"Tough titty! Christ, isn't it bloody hot? Don't you think we could afford air conditioning in the exchange? Is it yes or no, old chap?"

Joseph Stern thought a moment. He did not want to fuel the nervousness. Only yesterday Golden Ferry had soared a dollar because all the business world knew their annual meeting was next week, it had been a good year and it was rumored there was going to be a stock split. But he knew the first rule of all exchanges: yesterday has nothing to do with today. The client had said, Sell.

"20 cents off market?" he asked.

"30. Last offer. What the hell do you care, you still get paid. Is it 30 off?"

"All right." Stern worked his way down the board, selling most of their stocks without trouble though each time he had to concede on price. With difficulty he borrowed the Ho-Pak stock. Now he stopped at the column listing the bank. There were many sell orders. Most of them were small figures. He wrote 200,000 at the bottom of the list in the sell column. A shock wave went through the room. He paid no attention, just looked at Forsythe, who was Richard Kwang's broker. Today he was the only buyer of Ho-Pak.

"Is Quillan trying to wreck the Ho-Pak?" a broker asked.

"It's already under siege. Do you want to buy the shares?"

"Not on your bloody life! Are you selling Struan short too?"

"No. No I'm not."

"Christ, I don't like this at all."

"Keep calm, Harry," someone else said. "The market's come alive for once, that's all that counts."

"Great day, what?" another broker said to him. "Is the crash on? I'm totally liquid myself, sold out this morning. Is it going to be a crash?"

"I don't know."

"Shocking about Struan's, isn't it?"

"Do you believe all the rumors?"

"No, of course not, but one word to the wise is sufficient they say, what?"

"I don't believe it."

"Struan's off 3 Ye in one day, old boy, a lot of people believe it," another broker said. "I sold out my Struan's this morning. Will Richard sustain the run?"

"That's in the hands ofa" Joseph Stern was going to say God but he knew that Richard Kwang's future was in the hands of his depositors and that they had already decided. "Joss," he said sadly.

"Yes. Thank God we get our commissions either way, feast or famine, jolly good, what?"

"Jolly good," Stern echoed, privately loathing, the smug, selfsatisfied upper-class English accent of the exclusive British public schools, schools that, because he was Jewish, he had never been able to attend. He saw Forsythe put the phone down and look at the board. Once more he tapped his offering. Forsythe beckoned him. He walked through the throng, eyes watching him.

"Are you buying?" he asked.

"In due course, Joseph, old boy!" Forsythe added softly.. "Between you and me, can't you get Quillan off our backs? I've reason to believe he's in cahoots with that berk Southerby."

"Is that a public accusation?"

"Oh come on, it's a private opinion, for chrissake! Haven't you read Haply's column? Tai-pans and a big bank spreading rumors? You know Richard's sound. Richard's as sound asa as the Rothschilds! You know Richard's got over a billion in res"

"I saw the crash of '29, old chap. There were trillions in reserve then but even so everyone went broke. It's a matter of cash, credit and liquidity. And confidence. You'll buy our offering, yes or no?"

"Probably."

"How long can you keep this up?"

Forsythe looked at him. "Forever. I'm just a stockbroker. I just follow orders. Buy or sell I make a quarter of one percent."

"If the client pays."

"He has to. We have his stock, eh?We have rules. But while I think of it, go to hell."

Stern laughed. "I'm British, I'm going to heaven, didn't you know." Uneasily, he walked back to his desk. "I think he'll buy before the market closes."

It was a quarter to three. "Good," Gornt said. "Now I wa " He stopped. They both looked back as there was an undercurrent. Dunross was escorting Casey and Linc Bartlett to the desk of Alan Holdbrook Struan's in-house broker on the other side of the hall.

"I thought he'd left for the day," Gornt said with a sneer.

"The tai-pan never runs away from trouble. It's not in his na- ture." Stern watched them thoughtfully. "They look pretty friendly. Perhaps the rumors are all wrong and Iantll make the Par-Con deal and make the payments."

"He can't. That deal's going to fall through," Gornt said. "Bartlett's no fool. Bartlett'd be mad to throw in with that tottering empire."

"I didn't even know until a few hours ago that Struan's were indebted to the Orlin Bank. Or that the Toda payments were due in a week or so. Or the even more nonsensical rumor that the Vic won't support the Noble House. Lot of nonsense. I called Havergill and that's what he said."

