jamesclavell.noblehouse-第130章

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　〃Oh？　I　didn't　see　you。　Where　were　you？〃
　〃Down　by　the　stairs；〃　Ah　Fat　cackled。　〃Eeeee；　I　took　good　care　to　hide　but　I　wanted　to　look　at　him。　Huh！　You　send　your　poor　old　slave　out　into　the　wet　with　my　poor　old　bones　when　what　does　it　matter　if　I'm　here　or　not？　Who's　going　to　get　you　sweetmeats　and　tea　or　drinks　in　bed　when　you've　finished　your　labors；　heya？〃
　〃Oh　shut　up！　Shut　up！〃
　〃Don't　shut　up　your　poor　old　Mother！　She　knows　how　to　look　after　you！　Ah　yes；　Little　Empress；　but　it　was　quite　clear　on　both　of　you　the　yang　and　the　yin　were　ready　to　join　battle。　You　two　looked　as　happy　as　cats　in　a　barrel　of　fish！　But　there　was　no　need　for　me　to　leave！〃
　〃Foreign　devils　are　different；　Ah　Fat。　I　wanted　him　here　alone。　Foreign　devils　are　shy。　Now　make　the　tea　and　keep　quiet　or　I'll　send　you　out　again！〃
　〃Is　he　going　to　be　the　new　Master？〃　Ah　Fat　called　out　hopefully。　〃It's　about　time　you　had　a　Master；　not　good　for　a　person　not　to　have　a　Steaming　Stalk　at　the　Jade　Gate。　Your　Gate'll　shrivel　up　and　bee　as　dry　as　dust　from　the　little　use　it　gets！　Oh；　I　forgot　to　tell　you　two　pieces　of　news。　The　Werewolves　are　supposed　to　be　Macao　foreigners；　they'll　strike　again　before　the　new　moon。　That's　what　the　rumor　is。　Everyone　swears　it's　the　truth。　And　the　other's　that；　well；　Old　Cougher　Tok　at　the　fish　stall　says　this　foreign　devil　from　the　Golden　Mountain's　got　more　gold　than　Eunuch　Tung！〃　Tung　was　a　legendary　eunuch　at　the　Imperial　Court　in　the　Forbidden　City　of　Peking　whose　lust　for　gold　was　so　immense　that　all　China　could　not　satisfy　it；　he　was　hated　so　much　that　the　next　emperor　heaped　his　ill…gotten　gains　on　him　until　the　weight　of　the　gold　crushed　him　to　death。　〃You're　not　getting　younger；　Little　Mother！　We　should　be　serious。　Is　he　going　to　be　the　one？〃
　〃I　hope　so；〃　Orlanda　said　slowly。
　Oh　yes；　she　thought　fervently；　faint　with　anxiety；　knowing　that　Linc　Bartlett　was　the　single　most　important　opportunity　of　her　life。　Abruptly　she　was　petrified　again　that　she　had　overplayed　her　game　and　that　he　would　not　e　back。　She　burst　into　tears。
　
　Eight　floors　below；　Bartlett　crossed　the　small　foyer　and　went　outside　to　join　the　half　a　dozen　people　waiting　impatiently　for　a　taxi。　The　torrent　was　steady　now　and　it　gushed　off　the　concrete　overhang　to　join　the　flood　that　swirled　in　a　small　river　down　Kotewall　Road；　overflowing　the　gutters；　the　storm　drains　long　since　choked；　carrying　with　it　stones　and　mud　and　vegetation　that　came　off　the　high　banks　and　slopes　above。　Cars　and　trucks　grinding　cautiously　up　or　down　the　steep　road　splashed　through　the　whirlpools　and　eddies；　windshield　wipers　clicking；　windows　fogged。
　Across　the　road　the　land　rose　steeply　and　Bartlett　saw　the　multitude　of　rivulets　cascading　down　the　high　concrete　embankments　that　held　the　earth　in。　Weeds　grew　out　of　cracks。　Part　of　a　sodden　clump　fell　away　to　join　more　debris　and　stones　and　mud。　One　side　of　the　embankment　was　a　walled　garage　and；　up　the　slope；　a　half…hidden　ornate　Chinese　mansion　with　a　green　tiled　roof　and　dragons　on　its　gables。　Beside　it　was　scaffolding　of　a　building　site　and　excavations　for　a　high　rise。　Beside　that　was　another　apartment　block　that　vanished　into　the　overcast。
　So　much　building；　Bartlett　told　himself　critically。　Maybe　we　should　get　into　construction　here。　Too　many　people　chasing　too　little　land　means　profit；　huge　profit。　And　amortized　over　three　years　…　Jesus！
　A　taxi　swirled　up；　careless　of　the　puddles。　Passengers　got　out　and　others；　grumbling；　got　in。　A　Chinese　couple　came　out　of　the　entrance；　shoved　past　him　and　the　others　to　the　head　of　the　line　…　a　loud　chattering　matron　with　a　huge　umbrella；　an　expensive　raincoat　over　her　chong…sam；　her　husband　meek　and　mild　alongside　her。　Screw　you；　baby；　Bartlett　thought；　you're　not　going　to　take　my　turn。　He　moved　into　a　better　position。　His　watch　read　10：35。
