el.the miko-第100部分

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one　unfamiliar　with　a　sumo's　strength　would　have　done；　at　his　vast　stomach。
　Koten　was　incredibly　quick　and　he　almost　regained　the　angle　he　needed　to　deflect　Nicholas'　strike。　But　not　quite。　As　it　was；　he　saved　himself　from　a　pair　of　broken　joints；　moving　slightly　into　the　line　of　attack　and　thus　canceling　a　measure　of　its　force。　He　went　down　anyway。
　Nicholas　was　aware　of　Protorov　shouting　orders；　the　doctor　retreating　past　the　fringes　of　the　melee；　two　younger　soldiers　moving　in。　He　was　certain　that　he　could　handle　them　all。　Yet　some　unbalanced　equation　stirred　the　periphery　of　his　mind。　He　was　busy　with　Koten　and　most　of　his　consciousness　was　taken　up　with　constantly　shifting　stratagems　against　four　enemies。
　Four！
　It　was　his　last　coherent　thought　before　Russilov　plunged　the　six…inch　needle　into　the　meaty　part　of　his　upper　arm。　Too　late；　he　lashed　out。　Five　black　spots　swirled　before　his　eyes；　he　saw　five　of　each　individual；　closing　in　on　him；　felt　Koten's　blow　on　the　side　of　his　head　five　times。
　The　five　spots　expanded　into　five　black　wells　down　which　he　plummeted。　From　a　long　way　off　echoes　came　to　him；　words　without　meaning；　questions　without　answers。　Then　the　powerful　drug　hit　his　cortex　and　he　passed　into　unconsciousness。
　〃Good　work；〃　Protorov　said　to　Russilov。　〃You　see；　Doctor；〃　he　went　on；　〃contrary　to　what　your　book　may　tell　you；　we　are　not　dealing　with　an　ordinary　human　being。　This　man　could　reach　out　with　one　finger　and　destroy　you。〃
　The　doctor　said　nothing；　he　was　quietly　shaking；　thinking；　1　do　not　understand　this　at　all。　He　should　have　been　unconscious　long　before　this。　〃Perhaps　he　is　faking　yet　again。〃
　Protorov　snorted。　〃I　think　not。　He　has　no　power　to　counter　injections　into　his　bloodstream。〃
　He　nodded　toward　the　wooden　scaffolding　set　against　part　of　the　back　wall。　〃All　right；　Koten；〃　he　said　softly。　〃String　him　up。〃
　You　must　return　to　the　source。。　。his　source。　Masashigi　Ku…sunoki's　words　rose　up　from　her　unconscious；　penetrating　the　dialogue　between　Sato　and　Phoenix。　Akiko　had　played　and　replayed　that　section　of　tape　as　if　this　might　give　her　some　further　insight；　turning　an　artifact　over　and　over　again　in　a　vain　attempt　to　divine　its　secret。
　She　sat　in　Koten's　room；　her　forehead　against　her　drawn…up　knees；　her　arms　girdling　her　shins。　She　was　naked；　and　in　the　lamplight　her　skin　gleamed　as　if　oiled。　Shadows　rilled　her　even　as　light　revealed　her。　Hidden　and　open；　she　was　a　physical　paradigm　of　the　riddle　inside　herself。
　The　people　who　sent　him；　who　trained　him　represent　a　very　great　threat　to　Japan。　Masashigi…san's　words。
　Masashigi。　What　had　possessed　her　to　go　to　the　Gyokku　ryu　in　the　first　place？　She　did　not　know　or　could　not　recall。　She　remembered　the　first　moment　she　had　seen　Masashigi　Kusunoki；　though。　It　was　as　if　she　had　found　a　connection　with　her　past…　some　past。　As　she　belonged　with　Saigo　in　her　private　life；　so　she
　T
　seemed　to　belong　with　Masashigi　in　her　martial　one。　She　had　been　married　to　Saigo　for　three　weeks；　gone　from　Kyoki's　castle　for　six。
　The　Gyokku　was　where　Masashigi…san　had　made　his　first　stand　for　her。　Together　they　had　left　when　the　other　sennin　of　the　ryu　rose　up　and　dissented；　they　would　not　allow　her…a　woman…to　stay。
　Together　they　had　gone　to　the　Tenshin　Shoden　Katori　in　Yo…shino。
