el.the miko-第41部分

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le　away。　〃But　if　you　want　my　opinion；　even　that　won't　do　much　good。〃　He　peered　around　at　the　anxious　faces　in　the　room：　Nicholas；　Sato；　Nangi；　then　at　the　form　of　Tomkin；　sprawled　on　Sato's　sofa。
　〃It's　not　his　heart；〃　the　doctor　said。　〃I　don't　know　what　it　is。〃
　〃I　took　his　pulse　while　you　were　being　summoned；〃　Nicholas　said。　〃He　didn't　have　any。〃
　〃Quite　so。〃　The　doctor's　eyes　blinked　owllike　behind　his　thick　lenses。　〃And　that　is　what　is　so　remarkable。　He　should　be　dead；　you　know。〃　He　looked　over　in　the　direction　of　the　stricken　man。　〃Was　he　on　any　special　medication；　do　you　know；　Linnear…san？〃
　Nicholas　remembered　idly　picking　up　the　small　plastic　bottle　in　Tomkin's　hotel　suite。　〃He's　been　taking　Prednisone。〃
　The　doctor　seemed　to　stagger　backward　a　pace　and　Nicholas　reached　out　for　him。　His　face　had　gone　pale　but　he　made　no　exclamation；　only　said　so　low　Nicholas　had　to　lean　toward　him；　〃Prednisone？　Are　you　absolutely　certain　it　was　Prednisone？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　The　doctor　took　off　his　glasses。　〃I　fear　the　ambulance　will　be　useless　now；〃　he　said　softly。　Carefully　he　replaced　his　spectacles　and　looked　at　them。　Now　his　face　had　altered　just　as　if　he　were
　a　quick…change　artist。　His　eyes　were　black；　a　professional　veneer　like　a　curtain　hanging　between　him　and　everything　else　about　him。　Nicholas　had　seen　that　look　many　times　before　in　doctors；　and　in　soldiers　returning　from　a　war。　It　was　a　kind　of　defense　mechanism；　a　deliberate　hardening　of　the　heart　to　protect　it　from　sorrow's　bitter　arrows。　There　was；　indeed；　nothing　the　doctor　could　do；　and　he　hated　defeat　so　much。
　〃I　am　afraid　Tomkin…san　is　suffering　from　the　end　phase　of　Takayasu's　arterisis；　a　uniformly　malignant　and　fatal　disease。　It　is　also　known　as　pulseless　disease。　The　reason　for　that　is；　I　think；　obvious　to　all　of　you。〃
　Miss　Yoshida　was　confident　that　she　was　dying。　This　did　not　seem　to　be　a　terrible　occurrence　for　it　would　bring　an　end　to　her　suffering　and　would　hide　her　shame　at　being　too　cowardly　to　take　up　her　husband's　wakizashi　and；　drawing　the　steel　from　its　scabbard；　plunge　it　into　her　lower　belly。
　But　the　manner　in　which　she　was　dying…that　was　another　matter　entirely。　She　was　dying　like　a　dog；　a　poor；　broken　animal　in　the　street；　kicked　and　pummeled；　the　life　escaping　from　her　in　short　arrhythmic　gasps。
　Surely　this　was　no　way　for　a　samurai　woman　to　die；　she　told　herself；　her　mind　already　half　numb　from　the　painful　contact　of　the　needle…sharp　ripple　blade　of　the　steel　fan。
　But　the　sight　of　the　figure　looming　over　her…that　painted　demon's　face；　dead　white；　with　bright　orange　paint　in　the　manner　the　kabuki　represented　demons　in　its　plays…transfixed　her。
　It　was　as　if　she　had　been　spun　down　the　awful　tunnel　of　legend；　as　if　quotidian　Tokyo　with　its　hordes　of　rushing　people；　thick　pollution；　and　bright　neon　lights　had　disappeared　entirely。　And　in　its　place　were　the　wood　and　paper　houses；　the　green；　trembling　bamboo　groves　of　the　Japan　of　long　ago；　mist　shrouded　and　mysterious；　filled　with　magic　and　the　feats　of　heroes。
　This　was　the　essence　of　the　visage　which　was　bent　over　her　now；　administering　a　terrible　punishment。
　But　I　am　samurai！　a　voice　in　the　back　of　Miss　Yoshida's　dazzled　mind　cried。　If　I　am　to　die；　at　least　grant　me　the　nobility　of　falling　in　battle。
