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The　price　would　give　them　only　the　most　modest　of　profits；　but　at　least　they　would　be　out　from　under　that　saddle。
　But　that　might　not　be　enough　now。　The　Tomkin　deal　was　in　limbo　until　Linnear　returned；　and　Sato　had　had　the　most　awful　feeling　in　the　pit　of　his　stomach　ever　since　Nangi　had　gotten　that　call　from　the　All…Asia　Bank　in　Hong　Kong。　He　had　been　most　unforthing　about　the　nature　of　the　call；　but　his　hurried　trip　to　the　Crown　Colony　boded　ill。
　Sato　read　the　papers；　he　knew　what　the　munist　Chinese's　repudiation　of　the　treaty　with　Great　Britain　had　meant　to　the　Colony；　and　he　had　gritted　his　teeth　as；　day　by　day；　his　worst　fears　were　borne　out。　Real　estate　and　banking　were　the　two　mainstays　of　Hong　Kong's　economy；　and　he　knew　once　the　first　went；　it　was　merely　a　matter　of　time　before　cracks　began　to　show　in　the　other。
　Just　how　deeply　has　Tony　Chin　sunk　us？　he　asked　himself。Oh；　Amida！　I　pray　he　has　a　cautious　nature。　I　pray　we　are　not　caught　in　the　bear　trap。
　But　Sato　knew　that　he　and　Nangi　were　already　in　one　kind　of　trap　and　it　was　closing　inexorably　about　them　with　frightening　rapidity。　What　Linnear…san　had　called　the　Wu…Shing。　Sato　shuddered　inwardly。　Three　deaths。　Kagami…san；　Mo；　the　tattoo；　Yoshida…san；　Yi；　cutting　off　the　nose；　and　now　Masuto　Ishii；　found　in　the　gymnasium　with　his　feet　cut　off。　Sato　strained　to　recall。　With　a　sickening　lurch　that　set　his　gorge　to　rising；　it　came　to　him：　Yueh。　The　ideogram　was　a　merging　of　those　of　knife　and　foot。
　What　was　happening　to　the　kobun？　The　pany　was　dying　around　him；　and　unless　Linnear…san　found　a　way　to　stop　these　murders　he　and　Nangi　would　be　finished。　For　there　were　two　more　murders　left　in　the　Wu…Shing　ritual；　and　it　did　not　take　a　genius　to　determine　who　the　final　targets　would　be。
　Who　wished　to　punish　them；　and　why？　Abruptly；　within　this　place　of　moving　shadows　and　ancient　kami；　Sato　had　the　growing　intuition　that　their　past…his　and　Nangi's…had　somehow　been　resurrected　and　a　shambling　reanimated　corpse；　trailing　rotting　flesh　in　its　wake；　was　making　its　relentless　way　toward　them。　Soon　they　would　have　no　structure　from　which　to　carry　out　the　final　stages　of　Tenchi。　What　would　happen　then？　He　bent　his　head　and　prayed　fervently　for　salvation　or；　at　the　very　least；　surcease　from　this　terrible　nightmare　that　had　grown　up　around　them；　destroying　the　kobun's　most　efficient　executives；　the　very　heart　of　the　empire　that　he　and　Nangi　had　struggled　for　so　long　to　achieve。　He　must　not　allow　that　to　happen。　Nothing　must　be　allowed　to　delay　Tenchi。　Nothing。　But　there　was　a　cold　hand　clenched　around　his　heart；　squeezing　until　his　eyes　filled　with　tears　and　the　pain　was　hot　in　his　mouth。
　And　he　thought；　Punish　us　for　what？　What　have　we　done？
　Viktor　Protorov　should　have　been　in　the　Middle　East。　Three　weeks　ago　his　presence　had　been　required　in　Southern　Lebanon　to　put　a　stop　to　a　dispute　that　had　been　going　on　so　long　now　that　it　had　taken　on　all　the　characteristics　of　a　feud。
　Yet　he　had　not　moved　from　Hokkaido；　from　the　safe　house　he　had　spent　four　years　creating　for　himself。　When　he　was　here　no　one　in　the　Soviet　Union　knew　where　he　was　or　could　trace　him。　Protorov　was　quite　certain　of　that。　He　had　several　of　his　best　apparatchiks　tunneled　securely　into　the　heirarchies　of　all　eight　other　Directorates。　They　had　tried　numerous　times　at　the　behest　of　their　respective　leaders。　All　drew　blanks。
