Outlanders 39 Hydra's Ring, page 17
Kane began pacing the big room in agitation. "It looks like we're stopped before we start."
"Take it easy," Brigid told him with an encouraging smile. "There's nothing to be done now but wait. You shouldn't stress."
"I don't stress," he snapped.
"She didn't seem to want to get acquainted," Kane observed sourly.
"Does she expect us to take care of her patient?" Grant demanded, voice thick with angry impatience.
"We at least ought to introduce ourselves," Brigid said. "The Chinese place a lot of emphasis on etiquette:'
She and Lakesh cautiously stepped up to the foot of the bed and a low moan of terror greeted them. "Hello," Lakesh said quietly in Mandarin. "We will not hurt you. Do not be afraid. Perhaps we can help you."
Because of the mosquito netting and the shadows, they couldn't see the woman's face clearly, but they received the impression she was old and wrinkled, with white hair tied back. Brigid started to push aside the netting but the old woman cringed, clutching at the sheets and drawing them up to her chin.
Lakesh laid a restraining hand on Brigid's arm. "Perhaps we should leave her alone until she becomes accustomed to our presence."
Brigid nodded and they joined their companions on the far side of the room. They opened an equipment case and passed around ration packs and bottles of water. Seng Kao abstained, lighting a joss stick before a stone good-luck tiger-dog placed upon a tiny altar. He murmured a few words of prayer, then went to stand near an open window. He stared resolutely out, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Disappointed that Erica—the Dragon Mother— wasn't here to give you a big hug with her scaly arms?" Kane asked him.
"Yes, you do," she replied with calm detachment. "Big-time."
Kane knew she spoke the truth, but it still rankled him He knew he shouldn't feel worried, not in the company of Grant and Brigid Baptiste Lakesh had once suggested that the trinity they formed when they worked in tandem seemed to exert an almost supernatural influence on the scales of chance, usually tipping them in their favor.
The notion had amused Kane, since he was too pragmatic to accept such an esoteric concept, but he couldn't deny that he and his two friends seemed to lead exceptionally charmed lives, particularly he and Brigid.
Kane shied away from examining the bond he shared with Brigid. On the surface, there was no bond, but they seemed linked to each other and the same destiny. He recalled another name he had for Brigid Baptiste: anam-chara. In the ancient Gaelic tongue it meant "soul friend."
From the very first time he met her he was affected by the energy Brigid radiated, a force intangible, yet one that triggered a melancholy longing in his soul. That strange, sad longing only deepened after a bout of jump sickness both of them suffered during the mat-trans jump to Russia. The main symptoms of jump sickness were vivid, almost real hallucinations.
He and Brigid had shared the same hallucination, but both knew on a visceral, primal level it hadn't been gateway-transit-triggered delirium, but a revelation that they were joined by chains of fate, their destinies linked. The idea that he and Brigid had existed at other times in other lives had seemed preposterous at first. Perhaps it still would have if he hadn't experienced the same jump dreams as her, which symbolized the chain of fate connecting her soul to his.
It had required nearly a year before the two very different people achieved a synthesis of attitudes and styles where they could function smoothly as parts of a team, extending to the other professional courtesies and respect.
Although they never spoke of it, though Kane often wondered if that spiritual bond was the primary reason he had sacrificed everything he had attained as a Magistrate to save her from execution. The possibility confused him, made him feel defensive and insecure. That insecurity was one reason he always addressed her as "Baptiste," almost never by her first name, so as to maintain a certain formal distance between them. But that distance shrank every day.
During the op to the British Isles, when Kane had protested to Morrigan that there was nothing between him and Brigid, the Irish telepath had laughed at him. She said, "Oh, yes, there is. Between you two, there is much to forgive, much to understand. Much to live through. Always together... she is your anam-chara."
