ericlustbader.the ninja-第18章

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　Vincent　laughed。　'Yeah。　Until　I　got　hold　of　him。　He's　got　a　new　woman；　too。〃
　'Good；'　Terry　said。　'About　time。。　The　ties　are　still　very　strong；　huh？'
　'Yeah。'　Vincent　knew　only　too　well　what　Terry　meant。　'He　sends　his　love　to　you　and　Ei。　He'll　be　in　soon；　I'm　sure；　and　he'll　stop　by。'
　'Good　enough。　Hey；　my　new　client　will　no　doubt　bite　Ei's　head　off　if　I　don't　run。　See　you　at　seven。　'Bye。'
　He　hung　up　and　went　across　the　room　and　around　the　corner　to　meet　Mr　Wonderful。
　As　Terry　came　up；　Eileen　Okura　felt　some　of　her　apprehension　dissipate。　She　had　been　startled　by　two　separate　elements。　First；　she　had　not　heard　the　man's　approach。　Second；　his　countenance　was　unusual。　He　stood　now　precisely　as　she　had　first　seen　him；　duffel　bag　on　his　back；　sunglasses　swinging　from　the　thumb　and　forefinger　of　his　right　hand。　The　skin　of　his　face　and　his　hands　was　far　too　white　for　an　Oriental's。　But；　she　saw；　as　she　glanced　at　his　throat　where　his　shirt　was　open；　this　snowy　colour　predominated　only　in　those　areas；　for　his　chest　was　a　darker；　more　natural　hue。　It　was　as　if　he　had　been　in　some　kind　of　hideous　accident。　An　explosion；　perhaps；　affecting　the　exposed　areas　of　his　flesh。　Yet；　for　all　that；　it　was　his　eyes　which　held　her。　They　looked　utterly　dead；　black　stones　dropped　into　a　stagnant　pool　of　water；　they　could　not　conceivably　retain　any　form　of　emotion。　And　it　was　these　same　eyes　which　regarded　her　now　as　if　she　were　some　specimen；　stripped　and　laid　out　on　a　sterile　surface；　ready　for　dissection。　Eileen　felt　a　brief　chill　wash　over　her。
　'Watashi　ni　nanika　goyo　desu　ka；'　Terry　said　to　the　man。　How　may　I　help　you？
　'Anata　ga　kono　dojo　no　master　desu　ka？'　Are　you　the　master　of　this　dojo？
　Terry　seemed　to　ignore　the　abrupt　and　therefore　extremely　impolite　mode　of　the　other's　speech；　said；　'So　dsu！　Yes。
　'Koko　de　renshu　sasete　itadakitai　no　desu　ga。'　I　wish　to　practise。
　'I　see。　Which　disciplines　are　you　interested　in？'
　'Aikido；　karate；　kenjutsu。'
　'For　aikido　and　karate　I　can　surely　acmodate　you。　But　as　for　kenjutsu；　I　am　afraid　that　it　is　quite　impossible。　My　instructor　is　away　on　vacation。'
　'What　about　yourself？'
　'Me？　I　have　given　up　teaching　kenjutsu。'
　'I　require　no　instruction。　Practise　with　me　for　an　hour。'
　'I…'
　'It　is　better　than　filling　out　forms。'
　'That　it　is。　My　name　is　Terry　Tanaka。　And　yours？'
　'Hideoshi。'
　A　name　from　out　of　the　past。　Terry　nodded。　'All　right。　Miss　Okura　will　give　you　the　necessary　forms。　The　charge　is　forty　dollars　an　hour。'
　The　other　nodded　curtly。　Terry　half　expected　him　to　produce　a　plastic　wallet　filled　with　travellers'　cheques　but　instead　the　man　peeled　off　one　hundred　and　twenty　dollars　in　twenties　from　a　roll　he　kept　in　his　front　right…hand　trouser　pocket。
　'Sign　there；'　Terry　said；　pointing。　He　nodded　towards　a　small　doorway　at　the　far　end　of　the　room。　'You　can　change　in　there。　Do　you　have　your　own　robe？'
　'Yes。'
　'All　right。　Fine。　The　dojo　proper　is　one　flight　up。　Which　discipline　do　you　prefer　to　begin　widi？'
　'Surprise　me；'　Hideoshi　said；　walking　away。　He　disappeared　through　the　doorway　into　the　darkness　of　the　locker…room　beyond。
　Terry　turned　his　head　away；　saw　Eileen　staring　at　the　empty　doorway　across　the　room。　There　were　no　shadows。　The　light　filtering　in　through　the　half…drawn　blinds　which　covered　the　high　narrow　windows；　was　diffuse　enough　to　put　a　patina　on　her　glowing　skin。　She　looked　slim　and　tiny；　he　thought。　A　pale　ballerina　about　to　perform　her　half　of　a　difficult　pas　de　deux。
　'Who　is　he？'　Her　voice　seemed　like　a　whisper　in　the　high…ceilinged　room。　Above　their　　　　　heads　came　the　thump　of　the　floorboards。
