The Nicholas Linnear Novels (159 page)

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Authors: Eric Van Lustbader

BOOK: The Nicholas Linnear Novels
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“Eventually, yes. We both felt that you and he were to be the final targets.”

“Had you any proof?”

“It was Sato-san’s belief that something in your past had triggered this vendetta.” When Nangi said nothing, Nicholas went on. “I swore to protect him, Nangi-san. It is why I went with him to the
rotenburo
in Hokkaido to find the ninja Phoenix. But Koten betrayed us to the Russians. They killed the ninja; and they killed Sato-san.” He went on to relate what had happened next at Protorov’s safe house. He said nothing of what had happened after his winged escape.

“Phoenix was from the Tenshin Shoden Katori.” Nangi’s voice was deliberately calm. “Was anything put into the Soviets’ hands?”

“For a moment they had it. But they had no one to translate the
kanji
cipher.”

“I see.” The relief flooding out of Nangi was palpable.

“I read the document, Nangi-san. I have penetrated to the core of
Tenchi.

There was no sound in the room now but that of the flowing water, unseen and constant.

Nangi’s eyes closed finally. He felt enormously tired, like a long-distance runner who had just expended his last ounce of gallant reserves to embrace the finish line only to be told that the course has been extended another mile.

His dark, avian eyes opened and in a voice like tissue paper he said, “And now that you have the leverage you need, what will you do with this information if I do not accede to your demands regarding the terms of the merger?”

“I have had a call from a man named C. Gordon Minck, Nangi-san. He is in the United States Government. I know him somewhat. I have run a certain errand for him…because it suited my purposes. Because I wished to save
Tenchi
.”

Nangi nodded. “Save it from the Russians. I understand. You are an American citizen. And now the American secret service establishment knows our deep secret. They can keep us under their thumb forever.”

“Nangi-san,” Nicholas said softly, “I told Minck that the Soviets had not penetrated
Tenchi
and neither had I. Sato-san once told me that he feared the Americans penetrating
Tenchi
almost as much as the Russians. I did not understand what he meant then, but I know now. America would not wish for Japan to become independent of it. I agree with him.”

For Nangi, Nicholas could not have uttered more startling words. “But this is impossible,” he said, for once flustered. “You are an American. You are—”


Iteki?
Isn’t that how you’ve seen me from the first, Nangi-san? As a barbarian, a half-breed.”

Nangi’s eyes lowered to the tabletop, but all he saw there was his own reflection. I hate this man, he thought, and I don’t know why. He has suffered for this
keiretsu
, has kept its secrets, has almost died for it. He is loyal beyond question. He tried to save Seiichi-san’s life. At the thought of his dead friend, a knife went through Nangi’s insides and he was shaken anew by his rage against this man. Yet he struggled with himself to understand.

“My spirit is Japanese,” Nicholas said softly. “You have only to feel my
wa
to know that. It was not so hard for Sato-san to accept me; to befriend me.”

“Sato-san possessed a number of bad habits,” Nangi snapped. Immediately, he bowed his head all the way to the lacquer. He was terribly ashamed. “Forgive me, Linnear-san.” His voice was a cracked whisper, filled with pain and self-loathing. “You deserve only my abject gratitude for what you have done to protect my
keiretsu
and preserve
Tenchi.

“I am truly sorry that you cannot give it.” Nicholas’ face was sad as he rose. “The pledge of merger was with Sato-san. I will not insist that you be bound by it.”

“Linnear-san.” Nangi’s back was rigid. “Please sit down.” And, when Nicholas made no move, “I beg of you. Do not add to the disgrace I have already heaped upon myself. If you walk out now, I can never regain face.”

Nicholas folded his legs beneath him. “I have no wish to disgrace you,” he said softly, remembering all Sato had told him of this man.

“Whatever accord you had with Seiichi-san you have with me. We are one and the same entity. I wish to honor his word.” He passed a hand across his eyes. “I was brought up with
kanryōdō.
I hated foreigners as if they were a disease.”

“Some—perhaps most—are like that,” Nicholas said.

Nangi looked at him curiously. “In truth, I think I never bothered to understand you. I saw what I wanted to see.” His eyes slid down again. “And I resented you your easy rapport with my friend.”

