# Последний самурай сканы 2

Лев Переводчик Шкловский

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"I don't even know what it is. "

"He said it was the key to your scrambler code.

I looked at it more carefully. It was definitely a

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circuit of some kind, although you'd need a lab to tell

you what it would be used for. According to her, this

little hunk of plastic was capable of analyzing a voice

print, assigning each point of it a numerical value, then

scrambling the values according to the AXE code. It

seemed like a tall order for something so small.

She must have guessed what I was thinking. "Don 't

discount little things, " she said. "Sometimes it's the

little things that are most important. "

I sat down on the bed and pulled the phone over. "l

have to make a call," I said, dialing with one hand

while I held the gun on her with the other. Mattingly

answered on the second ring.

'*Our mysterious Lady of the Orient has put in a

reappearance," I said.

"I see. "

He hung up and I put the phone back on the table.

"Now, let me get this straight, " I said, turning back

to her. "Your brother. What's his name?"

"Yoshitsune. '

"Yoshitsune Minamoto. Where've I heard that be-

fore?"

s 'In Japan he is considered a genius."

'SSure. Yoshitsune Minamoto, the computer genius.

He's one of the men responsible for developing the

micro-processing circuit to begin with. "

' 'A mad genius, I'm afraid, Nick. "

' 'That so? ' ' I rolled the computer chip back and forth

between my fingers, thinking. ' 'What's he look like,

this brother of yours?"

"He's smaller than you, broad shoulders .

"Is he bald?"

"Yes. "

"With lumps of scar tissue where his temples should

be?"

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NICK CARTER

g 'My brother has done extensive experimentation in

electrode implantation. Unfonunately, his own brain


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this brother of yours?"

"He's smaller than you, broad shoulders .

"Is he bald?"

"Yes. "

"With lumps of scar tissue where his temples should

be?"

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NICK CARTER

g 'My brother has done extensive experimentation in

electrode implantation. Unfonunately, his own brain

was the only safe ground he could experiment on. "

"Does he like to gamble?"

"Yes. He has a passion for it. He's made a great deal

of money gambling. Nick, I can understan you have to

ask me these questions, but can't you see how difficult

it is for me?" Her eyelids beat back tears.

"What makes you say hess mad?"

don 't know. He's changed. I hardly know him any

more. When we were growing up. he was always so

•nd, so protective of me. He believed in the old

samurai traditions. Then I went away to school in San

rancisco and when I came back, he wouldn "t even talk

o me. It was as though I'd deserted him. "

"Is that what made him mad?"

'I don 't know what made him mad, but when I came

omc, he'd changed. He said the West made him sick,

at Western culture had Japan of everything

at had made her great. It was crazy to listen to him,

e'd get started and go on about it for hours. It got to

e point where I was afraid to say anything to him at all

or fear he'd launch into another of his tirades.

"And his work .

He loved electronics. He used

o sit me down and tell me of all the wonderful things it

as possible to do, all the marvels he could create for

nkind. I'd watch his face when he talked like that

d it always excited me. He made it all sound so

onvincing .

"But then that changed," I said.

"Yes. Shortly after I returned from the States he

ttended an international exposition in micro-electron-

cs. He read a paper in front of the reviewing commit-

, stating publicly that the U.S. was responsible for

ost of the problems in Japan—our rising inflation

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ems In apan—our nslng Inflation

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rate, the softness of our youth, the drugs that infest our

culture, the erosion of our old, better way of life. The

paper was denounced as false and misleading, but there

were a few who agreed with my brother.

' 'He went on to read other papers and to publish

articles—all with the same anti-American theme. He

tmame something of an embarrassment to his col-

leagues, I think. His work was discredited, even the

originality of some of his inventions was questioned.

"Eventually, he became bitter, and instead of a pas-

sion, his work tEcame an obsession. He became deter-

mined to show the world he was right. He started doing

wild, dangerous things, like the electrodes he put in his

brain. After a while, even his close friends deserted

him. Now I 'm the only one left who will go near him. "

She was crying when she finished. Not out loud, but,

her small shoulders were shaking with sobs. I put

Wilhelmina down on the and waited for her to

continue.

' 'I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes, pulling

herself erect in the chair and daintily blowing her nose.

"It's just that these last few months have been such a

trial for both of us, my brother and me. He doesn 't want

to do the things he's doings Nick. He's struggling to

hold on to his sanity. "

"I believe you," I said. I took a pack of my special

brand of cigarettes from the night table and offered her

one. She took it. I lit it with my lighter, then went back

and sat on the bed while she tossed her mane of black

hair and blew out a hamed-looking jet of smoke.

"How did AXE get involved in all this? And why

me?" I asked.

SSA while ago my brother trcame interested in

codes. He thought it might be a good way to harass the

Americans. Then he started to amass a great deal of

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money by gambling. He has a system that can't fail.

And with the money and what he'd learned about en-

coding procedures, he hit on another plan. "

' 'What was that?"

' 'I don't know. He wouldn't discuss it with me.


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me.

SSA while ago my brother trcame interested in

codes. He thought it might be a good way to harass the

Americans. Then he started to amass a great deal of

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NICK CARTER

money by gambling. He has a system that can't fail.

And with the money and what he'd learned about en-

coding procedures, he hit on another plan. "

' 'What was that?"

' 'I don't know. He wouldn't discuss it with me.

About a year ago he started working in secret. Since

then I 've only seen him intermittently. Once when he

asked me to go to Arizona and join the AXE staff, and

when he gave me the chip to bring here. "

There was a knock at the door and I got up and

opened it. It was Mattingly, who came in wide-eyed,

taking everything in at a glance.

"She's all right," I told him. "It's her brother we

have to worry about."

He nodded, still looking at her. "What's your

name?" he asked abruptly.

"Gigi. "

"Gigi, you mustn't leave in such a hurry next time.

You tend to make people suspicious. Especially, when

you forget your coat. " He picked the Stole off the arm

of the easy chair and handed it to her.

'Thank you, " she said coldly. She took the fur and

wrapped it around her, then to me she said, "I wouldn't

want to lose it. It was a gift from Yoshitsune."

"That would be the brother," said Mattingly.

"That's right," I said.

Mattingly pulled up the easy chair so that we were all

sitting in a tight three-sided circle. 'So, now that every-

thing 's out in the open and we 're all such good friends,

maybe somebody would like to tell me what this is all

about. s'

I quickly explained to him what Gigi had told me

about her brother and the challenge he 'd sent along with

the computer chip,

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When I 'd finished, Mattingly said, ' 'So that's it. He

wan

fight you. That's patently absurd. "


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thing 's out in the open and we 're all such good friends,

maybe somebody would like to tell me what this is all

about. s'

I quickly explained to him what Gigi had told me

about her brother and the challenge he 'd sent along with

the computer chip,

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When I 'd finished, Mattingly said, ' 'So that's it. He

wants to fight you. That's patently absurd. "

"Why?"

"Why? Nick, old boy, you're not actually consider-

ing it?"

haven't decided. Why?"

"It's obviously a trap, and not particularly well-

baited at that. We don't need this chip or whatever's

emtrdded in this man's chest. The code's been de-

ciphered. The entire system will have to be scrapped

anyway. "

"Wouldn't you like to know how it was done?"

"Not at the risk of my life. Or yours."

W 'Nick, both of you, please," Gigi interjected.

"You're forgetting my brother is not a well man. He

should be subdued without violence and taken some-

where he can get the rest and care he needs. "

"Madam, excuse me." said Mattingly, turning on

her, ' 'but there is more at stake here than one man's

sanity. "

"All right, you two," I said. "John, maybe we

should discuss this in private. I stood up and put

Wilhelmina in her holster and stuffed the holster in my

robe. Then I surveyed the room, trying to decide if it

was all right to leave Gigi in here alone. "This won't

take long, " I told her. Then I motioned to Mattingly

and we adjourned to the balcony.

I closed the glass doors behind us, but didn't lock

them. He stood facing me with his back to the railing.

"Keep an eye on her while we talk," I said.

"I thought you Ousted her."

"I don't uust anyone, not even you. Now tell me.

why are you opposed to this?"

"You're going to go, aren't you?"


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"Yes. "

NICK CARTER

I

*'It's crazy. The man is a maniac and this time you

might not be so lucky. I •m telling you it's a trap, "

"Look, let me tell you something. I 'm going to fight

this man just the way he wants me to for two very good

reasons. First. that chip may be valuable. I don 't know.

You don't know. I'm not a data-systems expert and

neither are you.

"Seconds Gigi's right. The man has to be stopped.

There's no telling how much he's found out. Besides

that, he's a homocidal maniac. This time he 's managed

to narrow his hatred to me alone. Next time the rest of

the world might not be so lucky. "

"l guess you 're right, he conceded.

Mattingly and I had been looking directly at one

another for several minutes. Finally, he glanced over

my shoulder. "She's gone," he said.


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Ten

Mattingly was the first one back in the room. There

was no sign of her. He checked the bathroom while I

searched the hall in both directions.

S 'Ihat was stupid," I said when I came back in,

referring to the fact I'd left her alone. ' 'Still, I can't

imagine why she'd leave. "

' 'You don 't know? I would say the lady is quite taken

with you. " Mattingly picked up a manila card that had

been left on the coffee table and handed it to me.

Written in a flowing hand was an address: 30 Rue de la

Mer, number 14.

g 'Think this is a trap, too?" I asked, needling him a

little.

' 'It wouldn 't matter if it were. It doesn 't do any good

to warn you. "

"l '11 have to look into it, " I said, putting the card in

the pocket of my robe.

"Yes, I'm sure you will. " From his tone it was clear

he wasn't happy with this turn of events. He cleared his

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NICK CARTER

throat as a signal that he would be going. "I'll

leaving now. You •re going through with this then?" hev

asked in reference to the fight with Minamoto.

"Yes. "

"Very well. If I don't hear from you in thirty-six!

hours, I'll inform Washington. 't

'Right. i"

He walked to the door and turned around. "Good

luck," he said. Then he opened it and left.

I locked the door behind him, took off my robe and

started to dress. I strapped Wilhelmina into her familiar

spot under my arm and tightened the buckles on Hugo '

chamois case. I flexed my arm to make sure he was

secure, then I grabbed my cashmere jacket and left.

Thirty Rue de Ia Mer was only a shon cab ride away

a Spanish style oblong apartment building right in the

center of town. By the time I got there it was after te

o'clock. I paid the driver and started up the shrubbery

lined sidewalk to the front door,

Around me the Monacan night-life hummed

Couples ambled aimlessly up and down the boulevard

The air was damp and smelled faintly of salt. I realized

that although I 'd been in town over twenty-four hours;

this was the first time I'd been out in the city and it all

seemed a trifle disorienting.

I opened the door to the front vestibule, went in, and

pushed the button for number fourteen.

' 'Who is it?" asked a tiny voice over the intercom.

'*Nick.

The door buzzed and I went up. Gigi answered when

I knocked on her door, wearing a kimono. She didn't

say anything. I came in and she bustled past me into the

kitchen. She had pinned her hair on the top of her head

and from the back you could see the soft, luxuriant

black shadow at the nape of her neck.

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While she was gone, I took a quick look around. It

was a modest apartment, although in Monte Carlo even

a lean-to is expensive. The furniture had come with the

place, the kind that usually does, but she'd added a

touch here and there to make it seem more like home. A

scroll painting hung on one wall and there was a spare


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and from the back you could see the soft, luxuriant

black shadow at the nape of her neck.

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While she was gone, I took a quick look around. It

was a modest apartment, although in Monte Carlo even

a lean-to is expensive. The furniture had come with the

place, the kind that usually does, but she'd added a

touch here and there to make it seem more like home. A

scroll painting hung on one wall and there was a spare

Japanese flower arrangement in a rectangular in the

comer.

In the center of the room the furniture had

pushed back and a low, black-lacquered wood table

was surrounded by cushions for kneeling. On the table

was a tea service for two.

She came into the room carrying a small tray with a

fragile-looking white stoneware on it. "Please

sit down," she said.

I remembered my manners and slipped off my shoes.

Then I kneeled at the table and waited while she poured

the tea. I knew from previous a-ips to Japan what a great

deal of importance they placed on the ceremony of

drinking tea. To the Japanese it is more than a polite

conversational gesture; it is a sacred ritual, a rite that if

performed correctly can heal the wounds be-

tween two Frople.

She poured tea into two tiny cups and handed one to

me.

"These are very beautiful cups, " I said, remember-

ing it always polite to praise the china.

g 'They are very old. ney have been in my family

over four hundred years. "

We drank. When we put down our cups, I opened

witha m.lmp. S' You left my room in a hell ofahurry this

evening. We were a little surprised to find you gone. "

"lt was that man."

"Mattingly?"

"I don't think he intended to help my brother."

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NICK CARTER

S 'Perhaps not, but he's not a bad man really; he's just

suspicious for obvious reasons. "


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We drank. en we put own our cups,

witha m.lmp. S' You left my room in a hell ofahurry this

evening. We were a little surprised to find you gone. "

"lt was that man."

"Mattingly?"

"I don't think he intended to help my brother."

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NICK CARTER

S 'Perhaps not, but he's not a bad man really; he's just

suspicious for obvious reasons. "

She didn't answer.

I rolled my tea cup back and forth on the table in front

of me, absently staring at the pattern of tea leaves

strewn on the bottom. don •t know if I can help your

brother either, " I said. "If it comes down to it, I may

have to kill him. "

What I said hung in the air like a stale odor. It took a

long time for her to speak. For several seconds she

stared into a corner of the room, then said, "If it has to

be done, I'm glad you were the one chosen to do it. '

I made no answer to this, and in a few minutes she

arranged the cups and tea pot on the tray and carried

them out to the kitchen.

Several more minutes passed. She didn 't return and I

couldn't hear her. I was on the verge of getting up and

going into the other room to see if anything was wrong,

when she came back with another tray, this time with a

pack of expensive English cigarettes, an ashtray, and a

brightly-decorated pack of wooden matches.

She set the tray down on the table, then knelt at an

angle, turning only her profile to me. The skin of her

cheeks glistened with tears.

"In my country years ago, " she began, "when men

and women of the high-born class were not allowed to

mingle, it was sometimes difficult for a girl to speak

directly to a man. She would turn her head. as I am

doing now, so that she could not see whether the words

that came from her heart made him angry or pleased

him.

"We nwt under a false pretense, you and I. My

brother forged my security clearance and got me a

position on the AXE staff so that I could meet you and

challenge you to a karate match. The purpose I was tolC

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was to test you to see if you were worthy of fighting my

brother. I was not supposed to fall in love with you.

"But who can possibly predict these things? If you

hadn't been so gallant in accepting my challenge, or

made me ache so with desire to look at you, our sparring

contest might not have come to such an abrupt and

unexpected conclusion.

"Now in a few hours you 'II be fighting with Yoshit-

sune, trying to kill one another. And whichever of the

two of you wins, I lose. "

At this point she broke into tears and couldn't stop. I

got up and came around to her side of the table, knelt

down and held her. She made no effort to stop crying;

she let it flow. s 'I just wanted you to understand, " she

said between gulps, "why I acted the way I did at the

hotel. I couldn't face you. "

She buried her head in my shoulder and sobbed,

convulsing like a tiny wounded bird. I ran my hand

down her long black hair. We stayed like this for

several minutes while she cried and cried.

Finally, it seemed as though she'd spent it all. She

was like a baby crying itself to sleep, only she wasn't

asleep. She lay in my arms silently for a few minutes,

then she pulled back and looked at me.

S'Make love •to me, Nick, " she said.

I kissed her. It wasn't like it had been before. She

was all emotion now. nere was no restraint, no hold-

ing back out of fear. She yielded to me and engulfed me

at the same time.

J opened her kimono. Her skin was warm. I buried

my head between her breasts and her arms reached up

and encircled me. She was crying again.

"Don't stop. Please, ' ' she whisperedA didn't intend

to and quickly undressed.

I kissed her stomach. She was beginning to make low

NICK CARTER

moaning sounds in her throat. It was a beautiful throat. I

reached up and kissed that,

Her breathing was coming faster and faster, but I

went on kissing and stroking. telling myself to pa-

ti nt. to wait until she ached for me. But the teuth was I


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and encirc me.

e was crying again.

"Don't stop. Please, ' ' she whisperedA didn't intend

to and quickly undressed.

I kissed her stomach. She was beginning to make low

NICK CARTER

moaning sounds in her throat. It was a beautiful throat. I

reached up and kissed that,

Her breathing was coming faster and faster, but I

went on kissing and stroking. telling myself to pa-

tient, to wait until she ached for me. But the ü•uth was I

didn 't want to stop. Each movement was a communica-

tion between us, a message relayed and understood.

Finally I entered her, a long, slow surge. She gripped

my shoulders and gasped.

After that, it was like a swim in a river of forgetful-

ness. I thinking and lost myself in feeling. It

wasn 't anything like what it had been in Ph(knix. After

battling one another for almost an hour, our love-

making had explosive, torrid. Now it was gentle,

full of consideration for the other.

Every time she moved, she taught me something new

about her body, some new way to excite her, I rubbed

against her. fell back, came forward. Everything was

new as though I'd never done it before.

Eventually, I felt the first hints of those familiar

forces building in my lower body. The peak was com-

ing. fought it, wanting it and not wanting it at the same

time. Finally it overtook me whether I wanted it to or

not, and I slammed my body against her's with amazing

force. I crossed the threshold and hung in midair for

what seemed an eternity, then fell, pumping, pumping,

floating down, down, until I was adrift on a r*rfectly

calm sea.

She 'd reached her peak at exactly the same moment,

grabbed me and shrieked, then let herself go. Now we

were enmeshed in one another. I couldn 't tell where her

body ended and mine began.

We lay still a long while. I didn 't 01*n my eyes until I

felt her stir. We were on the floor. The table had been

pushed aside and the cushions scattered.

