“Do you think we could live here, Major? It’s not a subtle question. Do you think our people could be happy?”
“Oh.” Major Oliver looked at him for some time. “Ah.”
Winter walked across the room and looked out another window, this one facing south. Battered brick tenements, faded banners, balconies covered in chimes and charms and flowering plants. Farther away, the concrete strings of the abandoned LRT line arcing by. Over in the west, the empty asphalt and the gutted barracks where ninety-six of his men had died. Or was it ninety-seven? “I just wonder about the rain.”
“I don’t pretend there aren’t problems with the Southside,” Major Oliver said carefully. “But I would be sad to see it vanish. If you’re thinking of moving our people here, I would not like to see that. I am very sure that whatever makes us what we are, as individuals and as a community, could not survive such a transplantation.”
“I like you, David. You answer my questions even when you think I’m crazy.” Winter turned away from the window. “I agree. You cannot escape your shadow, however fast you run. Major, in your professional opinion are we likely to recover Emily?”
“At all? Or alive?”
“Either. Both.”
“Sir, I think the chances of getting her back are very poor. By this time she has either died in the Forest, found a safe haven there which we cannot penetrate, or slipped out beneath our guard. If she’s in the Forest, we have no hope of getting her. If she’s outside the wood, we can only hope she stays alive long enough to betray her location and allow us to capture her unharmed.” Major Oliver shrugged. “The only thing we have going for us now is Emily’s impatience.”
Winter laughed. “Yes. She won’t sit on her butt in a tree house forever. Not my Em. But my instincts run with yours, David. Christ, the mess you handed me when your men lost her back home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Winter rubbed his forehead. At least he had passed through the need for sleep. He could feel the fatigue consuming his body, like a long slow flame licking firewood, but it seemed to be attacking his limbs directly, eating his strength but leaving his mind clear. “If we don’t have Emily, then I have a problem. My gut tells me I’m running out of time. We have fulfilled our contract with Chinatown. We’ll wait another day or two and then pull out. If you can’t produce Emily by then…”
“Sir?”
“I shall have to pursue another option to placate the North Side,” Winter said. “Not one I like, but that’s the hell of it in this life. I have asked too many sacrifices from the people of Southside to fail them from a lack of nerve.”
“Would you care to explain your backup plan?” Major Oliver said.
“No,” Winter said. “I would not.”
“Sir, Intelligence ought to know. Not me as an individual, necessarily. But the service.”
Winter shook his head. “It’s easier to follow orders if you don’t understand the reasoning behind them, Major. Once you know the reasons, you are obliged as a thinking being to judge their validity.” He smiled briefly. “Frankly, David, on certain issues I am much too old and wise to be interested in your input. You’re Orthodox, aren’t you?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good,” Winter said. “I’m not a believer myself, but I like subordinates who are. I find Orthodoxy builds up a muscular capacity for faith, and a fine appreciation of sacrifice.”
“Not to mention a great deal of reverence for the teachings of old men,” David added drily.
Winter laughed. “That too,” he said.
“Why did you kill the ambassador, Li Bing?” David asked. Winter did not answer. “Was it an accident? Were you angry about Emily’s disappearance? Did she insult you? Or did you…had you guessed already that our men had been betrayed?”
Winter looked out the window. “You are dismissed, Major.”
“…Yes, sir.”
And still it rained.
Chapter
Twenty-four
A staff sergeant escorted Water Spider back to his cell. The Chief Minister, once Purse, was waiting there. “Huang Ti!” Tears sprang unexpectedly to Water Spider’s eyes. “You came to see me?”
The Honorable Minister for the Interior looked up. His fleshy face was fearful, pale and sweaty. The cot was gone; the surgical table was back in its place. An IV loomed at its head.
“You are free to leave,” the sergeant said in English.
Relief flooded Huang Ti’s face. “Double fortune! You think different, ah?”
“We regret the inconvenience.”
A long silence. Slowly Huang Ti turned to face Water Spider. “Oh, no,” he breathed.
