ericlustbader.the ninja-第102部分

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hts　gently　rocking　him　as　they　blended　together；　lulling　him　to　sleep　on　the　tide　of　their　passage。
　What　had　he　really　acplished　in　America？　What　could　he　have　done　with　that　time　had　he　stayed　in　Japan？　So　much　time。　And　if　he　had　never　begun　his　studies　in　bujutsu？　What　then？　What　would　he　be　now？　Some　high　government　functionary；　no　doubt；　with　a　high　salary　and　a　perfect　garden。　Two　weeks　each　year　in　Kyoto　or　somewhere　on　the　seashore；　even　Hong　Kong；　perhaps；　in　a　season　when　it　was　not　overrun　by　Western　tourists。　A　loyal　wife　and　a　family。　Children　to　drool　on　him　and　laugh　with。
　The　void；　he　realized；　is　only　noticeable　when　it　is　no　longer　there。　Justine。　Justine。　Justine。　His　reward　for　at　last　swatting　down　the　past。　He　very　much　wished　to　see　again　the　graves　of　his　parents；　to　kneel　before　their　sokoba；　to　light　the　incense　sticks；　to　say　the　litany　of　prayer　over　them。
　'You　have　brought　it？'　Fukashigi　said。
　'Yes；　I　knew　I　must　one　day；　though　I　don't　know　why。'
　'e。'
　Fukashigi　led　him　through　the　abandoned　dojo；　striped　with　shadow　and　pale　sunlight　bleeding　through　the　ragged　rents　in　the　flying　lengths　of　oblique　cloud　that　marbled　the　summer　sky。
　At　the　threshold　to　the　back　rooms；　Nicholas　shed　his　shoes；　Fukashigi　his　geta；　and　the　old　man　took　him　to　the　very　rear　of　the　building；　to　a　room　with　a　raised　floor　of　tatamis。　He　pushed　aside　the　shoji　and　they　entered。
　Sitting　cross…legged；　Fukashigi　waved　his　hand　gracefully。　'Please　place　it　between　us。'
　Nicholas　put　the　parcel　he　had　been　carrying　down　onto　the　tatami　and　unwrapped　it。　There　was　the　dragon　and　tiger　box　that　So…Peng　had　given　to　his　parents。
　'Open　it。'　Fukashigi's　voice　held　a　certain　reverence。
　Nicholas　obeyed；　lifting　the　heavy　lid　to　display　the　nine　cut　emeralds。
　All　of　Fukashigi's　breath　seemed　to　go　out　of　him　as　he　gazed　at　those　nine　bits　of　mineral　which　seemed　to　glow　and　spark　in　the　low　light。
　'I　never　thought；'　the　old　man　said　softly；　'that　I　would　see　such　a　sight。'　He　sighed。　'And　they　are　all　here。　All　nine　of　them。'
　He　looked　up。　The　square　room　was　immaculate；　spacious；　harmonious；　calming。
　'Time　changes　many　things。　When　you　came　to　me　so　many　years　ago　in　Kyoto　it　was；　I　think；　only　the　letter　from　my　friend　Kansatsu　that　stopped　me　from　dismissing　you　out　of　hand。　Oh；　so　you　did　not　know　that。　Well；　it　is　true。　And；　to　be　pletely　truthful；　even　after　I　had　read　the　letter；　I　thought　that　I　might　be　making　a　grievous　mistake。　After　all；　Aka　i　ninjutsu；　history　informs　us；　is　no　acquired　trait　but　a　serious　calling　…quite　as　serious；　quite　as　mysterious　as　the　calling　to　serve　Amida　Buddha　…　to　which　one　is　born　and　bred。
　'I　can　tell　you　that　I　had　grave　doubts　concerning　your　entrance　into　Aka　i　ninjutsu；　despite　what　Kansatsu　wrote。　He　is　no　ninja；　I　thought；　therefore　　　he　cannot　know。　But　a　breach　of　our　security　had　already　been　created　and；　of　course；　you　came　to　me　appearing　a　Westerner。　I　knew　only　that　Kansatsu　had　not　lost　his　mind。