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I rolled over on my back and she rolled on top of me,


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I rolled over on my back and she rolled on top of me,

clinging to me. I rocked her back and forth in my arms

like a child until she relaxed. She swallowed hard and I

knew from her face that she was her composed self

again. She knew what had to done and she'd re-

signed herself to it.

Still neither of us wanted to move. She began kissing

my arms and neck. She stopped when she came to the

blue, black, and yellow bruise on the side of my rib

cage.

'*How did that happen?" she asked, touching it

tenderly with the tips of her fingers.

"Your brother. "

She nodded, then rolled off me, pulled her kimono

around herself and sat up.

"Where do I find him?'" I asked.

She pulled her knees up to her chin and rested her

head. She looked like finely chiseled marble. "I don 't

want to tell you. "

"You're going to have to. "

She got to her feet suddenly and walked to a desk set

against the wall. She pulled out a sheet of paper, wrote

on it quickly, then came back and handed it to me.

"He bought a mansion out along the coast. It used tc

be a French villa, but he's remodeled it. There's a big

wooden gate. You can 't miss it. " She said this without

the slightest twinge of feeling.

I opened the sheet. The address was on it. I folded it

back up again.

"You 're going now? How can you make love to me,

then turn around and go out and try and kill my

brother?"

I couldn't say anything. I just looked at her.

*'Don't answer. Go. Go on," she said, a note of

weariness in her voice.

NICK CARTER

I stood up, gathered my clothes, and began dressing.

It took awhile. I had Wilhelmina to strap on. I hadn't

bothered to remove Hugo. He was still attached to my

She stared at me sadly from the floor. It was as

though she didn't have any feeling left.

I took my jacket and was about to leave. '*Nick!' • she


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n answer.

weariness in her voice.

NICK CARTER

I stood up, gathered my clothes, and began dressing.

It took awhile. I had Wilhelmina to strap on. I hadn't

bothered to remove Hugo. He was still attached to my

She stared at me sadly from the floor. It was as

though she didn't have any feeling left.

I took my jacket and was about to leave. '*Nick! 'i she

burst out as I headed to the door. She ran up and threw

her arms around me, pressing her body against mine.

The smell of her hair, the smooth feel of her back under

my hands started that old tension deep in my gut. I

wanted her again.

S 'Please, don't. Don't," she sobbed.

I pulled her arms from around my neck and looked

sternly into her face. nen I gently lifted her chin with

my finger. Her lip was quivering. I kissed it, then I

turned and walked out the door.


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Eleven

I took a cab back to the hotel and went down below to

the underground parking lot to get the Porsche out. ne

attendant's cage was locked, however, with a sign in

the window telling me in French, English, and German

that after eleven thirty keys were kept upstairs at the

front desk.

I took the elevator to the first floor, crossed the

practically deserted lobby and presented my parking

stub to the young man on duty. He memorized the

number and disappeared into a small office t*hind the

desk. When he returned, he had my keys in one hand

and an envelope in the other.

'This came for you while you were out, Monsieur. ' '

' 'Thank you," I said.

I recrossed the lobby and pressed the button for the

elevator. While I waited, opened the envelope and

read.

There were two sheets. One was a note from Mat-

tingly. The other was a telex addressed with the usual

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NICK CARTÄ

Amalgamated Press cover, indicating it was confiden

tial from Hawk 's office, but not with enough priority to

be coded. I read the telex first.

It was headed, s 'RE: Analysis Object #537010. 't

Object #537010, I remembered, was the plastic film

cartridge I'd found in the apartment in Ann Arbor. I'd

sent it into the lab while I was in Washington and it had

taken all this time to catch up to me.

The body of the report was mostly technical: a break

down of the plastic used, the date and location of

manufacture, a list of possible outlets where it might

have been purchased. At the bottom it said, ' 'PROBAé

BLE USE: casette insert for Bashe IF ICN) 16mm motion

picture film. " The letters "IF' ' had been underlined b

Hawk, in red ink as usual.

I folded the report and stuck it in my jacket pocket,

thinking I'd digest it later. Then I read the note from

Mattingly. It was nothing. just an introduction to the

telex, saying he 'd received it through channels and was

passing it along. I crumbled it up and threw it in a trash

barrel as I was walking through the lot.

The significance of Hawk •s underline didn't hit me

until fifteen minutes later while I was in the Porsche

breezing through the streets of downtown Monte Carlo'

' 'IF" stood for infra-red. The entire episode in the

basement of that house had been photographed in the

dark using infra-red film. But why?

I went through the checkpoint that separates Monaco

from France, took a left and started climbing the brid

hill that would take me out of town.

There are two main highways running betweer

Monte Carlo and Nice: La Grande Cornishe, the one

took in from the airport, which skirts the edges of thc

cliffs eight hundred feet above the shoreline and

considered spectacular if too dangerous for general use

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and La Petite Cornishe, a more recent road mostly for

the trnefit of commuters, which is cut through the

jagged rocks closer to the ocean. The address Gigi gave

me was located roughly halfway to Nice off La Petite

Cornishe.


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took in from the airport, which skirts the edges of thc

cliffs eight hundred feet above the shoreline and

considered spectacular if too dangerous for general use

THE LAST SAMURAI

99

and La Petite Cornishe, a more recent road mostly for

the trnefit of commuters, which is cut through the

jagged rocks closer to the ocean. The address Gigi gave

me was located roughly halfway to Nice off La Petite

Cornishe.

came up a rise into a narrow place between two

outcroppings of rock where the road curved away from

the sea. On the other side was an auxiliary road leading

down to the shore, over the entrance of which was a

massive wooden arch in the shape of a pagoda. She was

right. You couldn't miss it.

I took a left and drove down about a hundred yards

until I found an opening in the wall of thick shrubbery

that bordered the drive. I pulled into the bushes, turned

offthe lights, and cut the engine. Ihen I slipped out and

closed the car door as tightly as I could without slam-

ming it.

These precautions were no doubt a waste of time. In

all probability I was expected down below just as I had

been in Ann Arbor and aboard St. Germaine's yacht,

but old habits die hard.

I walked down the remainder of the drive. The full

moon created shadows on the asphalt like a midday sun.

There was a fierce switch-back, then a gradual curve,

and the driveway leveled out and ended in a broad

parking area in front of a four-door garage.

I walked to the edge of the parking area and peered

over the waist-high, stone retaining wall that sur-

rounded it. Below me, down eighty feet of sheer rock

face, the surf roiled in the crags. Looking toward the

house and on up the coast the breaking waves created a

necklace of silver in the moon's light.

The house itself abutted the sea on a foundation Of

solid rock and in the moonlight looked big enough to

bivouac a regiment. Gigi was right. Obviously, at one

100

NICK CARTER

time it had been a millionaire's villa done in the usu


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took in from the airport, which skirts the edges of thc

cliffs eight hundred feet above the shoreline and

considered spectacular if too dangerous for general use

THE LAST SAMURAI

99

and La Petite Cornishe, a more recent road mostly for

the trnefit of commuters, which is cut through the

jagged rocks closer to the ocean. The address Gigi gave

me was located roughly halfway to Nice off La Petite

Cornishe.

came up a rise into a narrow place between two

outcroppings of rock where the road curved away from

the sea. On the other side was an auxiliary road leading

down to the shore, over the entrance of which was a

massive wooden arch in the shape of a pagoda. She was

right. You couldn't miss it.

I took a left and drove down about a hundred yards

until I found an opening in the wall of thick shrubbery

that bordered the drive. I pulled into the bushes, turned

offthe lights, and cut the engine. Ihen I slipped out and

closed the car door as tightly as I could without slam-

ming it.

These precautions were no doubt a waste of time. In

all probability I was expected down below just as I had

been in Ann Arbor and aboard St. Germaine's yacht,

but old habits die hard.

I walked down the remainder of the drive. The full

moon created shadows on the asphalt like a midday sun.

There was a fierce switch-back, then a gradual curve,

and the driveway leveled out and ended in a broad

parking area in front of a four-door garage.

I walked to the edge of the parking area and peered

over the waist-high, stone retaining wall that sur-

rounded it. Below me, down eighty feet of sheer rock

face, the surf roiled in the crags. Looking toward the

house and on up the coast the breaking waves created a

necklace of silver in the moon's light.

The house itself abutted the sea on a foundation Of

solid rock and in the moonlight looked big enough to

bivouac a regiment. Gigi was right. Obviously, at one

100

NICK CARTER

time it had been a millionaire's villa done in the usu


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taænmoout

the retaining wall above the water, jump down into thg

n-IE LAST SAMURAI

10t

courtyard and try my luck with one of the big french

I chose the french doors, thinking that would be the

way he 'd least expect me, and climbed the wall where it

met the wall of the garage. nere was space enough to

inch my way along, maybe a hand's span or two, but

there was nothing to hold on to but the smooth wall of

the garage. The sea t*low me, and now and

then the up-draft brought a misting of spray to give me a

foretaste of what would happen if I slipped.

At the far end of the garage wall, I ran into a far more

perilous obstacle, A space of several yards divided the

rear of the garage and the courtyard, and for two or

three steps I'd have to be tightrope walking without so

much as a pole to balance myself: and the wind out here

was a good deal more vicious than it had been back at

the parking lot.

As I stepped out cautiously, leaving the garage wall

behind, the wind roared and whipped my pants against

my legs. It did its insidious best to knock me off the few

inches of solidity I stood up on, blowing me hard

toward the house—forcing me to comrEnsate in that

direction—then stopping all of a sudden, so that my

attempt to balance myself almost toppled me into the

sea.

I took a step, then another. Again the wind shifted,

pushing me from the rear. I went down on one knee, but

the knee missed the top of the wall and I slid off, the

edge of the rocks scrapping along my side,

I hung on for dear life by my hands, my feet dangling

over eighty feet of nothingness. I had to pull myself up,

throw a leg over the top somehow, but that meant

pressure on my hand grip, and on the wind-and-water-

smoothed rocks my fingers were already starting to

separate and disengage.

102

NICK CARTER

The only thing left was to swing back and fonh and

build up some momentum. I pulled to the left, and when

I swung back to the right. I strained and shot out my leg.

My knee hit the stones a half foot below the top and I


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overer ty eeto no Ingness.

opu

throw a leg over the top somehow, but that meant

pressure on my hand grip, and on the wind-and-water-

smoothed rocks my fingers were already starting to

separate and disengage.

102

NICK CARTER

I

The only thing left was to swing back and fonh and

build up some momentum. I pulled to the left, and when

I swung back to the right. I strained and shot out my leg.

My knee hit the stones a half foot below the top and I

fell back.

I hung there for a minute, trying to think, the wind

screaming in my ears. After that last effort my hands

had slipped an inch closer to disaster. I had to try again,

but this time I couldn't afford to fall short.

I swung to the left. then to the right, then back to the

left again, the pain in my hands telling me how desper-

ate this was. I came back to the right as hard as possible,

threw my knee and missed, but managed to catch on

with my foot. With that added hold I was able to pull the

knee and with it the rest of my body back over the ridge,

until I was in a straddle B)sition on top of the wall.

I shinnied along, keeping flat, until my right foot hit

the wall surrounding the courtyard. Then I threw my leg

over and let myself down, dropping into the shrubbery.

I lay there a minute, listening for sounds of having

awakened anyone. No one came but the roar of the

(wean and the wind.

The courtyard was empty and the moonlight on the

white gravel gave it an eerie, unearthly quality. I got up

and walked across to the six black oblongs the french

doors made in the side of the house. Carefully, I tried

the second from the end. It was locked. I cupped my

hands and peered through the pane, but could see noth-

ing inside.

I checked the rest of the doors and found all locked;

then I went back to the second door. The lock was one

of those that are so simple, they defy the burglar's art.

There was no keyhole, just a brass deadbolt thrown

with latch from the other side.

I had no choice. I found a hefty stone, covered it with

THE LAST SAMURAI

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THE LAST SAMURAI

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my handkerchief, tapped on one of the panes until it

broke, and waited for the alarm t*ll,

The surf pounded, the wind hummed above the

courtyard, and that was all.

I opened the door and slipped in. The rncx)nlight

streamed through the panes of the glass doors and fell in

rectangular patterns across a wide floor of checker-

board tiles. I slipped Wilhelmina out of her holster and

hurried toward the opposite wall. The room was large;

at one time it might have been used as a ballroom or

dining hall. Now, as far as I could see, it was empty.

When I reached the other side, I pressed my back flat

against a door where light was visible through the

cracks. I waited a few seconds, then pulled it open.

Through the door was a hallway, although not the

kind you'd expect to find in a house. It was more like a

comdor in an office building—empty. The walls were

painted a unifonn, sterile gray, and the ceiling was lit

with a series of square florescent light fixtures.

I came out cautiously, pulling the door shut behind

me. The hall ran in three directions, to my right, my

left, and straight ahead. In each wall were doors spaced

every few feet. I chose the right, walked down a way

and tried the first door. It was locked. I tried another on

the other side. It was locked, too.

After I'd tried the second one, I realized there was

something strange about both these doors. They didn't

rattle in their jambs the way a door will when it isn 't fit

exactly snug into its frame. ney were immovable. It

made me wonder if they were really doors at all, or just

knobs screwed in place.

I tried several more, all with the same result. When I

came to the end of the hatl I turned around and went

back to my starting point. Out of curiosity, I tried the

door I'd just come through. It wouldn't budge.

104

NICK CARTER

I shook it. The knob began to come loose, but the

door stood solid as an oak. Flexing my wrist, I ejected

Hugo into the palm of my hand. Over the years he's

gotten me through a lot of doors. I inserted his needle

point into the lock in an effort to separate the tumblers,

onlv he wouldn't 20 in. I trnt down and discovered the


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came

back to my starting point. Out of curiosity, I tried the

door I'd just come through. It wouldn't budge.

104

NICK CARTER

I shook it. The knob began to come loose, but the

door stood solid as an oak. Flexing my wrist, I ejected

Hugo into the palm of my hand. Over the years he's

gotten me through a lot of doors. I inserted his needle

point into the lock in an effort to separate the tumblers,

only he wouldn't go in. I trnt down and discovered the

reason why. The keyhole was plugged with steel.

I shcx:rk the door again, but it was like trying to pry a

rock out of a sheer stone cliff. I was locked in. If I was

going to get out, it wasn't going to this way.

But I decided I couldn 't worry about that now. nere

was a bigger question: Did the fact the door was locked

mean someone knew I was here, or had it locked au-

tomatically when I shut it?

I was standing there. running this through my mind,

my hand still on the knob, when something happened

that made me wonder if I were seeing right: The

corridor-wall directly in front of me began to move.

Silently, fluidly, the end of the hall came forward a

full fifteen feet and then stopped, Then another section

to the left fell away, forming another wholly new

branch to the corridor.

I was dumbfounded. After a few seconds the ma-

neuver was complete and everything stopped. I waited

a few anxious seconds to see if anything else would

happen, then I went down to examine the new section.

It was nothing, a dead end like the others, with doors

spaced at intervals on either side. I u-ied one. but it

wouldn't open—as I'd much suspected would be the

case. I checked the joint where the two walls came

together. he seal was perfect. If I hadn't seen it hap-

pen, I'd never have known.

This brought up the possibility that may& the walls

had shifted earlier while I was testing the doors and I

hadn 't seen them. Then the door I thought was the one I

THE LAST SAMURAI

105

used to come in might not have been that door at all.

Maybe it was another door and wasn't locked in.


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case. I checked the joint where the two walls came

together. he seal was perfect. If I hadn't seen it hap-

pen, I'd never have known.

This brought up the possibility that may& the walls

had shifted earlier while I was testing the doors and I

hadn 't seen them. Then the door I thought was the one I

THE LAST SAMURAI

105

used to come in might not have been that door at all.

Maybe it was another door and wasn't locked in.

I started back to where ltd been standing the

walls began to move, came around the corner and

stopped short. The entire partition at the far end where

I'd been, doors and all. disappeared as another section

rolled in and sealed the area off. If I had any doubts

about being trapped in here, they evaporated.

At the same time a section moved at the opposite end

of the new comdor I 'd just been examining, thus open-

ing another extension, So there was a method in all this,

I was being led in a specific direction like a rat in 'a

maze, and I had no choice but to go along.

I walked down the new corridor, my finger nervously

working against Wilhelmina 's trigger. thought I heard

something me and I turned around in time to see

the sections of comdor closing in the rear. In front of

me new sections were opening up.


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Twelve

I proceeded this way for several hundred feet, al-

though there were never more than ten yards of hallway

open at any one time. As I approached the end of the ten

yards, the wall in front of me would pull back and the

section me would close.

Ihen it occurred to me to run a little experiment. I

stopped altogether and sat down with my back against

the left-hand lateral wall. The movements of the parti-

tion in front and behind ceased. Minutes went by, and

they stood silently. waiting. I had the feeling they would

wait forever if I didn 't move.

I stood up and started walking again, only this time I

varied my pace. I slowed down, then sped up, and with

each change of speed, the walls compensated. This led

me to believe they were probably being operated by

computer. which meant the machine must have some

device for sensing where I was, most likely in the

overhead lighting.

As I walked along, I considered shooting out a süing

108

107

NICK CARTER

d to see what would happen. I weighed


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NICK CARTER

of the overheads to see what would happen. I weighed

this against the two clips of ammunition I'd brought,

trying to decide, when I was again caught me com-

pletely by surprise.

Instead of moving out and away, leaving me a

straight passage in which to move, the forward wall

stopped and the walls on either side fell back, present-

ing me with two directions to follow rather than one.

I stopped in the intersection and looked down each

hall. They both went for the same distance. In fact, they

were identical; there was nothing to indicate whether I

should go one way or the other.

"Which way?" I shouted. My voice echoed against

the smooth surface of the walls and died away. nere

was no answer.

This is absurd, I thought; but which way?

I turned to the right. The wall at the end of the

comdor began to recede in front of me and I could hear

the left-hand hall rolling shut behind me, sealing that

possibility forever.

