Chasing the Phoenix, page 17
“It is only natural that I should be,” she said in a level voice. “Since I was a girl, I’ve had two dreams. One, held in common with most of my gender, was to have a handsome prince fall in love with me. Thanks to you, that has been achieved. You have my gratitude. The other and greater dream was to bring the brilliant machines of the past back to life. Thanks to the patronage of the Hidden Emperor, I have done that as well. Here before you is my masterpiece. When it is done, I can die fulfilled.”
“Surely that won’t be necessary,” Darger began.
But Surplus interrupted him. “You told me the phoenix device was nonfunctional.”
“That’s true. But it can be restored. See what splendid condition it is in. The Utopians really knew how to build weapons to last. Oh some of the wiring has to be torn out and redone. But my crew will have no trouble with that. The only real difficulty I see is this.” White Squall picked up a canister. “It contains tritium gas, which, as I’m sure you know, has a half-life of twelve point three years and is used to help achieve thermonuclear fusion. Even when the device was new, it had to be replaced periodically. Today, it is quite inert. This initially seemed to present a problem, but my people—”
Darger held up a hand. “Stop. I understand everything you say, one word at a time. But as for the meaning of those words in combination…”
“Such knowledge was commonplace among the Utopians,” White Squall said, “among whom you claim to have arisen. I find it odd you would not know it. If indeed you are as you say you are.”
“Like the Ancient Master of Deductive Reasoning, I consider the brain to be a room which one may stock as one chooses. A fool takes in all the furniture he can lay his hands on, and when he needs a specific item, cannot find it among the clutter. A sage, however, lays in only those tools he needs for his work, but in great number and perfectly ordered. Matters of strategy are of vital importance to me. But whether the earth goes around the sun or the sun about the earth is a matter of perfect indifference, so I do not bother to acquire this information.”
“To return to the subject at hand,” Surplus said, “it sounds like you are close to making the emperor’s Phoenix Bride functional.”
“We are doing well.”
“Is that why you summoned us? To witness your achievement?”
“Oh, no,” White Squall said. “I simply assumed you would be interested. You were summoned here because the Hidden Emperor wishes to speak with you. He is in the next room.”
* * *
SINCE THE plague began, nobody had seen the Hidden Emperor save for his personal servants, and, so far as Surplus knew, nobody had been summoned into his presence. It was widely speculated that he spent his time closeted with his bride to be (of whom all had heard and only a select few knew the truth about) in Yellow Crane Tower. But, as always, the actual location of the emperor was the most guarded secret in all his domain.
Yet by simply passing through a doorway, Surplus and Darger found themselves alone with the Hidden Emperor.
The room was small and tastefully decorated with furnishings that might equally easily be contemporary or several thousand years old. The red and black lacquered panels on the walls were painted in gold with alternating phoenixes and dragons, representing virtue and imperial authority. The emperor wore his usual scarves and dark glasses. He turned down an oil lamp and placed the book he was reading on a side table.
“You may remove your lab smocks and protective gear,” the Hidden Emperor said, unwrapping his scarves. He placed his glasses atop them. “They are required for the ancient purification rituals associated with the phoenix device, but not here.” He gestured at a pair of chairs. “Sit. We are all friends.” He laughed. “Oh, if you could see your expressions!”
They both sat, Surplus with the caution befitting an officer of middling rank, and Darger with the unconcern of a sage. “Why have you summoned us, Majesty?” the latter asked.
“I know your secret,” the Hidden Emperor said with a shrewd grin. “You are not immortals, as you claim to be.”
A cold chill ran up Surplus’s spine. “Sir?” he said. Darger, staying in character, showed none of the emotion he must surely be feeling.
“You are gods. Oh, minor ones, admittedly! But gods nevertheless. Would lesser beings be sent to help me gain the Dragon Throne? Of course not. It was particularly clever of you, Dog Warrior, to announce yourself as a god in the marketplace in Brocade and then confess to being a mere revenant of Utopian technology when presented to me. Anybody else would have been fooled by your subterfuge. But I see through all ruses and disguises, no matter how convoluted.”
