spread
his open hands, then turned away. There, then, lay the sticking
point. Beyond this they were guessing. Li Shai Tung, and the others
of the Seven who ran the Earth, were subject to no laws, no controls,
but their own. Ultimately it would be up to them whether change would
come; whether Man would try once more for the stars. DeVote's words,
true as they were for other men, did not apply to the Seven. They
could not be bought—for they owned half of everything there
was—nor, it seemed, could they be destroyed. For more than a
century they had ruled unchallenged.
"The T'ang
is a man, whatever some might think."
Lehmann looked
at DeVore curiously but held his tongue.
"He can be
influenced." DeVore added after a moment, "And when he sees
how the tide of events flows . . ."
"He'll cut
our throats."
DeVore shook his
head. "No. Not if we have the full weight of the Above behind
us. Markets and House and all. Not if his ministers are ours. He is
but a single man, after all."
"He is
Seven," said Lehmann, and for once he understood the full import
of the term. Seven. It made for strength of government. Each a king,
a T'ang, ruling a seventh of Chung Kuo, yet each an equal in Council,
responsible to his fellow T'ang; in some important things unable to
act without their firm and full agreement. "And the Seven is
against change. It is a principle with them. The very cornerstone of
their continued existence,"
"And yet
change they must. Or go under."
Lehmann opened
his mouth, surprised to find where their talk had led them. Then he
shook his head. "You don't mean..."
"You'll
see," said DeVore, more softly than before. "This here is
just a beginning. A display of our potential. For the Above to see."
He laughed, looking away into some inner distance. "You'll see,
Pietr. They'll come to us. Every last one of them. They'll see how
things are—we'll open their eyes to it—and then they'll
come to us."
"And
then?"'
"Then we'll
see who's more powerful. The Seven, or the Above."
HENG CHI-PO
leaned back in his chair and roared with laughter. He passed his
jewel-ringed fingers across his shiny pate, then sniffed loudly,
shifting his massive weight. "Excellent, Kou! Quite excellent! A
good toast! Let's raise our glasses then." He paused, the smile
on his face widening. "To Lwo Kang's successor!"
Six voices
echoed the toast enthusiastically.
"Lwo Kang's
successor!"
There were eight
men in the spacious, top-level office. Four were brothers to the
Minister, three his nephews. Heng Yu, the subject of the toast, a
slender man in his mid-twenties with a pencil moustache and a long
but pleasant face, smiled broadly and bowed to his uncle. Kou, fourth
son of Heng Chi-Po's father Tao, clapped an arm about Yu's shoulders,
then spoke again.
"This is a
good day, first brother."
Heng Chi-Po
nodded his huge rounded face, then laughed again. "Oh how sweet
it was to learn of that weasel's death. How sweet! And to think the
family will profit from it!"
There was
laughter from all sides. Only the young man, Yu, seemed the least bit
troubled. "He seemed a good man, uncle," he ventured.
"Surely I would do well to be as he was."
The laughter
died away. Chi-Po's brothers looked among themselves, but Heng Chi-Po
was in too good a mood to let Yu's comments worry him. He looked at
his nephew good-naturedly and shook his head in mock despair. Yet his
voice, when he spoke, had an acid undertone. "Then you heard
wrong, Yu. Lwo Kang was a worm. A liar and a hypocrite. He was a
foolish, stubborn man with the manners of the Clayborn and the
intelligence of a GenSyn whore. The world is a better place without
him, I assure you. And you, dear nephew, will make twic6 the minister
he was."
Heng Yu bowed
deeply, but there was a faint color to his cheeks when he
straightened, and his eyes did not meet his uncle's. Heng Chi-Po
watched him closely, thinking, not for the first time, that it was
unfortunate he could not promote one of his nearer relatives to
his open hands, then turned away. There, then, lay the sticking
point. Beyond this they were guessing. Li Shai Tung, and the others
of the Seven who ran the Earth, were subject to no laws, no controls,
but their own. Ultimately it would be up to them whether change would
come; whether Man would try once more for the stars. DeVote's words,
true as they were for other men, did not apply to the Seven. They
could not be bought—for they owned half of everything there
was—nor, it seemed, could they be destroyed. For more than a
century they had ruled unchallenged.
"The T'ang
is a man, whatever some might think."
Lehmann looked
at DeVore curiously but held his tongue.
"He can be
influenced." DeVore added after a moment, "And when he sees
how the tide of events flows . . ."
"He'll cut
our throats."
DeVore shook his
head. "No. Not if we have the full weight of the Above behind
us. Markets and House and all. Not if his ministers are ours. He is
but a single man, after all."
"He is
Seven," said Lehmann, and for once he understood the full import
of the term. Seven. It made for strength of government. Each a king,
a T'ang, ruling a seventh of Chung Kuo, yet each an equal in Council,
responsible to his fellow T'ang; in some important things unable to
act without their firm and full agreement. "And the Seven is
against change. It is a principle with them. The very cornerstone of
their continued existence,"
"And yet
change they must. Or go under."
Lehmann opened
his mouth, surprised to find where their talk had led them. Then he
shook his head. "You don't mean..."
"You'll
see," said DeVore, more softly than before. "This here is
just a beginning. A display of our potential. For the Above to see."
He laughed, looking away into some inner distance. "You'll see,
Pietr. They'll come to us. Every last one of them. They'll see how
things are—we'll open their eyes to it—and then they'll
come to us."
"And
then?"'
"Then we'll
see who's more powerful. The Seven, or the Above."
HENG CHI-PO
leaned back in his chair and roared with laughter. He passed his
jewel-ringed fingers across his shiny pate, then sniffed loudly,
shifting his massive weight. "Excellent, Kou! Quite excellent! A
good toast! Let's raise our glasses then." He paused, the smile
on his face widening. "To Lwo Kang's successor!"
Six voices
echoed the toast enthusiastically.
"Lwo Kang's
successor!"
There were eight
men in the spacious, top-level office. Four were brothers to the
Minister, three his nephews. Heng Yu, the subject of the toast, a
slender man in his mid-twenties with a pencil moustache and a long
but pleasant face, smiled broadly and bowed to his uncle. Kou, fourth
son of Heng Chi-Po's father Tao, clapped an arm about Yu's shoulders,
then spoke again.
"This is a
good day, first brother."
Heng Chi-Po
nodded his huge rounded face, then laughed again. "Oh how sweet
it was to learn of that weasel's death. How sweet! And to think the
family will profit from it!"
There was
laughter from all sides. Only the young man, Yu, seemed the least bit
troubled. "He seemed a good man, uncle," he ventured.
"Surely I would do well to be as he was."
The laughter
died away. Chi-Po's brothers looked among themselves, but Heng Chi-Po
was in too good a mood to let Yu's comments worry him. He looked at
his nephew good-naturedly and shook his head in mock despair. Yet his
voice, when he spoke, had an acid undertone. "Then you heard
wrong, Yu. Lwo Kang was a worm. A liar and a hypocrite. He was a
foolish, stubborn man with the manners of the Clayborn and the
intelligence of a GenSyn whore. The world is a better place without
him, I assure you. And you, dear nephew, will make twic6 the minister
he was."
Heng Yu bowed
deeply, but there was a faint color to his cheeks when he
straightened, and his eyes did not meet his uncle's. Heng Chi-Po
watched him closely, thinking, not for the first time, that it was
unfortunate he could not promote one of his nearer relatives to
Similar Books
