ericlustbader.the ninja-第89节

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　At　last　he　climbed　out　of　the　car；　shut　the　door　behind　him　with　a　soft　thunk。　The　night　seemed　terribly　still。
　He　went　silently　around　to　the　side　of　the　house；　found　the　small　pile　of　leaves　Ataki　had　left　for　the　morning's　burning。　Kneeling　down；　he　set　it　to　flame；　listening　meditatively　to　the　crisp　crackle；　inhaling　the　pungent　odour。
　He　stared　into　the　fire。　Odd　what　one　remembers；　he　thought；　in　times　like　these。　Like　a　submarine　suddenly　surfacing；　the　memory　came　to　him　of　the　bright　summer　afternoon　when　he　had　been　locked　in　the　crucial　meeting　with　Prime　Minister　Yoshida；　debating　the　specific　consequences　of　the　Korean　War　with　John　Foster　Dulles；　General　Bradley　and　Defence　Secretary　Johnson。　Dulles　was　in　Tokyo　because　among　the　first　American　troops　being　sent　into　Korea　were　those　who　had　been　occupying　Japan　since　1945。　But　that　left　the　bases　and　approximately　a　quarter　of　a　million　U。S。　dependants　left　unprotected　in　Japan。　The　Americans　were；　of　course；　against　this　and　they　proposed　the　mencement　of　a　Japanese　military。　It　was　a　bombshell　proposal　because　such　a　force　would　be　in　direct　violation　of　Article　9　of　the　Japanese　Constitution　written　in　1947：　'Land；　sea；　and　air　forces；　as　well　as　other　war　potential；　will　never　be　maintained。'
　In　the　best　of　American　traditions；　Johnson　assailed　Dulles's　stance　and　the　P。M。　reacted　negatively　to　Dulles's　plea　for　Japanese　remilitarization。　However；　it　was　clear　that　something　had　to　be　done。　The　Colonel　proposed　that　the　existing　Japanese；　police　force　be　expanded　to　approximately　75；000　men；　calling　it　a　National　Police　Reserve。　'We　will　have　an　effective　army　i　without　having　to　call　it　mat；'　the　Colonel　had　said。
　For　Dulles；　of　course；　this　was　not　enough；　but　Yoshida；　seeing　that　the　Colonel　had　given　him　a　way　out　without　any　loss　｜　of　face；　readily　agreed。　The　plan　would　have　to　be；　by　definition；
　Top　Secret。　Even　the　recruits；　Yoshida　insisted；　must　not　know　the　true　purpose　for　which　they　were　being　trained。
　The　P。M。　then　set　up　the　Annex　of　Civil　Affairs　Section　within　the　existing　bureaucracy　to　be　responsible　for　recruitment　and　training；　and　an　American　officer　was　put　in　charge。
　Afterwards；　Yoshida　had　asked　the　Colonel　to　remain。　Tension　still　laced　the　room　like　rancid　fruit　and　the　P。M。　suggested　they　take　a　walk　in　his　gardens。
　'I　owe　you　a　great　debt　of　thanks；'　he　had　said　after　the　usual　amount　of　conversational　courtesies　which；　even　in　such　a　signal　situation；　could　not　be　ignored。
　'The　problem　is；　sir；　that　the　Americans　still　do　not　understand　us。'　He　saw　Yoshida　glance　sideways　at　him。　'Perhaps　they　never　will。　They　have　been　here　a　long　time。'
　The　Prime　Minister　smiled。　'Remember；　Colonel；　that　there　was　a　time　when　we　did　not　understand　the　Americans。'
　'But　there　is；　I　think；　in　Japan；　a　greater　ability　for　cultural　absorption。'