“He could love you no less for it. But that is obvious.” Nicholas raised his cup. “If you wish, we will light incense on Seiichi-san’s grave together.”

“Yes,” Nangi said, and he was no longer ashamed to drape his voice in sadness. His good eye was moist. He raised his glass. “To departed friends, missed and honored for all the days of our lives.”

They drank.

“Now what of the
Wu-Shing
?” Nangi asked.

“The threat of the
Wu-Shing
is gone. You have nothing more to fear from that quarter. Vice-Minister Shimada’s daughter has been silenced; she has been taken by the earth. Her revenge is incomplete.”

Nangi’s face seemed to collapse. His voice was a whisper. “Shimada-san had a daughter? I know only of his two sons, who were killed overseas in a plane crash. A
daughter
?”

“By a
tayu oiran
of the
Yoshiwara
.”

“Oh, my God!” A tic had begun beneath Nangi’s good eye. “I recall some information I amassed on him. There
was
mention of a courtesan mistress. But that she bore him a child!”

“It gets worse, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Shimada-san’s daughter was Akiko Ofuda Sato.”

“Oh, Madonna, no! It’s impossible.” He wiped the sweat off his face. “Did Seiichi-san know?”

“No.”

“Thank God for that small blessing. She must have planned it all—the courtship, the wedding. How Seiichi-san loved her!” He watched his hands shake, fascinated that he had lost this much control. He looked up. “She’s gone, you say?”

Nicholas nodded. “Swallowed up in the recent earthquake.”

“She could have destroyed everything.
Everything!

“It was close,” Nicholas acknowledged.

“The Russians and the Americans aren’t the only ones interested in
Tenchi
,” Nangi said after a moment. “Now that we are partners, I have an obligation to tell you why I went to Hong Kong. I deliberately did not speak of it to Seiichi before I left because I had no way of knowing the outcome in advance and I did not want him to worry.”

Nicholas listened with growing interest to Nangi’s tale of intrigue.

“But I won everything,” Nangi concluded.

Nicholas was silent for a time, digesting all that he had heard. “I wonder,” he said at last.

“What do you mean, Linnear-san?”

“Would Lo Whan have any reason to lie to you about his motives?”

Nangi shook his head. “No. It cost him too much face. He was begging me for
Tenchi
’s secret.”

“I think we should give it to him.”

“What?” Nangi exploded. “After all you’ve said? You must be mad!”

“Oh, I don’t mean right away. Within thirty days
Tenchi
will be under way, the oil will be flowing; nothing can stop us then. Tell Lo Whan that he will have what he wants within a month’s time.”

“But that’s treason! The Communists—”

“Would you rather have the Russians link arms with China? What kind of position do you think that would put Japan in? I don’t think even America’s might could save us then.” He spread his hands. “Don’t you see, Nangi-san? By providing this faction with a unique kind of ammunition, you will ensure that Russia and China stand apart,
and
you will gain an incredibly direct foothold into Peking, the Forbidden City. Lo Whan’s faction will owe us much. And in time they will have to repay that debt. The price will be up to us to negotiate.”

“But they are
Chinese
,” Nangi protested. “They are Communists.”

“They’re also Asian.”

Nicholas turned and brought up the silk-covered package. This he put on the table. “This is for you,” he said. “In light of this discussion I think it doubly apt.”

Nangi’s good eye opened wide and again he bowed until his gleaming forehead touched the black tabletop.

Carefully he opened the wrapping. An oiled boxwood container was underneath. He lifted the lid and peered inside. Age seemed to dissolve off his face. With great tenderness, he reached inside and took out the two cups. They were of the most exquisite translucent porcelain.

“T’ang Dynasty,” he breathed. He watched the light enter them, thinking of Obā-chama. “
Domo arigato
, Linnear-san.” It would have been unseemly to have said more.

He looked at his new partner, and perhaps, as he was learning, his friend. “I will consider your suggestion.” There was the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I for one would welcome constructive talks leading to an Oriental Alliance.”

