Look for yourself," Cho said, sitting back and folding his arms' across his chest "See what you make of it." Yuan frowned, then activated the screen in front of him. For a moment he simply stared, then his mouth fell open. "f.u.c.k ..."

"Yes, f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k times eighty billion neh?" "Eighty.. .?" Li Yuan looked up and met the old man's eyes. This time he did understand. "But can't we ...?" "Stop it?" Cho Yi laughed again. This time Li Yuan had no difficulty placing Cho Yi's laughter. It was the ironic laughter of a man who saw that his time was up. "But there are controls, surely?" "Whoever started this removed them." "Removed them? That's not possible, is it?" "Oh, I'd say anything was possible, if you wanted to commit financial suicide. You simply have to bribe men, or threaten them, or have them killed. And then replace those you've had killed. Until you control the system. And then ... see, Yuan? ... see how if s happening before our eyes? ... you just kick away the props."

Yuan stared at the screen, bemused now. "But who would do that? Who'd have the power? And if they had the power, then why? It would be like shooting oneself in the head!"

"Exactly. But someone has. Someone big."

Li Yuan shook his head slowly. "You've made projections?"

Cho nodded.

"And?"

"Freefall," Cho answered, smiling a beaming smile at Yuan. "Straight to the bottom and out the other side."

"But why? I mean, surely someone's spotted whaf s going on? Surely someone's taking action?"

In answer Cho Yi turned and switched on the news screen just above him and to his right. As it came alight it showed the image of a woman lying on top of what looked like an airduct of some kind. She was quite clearly dead, blood oozing from her in a dozen different places.

As the commentary switched in, the camera travelled up the external window-wall of what appeared to be a plush hotel of some kind, until it focused on the shattered window of a room.

"... of what was President Newell's own suite in the prestigious Eight Dragons Hotel. While the President's spokesman refuses to give details of the incident, it is understood that the President himself was not involved, and was actually at an official reception across town in Ching Shan Park ..." Cho cut the sound then looked back across at Li Yuan. "Rumour is that Newell's dead. a.s.sa.s.sinated by the girl. She too committed suicide Threw herself out of a thirty-eighth-storey window. Strange that neh? A curious synchronicity, wouldn't you say?"

"You think the two things are connected?"

Cho laughed. "Don't you, Yuan? What better distraction than the a.s.sa.s.sination of a visiting President? What better way of keeping eyes off one screen and on another?"

Li Yuan gestured towards the screen. "But this is more important, surely?" "You know that, and I know that... but our friends in the media don't Not yet, anyway. They're still speculating as to whether Newell has been killed, and if so, whether there will be a war."

"A war?"Cho nodded, then looked down.

And then it struck Li Yuan. "Oh, s.h.i.t! Han Ch'in!"

Kim followed K. into the lift, a sense of real urgency gripping him. He had seen the pictures on the news screens in the lobby of the apartment block, and heard the commentary, and knew now that time was running out for them. As the doors slid closed behind them, he looked up at the screen in the corner of the lift, then spoke to the air "Channel 96. With sound."

At once it switched to the news channel, showing the latest pictures from outside the Eight Dragons Hotel.

"... and whilst the woman cannot be immediately recognised after falling thirty-eight storeys, it has been confirmed by eyewitnesses that she was naked and that, according to one, she appeared not to scream as she fell." The image cut to the view from a news glider, positioned in line with the shattered window of the Presidential Suite. Armed men were gathered in that window, blocking any view into the room, but that only served to stoke up speculation.

"It is now almost twenty minutes since the incident, and still no word has come from President NeweE's spokesman, or indeed the President himself, about the affair, but it has now been confirmed that earlier reports from their office that the President was at a reception in Ching Shang Park were erroneous, and that President Newett was not seen by anybody at that reception. Which leads us to ask just what has been going on at the Eight Dragons Hotel, and what are the implications for relations between America and China if-as rumours have it -President Newell has been a.s.sa.s.sinated. It must be recalled that no American President has ever been murdered in a foreign country..." The lift stopped. The doors slid open silently. Ahead of them lay their corridor. Their door was the third on the left. K. looked to Kim as they stepped out onto the plushly carpeted floor. "I'd say the s.h.i.t's really hit the fan, wouldn't you?"

"So what do we do now?"

K. stopped in front of their door and took the door key from his pocket.

"Simple. We get Karr and Chen and Ebert. And then we get the b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"And the markets?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

K. turned the key and began to open the door. "On whether we can get back in time. If we can get back in an hour..." He stopped dead. Kim, following him in, cannoned into the back of him, then blinked, astonished by the sight that met his eyes.

