ericlustbader.the ninja-第104部分

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be　to　admit　defeat。
　'How　long　will　you　stay？'　That　was　not　what　Justine　had　meant　to　say。　She　had　wanted　to　say；　'I'm　glad'　because　she　found　that　she　was。　No　one　wanted　a　lush　for　a　sister。　It　was　as　if　her　tongue　cleaved　to　the　roof　of　her　mouth　when　she　wanted　to　say　something　nice　to　Gelda。　I　really　can't　give　her　anything　at　all；　she　thought　in　wonder。　Not　even　the　tiniest　thing。　She　felt　a　wave　of　shame　wash　over　her　like　her　mother's　long　hands；　slippery　with　soap；　bathing　her。
　When　she　was　older；　she　would　wait　until　everyone　had　left　the　house。　She　would　take　a　bath　and　emerge；　moist　and　warm；　one　great　snowy　towel　around　her　thin　body　and　another　smaller　one　wound　about　her　long　hair　like　a　turban。　And；　as　if　she　were　in　some　far…off　Byzantine　city　…　that　must　have　been　from　her　constant　reading　…　she　would　flop　down　on　this　very　couch；　her　back　against　the　foamy　cushions；　her　legs　up　and　dangling　over　the　back。　Thus　positioned；　she　would　turn　her　head；　watch　the　slow　wheel　of　the　day　as　it　streamed　in　through　the　skylight　and　by　its　shape　and　its　position　in　the　room　could　divine　the　precise　time　of　day　without　ever　looking　upward　or　out　of　the　window　or　at　the　great　clock　on　the　mantelpiece　behind　her。　But　nevertheless　its　heavy　sonorous　ticking　caused　her　to　dream　of　the　sunlight　as　drops　of　honey；　seeping　in　through　the　panes　of　the　skylight；　onto　her　outthrust　tongue。
　In　just　this　way　she　amused　herself　while　Gelda　was　off　with　her　friends。
　With　a　start；　she　realized　that　she　had　missed　Gelda's　answer。　That　was　all　right；　she　hadn't　meant　to　ask　the　question　anyway　and　now　had　no　interest　in　the　response。
　'You　can　stay　here　as　long　as　you　want；'　Gelda　said。
　'Oh；　that's　all　right。　I　have　to　be　going；　anyway。'　But　she　made　no　move　to　get　up　and　Gelda　chose　not　to　pursue　the　matter　further。
　'You'll　excuse　me；　then。'　Gelda　rose　and　went　through　one　of　the　narrow　gaps　between　the　couches。　'I'll　be　around。'　She　put　her　hand　on　the　back　of　the　couch。　'You　always　loved　this　room　best；　didn't　you？'
　'Yes；'　Justine　said；　somewhat　surprised。
　'I　always　imagined　you　would　have　slept　out　here　if　Mother　would　have　allowed　it。〃
　'Yes。　That　would　have　been　nice。'
　〃Well。〃　Gelda's　fingers　plucked　at　the　fabric。　She　looked　down　at　her　hands；　then　towards　〃die　place　where　Justine　lay　half　sprawled　on　the　cushions。
　'You'll　say　good…bye　before　you　leave；　won't　you？'
　'Sure。'
　Then　she　was　alone　in　the　house　…　the　servants　were　gone　for　the　week…end　…　as　she　had　been　when　she　was　a　child；　and　her　gaze　quite　naturally　fell　to　the　portion　of　the　morning　which　the　skylight　let　in；　reflecting　on　what　it　might　be　like　to　be　a　great　lady　in　some　time　past　when　there　were　no　cars　or　phones　or　even　electricity　…　she　always　adored　candle…light　and　oil　lamps　to　her　meant　taking　to　the　sea　for　years　at　a　time；　hunting　down　the　whales；　imperilled　and　exhilarated　at　the　same　time。　It　was　something　she；　as　a　woman；　would　never　know。　Down　to　the　sea　in　ships　and　back　again　with　enough　oil　for　all　the　lamps　in　Nantucket。　I　should；　she　thought；　have　been　born　a　Starbuck。