I continued on for the better part of an hour, making

numerous turns. I didn't think I was being led in

circles, but I couldn't sure. Four times I was given

the option as to which direction to go, twice with

choices ahead or behind, twice with the decision of

turning left or going on straight ahead. Each time I took

the way I thought would lead me further into the interior

of the building.

Finally, the inevitable happened, the ploy I'd been

waiting for since I found out the walls were movable. I

turned a comer and came down a straight section of

hallway. expecting the wall in front of me to ebb away

as it had been doing all along, Only this time it didn 't. It

just stood there like the blunt end of a giant hammer.

THE LAST SAMURAI

The wall behind me continued to close in.

109

I'd given some thought to what I would do if this

happened. ne waltg didn't move all that fast. It had

occurred to me that it might be possible, if I were very

quick, to shinny up the space between them and make

an escape into the ceiling by knocking out the overhead.


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just stood there like the blunt end of a giant hammer.

THE LAST SAMURAI

The wall behind me continued to close in.

109

I'd given some thought to what I would do if this

happened. ne waltg didn't move all that fast. It had

occurred to me that it might be possible, if I were very

quick, to shinny up the space between them and make

an escape into the ceiling by knocking out the overhead.

There would have to be a crawl space up there of some

kind to house the wiring and mechanisms necessary for

a set-up like diis.

Of course, this was assuming I was healthy, which I

wasn't, and not fatigued, which I was fast becoming at

two-thirty in the morning after a night of very little

sleep.

The wall crept toward me, foot by fCK)t. I holstered

Wilhelmina and braced myself. Twenty feet away, then

fifteen. There wasn't going to be much time.

Five feet. I lifted my leg to catch the wall as it came.

It moved in big and blank, growing bigger. I up

at the ceiling, and it seemed a mile away. I asked myself

how in the world I ever hoped to scramble up this blank

mountain all that way using only the forward wall as a

support?

I felt weak suddenly, my body telling me I'd already

pushed it to the limit. nere wasn't enough left in me to

crawl that fast that far. I couldn 't do it.

I dropped my foot. The wall rolled in and pressed

against my body. Like some brute rapist, the cold steel

kissed my cheek. The overhead was out now, the wall

having moved beyond it, and the pinched space left to

me was dark.

I didn't want to give up. My mind kept racing,

looking for a possible escape. There had to some

way.

The wall pressed its case. I could feel the rivets

110

NICK CARTER

where the sheets of it were spliced together and even the

criss-cross of the support rods on which the metal sheets


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me was dark.

I didn't want to give up. My mind kept racing,

looking for a possible escape. There had to some

way.

The wall pressed its case. I could feel the rivets

110

NICK CARTER

where the sheets of it were spliced together and even the

criss-cross of the support rods on which the metal sheets

were hung.

My feet splayed out duck-style and the first bolts of

pain shot up from my unnaturally twisted knees.

Soon my ankles, knees, hips, shoulders. all felt it.

The air rushed out of my lungs in a wheezing moan that

at first I couldn 't had come from me. lhe wall,

pressed flat against the side of my face. ground into my

cheekbones, my ears, and the back of my head.

A crazy fear ran through my mind. I was afraid my

body would be crushed, but not my skull. Then I

wouldn 't die, at least not right away, but the bones and

the splinters would skewer everything in me. I didn't

think I could stand that kind of pain,

I was about to go limp, realizing resistence only

made it hurt more and that I would never be able to

make myself disappear completely, when the wall to

my rear suddenly opened up and I fell backwards into

darkness.

I lay for a few seconds without trying to get up, then

pulled myself slowly to my feet. My joints ached but

nothing seemed to be broken. Stills I was shaking. For a

minute I thought that, after all these years, I'd finally

had it.

Everything still in total darkness, I grorrd my way

back to the wall and the place where I 'd fallen through.

It was gone. I searched for several yards in either

direction, but I couldn 't find any evidence of a door, or

even a seam.

I decided to trgin walking to my right. running one

hand along the wall, counting my paces. Thirty-two

steps later I still hadn't made contact with an adjoining

wall or anything else, when a bright light flashed on and


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THE LAST SAMURAI

111

there was a snap and a surging sound like an electric

motor being started.

There was also a loud hissing noise like a steam valve

being blown off time and again. I shaded my eyes and

squinted into the glare. What I saw was unbelievable.

Towering above me was a mechanial reproduction of a

medieval Chinese dragon. It was huge, over twelvefeet

high, and out from between the shoulder blades of its

stubby, dinosaur-like body shot eight long necks like

snakes, and at the end of each of these was a snake's

head, hissing and darting its tongue.

I recoiled half a step in amazement. Minamoto had

done a suErrb job of animation. Never had I seen

anything fabricated out of metal, cloth, and plastic look

so real. Saliva dripped from the snakes ' mouths, and its

outer covering glinted with blue and gold like the pris-

matic scales of a fish. Even the nostrils flared as though

they were actually sucking air.

I .was so astounded, I forgot to be careful. Out of

nowhere, one of the heads, half a foot from eye to eye,

and a foot and a half long, swooped down and snagged

my leg with the fangs that protruded five inches from its

upper jaw. It tore my trousers and opened a bloody

slash in my shin, and then it snapped back like light-

ning.

I pulled out Wilhelmina. For a few seconds I fol-

lowed the head trying to get a clear shot, then took a

bead on one Of its brothers. ne heads whipped back

and forth like striking pythons. never lingering in one

spot long enough to gun down. Finally, I held the gun

steady and waited fora head to move into line. Then I

squeezed off a shot.

I got one under the back part of the jaw, but except

for a slight jamng, the bullet had no effect whatever.

112

NICK CARTER

I fired again. This time it went into one of the eyes.

The eye popped like a picture tube. A pale wisp of

smoke came out of the empty socket and the jaw

dropped open, although the neck went on flailing the air

like the others.


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squeezed off a shot.

I got one under the back part of the jaw, but except

for a slight jamng, the bullet had no effect whatever.

112

NICK CARTER

I fired again. This time it went into one of the eyes.

The eye popped like a picture tube. A pale wisp of

smoke came out of the empty socket and the jaw

dropped open, although the neck went on flailing the air

like the others.

Knocking out one of the heads only seemed to anger

it. Another head sailed at me, hitting the wall behind me

with a sickening thud when I ducked just in time.

No sooner had I stood up again than another pair of

jaws smacked the floor in front of me. I and

tried to come down on top of it, but I was late.

When I recovered my balance, I trained Wilhemina on

it, thinking I'd blow it off its neck, but it had recoiled by

this time and I didn't want to waste a shot.

While I was concentrating on that one, another suuck

from behind. They were coming at me snake-fashion,

from all directions, lunging fangs first. trying to hook

them into me.

I side-stepped the threat to the rear, swung and

caught it between the eyes with the butt of the Luger.

Again, I had to marvel at Minamoto's programming.

The head sprung back as though it were actually hurt.

So far I'd teen lucky, but so far it had only been

toying with me. I was too close to it. But every time I

tried to move out of the way, another snake head cut me

off. I batted at them with Wilhelmina whenever one

came close, but I didn 't kid myself into thinking r was

doing any damage.

Then I saw an opportunity to make a run for it. Six of

the heads arched back simultaneously, testing the air

with their tongues, allowing themselves to coordinate

the attack so they didn't all run into one another. This

left two down low to keep me busy. One of these was

the head I'd shot out earlier.

My first instinct was to rush the weaker side, but that

THE LAST SAMURAI

113

would leave my back unprotected, and the weak head,


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Then I saw an opportunity to make a run for it. Six of

the heads arched back simultaneously, testing the air

with their tongues, allowing themselves to coordinate

the attack so they didn't all run into one another. This

left two down low to keep me busy. One of these was

the head I'd shot out earlier.

My first instinct was to rush the weaker side, but that

THE LAST SAMURAI

113

would leave my back unprotected, and the weak head,

while it couldn •t bite me, could act as a bamer while the

second moved in for the kill. So I feinted in the direc-

tion of the fully functional head. two steps, as though I

were going to make a break.

It thought it had me. Out of the corner of my eye, I

saw it timing its attack to intercept me in motion.

It struck, and this time it wasn't fooling. It came

flying hard and fast. I sucked in my chest. The head

whizzed past close enough to brush the of my

coat, then hit the wall with a crack and broke offboth its

fangs. It recoiled a hell of a lot slower than it had

charged and I took off for the other side of the room.

The room's decor was every bit as strange as the

dragon. It was like a stage set. Piled waist high along

the floor were masses of raw cotton set out in blob-like

shapes. The floor, walls, and ceiling had been painted

in variegated hues to resemble a blue sky, azure at the

base and growing gradually paler to almost pure white

at the top. In the ceiling burned an electric imitation

sun, and along the walls and hung midway between

floor and ceiling on wires were additional masses of

cotton, supposedly to resemble clouds.

The idea I gathered was that the dragon and I were

supposed to fighting somewhere in midair high

above the earth. I hadn't the vaguest notion as to why

Minamoto would go to all this trouble just to create an

effect, but the cotton at floor level was the only cover

available. so I plunged in.

When I got to the middle, I crouched down and

pushed away the cotton that obscured my view of the

dragon. Then I framed him in my sights.

He moved toward me on his back legs, dragging his

ponderous tail t*hind him. Because of his enormity he

only had to go a few steps to have me cornered. I was


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pon 1m. eeause«h

only had to go a few steps to have me cornered. I was

114

NICK CARTER

going to have to stay on the run, constantly shifting

positions to keep ahead of him and avoid stabbed

to death by those knife-like fangs.

Before he got close, I fired. *Ihe bullet ricocheted

off one of the necks and struck a wall. I fired again and

hit a head dead center. It jerked upward, then fell back

into its original position, still operational. Apparently,

I 'd been lucky the first time around and found the one

chink in its armor, the eyes.

I took more careful aim and squeezed. Wilhelmina

kicked a little in my hand and I missed the eye by a few

inches.

He was closing in. In a few seconds I was going to

have to run for it. I pulled the trigger again and this

time, in one of the longer-necked heads, the eye went

black and glass tinkled to the floor. Ihe neck still

moved, but the head itself was out of commission.

I saw a glint in the light above me and ducked down

just as a pair of fangs shot past my head. Another

followed close behind.

I scrambled to my feet and started running along the

wall. Wmen I came to another white patch, I trampled

my way into the center of it, crouched and got myself

ready again.

Two heads down with six shots. Three bullets left in

the gun and nine more in the spare clip. I couldn 't afford

to waste any.

lhe dragon spun around, whipping its huge tail and

crashed it into the far wall. That was something else I

was going to have to keep an eye on. If he caught me

with that tail, I was a goner.

'Ihe heads sawed the air, hissing. ney were looking

for me. Finally, one of them spotted my hiding place

and they all trained on it.

THE LAST SAMURAI

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I drew a bead on another eye and fired. Missed. Too

far away and moving too fast.

I aimed again, holding the old girl steady at arm's

length and using my left hand for support. I fired and


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my way into the center of it, crouched and got myself

ready again.

Two heads down with six shots. Three bullets left in

the gun and nine more in the spare clip. I couldn 't afford

to waste any.

Ihe dragon spun around, whipping its huge tail and

crashed it into the far wall. That was something else I

was going to have to keep an eye on. If he caught me

with that tail, I was a goner.

•ne heads sawed the air, hissing. ney were looking

for me. Finally, one of them spotted my hiding place

and they all trained on it.

THE LAST SAMURAI

115

I drew a bead on another eye and fired. Missed. Too

far away and moving too fast.

I aimed again, holding the old girl steady at arm's

length and using my left hand for support. I fired and

missed, then fired again in quick succession. ne sec-

ond bullet found its mark and another eye went black,

the head becoming nothing but dead weight.

Clearly I had to move again. I shot past his back leg

just ahead of a flying pair of fangs, then jumped to

avoid the backlashing of the tail. I went up and it went

under, but my rear foot hit, flipping me. I fell on my

side, rolled, and came up running.

When I was out of range of those needle teeth, I

stopped. The spare clip was in my inside pocket. I dug it

out and slammed it into the butt of the Luger. Then I

hunkered down and took aim.


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Thirteen

The dragon had already turned and was coming for

me. I fired six more times and took out two more heads.

When he flushed me from the cotton again and I circled

the perimeter of the room until I was behind him. fien I

got down and aim once again.

So far this little game was working to my advantage.

Except for one small problem: I was running out of

ammo. I had three heads left, one of which had smashed

the teeth out of itself earlier. But I had only three more

bullets, and my score to date, bullets vs. heads, wasn 't

the best.

As the dragon turned to move toward my new posi-

tion, I noticed something about it that had escaped me

before. Between its legs, running from its body to a

hole in the floor, was a thick black cable.

How could I have been so stupid? I wondered. Here

was the way to defeat this thing. Simply cut off its

power source.

Before the dragon could turn to face me, I started

117


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was the way to defeat this thing. Simply cut off its

power source.

Before the dragon could turn to face me, I started

118

117

NICK CARTER

moving again, circling the room. The dragon was

forced to spin with me to keep me in front of him. He

was built in such a way that he had to dip his body in

order for the heads to strike at me , and the only way he

could do that was forward.

Unfortunately for him, he couldn't spin as fast as I

could circle. Eventually, I got around behind him and

had a clear shot at the cable. I crouched and fired. I

could have sworn I'd hit it, but nothing happened.

Clearly I was going to have to get closer.

I circled again until I had him facing the opposite

way, then charged his rear. He swung his lanced tail at

me, trying to swat me like a fly, but I was ready for it

and dodged out of the way. Then I quickly ran in close

to the hase of it before he could whip it toward me

again, and put my hand on its haunch to steady myself.

The dragon reared and clawed the air with his smaller

front feet. The hissing increased in ferocity as he kept

trying to tum around and crush me. I held the gun three

feet from the cable and fired.

lhe bullet made a white mark where it deflected off

the black plastic sheathing but failed to penetrate. I

fired again and a second white mark apErared like a

twin to the first. I had used up all my ammunition.

Hissing noises above me indicated what lay in store.

The heads were striking, but I was still just out of range.

I holstered the gun and ejected Hugo. Then I turned to

face them with the only weapon I had left.

A head sprung at me. I pulled back out of its path to

let it shoot by, grabbed it by the neck in a bear hug

before it could recoil, and jumped on for a ride.

lhe mechanism was stronger than I thought, It

shipped me through the air as though an extra hundred

and eighty pounds were nothing at all. At first it was all

I could do to hold on, but when I figured I 'd seen the full


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THE LAST SAMURAI

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range of its efforts to throw me, I pulled myself aboard

like a bronco rider.

I grabbed the head by the snout, one hand around the

upper jaw between the fangs, reared back. and plunged

Hugo into the eye. The glass broke and the head

dropped, lowering the fangs. The change was so sud-

den, I had to hold on with both hands to keep from

falling off.

*'Ihe ride wasn't over though—not by a long shot.

The neck t:rgan swinging back and forth like a pendu-

lum, building speed. Ihen it heaved back and snapped

me across the room. I hit the wall with my back about

eight feet above the floor and fell,

For a minute I just lay there. Everything hurt. That

was one rodeo stunt I wouldnst doing again soon.

J could hear it moving toward me , its big, clawed feet

scraping the floor, but I couldn't move. When I finally

looked up, it was right over me, a big scaly mass of

stomach with tendrils that seemed to reach to the ceil-

ing.

Two fangs dived toward me, hit the wall just above

my head and glanced off, slicing part of my arm in the

process.

Ihe sight of blood was enough to bring me back to

my senses. I crawled out from between the wall and the

dragon, got my feet under me somehow and ran for

safety. didn 't stop until I was flat against the far wall. I

let it hold me up, panting, the air moving in and out of

my lungs like a wood rasp.

Ihis last little adventure had turned the corner for

me. I was exhaustd I'd put about everything I had into

this fight and still hadn't t*en able to beat this thing.

I tried to think of some strategy, but my mind

wouldn't function anymore. All I could do was stare.

The dragon made one final tum, located my position,

120

NICK CARTER

and came stalking in my direction.

Most of the heads beat the air spastically, slack-

jawed, running into one another like a machine gone

berserk. Ihree of them, however, two with teeth. rode


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this fight and still hadn't t*en able to beat this thing.

I tried to think of some strategy, but my mind

wouldn't function anymore. All I could do was stare.

The dragon made one final tum, located my position,

120

NICK CARTER

and came stalking in my direction.

Most of the heads beat the air spastically, slack-

jawed, running into one another like a machine gone

berserk. Ihree of them, however, two with teeth. rode

on the beast's shoulders looking down at nr soberly.

Apparently, I'd created a short in the head I'd just

disabled with Hugo. Sparks flew from its mouth, and

instead of hissing, it popped.

I watched it come, wondering if I had the strength to

elude it again, fast coming to the conclusion I didn't,

when a panel opened in the wall only a few feet from me

and a small platform extended.

On the platform, ensconsed on a red velvet pad, was

an ornate sword, the kind once used by the ancient

samurai.

I looked over at it with a measure of wonder and

disgust. What was Minamoto up to, anyway? I asked

myself. How long was he going to toy with me? First

the maze, then the dragon, now this.

The dragon was pressing. The closer of the three

working heads had already coiled and was getting ready

to strike. I ran over, grabbed the sword, and moved

clear.

The dragon spun around, swishing its tail into the

little platform, splintering it and sending the red velvet

cushion flying.

1 unsheathed the sword. It was the real thing. Etched

on the tip of the blade was the horimono, the hallmark

of the craftsman who rnade it. I tried it a few times. It

hummed in the air. nese swords weren 't like the brittle

cutlasses and rapiers made in Europe. lhe Japanese

deve10f*d a process of pounding the metal out and

folding it back on itself thousands of times, strengthen-

ing the blade far beyond the tolerance ofa single-forged

THE LAST SAMURAI

121

piece of steel. In the hands of a master a sword like this


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of the craftsman who rnade it. I tried it a few times. It

hummed in the air. nese swords weren 't like the brittle

cutlasses and rapiers made in Europe. lhe Japanese

deve10f*d a process of pounding the metal out and

folding it back on itself thousands of times, strengthen-

ing the blade far beyond the tolerance ofa single-forged

THE LAST SAMURAI

121

piece of steel. In the hands of a master a sword like this

could fell a tree.

