"Jelka ... is Jelka all right?"

Haavikko had leaned toward the screen to cut connection. Now he sat back again, a weariness in his face. "The Marshal's daughter is fine, Shih Ward. Now, please. There's a great deal to be done."

"Of course. And thank you. . . ."

The screen went dead. Kim straightened, realizing how tense he'd been, then let a long, shuddering sigh escape him. For a moment he'd thought ...

He sat, staring at the box of tapes. The boy. Someone must have taken the boy, Pauli.

"Machine?" he said, addressing the camera overhead. "What's happening?"

LEHMANN STUDIED the boy through the glass, then turned to his lieutenant, touching his arm.

"You did well, Jiri. But your man-"

"He's dead already."

"Good. Can't have any loose ends, can we?"

Soucek nodded, then. "So what now? Do we tell the old man we'v got him?"

"No. We let Tolonen sweat awhile. Two days, maybe three. Then we give him back."

Soucek stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"Trust me, Jiri. I know how to play this. Now go. There's a lot to be done."When Soucek was gone, he turned back, watching the boy again. Pauli was sitting in the corner once again, head down, his dark hair fallen over his eyes as he chewed the knuckles of his right hand.

That morning's audience with Karr had gone well. The big man had bought the whole package, lock, stock, and barrel. All that stuff about having seen the tape of Berdichev's death-that was a lie; an audacious guess, based on what he knew of Li Yuan's father. And an accurate guess, too, he thought, remembering the shock in Karr's face. The rest . . . well, it had been easy to buy Karr's wife's surgeon.

Yes, and a cheap purchase, too, considering.

It could not have been better timed. With Karr already on his way, word had come that Karr's wife was pregnant-news even Karr himself had not known.

Lehmann turned from the one-way glass. Information ... it was sometimes more deadly than armies, as the great Sun Tzu had known.

Yes, he had planted the seed of paranoia deep. That single truth- gained cheaply-would confirm the veracity of the rest. As Colonel of Internal Security, Karr would embark on a witch-hunt at Tongjiang.

Disruption-maximum disruption, that was his aim. To wrong-foot them and feed them with a stream of misinformation. To play upon their weakest points and milk them. Karr he had touched, and Tolonen.

Rheinhardt and Nan Ho would follow. And then Li Yuan himself. One by one he would make them uncertain of themselves.

Yes, for war was not a simple thing of armies and battles: it was a state of mind, a psychological regime.

War was not won with bullets and bombs, but with the raw materials of fear, uncertainty, and self-doubt.

He laughed-a cold, clear laugh-then left the room, keen to get on with things. Why, before he was finished with them, he would make them look before they shat!

THE CEREMONIES had begun before the dawn, as fourth bell sounded across the palace grounds. At that dark hour Prince Tsu Kung-chih, eldest nephew of Tsu Ma, had stepped from the gate of the Northern Palace, dressed in the gowns of the Imperial Commissioner, the chieh-a beribboned staff that symbolized imperial authority-held out before him. Two torchbearers lit his way, while behind him came a great procession of courtiers and servants, bearing the betrothal presents on raised platforms, as well as the Golden Scroll and Seal and the feng yu-the great bridal chair. They made their way across the gardens at the center of the four palaces, then stopped before the gate to the Southern Palace where, on a crimson cushion, Liang K'o Ting, father of the Empress, knelt, awaiting them, as if at the door of his own house.

Once, in ancient times, there had been three great ceremonies of presentation, separated by long weeks of preparation. Now there was only this single, simple ritual. Even so, the servants standing three deep at the windows surrounding the gardens watched wide eyed, conscious of the great chain that linked them to the ancient past of their kind.

At the same moment, in a private ceremony in the T'ai Miao, the Supreme Hall of Ancestors, Tsu Ma was solemnly reporting the news of his betrothal to the august spirits of his ancestors, their holograms burning brightly as he knelt before them, his forehead pressed to the cold stone flags.

