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On the next sheet of paper you will find a legal document。 It assigns you sixty percent of the voting shares for Tomkin Industries。 With it you can sit on the board of directors； you may even change its position。 Though Justine and Gelda each retain twenty percent； that will be entirely your prerogative； just as it was mine。 Sign it and you will bee the president of Tomkin Industries。 Don't think too much about it； follow your instincts。 But know that this is what I want； Nicky； with all my heart and soul； if such a thing truly exists。 Soon you and Justine will marry。 I am pleased that you love each other。 No one understands better than I how precious such a modity is these days。 You're family now； you see； in all ways。
If you sign you will make me very happy。 I'll know that the pany is in the right hands。 But know this： there is one thing that you must do immediately after the funeral。 Greydon； who is no doubt standing by； will tell you what it is。
Good…bye； Nicky。Tell my girls I love them；
Raphael Tomkin
It was witnessed by Greydon； dated June 4； 1983。
Nicholas sat down on the arm of Sato's chair。 His head was buzzing and he fought desperately for control。 Nothing in his training had prepared him for this。
〃Mr。 Linnear？〃
Slowly Nicholas looked up； being aware that Greydon had been trying to get his attention for some time。
〃Mr。 Linnear； will you sign the codicil？〃
There was just too much happening at once。 Nicholas felt overwhelmed。 Emotion welled up from the Western part of him； while his Eastern half fought desperately to suppress those same emotions which if they surfaced would surely cause loss of face。 Nicholas felt in the middle for the first time in his life； at odds with either side of himself。 Because he wanted to do both： feel and not feel at the same time。 Sato had been quite correct。 In this country grief was an extremely private emotion； held back from even those closest to you。 And yet； he felt acutely the presence of the Colonel urging him to grieve； telling him that it was all right； that it was a man's prerogative to cry； to feel； to need solace in times of stress； it was what everyone wanted。
And still nothing showed on his face。 Perhaps Nangi； the astute master that he was； might have seen the pain flitting like dark darting fish in Nicholas' eyes。 But Nangi would never even contemplate such a gross intrusion of privacy。 Ever since Tomkin was stricken the Japanese had steadfastly looked only at each other； giving no chance for loss of face。
〃Mr。 Linnear？〃
All at once Nicholas found himself in the first attack position； his muscles corded； his hips and knees already moving on their own； the red killing drive welling up in him and his arm beginning to lift。
〃Yes？〃
Greydon blinked rapidly behind his glasses； standing immobile and defenseless； and Nicholas thought to himself； What am I doing？ appalled at the misdirection of emotion； the readiness of his body to act on his aka…i…ninjutsu training。 It was as if all his time in America had been shed from him and now； returned to his natural element； he was reverting； cerebration giving way to instinct as he had been taught。 For jaho； the magic of the ninja ryu； required the absolute imprisonment of the laws and strictures of so…called civilization。
But this was not Nara prefecture and he was not within the caol stone walls of the Tenshin Shoden Katori。 He was no longer a pupil but a sensei。 He should know better。 But he was not entirely Eastern； no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise。
And at precisely this moment； as if a great and towering glacial floe that had blocked his path for ages； reflecting the light in its icy rills and ridges； had cracked asunder； he understood the latent anger he felt toward the Colonel for bearing him； for imbuing him with his Western genes； reactions； instincts…his coarsened method of viewing the world。 Nicholas realized that his unfaltering reverence for his father was merely a mask for the resentment that lay smoldering in white heat inside him。 And abruptly he knew what he must do。
He relaxed his body； consciously draining it of the adrenaline which； unbidden； had been released in the onset of kokyu suru； the attack stance。 Handing Greydon the papers； he said； 〃Give me some time； will you；〃 and went across the room； from island to carpeted island； past the four Japanese； who would not dare look into his face； who spoke in low； quick tones of mundane matters。
Nicholas went around the side of the sofa and Tomkin appeared before him again； already laid out as if on a bier。 There was a
bitter taste in Nicholas' mouth and a burning behind his eyes。 The day the Colonel had died； the Linnears' new gardener； another old man； a Zen master of his leafy domain； to take the beloved Atake's place in the house on the outskirts of Tokyo； had begun to rake the snow。 And Nicholas could see again the lines of dark and white； the sight of melancholy winter transmuted by personal tragedy into the embodiment of death。
Nicholas knelt down at right angles to Tomkin's body； bowing his head formally as one does to acknowledge the head of a family。 After the revelations of a moment ago there seemed no difference between this corpse and the one he and his mother and Itami had buried with such ceremonial pomp and circumstance so many years ago。
Save that now the ache inside him； unknowable and seemingly absolute； had been dissolved in the knowledge of his view of the Roundeyed Barbarian。 Though the Colonel had e to love the East with an unfailing passion； still he had been gaijin and throughout all his life growing up in Japan Nicholas had suffered because of it。 The blood； the blood。 The Japanese could not get over that； could not； in their heart of hearts secreted far away from their public display of affection for him； forgive him for that ultimate transgression。
In Raphael Tomkin Nicholas had perceived； albeit unconsciously； all the traits； though untrue； ascribed to his father。 He saw now that part of his hate for Tomkin was his hate for what the Colonel had been； what he could not help being。 He was an Easterner trapped in a Westerner's body。 Karma。 But Nicholas understood now that he had never been able to accept that； that he had for so many years unconsciously fought against that karma； just as he had steadfastly refused to face his deep and abiding hatred。
Now he could。 Tomkin's death had shown him the way； and for that he would be eternally grateful to the man。 But he knew as well that he had felt far more than hatred toward Tomkin。 He had never truly believed him the monster his daughters claimed he was。 Always ruthless； sometimes cruel； he could nevertheless display an astonishingly profound love for his children as well as life。 Nicholas felt the sorrow bubbling upward； released at last from the iron restraints of his Eastern heritage。
For while he grieved for Raphael Tomkin； he grieved anew for his father as well。 Tears fell like stones from his eyes； neatly aligned pebbles from his own inner Zen garden that had forever been diminished by human loss。
After a time； Nicholas rose。 His face was calm； posed；
and his mind felt clear； free of the ropy