“Your penetration is, as always, acute.” Darger made of his forefingers a steeple and touched them to his lips. “But we cannot comment on such matters. There are strictures placed upon us by powers even greater than we.”
“Let us talk of less perilous matters,” Surplus said. “Such as the Phoenix Bride.”
“You saw my fiancée? Is she not beautiful?”
“I forget if it was the Mathematician of Alexandria who said that geometry is beauty laid bare or the Father of Relativity who made this claim for physics,” Darger said. “She is, in either case, ravishing.”
“Tell us how you came to be aware of her existence,” Surplus suggested. Knowing that no man engaged to what he considers a great beauty is loath to discuss her.
“When I was a child, I dreamed of fire,” the Hidden Emperor said. “Smooth and liquid as flowing water, violent as the earthquake that shakes the mountain, driving all before it like a mighty wind. Sometimes I would evade my minders and go out into the fields and set the crops aflame. There are not many vices a prince cannot get away with. Setting fields on fire is one of them. So I had to be sly and evasive, and it was only rarely and with great subterfuge that I could slip away from my guardians and achieve the freedom to engage in my desires. Oh, but it was worth all the difficulties I underwent. The fire moves like quicksilver, hesitates, then rushes onward, tracing lines and sigils in the dry plants, and in one’s elated state it is possible to read some fraction of their meaning. Fire exalts the spirit. The dross of physical matter is transformed into light and heat and its smoke rises gently into the heavens. Have you ever seen a barn fire? Amazing! Particularly after harvest, when the barn is stuffed to the gills with hay. It goes up like a bomb and its flames touch the sky. You can hear it crackling a mile away.
“From the country I moved my ambitions to the buildings of Brocade. That was even more difficult, for city people are always on the watch for conflagration and the fire brigades come swiftly to douse the smallest outbreak. Once, however, I was able to torch a warehouse stuffed with leather goods, bales of cotton, barrels of grain alcohol. It burned all night and lit up half the city. The sky was overcast and flickered red. There were explosions and showers of sparks. Oh, but it was glorious. Though, admittedly, the stench was great.
“Afterward, I dreamed of it again and again.
“It was only when I came of age that I understood that fire was a metaphor for lust. Then, of course, I ceased my arsons in much the same spirit in which the respectable man, upon attaining adulthood, abandons the brothels and sexual adventures of adolescence and seeks out a virtuous woman to become his wife.
“We desire most what is unattainable. When I realized that my destiny was to conquer and rule, I set aside all thought of fire—for what firestorm, however glorious, however mighty, can truly be worthy of an emperor? Only one—that of the phoenix devices which the Utopians built for fighting their most glorious wars. And though those devices might yet exist, I knew they were hidden deep in the earth and that no living man knew how to make them operative.
“But then a miracle happened.”
“White Squall wrote her treatise on resurrecting ancient weapons,” Surplus said.
“Yes! Immediately, I sent out my best operatives to kidnap and bring her before me. She spoke most eloquently. I questioned her in great detail. Her answers were straightforward. She said the task would be expensive and time-consuming. She did not play down its difficulty. In return, I gave her money, time, and patience. Now, only a room away, she is proving herself the most valuable of my servants. In a day or three or possibly five, the Phoenix Bride will be ready to blossom into such a fire as has not been seen in this world for years beyond knowing. When she does, I will be with her, and my substance will be transformed into light and heat and my smoke will rise up into the heavens, intermingled with hers. Just as I dreamed as a child.”
“A moving tale,” Darger said, when it was clear that the Hidden Emperor had finished speaking. “But why do you share it with us?”