　And　that　was　how　Saigo　found　her；　alone　and　dazzled；　lost　within　her　imagination。　She　never　knew　that　she　had　passed　into　unconsciousness　or　that　anything　was　done　to　her　while　she　was　out。　She　might　have　been　sleeping。　But　she　was　not。
　He　worked　over　her　for　fifteen　minutes；　one　ear　alert　for　the　minutest　sound　that　might　herald　an　interruption。　He　could　not　afford　that　now。　He　hoped　that　it　would　not　occur　because　it　would　necessitate　dragging　her　away　from　here　and　this　he　did　not　want　to　do。　She　was　relaxed　here；　it　was　a　place　she　trusted。　That　made　what　he　had　to　do　that　much　easier。
　During　this　time；　Justine's　eyes　were　open　and　it　could　even　be　said　that　she　saw；　in　a　manner　of　speaking。　But　what　she　saw　was　only　his　face；　transfigured；　like　a　geological　fault　line　after　an　earthquake。　There　was　only　a　little　familiarity　among　the　change。　It　had　bee　a　face　that　was　more　than　human。
　It　became　the　ground　she　walked　upon；　the　food　she　ate；　the　water　she　gulped　thirstily　down；　the　air　she　breathed。　It　became　her　world　and；　finally；　her　entire　universe。
　Thus　she　listened　as　it　spoke　to　her；　this　thing　…　being　…which　engulfed　her；　far　larger　than　the　diamond　that　shone　above　her　head。　What　he　did　to　her　was　to　hypnosis　what　the　atom　bomb　was　to　bow　and　arrow。　Here　the　will　of　the　individual　did　not　loom　like　an　unbreachable　wall；　stopping　them　from　doing　that　which　they　could　not　do　had　'they　been　conscious。　Now　all　was　possible；　for　this　was　different。　He　was　ninja。　This　was　the　Kuji…kiri　and；　beyond　that；　the　Kobudera；　that　which　even　his　Kan…au　no；　ninjutsu　sense：　feared。
　It　was　magic。
　He　waited　patiently　until　Nicholas　set　aside　the　sheets　of　rice　paper；　stained　now　with　tears。　It　was　the　end　of　the　long　steamy　afternoon；　the　city　was　slowly　cooling　as　the　bloated　sun　slipped　behind　the　backs　of　the　high　steel　and　glass　buildings。　But　that　was　outside。　In　here　the　West　could　not　intrude。　Here　the　eternalness　of　the　East　defied　time；　shrouding　them　both。　Somewhere；　a　runic　chanting　like　the　call　of　the　cicadas　when　day　is　done。
　'Kansatsu　felt　it　most　prudent　to　await　this　time　to　tell　you；　Nicholas。　Had　you　been　told　sooner；　you　would；　no　doubt；　have　sought　Saigo　out　and　you　were　not　ready　then。　He　would　have　destroyed　you　as　easily　as　he　could　have　done　that　night　in　Kumamoto。'
　'And　now？'　His　voice　was　clotted　with　emotion。
　'He　may　destroy　you　yet。　I　am　afraid；　Nicholas；　that　he　has　gone　beyond　even　the　Kuji…kiri　teachings。　He　sought　out　sensei　who；　because　of　the　nature　of　their　teachings；　would　never　be　allowed　into　a　ryu；　not　even　the　Kan…aka　na　ninjutsen。　These
　were　mystics　steeped　in　the　ancient　lore　of　that　portion　of　China　…　the　central　steppes　of　Mongolia　…　of　which　there　is　little　known　even　today。　There　is　magic　in　him　now；　Nicholas；　and　it　has　taken　him　over　pletely。'
　'Well；　there　is　a　kind　of　magic　inherent　in　many　of　our　own　ninjutsu　teachings。'
　'There　are　imagined　magic　…　that　is；　illusion　…　and　real　magic。　The　two　should　not　be　confused。'