Twelve hours later Liang K'o Ting, dressed in his new uniform as officer of the imperial bodyguard, stepped from the gate of the South- em Palace, heading north across the gardens. Behind him was a procession no less great than that which had set out earlier. This time, however, the feng yu was occupied, Tsu Ma's bride, Liang Shu-sun,hidden within, twenty-two bearers moving slowly, solemnly, as the drums sounded the "Central Harmony." Fifty servants carried gifts on litters, while a further hundred bore large lanterns and "dragon-phoenix" flags. In the midst of all a dozen men carried two yellow pavilions, holding the Golden Seal and the Golden Scroll, symbols of Shu-sun's authority as Empress, while directly behind the great Phoenix Chair walked the servants and ministers of her household.

At the gate to the Northern Palace, Tsu Kung-chih stood motionless, the chieh held out before him, waiting to receive his father's bride. Behind him, in the Great Hall at the center of the palace, Tsu Ma sat on the dragon throne in the full glory of his imperial yellow silks, the nine dragons-eight shown and one hidden-decorating the gown.

As he reached the gate, Liang K'o Ting stood to one side, his head bowed, letting the imperial commissioner, Prince Kung-chih, lead the procession into the Northern Palace, relinquishing his daughter into his care. Inside, surrounding the dragon throne, stood the four hundred members of the Net T'ing, the Inner Court, as well as those invited guests, numbering some fifteen hundred in all. The procession moved between them, then stopped, the great Phoenix Chair being set down below the steps of the dragon throne.

Two bells sounded, one high, one low. The final ceremony began. Tsu Ma stood, then came down the steps, halting before the feng yu as eight shaven-headed New Confucian officials, dressed in crimson robes, lifted the red silk curtain that covered the litter, drawing it back over the top.

Within, Shu-sun sat in the Chair, dressed from head to toe in red, the traditional kai t'ou covering her face. At a signal from the chief official, Tsu Ma stepped forward and delicately lifted the veil over her head.

Shu-sun's smile was radiant. Taking her hands, Tsu Ma helped her step down, her smile disarming him, making him feel at that moment like the most gauche of schoolboys. As the chants began he stood there, facing her, disturbed by the fact that at this, one of the most public moments of his life, he was sporting the most enormous erection. As if she knew, Shu-sun's smile broadened, her eyes widening in invitation.

Tonight, he thought, surprised by the strength of his feelings. After all, he scarcely knew her. He had thought himself jaded, emotionally spent, but the simple sight of her inflamed him. Why, the last time he had felt this way had been for Fei Yen.

His sad smile was noted by her and she raised an eyebrow querying it. So strange it was, for it suggested an intimacy that did not yet exist between them, and yet ... well, it was as if he knew her from way back-from another cycle of existence.

He watched, unconscious of the words of the ritual, aware only of her face, her eyes, the light dancing in the darkness of her pupils.

The ceremony was halfway through when sirens began to sound beyond the doors. Tsu Ma turned, looking to his Colonel of Internal Security, Yi Ching, and nodded. Yi bowed and turned, running off to discover what was happening.

Heads turned, eyes looked apprehensive, yet no one broke the silent solemnity of the moment. The chants went on, the ritual continued, while outside, echoing menacingly across the empty gardens of the palace, the sirens rose and fell.

YI CHINO rushed into the busy control room, taking control. Voices in his head apprised him of the situation, yet he spent a moment or two studying the screens, checking for himself before he acted.The ship was fifty li out, over the Caspian, coming in fast from the east. Twice they had challenged it for a visual ID and twice it had ignored them. Now they had only two options-to shoot it down or let it land.

He turned to the Duty Captain. "Captain Munk . . . you're certain about the CGRP?"

"It's a Minor Family format, sir, but unspecific."

"Shit!"

