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Carefully； Nangi slid the red envelope away next to the document that lay like a lead weight against his heart。 He pushed away from the table and； taking up his cane； rose and walked awkwardly out of the Sun Wa Trading pany to where his chauffeured car was waiting for him。
There was no aspect of nightlife that interested him so he went directly back to the hotel。 Food tasted like ash and stuck in his throat as if it were the contract itself that Liu and his masters had coerced him into signing。 Stoically he went on eating until his plate was clean； and then could not remember what it was that he had ordered。 It did not matter。
Undressed； he lay atop his bed and stared up at the ceiling； at the river of the past。 As always； kanryodo consumed him。 Once a warrior； always a warrior； he thought。 It was impossible to hang up your katana； even if； as in his case； it was figurative rather than literal。
The face of Makita； his sempai； floated through the clouds of his memory as it often did。 Rather than allow them to take out his diseased stomach； he had mitted seppuku。 He had asked Nangi to be his second and； acquiescing； Nangi had taken up his mentor's long sword and with one swift overhand strike had ended the excruciating pain of the two wakizashi slashes； the first lateral； the second vertical； that Makita had managed to inflict himself。
And though it had been the honorable thing to do； though Nangi had had no choice but to ply with his sempai's wishes； still he was ashen as he stared at the bloody blade； his friend and surrogate father's head on the tatami； he shook all over as if he had contracted ague。 His skin felt feverish and dry and there was no saliva with which to swallow。
Surely； Nangi had thought； Christ could not have wished such a thing。 And he had fled to church where； in the Confessional； he had spewed out what he had done in rapid…fire bursts like retching。 But even that could not cleanse him and he spent the next six hours on his knees before the image of Christ on the Cross； praying for forgiveness。
It had been Sato who had e for him； persuading him to leave that sanctuary where the real world could not intrude。 〃My friend；〃 Sato had said softly； 〃you cannot possibly blame yourself。 You did what had to be done； what any samurai would do。 You stood by your friend when he needed you the most。 What more can you ask of yourself？ It was gin。〃
Nangi's eyes had been full of pain and self…loathing。 〃It was not the Christian thing to do； Seiichi…san。〃
To which Sato had had no reply but to get Nangi out of there。
Thoughts of Makita inevitably led Nangi back to mabiki； the decades…long weeding…out process he had performed at MITI for his sempai。 How many had he 〃slain〃 in this way； destroying any chance they had for advancement in Japanese bureaucracy？ Always he asked himself that question； because always he was uneasy with what he had done。
Shimada had been the first one； Shimada had been the beginning of mabiki。 He had paid for his greed and his shortsightedness。 He could not see change ing； and thus Nangi had doomed him to humiliation or death。 Shimada had chosen the honorable path and had mitted seppuku； opening the way for Makita's immediate appointment as first vice…minister of MITI。
Shimada had been the hardest one。 After that； the mabiki was easier to handle； the concept easier for Nangi to accept。 Kanry…odo's precepts had hardened his heart。
Now； sweating in a hotel room in a foreign colony clinging with the tenaciousness of woodbine to the very tip of the Asian continent； his great dream lost to him； he wondered piteously whether he had murdered in the name of Christ。
He was never quite certain whether the ringing of the telephone had roused him out of slumber or deep thought。 In any case； he rolled over and grabbed for the instrument。 The glowing dial of his wristwatch told him that it was thirteen minutes before four A。M。 A Chinese might have found this an inauspicious numerical bination； Nangi did not care。
〃Yes？〃
〃It's Fortuitous Chiu；〃 came the thin voice down the wire。 〃I'm on Po Shan Road； a block from Succulent Pien's flat。〃 He sounded a bit out of breath。
Nangi sat up。 〃Haven't you been able to find a way in yet？〃
〃Been in and out already。〃 Now Nangi recognized the excitement in the other's voice。 〃I think you'd better get down here pronto。〃
〃What is it？〃
〃Forgive my bluntness； sir； but I don't think you'd believe me if I told you outright。 If you see for yourself； that'll be another story。〃
〃I'm on my way；〃 Nangi said； his heart beginning to beat fast。 The sweat had dried on his skin。 Swinging his legs over the side of the bed； he reached for his cane。
The vault was as airless as it was lightless。 Behind him Nicholas could hear the circular door through which he had stepped sighing closed。 He heard the pneumatics and was not cheered。
Alone and in total darkness； he moved to where his haragei told him was the center of the vault。 Then he stood still； his senses questing。 A desk and several chairs； a lamp unlit； some machinery which it was beyond him to identify in the absence of visuals。 A kind of wooden scaffolding whose purpose was also a mystery to him。
Took stock。 He was on Hokkaido but he did not know where since Koten had blindfolded him after binding him hand and foot。 He had then been carried to what he could only guess was the trunk of the Soviets' car and locked in。 They had driven for just under an hour。 Giving the car an average speed of forty…five m。p。h。 put him in a radius of approximately thirty…five to forty miles from the rotenburo。 He knew that was not good enough。
Humming invading the void of darkness in which he stood； broke through his thoughts。 It was subtle； might not have been discerned by a normal man。
Immediately Nicholas went toward the sound； sniffing like an animal； quick； shallow breaths。 Scented it when he was fifteen feet away from the vent high up in the wall and turned away； getting away from that side of the room。 It would only prolong the time that he had left before the chloroform derivative took effect on him。 But he needed all the time he could get now。
〃I don't see why we're waiting so long；〃 the doctor said pointedly。 〃It only takes the gas three…and…a…half minutes to fully permeate the vault space。〃 He waggled the wrist on which his chronometer was fastened so that those around him would not miss the fact that it had been almost fifteen minutes since the gas…an interesting mixture of a soporific in the chloroform group and a powerful peyote concentrate； altered to be effective when inhaled rather than ingested…had been pumped into the room。
〃Patience； Doctor；〃 Viktor Protorov said calmly。 〃I fully appreciate your enthusiasm to sink your spikes into a new client； but I think I know what is best in this case。〃
The doctor shrugged his shoulders； began a ragged rendition of 〃The Czarist and the Revolutionary；〃 a folk song his grandmother had taught him when he was a child； just to show these others that he was not the total Protorov puppet that they were。
With the doctor and Protorov were Pyotr Alexandrovitch Rus…silov； Koten； and a pair of junior lieutenants under Russilov's direct m