He wasn't sure if believed that, but he knew he always felt comfortable with Brigid Baptiste, despite their many quarrels. He was at ease with her in a way that was similar, yet markedly different than his relationship with Grant. He found her intelligence, her iron resolve, her well-spring of compassion and the way she had always refused to be intimidated by him not just stimulating but inspiring. She was a complete person, her heart, mind and spirit balanced and demanding of respect with anything reasonable. He felt trapped by the wait, but there was nothing he could do about it unless he decided to embark on a door-to-door search for Erica. Intellectually he understood waiting was part of the life he had chosen to lead—you hurried up so you could wait, just like in the Mags. He swore explosively and fetched the gate a frustrated kick.
Brigid Baptiste was one of the toughest human beings he had ever met. For a woman who had been trained to be an academic, an archivist and had never strayed more than ten miles from the sheltering walls of Cobaltville, her resiliency and resourcefulness never failed to impress him. Over the past few years, she had left her tracks in the most distant and alien of climes and breasted very deep, very dangerous waters. A little gray kitten came waddling out of an overturned wooden bucket, yowling in annoyance that its nap had been interrupted. It stumbled up to Kane's boot and for lack of anything better to do, he picked up the small cat, absently stroking the top of its head with his thumb. Almost immediately, it began to purr, eyes closed in bliss, tiny mouth curved in a smile.
Kane found the thought of losing that person too horrifying to contemplate, not just because of the vacuum she would leave in the Cerberus personnel, but because of the void her absence would leave in his soul. "How'd you manage to stay out of the stew pot?" he asked it softly. "Or is that just one of the cultural misconceptions Baptiste talks about?"
An hour passed. The heat of the day built quickly, and the big room turned stiffing. Kane shucked out of his heavy coat, although the thermal controls of the shadow suit kept him comfortable. Still, the scent of the incense irritated Kane's sinuses. Grant, whose sense of smell was impaired due to having his nose broken three times in the past, sat down in a papa-san chair and appeared to nod off. Seng Kao continued to stand at the window and stare, as if he were utterly entranced by a scene only he could see. For the next few minutes, Kane occupied himself with petting the little animal and checking it over for fleas and ticks. The kitten cooperated with the grooming, twisting this way and that within his hands.
Desperate for a breath of fresh air, Kane went out into the courtyard and carefully peered over the top of the gate. Once again the village seemed almost deserted, and he wondered if the Chinese observed an Oriental version of the siesta, even though it was still early in the day. He was so engrossed that at first he paid no attention to the distant roar of engines, hovering at the very edge of audibility. Then he recalled he had seen no vehicles anywhere in or around the village, and his uneasiness exploded into a raging alarm. The noise grew louder and he spun, rushing back into the house, slamming the door open with a shoulder, still carrying the kitten.
He debated their next move, but he couldn't come up with anything.
Everyone looked up at him, startled. "I think Wei Qiang has just arrived," he announced grimly.
Lakesh made a studiedly casual show of consulting his wrist chron. "He made good time."
"Why the hell wouldn't he?" Grant growled, pushing himself to his feet. "It's not like he's been delayed by fighting river pirates."
Brigid's emerald eyes flitted back and forth from Kane to Lakesh to Grant. "Do we just sit tight and hope Wei Qiang will be put off by a notice from the local board of health?"
"If he's here at all, that means he wants Erica badly. A sign on a gate won't be much of a deterrent." Kane glanced toward Seng Kao, who had slowly turned away from the window. Even though the man's face was its usual immobile mask, he sensed a change in him.
Seng Kao swallowed and said reluctantly, "I must agree, Tui Chui Jian."
"I'm afraid I must, as well," a melodic female voice declared from behind them. "You have served me splendidly, Seng Kao."
The four outlanders recognized the vibrant tones of the voice, as well as the subtle note of autocratic authority underscoring it.
Kane's head swiveled on his neck so sharply that his neck tendons twinged in pain. He saw the figure thrusting aside the mosquito netting, pulling away the white, lank-haired wig to reveal black, lustrous hair piled up like a crown atop her head. With her other hand she peeled away the layer of painted rice paper adhering to her face.
She stood much taller than most Chinese women, long legged and statuesque with endowments the white silk smock could not conceal. Her violet eyes gleamed with a strange, dark luminosity.