The Hidden Emperor leaned forward. “Though all men fear to give the emperor bad news, I have ways of learning it nonetheless. I know about the trick that Ceo Shrewd Fox played upon you, and how quickly the joyous plague spreads among my army. There are certain of my advisors who say that a week from now I will not even have an army at all. So you must tell me. You are gods and the ways of gods are unfathomable to mortals. Will you allow me to conquer China? Will I ride in triumph through the city we now call North, known in ancient times as Beijing? Or is it the will of heaven that I die here, in Crossroads? I would prefer to consummate my marriage with the Phoenix Bride in North, after having sat upon the Dragon Throne. But if destiny requires it, we can be wed here. It would be a lesser triumph than the one I had planned. But I am a philosopher. So long as I rise up into the skies to be reborn in alchemical fire, it will suffice.”
He waited.
“Majesty, China will be yours,” Darger said fervently, “and with it the city of North, and with the city of North the Dragon Throne, and with the Dragon Throne the Phoenix Bride. I say this in the names of—well, I cannot tell you our true names. The courts of heaven will not allow it. But this I can say: Destiny is on your side. It would be easier to stop the moon from rising or the tides from going out than to keep you from possessing China, North, the Dragon Throne, and the passionate, all-consuming embrace of the Phoenix Bride. Be patient, sire, and all that you desire will be yours.”
During his short speech, Darger had quietly risen to his feet. Now he joined hands together within the wide sleeves of his robes and bowed deeply. Surplus rose also from his chair and bowed as well.
The Hidden Emperor was breathing shallowly. But he only said, “You may don the ritual garments of purification once more and leave by the same way you entered. I am glad we had this little chat.”
* * *
WHITE SQUALL knelt at the foot of the phoenix device’s gleaming bronze shell, using needle-thin tools to perform some delicate operation on one of its components. Darger and Surplus pushed through her startled subordinates and crouched down to either side of her.
“We must speak,” Darger said, taking White Squall by the arm.
Surplus did the same with her other arm. “Outside,” he said.
They stood, hoisting White Squall up after them. Ignoring the sappers’ alarmed questions, Darger and Surplus marched her from the room, through several sets of doors, and out into the street. Furiously, White Squall ripped off her face mask. “How dare you treat a superior officer so! I will have you both court-martialed and flogged.”
“Must I remind you of the extravagant promises you made in Fragrant Tree, madam? Should I describe the strawberry-moon birthmark directly below the dimple on your left buttock?” Darger spoke quietly, to avoid being overheard, but with great intensity. “Or do you intend to admit that your word is worthless and your faith nonexistent? Have you forgotten, then, all that you swore to do for me in exchange for Prince First-Born Splendor’s love?”
Mastering herself with obvious effort, White Squall said, “You are right, and I apologize. But however will I explain what just happened to my people?”
“Explain nothing,” Darger said. “Life is full of mysteries. Your people will simply have to live with one more.”
“We cannot talk here,” Surplus added. When they had shed their smocks, socks, gloves, and masks, he led them toward the center of the city, through streets increasingly congested with carts and pedestrians, until suddenly he leaped forward and hauled one of the joyous ones out of the crowd, like a spear fisher triumphantly landing a salmon.
Smiling, the joyous one said, “If you do not release me, I will have you arrested, jailed, and tortured. I am on official business.”
“This is White Squall, the highest-ranking woman in all the empire to be,” Surplus retorted. “Only the Hidden Emperor can countermand her orders. Which he is unlikely to do, for she is his most loyal servant. And she desires that you take us immediately to someplace where we can converse in privacy.”
“The government maintains a private conversation garden for precisely such use,” the joyous one said. She took them there and over a short wooden bridge to a pavilion on a small island in a decorative pond. Brightly colored koi swam up at their approach, hoping to be fed.
“Can we be overheard here?” Surplus asked.
“Anything is possible, sir. But I cannot imagine how.”
“Have some tea sent to us—Dragon Well, finest quality—and then you may return to your previous business and forget you ever saw us.”
“No man is capable of forgetting such a command, sir. Quite the opposite, for the oddity of the request must surely fix the forbidden information in one’s memory. But I shall speak to no one of seeing you and behave as though I had not.”