　Yoshida　sighed。　'Yes。　Perhaps　that　is　so。　But；　in　any　event；　I'm　most　grateful　to　you。　Mr　Dulles　was　most　anxious　to　back　me　into　a　corner。　What　he　was　no　doubt　leading　up　to　was　a　Japanese　involvement　in　the　Korean　War。　Why　else　ask　for　a　sudden　enormous　military　build…up　here？'　He　shook　his　head；　his　small　hands　clasped　behind　his　back。　'It　is　unthinkable；　Colonel；　for　us　to　send　troops　into　Korea。'
　Unthinkable；　the　Colonel　thought　now；　kneeling　in　the　brittle　night。　That　time　we　avoided　the　unthinkable；　by　the　grace　of　God。　Now　it　had　happened。
　The　fire　was　going　strong。　He　reached　the　cord　out　of　the　pocket　of　his　dark　nylon　jacket；　dropped　it　into　the　centre　of　the　tiny　conflagration。
　He　was　not　surprised　to　see　that　the　knot　in　its　centre　was　the　last　to　blacken　and　fall　into　ashes。
　Said　goodbye　to　Mount　Aso；　hello　to　Mount　Fuji。
　It　rained　most　of　the　way　back；　drops　beading　the　windowpane；　streaking　in　fat　rivulets　as　they　bined。　The　low　sky　was　black；　filled　with　evil；　fulminating　clouds。　A　stiff　wind　out　of　the　north　quarter　plummeted　the　temperatures；　winter　was　here　at　last。
　Nicholas　shifted　unfortably　from　one　buttock　to　another；　finding　it　painful　to　sit　normally。　Someone　farther　along　the　car　kept　fiddling　with　the　tuning　dial　of　a　transistor　radio：　brief　bursts　of　rock　music　interspersed　with　a　dry；　cultured　voice　announcing　the　news。　Saburo；　the　leader　of　the　Japanese　Socialist　Party；　was　under　fire　again　for　his　'structural　reform'　policies　which　the　Party　had　adopted　a　little　over　two　years　ago。　Speculation　was　that　he　would　be　out　soon。
　Just　north　of　Osaka；　the　rain　turned　to　hail；　pattering　against　the　windows　as　it　tap…danced　along　the　hull　of　the　train。
　Nicholas；　scrunched　down　in　the　seat；　shivered　slightly　despite　the　adequate　heating。　Vaguely；　as　if　the　feeling　belonged　to　another　person　and　he　had；　perhaps；　got　his　lines　crossed；　he　felt　hungry。　But　he　had　not　left　his　seat　since　he　had　boarded　this　train　at　Osaka；　had　collapsed　into　it。　Any　movement　at　all　seemed　a　chore　to　him　now。　Perhaps；　before　they　pulled　into　the　station　at　Tokyo；　he　would　be　obliged　to　relieve　himself。　He　preferred　not　to　think　about　that　now。　But　then　any　kind　of　thought　was　difficult　at　the　moment。　His　mind　was　a　wind　tunnel；　leaves　whirled　by　the　same　currents；　creating　precisely　the　same　patterns　no　matter　how　many　times　the　tune　was　replayed。
　Hear　the　groaning；　feel　the　heat　on　his　face：　the　light　…　shade　off　the　lamp？　Shadows　moving；　rising；　falling；　larger　than　life。　Saigo；　oddly；　making　the　bed。　Yukio；　dressed　in　skirt　and　blouse；　packing　rather　mechanically。　He　tried　to　say　something　but　it　was　as　if　his　mouth　had　been　packed　with　dry　sand。　Was　his　larynx　paralysed　as　well？
　Saigo　took　her　by　the　arm；　bag　in　her　other　hand。　They　both　had　to　step　over　him　to　reach　the　door。　Lay　there　like　a　quadriplegic；　eyes　blinking　salt　sweat　and　tears。　He　strained　to　see　her　face　but　it　was　in　partial　shadow；　her　long　hair　swinging　across　her　cheek。
　Saigo　stopped　her　with　a　word　in　her　ear；　leaned　backwards　and　down；　his　face；　shiny　with　sweat；　hovering　just　over　Nicholas's。