The new weapon in my hands rejuvenated me. ne

dragon moved in, but I stood my ground, letting him ggt

dangerously close. I waited until he was towering over

me, the monstrous snake pit between his shoulders

coiling and uncoiling. Then I swung with all my might.

Ihe sword hit one of the necks of the nonfunctioning

heads inches below the line where the neck and head

joined, sunk an inch or so into whatever material cov-

ered the dragon 's frame, then bounced off as though the

blade were made of rubber.

I swung again hitting the shoulder from which the

necks sprouted, hoping to relieve this thing of all eight

heads in one blow. Same result. ne sword sprang off,

twisting me halfway in the other direction on the re-

bound.

A head struck at me from above. I fended it off with

my arm, but the force of it almost knocked me over. A

second attacked from the other side. They had me in a

crossfire.

I swung the sword furiously to clear them away.

When they retreated, I lunged at the dragon's body,

trying to drive the point through its chest. It wouldn't

penetrate. I uied again and couldn 't get the

past the slimy outer covering. Something was prevent-

ing it.

Then it dawned on me: The whole dragon must have

been covered with the same black plastic as the cable in

back. I didn 't know what that plastic was , but it was the

toughest material I'd ever tried to go through.

By this time the beads were on me again, sailing at

me from both directions. I made a swoop with the

swor/ that sounded like the wing stroke of a giant bird.


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NICK CARTER

They backed off and I got away again.

On the other side of the room, I was at my wit's end. I

had no idea why I had been given the sword since it did

me no good. I was about to fling it across the room,

when suddenly something clicked in my mind.

The handle of the sword was tickly coated with

rubber, something a samurai would obviously never

use. At first I'd thought it was for improving the grip.

But now I wondered if perhaps it weren't there to

insulate its user against electrical shock.

If this were true, did it mean Minamoto was deliber-

ately hinting at a way out of this mess?

I didn 't stop to analyze the implications of this. I took

Hugo in my right hand and the sword in my left and ran

around to the rear of the dragon.

Again, he tried to dispose of me with his tail. I waited

while he swung it back to get leverage, then rushed in

before he could whiplash it around and catch me.

This time I didn't bide my time in the protective

hollow of his backside. I jumped on his spine using

Hugo like a climber's piton, digging him into the outer

covering, pulling myself up, then plunging him in

again.

The heads spotted me coming up the back and the

three still functioning went wild trying to stop me. Ihey

new back and forth in a frenzy, hissing like a colony of

adders. But the robot was designed to attack facing

forward. Consequently, the line Of flight necessary to

get a good strike at me was a little awkward.

One head flew at me and fell half a foot short,

stabbing its own body near the shoulder blades with its

fangs. These caught in the covering material until the

head jerked them free and recoiled for another try.

I realized as long as I stayed plastered against the

back of it, I was fairly safe. But I hadn't come this far to

THE LAST SAMURAI

123

be cozy. Using Hugo, I inched up the neck of the head

that had thrown me earlier. It was still sputtering like a

volcano.


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stabbing its own body near the shoulder blades with its

fangs. These caught in the covering material until the

head jerked them free and recoiled for another try.

I realized as long as I stayed plastered against the

back of it, I was fairly safe. But I hadn't come this far to

THE LAST SAMURAI

123

be cozy. Using Hugo, I inched up the neck of the head

that had thrown me earlier. It was still sputtering like a

volcano.

I made it to within a fcx»t of the head itself, hanging

like a kid on a thin branch in a windstorm, when

another of the necks suddenly wrapped itself around the

base of the one I was om I could see what was coming.

They began to entwine like two mating snakes with me

in the middle.

Snake bodies would have been tolerable. At least

they would have had some give to them. But these

necks were made in steel sections, something like a

goose-necked lamp, and when they squeezed, they

squeezed hard.

The coil went first around the backs of my calves,

then my midsection, and finally and very quickly it

began to wrap around my head. I pushed it up with my

hands just in üme to prevent it from crushing my

windpipe.

Their tryst took but a few seconds, then they sepa-

rated, leaving me gasping. I hung on trying to get my

breath, but there wasn't time.

lid stuck the sword in my belt before starting to

climb, and with the two necks finally disengaged, I

stabbed Hugo into the soft area behind the jaw and

pulled myself up on a level with the head. nen I held

on tight, pulled the sword out of my pants, and sunk a

third of it into the mouth.

The rate of sputtering increased from an occasional

spark to a continuous blaze.

During this time the still-working heads attacked

without mercy. Fangs whizzed by my ears and neck.

My coat was in shreds and a warn rivulet ran down my

back. Fortunately, I was nested in a cluster of disfunc-

tional heads and difficult for these three still-enterpris-

124

NICK CARTER


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stabbing its own body near the shoulder blades with its

fangs. These caught in the covering material until the

head jerked them free and recoiled for another try.

I realized as long as I stayed plastered against the

back of it, I was fairly safe. But I hadn't come this far to

THE LAST SAMURAI

123

be cozy. Using Hugo, I inched up the neck of the head

that had thrown me earlier. It was still sputtering like a

volcano.

I made it to within a fcx»t of the head itself, hanging

like a kid on a thin branch in a windstorm, when

another of the necks suddenly wrapped itself around the

base of the one I was om I could see what was coming.

They began to entwine like two mating snakes with me

in the middle.

Snake bodies would have been tolerable. At least

they would have had some give to them. But these

necks were made in steel sections, something like a

goose-necked lamp, and when they squeezed, they

squeezed hard.

The coil went first around the backs of my calves,

then my midsection, and finally and very quickly it

began to wrap around my head. I pushed it up with my

hands just in üme to prevent it from crushing my

windpipe.

Their tryst took but a few seconds, then they sepa-

rated, leaving me gasping. I hung on trying to get my

breath, but there wasn't time.

lid stuck the sword in my belt before starting to

climb, and with the two necks finally disengaged, I

stabbed Hugo into the soft area behind the jaw and

pulled myself up on a level with the head. nen I held

on tight, pulled the sword out of my pants, and sunk a

third of it into the mouth.

The rate of sputtering increased from an occasional

spark to a continuous blaze.

During this time the still-working heads attacked

without mercy. Fangs whizzed by my ears and neck.

My coat was in shreds and a warn rivulet ran down my

back. Fortunately, I was nested in a cluster of disfunc-

tional heads and difficult for these three still-enterpris-

124

NICK CARTER


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third of it into the mouth.

The rate of sputtering increased from an occasional

spark to a continuous blaze.

During this time the still-working heads attacked

without mercy. Fangs whizzed by my ears and neck.

My coat was in shreds and a warn rivulet ran down my

back. Fortunately, I was nested in a cluster of disfunc-

tional heads and difficult for these three still-enterpris-

124

NICK CARTER

I

ing ones to get at. There was one. however, whose

angle was a little better than the others and who had

persistently done more damage. I turned my attention to

him.

I moved to one side, holding the samurai blade be-

tween me and my attacker. Two thirds of it were ex-

posed. nen I placed my head near the bare steel,

daring it to strike. It did, missing me, but neatly wmp-

ping its jaws around the sword.

No sooner had it made contact than sparks began to

fly. Beneath me the entire structure stiffened. I could

almost feel the electricity channeling down the wrong

wires, blowing out circuit boards, frying switches,

blasting fuses. The necks stopped moving. Ihe hissing

of the other two heads stopped and they froze.

"Ihe sun in the ceiling grew dim, then blinked out

altogether. In a few seconds it came back on. Minamoto

had had to switch to emergency power.


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Fourteen

I pulled Hugo out of the soft plastic scales and let

myself down. Now that it was still, the dragon didn 't

look so impsing. Just a big grotesque sculpture in

plastic and steel in a ridiculous posture, biting its own

head.

I took off my cashmere jacket. It had been ruined in

the final skirmish. A slice had been opened in the back

from shoulder to shoulder by one of the fangs. My back

was also cut, but that would heal.

I was standing there examining myself for any other

damage. when I heard a click like a casette tape being

shoved into a player. nen a voice started speaking in

academically clear English.

' 'In the time before there was time, before Amater-

atsu, Goddess of the Sun, had willed her grandson the

islands of Japan and before his grandson, Jimmu, be-

came the first mortal to ascend to the throne, Susano-o,

the Impetuous Male, son of Izanagi, and Izanami, was

traveling in the•province of Izumo.

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125

NICK CARTER

s snere dwelled a great dragon. Eight heads sprouted

from its many necks, and its eight tails filled eight


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islands of Japan and before his grandson, Jimmu, be-

came the first mortal to ascend to the throne, Susano-o,

the Impetuous Male, son of Izanagi, and Izanami, was

traveling in the•province of Izumo.

126

125

NICK CARTER

s snere dwelled a great dragon. Eight heads sprouted

from its many necks, and its eight tails filled eight

mountain valleys. The dragon feasted on mortal flesh

and ravaged the maidens of Izumo.

*Ihe oppressed rH»ple of the province, hearing that

a great warrior was in their midst, beseeched Susano-o

to slay the dragon. Susano-o thought it a challange

befitting a god.

"He chose the most beautiful maiden in Izumo as

bait, and with his father's sword and a great many casks

ofsake, lay in wait for the beast with the eight heads and

whose tails filled eight mountain valleys.

' 'Ihe of the beast was very vast and Susano-o

heard it coming days in advance. Ihe earth

and the sky became turgid with black clouds. Susano-o

poured the wine into a trough and tied the maiden to a

stake.

fierce dragon soon came, sniffed the sake.

Overwhelmed with the novelty of the liquor, he drank

his fill, and fell into a deep sleep.

"Susano-o stole from his hiding place and cut the

maiden loose, telling her to go back to her village.

Then, his father's sword in hand, he struck off each o

the monster's heads.

s 'Not satisfied that by beheading it he'd killed it, he

decimated the body one section at a time. So large was

the dragon, this task mk a hundred days.

s 'For twenty days he slew the necks and cut them to

pieces. Then he proceeded down the back, upon which

forests grew. •nis work occupied him another thirty

days. Finally, he reached the base of the huge tail, s

vast that clouds had gathered on it. He set to w

hewing it apart, when his sword, venerable and migh

though it was, succumbed to the enormity of his effort

and the blade turned.


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' 'But that day Fortune smiled down on Susano-o and

he found another sword embedded in the dragon 's tail.

Quickly he finished his work, and when he was done,

gave his newly-found sword to his sister, Amateratsu,

the Goddess of the Sun. Because of where he'd found

it, he called it 'Cloud-Cluster Sword.' "

This recitation took two, maybe three, minutes and

made about as much sense as anything had since I'd

begun this assignment. As soon as the voice stopped

and the clicked off, a panel opened in the wall to

my left. I waited for more than thirty seconds, to see

what would come through. When nothing did, I

dropped what was left of my jacket, and walked over.

Through the door wasa room modeled in the same

stage-set fashion as the locale of my dragon battle.

Instead of the wild blue yonder, the theme now was the

mountains of Japan.

Murals of mountain scenery painted on the walls

gave the illusion of outdoors, an effect heightened

by indirect florescent lighting from the floor. ne

decorations consisted of phony rcrks and trees—

papier-måché and cloth from the look of them—painted

to resemble the real thing. Through all this ran a moun-

tain path and bisecting the path was a real mountain

stream which flowed out of one wall across the room

and disappeared. Over the stream was a sturdy-looking

wooden footbridge which took up a good portion of the

room.

I had learned by this time not to wonder overly much

at anything I encountered here. I entered and examined

the opening where the stream flowed out of the walL I

knew there was more to this house than I had seen, and I

was anxious to find some way out of this series of

rooms. Here I was subject to whatever mechanical

torture Minamoto's whimsy could invent.

128

NICK CARTER

Unfortunately. the slit where the water entered was

too narrow to allow me to escape. I checked to see if it

could be widened, but it was concrete. Then I tasted the

water. Salty. Apparently, it was being pumped in from

the Mediterranean.


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knew there was more to this house than I had seen, and I

was anxious to find some way out of this series of

rooms. Here I was subject to whatever mechanical

torture Minamoto's whimsy could invent.

128

NICK CARTER

Unfortunately. the slit where the water entered was

too narrow to allow me to escape. I checked to see if it

could be widened, but it was concrete. Then I tasted the

water. Salty. Apparently, it was being pumped in from

the Mediterranean.

*'nat water's not for drinking, Mr. Carter, said a

quiet voice just behind me. A heavy-set Japanese man

dressed in the cowl and robe of a Buddhist monk was

standing in the artificial foliage only a few feet from

me. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I only wanted to say

that if you need something to revive your spirit, tea will

be served momentarily. "

"I want to see Yoshitsune Minamoto and I want to

see him now," I said, standing up.

"And so you shall. But you can't be presented to the

Master dressed such as this. Here, put this on. Draped

over his arm was a dark maroon robe. He held it out for

me to take, but I backed away.

"You must trust me. You are a brave wamor. You

defeated a machine it took the Master many years to

build. We thought it was invincible, but you proved us

wrong. "

"You were watching?"

' 'We all watched. You were magnificent. Quite

magnificent. You are a warrior of the first rank, and you

will be treated her with the respect you deserve, "

• lhen if it's all the same to you, I prefer to keep the

clothes I have on. No matter how torn they are. "

"As you wish. " He hung the robe ona tree branch as

though to say if it were nothing to me, it was a rag to

him as well. Ihen he turned to me with a polite smile.

"We may go now. fie Master is waiting. '

He stepped aside to allow me to pass him on the path

but I motioned for him to go ahead. ' 'You first," I said.

He bowed and walked on in front of me. I followed.

THE LAST SAMURAI

129

We were halfway across the bridge when I stopped to


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"As you wish. " He hung the robe ona tree branch as

though to say if it were nothing to me, it was a rag to

him as well. Ihen he turned to me with a polite smile.

"We may go now. fie Master is waiting. '

He stepped aside to allow me to pass him on the path

but I motioned for him to go ahead. ' 'You first," I said.

He bowed and walked on in front of me. I followed.

THE LAST SAMURAI

129

We were halfway across the bridge when I stopped to

ask a question. "Whatis all this?" I said, sweeping my

arm to include the room as a whole. "And that other

place, too. What are these interiors supposed to repre-

sent with their cotton clouds and phony flowers and

trees

As I looked around, I noticed the door I'd come in

had been shut. "What the hell's going on here?" I

demanded. "Is this another trap0"

The monk didn't reply. His eyes narrowed. He

stepped back a pace and threw open his robe. Under-

neath he wore a full outfitting of samurai armor: breast

plate, skirt, and leggings, and on his hip was a samurai

sword.

'Aaaayiii! ' ' he yelled, drawing the sword and taking

a swing at me. I dodged out of the way and he split a

balustrade in the bridge railing. Then he reared back to

swing at me again.

I didn 't have a weapon, realizing Hugo was no match

for the sword and not being sure I wanted to give his

presence away just yet.

The monk let fly with the sword again and stuck it in

one of the wooden crossbeams. While he was jerking it

back and fonh trying to get it free, I put some distance

between us.

As I ran off the footbridge, I saw a long spear-like

knife leaning against one of the supports. I was sure it

hadn't been there a minute ago.

I picked up the spear and swung it in the air a couple

of times to get the feel of it. Known as a naginata, or

pole sword, it consisted of five feet of thick staff with

two feet of vicious blade stuck in the end. I 'd seen them

in museums on visits to Japan, but never actually held

one.

I didn 't get much chance to practice. He was on me in


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I didn 't get much chance to practice. He was on me in

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NICK CARTER

I

1

a few seconds, lunging and swinging the sword over-

head in an effort to slice me in half.

I stopped the blow with the business end of the

naginata. Ihe two blades clanged together and the

vibration stung my hands. nen I spun the weapon

around and caught him on the side of the head with the

staff.

It was a pretty neat move. I thought I'd clouted him

good. I expected it to at least stagger him, but he never

flinched. He came right back with two more sweeps of

his sword. I caught one on the blade, but the second cut

a big chip of wood out of the staff, and I realized I was

going to have to be careful or I was going to end up with

a short knife and a long useless pole.

As it was, I had something of an advantage. The

naginata was about seven feet long overall, which if I

could extend to its full length would put me out of range

of the monk's sword.

But to use this advantage, I had to get inside his

defenses. As long as he was on the attack and kept me

fielding blows, the awkwardness of the oversized

weapon worked in his favor.

He lunged at me with another overhand stroke. I

caught it on the blade, but before I could turn and swing

at him, he swung again, this time laterally, forcing me

to move the naginata awkwardly to block it.

By this time we'd moved down the path away from

the bridge. I let him have another blow, then I moved

under and around behind him. niere wasn't time to

strike him from here before he'd turned to face me

again. He was too fast and too good with his sword. But

I was leading him back toward the bridge and that, I had

calculated, was in my favor.

The bridge was arched and the man who stood on it

was on a level a or two higher than his opponent.

THE LAST SAMURAI

131

Not much of a consideration when men fight with guns,

but in swordplay there 's a world of difference between

striking up at or down to your adversary.


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again. He was too fast and too good with his sword. But

I was leading him back toward the bridge and that, I had

calculated, was in my favor.

The bridge was arched and the man who stood on it

was on a level a or two higher than his opponent.

THE LAST SAMURAI

131

Not much of a consideration when men fight with guns,

but in swordplay there 's a world of difference between

striking up at or down to your adversary.

I felt the bridge planking under my feet. He swung

and missed me. This infuriated him and he swung again

with all his might. This time I stepped back and the

blade stuck in the bridge. As he wrestled with it, ü•ying

to get it out, I laid the knife of the naginata on his

shoulder, resting the cutting edge against his neck.

"Don't move," I told him, "or I'll flick your head

off like a cigarette ash. "

His eyes narrowed again and I pushed the blade a

little closer to home.