No one would blame him for shooting it out of the air, but what if it was one of the Minor Family princes? After all, it wouldn't be the first time a cruiser's Computer-Generated Recognition Pattern had failed or been wrongly set. Yes, and things were very sensitive right now. To shoot a prince out of the air without warning would cause a terrible stink, no matter what justification there was for it.

Colonel Yi gave a groan of annoyance, then banged the console hard with both fists. Now was no time to prevaricate. It would be here in less than five minutes. He leaned forward, barking instructions into the speaker.

"I want two cruisers in the air-now! The incoming's communicator may have failed, so make visual contact and head it off. If it ignores you again, blast it out of the sky. No arguments, right? If it complies, take it south. Land it beyond the perimeter. I'll give further instructions then."

Yi Ching straightened up, voices sounding in the air, giving orders and confirming instructions, the mood of the room changed instantly, everyone happy now that something was happening.

He stared at the flickering point on the map screen and shook his head. Who would be so fucking stupid as to fly into their air space at such a critical moment?

He had a low opinion of the Minor Family princes-they were, after all, the most self-centered, arrogant, and stupid people on the planet- but this seemed out of character, even for one of them. At the same time, he simply couldn't believe this was a serious attack on the palace. There was no way a single cruiser could get through their defenses. It was in the air too long. It made such an easy and obvious target.

Unless . . .

He pressed the stud on his right wrist, putting him in direct contact with his Lieutenant in the Great Hall.

"Karlgren. Get the T'ang out of there now! Get him into one of the secure rooms and clear the Hall. I think the incoming is a diversion. Oh, and make sure Li Yuan and Wei Tseng-li are safe."

Yi Ching looked about him, seeing the startled expressions on the faces of the nearby men, but there was no time to explain.

"Captain Munk. Take over here. Make sure my instructions are carried out to the letter."

"Sir!"

Yes, he thought, running from the room, heading back to the Northern Palace, and let's hope to the gods I'm wrong!

THE SIRENS HAD STOPPED. In the central garden the crowd milled restlessly, the murmur of their voices filling the space between the walls of the ancient palaces. From the top of the steps to the Northern Palace, Prince Kung-chih looked on, the dour expression he had worn all day replaced by a smile of ironic amusement.All day he had had to play his uncle's creature, bowing and scraping, acting to his order, reading from his script, greeting his bride, but now- through no effort of his own-he had had the last laugh.

Until he died he would remember the look of anger on his uncle's face, the pure fire of exasperation-of denied expectation-in his eyes as they hustled him away and cleared the Hall, the ceremony unfinished, the woman not yet his bride.

And even though it had proved a false alarm, Kung-chih felt it was an omen-a sign that this marriage was ill fated.

You cheated me, he thought, thinking of that day beside the cliff. You led me to believe I was your heir, and then you cheated me. But I'll not relinquish it that easily. Oh, no. Not if you take a dozen wives.

Hearing voices behind him he turned, in time to see Colonel Yi and the three T'ang coming out from where they had been closeted these past few minutes. Yi Ching backed off a pace and bowed, then turned, letting them move past him.

Kung-chih straightened up, facing his uncle squarely as he came toward him.

"Nephew," Tsu Ma said, touching his arm gently, "I am afraid we must deal with this matter at once. If you would lead our guests into the Eastern Palace, I shall have Lao Kang arrange refreshments."

"And the ceremony, Uncle?"

Tsu Ma huffed, clearly upset, but his smile for his nephew was kind. "I am afraid the ceremony must be delayed until tomorrow, Kung-chih. It would be ... inauspicious to continue now, neh?"

"As you wish, Uncle," Kung-chih answered, bowing his head low, his face expressing grave disappointment, but inside he was exultant.

THE FOUR MEN stopped outside the cell, the camera swiveling automatically to cover them, its laser trackers beading all four of them.

"Are they here?" Tsu Ma asked, pulling at the knuckles of his left hand as if he wanted to strike someone.