The pavilion was empty. Choosing a table, White Squall and Darger sat down. By the time Surplus had satisfied himself that there was nowhere for an eavesdropper to hide and adjusted the blinds to provide the proper balance between light and privacy, a young woman had arrived with a pot of tea and three glasses.
“Well?” White Squall said, when the servant was gone.
“The Hidden Emperor told us that you will have the phoenix device operational within the week,” Darger said.
“That is true, and I feel proud of the accomplishment. There is not another woman in all of China who could have done as much.”
“Were you aware that the Hidden Emperor was considering setting it off immediately upon completion?”
“So soon?” White Squall looked sad. “Well, I have done my duty and, thanks to you, known the love of a prince as well. I was able to exercise my talents to their fullest, and that matters a great deal. It has been a rich, full life.”
Surplus could not help making an exasperated noise. “One that would be coming to an end soon, had the Perfect Strategist not convinced the emperor that the plague would inevitably be brought to an end, his enemies overcome, and his armies led to the conquest of North,” he pointed out.
“I have known happiness. Death is a small price to pay for that.”
“For a mechanic of your genius, it would not be difficult to render the device inoperative,” Surplus said.
White Squall looked shocked. “I couldn’t do that!”
Leaning forward to take both her hands in his, Darger said with all the persuasiveness he could muster, “You not only could, but must. Not for your own sake, not for ours, but for the sake of Prince First-Born Splendor. The path you are following ends with that splendid man, that admirable body, engulfed in flames. Dying in agony. Incinerated. Dead by your own doing, along with countless others. Is this truly what you want? I refuse to believe you can think of him and tell me it is.”
A single tear trickled down White Squall’s cheek. Otherwise, she might have been carved of marble.
“I know you feel yourself bound by your oath of loyalty, but—”
“It’s not that!” White Squall said with unexpected heat. She drew her hands out of Darger’s. “It’s not that at all. But—did you ever notice the white, star-shaped scar that the Hidden Emperor has on the knuckle of his left thumb?”
“I saw that it was there, of course,” Darger said. “But attached no particular significance to it.”
“He received that scar years ago, when I was new to his service and just beginning to unearth and restore ancient weapons of war for him. I was not so high in his confidences then, but was already rising fast. One day I was making a presentation to the emperor—he was still king then, of course—about the military uses of the newly recovered crushing wheel. It was an intimate meeting with just the Hidden King, myself, and my second-in-command, whose task was to hold up the diagrams and indicate specific statistics as I spoke. The king, who was very serious about such matters, was listening intently and at the same time absentmindedly playing with a small spotted kitten. An exquisite little creature, it goes without saying, a Bengal. That afternoon was the first time he removed the scarves in my presence, revealing his face, and I was very conscious of the honor being shown me.
“I was delineating what size and strength of walls would fall before the crushing wheel when something I said made the Hidden King slam a hand down on the table with pleasure. Unfortunately, the hand came down on the kitten’s tail. It spun about and sank its teeth in his thumb.
“In a flash of rage, the Hidden King grabbed the kitten in one hand and crushed the life out of it. His face was like a demon’s. I am convinced he didn’t know what he was doing until it was over.
“It seems a small and insignificant death now, after so many, but it was shocking at the time because it was so unexpected. I remember that I gasped in horror.
“The Hidden King dropped the dead kitten on the table and said, ‘Say nothing of this.’ Then he left.
“My second-in-command was a woman named Dutiful Chrysanthemum. Like me, she was of the laboring class. As a mechanic she was unsurpassed, even better than I was, though my imaginative powers were greater than hers. People assumed we were lovers because we spent so much time together working on machines and because people are idiots. We were not. But she was my most valued subordinate.
“Tragically, she was a gossip and a chatterer. That evening I went looking for Dutiful Chrysanthemum because I had discovered a flaw in some stress vector calculations she had made. I found her in the kitchen, with a plate of dumplings, regaling a scandalized scullery girl with the details of the kitten’s death.