　Why　had　he　done　this　for　her？　What　was　it　that　the　sensei　had　seen　in　her？　What　made　her　so　special？　And　how　wrong　he　had　been！　All　his　loyalty　had　brought　him　was　death；　death　by　the　hands　of　the　one　he　had　defended。
　Akiko　remembered　the　smile　that　wreathed　his　face　like　lilies　at　the　moment　he　passed　from　life　into　death。　Why？　Why　would　anyone　smile　at　that　instant？　Sadness　had　no　place　in　Masashigi…san's　life。　He　was　attuned　to　the　universe；　at　peace　with　himself　and　the　cosmos。　He　could　not　have　weled　death。　He　was；　at　least　in　Akiko's　mind；　somewhat　of　a　holy　man。　That　was　another　reason　why　she　had　chosen　him　as　her　first　victim。　If　the　masking　of　her　wa　that　Kyoki　had　taught　her　would　work　with　such　a　one；　it　would　work　on　anyone。
　There　was　something　in　the　air…a　spice　perhaps…that　Akiko　could　not　define。　Her　head　came　up　and　she　looked　around　as　if　she　suspected　that　she　was　not　alone。　For　a　moment　the　air　shimmered　before　a　half…open/kywma。　Papers　stirred　on　the　desk　farther　into　the　room。　But　it　was　only　the　wind；　wasn't　it？
　Akiko　shivered　slightly。　Why　was　she　dredging　all　this　up　now？　The　people　who　sent　him；　who　trained　him　represent　a　great　threat　to　Japan。　Masashigi…san　had　been　speaking　of　the　muhon…nin　Tsuts…umu。　She　herself　had　slain　the　second　muhon…nin；　Tengu；　returning　that　which　he　had　stolen　to　the　ryu。
　Now　she　knew　that　there　had　been　a　third　traitor　within　the　Tenshin　Shoden　Katori。　Masashigi　Kusunoki　rose　up　like　a　specter　before　her　and　bade　her　do　what　he　had　trained　her　to　do；　to　fulfill　the　promise　he　alone　had　seen　in　her。　She　thought　of　Sato；　Phoenix；　and　Nicholas　in　the　north；　in　Hokkaido。　Especially　Nicholas。
　She　rose　and　went　into　the　bedroom。　From　the　bottom　of　a　low　drawer　where　Sato　would　never　look　she　drew　out　a　kimono；　light　gray　on　dark　gray。　The　top　half　of　one　side　was　stained　a　dark　brown　where　some　of　the　sensei's　fountaining　blood　had　spattered。
　Slowly；　reverently；　she　drew　it　on。　Within　moments　she　was　ready。　She　headed　north。
　When　Nicholas　awoke；　he　found　himself　on　a　wheel。　He　rose　out　of　unconsciousness　rapidly　but　did　not　open　his　eyes；　change　his　breathing　pattern；　or　in　any　other　way　give　those　who　he　assumed　to　be　in　the　vault　with　him　any　indication　that　he　was　now　conscious。
　Whatever　they　had　pumped　him　with　was　very　powerful　for　its　effects　were　not　yet　gone。　His　head　felt　light；　he　felt　a　touch　of　vertigo；　he　was　not　at　all　sure　that　he　could　fully　trust　his　senses。　Still；　logic　dictated　that　he　attempt　to　assess　his　current　situation。
　He　was　bound　by　fingers；　wrists；　waist；　thighs；　and　ankles　with　leather　straps。　He　was　suspended　off　the　floor。　He　recalled　the　dim　outline　of　the　scaffolding。
　But　what　worried　him　most　was　Protorov。　He　was　smart　enough　to　understand　what　kind　of　creature　Nicholas　was。　He　alone　among　the　Russians　had　suspected　that　Nicholas'　training　would　keep　him　from　succumbing　to　the　ambient　gas。　He　had　set　Nicholas　up　superbly；　distracting　him　with　Koten…the　obvious　main　threat…while　he　kept　within　Nicholas'　sight。　Only　the　young　officer　who　had　been　in　charge　of　the　rotenburo；　Russilov；　had　been　missing。　Not　missing　but　behind　Nicholas。　And　no　time　for　even　haragei　to　work。　The　stress　factor　had　been　too　high。　Nicholas　reflected　that　perhaps　he　was　getting　too　old　for　this。　He　should　have　felt　Russilov's　presence。　He　had　underestimated　the　Soviets…Protorov　in　particular…and　had　paid　the　price。
　Opened　his　eyes。
　〃Ah；〃　Viktor　Protorov　said　amiably；　〃did　you　enjoy　your　rest？〃