Slowly, like the cool tendrils of the sea, Nangi felt a return of a certain centrism he had possessed all his life but which had been ripped from him by the news of Seiichi’s death. Without thinking, he hugged this core of comfort about him like a robe around a blue-lipped bather. It took him a while to reach the conclusion that this miracle of sorts had come about because he had allowed himself to trust another spirit. Gōtarō, Obā-chama, Makita, Seiichi. And now Nicholas Linnear. With a sharp pang of excitement, he felt the rhythm start up inside him again, a powerful engine roaring in his ears.

When, sometime later, he was about to leave and they were standing side by side at the door, Nicholas said, “This
kobun
no longer manufactures petrochemicals, does it, Nangi-san?”

Nangi laughed. “Ah, Linnear-san, I believe I am going to enjoy our partnership immensely! If only you were going to stay here instead of returning to America. It is here that you belong, truly. Japan is your home, eh. But I tell you nothing that you do not already know in your heart.”

He smiled again. “But to give you an answer: no. Sato Petrochemicals was what it was when Seiichi-san began this
kobun.
But after the oil shock of 1973, he perceived that petrochemicals would rapidly become a declining industry in this country.

“The government, in the form of MITI, stepped in. That was me, of course, since I was still vice-minister of the ministry. Before Fujitsu, Matsushita, NEC, and the rest got into artificial intelligence and robotics, Seiichi-san and I spoke of such futuristic concerns.

“Slowly, so as not to bring any attention to our movements, we began to shift goals and priorities from past industry into future ones. We kept the old name as camouflage. And when, years later, the government began the
Tenchi
project, we were in a unique position to help them.”

He opened the door. “You must come up to Misawa one day and see
Tenchi
herself. You’ve earned the right.”

Nicholas found Justine on the fiftieth floor, near the pool where Miss Yoshida had been killed. She had not been told of Nicholas’ arrival.

He stopped still when he saw her tan face, his heart fluttering. And he thought, Yukio belongs to my past. Here is my future. “You look well.”

“Nick!” She whirled. “My God, I didn’t hear you come in!”

He laughed. “You should be used to that by now.” He came toward her, his face sobering. “Listen, Justine, there’s something I have to tell you.”

But she put the flat of her hand against his lips. “No, Nick, please. I’ve come thirteen thousand miles to tell you I love you. I acted like a spoiled little girl. I took out on you an anger that I felt at myself. That wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and just because I was hurt myself that was no good excuse.”

He took her hand away, held it. “Justine—”

“Whatever you have to tell me doesn’t matter anymore. Don’t you see, there’s nothing you could possibly say that could change the way I feel for you. Nothing could diminish my love. So why say it?”

He saw that she was right, after all. He had wanted to tell her about Akiko, about Yukio. He recalled vividly her phone call to him just after Sato’s marriage. How wrapped up in his past he had been then! How impossible it had been for him to connect with her. He was sorry for that as well, but he thought that she already knew it.

He drew her into his arms, and she became aware of his maimed right hand.

“What have you been doing?” she said, taking it in both of hers.

He tried to joke. “Made a grab for another woman. She was a black belt in karate.”

She looked up at him. “Really,” she breathed.

“I stuck my nose in something and got someone mad. Really.”

“Will you ever tell me all of it?”

“Justine,” he said softly, his face in her hair. “It’s not so very important.”

She was weeping. “It caused you pain. It’s important to me.”

He stroked her hair, his eyes closed. “There’s no pain now. It’s all over.”

Together their lips opened, their tongues met, tasting. They felt the heat, passion rising, a cloud of heavy emotion enveloping them.

“Oh, Nick,” she murmured. “I’m so happy.” She was thinking of the couple on the crest of Haleakala crater. Now I have what they have, she thought, contentedly.

Slowly, gently, they began to reexplore each other, both physically and emotionally, two blind people who had suddenly regained their sight. They kissed as teenagers often do, as if this intimacy was the ultimate one, full of emotional complexities and tiny pleasures evolving into a shimmering network of eroticism. The kiss was representative of more than mere lust. Justine had always felt that one gave one’s heart in a kiss. The same could not be said for the sex act itself. It was quite possible to penetrate and be penetrated without kissing at all.

Love was waiting on his lips, in the flick of his hot tongue against the inside of her mouth. How long had she waited for this moment? She would never know for certain but she suspected that it had been all her life. She felt alive and free at the same time. The combination was an entirely new sensation for her.

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