Linnear 03 - White Ninja by Eric Van Lustbader Page B
Authors: Eric Van Lustbader
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
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blind looks upon life differently than one who has had his sight taken from him. Cruelly, Nicholas was aware of what he was missing, and the knowledge ate at him like acid.
Still, because he had been so weak after the operation,
he could not know for certain if the damage were irreparable until he returned home and began his twice daily workouts. Physical proof was required that he had been reduced to the status of mere mortal. Which accounted for his moods, his anxiety and his sleepless nights. Quite simply, he was terrified to confront the truth. As long as there was a shred of hope that he was wrong, and in time Getsumei no michi would be returned to him, there was something to hold on to. But after the first atemi was struck, when he would know absolutely whether or not he had been abandoned, he knew that there would no longer be room for hope, only reality.
Now it had happened; his worst nightmare come true. He was like a man naked beneath a blinding sun with no protection, nowhere to run.
He had never been aware of how he relied on his. godlike state until it had been stripped from him. How dull and uninteresting, real life seemed with its reliance on the five under-developed senses.
Who knew how long Nicholas would have continued to sit on his engawa contemplating light and shadow, refusing to come to terms with his fate, had not Lew Croaker's letter arrived, had he not asked Justine to read it, had she not been curious about Croaker's new hand.
That had cut it. In the face of what his friend had gone through - and was still dealing with - Nicholas felt abject and foolish for putting off what he knew was inevitable.
He had gone into his workout room and, staring 'hard at the padded pole, had begun his preliminary breathing exercises, had, without thinking, assumed the ready position, and had struck out. ' The first atemi, the basic percussive blow of aikido, was struck. And it was as if he were a rank beginner. The form remained, ingrained in his musculature, but there was nothing behind it: no conviction, no mind-set,
no purity of purpose. Instead, Nicholas's mind was a chaos of conflicting thoughts and images deflecting and reflecting off one another in wild concatenation.
Nicholas, mechanically striking the padded pole over and over, was in shock. He could not quite believe it was happening. Getsumei no michi gone. His mind no longer part of the benevolent Void, emptied in order to absorb fully each clear thought, but rather a babble of mutually antagonistic currents, each seeking its own independent end.
And that was how Justine found him, collapsed on to the tatami mats, his chin lolling on his sweat-streaked chest.
He heard her enter, heard her little gasp of horror and, lifting his head, he saw the look of pity in her eyes, and could not bear it.
'Get out!' he shouted. And, because he had unconsciously used kiai, the samurai's war shout, Justine felt as if she had been physically assaulted. She recoiled, reeling in bewilderment. 'Get the hell away from me!'
When Tomi Yazawa shut the door to Commander Omukae's office behind her, she was trembling. She stood still for one long moment, composing herself. The realization that she had revealed to a man she did not know well, more than she had revealed to anyone else in the world, shocked her. More, it shamed her. No matter that Senjin Omukae had given her permission to speak; she should have kept her mouth shut. Why, then, had she spoken? And why had she spoken the truth instead of a well-crafted, face-saving lie?
Tomi did not know, but she suspected that her weakness of resolve had had something to do with Commander Omukae's beautiful face. She shuddered as she recalled the moment when he had stood up, moving into her line of sight. She knew then that he had trapped her as surely
as if he were a hunter with a snare. She had had no recourse but to look directly into his face for the whole of the interview.
The experience had been terrifying. She had
Still, because he had been so weak after the operation,
he could not know for certain if the damage were irreparable until he returned home and began his twice daily workouts. Physical proof was required that he had been reduced to the status of mere mortal. Which accounted for his moods, his anxiety and his sleepless nights. Quite simply, he was terrified to confront the truth. As long as there was a shred of hope that he was wrong, and in time Getsumei no michi would be returned to him, there was something to hold on to. But after the first atemi was struck, when he would know absolutely whether or not he had been abandoned, he knew that there would no longer be room for hope, only reality.
Now it had happened; his worst nightmare come true. He was like a man naked beneath a blinding sun with no protection, nowhere to run.
He had never been aware of how he relied on his. godlike state until it had been stripped from him. How dull and uninteresting, real life seemed with its reliance on the five under-developed senses.
Who knew how long Nicholas would have continued to sit on his engawa contemplating light and shadow, refusing to come to terms with his fate, had not Lew Croaker's letter arrived, had he not asked Justine to read it, had she not been curious about Croaker's new hand.
That had cut it. In the face of what his friend had gone through - and was still dealing with - Nicholas felt abject and foolish for putting off what he knew was inevitable.
He had gone into his workout room and, staring 'hard at the padded pole, had begun his preliminary breathing exercises, had, without thinking, assumed the ready position, and had struck out. ' The first atemi, the basic percussive blow of aikido, was struck. And it was as if he were a rank beginner. The form remained, ingrained in his musculature, but there was nothing behind it: no conviction, no mind-set,
no purity of purpose. Instead, Nicholas's mind was a chaos of conflicting thoughts and images deflecting and reflecting off one another in wild concatenation.
Nicholas, mechanically striking the padded pole over and over, was in shock. He could not quite believe it was happening. Getsumei no michi gone. His mind no longer part of the benevolent Void, emptied in order to absorb fully each clear thought, but rather a babble of mutually antagonistic currents, each seeking its own independent end.
And that was how Justine found him, collapsed on to the tatami mats, his chin lolling on his sweat-streaked chest.
He heard her enter, heard her little gasp of horror and, lifting his head, he saw the look of pity in her eyes, and could not bear it.
'Get out!' he shouted. And, because he had unconsciously used kiai, the samurai's war shout, Justine felt as if she had been physically assaulted. She recoiled, reeling in bewilderment. 'Get the hell away from me!'
When Tomi Yazawa shut the door to Commander Omukae's office behind her, she was trembling. She stood still for one long moment, composing herself. The realization that she had revealed to a man she did not know well, more than she had revealed to anyone else in the world, shocked her. More, it shamed her. No matter that Senjin Omukae had given her permission to speak; she should have kept her mouth shut. Why, then, had she spoken? And why had she spoken the truth instead of a well-crafted, face-saving lie?
Tomi did not know, but she suspected that her weakness of resolve had had something to do with Commander Omukae's beautiful face. She shuddered as she recalled the moment when he had stood up, moving into her line of sight. She knew then that he had trapped her as surely
as if he were a hunter with a snare. She had had no recourse but to look directly into his face for the whole of the interview.
The experience had been terrifying. She had
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