nonsense. I never said that. I merely said it avoided the real issue.’
‘Which is?’ Li Shai Tung asked, reaching for his glass.
‘Why men are never satisfied.’
The T’ang considered a moment, then laughed softly. ‘That has always been so. How can I change what men are?’
‘You could make it better for them. They feel boxed in. Not just physically, but mentally, too. They’ve no dreams. Not one of them feels real any more.’
There was a moment’s silence, then Hal Shepherd spoke again. ‘You know this, Ben? You’ve talked to people?’
Ben stared at his father momentarily, then turned his attention back to the T’ang. ‘You can’t miss it. It’s there in all their eyes. There’s an emptiness there. An unfilled, unfulfilled space deep inside them. I don’t have to talk to them to see that. I have only to watch the media. It’s like they’re all dead but they can’t see it. They’re looking for some purpose for it all and they can’t find it.’
Li Shai Tung stared back at the boy for a moment, then looked down, chilled by what Ben had said. Was it so? Was it really so? He looked about the room, conscious suddenly of the lowness of the ceiling, of the dark oak beams that divided up the whitewashed walls, the fresh-cut roses in a silver bowl on the table in the corner. He could feel the old wood beneath his fingers, smell the strong pine scent of the fire. All this was real. And he, he too was real, surely? But sometimes, just sometimes…
And you think we could give them a purpose?’
‘No. But you might give them the space to find one for themselves.’
Ah. Space. Well, Ben, there are more than thirty-nine billion people in Chung Kuo. What practical measures could we possibly take to give space to so many?’
‘You mistake me, Li Shai Tung. You take my image too literally.’ He put a finger to his brow. ‘I meant space up here. That’s where they’re trapped. The City’s only the outward, concrete form of it. But the blueprint – the paradigm – is inside their heads. That’s where you’ve got to give them room. And you can only do that by giving them a sense of direction.’
‘Change. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’
‘No. You need change nothing.’
‘Then I don’t understand you, Ben. Have you some magic trick in mind?’
‘Not at all. I mean only that if the problem is in their heads then the solution can be found in the same place. They want outwardness. They want space, excitement, novelty. Well, why not give it to them? But not out there, in the real world. Give it to them up here, in their heads.’
‘But don’t they get that? Doesn’t the media give them that now?’
‘No. I’m talking of something entirely different. Something that will make the walls dissolve. That will make it real to them.’ Again he tapped his brow. ‘Up here, where it counts.’
The T’ang was about to answer him when there was a knock on the door.
‘Come in!’ said Shepherd, half turning in his seat.
It was the T’ang’s steward. He bowed low to Shepherd and his son, then turned, his head still lowered, to his master. ‘Forgive me, Chieh Hsia, but you asked me to remind you of your audience with Minister Chao.’ Then, with a bow, the steward backed away, closing the door behind him.
Li Shai Tung looked back at Shepherd. ‘I’m sorry, Hal, but I must leave soon.’
‘Of course…’ Shepherd began, but his son interrupted him.
‘One last thing, Li Shai Tung.’
The T’ang turned, patient, smiling. ‘What is it, Ben?’
‘I saw something. This afternoon, in the town.’
‘You saw something?’
‘An execution. And a suicide. Two of the elite guards.’
‘Gods!’ The T’ang sat forward. ‘You saw that?’
‘We were upstairs in one of the shops.’
Shepherd broke in. ‘ We . You mean Meg was with you?’
Ben nodded, then told what he had seen. At the end Li Shai Tung, his face stricken, turned to Shepherd. ‘Forgive me, Hal. This is all my
‘Which is?’ Li Shai Tung asked, reaching for his glass.
‘Why men are never satisfied.’
The T’ang considered a moment, then laughed softly. ‘That has always been so. How can I change what men are?’
‘You could make it better for them. They feel boxed in. Not just physically, but mentally, too. They’ve no dreams. Not one of them feels real any more.’
There was a moment’s silence, then Hal Shepherd spoke again. ‘You know this, Ben? You’ve talked to people?’
Ben stared at his father momentarily, then turned his attention back to the T’ang. ‘You can’t miss it. It’s there in all their eyes. There’s an emptiness there. An unfilled, unfulfilled space deep inside them. I don’t have to talk to them to see that. I have only to watch the media. It’s like they’re all dead but they can’t see it. They’re looking for some purpose for it all and they can’t find it.’
Li Shai Tung stared back at the boy for a moment, then looked down, chilled by what Ben had said. Was it so? Was it really so? He looked about the room, conscious suddenly of the lowness of the ceiling, of the dark oak beams that divided up the whitewashed walls, the fresh-cut roses in a silver bowl on the table in the corner. He could feel the old wood beneath his fingers, smell the strong pine scent of the fire. All this was real. And he, he too was real, surely? But sometimes, just sometimes…
And you think we could give them a purpose?’
‘No. But you might give them the space to find one for themselves.’
Ah. Space. Well, Ben, there are more than thirty-nine billion people in Chung Kuo. What practical measures could we possibly take to give space to so many?’
‘You mistake me, Li Shai Tung. You take my image too literally.’ He put a finger to his brow. ‘I meant space up here. That’s where they’re trapped. The City’s only the outward, concrete form of it. But the blueprint – the paradigm – is inside their heads. That’s where you’ve got to give them room. And you can only do that by giving them a sense of direction.’
‘Change. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’
‘No. You need change nothing.’
‘Then I don’t understand you, Ben. Have you some magic trick in mind?’
‘Not at all. I mean only that if the problem is in their heads then the solution can be found in the same place. They want outwardness. They want space, excitement, novelty. Well, why not give it to them? But not out there, in the real world. Give it to them up here, in their heads.’
‘But don’t they get that? Doesn’t the media give them that now?’
‘No. I’m talking of something entirely different. Something that will make the walls dissolve. That will make it real to them.’ Again he tapped his brow. ‘Up here, where it counts.’
The T’ang was about to answer him when there was a knock on the door.
‘Come in!’ said Shepherd, half turning in his seat.
It was the T’ang’s steward. He bowed low to Shepherd and his son, then turned, his head still lowered, to his master. ‘Forgive me, Chieh Hsia, but you asked me to remind you of your audience with Minister Chao.’ Then, with a bow, the steward backed away, closing the door behind him.
Li Shai Tung looked back at Shepherd. ‘I’m sorry, Hal, but I must leave soon.’
‘Of course…’ Shepherd began, but his son interrupted him.
‘One last thing, Li Shai Tung.’
The T’ang turned, patient, smiling. ‘What is it, Ben?’
‘I saw something. This afternoon, in the town.’
‘You saw something?’
‘An execution. And a suicide. Two of the elite guards.’
‘Gods!’ The T’ang sat forward. ‘You saw that?’
‘We were upstairs in one of the shops.’
Shepherd broke in. ‘ We . You mean Meg was with you?’
Ben nodded, then told what he had seen. At the end Li Shai Tung, his face stricken, turned to Shepherd. ‘Forgive me, Hal. This is all my
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