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ericlustbader.the ninja-第48章

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 'I didn't have to be。 I knew him。 Believe me; there's no illegal involvement。 At least; not in the way you think。'
 'Which leads us back to bushido; right?' He was interrupted by the food。 He waited until the waitress had gone before he said; 'You know; Linnear; for those two stiffs being your friends you certainly aren't broken up about it。'
 Nicholas sat perfectly still。 A pulse beat strongly in the side of his neck; a cool wind seemed to blow through his brain。 There were haunting echoes; as if he were hearing the words of his ancestors carried to him through the corridors of time。 Beneath the table; his fingers were as stiff as knives; his thigh muscles like steel。 He required no blade; no concealed weapon。 There was only himself; as deadly a killing machine as ever was created in any country at any time。
 Croaker was staring into his eyes。 'It's all right;〃 he said softly。 He gestured with the tines of his fork; laced with running yolk。 'Your food's getting cold。' He went to work on his own and never knew just how close he had e to being killed。
 There was anger and then there was anger。 Just as there were insults and there were insults。 Lew Croaker was just another dumb Westerner; Nicholas told himself as he ate。 He had no idea what he was doing or what effect his words would have。 He had said what he had in order to find out; to read their effect in Nicholas's face。 There should have been no reaction at all。 Bujutsu had taught him that。 But it had been a long time and he had been off his guard because he had been with a Westerner。
 Which just goes to show you; Nicholas thought。 Danger es cloaked in many forms。 Not that he thought of Lew Croaker as any kind of danger; far from it。 But; he realized; ignorance brings its own kind of danger and Croaker had unwittingly put his head on the block。
 Croaker glanced up at him from time to time as they ate; as Nicholas tried to define the plex concept of bushido to him。 Obedience might be the basis but; to Western minds at least; that word had such a pejorative nature that it seemed like the wrong beginning。 Because bushido was defined not only by sociology and religion but by history; too。 To Americans; who thought in terms of two hundred years when it came to their own country; the concept of centuries seemed like deep water indeed。
 Still; Croaker seemed to absorb it all quite seriously; his interest deepening as Nicholas progressed。 At the end; over coffee; Croaker sat back; took out a MintyPick。 His eyes wandered for a time; then he said; oddly; 'I got an old lady; who drives me bats。 She's never around when I get home。'
 'According to you;' Nicholas said; 'you rarely get home。〃
 Croaker took a swig of the coffee; winced; poured in cream。 He broke open a packet of granulated sugar; stirred it in。 'I don't know what it is but 1 just can't seem to get used to it straight。' He took a swallow; nodded approvingly; looked up。 'All right; I did say that; yeah。 What I mean is; the odd times I do e home; it makes it all the worse; y'know?'
 'You need a new job;' Nicholas said pointedly。
 'Nah。 I think I need a new lady; is all。 See; Alison's an endocrinologist。 She's been working on a project for three and a half years。 It must be a bastard 'cause I don't think they're any closer now than they were when they started。' He rolled the toothpick around his mouth; from one side to the other。 'Rebinant DNA。' …'Clones; huh?'
 Croaker liked that; his face brightened。 'Yeah。' He laughed。 'She's building an army of super…fuckin…humans。 Gonna make you an' me obsolete; Jack。' He laughed again。 'Nah; nothing so dramatic。 They're trying to find a way to alter the DNA in a mother's womb so people with hereditary diseases can have children。' He brooded over his coffee for a while。 'Things haven't been too good for a while。 I think it's time to get out。'
 'So get out;' Nicholas said。
 Croaker looked up。 'Yeah。' There was an awkward silence。 'Listen; about what I said before …'
 'Let's go;' Nicholas said; standing up。 'We've got an appointment and it won't do to be late。'
 It was cool and dry inside without the benefit of artificial air…conditioning。 It was as if they were far below the surface of the earth where it was naturally cool。 The summer sun could not penetrate this far。
 The walls were of enormous stone blocks; quite thick; so as to be able to retain the coolness even on the hottest of days; there was a second storey to take the brunt of the sun。
 Over the sounds of their movement; Croaker could hear faint echoes; like calm voices heard at the bottom of a pond through the intervening water; he could not understand the words but he knew they were there。 As they moved closer; he could begin to discern other sounds as well: wordless noises as precise as close…order army drill; recalling to him the long days of basic training in that remote; dusty town in Georgia。
 'Film and television discovered the martial arts some years ago;' Nicholas said as they proceeded; 'and turned them into a circus entertainment。 As a result; they're taken about as seriously as professional wrestling over here。 At best; they are quite misunderstood by Americans。' Nicholas stopped and turned to Croaker。 'The Way is not mere killing。 That is a purely Western notion。 You pull out a gun and boom! you destroy life。 That is not the Way。 The basis of all bujutsu is internal。'
 They began to walk again and the sounds came nearer now。 Croaker thought he heard the rhythmic slap of bare feet against wood; the crack of wood against wood as if a giant were playing an outsized percussion instrument。
 'Bujutsu is not something to be taken lightly; Lieutenant; I assure you;' Nicholas continued。 'It is neither a conjurer's trick nor a parlour game amusement; but deadly serious。' He turned his head。 'I trust I'm not being redundant。 I'm merely being careful。 You see; the average Westerner will never see nor even hear about the true bujutsu adept。 Why should he; since the adept neither wishes for nor gets any kind of publicity。
 'Despite its violent nature; bujutsu is more in synch with religion … Zen and Shinto specifically … than it is with; say; sports。 It is a way of life; governed by bushido。 An adept would mit seppuku … ritual suicide … rather than break the code。 Everything in life; Lieutenant … every thing … is subject to bushido。 I hope you can understand that。'
 'I'm not certain that I do;' Croaker said truthfully。 Yet something swam at the edge of his consciousness; tantalizing him。 He wondered what it was; then shrugged mentally; left it alone。 Straining after it; he knew; would only push it further away。
 'It's not surprising。' Nicholas gave him a bleak smile that contained no warmth。 'For some Westerners it takes years to understand。' He was a bit ahead of Croaker now。 'For others' …he shrugged … 'It never es at all。'
 There was nothing in the world that could make Gelda Tomkin Odile cry; yet she felt close to tears now。 She stood in the coolness of her Sutton Place apartment; looking out at the bright sunshine turning the East River solid。 It might have been a river of salt for all the reality it had for her。 The familiar view looked as flat as a painting and as unappetizing。 Perhaps it was a painting; after all; she thought; but she knew that she was not thinking clearly。 That was the one thing she was happy about; what she had been searching for。 The Chivas was no longer sufficient; and; she thought wryly; it's bad for business。 Grass was no damn good。 She had found that out a long time ago。 Because she could control it and she needed something that controlled her。 Hallucinogens were useless to her and opium merely knocked her out。 Then she had found that codeine pills in conjunction with the whisky were just what the doctor ordered。 She laughed sardonically at that。
 The phone rang in the room behind her; a soft burring that was as much a part of the atmosphere of the place as was the long leather couch whose surface; could only be warmed by contact with naked flesh。
 Gelda stared out of the window; in no hurry to answer the phone; it would continue to ring until she picked it up; if she were not at home or did not want to be disturbed; the machine would have intercepted 
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