Wingrove, David - Chung Kuo 02 by The Broken Wheel (v3.1)[htm]
Authors: The Broken Wheel (v3.1)[htm]
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conversation back to his
superior. That was his role—to keep his master central at all
times. Unlike the others, he had barely touched his drink all
afternoon. It was not evident, for he seemed to lift his drink as
often to his lips and refill his glass as often from the bottle, but
his speech, unlike the others, was clear, precise.
"And you,
Hans? How is that lady you were seeing?"
Ebert looked
aside, smiling rakishly. "Which of my ladies would that be,
Will?"
Auden leaned
forward to tap the end of his cigar against the tray, then sat back
again in his chair. "You know the one. The Minister's wife."
There was a gasp
of surprise and admiration. A Minister's wife! That smelled of
danger. And danger was an aphrodisiac they all understood.
"Yes, tell
us, Hans," said Scott, his eyes bright with interest.
Ebert sipped at
his glass relaxedly, then looked about the circle of eager, watching
faces.
"She's my
slave," he said calmly. "I can make her do anything I want.
Anything at all. Take the other day, for instance. I had her two
maids strip her and hold her down while I beat her with my cane.
Then, while she watched, I had her maids. Afterward, she was begging
for it. But I shook my head. 'You have to earn it,' I said. 'I want
you to show me how much you love your maids.' "
"No!"
said Panshin, a rather portly Colonel. "And did she?"
Ebert sipped
again. "Didn't I say she was my slave?" He smiled. "Right
in front of me she got down on the floor with her maids and rolled
about for more than twenty minutes, until all three of them were
delirious, begging me to join them."
Fest's eyes were
bulging. "And then you gave her one?"
Ebert set his
glass down and slowly shook his head. "Nothing so simple. You
see, I have this ritual."
"Ritual?"
Scott swigged down his brandy with a quick tilt of his head, then set
his glass down hard on the table. "What kind of ritual?"
"I had all
three of them kneel before me, naked, their heads bowed. Then I
called them forward, one at a time, to kneel before the god and kiss
the god's head. As each did so they had to repeat a few words. You
know the sort of thing. 'I promise to be faithful and obedient to the
god and do whatever the god wishes.' That sort of thing."
"Kuan Yin!"
said another of the captains, a man named Russ. "Don't tell me,
and then you had all three at once."
Ebert laughed
and finished his drink. "I'm afraid not. The old girl was just
about to take her turn when I noticed what time it was. 'Sorry,' I
told her, 'I didn't realize the time. I have to go. The T'ang awaits
me.' "
"Gods!"
Scott spluttered, then shook his head. "You're not kidding us,
Hans. That really happened?"
"Less than
six hours back."
"And what
did she say?"
Ebert laughed.
"What could she say? You don't keep a T'ang waiting."
"And your
promise?" said Russ. "You promised you'd fuck her if she
showed she loved her maids."
Ebert reached
out and tipped more wine into his glass. "I'm a man of my word,
Captain Russ. As you all know. When we've finished here I'll be
returning to fulfill my promise."
"And her
husband?" Scott asked. "Where was he while all of this was
going on?"
"In his
study. Reading the Analects."
There was a
great guffaw of laughter at that, which made heads turn at nearby
tables.
"Power.
That's what it's really all about," said Ebert, his eyes
half-closed, a faintly sybaritic smile on his lips. "That's the
key to sex. Power. It's something young Li Yuan will learn this very
night. Master your sexuality and the world is yours. Succumb to it
and . . ."He shrugged. "Well. . . look at Fest here!"
The laughter
rolled out again, dark, suggestive.
At that moment,
on the threshold of the great doorway to the club, a rather
dour-looking, almost ugly man, a Han, paused, looking in, his eyes
drawn momentarily toward the laughter at the table to his right. He
was different from the other Han inside the club in that he wore the
powder-blue uniform of a Security officer, his chest patch showing
him
superior. That was his role—to keep his master central at all
times. Unlike the others, he had barely touched his drink all
afternoon. It was not evident, for he seemed to lift his drink as
often to his lips and refill his glass as often from the bottle, but
his speech, unlike the others, was clear, precise.
"And you,
Hans? How is that lady you were seeing?"
Ebert looked
aside, smiling rakishly. "Which of my ladies would that be,
Will?"
Auden leaned
forward to tap the end of his cigar against the tray, then sat back
again in his chair. "You know the one. The Minister's wife."
There was a gasp
of surprise and admiration. A Minister's wife! That smelled of
danger. And danger was an aphrodisiac they all understood.
"Yes, tell
us, Hans," said Scott, his eyes bright with interest.
Ebert sipped at
his glass relaxedly, then looked about the circle of eager, watching
faces.
"She's my
slave," he said calmly. "I can make her do anything I want.
Anything at all. Take the other day, for instance. I had her two
maids strip her and hold her down while I beat her with my cane.
Then, while she watched, I had her maids. Afterward, she was begging
for it. But I shook my head. 'You have to earn it,' I said. 'I want
you to show me how much you love your maids.' "
"No!"
said Panshin, a rather portly Colonel. "And did she?"
Ebert sipped
again. "Didn't I say she was my slave?" He smiled. "Right
in front of me she got down on the floor with her maids and rolled
about for more than twenty minutes, until all three of them were
delirious, begging me to join them."
Fest's eyes were
bulging. "And then you gave her one?"
Ebert set his
glass down and slowly shook his head. "Nothing so simple. You
see, I have this ritual."
"Ritual?"
Scott swigged down his brandy with a quick tilt of his head, then set
his glass down hard on the table. "What kind of ritual?"
"I had all
three of them kneel before me, naked, their heads bowed. Then I
called them forward, one at a time, to kneel before the god and kiss
the god's head. As each did so they had to repeat a few words. You
know the sort of thing. 'I promise to be faithful and obedient to the
god and do whatever the god wishes.' That sort of thing."
"Kuan Yin!"
said another of the captains, a man named Russ. "Don't tell me,
and then you had all three at once."
Ebert laughed
and finished his drink. "I'm afraid not. The old girl was just
about to take her turn when I noticed what time it was. 'Sorry,' I
told her, 'I didn't realize the time. I have to go. The T'ang awaits
me.' "
"Gods!"
Scott spluttered, then shook his head. "You're not kidding us,
Hans. That really happened?"
"Less than
six hours back."
"And what
did she say?"
Ebert laughed.
"What could she say? You don't keep a T'ang waiting."
"And your
promise?" said Russ. "You promised you'd fuck her if she
showed she loved her maids."
Ebert reached
out and tipped more wine into his glass. "I'm a man of my word,
Captain Russ. As you all know. When we've finished here I'll be
returning to fulfill my promise."
"And her
husband?" Scott asked. "Where was he while all of this was
going on?"
"In his
study. Reading the Analects."
There was a
great guffaw of laughter at that, which made heads turn at nearby
tables.
"Power.
That's what it's really all about," said Ebert, his eyes
half-closed, a faintly sybaritic smile on his lips. "That's the
key to sex. Power. It's something young Li Yuan will learn this very
night. Master your sexuality and the world is yours. Succumb to it
and . . ."He shrugged. "Well. . . look at Fest here!"
The laughter
rolled out again, dark, suggestive.
At that moment,
on the threshold of the great doorway to the club, a rather
dour-looking, almost ugly man, a Han, paused, looking in, his eyes
drawn momentarily toward the laughter at the table to his right. He
was different from the other Han inside the club in that he wore the
powder-blue uniform of a Security officer, his chest patch showing
him
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