　As　for　the　men　of　the　Ninth　Directorate　who　manned　this　safe
　house；　Protorov　was　just　as　certain　of　them。　They　were；　to　a　man；　loyal　to　him　first；　the　Directorate　second；　and　Mother　Russia　third。　Of　course　he　did　not　leave　such　vital　matters　to　chance。　Once　every　two　weeks　the　staff…as　well　as　the　operatives　alive　within　the　Japanese　islands…were　obliquely　vetted　in　an　ongoing　program　to　ensure　that　the　safe　house　was　absolutely　sterile。
　Only　one　man　was　not　thus　spied　upon　by　his　own　people；　and　that　was　because　he　was　in　such　an　enormously　sensitive　position。　For　him　alone　Protorov　wished　to　see　in　person；　to　ensure　his　own　safety　and　that　the　reports　he　was　receiving　were　pure　white。　〃White　reports〃　were　those　containing　highly　sensitive　information　as　well　as　being　entirely　free　of　disinformation。
　In　point　of　fact；　white　reports　were　rare。　Protorov　had　been　in　the　business　of　deception　long　enough　to　take　for　granted　that　a　majority　of　all　reports　were　to　some　degree　gray。　That　is；　they　contained　some　disinformation。　And　it　was　for　him　to　determine　the　wheat　from　the　chaff；　discarding　the　lies　to　uncover　the　truth。　This　was　only　one　of　his　many　specialized　talents。
　Japan　was　an　exception　that　proved　the　rule。　Many　of　the　Ninth　Directorate's　operatives　were　of　such　a　fanatic　nature　that　they　invariably　turned　in　white　reports。　The　man　Protorov　was　going　to　see　now　was　one　of　those。
　But　the　problems　in　Southern　Lebanon　had　not　gone　away；　and　just　this　morning　Protorov　had　dispatched　one　of　his　most　trusted　lieutenants　to　take　care　of　the　feud　for　him。　Tenchi　was　too　much　a　part　of　him　now。　As　yet　a　nebulous　concept；　still；　its　siren　song　lured　him　onward　with　the　promise　of　awesome　reward。
　But　if　the　truth　be　known　Protorov　had　not　wanted　to　return　to　the　baking　dusty　climate　of　Southern　Lebanon。　Always　the　stink　of　camel　dung　and　heated　machine　oil　was　in　the　air。　And　how　he　had　e　to　despise　the　Arabs！　Oh　yes；　he　had　no　doubt　as　to　their　usefulness　to　the　Soviet　Union。　But　their　gullibility…their　stupidity；　really…the　key　to　their　usefulness…was　what　he　could　no　longer　tolerate。　They　were　obscene　barbarians；　and　he　was　far　better　off　pursuing　the　specter　of　Tenchi　than　having　to　mediate　a　dispute　between　Arab　and　Russian。
　Arrogance；　Protorov　thought　now；　was　a　quality　the　White　Russians　suffered　from；　hence　their　downfall。　But　the　damnable　Arabs　had　it　as　well。　He　was　well　away　from　them；　he　had　been　months　getting　the　sand　out　of　his　clothes。
　Koten's　great　bulk　descended　off　Shinjuku。　Sato's　weekly　pilgrimage　had　given　him　some　free　time。　Shrines　were　no　place　for　violence；　Sato　felt；　and　therefore　would　not　allow　Koten　to　acpany　him。
　The　sumo　took　the　green　line　four　stops；　where　he　changed　for　the　blue　line　at　Kudanshita；　riding　that　to　the　huge　Nihon…bashi　station。　He　was　stared　at　openly　in　the　subways　but　he　was　used　to　that。　Outwardly　he　ignored　the　attention　even　while　his　spirit　expanded　with　pride。　He　had　worked　hard　to　move　up　the　dan；　and　even　though　he　no　longer　performed　in　public；　still　he　spent　a　great　deal　of　time　staying　in　shape　and　even；　from　time　to　time；　engaging　in　exhibition　bouts。　He　had　not　been　defeated　in　these　five　years。
　He　emerged　on　Eit…dori　and　turned　right。　The　avenue　was　crowded　with　shoppers。　Along　the　next　block　he　waited　for　the　light；　then　crossed　the　avenue　and　entered　the　Tokyu　department　store。
