ericlustbader.the ninja-第115章
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'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 the periphery of his vision and instinctively he raised his arm in front of his face。
Then something had wrapped itself about his' ankles and he was dragged off his feet。 Metal links scraped and dug painfully into his flesh。 He gasped and twisted； feeling like a fish on a line。
He looked down。 A long chain with a weight on its end was strung taut； pulling him into a stand of dense poplars beyond which stretched long fields of corn。
He rolled； puffing； tried to sit up。 There was a blade at his throat。
He looked up。 Before the sky； as rich a cerulean as he had ever seen it； he saw a face … at least part of one … that made him shudder。 All the breath went out of him。
He stared into eyes as dead as stones； madman's eyes。 So different from those others long ago； yet the same。 The ninja； Doc Deerforth thought。 His mind seemed to freeze with the thought； as if there could be no room in the world now for anything else。 His life seemed to shrivel down to the size of a pea and； disappearing altogether； bee totally insignificant。
Cicadas chimed； flies buzzed。 He was back in the Philippines； back in the tent； tied to the table。
And the soft； knowing voice said to him； 'Why have you followed me？'
'Why have you followed the girl？'
There was absolutely no change of expression in those staring eyes； of that he was quite certain。 But； without warning； the ninja jerked on the chain and the saw…toothed steel links bit through skin； sawing into tissue； ground against bone。
Doc Deerforth's head flew back and breath whistled through his half…open lips。 Blood drained from his face。
'Why have you followed me？'
The words came again and again like a litany； a friar's prayer at day's end … what did they call mat？ Vespers？
'Why have you followed me？〃
Time ceased to exist as the pain rose and fell like the tide …now faster； now slower； so dial he had no clear idea of when it would make his jaws clamp together in a rictus； make the sweat fly off him as he jerked this way and that；