　How　does　he　know　so　much　about　me？　Nicholas　asked　himself　as　he　tried　to　flex　his　fingers。　The　straps　would　not　allow　it。　Interesting；　Nicholas　thought。　He　had　this　ready　for　me；　surely　this　would　be　unnecessary　for　a　prisoner　without　my　skills。
　Nicholas　was　aware　of　how　many　people　were　in　the　room…two　besides　himself　and　Protorov：　Russilov　and　the　doctor…as　well　as　where　they　were。　Russilov　stood　just　behind　and　to　the　right　of　his　directorate　chief；　the　doctor　was　near　Nicholas'　left　shoulder；　a　hypodermic　and　medical　kit　on　a　stool　beside　him。
　Protorov　was　not　interested　in　a　reply。　Instead；　he　unfolded　a　long　sheaf　of　puter　printout　which　then　trailed　down　behind　him　like　a　tail。　He　held　one　page　up　in　front　of　Nicholas'　face。　Nicholas　stared　at　the　markings；　trying　to　focus　his　brain。　He　thought　he　had　seen　something　quite　like　this　in　several　magazines　such　as　Scientific　American　and　Smithsonian；　detailing　passes　of　various　NASA　satellites　across　the　face　of　the　Earth。
　〃Does　this　area　appear　familiar　to　you；　Gospadin　Linnear？〃　So
　far　Protorov　had　used　nothing　but　Russian　with　him。　〃It　should。　It　is　the　northern　half　of　Honshu；　the　whole　of　Hokkaido；　the　Nemuro　Straits；　the　southerly　end　of　the　Kuriles。〃
　Protorov　had　not　taken　his　eyes　off　Nicholas。　〃Here；〃　he　said；　stabbing　at　one　of　several　red…marked　spots；　〃offshore；　is　a　crack　between　two　geological　plates。　Here　and　here；　on　Honshu　itself；　are　where　earthquakes　of　sizable　magnitude…over　seven　points　on　the　Richter　Scale…will　occur　within　the　next　week。　Already　an　onset　trembler　has　been　felt　here；　just　to　the　northwest　of　Tokyo。〃
　Protorov　snapped　his　fingers　and　Russilov；　like　a　prestidigitator's　assistant；　replaced　the　exhibited　item。　In　this　frame　the　magnitude　had　been　increased　so　that　a　detailed　section　of　the　topography　from　the　first　page　was　reproduced。
　〃Now　here；〃　Protorov　continued；　pointing　again；　〃is　another　hot　spot。　But　lo　and　behold；　it　is　not　at　any　previously　known　geological　fault。　Rather　it　is　at　a　precise　spot　where　nothing　had　shown　before。　There　is　no　natural　reason　for　its　existence。〃
　The　paper　rustled　like　anxious　insects。　〃What　do　you　make　of　that；　Gospadin　Linnear？〃
　〃What　the　hell　am　I　looking　at；　anyway？〃
　Protorov　clucked　his　tongue　against　the　roof　of　his　mouth。　〃Now　that　would　be　telling。〃
　During　his　adolescence　Nicholas　could　recall　coining　in　contact　with　a　number　of　Japanese　nuns。　To　him　the　sight　had　been　incongruous。　The　Japanese　spirit　had　e　to　be　synonymous　with　acquiescing　to　nature；　the　elements　of　the　cosmos。　To　him；　Christianity　preached　a　divine　order　that　had　been　meted　out　by　man　himself；　though　its　adherents　professed　otherwise。　The　history　of　the　Roman　Catholic　Church　was　a　bloodstained　banner　lifted　to　the　concept　of　domination。
　All　Catholics；　he　had　found；　were　arrogant；　and　none　more　so　than　nuns　or　priests。　It　was　their　utter　faith　in　a　narrow　spectrum　morality　that　took　into　account　absolutely　no　natural　factors。　Man's　nature　as　well　as　that　of　his　environment　held　no　interest　for　the　Church's　hierarchy。　Their　moral　rectitude　rendered　them　deaf；　dumb；　and　blind。
　It　occurred　to　Nicholas　now　that；　though　he　might　howl　in　rage　at　the　parison；　Viktor　Protorov　possessed　those　same　hideous　qualities　espoused　so　righteously　by　the　Church。　He　was　not　so　far　from　priestly；　though　in　a　manner　he　could　never　prehend；　munism　was　as　blind　in　its　mor