Headless ghosts gathered in Water Spider’s stomach.
“I have been expecting you,” Huang Ti said, switching to Cantonese. Deliberately he wiped the sweat from his wide forehead. “When the Snows roused me from my bed and took me to Winter, I thought of you. When I would not betray my people, they brought me here. They were going to torture me, I thought. I told myself it was no more than just punishment for my cowardice in letting them keep you here. At least, I thought, I will have company. For if I, poor fat Huang Ti, could choose to resist, then surely the great Water Spider would also. What was that line you used to quote to us, Minister? ‘If a man in the morning hear the right way, he may die in the evening without regret’?”
Water Spider’s mouth went dry. “They asked you about making an alliance with a Power.”
“But you did not resist, did you, Spider?”
It was not possible that Water Spider could have done less than the odious Huang Ti. Huang Ti who cheated on his wife. Huang Ti who loved perfume too much. Huang Ti who hoarded his taxes.
The Purse’s fleshy head shook in disbelief. “All these years you had us fooled. The virtuous one. The principled man. But you are no better than your father.”
“Shut up!”
“I think you should go now,” the sergeant broke in.
“Coward!” Huang Ti yelled. “You—”
“Shut up! Shut up! You don’t understand, you fat fool! They were going to bring in the barbarians,” Water Spider said.
Huang Ti with his two chins had resisted? Not possible.
“Of course they said that!” the Minister for the Interior shouted. His face was purpling with outrage. “Are you insane? Are you stupid enough to believe they would dare after what the barbarians did to their men? And even if the Snows did make an alliance with Downtown, this is Chinatown, you fool! No Power rules here save the Three.”
Huang Ti had resisted. Huang Ti had refused to go along with Winter. This knowledge hit Water Spider like a kick in the stomach. He strained to breathe.
Huang Ti was yelling at him. “The barbarians could never hold what they tried to take. What do you think the Dragon would have done? Or the Lady? Or Double Monkey? You think they would be content to draw their pensions—Old Gods, just go now and read books, thank you?”
“They—they would have learned, anyway,” Water Spider whispered. “On the table. You can’t hide things from them.” But was that true? You couldn’t hide anything from the Snows, on their drugs, but you couldn’t think, either. And it had taken thought for him to address their problem.
“You didn’t even try,” Huang Ti said contemptuously. “They did not have to lift a finger.”
The sergeant took Huang Ti firmly by the arm and led him to the door. “Goodbye, Minister.”
Huang Ti shook his arm free. At the door he turned, and gave Water Spider a deep, mocking bow. “Sleep well, Borders. Rest assured that our people will know to whom they owe the coming peace. I do not know what price you got for selling us to the Snows. Perhaps they will reward you with a post. I doubt it, though. Not even the rat-killer loves his poison.”
He left. Petty, boastful Huang Ti. Who had resisted.
The sergeant followed Huang Ti out, closing the door behind him. Water Spider was alone. He stood on the cold concrete floor. From the drain under the surgic
al table came the gurgling of hidden water.
Huang Ti who had resisted.
But the Snows would have figured it out, surely? They had to ally themselves with one of the local Powers. They couldn’t treat with Double Monkey, they had nothing to offer the Lady; it had to be the Dragon, that was obvious; any child could have told them that.
But it hadn’t been any child. It had been him.
Trickle, trickle.
It had been raining while Water Spider sat in Winter’s office. He wondered if it was raining still.
He was going to be found out. He was going to be found out. The Lidded Eye, Johnny Ma, old Grace Shih—Huang Ti would tell them all. And everyone would know that it was he who brought the Mandarinate to an end. A pretender would sit in the holy dragon chair and they would all know it was because of him.
Stop. Stop. Disgusting, to think of your own shame when the larger good of the people is at stake. Think of the people you failed, not of yourself and your little reputation.