"What else would he say?"

After a pause, Stern said, "Curious that all that news surfaced today."

"Very. Sell 200,000 Struan's."

Stern's eyes widened and he plucked at his bushy eyebrows. "Mr. Gornt, don't you think th"

"No. Please do as I ask."

"I think you're wrong this time. The tai-pan's too clever. He'll get all the support he needs. You'll get burned."

"Times change. People change. If Struan's have extended them- selves and can't paya Well, my dear fellow, this's Hong Kong and I hope the buggers go to the wall. Make it 300,000."

"Sell at what figure, Mr. Gornt?"

"At market."

"It'll take time to borrow the shares. I'll have to sell in much smaller lots. I'll hav"

"Are you suggesting my credit's not good enough or you can't perform normal stockbroking functions?"

"No. No of course not," Stern replied, not wanting to offend his biggest customer.

"Good, then sell Struan's short. Now."

Gornt watched him walk away. His heart was beating nicely.

Stern went to Sir Luis Basilic of the old stockbroking firm of Basilic and Sons, who had a great block of Struan's personally, as well as many substantial clients with more. He borrowed the stock then walked to the board and wrote the huge offering in the sell column. The chalk scraped loudly. Gradually the room fell silent. Eyes switched to Dunross and Alan Holdbrook and the Americans, then to Gornt and back to Dunross again. Gornt saw Linc Bartlett and Casey watching him and he was glad she was there. Casey was wearing a yellow silk skirt and blouse, very Californian, a green scarf tying her golden hair back. Why is she so sexual, Gornt asked himself absently. A strange invitation seemed to surround her. Why? Is it because no man yet has ever satisfied her?

He smiled at her, nodding slightly. She half-smiled back and he thought he noticed a shadow there. His greeting to Bartlett was polite and returned equally politely. His eyes held Dunross and the two men stared at each other.

The silence mounted. Someone coughed nervously. Everyone was conscious of the immensity of the offering and the implications of it.

Stern tapped his offering again. Holdbrook leaned forward and consulted with Dunross who half shrugged and shook his head, then began talking quietly to Bartlett and Casey.

Joseph Stern waited. Then someone offered to buy a portion and they haggled back and forth. Soon 50,000 shares had changed hands and the new market price was 24.90. He changed the 300,000 to 250,000 and again waited. He sold a few more but the bulk re- mained. Then, as there were no takers, he came back to his seat. He was sweating.

"If that number stays there overnight it'll do Struan's no good at all."

"Yes." Gornt still watched Casey. She was listening intently to Dunross. He sat back and thought a moment. "Sell another 100,000 Ho-Pak and 200,000 Struan's."

"Good God, Mr. Gornt, if Struan's gets brought down the whole market'll totter, even your own company'll lose."

"There'll be an adjustment, lots of adjustments, certainly."

"There'll be a bloodbath. If Struan's go, so will other companies, thousands of investors'll be wiped out an"

"I really don't need a lecture on Hong Kong economics, Mr. Stern," Gornt said coldly. "If you don't want to follow instructions I'll take my business elsewhere."

Stern flushed. "I'lla I'll have to round up the shares first. That numbera to get that suma"

"Then I suggest you hurry up! I want that on the board today!" Gornt watched him go, enjoying the moment immensely. Cocky bastard, he was thinking. Stockbrokers are just parasites, every one of them. He felt quite safe. Bartlett's money was in his account. He could buy back Ho-Pak and Struan's even now and be millions ahead. Contentedly his eyes strayed back to Casey. She was watching him. He could read nothing in her expression.

Joseph Stern was weaving through the brokers. Again he stopped at the Basilic desk. Sir Luis Basilio looked away from the board and smiled up at him. "So, Joseph? You want to borrow more Noble House shares?"

"Yes, please."

"For Quillan?" Sir Luis asked. He was a fine old man, small, elegant, very thin, and in his seventies this year's chairman of the committee that ran the exchange.

"Yes."

"Come, sit down, let's talk a moment, old friend. How many do you want now?"

"200,000.".

Sir Luis frowned. "300,000 on the board another 2? Is this an all-out attack?"

"Hea he didn't say that but I think it is."

"It's a great pity those two can't make peace with one another."

"Yes."