　And　so　Miss　Yoshida　reached　up　with　clawlike　talons；　shredding　first　her　nails　and　then　her　fingertips　on　the　deadly　gunsen　that　whistled　down　at　her　again　and　again。　She　began　to　inch　away　from　the　blows；　uncurling　herself　awkwardly；　using　forearms　and　elbows　now；　the　blood　running　hot　and　free　down　her　arms　and　into　the　drenched　sockets　of　her　armpits。
　But　now　her　lips　were　drawn　back　from　her　clenched　teeth　in　a　cross　between　a　grin　and　a　snarl　and　adrenaline　pumped　through　her　and　her　heart　arose　from　its　gray　slumber　and　sang　again　at　the　spirits　of　her　samurai　ancestors　who　moved　her　now　to　her　glorious　end。
　〃Confirmed　diagnosis　has　been　relatively　recent。　Early　1979　at　the　Mayo　clinic；　I　believe。〃
　〃There　is　nothing　you　can　do；　Taki…san？〃　Sato　said。
　The　doctor　shrugged　his　meager　shoulders。　〃I　can　sedate　him；　take　away　the　pain。　There's　nothing　else。〃
　〃But　surely　the　hospital　has　facilities　that　can…〃
　But　Taki　was　already　shaking　his　head。　〃It　is　almost　over；　Sato…san。　He　will　feel　far　more　pain　if　we　move　him。　And　the　hospital。。。　well；　personally；　I　would　not　want　to　die　there　had　I　the　choice。〃
　Sato　nodded；　also　admitting　defeat。
　Nicholas　left　them；　a　modern　cabal；　ineffectual　against　the　primitive；　ultimate　forces　of　nature。　He　knelt　beside　Tomkin　and　looked　into　the　pale；　pinched　face。　Once　he　had　seen　the　power　in　that　face；　the　lines　the　burden　of　mand　had　etched　into　it；　giving　it　character　and　substance。
　Now　it　was　those　lines　that　had　begun　to　take　over；　deepening；　widening；　extending　their　networks。　Time　seemed　to　have　closed　in　on　him；　aging　him　ten　years　in　as　many　minutes。　But　unlike　Taki；　he　would　never　bounce　back。　The　regenerative　process　in　him　had　been　destroyed　by　disease。
　It　seemed　vastly　ironic　to　Nicholas　now　to　be　kneeling　by　the　side　of　this　dying　man；　the　same　man　whom　he　had　vowed　to　destroy。　But　he　did　not　question　it。　Tomkin's　karma　was　his　own。　Nicholas　accepted　these　events　as　he　accepted　all　else　in　life；　with　equanimity　and　calmness。　It　was　just　this　unique　quality　which　had　allowed　him　to　put　away　his　intense　desire　to　talk　with　Akiko；　his　bewilderment　at　her　physicality。　It　was　what　allowed　him　to　recover　so　quickly　from　the　awesome　implications　of　Kagami…san's　terrible　murder。
　He　was　Eastern　in　nature；　even　though　there　was　but　a　hint　of　his　mother's　blood　in　his　face。　The　Colonel；　had　he　been　alive　today；　would　have　recognized　in　the　visage　of　his　son　an　almost　exact　duplicate　of　his　own　youthful　self；　save　that　Nicholas'　hair　was　as　dark　as　his　mother's　and　his　eyes　somehow　did　not　contain　the　directness　of　Western　culture。
　Within　Nicholas　now　swirled　many　emotions。　He　recognized　the　hate　for　Tomkin　which　had　allowed　him　to　go　to　work　for　him；　even　bee　his　Mend　in　order　to　be　close　to　him；　to　sow　the　seeds　of　his　revenge　for　his　friend's　murder　at　Tomkin'　s　behest。　And　yet。。。　There　were　qualities　about　the　man　that　had　begun　to　affect　Nicholas。　For　one　thing；　he　was　fiercely　loyal。　He　would　try　to　bring　the　sun　down　from　the　sky　for　one　of　his　people　who　was　legitimately　in　trouble。　For　another；　his　abiding　love　for　both　his　daughters；　but　especially　Justine；　was　touching。　It　was　in　the　nature　of　the　man　that　he　could　not　very　well　express　that　love。　But　his　understanding　of　his　troubled　younger　daughter　and；　just　as　importantly；　his　acknowledgement…at　least　to　himself　and　to　Nicholas…of　his　plicity　in　her　emotional　state　was　laudable。