Even Jen, even the drunks and the whores would look down on him. His whole life of service gone like smoke before a wind of shame. Even Pearl, halfway to a whore herself; she would be glad, glad she turned him down.
Stop! You disgust me.
He reached out and touched the IV stand. The steel was cool beneath his fingers. A half-full wrinkled bag of clear fluid hung at the top, dripping.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Even the rat-killer does not love his poison.
You can’t use a woman like a whore and then expect to be loved for it.
You didn’t lift a finger.
You didn’t lift a finger.
The straps and cinches hung loosely from the table, like his father’s belts and robes, askew after days of drinking. Your father has been a warrior and a poet. What have you done? You cannot even remember what he is trying to forget. Our generation was forged in a hotter fire than any you have ever known. Parents must be stronger: we carry our children on our backs.
He had failed the test.
He had failed the test.
“The superior man is satisfied and composed; the mean man is always full of distress.” “The determined scholar and the man of virtue will not seek to live at the expense of injuring their virtue. They will even sacrifice their lives to preserve their virtue complete.”
Water Spider considered hanging himself. It might be possible, if he were ingenious. He would have to be quick and quiet, so as not to alert the guard outside the door. He deserved to die.
Coward. You are only running again.
No, that isn’t it, it’s justice I am thinking of—
Vile thing. You are thinking of your reputation. You merely flinch at the thought of your disgrace. Desist. This shame is of your own making. Claim it. Shame is the only son you will ever sire. What can I do, kneeling in the garden, But eat these stones?
Some hours had passed when Claire knocked softly on the door. “Hello?”
“Come in,” Water Spider said. “Why do you bother to knock? Courtesy in a jailer is only arrogance.” I have no walls; I am only doorways, only windows. I am an empty house and the wind blows through me. I will hide in my empty apartment like a spider on the baseboards.
The people will know to whom they owe the coming peace.
He will tell everyone.
“I’m happy to see you, too.” Claire yawned. “Congratulations, you’re a free man. I’m to escort you to your home. Major Oliver’s orders.”
Even if they did make an alliance, this is Chinatown, you fool. No Power rules here save the Three.
I cannot go into the streets, not in daylight. It must be dark, dark enough to creep through the rain like a spider at the baseboards, no one to see me, even the whores, even Jen and Pearl—she’ll be glad she didn’t marry me.
Use a woman like a whore and expect to be loved?
“Thank you.” Water Spider found he was sitting on the edge of the table. He let himself down. The cold concrete pressed against his feet. He heard the distant murmur of water, deep down below.
You didn’t lift a finger.
If only he had waited, if only he had refused, then they would have tied him to this table and maybe with the drugs in his blood he wouldn’t have been able to think, he couldn’t have told them any more, just babble, just the sound of wind through the branches, shutters swinging, bamboo chimes.
“Hey? Are you all right?”
“Fine, thank you. But I will not be going just yet. I find myself still somewhat tired.”
“What?” Claire blinked. “What were you going to do? Crawl up on that metal table and take a nap?”
Water Spider edged back toward the corner of the room. “I will not leave at this time. Thank you. You may go.”
“Do you have a fever? Let me feel your forehead.”
“Get away! Get away from me! You can’t make me go, I can’t, I can’t,” Water Spider cried. “They’ll see me.” Claire’s hand touched him and he collapsed, hunched into a ball in the corner of the room. “I want to die.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I tell you my life is over!” he shouted. “I sold the man I was—he is gone. There is nothing to come back to. The house is empty. Huang Ti will tell everyone I didn’t lift a finger. They will know who to thank for the coming peace. Even fat stupid petty Huang Ti, I betrayed him too.” He felt her hands on his wrists. He struggled for an instant, then abruptly stopped. Of course he was no match for her strength. He would have laughed, if he hadn’t been crying. “You do not know,” he said. “You cannot know what it’s like.”
She knelt before him on the floor, her hands on his, their foreheads almost touching. “Hey,” she said softly. “Can I tell you one thing?”
“You do not understand.”
“Can I tell you just one thing?”
