"I am glad you came," Tsu Tao Chu said, when they were alone again. "The situation . . ."

Li Yuan touched his arm, understanding. Tao Chu had not been born to rule. The deaths of his half-brother and his uncle had come as a double blow. Nor had he been given any time to prepare himself for such a mighty responsibility. All this was new to him. Even so, he was a good, upstanding young man. If anyone could shoulder such a burden, Tsu Tao Chu could, surely?

"It is okay, Tao Chu. Together we shall make sense of this, neh?"Tao Chu smiled. "I have prepared the Northern Palace for your people, Yuan. If that is insufficient-"

"It will be fine," Li Yuan said quickly. "But before I do anything else, I must pay my last respects to your uncle."

"Of course."

Tao Chu led him through, past grieving servants and into a dark, cool hall in which the funeral bier had been set up, the casket open to the air. Li Yuan went across and stood there over it, looking down at his old friend, finding it hard to believe that he was dead. The poison had left its mark on Tsu Ma. His face seemed much older than Yuan remembered it, and the hair-the hair was almost gray. He sighed, then turned to Tao Chu again.

"Have you found out yet who did this thing?"

"I have the man. I racked him, made him sing."

Li Yuan stared at Tao Chu, surprised by the unexpected hardness in his voice and face.

"And his Master?"

"You know his Master well, cousin Yuan. Your armies fight him even now."

Li Yuan gave a tiny nod, then looked back. For some reason the memory of an evening, years before, came back to him-of Tsu Ma and himself in a boat on the lake at Tongjiang, with Fei Yen and her cousin, Yin Wu Tsai, the lanterns dancing in the darkness. What a night that had been. What a beautiful, entrancing night.

He grimaced, then turned away, torn between the jealousy he felt- the anger at Tsu Ma's betrayal-and the love he'd had for him.

You were tike a brother to me, he thought, as if addressing Tsu Ma in his head. Why, then, did you take my bride away?

As if in answer, the words from Ch'u Yuan's "Heavenly Questions" floated into mind.

Dark Wei followed in his brother's footsteps and the Lord of You-yi was stirred against him. . . .

In a sense it was true-he had taken his brother's wife, and in turn his brother-Tsu Ma-had done the same to him.

But now it was done with. Death had paid all debts. Now he could let that matter go and remember his cousin with affection.

He turned back, bowing deeply to Tsu Ma, his hands pressed together, palm to palm, as he offered his respects, then he looked to Tao Chu and nodded.

"There is much to do, cousin Tao. We had best begin at once."

KARR HAD BEEN expecting the order for some time; even so, as he unsealed Rheinhardt's handwritten letter and read its contents, he felt his heart sink, the spirit go out of him. He was to abandon Mannheim and go at once to Bremen, taking whatever forces remained at his disposal.

This is it, he thought sadly, folding the letter and slipping it into his tunic pocket. Another day and all is gone. On whim he took out the picture he carried and looked at it, studying the smiling faces of his girls.He kissed it fondly, then returned it, and, calling his Duty Captain to him, began to issue orders.

"It is no good," Li Yuan said, pointing to the southern half of the map, indicating the five remaining tiny islands of black around Bordeaux, Lyon, Turin, Ravenna, and Belgrade. The rest was solidly white now- more than two thirds of the City; almost everything beneath the ancient Loire and Danube rivers-while to the north, Li Min had made encroachments in at least a dozen places. "We shall have to let them go. Issue the order now, General Rheinhardt. I want all of our forces pulled back above the Seine in the west and the Danube in the east."

"But Chieh Hsia," Rheinhardt began, appalled by the thought of relinquishing so much.

"You have your orders, General. Now do it. And get Karr on the screen. I have a use for him."

Rheinhardt bowed and left the room, leaving Li Yuan alone with Nan Ho and Tsu Tao Chu.

"Was that wise, Chieh Hsia?" Nan Ho asked quietly. "Rheinhardt knows what he is doing, and those garrisons . . . well, they have served to tie up a great number of Li Min's troops."

"And a great number of ours too," Li Yuan said, leaning across the map and drawing an imaginary line from west to east with his finger. "No, Master Nan. It is time from drastic measures. What is lost is lost.

We must conserve what can yet be saved. Li Min's new forces have swung the balance heavily against us. Yet all is not lost. Until now we have been hampered by the need to hold down a vast area, to try to police it even as we wage a war. But now that responsibility is Li Min's. He must now subdue those parts of the City he has conquered. That will tie up more and more of his forces, while our own will be freed to defend what remains. Moreover, if we keep our forces here in the north, in this section"-he indicated a swath of territory less than a quarter of the City's total size-"then we also have the advantage of keeping our supply lines short."

Nan Ho studied the map a moment, then shrugged. "Even so, Chieh Hsia-"

Li Yuan snorted. "Aiya, Master Nan! Must I constantly be held back by you and your even so's? We must draw a line to preserve it. If we fail . . ."

