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uld be a chair…back or …
She was up and moving without giving herself time to think； to back out。 She flung the door open； stepped out on the porch。 The air was heavy with the salt of the sea； yet perhaps the humidity was abating somewhat。 There was a fresh breeze from the east。
As if she were a mechanical doll； she forced her gaze in the
direction of the silhouette。
'Nicholas！' An indrawn breath。
He sat； lotus position； forearms resting easily on the points of his knees； staring seaward。
'What are you doing？' She came around beside him。 'Nick？' She stopped； bending down。 'What the hell are you doing？〃
'Thinking。'
'About what？' It was a simple thing to say but perhaps； considering her mood； not a very logical one。 She might easily have said； 'Can't you do it somewhere else … away from me？〃 Yet she had not and this surprised。her。 She wondered that； in finding him there； a guardian of her house … of her； really …rather than an invader； her anxiety had dissipated as easily as a bad dream。 In its place was … what？ As she pondered this； she heard him say； 'I'll have to tell you now。'
She reacted better than he might have expected。 It was tantamount to saying： You have cancer。
'Are you sure？' she asked。
'I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't。 I can't say that I understand it yet but that animal crashing in here was no accident。 It was a ninja warning。'
'I may be way off base；' she said levelly； 'but didn't you tell me that one of the ninja's traits was to strike without warning？'
He nodded。 'Yes。 That was true； most of the time。 But there were occasions … a blood feud； for instance； or where it was specifically ordered or where the ninja wished to boast of invincibility … when a ritual warning was given。〃
'But it's crazy；' she protested。 'What would a ninja want with me？ I've had no connection 。。。' She paused but he said nothing； waiting to see if she would figure it out for herself。 He did not think he would have to help her。
She got up off the sofa； walked nervously about the living…room； snapping her fingers。 She stopped in front of the bar； mixed herself a long white rum on the rocks without offering him one； she was too engrossed。 She came back to the sofa； sipped at her drink。
'There's only one thing I can think of；' she said； still somewhat unsure of herself。
'Let's see if we came to the same conclusion。'
'My father。'
'Your father；' Nicholas echoed。 'Raphael Tomkin。' He got up and poured himself a bitter lemon。 'Tell me； what do you know of his business dealings？'
She shrugged。 'Not much more than anyone else； I'm afraid。 I never took much interest in it。 You know； the basic facts。 Oil is the mainstay。 The corporation is multinational。 That's about it。'
'In other words； not much。'
She winced。 'I told you so。'
'All right。 Let's leave that for a while。 Now …'
But she had already put a long forefinger against his lips。 'Don't； Nick。 Don't ask me。 Not now。 Not yet。 Let's leave things the way they are。 Please。 Please。'
He watched her eyes； wondered what was missing。 Perhaps nothing or then again everything。 He did not want that。 But now he wanted her more and that called for a promise。 It was an uneasy one； at best； he knew。 Talking was always better than not talking； that was a fundamental underpinning to all human relationships。 Still； perhaps she was right after all and this was the wrong time。 He swallowed half of his bitter lemon。
'What are we to do now？'
A good question； Nicholas thought； looking at her。 The ninja meant to kill her； of that there seemed little doubt。 This was something he accepted as given； although he could not discount the importance of motivation。 But there would be no immediate answer to that； thus he put it out of his mind for the moment。 What truly concerned him was the nature of the ninja。 It was rare enough to encounter a modern…day villain although； as he had indicated to Vincent and Doc Deerforth； a number did operate clandestinely as independent agents on the highest levels。 But to find one adept at the Niten school was quite alarming。 It was one of the most difficult of kenjutsu styles to master and it might be indicative of other elements。 There was； Nicholas knew well； more than one kind of ninja。 Was it a coincidence？
'The only thing to do； for the moment； is to stay with you。'
Justine nodded。 Oddly； this did not fill her with fear。 Quite the opposite； in fact。 She might even begin to relax with it。 God knew； she wanted to。 Yes； she thought； I do want to。
Suddenly she was feeling much better。
Doc Deerforth was dreaming。 He lay on the hammock tied to his porch beams； swaying slightly。 The delicate； insistent drone of the unceasing rain had lulled him to sleep。
He dreamed of a forest； gleaming like a great emerald； dripping with moisture。 But it was not a place of pleasure or beauty。 Not for him。 He ran through the angled underbrush and； from time to time； as he twisted his head to peer fearfully behind him； he caught a glimpse of the hideous beast that pursued him relentlessly。 It was a tiger。 Fully ten feet long； the beast seemed to move effortlessly through the thick foliage that otherwise sought to pull him down。 Its massive muscles worked with astounding fluidity beneath its glossy striped coat。 Now and again； Doc Deerforth's eyes would lock on those of his foe。 They glowed green in the night like lambent beacons； lighting the way before it。 Yet they were not the shape of cats' eyes but the unmistakable oval … epicanthic fold and all … of a human： a Japanese； to be more specific。
They were the eyes of the ninja Doc Deerforth had encountered just before war's end in the jungles of the Philippines。
Now his way was balked by an enormous stand of bamboo。 No matter which way he looked； there was no passage forward。 He turned to see the man…beast open its mouth。 Hot flame poured out like a river； inundating him in a jelly…like substance that clung to him； stinging like a man…of…war。 He writhed； slapping at himself to rid himself of the burning substance。 Still it clung to him tenaciously as if it were sentient。 He had acquired a second skin： a malignancy which now started to eat into his flesh。 His skin curled and cindered； peeling away to tendon and sinew。 Only this was left to him； as the substance saturated him； piercing his bones。 These were slowly powdered。 And all the while the tiger with the ninja's face grinned at him。 Then； as he felt all strength running out of him； as if he were urinating his life away； puddling it on the ground before him； the beast lifted its right forepaw。 It
was a human arm that had been amputated at the elbow。 Above； the skin was black； the muscles gone； the arm … what was left of it … virtually fleshless； as if it had been crisped in some terrible swift blast。 The tiger with the ninja's face lifted this limb up to him as if to say； 'See this and remember。' On the inside of the arm was tattooed a seven…digit number。 Camp； he thought over and over。 Camp； camp； camp。 He was a jellyfish now； shorn of manhood； even his ape heritage。 Beyond that； he now swayed in the jungle； when man was still a part of the gravid seas； before the spark； before the first fish crawled to the edge of its world and became an amphibian； before the land was fit for life。 In this jungle sea； he drifted with his implacable foe。 'See； see； see；' said the beast； moving towards him who hung helpless on the tides； the evolutionary avatar。 'No！' cried the jellyfish。 'Don't you see？ You'll destroy everyone！' But； unheeding； the man…tiger was upon him。 〃This I do for my …'
Doc Deerforth awoke with a start。 He was drenched in sweat and his cotton shirt was twisted to one side so that he felt as if he were inside a strait jacket。 He gasped； taking several deep breaths。 The rain had ceased some time while he was asleep but water still dripped from the eaves； making him think of the sea and the jellyfish and the ninja and annihilation。
Terry was almost killed on his way to meet Vincent。 This； in itself； held no import for him； he was far too busy with his thoughts。
He was thinking about Hideoshi as he stepped off the kerb at Sixth Avenue； walking east on Forty…sixth Street。 He was meeting Vincent at Michi