His chest was heaving with astonishing sobs. The tears flowed out of him, he who before the white goddess came had not cried since he was ten years old, and he was powerless to resist them; he did not lift a finger, he was a coward and he let them come, running from the dark emptiness inside.
“Can I tell you one thing?”
He wept. It was like dying, to cry like this. The surrender was appalling and the river went back forever.
“You’re not that important,” Claire said. She held his shoulders. “Nobody cares.”
“T-they, th-they will.” He had to fight to talk. To breathe, even. Anything.
“Well,” she said, “I don’t care, anyway.” A little grave smile on her white face. Her pale blue eyes, like cold water in bone china.
“You don’t?”
“About you? Not a tinker’s damn. Couldn’t care less.”
A smile on his face, spun up on the river of tears—he had no control over his face anymore; it might say anything. Who knew what the river would throw forth next? “You swear it?”
“I do,” Claire said. “I solemnly swear not to give a good goddamn. Just some guy who needs a bath, as far as I’m concerned.”
He laughed while weeping.
“Major Oliver got me thinking,” she said, some time later. “Why did my mother take me to you, that night outside the barracks? It must have been part of her plan somehow.” Water Spider did not answer. “We do the work the gods give us,” Claire went on. “You don’t know whose work you’re doing. You don’t even know what you’ve done. Not really. So, to hell with it. That’s what I say.”
“‘Where—’” He stopped to get his breath. “‘Where is this fleeting consequence you’ve tangled your life in?’”
Gently Claire let go of his shoulders and sank back on her knees. “Why on earth would The Harrier have brought me to that corner at just that moment? Was it to get Pearl back? Or to get Jen caught by the demon, for that matter?”
Water Spider blinked. His face still ran with tears. He wiped them off with the sleeve of his robe. What a fool he had made of himself.
Claire s
at before him, waiting for an answer. “Do you have any ideas? What do you think The Harrier was showing you?”
Water Spider beheld her kneeling before him, ill-dressed in a white jumpsuit uniform, graceless and unrefined, sardonic and helpful. “A cup of tea,” he said.
Chapter
Twenty-five
“Wire? Wire?”
A little hand fell on Wire’s shoulder. Jiggle jiggle jiggle jiggle. “Are you awake?”
“Unnh. ’Sleep.”
“Oh.”
Wire dropped back into sleep as if weighted with bricks. There had been tremendous activity in Government House all night long. She had spent most of it awake and worrying. Only in the last hour before dawn had sleep finally ambushed her, striking like a blow to the back of the head.
Jiggle jiggle jiggle jiggle.
“Hn!” Wire’s brain felt stunned, smacked around between sleep and waking. Slow green ichor was oozing in her veins instead of blood.
Oh, sweet gods. Sunday morning.
“Wy-errrr!” Lark’s straight black bangs tickled Wire’s cheek.
“What! What do you want?”
“You’re awake.”
Wire glared through gummy eyes.
“Wy-errr, I want to tell something.” Lark paused.
“What! What?”
“We-e-e-e-ll…Is it morning yet?”
Wire whimpered. “No, it is not morning yet! Go to sleep.”
“Oh.”
Blessed silence.
“Wire—”
“Shh!” Wire hissed. “You have to be quiet so people can sleep!”
“Oh.”
Lark’s little feet pattered away.
Another day with Lark. Sweet gods.
Wire turned to the wall. “Time?” The room didn’t answer. Shit. What time was it, anyway? She could hear the murmur of people coming and going beyond the little shrine room, but they did that in the middle of the night, too.
She thought about getting up and asking the guard at the door.
A guard at the door! As if she would try to escape. Where would she go with a three-year-old? She had pointed this out to David Oliver at length, but he seemed to feel it was appropriate to have a watchman there. Wire had argued the point right up to the moment when she realized what he would never say: that the guard wasn’t there to keep a little girl and an attractive woman prisoner in the room; he was there to keep Southside soldiers out.