Tsu Tao Chu stared at the map a moment, then nodded. "A line, cousin? Why not a physical breach . . .

some kind of gap?"

Li Yuan stared at him awhile, then smiled. "Yes! A gap-as about Tunis! We could destroy a line of stacks . . . here." He drew the line again with his finger, this time more definite, his eyes shining with excitement. "We could make a break two U wide and defend it ... as if we were fighting a fire."

He looked to Nan Ho. "Have we still got those stocks of ice-eaters that were confiscated that time?"

"We have, Chieh Hsia, but-"

"No buts, Master Nan. The idea is an excellent one. And Karr . . . Karr's the man to implement it, neh?"

Nan Ho looked to his master, imploring him with his eyes to drop the idea, but Li Yuan was adamant.

After a moment Nan Ho bowed his head. "Very well. I shall arrange it, Chieh Hsia."

Tsu tao C H U sat in the window seat, chewing a thumbnail, while Li Yuan paced the room in front of him, reading the latest reports.

That evening Tao Chu was to be appointed T'ang of West Asia in an official ceremony in the Hall of Celestial Virtues. But by then, it seemed, West Asia would be gone and he would be T'ang of nothing.Nothing but these ancient stones.

After two hundred years of peace Asia had fallen into darkness once again. Warlords had divided the great continent among them, reacting to the scent of blood like sharks in a feeding frenzy. The twin cities, once the jewels of Chung Kuo, now burned, and tens of millions died each hour as the darkness fell.

"Is it bad?" Tao Chu asked, looking up to him, a youthful innocence in his eyes.

Li Yuan sighed. "It could not be worse, Tao Chu. It is all slipping away from us. It might be best if we prepared to take our courts . . . off-planet."

"Off-planet?" Tao Chu looked alarmed. "As bad as that?"

Li Yuan nodded.

Tao Chu got up suddenly, then, with a polite smile and bow to Li Yuan, made to go past him to the door, but Li Yuan held his arm.

"Cousin? Where are you off to in such a hurry? I thought we might talk."

Tao Chu looked down, embarrassed. "Forgive me, Yuan, I ..."

Li Yuan smiled. "I remember the first time we ever met. It was after your grandfather Tsu Tiao's death.

You were . . ."

"Eight . . . and you twelve." Tao Chu nodded thoughtfully, then looked to Li Yuan with a smile. "I remember that I gripped your arm, I was so afraid. I thought that my uncle"-he shivered, a look of pain flickering across his eyes-"I thought he had killed Tsu Tiao. I did not know it was only a GenSyn copy."

"Was that the first time you had encountered death?"

Tao Chu nodded. "I remember you explained it all to me. Why my uncle Ma had to kill the image of his father to become his own man. Yet I never truly understood. Not deep down. To kill one's father . . ."

He shuddered.

Li Yuan reached out and held his shoulder gently. "The first of the craft from Tongjiang will be here shortly. Perhaps you would like to come and greet them with me?"

Tao Chu shook his head, his eyes avoiding Yuan's. "I ... I would prefer to get some rest, cousin. I ... it has been a very trying day for me."

Li Yuan bowed. "I understand. The times take much from us, neh?"

Tao Chu bobbed his head in response, then, with a strange, pained glance at his cousin, went to the door and out.

Li Yuan stood there awhile, staring at the open door, wondering if there were anything he could do to ease his young cousin's suffering. Then, with a heavy sigh, he went out to meet the incoming craft.

THE FIVE CRAFT came in from the east, in tight formation. Li Yuan, watching from the parapet above the Eastern Gate, saw the faint wisp of smoke that came from the exhaust of the central craft and, at the same time, heard the slight difference in the tone of its engine, and knew at once that something had happened.

He hurried across, lifting his silks so he could run, the honor guard exerting themselves to keep up withhim. As he came to the hangars, they were already disembarking. Li Yuan made his way through until he stood before the Commander of the flight, who was busy examining the damage to one of his craft.

"What happened?" he asked, staring past the Captain at the smoke-blackened side of the cruiser.

The Captain spun around, surprised, then bowed low. "Forgive me, Chieh Hsia. We were attacked coming over the Uzbek plantations . . . three ships out of Tashkent. We gave them the imperial codes, yet they attacked all the same. Deliberately, it seems."

Li Yuan nodded, sobered by the thought. Before today it would have been unthinkable that an imperial cruiser would have been attacked by security forces, but today the unthinkable was finally happening.

"We lost two ships, Chieh Hsia, but none of the transporters was harmed. Not in any serious way, that is."

"And the attackers?"

"We destroyed them, Chieh Hsia."

"Good. You will be rewarded for your actions, Captain. You and all your men."

Li Yuan turned, looking around him, seeing at once the face of his son, Kuei Jen, staring down at him through the portal of one of the other cruisers. He went across, greeting the boy at the bottom of the ramp, picking him up and hugging him, relieved that he was safe. In the hatchway beyond the boy stood his wife, Pei K'ung. He stared at her, then nodded, strangely pleased that she had survived.