The hoop of fire was gone. And DeVore... Kim swallowed ... DeVore was sitting on the bed, a semi-automatic in one hand. He beckoned them in with the other hand, then grinned.

"I'd say that was a rather big if, wouldn't you?"

CHAPTER-23.

time's last hour.

The storm had pa.s.sed. Ragged clouds drifted about the edge of the great depression in the earth. Only an hour back the dark earth had steamed; now a great carpet of white flowers covered it; lilies, their tall, elegant white throats turned to the sky, spilling oxygen into the air. Fifty kilometres away, to the south of the ruined generator, the sun shone on a different scene. On the gentle slope of a wooded hill, a cruiser lay on its side, its port wing crumpled, smoke wisping up from its damaged engine. The hatch was open, the inside of the craft in darkness. Nearby, hidden beneath the trees, the entrance of a cave gaped black. Silence. Not even the call of birds or insects. And then, far off, a muted drone, growing louder by the moment.

A second cruiser, smaller than the first, flew over the valley, its shadow flitting over the canopy of the trees. It banked then circled back, slowing until it hovered over the fallen craft Then, edging back and across, it descended, settling in a patch of meadow by the stream at the foot of the valley.

The engines died. There was a hiss as the hatch opened; the dank of booted feet upon the ramp.

Daniel stood there a moment, squinting out at the wooded hillside through the visor of his helmet, his senses twitching, then he jumped down and began to make his way up the slope towards DeVore's cruiser.

They had beaten him. They had destroyed his army and broken his power. Now only DeVore himself was left Coming closer to the cruiser, Daniel stopped and crouched, looking between the narrow boles of the trees at the craft It seemed abandoned. There was the fizz and pop of electrics shorting, then, incongruously, a s.n.a.t.c.h of music.

Daniel blinked, then understood. Music. DeVore had been playing music even as he fled from them.

He moved forward, slowly, cautiously, his gun raised, the barrel covering the hatch.

The music flared up momentarily, the great sweeping sound of strings briefly filling the valley, then cut out.

The smell of burning circuitry was stronger now. To his left the tree cover was broken, the hillside gouged up where the craft had landed. Daniel stopped, his eyes narrowed, taking that in. DeVore was some pilot to have landed his damaged craft without destroying it But why here? Why go down here?

A voice started in his head. Emily's voice. "Daniel? What's happening there?

Daniel? Do you read me, Daniel?"

Daniel switched it off. The cruiser was less than ten paces from him. He raised his visor, listening intently. Nothing. Nothing but the faint crackle of burning circuits.

Silently he crossed the narrow s.p.a.ce, keeping to the left of the open hatch. Now that he was closer, he could see that the hatchway had been forced. The ramp, which ought to have emerged automatically when the hatch was opened, had jammed. The whole side of the craft had buckled when it came down.

Daniel turned, looking at the ground beneath the hatch, and saw them at once.

Footprints, leading away up the slope.

His eyes followed their line.

Daniel hesitated, then tongued the switch. "Listen," he said, speaking into the open channel. "I'm at the craft. There's a cave nearby. I think that's where he went. I'm going to investigate."

Emily's voice came back at him at once. "Daniel? I know you can hear me, so listen. Stay where you are. Don't do anything until I get there." Daniel's tongue brushed the switch but did not turn it off. He itched to go inside and get the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, to put a bullet through his head and end it all, but Emily was right; it made no sense to take risks. Not now that they'd come this far.

"Okay," he said. 'Til wait."

"Good," came the reply. "And Daniel... you've done well." Daniel smiled, relaxing momentarily. None of them had slept these past twenty-four hours. A combination of drugs and adrenaline had kept them going. And now they were close. Close to a victory that had seemed impossible only a few days back. Even so, they would be leaving soon. Leaving and never coming back.

The simple thought of it surprised him, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end, because until that moment it had all seemed academic - something that might happen if they beat DeVore. But now it was close. Why, if he closed his eyes he could see it Could picture the earth, swathed in flowers, white beneath the sun, white beneath the moon. And silent. A silence broken only by the sound of the wind, the inward rush of waves breaking on an empty sh.o.r.e. Daniel shivered, then spoke: "And when the lamb opened the seventh seal, silence covered the sky."

"Daniel?"

He blinked. "What?"

"Those words ... where did you hear them?'

"I don't know. I..." And then he remembered. Remembered sitting there at his desk in the library, back in the training camp. "It was in a book I read. It was written by a man named Pasek..."