Seng Kao rushed to her and dropped to one knee, bowing his head. In an adoring, reverent whisper, he said, "I live only to serve you, Tui Chui Jian."
Chapter 20
Astonished into speechlessness, they stared at Erica van Sloan, who stood with her shoulders square and proud. Her sculpted features, devoid of cosmetics, looked like an ivory mask, serene, confident and just the slightest bit smug. Dropping the wig and the rice-paper disguise to the floor, she said, "I hope you've not been too uncomfortable here."
Kane's lips peeled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. He took a menacing step forward. "Not half as uncomfortable as we're going to make it for you."
Erica made a motion with both hands as if she were smoothing the smock over her hips. A small, utilitarian pistol, a Makarov, seemed to pop into her fist. Kane froze in mid-step.
"Don't move, please. It would be unfortunate for you and your little friend." The pistol didn't waver in her grip.
The kitten mewed an interrogative, and Kane carefully set the animal on the floor. "You take a lot of stupid chances, Erica."
"A lot fewer than you do," she countered coldly. "What was the remark about me making a good Ho?" "Oh, that." The snarl on Kane's face molded itself into a somewhat abashed grin. "I kid the Dragon Mother...I kid."
Erica sighed, her bosom straining at the fabric of the smock. "In the interests of an alliance—" She tossed the gun behind her onto the bed. Every movement was a careful and practiced gesture.
"Was it very difficult finding me?" she asked.
Seng Kao took it upon himself to answer. "No, Dragon Mother."
Erica touched him gently on the head and he rose, turning to face the outlanders with an imitation of Erica's smug smile ghosting over his lips.
"You knew she was here all the time," Grant snapped accusingly.
Seng Kao shook his head. "No, but I realized the old lady was the Dragon Mother as we came in."
"How?" Brigid asked, green eyes glinting with suspicion.
Erica unpinned her hair and shook it loose. It tumbled down to hang like twin black curtains on either side of her face. "My followers and I share a special bond."
"The SQUIDs interface," Lakesh intoned. "It's nothing more special than that."
"So the monk lied to us," Grant said darkly. "So flinch for piety."
One corner of Lakesh's mouth lifted in a smile. "Not wally, friend Grant. Tai Mi said an old woman whose son had deserted her lived here. That's basically the truth, even if neither Erica nor I look our ages."
Waving an immaculately manicured hand, Erica replied, "None of that matters, Mohandas. In a short time, Wei Qiang will dispatch his soldiers on a door-to- door search, and I'd prefer not to be here."
She stepped behind the dressing screen as Kane said sharply, "I notice you haven't asked about the Hydra's ring."
"Is there a reason I should?" She slid out of the smock and peered at him over the wooden frame.
"Aren't you the least bit interested whether I brought it with us?" Lakesh asked.
"No...because you wouldn't be here otherwise."
Kane opened his mouth to voice a profane question when a machine gun began to hammer in the distance. Everyone jumped, turning to look out the window.
"I guess it's safe to assume that Wei Qiang is announcing himself," Brigid said quietly.
Erica stepped out from behind the screen, adjusting the satiny midnight-blue-and-red uniform tunic, carrying stilt-heeled boots with her. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she began tugging them on. "We need to get out of here as quickly as possible."
"And go where?" Grant demanded impatiently.
"The Tomb of the Three Sovereigns," she answered without hesitation.
Lakesh blinked at her in confusion. "Why would we go there?"
She favored him with a small, careful smile. "Because that's where we'll find the mausoleum of Shi Huangdi... and the Armor of Immortality."
BRIGID FROWNED thoughtfully. "So you think that's Wei Qiang's objective...the Armor of Immortality?"
Erica grimaced as she worked her foot into the boot. "It's the obvious conclusion to reach, isn't it?"
"Not to me," Grant declared. "Who the hell is Shi Huangdi?" He stumbled a bit over the pronunciation.
"He was allegedly one of the Yellow Emperor's direct descendants, a grandson," Brigid replied. "Also known as Ren Wen Chu Zu, which means 'founder of civilization.'"