"Which way is Minamot00"

He nodded in the direction of the other side of the

stream. I reached down and pulled the sword out, then

flung it over the railing. It landed with a splash near

where the stream flowed out of the wall. I spun him

around and held the cutting edge at the nape of his neck.

"March. "

We moved to the middle of the bridge. lhen sud-

denly he leaped away from me and turned around.

"l am Benkei!t' he shouted. "I am the monk of

Enryaku-ji. Born a man withhair and teeth , I could lift a

horse onto either shoulder and still slay a hundred men.

It was I who stole the great bell of Mii-dera and carried

it home on my back. And it was I who took the fore at

the battle of Uji and who split in mid-air the thousand

arrows of the Taira with my sword. Now in my old age I

have fallen to a lesser man. "

When he finished, he jumped over the railing into the

stream.

I assumed he was going to retrieve his sword. I

rushed to the railing with the naginata drawn back

prepared to send it through the back plate of his armor

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NICK CARTER


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the battle of Uji and who split in mid-air the thousand

arrows of the Taira with my sword. Now in my old age I

have fallen to a lesser man. "

When he finished, he jumped over the railing into the

stream.

I assumed he was going to retrieve his sword. I

rushed to the railing with the naginata drawn back

prepared to send it through the back plate of his armor

132

NICK CARTER

I

on the fly if need but the sight that greeted my eyes

from the stream below stopped me cold. Face down

between the rocks. being over by the swift

running water, his body bubbled and spit like a

drowned radio.

I humed to the of the bridge, then down the bank

to the edge of the stream. His head was still rx»pping and

spitting blue sparks. I rolled him over with the staff of

the naginata. He 'd fallen face-first on a rcxkt smashing

out all the features. But behind them wasn't blood and

sinew, it was a tangle of wires, diodes and micro-

prcressors.

' 'A robot!" I exclaimed.

"Not exactly, Mr. Carter," said a quiet voice from

the bridge. Yoshitsune Minamoto looked down at me

from above, his elbows resting casually on the railing.

' 'Robot' is an out-moded term. Even 'automaton'

hardly catches the elegance, the scientific sophistica-

tion of my creations. "

' 'l don't believe it, ' ' I said, looking down at the inert

form of the monk outstretched in the water. Only min-

utes before he had been a living, breathing man.

"Amazingly lifelike, isn't it? But you haven 't come

all this way and gone through this travail to gawk at

useless machinery. Come. "

He stretched out his arm and beckoned me.

"Come," he said. "You have nothing to fear. Old

Benkei was right in one respect. If there's anything that

gains admiration here, it's prowess in battle. Come.

You 've certainly proven yourself. "

J walked around to the foot of the bridge. He met me

and took my arm.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

'*Somewhere you can rest for a few minutes. Where

we can talk. "


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mg me.

as

'*Somewhere you can rest for a few minutes. Where

we can talk."

THE LAST SAMURAI

"Talk about what?"

133

"What all this has been about," he said, making an

expansive gesture with his hand. "Isn't that what you

want to know?"

"You •re a maniac," I said quietly. It was meant as a

simple statement of fact.

"People have said that. It doesn't mean I'm illogi-

cal. " He smiled, a grotesque expression that wrinkled

skin all the way to the top of his bald pate, except for the

smootl discolored areas around his temples. "Come

with me," he said.


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Fifteen

He led me across the bridge to the other side of the

room, then down the path to a panel in the wall that slid

as we approached. Through the panel was a room

even more massive than the one we'd just left and

decorated in the same son of way. Only instead of a

stream there was a reflecting pool. Around the pool and

throughout the room were an abundance of green

plants, real ones, ananged in a lush garden. And above

the pool, nestled in the shrubbery, was a wooden cubi-

cle structure that I recognized immediately—a

Japanese tea house.

s '*Ihis is my retreat," he said with a hint of pride. ' 'A

man needs a place to meditate, no?"

"Some retreat," said.

Just inside the room set against the wall were four

locker doors. Minamoto pulled the first of these open

and drew out a maroon robe identical to the one the

monk had been carrying.

' 'My robot, as you called it, offered this to you and

you refused to wear it. Won't you accept it now from

135


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'*My robot, as you called it, offered this to you and

you refused to wear it. Won't you accept it now from

i 36

135

NICK CARTER

me? You don't want to continue wearing those rags. ' '

"I 'II keep the rags, thanks. And I want you to know I

don't appreciate your gracious host routine.

He replaced the robe in the locker and closed the

door. "It is not a routine, as you say. I assure you, it is

quite sincere. " He pulled open the next locker and took

out a black kimono.

'Then you'll have to excuse me, but I don 't feel like

being polite. When I come visiting, I don 't enjoy being

pitted against mechanical puppets for the entertainment

of the host. "

He took off the jacket of his suit and hung it in the

locker. lhen he slipped on the kimono over his shirt and

tie. "I can understand how you must feel. As a guest

you have been treated disgracefully thus far. Please

accept my apologies and allow me to assure you there

are good reasons for the ordeals you 've had to endure.

He studied his image in a small mirror set on the

inside of the locker dcxjr and adjusted the knot of his tie.

Then he closed the locker.

would like to make this up to you in some small

way by offering acupoftea and explaining.. .

He reached oat to take hold of my arm, but I yanked it

away.

' 'You're not sorry enough, " I said. ' 'It isn't just me.

You compromised the security of an agency of the

government of the United States and you exposed the

entire population of the world to one of the most

dangerous microbes in the history of germ warfare. "

He looked up at me rather amused. "What will you

do? Arrest me? You forget where you are, Mr. Carter.

The environs here are controlled by me. I am the law,

the only law, within these walls. '

"I've seen your law and how you enforce it. I'm not

impressed.

137

THE LAST SAMURAI

His amused look faded. '*Very well, Mr. Carter," he


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cro s In e 'story o germ warfare."

He looked up at me rather amused. "What will you

do? Arrest me? You forget where you are, Mr. Carter.

The environs here are controlled by me. I am the law,

the only law, within these walls. '

"I've seen your law and how you enforce it. I'm not

impressed.

THE LAST SAMURAI

137

His amused look faded. '*Very well, Mr. Carter," he

sighed, "do as you wish. Let me just say that anger

becomes no man. Please don't tarnish my estimation of

your prowess as a man of battle with a display of lack of

self-control. I've brought you here at great trouble and

expense to make a gesture to you of my esteem. I am

going to retire to the tea house for a cup of tea. I would

very much like to have you join me. Or you may remain

here if you wish. When I return, we can make arrange-

ments for returning you to your car and a safe trip back

to Monte Carlo. " He bowed, then stepped around me

and walked off down the path in the direction of the tea

house.

As soon as he disappeared into the trees, I went back

to the wall panel. It was fastened tight with some kind

of spring mechanism. I wedged the knife end of the

naginata into the crack and pn«hed. Just as I was

making headway, the tip of the blade snapped off under

the pressure. I threw down the weapon in disgust and

began feeling the door frame for a photo-electric trig-

ger. It was then I noticed the unobtrusive black camera

box hinged high in the ceiling and rotating with every

move I made. The watchful eye of the computer, I

thought. No wonder it wouldn't

It looked as though I was a prisoner here until

Minamoto decided to let me out. I walked back to

where Minamoto had changed his clothes. To one side

was an arch fashioned with rough wc»den beams and

roofed with tree limbs and vines interwoven into a

thatch. Beneath it was a small stone bench. I sat down

for a minute to rest. It felt as though I'd been fighting

this house forever.

Minamoto was right about one thing. I was burning

with questions about him and this place and running off

at the mouth wasn 't going to get them answered. Chief


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WI ques ons

at the mouth wasn 't going to get them answered. Chief

138

NICK CARTER

among those questions were the particulars of how that

monk Benkei was constructed. I had never seen the like

of iti I had spent over fifteen minutes with it and never

once suspected it wasn •t real. An astounding achieve-

ment of bionic science. I had to have a better look at it

and I was sure there were people in Washington who 'd

like to have a look at it, too. When I left this place. I was

going to have to arrange to bring the monk's body with

me.

Things were quiet down in the tea house, I thought,

looking down in that direction. ' 'A gesture of my es-

teem." I wondered what he'd meant by that. He

thought I was something special because I'd learned to

take care of myself.

I sighed and stood up. I figured enough time had

elapsed to register my indignation. lhere was no shame

now in going down and finding out what this was all

about.

I considered fetching the robe Minamoto had offered

me earlier, but then I thought this would too much of

a capitulation and I went as I was, Wilhelmina strapped

in her holster around my chest, my shirt in tatters.

The path to the tea house is traditionally a series of

stepping stones, some of which have certain rituals

attached to them. One of these is the Water Basin, a

stone urn set on a pedestal where the guest washes off

the grime of the everyday world in preparation for the

rarified atmosphere of the tea house. I dispensed with

this. I had every intention of keeping the everyday

world firmly in mind.

I went quickly up the wooden steps to the small

opening in the wall known as the Wriggling-in-Place. I

was supposed to take off my but I didn't. I

wanted to show Minamoto that although I was comings

I was coming on my own terms.

THE LAST SAMURAI

139

I went in the only way I could, on all fours. In

Japanese tradition one is humbled from the outset.

Minamoto was busy preparing the tea. A small fire

crackled beneath an earthenware pot and on the mat in


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opening in the wall known as the Wriggling-in-Place. I

was supposed to take off my but I didn't. I

wanted to show Minamoto that although I was comings

I was coming on my own terms.

THE LAST SAMURAI

139

I went in the only way I could, on all fours. In

Japanese tradition one is humbled from the outset.

Minamoto was busy preparing the tea. A small fire

crackled beneath an earthenware pot and on the mat in

front of him were a number of utensils and two

looking cups.

When he saw me. he carefully laid the implement in

his hand to rest, stocxl and made a deep bow. "Wel-

come," he said. "My humble tea house radiates with

your presence. "

I bowed in return, and when I did, I was sure he saw

my shoes. If he was insulted, however, I couldn't tell it

from his face.

I sat across the mat from him on my knees in a

posture identical to his, and folded my hands in my lap.

This seemed to please him, and when I was settled, he

set about making the tea.

He removed the lid from the boiling pot and placed it

on a small block of wood seemingly designed for just

this purpose. Then he ladled a small amount of hot

water into a bowl and used it to wash a wire tool. He

then withdrew the tool and wiped it with a small napkin

he kept folded neatly in his sash. When the tool was

cleaned and dried, he carefully poured the dirty water

into a third bowl. Every movement he made seemed to

be part of a rehearsed ritual. All his concentration was

required for the simplest operation.

He went on in this slow, precise way for ten minutes

or more, ladling water, stimng in tea, each time wiping

everything with his napkin, until at last he bowed and

presented me with a cup contaimng a few ounces of

thick, bright green tea.

I bowed and accepted it. Then I took a sip. It was

terrible. Much too strong. I bowed again and put the

cup on the mat.

140

NICK CARTER

I was about to murmur my thanks, when he indicated


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He went on in this slow, precise way for ten minutes

or more, ladling water, stimng in tea, each time wiping

everything with his napkin, until at last he bowed and

presented me with a cup contaimng a few ounces of

thick, bright green tea.

I bowed and accepted it. Then I took a sip. It was

terrible. Much too strong. I bowed again and put the

cup on the mat.

140

NICK CARTER

I was about to murmur my thanks, when he indicated

with a movement of his head that I mustn't talk. Then

he picked up the cupl had used, took a sip. wiped the lip

of it with one quick movement of his napkin, and

returned the cup to the mat. Then he sat back on his

heels with a pleased expression on his face.

And it was finished. Not much of a ceremony, I

thought. And yet, something told me a lot hinged on

these last few minutes. At least for Minamoto. Nothing

was visible on his face, but his eyes and manner seemed

to indicate deep emotions attatched to this simple little

rite we'd just performed.

After a few seconds, he began the cleaning up. This

step was every bit as complex and prescribed as the

initial prepantion. Every implement had to be carefully

washed, dried, and laid out. and when that was done,

each was separately carried behind a screen, until fi-

nally only the big water bowl remained. He this

out carrying it with both hands. Then he returned and

knelt where he had been before and made me a low

bow.

J bowed in response and this is the way we remained

for the next several minutes, neither of us I

listened to the sounds of the house around me. Each

creak and thump was interesting. Outside, I thought, it

must be close to dawn.

"Do you feel calmer now?" he asked at last. S'More

willing to talk?"

"Yes, I feel better. But that doesn't mean I'm still

not angry."

" 'Anger held tightly in one 's stomach and released in

measured amounts can be a good thing. '

I

'Is that what you brought me all this way and put me

through this misery to tell me?"


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ug

rs nusery to te

THE LAST SAMURAI

141

' enlen if you don't mind, I think you owe me an

explanation . .

He held up a hand to stop me. "l will answer all your

questions in good time, but please, let me tell the story

in my own way."

"All right," I said. "Begin."

"We have a great deal in common, Mr. Carter," he

began. "We are tX)th wamors ina world that shuns war

and persecutes those who practice it. And yet we both

know the exhilaration of artned conflict and the mar-

velous finality of its resolutions. "

s 'In what way are you a warrior?" I asked.

am samurai, the last of a great house of fighting

men. I am named for one of the great of Japanese

history. Although I'm afraid my illustrious lineage

doesn't mean much in the world today. Modem-day

Japan is a long way from the Japan of my forefathers.

We are a conquered people. Mr. Carter. When a nation

is conquered. its past becomes suspect. Its E*ople lose

faith in their traditions. Believe me, Mr. Carter, it is not

easy to watch a culture as grand as the one that

flourished on our small islands for so many centuries

die. "

"I wasn't aware the culture of Japan was dying. "

"It is. Westernisms creep in. The people grow soft.

They forget the lessoms of honor and devotion to duty

their samurai forefathers taught them. When I was a

younger man, I thought it was to wake the

people out of their torpor. I thought that pointing out the

signposts of danger would be enough to turn them

around. But I was wrong. All it earned me was abuse

and ridicule.

' 'My realization of the hopelessness of trying to save

Japanese culture from extinction brought about one of

the most difficult periods of my life. I was working for

142

MCK CARTER

Niji Electronics. I quit my job and went to live alone in

the mountains. 'lhere I trained myself in the arts of

self-defense, archery, swordsmanship. I a


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signposts o

nger wou

around. But I was wrong. All it earned me was abuse

and ridicule.

' 'My realization of the hopelessness of trying to save

Japanese culture from extinction brought about one of

the most difficult periods of my life. I was working for

142

MCK CARTER

Niji Electronics. I quit my job and went to live alone in

the mountains. 'lhere I trained myself in the arts of

self-defense, archery, swordsmanship. I a

samurai in fact, not just in name. In time they began to

write newspaper articles about the crazy wamor living

in the mountains and young men came to join me. A

few at first, but gradually more and more. After a

while, we became something of a political force in the

government. Once again my hopes began to soar.

"But then legislation was passed prohibiting the

forming of private armies and we were forced to dis-

band. I tell you quite candidly, I was on the brink of

despair. "

' 'I don 't understand what all this has to do with me, ' '

I said.

"Allow me to finish. The gcxjs have taken mercy on

me. Three months ago I was told I have cancer. It has

entered the lymphatic system. 1 won't live out the

year.

' 'Gigi didn't tell me. . . "

' Gigi doesn't know. She thinks I'm crazy. yet she

loves me. She'll find out everything soon enough. "

"I'm sorry that you're ill," I said, "But Idon 't know

what I can do

' 'I have one last wish, a wish that you and you alone

can fulfill. Will you come with me? There's something

I'd like to show you. "

He stood up. I stood as well, glad of getting the

circulation back into my legs. Then he led me out the

nanow entrance hole and down the garden path toward

the reflecting pool.

"About ten years ago, I started monitoring the flow

Of classified information among the great Western gov-

ernments , he began again as we walked along. ' 'Mind

you, my interest wasn't malicious. It's just that elec-

THE LAST SAMURAI

143


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THE LAST SAMURAI

143

tronics and numbers have always come easily for me

and deciphering the codes was such child 's play. And I

noticed your code designation, N3, kept cropping up

time and again. I must confess, I became fascinated. I

followed all your exploits. So when I began this last

project of mine, you were naturally the man I thought of

first. "

We came to a bend in the path where the trees and

bushes had overgrown their boundaries. We pushed the

branches out of the way and I could see a small clearing

up ahead.

S 'First, " he went on, "l deternined I needed a great

deal of money, so I invented a system of winning at

blackjack that is not only foolproof, it is undetectable.

So came here where I could win large sums and not

have to pay taxes, bought this house and remodeled it.

Then I set up a series of tests for you. "

"Yes. You are undeniably the greatest warrior in the

Western world, but it remained to he seen if you were

wonhy of a samurai. "

"Is that what all this has been Testing me?"

"Yes. Gigi contacted you first in Then it

was my turn in Ann Arbor, and then here. Each test was

designed to measure your mental and physical abilities

under stress. I'm happy to say you passed admirably. "

"Terrific." I still didn't know what all this was

leading to. lhe clearing was just ahead of us. an empty

space in the shrubbery about a hundred feet across,

paved with fine white gravel.

"lhe only thing that remained was luring you out

here. Ihat •s why I set up the ploy with the microproces-

sor as an inducement. I knew you really didn 't need it.

Once the codes were discovered broken, they would

have to be changed in any event, but I thought as a

NICK CARTER

challange it would appeal to your pride as a warrior, and

I was right. "

pulled away the leaves that hung in the entrance to

the clearing and for the first time saw two stone benches

set side by side at the far end. Against each leaned a suit

of the hard leather annor similar in type to the one the


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sor as an inducement. I knew you really didn 't need it.

Once the codes were discovered broken, they would

have to be changed in any event, but I thought as a

NICK CARTER

challange it would appeal to your pride as a warrior, and

I was right. "

pulled away the leaves that hung in the entrance to

the clearing and for the first time saw two stone benches

set side by side at the far end. Against each leaned a suit

of the hard leather annor similar in type to the one the

monk had been wearing. 'lhere was also a samurai

sword.