　What　next；　he　asked　himself。　Don't　let　Orlanda　distract　you！
　Struan's　or　Gornt？
　Today's　skirmish　day；　tomorrow　…　Friday　…　tomorrow's　the　ball…breaker；　the　weekend's　for　regrouping；　Monday's　the　final　assault　and　by　3：00　p。m。　we　should　have　a　victor。
　Whom　do　I　want　to　win？　Dunross　or　Gornt？
　That　Gornt's　a　lucky　man　…　was　a　lucky　man；　he　thought；　bemused。　Jesus；　Orlanda's　something　else。　Would　I　have　quit　her　if　I'd　been　him？　Sure。　Sure　I　would。　Well　maybe　not　…　nothing　happened。　But　I'd've　married　her　the　moment　I　could　and　not　sent　our　child　packing　to　Portugal　…　that　Gornt's　a　no…good　son　of　a　bitch。　Or　goddamn　clever。　Which？
　She　laid　it　out　nice　and　clean　…　just　like　Casey　did　but　different　though　the　result's　the　same。　Now　everything's　plicated；　or　simple。　Which？
　Do　I　want　to　marry　her？　No。
　Do　I　want　to　let　her　drop？　No。
　Do　I　want　to　bed　her？　Sure。　So　mount　a　campaign；　maneuver　her　into　bed　without　mitments。　Don't　play　the　game　of　life　according　to　female　rules；　all's　fair　in　war　and　war。　What's　love　anyway？　It's　like　Casey　said；　sex's　only　a　part　of　it。
　Casey。　What　about　her？　Not　long　to　wait　for　Casey　now。　And　then；　is　it　bed　or　marriage　bells　or　good…bye　or　what？　Goddamned　if　I　want　to　get　married　again。　The　one　time　turned　out　lousy。　That's　strange；　I　haven't　thought　about　her　in　a　long　time。
　When　Bartlett　had　returned　from　the　Pacific　in　'45　he　had　met　her　in　San　Diego　and　married　within　a　week；　full　of　love　and　ambition　and　had　hurled　himself　into　beginning　a　construction　business　in　southern　California。　The　time　was　ripe　in　California；　all　forms　of　building　booming。　The　first　child　had　arrived　within　ten　months　and　the　second　a　year　later　and　a　third　ten　months　after　that；　and　all　the　while　working　Saturdays　and　Sundays；　enjoying　the　work　and　being　young　and　strong　and　succeeding　hugely；　but　drifting　apart。　Then　the　quarreling　began　and　the　whining　and　the　〃you　never　spend　any　time　with　us　anymore　and　screw　the　business　I　don't　care　about　the　business　I　want　to　go　to　France　and　Rome　and　why　don't　you　e　home　early　have　you　a　girl　friend　I　know　you　have　a　girl　friend。　。。。〃
　But　there　was　no　girl　friend；　just　work。　Then　one　day　the　attorney's　letter。　Just　through　the　mail。
　Shit；　Bartlett　thought　angrily；　it　still　hurting。　But　then　I'm　only　one　of　millions　and　it's　happened　before　and　it'll　happen　again。　Even　so　your　letter　or　your　phone　call　hurts。　It　hurts　and　it　costs　you。　It　costs　you　plenty　and　the　attorneys　get　most；　get　a　good　part　and　they　cleverly　fan　the　fire　between　you　for　their　own　goddamn　gain。　Sure。　You're　their　meal　ticket；　we　all　are！　From　the　cradle　to　the　goddamn　grave；　attorneys　kite　trouble　and　feed　off　your　blood。　Shit。　Attorneys're　the　real　plague　of　the　good　old　U。S。　of　A。　I've　only　met　four　good　ones　in　all　my　life；　but　the　rest？　They　parasite　all　of　us。　Not　one　of　us's　safe！
　Yes。　That　bastard　Stone！　He　made　a　killing　out　of　me；　turned　her　into　a　goddamn　fiend；　put　her　and　the　kids　against　me　forever　and　nearly　broke　me　and　the　business。　I　hope　the　bastard　rots　for　all　eternity！
　With　an　effort　Bartlett　took　his　mind　off　that　gaping　sore　and　looked　at　the　rain　and　remembered　that　it　was　only　money　and　that　he　was　free；　free　and　that　made　him　feel　marvelous。
　Jesus！　I'm　free　and　there's　Casey　and　Orlanda。
　Orlanda。
　Jesus；　he　thought；　the　ache　still　in　his　loins；　I　was　really　going　back　there。　So　was　Orlanda。　Goddamn；　it's　bad　enough　with　Casey　but　now　I've　two　of　them。
　He　had　not　been　with　a　girl　for　a　couple　of　months。　The　last　time　was　in　London；　a　casual　meeting　and　casual　dinner　then　into　bed。　She　was　staying　at　the　same　hotel；　divorced　and　no　trouble。　What　was　it　Orlanda　said？　A　friendly　tumble　and　a　shy　good…bye？　Yes。　That's　it。　But　that　one　wasn't　shy。