Yi Ching hesitated, aware of Li Yuan's presence there beside his Master, then nodded. "The crew of the ship are elsewhere, Chkh Hsia, in separate cells. It seems they were acting under orders. However, as far as their Mistress is concerned-"

"Their Mistress?" Tsu Ma stared at his Colonel in disbelief. "You mean some damned woman did this?

Aiya! I'll have the bitch quartered!"

Yi Ching bowed his head, but glanced uneasily at Li Yuan. "Forgive me, Chkh Hsia, but I think you might wish to see her alone."

"Nonsense, Colonel Yi. The insult was not to me alone. My cousins deserve an explanation, neh?"

"Of course, Chieh Hsia."

Yi turned, motioning to the guards, who took turns to tap their personal codes into the lock, then place their eyes against the retinal scanner.

The cell door hissed open.Tsu Ma moved past his Colonel into the cell, then stopped dead, giving a gasp of surprise. On the bench seat facing him sat Fei Yen, her hands bound, a tracer-necklet glowing faintly about her neck. He turned, in time to see the flash of astonishment in Li Yuan's eyes as he, too, saw who it was.

"Fei Yen . . ." he said quietly, his voice incredulous. "What in the gods' names were you up to?"

She stared back at him with dumb insolence, then raised her hands, displaying the restraints.

"Unbind her!" Tsu Ma ordered, then turned to Wei Tseng-li. "Cousin, if you would leave this to us?"

Wei Tseng-li looked from one to the other, not understanding what was going on, then nodded. "As you wish, cousin. If you need me . . ."

"Of course," Tsu Ma said gently, giving him a troubled smile, then turned back, watching as a guard undipped Fei Yen's wrist restraints.

As the door slammed shut, he glanced at Li Yuan, then looked up at the overhead camera. "Surveillance off."

At once the red operating light vanished.

He turned, staring directly at Fei Yen, giving full vent to the anger he had been keeping in. "You/ What the fuck do you think you were up to, flying in without proper identification codes? Have you any idea what you've done? Aiya ... I'd like to know why I shouldn't just have you flogged and executed. You and your whole damned family!"

"I had to see you," she said quietly, her face hardened against his accusations. "Today. Before it was too late."

"Too late?" Tsu Ma laughed, exasperated. "Too late for what?"

"For my son ..."

"Your son? What has your son to do with this?"

"Because he's your son, too, Tsu Ma."

There was a long silence and then Tsu Ma laughed. But beside him Li Yuan was looking down, his lips pursed.

"No," Tsu Ma said finally, meeting her eyes, a cruel, unforgiving anger there. "I have no sons."

She looked back at him defiantly. "No, Tsu Ma? You can say that with absolute certainty?"

His chest rose and fell. For a moment it seemed he would say nothing, then, with a tiny glance at Li Yuan, he answered her. "I have no sons, Fei Yen."

"No?" She turned, pointing at Li Yuan. "Why don't you ask your cousin if that's true?"

Tsu Ma turned, looking at Li Yuan, his eyes pained, knowing that a sudden gulf had opened between them-one that, perhaps, might never be bridged-yet he spoke softly, as if to a brother.

"Is it true, Yuan? Is Han Ch'in my son?"

Li Yuan looked up, a profound sadness in his eyes. In an instant it had all come back to him: all of thehurt he'd felt, all of the bitterness and betrayal. But worse. For now he knew. Tsu Ma-his beloved Tsu Ma-had betrayed him.

He shuddered, then answered her, his voice toneless. "You are wrong, Fei Yen. It is as Tsu Ma says. He has no sons."

She stared back at him, disbelief in her eyes, then slowly shook her head, her eyes widening, understanding coming to her. "But . . . but you divorced me!"

He nodded. "I had to. Don't you understand? You were a weakness I could no longer tolerate. A cancer that was eating away at me. To be a T'ang and be subservient to you ... it could not be, Fei Yen. It simply could not be."

"Aiya . . ." There was pain in her face; pain at the realization of what had really happened. "Han Ch'in . .