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Sixteen

"Is this what you've been building up to all this

time?" I asked, "a contest between you and me?"

g 'Yes," he said frankly. He moved past me onto the

gravel.

"But that's absurd! Wait a minute," I said, taking

his arm. He turned to look at me, his expression blank

as stone. "You •re laboring under a misconception. I 'm

not a wan•ior, not in the sense you think. I have a job to

do, a dangerous job that requires me to learn how to

take care of myself in some pretty tough situations. But

that doesn't mean I enjoy killing. I don't do it for its

own sake. . . "

He pulled away and continued walking toward the

two stone benches.

can sympathize with your being sick, ' ' I said after

him, "but I •m no executioner. If you want to commit

suicide, you'll have to find somebody else to do the

dirty work. Minamoto, are you listening to me? I'm

telling you, I refuse to participate!"

146

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NICK CARTER


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NICK CARTER

He stopped walking and turned to me. 'SDon't you

think I've anticipated that possibility? ' ' he said quietly.

"What makes you think I'd give you any choice?"

'*What do you mean?"

"Surely you 've noticed the mechanical functions of

this house are controlled by a central computer. There

are also dynamite charges in the footings of the founda-

tion. Given the proper signal, the computer will set off

the dynamite and the entire structure will topple into the

sea. You have no alternative but to kill me and make

sure that signal is never given.

He walked to the left-hand bench, sat down, and

began strapping on one of the leather shin protectors. I

came up and stood over him.

' 'What kind of signal?' '

' 'A word. A code word. I've developed a predilec-

tion for codes. You must understand, I'm going to die

one way or the other, "

I sat down on the other bench and shook my head in

disbelief. "Why don't you commit hara-kiri the way

your forefathers did? Why drag me into it?"

' ney had their battles , their chances for glory. This

is mine."

'Tis is what you planned all along, isn't it? Find

someone suitable and lure him out fora little duel to the

death here in the garden. I could have been anybody,

anybody at all. "

"As long as you had the proper qualifications, " he

said, tying the last strap on the shin guard.

"I'm not going to let you use me like this," I said

firmly. "You give the computer any signal you want,

blow the house sky high, but I 'm not going to be forced

into fighting a battle, that is completely mad, And also,

Minamoto, suppose I lose?"

He looked up and smiled broadly. It was the first

THE LAST SAMURAI

147

genuine smile I'd seen on his face since I'd met him.

we 'II meet in heaven, ' • he said. He had stnpped

on the one legging, gotten out the second, and was

fitting it around his shin. "Is this how you want to


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blow the house sky high, but I 'm not going to be forced

into fighting a battle, that is completely mad, And also,

Minamoto, suppose I lose?"

He looked up and smiled broadly. It was the first

THE LAST SAMURAI

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genuine smile I'd seen on his face since I'd met him.

we 'II meet in heaven, ' • he said. He had stnpped

on the one legging, gotten out the second, and was

fitting it around his shin. "Is this how you want to

die?" he asked. "In a fit of obstinacy? You have a

chance at survival . .

"What does it matter how I die? Once I'm dead,

that's it."

S *Maybe that's the difference between our two cul-

tures. You don't care how you die, so it doesn't matter

how you live."

I let out a sigh. There was no use in arguing with him.

"All right," I said. "But can't we dispense with the

armor? If we must fight, why prclong it?"

"Very well," he said, putting the one legging aside

and unstrapping the other, "no armor." He picked up

his sword and walked to the center of the arena.

I went over to where he was standing, carrying the

other sword in my hand. "I don't know if I have the

stomach for this," I said when I reached him.

He smiled. then drew back and swung at me with all

his might. I caught his sword on mine and fended it off

with a clang. ' 'Now that it's you or me, it won't be your

stomach telling you what to do," he said.

He sprang back on his muscular legs and rushed me,

swinging like a woodsman. I backed up, blocking his

charge while pulling away from him. After fifteen or

twenty slashes, his momentum ran out and it was my

turn. I charged him, hacking and chopping for all I was

worth, backing him across the gravel.

A samurai sword is like that. It isn 't meant for grace-

fully thrusting and running your victim through. It's

designed to hash a man to hamburger, and that 's pretty

much what we must have looked like, a couple of

butchers going at it.

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NICK CARTER

We charged and retreated, charg«i and retreated like

this f


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turn. I charged him, hacking and chopping for all I was

worth, backing him across the gravel.

A samurai sword is like that. It isn 't meant for grace-

fully thrusting and running your victim through. It's

designed to hash a man to hamburger, and that's pretty

much what we must have looked like, a couple of

butchers going at it.

148

NICK CARTER

We charged and retreated, chargd and retreated like

this for thirty minutes without letting up. I was gushing

sweat. It ran down my back, my arms, and into my

eyes. He refused to lay back and let me kill him. He

wanted to win.

Finally, at the end of one of my short flourishes,

when I'd forced him back as far as I could, I pulled back

for a second, panting. My hands were sweaty and the

sword handle was slipping badly. And yet I had no

more than rubbed my palms on the thighs of my pants

and repositioned my fingers when he was on me again

with a blow from overhead. Then came another and

another. The man's stamina was unbelievable, I

thought. How long could he keep charging me like this?

Minamoto smiled at my disbelief. It was the kind of

smile you wanted to slice in half. I remembered the

basement in Ann Arbor and how he'd kicked me in the

ribs again and again. I knew now there 'd been no reason

for it. He was just being malicious.

He backed me across the arena, swinging from the

right, from the left, overhead, left, left, overhead,

overhead, overhead. I tried holding my sword stiffly in

front of me and letting him hit at it while I looked for

something to repeat itself in his stroke, sornething I

could lay in wait for and exploit. But there wasn't

anything, or my concentration wasn't acute enough to

find it.

On top of everything else, I was running out ofroom.

He had backed me against the wall of greenery that

separated the arena from the reflecting pool below the

tea house. He swung with all his strength, hoping even

if he bounced it off my sword, the force of it and the

bushes behind me would knock me off balance.

J pamed, but I missed the pivot pointofthe blow. His

sword slid down the flat side of my blade and sliced

across my bicep.


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epivotpoin e ow. s

sword slid down the flat side of my blade and sliced

across my bicep.

LAST SAMURAI

149

Blood pumped out like a wellspring. We both stared

at it. Crimson testimony to the mortality ofthis business

we were engaged in. lhe sight of it dripping down my

arm incensed me.

My anger over the high-handed way I had been

manipulated into this situation. being asked to risk my

life in something that was his affair and his affair alone

for no more reason than to placate his twisted vanity,

suddenly boiled to the surface.

I began swinging like an enraged bull. I didn 't care if

I never landed a blow. If I couldn 't cut him, I'd blud-

geon him to death.

He back-pedaled, trying to get away from me, but I

came after him on the run, swinging and slashing with

everything I had. He counter-stroked each blow of mine

(which was amazing considering how fast they were

raining down on him) but my cuts were too strong.

They popped his sword back into his face.

He knew he had to stay out from underneath me,

which meant he couldn 't stand and fight. He had to

keep moving away or take the full force of what I was

dealing him.

I had no intention of letting up. Now that I'd flushed

him I knew I had to finish him off.

We vied around one full circumference of the arena

with no change. I was still coming on strong, although I

could feel myself weakening. It had been a long night

and I 'd already been through more than I cared to

remember.

Finally, we reached the spot where he'd cut my arm.

A bright red stain marked the gravel. Now I had him. I

backed him into the shrubs, hacking at him like a

madman. Like I'd gone crazy.

lhere was no place for him to go. swung and

swung, wearing him down. He kept trying to back up,

but the bushes prevented him.

150

NICK CARTER

He fought valiantly on his tiny square Of ground. but

eventually I proved too much for him. He lost his

balance and fell backward. I raised my sword for the

coup de grace, but he somers


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e grave. ow

bright stam mar

backed him into the shrubs, hacking at him like a

madman. Like I'd gone crazy.

niere was no place for him to go. I swung and

swung, wearing him down. He kept trying to back up,

but the bushes prevented him.

150

NICK CARTER

He fought valiantly on his tiny square of ground, but

eventually I proved too much for him. He lost his

balance and fell backward. I raised my sword for the

coup de grace, but he somersaulted through the bushes

back onto his feet again, knee-deep in the reflecting

pool.

I didn •t even think. I reached down and grabbed one

of the florescent light fixtures which were wired in a

loose series along the floor and threw it in.

He howled like an animal when the voltage hit him.

The lights went black, except for a string in the ceiling

that must have been on a different circuit. Ihe water

bubbled and he stood stock still, his eyes starting out of

his head. He opened his mouth to scream again, but

nothing came out. Just his cheek muscles shook. In a

few seconds the sense was gone from behind his eyes.

He'd gotten what he wanted. He was dead.

I picked up the fixture by the wire and pulled it out of

the water. Ihe body hesitated a moment, then the knees

buckled and it fell into the water on its shoulder, the

face submerged.

I waded in and rolled the body face up. The eyes still

stared blankly and the mouth, frozen open, was par-

tially filled with water.

I took a hold under the armpits and pulled him out

onto the gravel. Then, laying him on his back, I used

Hugo to cut the wet knot of the sash and the buttons off

the shirt. Under the shirt was an undergarment of a

material that did not cut easily when wet, so I quickly

stripped off the kimono and the white outer shirt and

pulled the undershirt up over his head.

It was then I noticed something peculiar about his

arms. Each had a long thin scar that completely encir-

cled it just below the shoulder joint. The scars were too

neat and identical to have been the result of an accident.

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esasliåhdth ons o

the shirt. Under the shirt was an undergarment of a

material that did not cut easily when wet, so I quickly

stripped off the kimono and the white outer shirt and

pulled the undershirt up over his head.

It was then I noticed something peculiar about his

arms. Each had a long thin scar that completely encir-

cled it just below the shoulder joint. ne scars were too

neat and identical to have been the result of an accident.

THE LAST SAMURAI

151

He'd had surgery there, although I couldn't imagine

why.

Right now, though, I was too preoccupied to wonder

about it. I was looking for something else. I examined

the front of the top haJfof the body and found it—in the

flesh below the ribcage on the right side, a darkened

square of skin.

The light was bad, the enormity ofthe room being lit

by a handful of hundred-watt bulbs, but then the work

didn 't have to be cosmetic. Taking Hugo like a pencil, I

stippled an incision down the side and across the front

of the darkened area, until I'd made a long crimson

"L" just above the muscle layer. Then I lifted the

corner and took out a bloodied sack of surgical

polyurethane. Inside was a hard lump.

I walked over to the pond and washed it off. Then I

opened the sack with Hugo's razor edge, squeezed out

the lump and laid it in the palm of my hand: a piece of

computerized plastic no bigger than a dime.

squinted at it in the light. There was no way of

knowing if this was a copy or the real thing, and if

genuine, if it had any value. But I'd come by it hard,

fought through obstacle after obstacle to get it, and I

wasn't about to leave it behind. This and something

much more intangible—an affirmation of my faith in

my own abilities.

I slipped the chip into the breast pocket of my shirt

and buttoned it. qhen I wiped Hugo against my trouser

leg. I was about to put him back into his sheath when I

noticed again the incisions that had been made on the

upper arms. In the dim light the scars were the same

ghostly noncolor as the tissue masses that bulged from

either temple.

Could he have severed both arms, I wondered? Not

likely.


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either temple.

Could he have severed both arms, I wondered? Not

likely.

152

NICK CARTER

I stoorrd down and began to do some more minor

surgery. I cut a line along the scar on the left arm about

half way around. Then I made another incision just like

it six inches lower and connected them with a third cut

down the soft underann. nen I peeled back the skin.

Underneath it looked like the insides of a sewing.

machine.

Bionic implants. So much for his amazing endur-

ance. And so much for kicking myself for not being

able to best him in Ann Arbor. In reality the man was an

insufferable bully.

My curiosity piqued, I cut open one of the lumps on

the side of the head. More circuitry, as I'd expected,

and then something I didn't expect, Beneath a flap of

skin, running from one temple around the back of the

head to its twin on the opposite side was a fine steel wire

insulated with plastic. An antenna, J thought. nis

meant he must have been in mental contact with his

computer all the time, although I had no idea how he 'd

managed it.

Minamoto's superpowers thus laid bare, I stood up

and put Hugo away. 'Ihen I walked over and picked up

my sword, which I had left lying on the gravel, and

carried it over to where its sheath still leaned with the

suits of annor against the stone benches. I had decided

to it with me. Several days from now, when I had

awakened from my long, well-deserved sleep, it would

prove to me all this had been more than just a bad

With the chip in my breast pocket and the sword in

hand, I went back to the sliding panel, which as far as I

could see was the only exit. It stood open. Apparently,

now that Minamoto was dead, the computer saw no

reason to keep me prisoner.

In the next room the lights were still on and water still

THE LAST SAMURAI

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flowed in the stream. I walked down the path to the fc»t

of the bridge, then down the embankment to where I'd


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With the chip in my breast pocket and the sword in

hand, I went back to the sliding panel, which as far as I

could see was the only exit. It stood open. Apparently,

now that Minamoto was dead, the computer saw no

reason to keep me prisoner.

In the next room the lights were still on and water still

THE LAST SAMURAI

153

flowed in the stream. I walked down the path to the fc»t

of the bridge, then down the embankment to where I'd

left Benkei lying. Only he wasn't there.

Broken pieces of black plastic still lay on the rock

where he'd crushed his face and one of his sandals

dangled from the low-hanging rubber foliage down-

stream. But the robot was gone. I looked through the

shrubs on my side, then waded across and checked the

other. From the condition of the sand on the far bank a

heavy-set man in crepe-soled shoes had dragged some-

thing from the water, then picked it up and carried it,

I followed his footprints through the artificial bushes

and trees until they entered the path and I lost them.

Then I began searching the path on both sides to the

bridge and back again to see if at any point they left the

path.

This was very disconcerting. There was no telling

who had walked off with it. It could have been some-

body connected with Minamoto, or some third party

who followed me in.

When I returned to my starting point after having

searched in both directions, it struck me that whoever it

was might still be in the room, watching and wondering

if he was going to have to kill me. I stopped walking and

listened. Below the bubbling of the stream water,

below even the hum of the air rushing in the ducts of the

ventilation system, there was a whirring sound, like the

spinning of a rotor in a small electrical device. It

sounded familiar. I'd heard it before, but I couldn't

remember where or when.

I went through the sliding panel into the room where

I'd fought the dragon. He was still there. big as a small

house, looking like a side-show freak with a sword

stuck in one mouth and another mouth biting it.

As soon as I came through the opening, I pressed my

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NICK CARTER


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As soon as I came through the opemng. presse my

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NICK CARTER

I

back flat against the wall near the door and slowly drew

out the sword. I held my breath and listened for move-

ment in the other room. Nothing. Only the whirring

sound that I still couldn 't place. It seemed that now I 'd

identified it. I was hearing it everywhere,

I waited for several minutes, both hands ready on the

sword hilt, but no one came. Finally, I rushed the door

and stood in the empty opening, my gaze darting from

corner to corner in the rck)rn I 'd just left, but no one was

in sight.

I untensed my muscles and let the sword fall. Maybe

I was alone, I thought. Just me and the dragon, and that

damned noise. Then I realized the sound was different

here than it had been in the room with the stream. It was

coming from a different direction. In fact, it was com-

ing from the wall directly behind the dragon.

I walked over and laid my hand on the plaster from

where it seemed to me the sound was originating. It was

faint, but then the building was deathly quiet. I took out

Hugo and began tapping, looking for hollow spaces.

Two taps and I realized that what confronted me was

not a wall at all, but plaster on fabric stretched over a

frame. I cut through the fabric and peeled it back.

Behind it was a niche and in the niche a movie camera

whirred incessantly. It was set on a tripod and attached

to a cable so it could be panned in any direction by

remote control.

Then I remembered where I 'd heard the sound of one

of these cameras before. It was in the basement of the

apartment house in Ann Arbor just before my initial

contact with Minamoto.

I turned the camera around, unsnapped the rear com-

partment and pulled out the film casette. It was a Bashe,

like the one I'd sent to the lab. I unbuttoned the flap of

my breast pocket and was about to slip it in next to the

THE LAST SAMURAI

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microprocessor when something hard, about the consis-

tency of a gun butt, hit the back of my head.

My knees failed and I fell to the floor. I rolled over

and pulled myself onto all fours, staring at the floor


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era aroun , unsnapped the rear com-

partment and pulled out the film casette. It was a Bashe,

like the one I'd sent to the lab. I unbuttoned the flap of

my breast pocket and was about to slip it in next to the

THE LAST SAMURAI

155

microprocessor when something hard, about the consis-

tency of a gun butt, hit the back of my head.

My knees failed and I fell to the floor. I rolled over

and pulled myself onto all fours, staring at the floor

boards, my head doing barrel rolls. I tried to get up, but

another blow a few inches above my neck finished the

job. I and laid out face up, my head resting on

the terrible hot place where I 'd been hit. "Ihen the pain,

the light, the whirring noise everything—ceased.


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Seventeen

I came to the way I'd been trained to, letting con-

sciousness flow into my body, giving no outward sign I

was awake. I was stretched out on a narrow bed, my

head throbbing like a bass drum.

With one eye I surveyed the room. Small with plain

white walls and wood floor, with nothing in it but the

bed I was on and a nondescript table. At the table in a

rumpled white suit sat a man reading a newspaper. As

he tumed the page, he tiPIEd his face in my direction.

There was no mistaking that mug. It was Lo Sin.

Behind him was the door, a plain, solid-wood affair

with a dead bolt læk. It was closed. He turned another

page and I saw the blue-black barrel of a .38 revolver

that lay on the table a few inches from his hand.

I rolled over and gave out a grunt.