　He　stood　in　line　happily；　feeling　greatly　alive　and　watching　the　torrents；　the　smell　of　the　rain　on　the　earth　grand；　the　road　messed　with　stones　and　mud；　the　flood　swirling　over　a　long　wide　crack　in　the　tarmac　to　dance　into　the　air　like　rapids　of　a　stream。
　The　rain's　going　to　bring　lots　of　trouble；　he　thought。　And　Orlanda's　lots　of　trouble；　old　buddy。　Sure。　Even　so；　there　must　be　a　way　to　bed　her。　What　is　it　about　her　that　blows　your　mind？　Part's　her　face；　part's　her　figure；　part's　the　look　in　her　eye；　part's　。。。　Jesus；　face　it；　she's　all　woman　and　all　trouble。　Better　forget　Orlanda。　Be　wise；　be　wise；　old　buddy。　As　Casey　said；　that　broad's　dynamite！
　
　43
　
　10：50　A。M。：
　It　had　been　raining　now　for　almost　twelve　hours　and　the　surface　of　the　Colony　was　soaked　though　the　empty　reservoirs　were　barely　touched。　The　parched　earth　weled　the　wet。　Most　of　the　rain　ran　off　the　baked　surface　to　flood　the　lower　levels；　turning　dirt　roads　into　morasses；　and　building　sites　into　lakes。　Some　of　the　water　went　deep。　In　the　resettlement　areas　that　dotted　the　mountainsides　the　downpour　was　a　disaster。
　Shantytowns　of　rickety　hovels　built　of　any　scraps；　cardboard；　planks；　corrugated　iron；　fencing；　canvas；　sidings；　three…ply　walls　and　roofs　for　the　well…to…do；　all　leaning　against　one　another；　attached　to　one　another；　on　top　of　one　another；　layer　on　layer；　up　and　down　the　mountains　…　all　with　dirt　floors　and　dark　alleys　that　were　now　awash　and　mucked　and　puddled　and　potholed　and　dangerous。　Rain　pouring　through　roofs　soaking　bedding；　clothes　and　the　other　remnants　of　a　lifetime；　people　packed　on　people　surrounded　by　people　who　stoically　shrugged　and　waited　for　the　rain　to　stop。　Tin　alleys　wandered　higgledy…piggledy　with　no　plan　except　to　squeeze　another　space　for　another　family　of　refugees　and　illegal　aliens　but　not　really　aliens　for　this　was　China　and；　once　past　the　border；　any　Chinese　became　legal　settlers　to　stay　as　long　as　they　wanted　by　ancient　Hong　Kong　Government　approval。
　The　strength　of　the　Colony　had　always　been　its　cheap；　abundant　and　strife…free　labor　force。　The　Colony　provided　a　permanent　sanctuary　and　asked　only　peaceful　labor　in　return　at　whatever　the　going　rate　of　the　day　was。　Hong　Kong　never　sought　immigrants　but　the　people　of　China　always　came。　They　came　by　day　and　by　night；　by　ship；　by　foot；　by　stretcher。　They　came　across　the　border　whenever　famine　or　a　convulsion　racked　China；　families　of　men；　women　and　children　came　to　stay；　to　be　absorbed；　in　time　to　go　back　home　because　China　was　always　home；　even　after　ten　generations。
　But　refugees　were　not　always　weled。　Last　year　the　Colony　was　almost　swamped　by　a　human　flood。　For　some　still　unknown　reason　and　without　warning；　the　PRC　border　guards　relaxed　the　tight　control　of　their　side　and　within　a　week　thousands　were　pouring　across　daily。　Mostly　they　came　by　night；　over　and　through　the　token；　single　six…strand　fence　that　separated　the　New　Territories　from　the　Kwantung；　the　neighboring　province。　The　police　were　powerless　to　stem　the　tide。　The　army　had　to　be　called　out。　In　one　night　in　May　almost　six　thousand　of　the　illegal　horde　were　arrested；　fed　and　the　next　day　sent　back　over　the　border　…　but　more　thousands　had　escaped　the　border　net　to　bee　legal。　The　catastrophe　went　on　night　after　night；　day　after　day。　Tens　of　thousands　of　newers。　Soon　mobs　of　angry　sympathetic　Chinese　were　at　the　border　trying　to　disrupt　the　deportations。　The　deportations　were　necessary　because　the　Colony　was　being　buried　in　illegals　and　it　was　impossible　to　feed；　house　and　absorb　such　a　sudden；　vast　increase　in　new　population。　Already　there　were　the　four…plus　million　to　worry　abo