The Emperor's Tomb

EIGHTY-TWO

MALONE SIPPED BLACK TEA AND ALLOWED THE PAIN IN HIS shoulder to ease. A makeshift sling had been fashioned to hold the joint in place. He’d need to see a doctor once they left this stronghold.

Three hours had passed since Viktor had died. He’d spent half an hour inside the makeshift tomb of Qin Shi, admiring a jade burial suit, along with stunning funerary objects.

Ni Yong sat with him on the terrace. Beyond the low wall, an afternoon sun tinted the mountains in shades of red, black, and yellow. The air remained mild, a gentle breeze flapping some nearby prayer flags. He’d kept a close watch on a marble sundial that stood a few feet away. It sat on a circular base, supported by four square pillars.

“Every temple in China,” Ni said, “has a sundial. It is a reminder that virtue should shine at all times, like the sun at high noon. Good advice that we long chose to ignore.”

“Do you believe what Pau Wen said to you?”

“Not a single word.”

“I was hoping you weren’t that foolish.”

“There is a story that we are all taught in military training,” Ni said. “A great warrior named Chao led 40,000 troops to besiege a town defended by a tiny force that was commanded by an opponent named Zhang. After forty days the town’s residents were trading their children for food. But Zhang refused to surrender and even beheaded the officers who advocated that course. Eventually, Zhang’s forces ran out of arrows, so he ordered the residents to make a thousand life-sized straw figures, clothed in black. Then, one night, he lowered the figures down over the city walls on ropes. Chao’s forces loosed tens of thousands of arrows at what they at first thought were escaping enemies. The arrows stuck in the straw figures, which were hauled back inside. Zhang’s forces went from a total lack of ammunition to a plentitude.”

“Smart guy.”

“There’s more,” Ni said. “Later that same night Zhang sent 500 of his bravest men down the ropes. Chao’s side thought they were the straw men again and paid no attention. Zhang’s men stormed Chao’s camp and chopped off the heads of the sleeping enemy. Chao’s forces were thrown into disorder and retreated.”

He caught the point.

Ni said, “Zhang transformed a passive position into a potent one. I remembered that lesson when talking with Pau Wen. We were out of ammunition, so I lowered a decoy and drew Pau’s fire, reloading our weapon. He is anxious to be on the winning side, so I used his anticipation.”

He could not argue with that strategy.

“But I will eventually ‘shut the door to catch a thief.’ ”

He smiled, knowing what that maxim meant. “Encircle the enemy. Close off all escape routes.”

Ni nodded. “We were taught that, too. But there are five things to remember while doing that. First, to close the door you must have an absolute superior concentration of forces. Second, there has to be a door to shut. Third, you cannot wait passively for the thief to enter. He has to be lured. Fourth, the door has to be shut at the proper time so the thief is truly shut inside. And fifth, all other outlets of escape must be closed, too.”

He realized what Ni had done. “So you rocked Pau to sleep.”

“As he tried to do to me in Belgium.”

“That whole thing of denying Tang an oil sample. He was plying every angle, trying everything he could. He didn’t give a damn about you.”

Ni nodded. “He is a liar and a cheat. I have simply used his own weapons against him. But what choice did I have? We are on his turf. This is an uncertain place. He offered to be my ally, so I accepted. But I assure you, when the time is right I shall close all the doors.”

“What about all that ‘not using violence’ stuff?”

“Men like Pau Wen are why China is failing. They are a cancer on our society. It is time they receive exactly what they so easily like to give. Legalism is nothing more than opportunism. It relies on force and terror to generate respect. I will give them what they already understand, what they have long proclaimed to be the only way to govern. That seems only right.”

Malone agreed.

“If I have to drop the pants of every man in government and the military, I will purge China of all eunuchs.”

He heard the change in Ni—a confidence that had not been there before—and asked, “You’ve thought about this a long time, haven’t you?”

“I’ve watched while stupid, selfish, petty men destroy our country. They are, to a man, corrupt. That will stop. I’ll use the Ba to my advantage, until the time is right to eliminate them.”

He hoped this man could actually do what he proposed. But he was curious, and Washington would want to know. “Is democracy in your plan?”

“That word has many negative connotations here. It has, for so long, been used to generate hate. But the people will have a say in the new government. We will be accountable from the top down.” Ni smiled. “Democracy actually owes much to Confucius.”

“You seem ready.”

Ni nodded. “I spoke to the premier a little while ago. He will have me elevated to the second post. He is glad Tang is gone, and will support my purge of the Ba, when the time is right. Pau has greatly overestimated his worth in today’s China. His day is over.”

“This is not my thing,” Malone said. “I couldn’t play all of these games.”

Ni grinned. “It is China, Malone. Our way. Unfortunately, deception is organic to our way of governing. I would like to change that, too, but that will take a little longer.”

“You do know Viktor Tomas worked for the Russians and the Americans?”

“I am not surprised. But with their agent dead, neither one of those foreign powers will learn anything.” Ni paused. “Beyond what you and Ms. Vitt report.”

He caught the word agent, as applied to Viktor.

Damn right he was an agent.

“What about Sokolov?” he asked.

Cassiopeia was with the Russian and his son, making sure they were okay.

“He will be returned to Lanzhou and his laboratory, with the oil sample. He says he will cooperate with me. Of course, the lingering threat from the Russians plays to our advantage. He understands they want him dead. He and his son are returning to Kashgar with me. His wife is anxious to see the child. I am having her flown west as we speak. I will do all I can to protect them, and gain his trust.”