"Yes," Erica said dryly, stamping her foot on the floor. "He ascended to the Chinese throne at the age of thirteen, over three thousand years ago, and he immediately began construction of his mausoleum, which was completed thirty-six years later."
"What was so special about him'" Kane asked.
Brigid answered, "Shi Huangdi was remembered as the ruler who united the seven warring clans of ancient China in 221 BCE, and his reign was marked with great advances in all sections of society—from the construction of roads and canals to the connection of the various border walls of his kingdom into the one Great Wall.
"He also standardized the systems of writing, of weights and measures, and of currency in order to simplify communication and record-keeping. He abolished feudalism, forcing the nobles to reside under his thumb in the capital city, and divided the rest of China into thirty-six separately governed provinces, each with its own bureaucracy and defensive military. He also fostered religion, sacrificing to the gods in thanks for his military and diplomatic successes in finally uniting China and completing the work his grandfather, the Yellow Emperor, had begun."
"He sounds like a great man," Lakesh commented.
Brigid smiled wanly. "Shi Huangdi was also a tyrannical despot and ruled with an iron hand for many years, implementing draconian laws and levying large tax rates to oppress the commoners of ancient China and maintain and solidify his tenuous grasp on the monarchy. He ordered that all books of a non-technical nature be burned, in an attempt to eliminate the teachings of Confucius and the education system that accompanied Confucianism.
"In his final years, Shi Huangdi became quite withdrawn and mystical, much like the Yellow Emperor. He surrounded himself with magicians and alchemists, providing them only one task—to find or create an immortality formula. Shi Huangdi became increasingly maniacal near his death, and wanted a means that would allow him to rule as a divine emperor forever, to continue the work of his ancestor. But he died—broken, insane and alone—after a trip to Japan in search of his essential elixir of life in 210 BCE."
Kane squinted in confusion. "If the man died, then why do you think he would have the Armor of Immortality in his damned tomb?"
Erica stood up, sweeping him with a scornful stare. "You're just not getting this, are you, Kane? I think Wei Qiang, Huang-ti and Shi Huangdi are the same man."
"And you believe he faked his death as Shi Huangdi?" Lakesh asked.
"I believe he faked his death many, many times over the centuries," Erica answered matter-of-factly. "I thought that would have occurred to one of you by now."
"For the sake of argument," Brigid said icily, "let's assume your hypothesis is correct. Why would Wei Qiang need the Hydra's rings and the Armor of Immortality if he's already immortal?"
A woman screamed in the distance, a high, sustained note of terror that was abruptly cut off. Grant and Kane went to the front window and looked out. The sporadic crackle of gunfire reached them, sounding closer.
"We'd better find another place for hypothesizing," Grant stated grimly, turning to eye Erica. "I hope you have one in mind."
"Not much of one." Erica lifted the corner of the mattress and removed a carved wooden box from beneath it. "A small cove down on the river where I have a boat prepared."
Lakesh stepped forward, eyes on the box. "What's in that?"
Smiling slyly, she shook it. Objects rattled within. "Seven very old and very ugly rings...do you have one you'd like to add to the collection?"
His hand went reflexively to his chest. "Not at the moment."
Kane shrugged back into his coat. Brigid picked up the equipment cases and handed the one containing the interphaser to Lakesh Impatiently she said, "Lead on, I )ragon Mama."
The group of people left the house by the front door, but eased out of the compound through a rear gate. The sun was just past its zenith in the blue sky, starting its downward arc toward afternoon. Looking toward the village, they saw yellow-uniformed soldiers advancing along the road, running and crouching as if they expected an ambush to be mounted from the houses along the way. They watched as the troopers crept cautiously up to the doors of the homes and kicked them in.
"They're not taking any chances," Brigid said. "From what I've seen of Wei Qiang," Erica replied, "he's a thorough man:'
"That wasn't the impression we got," Kane commented.
Erica's eyes widened, then narrowed. "You've met him?"
"Yeah," Grant answered casually. "Over three years ago, on the island of Autarkic. He's a tong warlord, and he looked like he had both feet and his legs in the grave back then."