"What is the news from Tongjiang?" he asked, setting his son down and facing her.

"Tongjiang has fallen. A thousand dead, so they say. The news was full of it as we flew across. Another half hour and we ourselves would not have escaped."

"Ah . . ." He felt a heaviness descend on him. A thousand dead. And Tongjiang itself . . . gone. He felt like weeping at the thought. But at least his family had survived.

Cling on to that, Li Yuan, he told himself. For many men this day have emerged from this with far less than you. Millions are dying even as you stand here with your son, your wife. So give thanks to all the gods you know.

He shivered, then stretched out a hand to her. She hesitated, then came down, taking his hand, surprised, for it was the first gesture of kindness he had shown her since that night weeks ago when she had shared his bed.

"Forgive me, Pei K'ung," he whispered, drawing her close. "I have not been myself."

She drew back slightly, meeting his eyes. "There is nothing to forgive, my husband."

"And my cousin, Wei ... is there any news of him? The rumors . . ."

"Wei Tseng-li is dead," she said, the solemnity of the words filling him with dread. "We taped all of the newscasts as we flew over. The pictures . . ." She shuddered physically. "They are most disturbing. They strung him up, like an animal. That lovely man . . ."

He grimaced and closed his eyes, then reached out, holding the two of them to him-his wife, his son.

After a moment he looked up again, meeting her eyes. There were tears there, as in his own. "Then there are just the two of us now. Tsu Tao Chu and I. Two T'ang and but a single City. That is, if my own Citysurvives the night." "And if it falls?"

Li Yuan looked away, his left hand gripping his son's shoulder fiercely, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

"Then we must leave Chung Kuo and go elsewhere."

HE HAD SEEN the demonstrations. One moment the ice was a solid thing, the next . . .

Karr shuddered. They were hovering above the City's roof, the hold of the cruiser packed with cylinders of the stuff. Two hundred and forty cruisers in all-more than half their remaining strength-had been loaded up and flown into position along a line from Le Havre in the west through Nurnberg and Dresden to Stettin in the northeast. Now he had only to give the order and the spraying would begin.

There was no time to evacuate. No time to give the people down below any chance to escape, for to do so would be to tip off Lehmann. And if he knew . . .

"Okay," he said, leaning toward the cockpit's control panel. "Let's get this over with. Begin spraying."

Karr turned, then clambered up, going to the left-hand portal to look out as the chemicals began to fall like a mist of fine rain onto the City's pure white roof. And where it touched . . .

He caught his breath, then groaned. It was unbearable to watch. He could see them far below him, jumping as the levels slowly melted. As in a dream . . . the ice melting beneath the fine spray that fell from the heavens, the levels vanishing just as if they'd never been.

He sat down heavily, closing his eyes, trying not to imagine it, but it was no use. He could see them still.

All of those people . . . thousands, hundred of thousands of them, falling through a dissolving mist of ice, falling like stones, downward to the earth.

He groaned. He had done many foul things in the service of his T'ang. He had killed and lied and sold his soul a hundred times, but this-this was the nadir.

He stood, forcing himself to look once more, to bear witness. Behind them a great space had opened up, like a canyon between two smooth plateaus of ice, a cross section of the levels exposed by the acidlike mist. And where the mist still fell, the City seemed to sink into the earth as layer after layer shimmered into nothingness.

Like earth in a sieve, he thought, trying to find the words to describe what he was seeing-trying not to go crazy at the thought that those tiny black shapes were human beings.

I gave the order, he thought, stunned by the enormity of it. Yes, it was I who gave the order.

For a moment longer he watched, then, swallowing down the bile that had risen in his throat, he went back through and sat, staring out at the whiteness that stretched ahead of him, trying hard not to think of all those down below who, in a blink of the eye, were about to learn what their Master, the great T'ang, had decided for them.

THE cruiser DESCENDED slowly, sinking into the space between the Cities. Below, a vast army waited in the late evening gloom, rank after rank, their bright red uniforms standing out against the forlorn silver shapes of what had once been the City's supporting columns. The mass of men stretched into the distance, their number filling the two-li gap between the massive walls. Ten thousand brightly colored banners fluttered in the wind that blew down that vast artificial canyon. Torches flickered in the twilight, then, at a signal, drums rolled and trumpets blew. As one the masses came to attention.Looking out through the cockpit of the cruiser, Lehmann studied the host below. Eight hundred thousand men there were. To the west, in the shadow of Rouen, a further million waited, while to the east, at Eberswalde, an army of four hundred thousand were gathered.

In an hour it would begin. As darkness fell he would make the final push; would hammer the final nail into the great T'ang's coffin. He nodded, then turned to Soucek, who stood in the doorway behind him.

"So here we are, Jiri. A few hours more and all is ours."

Soucek, recalled only an hour past from his labors at Bremen, bowed respectfully.