'Good. You 're awake, " he said, casting a glance in

my direction. He turned another page and held it be-

tween his plump fingers, perusing the back of it. "So,

we meet again, " he went on in that obnoxiously polite

way of his. "Ordinarily, it might be pleasant finding a

158

157

NICK CARTER

familiar face in these strange surroundings, but may r

say that your face, Carter, is becoming most dreadfully

tedious. ' •

I sat up and put my feet on the floor. "How long have


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tween his plump fingers, perusing the back of it. "So,

we meet again, " he went on in that obnoxiously polite

way of his. "Ordinarily, it might be pleasant finding a

158

157

NICK CARTER

I

familiar face in these strange surroundings, but may r

say that your face, Carter, is becoming most dreadfully

tedious. ' •

I sat up and put my feet on the floor. "How long have

I been out?" I asked, rubbing the back of my head.

"Several hours. "

I felt a lump under my hair the size of a baby •s fist. It

was going to be tender back there for quite a while.

"You were supposed to freeze to death," I said.

*SWhat happened? You manage to convince those

Sherpas that money was more important than some old

monk's curse?"

"Let's just say I was able to persuade one of my

guides that leaving a man in a mountain pass twenty

thousand feet above sea-level without food or a tent for

protection was a barbaric practice."

'How much of your ill-gotten gold did it cost you? '

He didn't answer. I laughed even though it hurt.

g 'You were lucky. "

"We shall see what was luck, Mr. Carter, " he said

coldly, hunching over his newspaper again.

"So what's your angle this time?"

' 'Must you always suspect me? " he asked, not look-

ing up.

'Come off it. You wouldn 't wish your own mother a

happy birthday if there wasn 't something in it for you. I

should've known there was more to this than just some

nut's attempt at suicide. Why'd you hit me anyway?"

' 'I didn't hit you. "

"Somebody did. "

"You were about to muck up some carefully laid

plans. "

A soft tapping rattled the door. Lo Sin got up to

answer it, keeping his front to me, the revolver in his

hand.

firough the crack I saw a long-haired Chinese youth

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standing in the hall. He lmked like the kid I'd chased

down the basement steps in Ann Arbor. On his feet, I

noticed, were dirty, crerr-soled shoes. They spoke in

Mandarin.

S'ShalI I bring it now?" asked the kid.

"Yes." said Lo Sin. "Hess awake."

Then Lo Sin closed the door, and without looking at

me sat back down, put the gun on the table and returned

to his reading. There was the faintest play ofa smile on

his lips.

"You haven't told me why I got hit," I said.

"Carter, I don 't mean to be uncivil, " he said, putting

down the paper and fixing a look on me, ' 'but I clearly

have the upper hand for once and you have no choice

but to patient. " With that he turned back to his

newspaper and ignored me, leaving me wondering.

Time passed. Two minutes, maybe three. Not long

enough for me to figure a means of escape. nen

another knock came at the door. This time he stood up

and pointed the gun at me. "Get it," he said.

"Why? I'm sure it's for you. "

' 'mn't be smart," he said, brandishing the gun

between me and the door. "Answer it. "

S Give me a minute." I got slowly to my feet. I

hadn't been vertical for a while and I wasn't feeling

very steady.

I leaned on the table for support. This brought me

within a foot of his gun hand. I was about to make a grab

for it when he moved back along the wall.

"Who is it you're so anxious to have me see?"

"Never mind. Just open it. "

I put my hand on the knob, but I didn't turn it. I

couldn't imagine what was on the other side. The

Chinese kid with a pistol waiting to blow my head off?

' 'Go on," he coaxed. "It won't hurt you. Not yet,

160

NICK CARTER

1 pulled the door open, At first I flinched, then I

stared unable to believe my eyes. Standing noncha-

lantly in the doorway, his hands clasped calmly in front

of him, was a man who looked exactly like me.

"May I come in?" he asked, smiling.

' 'Nick Carter, meet Nick Carter," Lo Sin


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couldn't imagine what was on the other s e.

e

Chinese kid with a pistol waiting to blow my head off?

' 'Go on," he coaxed. "It won't hurt you. Not yet,

160

NICK CARTER

1 pulled the door open, At first I flinched, then I

stared unable to believe my eyes. Standing noncha-

lantly in the doorway, his hands clasped calmly in front

of him, was a man who looked exactly like me.

"May I come in?" he asked, smiling.

' 'Nick Carter, meet Nick Carter," Lo Sin

from behind me, obviously enjoying this joke.

I was too amazed to speak. He was perfect: same

eyes, same cleft chin. He even had short whiskers

growing where I sometimes have trouble shaving.

"Strains your credibility, does it, Carter?" laughed

Lo Sin. "Your eyes bulging? I don't think ltd ever see

the great Nick Carter so completely taken by surprise. "

"Is he for real?" I asked, the words coming out of

me in an awed whisper.

"Show him," Lo Sin demanded. The man opened

his coat, which was identical to the one I'd been wear-

ing earlier, and pulled his shin out ofhis pants. Then he

triggered a catch in his waist and a door swung in

his stomach. Behind the was a battery pack.

"Actually," Lo Sin explained, "he's better than

real. He d(Esn 't eat. Just recharge him every other day

and he 's as good as new. This was grounds for another

eruption of laughter. I sank onto the bed, staring dumb-

ly. When he was through enjoying himself, Lo Sin

harshly ordered the robot to sit down. Ihe robot duti-

fully sat in a chair behind the table.

"It's uncanny," I said.

'*Minamoto was a genius!" exclaimed Lo Sin.

"Look at those eyes. Look into them. Would you ever

believe he wasn't alive?"

The robot's eyes were a clear blue, like my own.

Every hair, every crease was copied there, even a scar

that had caused a small bald spot in my left brow. But I

saw right away whatLo Sin was talking about, It wasn •t

the physical similarity. In the alteration of their size and

THE LAST SAMURAI

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the mercurial changes of the brows around them, the

eyes seemed to be capable of the most subtle expres-


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eyes.

Into em. oul you ever

believe he wasn't alive?"

The robot's eyes were a clear blue, like my own.

Every hair, every crease was copied there, even a scar

that had caused a small bald spot in my left brow. But I

saw right away whatLo Sin was talking about, It wasn •t

the physical similarity. In the alteration of their size and

THE LAST SAMURAI

161

the mercurial changes of the brows around them, the

eyes seemed to be capable of the most subtle expres-

sion. As I stared, the robot blinked back at me with

benign non-personality.

"What do you he's worth?" asked Lo Sin

excitedly. "A million? Ten million? Is there any limit

to what you could ask for him?" He, too, stared at the

robot, his narrow (Yiental eyes wide with greed.

The room seemed to have been divided down an

imaginary line: Lo Sin and I on one side, gawking with

wonder and fascination at the on the other.

' 'Tell him who you are and who made you," Lo Sin

demanded, waving the gun at the robot.

The machine smiled politely, an expression so like

my own, it made me wince. Master created me

after ten years of effort, begun in the late months of

1971 and only just now finished. I was the second unit

of a group of twenty, eighteen of which remain uncom-

pleted. I was constructed as a gift for Master Lo Sin and

I am programmed to follow any order he gives me.

When he sells me as he plans, I will be reprogrammed

to follow the orders of whomever Master Lo Sin

choses."

I turned to look at Lo Sin. "He's grotesque," I said.

'You don 't actually think you 're going to fool anybody

this puppet, do you?"

with this . .

lhe big Ginaman moved around in front of me and

sat his heavy frame down draping one hip over the edge

of the table. The gun rested casually against the crease

where his trousers pulled tautly across his thigh.

"Of course, I will, dear boy. Not forever, perhaps,

but for a while. Long enough. Think of him not as a

robot, but as a guided missile, able to gain access to

places where only you and you alone can go. Always

armed to the teeth, but acting on the orders of whoever

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NICK CARTER

' 'You mean Washington?"

"It's a possibility. Mind you, it would take a good

deal of money to get me to part with him, but there are

those who would pay dearly to see certain friends of

yours eliminated. "

I thought of the casual way I often walked into

Hawk 's office, the way he sometimes stood gazing out

the window when he greeted me.

"And this was your brainchild, s' I said grimly, "ten

years in the making. "

' 'That's right. I met Minamoto ten years ago, when

he was living like a Spartan in the mountains above

Osaka. His army had been taken away from him. He

was on the verge of throwing himself into the sea. I'd

heard of him through my usual sources and you know

my penchant for things out of the ordinary. When I

found him, he was everything I'd been told he was and

more. When I saw Benkei waiting on him hand and foot

and realized he was bionic and not human, I knew I'd

discovered a gold mine. Why a character out of

Japanese folklore? I asked myself. Why not a real man?

' 'Minamoto pointed out the difficulties involved and

we hit on this plan to iron them out, whereby he'd get

what he wanted and 1 •d get what I wanted. You see, in

order to program a bionic replica indistinguishable

from the real thing, precise measurements have to be

taken. Movements have to be broken down into their

components, nervous habits have to be carefully blue-

printed. The voice, every aspect of a man's physical

presence has to be minutely duplicated. It is an enor-

mous job. Fortunately, the romance of dying like an

ancient samurai and doing his bit to undermine the

*stranglehold of the West, as he called it, appealed to

Minamoto, and he was more than happy to go along

with what I had in mind.

you see, every move you made here and in Ann

LAST SAMURAI

163

was carefully monitored with cameras and other

devices. Then the information was analyzed and broken

down in the computer. Once we had the machine, it had

to be programmed to act like you."

The robot sat listening to the story of his creation


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ojng IS It to un mine the

*stranglehold of the West, as he called it, appealed to

Minamoto, and he was more than happy to go along

with what I had in mind.

you see, every move you made here and in Ann

LAST SAMURAI

163

was carefully monitored with cameras and other

devices. Then the information was analyzed and broken

down in the computer. Once we had the machine, it had

to be programmed to act like you."

The robot sat listening to the story of his creation

with a bland, passive smile.

"And I messed things up when I found the camera, '

I said.

"You severed a critical link in the plan. There was a

lapse of three weeks from the time we took the inforrna-

tion to the time the programming would be complete.

This was made doubly difficult in that we had to do it

without Minamoto's help. WPhich meant we weren't

going to make the switch here at the castle. nere was

an accident planned, A munitions truck in Riyadh

would inexplicably explode. You wouldn 't survive, but

our friend here would. But it was essential you left

tonight thinking this affair was over and done with.

When you found the camera and took the film, you left

us no choice . . "

s •I see. And now that you 've told me all this, you 're

equally obliged to . .

*'Precisely." Lo Sin smiled and let the heft of the

gun bounce against his thigh. "We'll have to speed up

the programming, but I 've been informed diis won't

present any insurmountable problem."

' 'And you intend to just blast me in the head with that

cannon? As artfully as all that? After all this time, can 't

you come up with something more inventive?"

A grin spread slowly across Lo Sin •s face. a horrible

grin that split his lips away from two rows of bad teeth

and gathered fat from his cheeks and jowls before it was

completed. ' 'As a matter of fact, a rather novel idea has

occurred to me, i' he said. "Your expression when you

opened that door and saw your own face staring back at

ou so tickled me

164

. . . honestly, Carter, Ihaven'thada

NICK CARTER

good belly-laugh like that in years .

cided to let our friend Dull the tn

that I've de


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you come up with something more inventive?"

A grin spread slowly across Lo Sin •s face. a horrible

grin that split his lips away from two rows of bad teeth

and gathered fat from his cheeks and jowls before it was

completed. ' 'As a matter of fact, a rather novel idea has

occurred to me, i' he said. "Your expression when you

opened that door and saw your own face staring back at

ousotickledme. . . honestly, Carter, Ihaven'thada

164

NICK CARTER

good belly-laugh like that in years .

that I've de

cided to let our friend pull the trigger. I think it shoul

be highly amusing to see you killed by your own

hand. "

Jid figured something like this. It was just the kind of

macabre twist that would to Lo Sin. But it had/

dawned on me, too, that between them there was onl

one weapon, which meant at some Lo Sin was

going to have to hand the gun to the robot. At the time o

transfer they would be vulnerable, tkcause it is impos-

sibleto hand someone a gun and aim it at the same time.

I had been watching his movements with the gun f

the last several minutes. Everytime he waved it around

my heart jumped. I poured every thought into obtaining

that weapon. I wanted it. My survival depended on it.

Lo Sin stood and turned to walk around behind the

table, taking the gun from his right hand and putting it

nn his left, talking all the while: "So, my young

friend," he said, referring to the robot, "the time is at

hand for you to come of age. '

So saying, he moved t*hind the chair until he was

standing behind and above the still-seated machine. He

held the gun in front of the robot's face with the left

hand so it could grab it with its right, still pointed at me.

Ihe robot sat listening to what Lo Sin was saying, his

eyes focusing first on the gun, then on me. Then he

reached out his hand to take hold of the butt, all this

happening in a split-second's time.

It was the moment of truth , now or never, I lashed out

with my right foot to kick the table into their faces and

occupy them while I charged, hopefully to gain control

of a gun that would be up for grabs.

My foot hit the table, but the table didn't moved,

There was a thud when the legs of it lifted an inch or so

then snapped back to the floor. I looked to see what had

happened and the robot was smiling at me, both hands


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then snapped back to the floor. I looked to see what had

happened and the robot was smiling at me, both hands

THE LAST SAMURAI

165

flat on the table top and a portion of his weight holding

it down.

LD Sin was grinning from ear to ear. "I should have

warned you, Carter. He knows all your tricks and can

anticipate your every move. He 's also stronger, faster.

In a way, he's a kind of a super-you."

Let him anticipate this, I thought, and dived for the

floor coming up with the table on my back. *Ihe gun

discharged. The powder burned all the way down my

spine as the slug ripped into the mattress me. I

grabbed the bottom of the table in both hands and

pushed it up, throwing the two of them against the wall.

Lo Sin got the worst of it. Ihe robot was somewhat

protected by his bulk.

' 'Carter!' • Lo Sin shouted, his voice strained by the

fact his face was being squeezed against the wall.

"Give it up! *Ihis is hopeless!

Lo Sin had been standing when I hit him with the

table, so I had the top half of his body and both his arms

pinned. But the robot had been sitting, and although I

knocked the chair over, only his shoulders and head

were caught. I fully expected him to slip out the side of

my makeshift vice. This didn't worry me. He wasn't

armed. It was Lo Sin with the gun who was the problem

and I had all my weight holding him at bay.

But the robot didn't slip out. He reached out from

under the table top and smacked the underside with the

side of his hand.

I wondered what he was up to. But I'd no more than

gotten the thought in my head, than he 'd hit it again and

splinters ofwood started flying. One more hit and I saw

a }ktfectly good oak table being laid to waste. The time

had come, I decided, to make a hasty retreat.

I dropped the table and made a rush for the door, but

I the robot's legs, which were splayed out in a '

me u and I overshot it. I regained my balance

166

NICK CARTER

against the wall, only by this time the robot, with

incredible agility, had pulled himself to his feet.

lhere wasn't time to be fancy. I put my arms out in

front of me to push him out of the way. He swept my


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splinters Ofw stan ytng. emore an sa

a }ktfectly good oak table being laid to waste. The time

had come, I decided, to make a hasty retreat.

I dropped the table and made a rush for the door, but

I the robot's legs, which were splayed out in a '

me u and I overshot it. I regained my balance

166

NICK CARTER

I

against the wall, only by this time the robot, with

incredible agility, had pulled himself to his feet.

lhere wasn't time to be fancy. I put my arms out in

front of me to push him out of the way. He swept my

arms aside and reared back for a haymaker aimed at my

jaw that, combined with the speed my head was mov-

ing toward it, would have broken my jaw and cheek-

bone, too.

Luckily, I ducked and it glanced off my head, and

while it didn't feel great, it didn't do the damage he

thought it was going to.

he missed, it threw him off balance to the

outside. I kept coming and my momentum pushed him

a little further in that direction, right into Lo Sin, who

was still trying to collect himself after his ordeal with

the wall and having had a table dropped on the tops of

his feet. They collided and while they were trying to

untangle themselves. I threw open the door and dashed

out into the hall.

"Carter! I'll kill you! " Lo Sinis voice reverberated

down the corridor. A shot boomed and the bullet split

wood in the support beam a few feet ahead of me.

I ran around the corner and saw two figures hurrying

down the hall in my direction, the Chinese kid and

another Oriental in a white lab coat. I ducked back and

flattened myself against the wall. They hastened around

the corner, half-running in response to Lo Sin's shouts

and the gun shot they 'd heard. I held my breath and they

went right past me. nen I slipped around and headed

up the hall in the direction from which they'd come.


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Eighteen

I ran for fifteen minutes without a rest, down halls

and up stairs, checking over my shoulder every few

seconds to make sure Lo Sin and his crew weren 't

gaining on me.

I was no longer in the part of the house where I'd

drunk tea and fought with Minamoto. I'd vaulted across

a courtyard a few minutes ago and entered the castle

tower, or "keep," as it's called in Japan.

Things here were radically different. lhe halls were

low-ceilinged, wide, and unlit, and the walls, what

there were of them, were rice paper panels, the type the

Japanese traditionally use to divide their houses. But

for the most part, there were no walls, just railings of

roughly-hewn wood strung between support beams en-

I closing large empty spaces.

It was this way floor after floor. I was getting higher

and higher in this part of the house and there didn't

seem to be any change. Whenever I stopped to listen, I

heard them on the floor below. And I was fast running

out of stairs to climb.

168

167

NICK CARTER

Finally, from a long, deserted hall, dark because it

was on the side of the house, I tumed the

comer into another hall, this one lit by a long window

through which the moon beamed. I stopped running

when I got to the window and stood holding on to the

sill. panting. I needed a moment to catch my breath.


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NICK CARTER

Finally, from a long, deserted hall, dark because it

was on the side of the house, I tumed the

comer into another hall, this one lit by a long window

through which the moon beamed. I stopped running

when I got to the window and stood holding on to the

sill. panting. I needed a moment to catch my breath.

lhe way I saw it, I had two choices: get out and get

help or stay and try to figure out a way to detonate the

dynamite charges in the foundation footings, the ones

Minamoto had talked about shortly before he died.