“Keep a close watch on him.”

“We shall. But when I tell the world of his discovery, I doubt the danger will be there any longer.”

“You’re really going to do that?”

Ni nodded. “It is the only course. That realization should change the world, to everyone’s advantage.”

“And place China in a different light in everyone’s eyes.”

“We can only hope.”

Which should satisfy Washington. Ivan? Too damn bad. “What about Pau Wen and those four murders?”

“They will not be forgotten.”

He was glad to hear that. “Why did you trust us in Xi’an?”

Ni shrugged. “Something told me that you and Ms. Vitt were people I could rely on.”

Malone thought of Henrik Thorvaldsen and wished his old friend had died thinking the same thing.

“I’m leaving for Kashgar shortly to meet the premier,” Ni said. “He and I are returning to Beijing together. I’ll make sure a helicopter returns for you and Ms. Vitt.”

Ni stood and extended a hand. “I thank you. I owe you my life.”

Malone shook his hand and waved off the gratitude. “Just do what you said you were going to do.” But there was one other thing he wanted to know. “If I had not come along, would you have slit Pau’s throat?”

Ni did not immediately answer, as if seriously considering the inquiry. Finally, he said, “I’m not sure. Thank goodness we didn’t have to find out.”

He smiled.

“Take care, Mr. Malone.”

“You, too.”

Ni disappeared through an open doorway, heading back inside. He understood why he and Cassiopeia weren’t leaving with him.

Time to fade into the background.

As all agents do.

Malone had read about a sky burial. Dicing a corpse into pieces, beating it to a paste with flour, tea, and milk, then allowing carrion to feast on the mixture represented a return to fire, water, earth, and wind, the basic elements of man. A great honor.

He and Cassiopeia stood and watched the ancient ceremony. A couple of hours ago Viktor’s body had been brought outside the walls, to a nearby valley, and prepared.

“Our brothers are trained in the jhator,” Pau said. “It is a ritual we have performed many times.”

“Are you really going to help Ni Yong?” Malone asked.

“Legalism? Confucianism? Communism? Democracy? An emperor? Or an elected president? Our problem for the past sixty years is that no single concept or philosophy has dominated. Instead we have languished in an uncertain middle, bits of each vying for control. Chinese fear chaos. We despise uncertainty. We have many times accepted the wrong system in the name of certainty.” Pau hesitated a moment. “At a minimum, Tang and Ni offered a clear choice. Now it has been made. So the Ba shall be Ni’s ally.”

“Where I was raised,” Malone said, “there’s a saying. Don’t go through your asshole to get to your appetite. Maybe the Chinese can learn from that.”

Pau smiled. “Is that wisdom from one of your great American philosophers?”

“A group of them, yes. They’re called rednecks.”

“What’s to prevent someone else from simply taking Tang’s place?” Cassiopeia asked. “Surely he has followers ready to take up the cause.”

“No doubt,” Pau said. “But this is not America or Europe. Those followers have no access to media, nor to the Party hierarchy. Those privileges have to be earned, over many years of loyal service. Politics here is a personal journey, one that takes an excruciatingly long time. Tang’s own rise required nearly twenty years.” Pau shook his head. “No. Minister Ni is now the only one poised for ultimate power.”

Which Ni well knew, Malone thought. He was disappointed that he would not be around when Pau Wen received a dose of his own medicine.

“You sound confident,” Cassiopeia said.

“Fate has intervened on China’s behalf.”

“You don’t really believe that?” he asked. “Fate? You determined most of this.”

Pau smiled. “How else could all of our involvement be explained? Isn’t it odd that we were each in the precise location, at the precise time, to precisely affect the outcome? If that is not fate, then what is?”

Ni’s assessment of Pau seemed correct. He did overestimate his worth. And you didn’t have to be a genius to understand the ramifications of that mistake. But that wasn’t Malone’s problem. His job was done.

Half a dozen brothers encircled Viktor’s prepared remains, chanting, incense wafting from copper vessels.

Overhead the vultures had arrived. “Can we go?” Cassiopeia asked.

They left before the birds arrived and walked back toward the monastery across rocks and cobbles littered with ribbons of pale green grass. Neither one of them turned to see what happened.

“I was wrong about Viktor,” he quietly said.

“That was an easy mistake to make. He was tough to read.”

“Not in the end.”

“He took himself out with Tang, counting on me to land the kill shot,” she said.

He’d thought the same thing.

“I heard what he said as he turned,” she said.

You take care of her.

He stopped.

So did she.

He said, “We’ve played a lot of games.”

“Too many.”

“What do we do now?”

Her eyes were pools of water. “Strange. You and I having this conversation while Viktor is dead.”

“He made his choice.”

She shook her head. “I’m not so sure I didn’t make it for him. When I tossed that knife down. That’s what really gets me. He played many parts to many different audiences. You have to wonder, were those final words just more of the act?”

Malone knew the answer. He’d seen something she could not have witnessed. At the moment of his death, Viktor Tomas finally conveyed the truth.

You take care of her.

Yes, indeed.

She stared at him, seemingly summoning the courage to reveal something. He sympathized with her. His thoughts were likewise muddled. When he’d believed she was dead, a future without her had seemed unimaginable.

“No more games,” she said.

He nodded.

He cupped her hand in his. “Cotton—”

He silenced her lips with two fingers. “Me, too.” And he kissed her.