ericlustbader.the ninja-第21部分

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neffectual　moon　whirled　about　by　the　proximity　of　a　nova。　Great　turbulent　currents；　powerful　eddies；　disturbed　his　tranquillity；　and　this　inability　to　return　to　a　semblance　of　inner　balance　until　Satsugai　had　left　frightened　him。
　On　the　other　hand；　his　aunt　in　no　way　created　the　same　effect　on　him。　She　was　an　exceedingly　small　and　delicately　boned　woman；　beautiful　though；　in　Nicholas's　opinion；　the　perfect　symmetry　of　her　face　could　not　pare　to　his　mothers　features。
　Itami　always　wore　formal　Japanese　attire。　She　was　constantly　attended　by　servants。　Her　diminutive　size　made　all　the　more　fascinating　her　rather　charismatic　nature。　She　was；　the　Colonel　had　told　him；　a　member　of　one　of　Japan's　greatest　and　oldest　houses；　of　the　bushi　class。　She　was　a　samurai　lady。　She　had　been　married　to　Satsugai　for　eleven　years　and　he；　as　far　as　Nicholas　knew；　was　a　wealthy　and　influential　businessman。
　Then　there　was　Itami's　son；　Saigo。　He　was　a　year　older　than　Nicholas；　a　large　burly　boy　with　deep　brooding　eyes　and　a　cruel　and　calculating　disposition。　He　spent　much　time　with　his　father　but；　on　the　many　occasions　when　the　two　families　assembled；　it　was　inevitable　that　Nicholas　and　Saigo　should　be　thrown　together。
　It　seemed　to　Nicholas　that　the　other　boy　hated　him　almost　on　sight。　Why　this　should　be　so　he　could　not　imagine。　Not　until　much　later。　But　then　he　reacted　as　any　boy　in　any　part　of　the　world　might　to　such　unadulterated　hostility。　He　returned　measure　for　measure。
　It　was；　of　course；　Satsugai　who　had　put　Saigo　up　to　it。　This　knowledge；　when　it　came　to　him；　only　increased　Nicholas's　hatred　and　fear　of　the　man。　But　then　it　was　also　Saigo　who　introduced　Nicholas　to　Yukio。　As　it　is　said；　all　things　in　life　balance　themselves　out。
　Don't　they？
　
　
　
　
　Second　Ring
　THE　WIND　BOOK
　I
　New　York　CityWest　Bay　Bridge；　Summer　Present
　When　the　man　with　the　mirrored　aviator　sunglasses　emerged　from　the　depths　of　Pennsylvania　Station　on　the　Seventh　Avenue　side　he　did　not　look　around　him；　nor　did　he　walk　immediately　to　the　kerb；　as　did　most　of　his　fellow　passengers；　to　wave　a　raised　hand　to　hail　a　cruising　taxi。
　Instead；　he　waited　dutifully　for　the　light　to　change　and；　when　it　did；　went　quickly　across　the　avenue；　ignoring　the　light　rain。　By　the　way　he　walked　and；　perhaps　because　of　the　rather　long　black　duffel　bag　slung　obliquely　across　his　muscular　shoulder；　one　might　have　thought　he　was　a　professional　dancer；　he　moved　as　effortlessly　and　as　gracefully　as　the　wind。
　He　wore　a　short…sleeved　navy　silk　shirt　and　cotton　slacks　of　the　same　deep　blue；　charcoal…grey　suede　shoes　with　…almost　no　heel　and　soles　as　dun　as　paper。　His　face　was　rather　wide；　deep　lines　were　scored　downwards　from　each　side　of　his　mouth　as　if　he　had　never　learned　how　to　smile。　His　black　hair　was　cut　short　and　brisly。
　On　the　east　side　of　Seventh　Avenue　he　went　by　the　crowded　facade　of　the　Statler　Hilton　Hotel；　crossed　Thirty…second　Street　and；　passing　up　the　green　and　white　awning　of　the　Chinatown　Express；　ducked　into　the　McDonald's　next　door。
　Inside；　he　went　swiftly　through　the　garish　yellow　and　orange　interior　to　a　line　of　telephone　booths　along　one　wall。　At　the　side　of　the　extreme　left…hand　booth　was　a　row　of　telephone；　directories　encased　in　steel　bindings　to　discourage　theft　and　vandalism。　They　hung　down　in　a　stand　waist…high　like　quiescent　bats　in　a　cave。