　Though　Tomkin　could　often　be　loud　and　crude；　these　abrasive　qualities　hid　a　man　of　much　emotion。　Indeed；　in　private　moments；　many　of　which　he　had　chosen　to　share　with　Nicholas；　when　his　guard　was　down　and　he　was　relaxed；　he　could　be　an　engaging；　even　a　charming；　panion。
　Nicholas　looked　down　at　the　gray；　deflated　face。　Devoid　of　animation；　Tomkin　had　the　countenance　of　an　overused　wax　doll。　He　recalled　Tomkin's　sadness　over　Justine's　relationships；　how　he　had　ached　for　her　when　she　had　been　used　by　Chris；　the　final　anger　that　had　both　saved　her　and　caused　her　to　turn　away　from　him。
　Nicholas　recognized　that　Justine　should　be　here；　perhaps　only　he　knew　how　much　solace　her　presence　would　bring　to　Tomkin　now。　Ultimately；　it　was　his　family　that　was　Tomkin's　weak　spot。　It　seemed　cruel　indeed　that　he　should　die　here　so　far　from　home　and　his　daughters；　all　that　he　loved。　Facing　death；　Nicholas　felt　always　slightly　diminished。　He　understood　dimly　that　that　was　a　Western　facet　of　his　personality；　a　legacy　from　the　Colonel。　His　Eastern　half　understood　fully　that　death　was　integrated　with　life；　the　two　the　same；　really。　If　you　were　one　with　all　things；　then　death　was　one　of　them。　That；　at　least；　should　be　some　solace　to　him　now。
　Nicholas　saw　the　eyes　flutter　open；　the　brown　of　the　irises　dirty　and　almost　gray。　Breath　was　an　enormous　effort；　the　dry…lipped　mouth　was　half　open。
　〃I　called　Greydon；〃　he　said。　〃He's　just　outside。〃
　But　there　seemed　no　recognition　at　all　in　the　eyes　as　they　drifted；　drifted　across　the　room。　Outside；　day　had　died　and　the　nighttime　splendor　of　Tokyo　was　a　blaze　of　neon　fire；　holding　back　the　darkness　with　its　multicolored　shell。
　Tomkin　turned　his　head；　and　Nicholas　followed　his　gaze。　There　was　nothing　there；　a　blank　wall。　What　did　Tomkin　see　there　that　held　the　last　of　his　attention？　Only　cats　sat　and　stared　at　nothing。
　Then　a　shadow　passed　across　the　wall；　and　as　if　it　were　somehow　connected　to　him；　Tomkin　shuddered　once　and　Nicholas　said；　〃Doctor？〃　though　it　was　merely　a　formality；　he　knew　death　when　he　saw　it。
　〃Mr。　Linnear？〃
　Nicholas　rose　slowly　and　turned　to　see　the　worried　face　of　Greydon；　Tomkin's　attorney。
　〃How　is　he？〃
　〃Let　the　doctor　tell　you。〃　Nicholas　suddenly　felt　tired。
　Taki　knelt　beside　Tomkin's　form　with　his　stethoscope；　listening　intently。　After　a　moment；　he　pulled　the　instrument　from　his　ears。　〃He's　expired；　I'm　afraid。〃　He　stood　up　and　began　to　write　in　his　notepad。
　Greydon　wiped　at　his　face　with　a　linen　handkerchief。　〃This　is　so　sudden；〃　he　said。　〃I　never。。。　well；　I　never　suspected　it　was　so　close。〃
　〃You　knew　about　Tomkin's　illness？〃　Nicholas　said。
　Greydon　nodded　distractedly。　〃Yes。　Dr。　Kidd；　his　personal　physician；　and　I　were　the　only　ones。〃　Then　his　eyes　seemed　to　focus　and　he　looked　at　Nicholas。　〃Tomkin　had　to　e　to　me　for　the　will；　you　see。　I　had　to　know。〃
　He　took　a　deep　breath。　〃Would　anyone　mind　if　I　had　a　whiskey　and　soda？〃
　〃Excuse　me；〃　Sato　said。　〃The　circumstances。。。〃　He　went　quickly　to　the　bar　and　made　Greydon　his　drink；　gave　it　to　him。　He　made　something　for　Nangi　as　well；　who　was　looking　very　pale。
　Greydon　took　a　long　pull　at　his　drink　and　touched　Nicholas　on　the　elbow。　〃Please；〃　he　said　quietly；　〃e　with　me。〃
　Away　from　the　others；　Nicholas　stopped。　〃What　is　it？〃　he　said　shortly。　His　mind　was　elsewhere。
　Greydon　snapped　open　his　black　lizardskin　attache　case。　〃There　are　certain　matters　which　must　be…〃
　〃Not　now；〃　Nicholas　said；　putting　his　hand　on　Greydon's　arm。　〃There'll　be　ple