ericlustbader.the ninja-第21节
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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