　'You　see　how　it　is　now；　don't　you？　There's　a　good　boy。'　He　sneered。　'And　don't　bother　ing　after；　him？　There's　really　no　point。　Because　this　is　good…bye。　No　sayonara　this　time。　Get　it？'　He　reached　out；　patted　Nicholas's　cheek　almost　tenderly。
　'If　we　ever　meet　this　way　again；　I'll　kill　you。'
　Shadows　looming　…　were　they　really　people？　…　and　then　gone；　just　the　after…image；　dark　on　his　retinas。　He　closed　his　eyes　at　last　and　concentrated　on　breathing。
　The　paralysis　began　to　fade　some　time　after　dawn；　he　estimated。　He　could　not　be　certain　of　the　time　because　he　must　have　fallen　asleep　at　some　point。　Only　knew　that　when　he　awoke　just　before　eight；　he　could　move　his　fingers　and　toes。
　Within　the　hour　he　could　stand　and　even　walk　steadily。　He　went　into　his　own　bathroom　and　stayed　there　for　a　long　time。
　His　first　stop　was　the　warehouse。　The　character　of　the　street　was　totally　different　in　the　daytime。　This　was　near　the　centre　of　the　business　district　and　during　the　day　the　area　was　jammed　with　traffic　and　pedestrians。
　He　tried　the　front　door　but　it　was　locked。　After　two　plete　circuits　of　the　place；　he　was　convinced　that　there　was　no　other　way　in。　Picking　the　lock　was　out　of　the　question。
　He　went　into　a　near…by　teahouse　for　breakfast；　sitting　at　a　table　that　gave　him　an　oblique　but　clear　view　of　the　building's　front！　He　drew　a　blank　and　after　an　hour　gave　up。
　While　paying　the　bill；　he　asked　directions　to　the　local　police　station。　It　proved　to　be　a　short　walk　away。　He　was　sent　up　to　the　second　floor　of　the　wood　and　brick　buildings。　The　place　smelled　of　cement　and　turpentine。
　The　sergeant　on　duty　sat　behind　a　desk　that　was　as　battered　and　scarred　as　a　war　veteran。　He　was　a　small　man；　rather　young；　with　a　very　yellow　plexion　and　a　wide　moustache　meant　to　disguise　his　splay　teeth。　His　uniform　was　so　neat　that　Nicholas　could　see　the　creases　in　his　blouse。
　He　seemed　sympathetic；　even　helpful。　He　took　down　all　the　particulars；　including　the　address'　of　the　warehouse。　But　his　eyebrows　shot　up　when　Nicholas　told　him　what　was　behind　the　red　lacquered　door　on　the　third　floor。
　'A　ninjutsu　ryu？　Young　man；　are　you　certain　this　isn't　some　sort　of　prank？　…　a　college　hazing；　that　sort　of　thing。　Because　if　it　is；　I　under　…'
　'No；'　Nicholas　said。　'It's　nothing　like　that。'
　'But　surely；'　the　young　sergeant　said；　stroking　his　moustache　lovingly　with　one　forefinger；　'you　know　that　the　ninja　no　longer　exist。　They　died　out；　oh；　almost　a　century　ago。〃
　'Do　you　have　any　proof　of　that？'
　'Now　see　here　…'
　'Please；　Sergeant。　All　I　am　asking　is　that　you　send　some　men　round　to　the　warehouse　and　check。'
　The　sergeant　took　his　hand　reluctantly　from　his　upper　lip；　held　it　out　palm　first。　'All　right；　Mr　Linnear。　All　right。　Just　leave　it　to　me。　You　go　back　to　your　hotel　and　wait　for　my　call。〃
　It　wasn't　until　after　three。
　'Yes？'
　'Mr　Linnear。'　The　sergeant's　voice　sounded　weary。
　'Did　you　go　to　the　warehouse？'
　'Yes。　I　went　myself。　With　two　patrolmen。　It　is　owned　by　Pacific　Imports。'
　'Did　you　see　the　sign　on　the　door？'
　'There　was　no　sign。　Just　a　plain　door。'
　'But　there　must　be　…'
　'The　warehouse　was　closed　today　but　we　were　able　to　scare　up　the　watchman。　He　was