　'Of　course；　to　have　sent　you　away　would　have　been；　I　know　now；　a　mistake。'　His　fingertips　caressed　the　box　before　him。　He　smiled。　'You　see；　I　am　not；　as　I　understand　was　so　often　said　of　me　in　those　days；　omniscient。'
　'It　is　still　said。'
　The　old　man　inclined　his　head　slightly。　'So？　It　is；　as　you　can　see；　an　untruth。　It　was　through　Kansatsu's　intuitiveness　that　you　became　the　first　student　of　mixed　blood　at　the　Tenshin　Shoden　Katori　ryu。　The　only　one　such。　A　signal　honour；　an　unorthodox　decision　on　my　part。　Still；　I　do　not　regret　it。　The　ryu　has　had　no　finer　student　in　all　the　years　that　it　was　mine。'
　Now　it　was　Nicholas's　turn　to　incline　his　head。
　'But　you　came　to　us　for　a　reason；…did　you　not？　And　now　the　time　has　e。　It　has　begun。'
　'I　regret　to　say；　sensei；　that　it　began　some　time　ago。'　And　he　told　the　old　man　about　the　murders。
　Fukashigi　sat　quite　still　and　there　was　silence　for　a　time　after　Nicholas　had　finished。　His　head　swivelled　and　his　cool　gaze　swept　over　Nicholas's　face。　'When　you　joined　us　you　took　certain　vows；　just　as　you　did　at　every　step　of　your　training。　You　must　have　known　what　was　mencing　the　moment　you　discovered　the　shaken　fragment。　Yet　you　took　no　action。　Now；　perhaps　because　of　that；　many　people　…　three　of　them　your　friends　…　are　dead。'　His　cold　eyes　seemed　as　luminous　as　beacons　on　a　foggy　day。　'Are　you　dead；　too；　Nicholas？〃
　Nicholas　watched　the　backs　of　his　hands；　stung　by　the　old　man's　words。　'Perhaps　I　never　should　have　e　to　the　West。　I　think　I　was　merely　trying　to　outrun　my　karma。'
　'You　know　better　than　that。　Wherever　you　go；　it　will　be　the　same　for　you。'
　'It　sounds　like　a　curse。'
　'If　one　chooses　to　see　one's　life　in　those　terms；　men　it　is。　But　I　am　surprised　that　you　should　think　in　such　a　curiously　Western　mode。'
　'Perhaps　America　has　changed　me　as　it　did　Vincent。'
　'Of　course　only　you　can　know　the　truth　of　that　…'
　'I　don't　know　any　more。'
　'I　suspect　that　is　only　because　you　do　not　fully　prehend　it　yet。'
　'I　am　bound　up　inexplicably　with　Saigo　…　and　with　Yukio　…yet…'
　'Acceptance　of　karma　should　not　be　confused　with　fatalism　We　are　all；　to　a　great　extent；　masters　of　our　own　fate。　But　also　we　must　learn　to　bow　before　the　inevitable：　this　is　the　true　meaning　of　acceptance　and　it　is　only　this　which　brings　the　harmony　without　which　life　is　not　really　worth　living。'
　'I　understand　all　that；'　Nicholas　said。　'It　is　the　specifics　that　still　elude　me。'
　Fukashigi　nodded　his　head　and；　reaching　inside　his　robe；　he　withdrew　a　series　of　rice　paper　sheets　which　had　been　folded　very　carefully。　They　had　about　them　the　look　of　age。　Fukashigi　handed　them　across　to　Nicholas。
　'This　letter　is　from　Kansatsu。　I　am　following　his　express　instructions　in　giving　this　to　you　now。'
　It　was　a　plain　black　Ford　sedan。
　Doc　Deerforth　tried　to　make　out　who　was　in　it　but　the　late　morning　sunlight　spun　like　a　nova　across　the　windshield；　pletely　obscuring　it。
　He　watched　the　sedan　long　enough　to　make　certain　that　it　was　following　Justine's　brick…red　roadster　and；　still　mindful　of　and　not　a　little　curious　about　Nicholas's　warning；　he　spun　the　wheel　of　his　car　and　set　off　after　them　both。
