"David Wingrove - Chung Kuo 3 - The White Mountain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wingrove David)

He had been standing there more than two hours when a servant came. He knew at once that it was
serious; they would not have disturbed him otherwise. He felt the tenseness return like bands of iron
about his chest and brow, felt the tiredness seep back into his bones. "Who calls me?"

The servant bowed low. "It is the Marshal, Chieh Hsia."
 He went out, shedding the darkness like a cloak. In his study the viewing screen was bright, filled by
Tolonen's face. Li Shai Tung sat in the big chair, moving Minister Heng's memorandum to one side. For a
moment he sat there, composing himself, then stretched forward and touched the contact pad. "What is
it, Knut? What evil keeps you from your bed?" "Your servant never sleeps," Tolonen offered, but his
smile was halfhearted and his face was ashen. Seeing that, Li Shai Tung went cold. Who is it now? he
asked himself. Wei Feng? Tsu Ma? Who haw they killed this time?

The Marshal turned and the image on the screen turned with him. He was sending from a mobile unit.
Behind him a wide corridor stretched away, its walls blackened by smoke. Further down, men were
working in emergency lighting. "Where are you, Knut? What has been happening?"

"I'm at the Bremen fortress, Chieh Hsia. In the barracks of Security Central." Tolonen's face, to the
right of the screen, continued to stare back down the corridor for a moment, then turned to face his T'ang
again. "Things are bad here, Chieh Hsia. I think you should come and see for yourself. It seems like the
work of the Ping Tioo, but. . ." Tolonen hesitated, his old familiar face etched with deep concern. He
gave a small shudder, then began again. "It's just that this is different, Chieh Hsia. Totally different from
anything they've ever done before."

Li Shai Tung considered a moment, then nodded. The skin of his face felt tight, almost painful. He
took a shallow breath, then spoke. "Then I'll come, Knut. I'll be there as soon as I can."

IT WAS HARD to recognize the place. The whole deck was gutted. Over fifteen thousand people
were dead. Damage had spread to nearby stacks and to the decks above and below, but that was
minimal compared to what had happened here. Li Shai Tung walked beside his Marshal, turning his
bloodless face from side to side as he walked, seeing the ugly mounds of congealed tarтАФall that was left
of once-human bodiesтАФthat were piled up by the sealed exits, conscious of the all-pervading stench of
burned flesh, sickly-sweet and horrible. At the end of Main the two men stopped and looked back.

"Are you certain?" There were tears in the old T'ang's eyes as he looked at his Marshal. His face was
creased with pain, his hands clasped tightly together.

Tolonen took a pouch from his tunic pocket and handed it across. "They left these. So that we would
know."

The pouch contained five small, stylized fish. Two of the golden pendants had melted, the others
shone like new. The fish was the symbol of the Ping Tiao. Li Shai Tung spilled them into his palm.
"Where were these found?" "On the other side of the seals. There were more, we think, but the heat. . ."
Li Shai Tung shuddered, then let the fish fall from his fingers. They had turned the deck into a giant oven
and cooked everyone insideтАФmen, women, and their children. Sudden anger twisted like a spear in his
guts. "Why 7. What do they want, Knut? What do they want?" One hand jerked out nervously, then
withdrew. "This is the worst of it. The killings. The senseless deaths. For what?"

Tolonen had said it once before, years ago, to his old friend Klaus Ebert; now he said the words
again, this time to his T'ang. "They want to pull it down. All of it. Whatever it costs."