　Terry　shrugged。　He　was　a　big　man；　perhaps　six　feet；　with　wide　shoulders　and　narrow　waist　and　hips。　His　face　was　flat；　the　eyes　black　above　very　high　cheekbones。　He　told　Eileen　what　had　transpired。
　'You're　not　going　to　do　it；　Terry？'
　He　shrugged。　'Why　not？　It's　only　an　hour's　practise。〃　But　he　knew　what　she　meant　and　his　heart　was　not　nearly　so　light　as　his　words　sounded。　He　was；　along　with　Nicholas；　one　of　the　greatest　kenjutsu　masters　now　living　outside　Japan。　At　thirty…eight；　Terry　had　already　spent　three…quarters　of　his　life　studying　kenjutsu；　the　ancient　Japanese　art　of　swordsmanship。　His　reason　for　abruptly　abandoning　it　within　the　past　year　might　not　be　altogether　easy　for　a　Westerner　to　understand。
　In　the　first　place；　no　martial　art　depended　solely　on　physical　discipline。　In　fact；　a　great　percentage　was　mental。　Long　ago；　he　had　read　Miyamoto　Musashi's　Go　Rin　No　Sho。　It　was　perhaps　the　greatest　…　treatise　on　strategy　in　all　the　world。　Though　written　in　just　a　few　short　weeks　before　the　great　warrior's　death；　its　knowledge　was　timeless；　Terry　thought。　Today；　he　was　well　aware；　many　prominent　Japanese　businessmen　mapped　out　their　　　　　major　corporate　advertising　and　sales　campaigns　with　Miyamoto's　principles　in　mind。
　Just　about　a　year　ago；　he　had　picked　up　the　Go　Rin　No　Sho　once　again。　But；　in　reading　it；　he　had　now　found　what　he　believed　to　be　quite　different　and　darker　meanings　hidden　within　the　logic　and　vaults　of　imagination。　To　devote　oneself　so　religiously　to　the　domination　of　others　was　not；　he　felt；　what　life　was　all　about。　He　had　been　disturbed　by　dreams；　then；　black　portents　without　form　or　face；　all　the　more　real　and　frightening　for　that。　He　had　felt　pelled　to　rid　himself　of　the　volume；　throwing　it　out　in　the　middle　of　the　night；　not　even　waiting　until　morning。
　In　daylight；　the　feeling　had　remained。　He　felt　as　if　he　had　taken　a　wrong　turning　in　the　dead　of　night　and；　without　warning；　had　found　himself　on　the　lip　of　a　great　abyss。　There　had　been　a　temptation　to　look　over　the　edge　but　with　it　had　e　the　knowledge　that　if　he　did　he　would　surely　lose　his　balance　and　tumble　forwards　into　the　darkness。　Thus　Terry　had　stepped　back　and；　turning　away；　had　put　his　katana　away　forever。
　And　then　today；　this　strange　man　who　called　himself　Hideoshi　appears。　Terry　shivered　inwardly；　too　much　in　control　to　let　Eileen　see　his　true　emotions。　Besides；　he　did　not　want　to　alarm　her。
　It　was　surely　some　kind　of　omen；　for　he　had　no　doubt　that　the　man　knew　well　the　teachings　of　Miyamoto。　But　even　beyond　this；　there　was　no　doubt　in　his　mind　that　Hideoshi　was　a　haragei　adept。　The　concept；　stemming　from　two　words；　hara；　meaning　centralization　and　integration；　and　ki；　meaning　an　extended　form　of　energy；　was　more　than　intuition　or　a　sixth　sense　but；　as　Terry's　sensei　had　said；　'a　true　way　of　perceiving　reality'。　It　was　akin　to　having　eyes　in　the　back　of　your　head；　amplifiers　in　your　ears。　Yet　haragei　could　work　both　ways：　being　an　ultra…sensitive　receiver　also　made　one　an　excellent　transmitter　if　one　came　within　a　certain　distance　of　another　haragei　adept。　Terry　had　picked　this　up　instantly。
　'Just　another　Japanese　off　the　plane　from　Haneda；'　he　said　nonchalantly　to　Eileen。　He　would　not；　under　any　circumstances；　have　told　her　what　he　really　knew　about　the　man。
　'Well；　there's　something　odd　about　him。'　She　was　still　staring　at　the　black　doorway；　which　seemed　to　gape　at　her　like　the　mouth　of　a　grinning　skull。　'Those　eyes　…'　she　shuddered。　'So　impersonal；　like　…　like　cameras。'　She　took　a　step　towards　Terry。　'What's　he　doing　in　there　so　long；　do　you　think？'