　The　man　in　the　sunglasses　pushed　up　the　Yellow　Pages　book。　Its　cover　was　torn　and　defaced　and　the　bottom　edges　of　a　large　hunk　of　the　centre　pages　were　mutilated　as　if　someone　had　attempted　to　eat　them。　He　leafed　through　the　book　until　he　came　to　the　section　he　wanted。　He　ran　one　forefinger　down　the　page。　Near　the　bottom；　it　stopped　and　the　man　nodded　to　himself。　He　already　knew　the　address　but；　out　of　long　habit；　liked　to　double…check　his　information。
　Once　more　outside；　he　recrossed　the　avenue；　walking　west　at　a　brisk　pace　along　the　width　of　the　Madison　Square　Garden　plex；　and　caught　an　uptown　bus　on　Eighth　Avenue。　It　was　crowded。　He　stood　in　the　hot　and　airless　interior。　The　bus　smelled　of　stale　sweat　and　mildew。
　At　the　Seventy…fourth　Street　stop　he　swung　off　and　walked　up　one　block。　There　he　turned　off　Central　Park　West　and　headed　west　towards　the　Hudson　River。　The　rain　had　ceased　for　the　moment　but　the　sky　remained　clpse　and　dark；　as　if　hung　over　from　a　long　night　of　revelry。　The　air　was　pletely　calm。　The　city　steamed。
　He　found　the　address　approximately　midway　between　Columbus　Avenue　and　Broadway　on　the　nordi　side　of　the　street。　His　nostrils　flared　for　an　instant　as　he　mounted　the　steps　of　the　brownstone。　He　opened　the　glass　and　wood　outer　doors　and　stepped　into　the　tiny　vestibule。　Before　him　was　a　modern　steel　and　wire　glass　door　securely　locked。　There　was　a　buzzer　on　the　wall　of　the　vestibule　which　he　pushed　firmly。　Just　above　it　was　a　discreet　brass　plate　on　which　was　etched　TOHOKU　NO　DOJO　and；　above　that；　a　small　oval　speaker　grille。
　'Yes？'　came　a　tinny　voice　from　the　grille。
　The　man　with　the　sunglasses　leaned　slightly　to　the　side。　'I　wish　an　appointment；'　he　said。
　He　waited；　one　hand　already　on　the　knob　of　the　inner　door。
　'Please　e　up。　Second　floor。　Around　to　the　left　as　far　as　you　can　go。'
　The　door　buzzed　and　he　pushed　it　open。
　He　could　smell　the　tang　of　sweat；　tinged　with　the　piquant　spices　of　exertion　and　fear。　For　the　first　time　since　setting　foot　in　the　city；　he　felt　at　home。　Contemptuously；　he　tossed　this　feeling　aside。　He　went　swiftly　and　silently　up　the　carpeted　stairs。
　Terry　Tanaka　was　on　the　phone　to　Vincent　when　Eileen　came　up　to　him。　Seeing　the　look　in　her　eyes；　he　asked　Vincent　to　hold　the　line　and；　putting　his　palm　over　the　phone；　said；　'What　is　it；　Ei？'
　There's　a　man　here　who　wishes　to　practise　today。'
　'So？　We　can　handle　it。　Sign　him　up。'
　'I　think　you　had　better　take　care　of　this　one　yourself；'　she　said。
　'Why？　What's　the　matter？'
　'Well；　for　one　thing；　he's　asking　to　see　you。　And　for　another；　I've　seen　the　way　he　walks。　He's　no　student。'
　Terry　smiled。　'You　see　how　our　fame　has　spread？　That　piece　in　New　Yor^　was　great。'　But　when　she　did　not　respond；　he　said；　'That's　not　all；　is　it？'
　She　shook　her　head。　'The　guy　gives　me　the　creeps。　His　eyes　。。。'　She　shrugged。　〃I　don't　know。　But　I　wish　you'd　handle　it。'
　'Okay。　Listen；　give　him　a　cup　of　tea　or　something。　I'll　be　right　there。'
　She　nodded；　giving　him　a　thin　smile。
　'What　was　that？'　Vincent　said　in　his　ear。
　Terry　uncovered　the　mouthpiece。　'Oh；　nothing　probably。　Just　a　client　who's　spooked　Ei。'
　'How　is　she？'
　Tine。'
　'And　the　two　of　you？'
　'Oh；　you　know。　About　the　same。'　Terry　gave　him　a　quick　laugh。　'I'm　still　waiting　for　her　to　say　yes。　I've　been　on　one　knee　so　many　times；　I've　worn　out　four　pairs　of　trousers。'
　Vincent　laughed。　'We　still　on　for　dinner　tonight？'
　'Sure。　As　long　as　it's　an　early　one。　I　want　to　see　Ei　tonight。'
　〃Sure　thing。　Just　some　questions　I'd　like　to　ask　you。　Nick　was　going　to　e　but　…'
　'Hey'　How　is　he？　He　called　just　before　he　went　out　to　the　Island。　Has　he　been　loafing　all　summer？'
　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　gi