Warrior Spirit. Alex Archer

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СКАЧАТЬ by the Allies, and rose to become an economic powerhouse, that’s one glimpse into how our leaders were able to do it.”

      “I thought Japan’s economy was in trouble,” Annja said.

      “It is,” Ken replied. “I think someone tried to figure us out and ruined what we had. But I’m not concerned. Something will happen to bring us around again.”

      The train chimed twice and the doors slid shut. Annja looked at Ken. “Where are we headed?”

      “Out of the city. We’re going to a small town about twenty minutes outside of Kashiwa.”

      The train streamed out of the station, and Annja marveled at the smoothness of the ride. She felt a curious sensation; her buttocks were warm. She shifted once and then looked at Ken who smiled.

      “They heat the seat here,” he said.

      Annja raised her eyebrows. “No wonder those guys are asleep.”

      Ken nodded. “It does seem to promote that, doesn’t it?”

      “I might fall asleep myself if I’m not careful.”

      “I’ll wake you if you do. Don’t worry.”

      But Annja had no intention of falling asleep. The city disappeared and an urbanized sort of suburb followed. Open fields clogged with rusted bits of farm machinery shot past her window. Smaller wooden homes replaced the high-rise apartment buildings.

      Eventually, Ken nudged Annja, who jolted. “Huh?”

      “You started to doze. Come on, this is our stop.”

      Annja followed Ken off the train, and her nostrils were immediately assaulted by a strange scent that seemed somehow familiar. “What is this smell?”

      “Soy sauce. There’s a big factory—one of the world’s biggest companies—just on the other side of town. The air here is forever stained by it. You get used to it pretty quick, but I’ve been kind of turned off to soy sauce ever since I started coming here.”

      They ducked out of the station and turned left. Ken crossed the train tracks they just rode across and then turned left again. Annja saw a sea of bicycles parked in neat lines.

      “Is this common?”

      “Sure. People park them here all the time and ride the train into Tokyo proper.”

      Annja pointed. “But none of them are locked up.”

      Ken shook his head. “No one’s going to steal them. There’s no point to it.”

      Ken threaded his way through the small passage between the bike wheels and Annja twisted to do the same. She spotted some pimped-out bicycles and couldn’t help but think that in America, these would have been stolen in no time flat.

      They cleared the bicycle labyrinth and walked on. Ken smiled at Annja. “Tonight is likely to be very busy.”

      “Busy?”

      “The dojo is small. Real estate prices being what they are, it was almost impossible for the grandmaster to find anything affordable that would still serve well as a dojo. Some of his senior students pitched in to help him buy this place. But it’s still small by Western standards. Ordinarily, the size wouldn’t be an issue but people journey here from all over the world. Numbers add up.”

      An open field that had recently been mowed sat on their left. Ken nodded at it. “This used to be full of tall reeds. We had a saying that we’d dump the bodies of annoying Americans into the swamp and let them rot there.”

      Annja didn’t know if he was serious or not. “Did you ever really do that?”

      “Of course not.” Ken chuckled but then stopped. “Well, actually, there was this obnoxious fool named Pritchard Magoof. For him, we made an exception. He came over here as the student of a very accomplished teacher in America. And of course, he promptly let his ego explode and became rank hungry without having one ounce of technical skill. Now he mostly hangs around the dojo looking like a little puppy dog. We humor him, but he’ll never amount to anything.”

      “Sounds like a real prize.”

      Ken’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe if he’s there tonight we’ll let you train with him.” He laughed. “Now that’d be entertaining.”

      Annja shook her head. “I’m not here to be anyone’s entertainment.”

      “True, true. We have more important things to do than beat Magoof into smithereens. He’ll do that himself anyway. Rumor is it’s only a matter of time before he gets thrown out for being such an idiot.”

      They passed a ramshackle hotel. Ken pointed it out. “This is where the rowdy foreigners stay when they’re over here making asses of themselves.”

      Annja frowned. “Forgive me for saying so, but it seems like you don’t think too much of the non-Japanese who train with you.”

      Ken shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t. Most of the people who come here to learn this art are too full of themselves to ever become truly good at it. There are exceptions and certain dojos that produce decent people. They are, unfortunately, the rarity rather than the norm.”

      “Is it really that bad?” Annja wasn’t sure she was going to fit in with this crowd.

      “Worse, actually. There are hotels in Tokyo that refuse to host foreigners associated with this dojo because in the past, those who stayed there trashed their rooms and partied and destroyed furniture. Maybe they’d never been away from home before—maybe they’re simply immature fools. But whatever the case, they have marred the reputation of the school.”

      “And the grandmaster? What does he do about it?” Annja had images of this wizened old man beating the snot out of people who disgraced his name and style.

      Ken smiled. “Nothing.”

      “Nothing?”

      Ken stopped. “Annja, you have to realize that this art is ninjitsu . Ninjitsu is something entirely Japanese but at the same time it is something wholly un-Japanese. By virtue of its very nature, the art can seem to contradict itself constantly. What is expected is what never occurs. And the unexpected is routine. Only by accepting that you’ll never know what to expect will you be able to glimpse what the art can truly accomplish.”

      “Expect the unexpected, then. Is that it?”

      “Maybe. But it’s more like don’t expect anything. Because there’s no rhyme or reason to any of what happens inside the dojo. Or for that matter, outside of it, either.”

      “That’s a terribly confusing way to go through life,” Annja said.

      Ken nodded. “Remember, this is a martial art. Ninjitsu teaches you to be prepared for warfare. And there’s nothing sacred in war. The moment you think you’ve got it figured out or that you know what’s coming, a good enemy will use that against you and kill you.”

      “Good point.”

      “The СКАЧАТЬ