　'Meditating；　no　doubt；'　Terry　said。　He　picked　up　the　phone；　stabbed　the　inter　button。　He　spoke　softly　and　briefly　to　someone　on　the　third　floor；　informing　him　of　the　new　client。　He　cradled　the　receiver。　'He'll　be　another　twenty　minutes　at　least；'　he　said　to　her。　He　stared　at　her　long　black　gleaming　hair。　Brushed　back　and　unbound；　it　rushed　like　a　night…dark　stream　over　her　shoulders；　down　her　back　in　a　thick　cascade；　ending　at　the　tops　of　her　buttocks。　She　started　and　he　said；　'What　is　it？'
　Her　head　turned。　'Nothing。　I　just　felt　you　staring　at　me。'
　He　smiled。　'But　I　do　that　all　the　time。'
　'At　night；　yes。'　Her　eyes　stayed　serious；　her　pouty　lips　firm　and　straight。　'Don't　do　it　here；　Terry。　Please。　You　know　how　I　feel　about　that。　We　work　together　and　we　…'　Her　eyes　met　his　and　for　just　an　instant　he　felt　his　heart　lurch　within　him。　Was　that　fear　he　had　glimpsed　there　lurking　like　a　prowler　in　the　night？
　He　reached　out　a　hand；　pulled　her　gently　towards　him。　This　time　she　did　not　resist　and；　as　if　seeking　warmth；　she　allowed　herself　to　be　cradled；　her　arms　tight　around　him。　She　felt　safer　here；　with　him　so　close。
　'Are　you　okay；　Ei？'
　She　nodded　wordlessly　against　his　muscles　but　felt　the　tears　welling　up　like　deep　pools　witfiin　her　eyes。　Her　throat　constricted　and　she　could　not　think　why。　'I　want　to　e　over　tonight；'
　she　heard　herself　say　and　she　immediately　felt　better。
　'How　about　every　night？'　Terry　said。
　It　was　not　the　first　time　he　had　said　this；　though　it　had　been　in　different　ways　before。　Eileen's　response　had　always　been　the　same；　yet　now　she　knew　the　source　of　the　churning　inside　her；　knew　that　when　he　asked　her　again　this　evening；　as　he　surely　would；　her　answer　would　be　yes。　'Tonight；'　she　said　softly。　'Ask　me　tonight。〃　She　dabbed　at　her　eyes。　'When　should　I　e　over？'
　'I'm　having　dinner　with　Vincent。　Why　don't　you　join　us？'
　She　smiled　thinly。　'Uh…uh。　There's　too　much　you　guys　talk　about　that　I　have　no　interest　in。'
　'We'll　cut　that　all　out　tonight。　Promise。〃
　She　laughed　then。　'No；　no。　I　don't　begrudge　you　that。　Bushido　is　important　to　you。〃
　'It's　part　of　our　heritage。　We　wouldn't　be　Japanese　without　it。　I'm　not　yet　mat　assimilated　into　Western　culture　…　I'll　never　be　…　that　I　can　forget　the　history　of　my　people　…'　He　paused；　seeing　her　shudder；　her　eyes　flutter　closed。
　'My　people；'　her　words　a　ghostly　echo。　'Bushido。　I　shall　die　for　my　Emperor　and　my　beloved　homeland。'　Tears　welled　from　beneath　her　lowered　lids；　turning　to　minute　rainbows。　Behind　them　were　galaxies　of　pain。　'We　survived　the　great　firestorm　in　March'　…　her　whispered　words　like　the　shouted　cries　of　the　dying　…　'when　the　American　armada　dropped　almost　three…quarters　of　a　million　bombs　filled　with　napalm；　when　two　hundred　thousand　Japanese　civilians　were　roasted　or　boiled　alive；　when　half　of　Tokyo　was　cindered；　when；　the　following　morning；　as　you　walked　down　the　street；　the　wild　wind　took　the　charcoaled　corpses　and　blew　them　away　like　dust。〃
　'Ei；　don't　…'
　'We　moved　out；　then；　away　from　the　war；　to　Hiroshima　in　the　south　but；　quite　soon；　my　parents；　terrified　by　all　the　rumours；　packed　me　off　to　my　grandparents　who　lived　in　the　mountains。'　She　looked　at　his　face　without　really　seeing　it。　'There　was　never　enough　food　and　slowly　we　began　to　the　of　starvation。　Oh；　it　was　nothing　very　spectacular；　merely　a　kind　of　all…pervading　lassitude。　I　would　sit　in　the　sun　for　hours　unable　to　think　of　anything。　It　took　me　hours　to　b　my　hair　because　my　arms　would　hurt；　keeping　them　lifted　like　that。　That　was　for　me。　But　for　my　mother　and　my　father　there　was　Hiroshima　and　the　light　that　fell　from　the　sky。'　Her　eyes　focused　and　she　looked　at　him　steadily。　'What　is　there　for　me　but　shame　and　hurt？　What　we　did　and　what；　in　turn；　was　done　to　us。　My　poor　country。'
　'That's　all　forgotten　now；'　he　said。
　'No；　it's　not。　And　you；　of　all　people；　should　understand　that。　It's　you　and　Vincent　and　Nick　who　talk　constantly　of　the　spirit　of　our　country。　How　can　you　celebrate　the　one　without　fee