He felt as much as heard the sigh that echoed in his helmet "I knew him," Emily said. "He was in the Black Hand with me. Back before he created The Sealed." And now Pasek was dead. Yet the world he had foreseen had come to pa.s.s. A world without men.

Alas, alas for the human race. Alas for the kings of separation. How strangely resonant those words had been when he'd first read them. How bleak and yet how moving. As if they spoke to something buried deep within him. "Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"Hold tight. We're almost there."

Daniel smiled and nodded to himself. Yes, he could hear the drone of their engines now. Yet even as he made to turn and look back down the length of the valley, he glimpsed, out of the corner of his eye, the faintest movement in the darkness at the cave's mouth.

There was a noise. A low whine, like the sound of an insect rushing through the air. Too late he saw it, not an arm's length from his visor. Saw it and jerked back, trying to move his head aside.

And then the top of his helmet blew away, as if someone had just cleaved it with an axe.

"Daniel?... DameR"

Emily crouched, looking through the trees, trying to make out what exactly it was she was looking at. The craft was some twenty metres to her left, the cave some way beyond it Between the two was a tangle of greenery. Little else could be made out.

She turned slightly, signalling to the three men to her right to move up, then began to move forward herself, the big rocket-launcher clutched against her chest Where was he? Where in the G.o.ds' names was he?

One moment he'd been transmitting perfectly, the next... nothing.

This once she should have trusted to her instinct and ordered him to pull back.

Or told him to seal the entrance to the cave and leave DeVore to the floraforms.

But she, like Daniel, had wanted to make sure.

I should have killed the b.a.s.t.a.r.d when I had the chance, att those years ago when we went to visit him in his mountain hideout. Back when I was in the Ping Tiao. I could have done it then, and saved the world an immensity of grief .

Yes, but back then she hadn't known what he was. A voice sounded in her helmet; a sharp, sibilant whisper. "There's something there. On the ground beside the craft."

Emily stopped, then lifted her head slightly, moving it this way and that, looking through the tangle of leaf and branch. Yes, she could see it now. The humped shape of something. Could see the way the sunlight glinted off the angle of a protective flap.

Daniel, she thought, feeling her heart sink. She straightened up, then moved quickly between the trees, anger making her fearless. And then stopped abruptly, wincing at the sight Daniel lay on his side, where he'd fallen, bits of his shattered helmet littering the ground just beyond him.

She groaned. Yet even as she made the noise, Daniel's right hand twitched within the protective glove.

"Here.1" she yelled, turning and beckoning urgently to her men. "Quick now! He's still alive!"

There was a sudden rustling as men hastened to her. Emily stared a moment longer, pained deeply by the sight of Daniel's injuries, then, turning back, she stepped over the fallen boy and raised the launcher to her shoulder, taking aim. Revenge It would have been nice to get revenge. But saving Daniel was more important Far, far more important She squeezed the trigger, bracing herself against the jolt as the rocket rushed away from her, baring into the dark mouth of the cave.

The hatch hissed shut, the bolts slid into place. Inside the shuttle, a siren was sounding urgently as the survivors strapped themselves into the restraint webs, special harnesses locking about them automatically to support their necks and backs against the ma.s.sive g-forces they were about to face. Daniel too had been strapped in, his bandaged head encased in a specially-adapted restraint harness into which were fed the various tubes and electrodes that would keep him alive during the launch. Emily was the last to take her place, her concern for Daniel keeping her by his side until the very last The countdown began, the voice of Han Ch'in sounding throughout the craft Ten ... nine ... eight...

Outside, unseen by those within, a great tide of brightly-coloured flowers breached the outer walls of the s.p.a.ceport and flowed in towards the ship, even as that voice boomed out across the concrete ap.r.o.n, a ma.s.sive breaking wave of blooms that engulfed buildings and vehicles as it rushed towards the waiting shuttle.

The engines flared and then fired. Slowly the vehicle lifted from the pad, even as the flowers met and merged beneath it.

For a instant or two they roiled and flared, burning away in that intense fireball. Then, like a ripple, they withdrew to form a circle about the scorched and steaming earth. In a blink of an eye, they transformed into a crowd of people, green-faced yet strong of limb, who waved and yelled a silent farewell. As the shuttle climbed, the circle rippled and then closed upon itself, swallowing up that single patch of darkness, those mimic human forms becoming simple flowers once again; a great ocean of flowers that stretched from coast to coast; a thousand billion blooms that now turned as one, lifting their long, elegant throats towards the sun.