If I got out, I doubted I'd make it back before they 'd

all fled, equipment and everything, which meant there

was a possibility I might lose track of my bionic dupli-

cate. Under no circumstances -could I allow that to

happen.

On the other hand, those dynarnite charges had been

weighing on my mind since I 'd first heard about them.

With the simple flip of a switch, I could destroy the

house and everything in it. There was something in the

neatness of that that appealed to me. The trick came in

finding the switch and figuring out a way to flip it. That

was, provided Minamoto wasn't just blowing out hot

air when he threatened me.

I heard their fcx)tfalls thudding in the hallway behind

me and took off again. I hung a right down a hall lined

with a bank of windows all casting a square of moon-

light on the then another right into one that was

dark. Soon, I knew I should come to a staircase that

would take me to the next level. I realized that by this

time there couldn't be too many levels left, but 1

thought there should be at least one more. lhe only

problem was I'd already traversed three-fourths of the

tower's perimeter and still hadn't seen any stairs. Then

I came around a corner and saw something obscured bv

the shadows. I'd almost run right past it.

THE LAST SAMURAI

169

As a staircase, it was much narrower than the stairs

on other levels. lhere four men might have past

ly room for me.

was


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ere cou n t e too many levels left, but 1

thought there should be at least one more. lhe only

problem was I'd already traversed three-fourths of the

tower's perimeter and still hadn't seen any stairs. Then

I came around a corner and saw something obscured bv

the shadows. I'd almost run right past it.

THE LAST SAMURAI

169

As a staircase, it was much narrower than the stairs

on other levels. lhere four men might have past

abreast. Here there was barely room for me.

At the top of the stairs was a locked doon I slammed

it with my shoulder and it flew open. Inside the room

was small and dark, but the outside walls were all

window. It was apparent. though I couldn't see much,

that it had been inhabited not too long ago. Ther was a

desk in the middle of the floor and bookcases against

one wall.

I didn't have time to examine any of this, however. I

heard them coming on the floor below, and I had to find

a place to hide, quickly.

There was no glass in the window, just a broad

shutter hinged at the top and held open by several

long-necked hooks fastened to the eaves outside.

I reached out and pulled down hard on the shutter. The

hinges creaked from disuse, but it felt solid. I stood up

in the window, got a good grip on the shutter's frame,

and stepped out into empty space. For a second I dan-

gled at the end of the shutter like a water drop at the end

of a wet knife-blade, a cold wind whipping the shirt

against my back. Two hundred feet below me, craggy

rocks waited like gnarled teeth.

I turned myself around and worked my way down

hand over hand to where one of the iron hooks held the

shutter open, I latched on to the bottom of it with one

hand and got the other hand around it a few inches

higher. Ihen I heard the sickening sound of metal

wrenching out of wood.

I looked up and my stomach sank when I saw an inch

of the hook's threading had been torn from its anchor.

My weight was too much for it.

My only was to my weight and take

some of the burden off this one corner. Frantically, I

J 70

NICK CARTER


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NICK CARTER

began to pull up until I could get a leg over and a hand in

the eaves. I put the tips of the fingers of my other hand

into the crevice where the shutter was hinged and

hauled myself onto the back of it, placing the sides of

my shoes on a narrow strip of wood along the bottom.

I made it without a second to spare. I 'd just managed

to sidestep my way out to the middle to avoid it collaps-

ing under me, when they burst into the room, Lo Sin,

the duplicate, the Chinese kid, and three or four others.

They turned on the light and began searching.

I was right. It was some kind of study, probably

Minamoto's. They rummaged through the closets,

pulled the bookcases from the wall, and looked under

the desk. Then they shook their heads.

door's been forced. He must be in here," Lo

Sin said in gruff Chinese. "You wait and keep watch,'

he told the robot. "Ihe rest of you come with me."

They hustled out and the robot sat down in the desk

chair. I spied between my handholds on the crevice,

anxious to see what he would do when left alone.

'Thirty seconds passed. He sat bolt upright in the

chair, staring forward. A minute, two minutes. He

stirred not a muscle.

He was listening, I was sure of it. And his hearing

was probably better than any human 's. I wondered if he

could pick out the rise and fall of my breathing through

the hum of the wind and the sound of the surf splashing

below us.

I didn't dare move. The least creak of the shutter's

hinges might tip him off, and I didn't need more than

one demonstration of his amazing strength to know I

didn 't want to tangle with him unless it was necessary.

So we waited, like a mouse being stalked by a blind cat,

until I heard a sound like metal straining. I looked down

and saw the weakened hook about to pull loose.

THE LAST SAMURAI

171

I watched the robot anxiously , u-ying to determine if

he had heard it, t(X). *Ihen I watched the hook. It was

pulling out, this time silently, a millimeter at a time.

Another few seconds and it would give way. There was

no telling if the other hook would hold if this one gave


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So we waited, like a mouse being stalked by a blind cat,

until I heard a sound like metal straining. I looked down

and saw the weakened hook about to pull loose.

THE LAST SAMURAI

171

I watched the robot anxiously , u-ying to determine if

he had heard it, t(X). *Ihen I watched the hook. It was

pulling out, this time silently, a millimeter at a time.

Another few seconds and it would give way. There was

no telling if the other hook would hold if this one gave

out, but my guess was it wouldn •t—which meant in a

short time I was going to be sliding off my perch and

swan-diving two hundred feet to my death, unless I did

something fast.

Lo Sin suddenly walked in the study door and

motioned to the robot. "Come with me, " he said. "He

fcx)led us. He must have broken the door, then hid in the

shadows when we came in. Quickly, we have no time to

lose. "

The robot followed him out without a word, leaving

the door open and the lights on.

Ihey weren't gone more than a second, when the

hook pulled free and the other snapped right after it. I

plummeted off the rough wood and would have nose

dived into the jagged rocks below, had I not managed to

hold on to a thin strip of molding along the bottom of the

shutter.

I hung by my fingertips, my heart beating in my

mouth. Below in the moonlight the waves coiled and

uncoiled on the rocks.

I had to act fast. My fingers weren 't going to hold on

forever. By bouncing myself against the side of the

tower, I was able to pull the shutter far enough from the

window to put my thumbs underneath. •nen I slid my

hands along the bottom of the frame, working my way

back to the corner. fiis was an agonizing I

reached my goal just as my fingers began to cramp.

The object I had in mind was a short strut which

supported the gable that jutted out over the window. It

was quite a bit below the window, but I figured if I

172

NICK CARTER

could get my feet on it, at least I wouldn't be in danger

of falling.


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window to put my thumbs underneath. en s my

hands along the bottom of the frame, working my way

back to the corner. fiis was an agonizing I

reached my goal just as my fingers began to cramp.

The object I had in mind was a short strut which

supported the gable that jutted out over the window. It

was quite a bit below the window, but I figured if I

172

NICK CARTER

I

could get my feet on it, at least I wouldn't be in danger

of falling.

J got one foot in the V the strut made with the side of

the building, but it was the wrong foot. It was the right,

which left me plastered against the rough shingles with

my hands hooked on the bottom of the shutter and one

foot stretched way to one side. It was an impossible

position.

With a little more maneuvering I managed to extend

myself out even further on the shutter frame and hook

my calf and eventually my knee into the strut. From

there it was sheer strength alone that got me uprights

straddling the strut, and looking down at the choppy

surf of the Mediterranean.

I was still a long way from being out of this mess. I

stood as best I could and reached for the window. The

only problem now was the shutter. It hung down in

front of the opening, and while I could get my hand on

the sill, the shutter prevented me from swinging myself

in. lhe only solution was to put one hand on the

window and the other on the frame inside the shutter

and just muscle my way up.

It was equivalent to an iron cross on the standing

rings, but not impossible. I got a good grip, making

sure my hands were dry, then heaved with all my

strength. The muscles pulled taut, those in my arms and

down both my sides.

I raised myself until the top of my head was level

with the sill, but I needed to go further to where I could

bend my body and pull my legs up.

I was close, but not quite there, when a familiar pain

began to grow in my side. It was the point of contact

where Minamoto had kicked me in Ann Arbor what

seemed like eons ago. My body began to quiver. I was

losing it. Suddenly I let go and fell back onto the strut,


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e y et go and fell back onto the strut,

THE LAST SAMURAI

173

still holding the shutter in one hand and the sill in the

other.

For a minute or more all I did was pant and lay with

my feet dangling. My muscles felt as though somebody

had tried to pull them out of their tendons. I looked

down and watched the waves crash into the rcxks be-

low, like a mouth forever opening and closing. I knew I

was going to have to try it again. It was just a matter of

building up the momentum and strength.

Several minutes went by. I took a deep breath and

up. ms time, I told myself, I wasn't going to

play it safe by keeping my feet on the strut until the last

minute. It only hindered my balance. I was going to

have to just dangle, and if I didn't make it, then the

disaster would be complete.

I took hold again and stepped off the strut. Now it

was just and the window and two hundred feet of

empty space. I pulled with everything I had, pushing

the shutter out away from the window at the same time

that I raised my head.

It was tparable this time. I was higher. I could see

into the room. My whole body was shaking with the

effort. I tucked into a pike position and threw both legs

over at once,

I hit the floor rather awkwardly, half my body out-

side of the sill, the lower half in, but I was safe. I

straightened up and looked around in the light.

The furnishings in the room fit with Minamoto's idea

of himself as the warrior prince. Everything was cut

down to the minimum, simple shelves, drafting table,

chair, desk, reading lamp. It seemed odd that Lo Sin

hadn't wrecked the place looking for me, but then I

remembered at times he was capable of Feculiar little

acts of respect, like the way he must have deholstered

Wilhelmina while I was unconscious, satisfied himself

174

NICK CARTER

she was empty, then returned hen She'd been there

when I woke up, riding under my arm just as always.

I went around to the desk and started rummaging

through drawers. I needed a gun, and although chances


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chair, desk, reading lamp. t seem

at

In

hadn't wrecked the place looking for me, but then I

remembered at times he was capable of Feculiar little

acts of respect, like the way he must have deholstered

Wilhelmina while I was unconscious, satisfied himself

174

NICK CARTER

I

she was empty, then returned hen She'd been there

when I woke up, riding under my arm just as always.

I went around to the desk and started rummaging

through drawers. I needed a gun, and although chances

were good Minamoto didn't even own such a thing. I

had to give the place a once-over just to make sure.

ne first drawer contained writing materials, pens.

paper, paper clips, erasers. ne second, more paper,

investment brochures, keys of various kinds. I grabbed

these and stuffed them in my pocket. ney might come

in handy if I ran into a lock I couldn't open.

"Ihe bottom drawer was more interesting. It was

packed with newspaper clippings. I began looking

through them and they read like an AXE scrapbook.

Every article dealt with an assignment the agency had

tackled over the last ten years. And in every case I'd

played some part. It was all there in detail.

So Minamoto'd done his homework. I threw the

clippings back in a heap and slammed the drawer. Ihen

I pulled the chair aside and the thin middle

drawer just under the desk top. I'd skipped this one

because I thought it was too narrow for a revolver,

There was nothing inside but an old book, placed

squarely in the center of the drawer, and so obviously

and deliberately situated in that spot, that I thought for

sure it was booby-trapped i

I carefully flipped over the front cover. It was a copy

of the haiku-sinatori, an epic Japanese poem. It was for

the samurai what The Iliad was for the Greeks. Then I

realized how absurd it was to think this book was rigged

with explosives. It was situated this way because of the

special significance Minamoto placed on it.

I picked it up and began to leaf through it. I under-

stand much of spoken Japanese, but I don't read its

THE LAST SAMURAI

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piC Japanese poem. twas or

the samurai what The Iliad was for the Greeks. Then I

realized how absurd it was to think this book was rigged

with explosives. It was situated this way because of the

special significance Minamoto placed on it.

I picked it up and began to leaf through it. I under-

stand much of spoken Japanese, but I don't read its

THE LAST SAMURAI

175

written characters easily without a dictionary. Most of

it was unintelligible.

I came across one page, however, where Minamoto

had drawn a Fn line down the side of a column, the

method of underlining Japanese. It was a passage con-

cerning the repulsion of the Mongol invaders from

Japanese shores in the thirteenth century. Roughly

translated it read:

And after beseeching Amateratsu (God-

dess of the Sun) , a cloud no bigger than the span of

a man's hand appeared in the evening sky. It

swelled and billowed until it blotted out the sun

and cries of uneasiness were heard from across the

water where the Mongol vessels lay anchored.

By nightfall a mighty stonn rose up and the

wind raged and beat at the waves like a maddened

herdsman, crashing them against the Mongol

hulls, driving their ships into the rcxks and each

other, and laying their sails flat upon the sea.

And in the dawning light, when the wind had

subsided, the sea was seen to be strewn with

wreckage as though tegu [a finely-chopped kind-

ling wood used in the tea ceremony] had been

scattered over the water.

Emperor Kameyama bent his knee in prayer to

Amateratsu and called the wind "kamaikaze" or

divine.

The character for kamaikaze was underlined twice.

Interesting, I thought, from a cultural pint of view,

when one considered what the word meant to Ameri-


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nteresung, ou

when one considered what the word meant to Ameri-

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NICK CARTER

cans who'd lived through World War II and remem-

bered the dreaded kamaikaze pilots who threatened our

Pacific fleet with their suicide dives into a ship 's stacks

or bridge. To the Japanese it meant a wind sent from

heaven that saved their country from invasion.

Interesting ,

. . but it wasn't a gun. I threw thebook

back into the drawer and closed it.

lhere didn't seem to be much point in lcx•king

further. I was going to have to find the main computer

and take my chances unarmed.


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Nineteen

It wasn't until I got down to what I guessed to be the

third level from the bottom that I bumped into the

surprise Lo Sin had left there for me.

j I had come down the six or seven floors from

Minamoto's study as cautiously as I could, stepping as

lightly as possible, being wary of every creaking floor-

board, and it had taken me a good fifteen minutes.

I down a long, dark hall, keeping to the

shadows to avoid a trapezoid of moonlight that lay on

the floor, I suddenly saw the orange glow of a cigarette

grow bright for a second, then go dim again,

I froze. ne glow came from under the window less

than twenty feet away. He was sitting on the floor,

whoever he was. I could barely make him out in the

shadow.

I There was noway of telling if he'd heard me, Istayed

like I was. still as a statue, not daring to breathe. *Ihe

cigarette wavered back and forth, glowing bright again,

then dimming.

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NICK CARTER


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NICK CARTER

Several minutes slipped by. nen he stood an

leaned out the window, flicking the cigarette into th

sea. Judging from his silhouette, he was young

French, and wearing a turtleneck sweater. Out from th

shadow of his body extended the long muzzle of a

automatic rifle.

Local muscle, I thought. One of Lo Sin's recruits.

I could have rushed him from where I was an

shoved him out the window onto the rocks below. He'

be too surprised to put up any resistance, and chance

were any outcry he made would be lost in the sound o

the waves. I could do that, I thought, but it would c

me the rifle.

So I waited. He stared out the window for seve

minutes, mumbling something to himself. While h

was preoccupied, I moved a step or two closer. Eventu-

ally, he tired of whatever he was thinking and sat bac

down. I was within six feet of him by this time an

obviously he still hadn't seen me.

He spread his legs out on the floor, resting his bac

against the wall, the rifle across his lap. He pulled

pack of cigarettes out from underneath the sweater, li

one with a lighter, and put the lighter down next to hi

on the floor. He blew a billow of smoke into the moon

light, then leaned his head back against the wall, expos-

ing his throat and the faint shadow ofhis Adam 's apple.

I was close enough now. I raised my left foot into a

kick position, then slammed it into his windpipe. His

head bounced against the wall and he fell forward on the

floor, writhing back and forth, holding his throat and

barking like a seal.

Ihis went on for thirty seconds. Finally I picked up

the rifle and walked over to him, raising the butt of it

and watching for an opportunity in his gyrating to bring

it down on the back of his skull and put him out of his

THE LAST SAMURAI

179

misery. But before I could, he stopped moving and just

twitched. I checked his pulse. He was dead.

I rolled him over, pulled off the turtleneck sweater,

and tried it on. It wasn't a great fit, but it would do.

Then I shouldered the rifle and continued on down the


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IrtysecondSIFin PIC e up

the rifle and walked over to him, raising the butt of it

and watching for an opportunity in his gyrating to bring

it down on the back of his skull and put him out of his

THE LAST SAMURAI

179

misery. But before I could, he stopped moving and just

twitched. I checked his pulse. He was dead.

I rolled him over, pulled off the turtleneck sweater,

and tried it on. It wasn't a great fit. but it would do.

Then I shouldered the rifle and continued on down the

stairs.

Two more waited for me outside the door. ney were

huddled together in the courtyard, lighting cigarettes by

cupping their hands over a match.

s 'I don 't see why we don 't just set fire to it and smoke

the American out," one said in French. He too was

wearing a turtleneck, and carried his rifle by the barrel.

"He wouldn't like that," the other said.

'*Sometimes we think too much of what he says. "

I watched them from just inside the tower door. It

was the way I'd come in and, as far as I knew, the only

way out. I brought the rifle to my shoulder and fixed its

sights on the head of the guard nearest me. But I didn •t

fire. It would have been a stupid move. I followed him

for a few minutes with the gun trained on him, then put

it down.

There had to be another way, less sloppy. I didn't

want to raise an alarm, and I didn't want to take the

chance of getting pinned down in a gun battle.

So I reached into my bag of tricks for an old one. I

I went back upstairs to where the other guard's body lay

stretched out by the window. I lay the gun on the floor

and felt the rough beams that acted as room dividers

until I found a sizable loose chip of wood, Then, taking

up the gun, I wedged the wood between the trigger and

trigger guard, pulling the trigger back just short of the

point where the gun would fire. Then I stood the

weapon carefully in the corner.

Next, I went back to the body and got out the

cigarette pack from the breast pocket of the dead man's

180

NICK CARTER

shirt. I one out and lit it. It tasted good, strong and

French, and I hadn't had a cigarette in a long time. I


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