　Inside；　the　place　was　as　enormous　and　as　varied　as　a　city。　One　of　his　friends　had　gotten　married　here；　another　had　purchased　burial　plots　for　himself　and　his　family。　But　Koten　was　interested　in　neither　of　these　services。
　A　white…gloved　female　attendant　waved　him　onto　the　down　escalator。　He　stared　openly　at　her　heavily　made…up　face　until　she　turned　her　head　away　beneath　the　scrutiny。
　In　the　basement；　he　idly　watched　cakes　being　prepared；　sushi　being　rolled；　tofu　being　fermented；　bean　paste　being　mixed　and　sugared。　He　made　his　lunch　from　the　numerous　free　sample　trays　on　the　glass　counters　he　passed。
　When　he　had　judged　that　he　had　eaten　enough；　he　moved　away　toward　the　up　escalator。　Still　there　was　an　emptiness　within　his　capacious　stomach。
　He　ascended　past　myriad　floors　of　designer　clothing；　house…wares；　furniture；　toys　and　games；　theaters；　medical　and　dental　clinics；　galleries　filled　with　paintings　and　sculptures；　classes　on　how　to　wear　a　kimono；　how　to　serve　tea；　how　to　arrange　flowers；　and　in　between　a　plethora　of　restaurants。
　There　was　a　teahouse　in　the　roof　garden　with　red；　black；　and　white　rice…paper　lanterns　on　wires　dancing　in　the　light　wind。　Amid　the　carefully　manicured　shrubbery　was　a　small　zoo　attended　by　flocks　of　children；　some　of　whose　mothers　were　busy　downstairs　shopping。
　Koten　waded　in　among　this　lot　to　get　a　better　look　at　the　baboons　and　gibbons。　Some　distance　away　there　were　the　smallish　monkeys　from　the　northern　alps　around　Nagano。　Koten　edged　closer　to　these　though　they　were　less　exotic　and　therefore　had　less　of　an　audience。　Koten　was　from　Nagano；　and　the　sight　of　these　symbols　of　home　abruptly　made　him　conscious　of　the　fact　that　he　had　not　been　back　for　more　than　ten　years。
　〃See　something　of　interest？〃
　He　did　not　need　to　turn　his　head　to　take　in　the　small　accountant's　body；　the　undistinguished　face。
　〃These　little　ones　chatter　of　home　to　me；〃　he　said。
　〃Ah；〃　the　drab　man　said。　〃The　mountains。　Those　of　us　who　were　born　in　the　mountains　never　fully　adjust　to　being　parted　from　them。〃
　Koten　nodded　slowly　and　made　his　report。　When　he　was　finished；　he　dutifully　answered　the　drab　man's　questions　to　the　best　of　his　ability。
　〃I　have　to　get　back；〃　he　said。　〃Sato…san　will　be　returning　from　his　prayers　soon。〃
　〃Prayers；〃　said　Viktor　Protorov　disdainfully；　〃are　for　the　already　vanquished。〃
　Three　times　〃Tex〃　Bristol　had　had　to　abandon　his　plans　to　take　out　the　Blue　Monster；　and　it　had　more　to　do　with　Alix　Logan　than　it　did　with　her　nocturnal　guardian。　After　her　suicide　attempt　the　Blue　Monster　wasn't　taking　any　chances；　and　he　had　moved　in　with　her　at　night。
　Now　the　lights　never　went　out　in　Alix's　apartment　during　the　long　nights　as　her　keeper　kept　vigil　with　the　most　obvious　tool。　Light。
　And　light　in　the　dead　of　night　was　not　something　Bristol　had　counted　on。　There　was　an　element　of　surprise　that　was　needed。　It　had　e　to　his　attention　that　Alix　Logan's　monsters　were　not　themselves　ex…cops；　they　were　far　smarter　than　that。　And　they　had　a　manner　about　them　that　was；　well；　almost　military。　Bristol　had　spent　long　hours　baking　in　the　sun；　doing　nothing　more　than　watching　Alix　Logan　from　afar；　except　to　wonder　where　the　monsters　got　their　training。　Had　Tomkin　bee　smarter　in　his　old　age？　Had　he　begun　hiring　a　higher　grade　of　gorilla　to　do　his　dirty　work？　That　was　the　only　explanation。
　After　the　third　aborted　attempt　to　steal　into　Alix　Logan's　apartment　at　night；　Bristol　re