　Nicholas　knew　better　than　to　argue　this　kind　of　thing　with　Fukashigi　and　he　was　silent　all　through　the　simple　meal　the　sensei　had　prepared。　Afterwards；；　in　the　darkness　of　the　night；　Fukashigi　began　the　ritual　that　would　last　until　morning。
　'Here'　…　his　fingertips　touching　the　opened　box　lid　…　'is　the　Kokoro。'　This　was　a　word　that；　like　almost　all　Japanese　words；　had　many　meanings：　heart；　spirit；　courage；　resolve；　affection；　inner　meaning；　and　more。　It　could；　in　sum；　be　said　to　be　the　heart　of　the　matter。　'It；　too；　is　real　magic。　Your　mother　knew　this　and；　although　she　suspected　your　father　did　not；　she　knew　that　you　would。　It　was　meant　for　you。'　His　young　eyes　were　watchful；　full　of　life　and　…　something　more。　'Nine　is　the　key　number；　Nicholas。　There　are　nine　emeralds　here。　One　to　break　each　arm　of　the　Kuji…kiri　…　nine…hands　cutting。'
　Saigo　awoke　in　the　hour　before　dawn　and　left　his　futon。　There　was　much　to　do　this　last　day　and　the　hours　seemed　to　run　ahead　of　him　despite　his　precise　organization。　He　had　slept　soundly　and　dreamlessly　for　the　first　time　in　more　than　a　week。
　He　was　on　the　streets　early。　He　went　deep　into　the　East　Village；　to　an　enormous　army…navy…camping　store　where　he　purchased　a　dark…coloured　heavyweight　duffel　bag　with　a　triple…weight　polythene　lining。　He　tested　the　duffel　bag's　sling　straps　for　strength。
　Walking　crosstown　to　the　IND　subway　…　he　was　most　careful　at　this　stage　to　take　only　public　transport　…　he　emerged　at　Forty…seventh　Street　and　walked　the　block　over　to　Broadway。　There　he　entered　a　theatrical　supply　house。
　His　third　stop　was　at　Brooks　Brothers；　where　he　purchased　a　lightweight　tan　business　suit　off　the　rack。　The　jacket　was　perfect　but　he　left　the　trousers　with　a　tailor　to　be　shortened。　On
　his　way　out；　he　bought　a　muted　plaid　pork…pie　hat　which　looked　absurd　on　him　in　the　light　of　day　but　which；　he　knew；　would　be　perfect　at　night。
　His　last　stop　was　in　Chinatown；　where　he　picked　up　a　bamboo　cane。　Then；　dropping　off　his　parcels　…　which　included　the　trousers　…　he　went　out　again；　prowling　in　search　of　someone　who　looked　just　like　him。　This　was　something　he　had　scouted　on　first　arriving　in　New　York。　Height；　weight；　the　physical　semblance　of　his　physique　were　all　he　was　concerned　with。　The　face　itself　would　not　matter。　Not　after　he　got　through　with　it。
　Croaker　called　in　twice　at　half…hour　intervals　and　it　was　a　good　thing　he　did。　Either　they　had　misplaced　the　message　the　first　time　or　it　had　not　yet　e　in。
　He　got　it　on　the　second　call　in。
　'Matty　called。　Didn't　leave　his　…'
　〃That's　okay。　I　got　it。'
　In　the　traffic　he　began　to　look　for　a　phone　and　when　he　found　one；　pulled　over　to　the　kerb。　He　dug　a　dime　out　of　his　pocket　and　dialled。　No　police　lines　on　this　call。
　'Not　here；'　Matty　the　Mouth　said　in　a　very　bad　Italian　accent。
　'It's　Croaker。'
　'Oh。　Hi。'
　*Cut　the　small　talk。　You　got　it？'
　'Yeah　but　it's　worth　a　lotta　…'
　'Matty；　we've　already　settled　on　a　price。'
　'Yeah；　well；　you　see；　Lieutenant；　what　we　have　here　is　a　fluctuating　market。'
　'What　are　you　trying　to　pull？〃
　'The　price　i