The older man thought a moment, then said even more quietly, "I'm considering suspending dealing in Ho-Pak shares, and, since lunch, Noble House shares. I'm very worried. At this precise mo- ment a Ho-Pak crash, coupled with a Noble House crash, could wreck the whole market. Madonna, it's unthinkable for the Noble House to crash, it would pull down hundreds of us, perhaps all Hong Kong, unthinkable!"

"Perhaps the Noble House needs overhauling. Can I borrow 200,000 shares?"

"First answer me this, yes or no, and if yes when: Should we suspend the Ho-Pak? Should we suspend Struan's? I've polled all the other members of the committee except you. They're divided almost equally."

"Neither have ever been suspended. It would be bad to suspend either. This's a free society in its best sense, I think. You should let it work itself out, let them sort themselves out, the Struans, and the Gornts and all the rest, let the best get to the top and the worsta" Stern shook his head wearily. "Ah but it's easy for me to say that, Luis, I'm not a big investor in either."

"Where's your money?"

"Diamonds. All Jews need small things, things you can carry and things you can hide, things you can convert easily."

"There's no need for you to be afraid here, Joseph. How many years has your family been here and prospered? Look at Solomon surely he and his family are'tine richest in all Asia."

"For Jews fear is a way of life. And being hated."

Again the old man sighed. "Ah this world, this lovely world, how lovely it should be." A phone rang and he picked it up delicately, his hands tiny, his Portuguese sounding sweet and liquid to Stern though he understood none of it. He only caught "Senor Mata" said deferentially several times but the name meant nothing to him. In a moment Sir Luis replaced the receiver very thoughtfully. "The financial secretary called just after lunch, greatly perturbed. There's a deputation from Parliament here and a bank crash would look extremely bad for all of us," he said. He smiled a pixyish smile. "I suggested he introduce legislation for the governor's signature to govern banks like they had in England and the poor fellow almost had a fit. I really mustn't pull his leg so much." Stern smiled with him. "As if we need government interference here!" The eyes sharpened. "So Joseph, do you vote to let well alone or suspend either or both of the stocks, if so when?"

Stern glanced at the clock. If he went to the board now he would have plenty of time to write up both sell offerings and still be able to challenge Forsythe. It was a good feeling to know that he held the fate of both houses in his hands, if only temporarily. "Perhaps it would be very good, perhaps bad. What's the voting so far?"

"I said, almost equal. " There was another burst of excitement and both men looked up. Some more Struan shares were changing hands. The new market price dropped to 24.70. Now Phillip Chen was leaning over Holdbrook's desk.

"Poor Phillip, he doesn't look well at all," Sir Luis said compassionately.

"No. Pity about John. I liked him. What about the Werewolves? Do you think the papers are overplaying it?"

"No. No, I don't." The old eyes twinkled. "No more than you, Joseph."

"What?"

"You've decided to pass. You want to let today's time run out, don't you? That's what you want, isn't it?"

"What better solution could there be?"

"If I wasn't so old I'd agree with you. But being so old and not knowing about tomorrow, or if I shall live to see tomorrow, I prefer my drama today. Very well. I'll discount your vote this time and now the committee's deadlocked so I will decide, as I'm allowed to do. You can borrow 200,000 Noble House shares until Friday, Friday at two. Then I may ask for them back I have to think of my own House, eh?" The sharp but kindly eyes in the lined face urged Stern to his feet. "What are you going to do now, my friend?"

Joseph Stern smiled sadly. "I'm a stockbroker."

He went to the board and wrote in the Ho-Pak sell column with a firm hand. Then in the new silence he went to the Struan column and wrote the figure clearly, conscious that he was on center stage now. He could feel the hate and the envy. More than 500,000 Noble House shares were now on offer, more than at any one time in the history of the exchange. He waited, wanting the clock to run out. There was a flurry of interest as Soorjani, the Parsee, bought some blocks of shares but it was well known he was nominee for many of the Struan and Dunross family and supporters. And though he bought 150,000, it made little difference to the enormity of Gornt's offering. The quiet was hurting. One minute to go now.

"We buy!" The tai-pan's voice shattered the silence.

"All my shares?" Stern asked hoarsely, his heart racing.

"Yes. Yours and all the rest. At marketl"

Gornt was on his feet. "With what?" he asked sardonically. "That's almost 9 million cash."

Dunross was on his feet too, a taunting half-smile on his face. "The Noble House is good for that and millions more. Has anyone ever doubted it?"

"I doubt it and I sell short tomorrow!"