　He　had　had　a　call　out　along　the　west　end　of　Dune　Road　earlier　that　morning　and　had　e　east　to　look　in　on　Justine。　He　had　still　been　some　distance　away　when　he　had　seen　her　take　the　roadster　east。　That　was　when　he　had　picked　up　the　black　Ford。
　He　stayed　well　back　and　turned　in　after　seeing　the　brick…red　roadster　stop　at　Flying　Point。　But；　curiously；　no　one　emerged　from　the　black　Ford。　He　waited　impatiently　for　what　seemed　a　long　time。　He　got　out　of　his　car；　on　the　point　of　following　her　down　the　beach；　when　the　black　Ford　started　up。　Slowly　it　began　to　pace　her　along　the　beach　road。
　Doc　Deerforth　went　hurriedly　back　to　his　car　and　got　in。
　He　was　sweating　profusely　by　the　time　he　came　round　the　last　turn　and　saw　the　sedan　parked　some　way　from　the　beginning　of　Gin　Lane。
　He　was　grateful　he　had　not　lost　it。　The　traffic　was　light　and　he　had　had　to　hang　back　farther　than　he　would　have　wanted。
　More　than　once　the　Ford　had　disappeared　for　long　moments　around　a　serpentine　turning。
　Now　he　knew　where　they　were　both　headed。　He　recognized　Raphael　Tomkin's　house　immediately。
　The　soles　of　his　shoes　crunched　on　gravel　as　he　got　out　of　the　car。　He　snapped　down　the　sunglass　attachment　to　his　glasses　against　the　fierce　glare。
　Now　he　could　see　into　the　black　Ford。　It　was　empty。
　It　was　quite　still　here。　There　was　a　lone　cardinal　in　a　tall　pine　but　it　would　not　sing。　He　could　no　longer　hear　the　boom　and　hiss　of　the　surf；　and　the　lack　of　that　sound　was　like　white　noise　clattering　like　thrown　stones　through　his　brain。
　He　began　to　walk　towards　the　Ford。　All　sound　seemed　heightened　in　the　hush。　Not　even　a　breeze　stirred　the　high　treetops。　It　was　very　hot。
　The　black　Ford　was　nearer　now；　hulking　like　some　sinister　castle　in　the　desert。　Who　would　follow　Justine？　And　why？　Look　after　her；　Nicholas　had　said。　Startled；　Doc　Deerforth　realized　he　thought　of　the　two　of　them　as　if　they　were　his　own　kids。　Just　an　old　man's　foolishness；　he　admonished　himself。　I　miss　my　two　girls；　is　all。
　His　shirt　was　soaked；　sticking　to　his　skin　like　loose　folds　of　ancient　flesh。　Just　as　it　did；　he　reflected；　in　the　jungle　so　long　ago。　And　abruptly；　he　staggered；　experiencing　a　fierce　stab　of　vertigo。　It's　the　malaria；　he　thought；　steadying　himself　against　a　resinous　tree　trunk。　My　own　form　of　malaria。　Because　it's　the　summer。　In　the　fall；　it　will　pass。
　He　ran　one　hand　along　the　burning　flank　of　the　Ford；　and；　bending　a　bit；　peering　into　the　interior。　There　was　nothing　to　see。
　He　was　still　stooped　over　like　dial；　an　old；　balding　man；　sweating　in　the　heat　of　the　afternoon；　when　the　shadow　stretched　itself　across　the　side　of　the　black　sedan。
　For　a　long　moment；　Doc　Deerforth　stared　at　it。　It　recalled　to　him　a　moment　in　a　ballet　he　had　seen　a　long　time　ago　in　the　city：　the　entrance　of　the　Dark　Angel。　On　either　side　of　him；　his　daughters　…　they　were　still　young　then　　　　…　had　cried　at　the　vision。　Black　wings　clouded　the　sun　and　he　was　abruptly　cold。
　He　began　to　turn；　heard　the　weird　whirring　sound　at　that　same　instant。　A　blur　on