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Feeling a bit calmer； Tori got off the chair； went to the desk。 She put her hands on the box Ariel had given her。 She opened it once again； took out the color snapshot； stared at it。 It was a photo of Ariel； clearly taken recently； perhaps only weeks before he had e down to Buenos Aires。 In the background Tori could see trees； walkways； benches； one of San Francisco's small parks。 Tori could see Russian Hill in the distance； so the park was close to where Ariel had lived。 His face was in partial shade； but it must have been quite sunny because his eyes were crinkled up against the light。 He was smiling。 Just behind him was what looked like a bronze sundial and； beyond； a child at play。 At the edge of the park a couple was walking toward the camera； and a bit closer there was a man in the left…hand corner of the frame。 They were all too distant for her to be able to make out their faces。
Tori had studied this photograph endlessly since she had e home； searching for a clue as to what might make it important enough for Ariel； at me point of death； to entrust her with it。 But she could find nothing out of the ordinary。 It was just a photo of a man in the park。 Ariel。 Was this the sum total of him； all that might pass for a legacy？
There was a soft knock on the library door； and Laura Nunn entered。 〃Darling； it's so late。 We were waiting dinner for you。〃
Tori glanced at her watch。 ' 'But it's only six…thirty。 Mother。''
Laura Nunn smiled。 〃Seven…thirty。 We turned the clocks ahead this morning。 It's Daylight Saving Time。 Summer's on its way。〃 She cocked her head。 〃You're hungry aren't you？〃
Tori； putting away the mysterious photo of Ariel； said； 〃As a matter of fact I am。〃
And speaking of Zen policemen； Tori thought； hours later when she was alone in her room； there was Bernard Godwin； the father figure in her life。 She had met him and her life had changed； as if he had been a bolt of lightning； or a Zen policeman。
She was sitting at the art deco vanity…a Christmas gift from her mother…where； years before； Laura Nunn had put ribbons in her hair； tying them just so； the perfect mother making her daughter in her image。 Perfect。 Tori； running her brush through her thick hair now； shuddered。 She stared at herself in the mirror； and remembered 。 。 。
Almost ten years ago she had been； in the current street patois； a wild child…what the society of sixteenth century feudal Japan would have called a ronin…a masterless samurai。
Those were the days when Tori haunted the wicked back streets； the evil bars squatting in the putrid backwaters； bastard splinters of Tokyo's monolithic nature。
There were so many empty spaces in Tori's mind； she could afford little sleep； because in rest she would be forced to look into the emptiness and see； perhaps； what she was not ready to confront。 Instead she walked the line closest to the abyss of death in order to prove to herself that she was still alive。
It was inconceivable to her； for instance； that she might be homesick。 Oh； she missed Greg； but that was a given for her。 It never occurred to her that she might long to see her father again； to gain from him what she never had been able to； a sense of her own worth； a knowledge seen in his eyes； heard in his tone of voice if not directly from his words； that he was proud of her； the way he was proud of Greg。 There had never been room for her in a family fixated on continual praise for Gregory Nunn； pilot； astronaut； and it was far less painful to relinquish all hope than to be forever disappointed。
The fact was； had she been able to admit it to herself； Tori would have seen that she loved her father as she loved Greg。 Both were extraordinary people in much the same way。 But Tori's burning need to be recognized in her own right by her father made it impossible for her to see him with the same objectivity she saw Greg。
In a way； it was odd that she put no blame on her brother for the praise lavished on him。 Shouldn't she see it as his fault that when the family spotlight swung on him； it left her in shadow？ Yet she did not。 Perhaps her love for Greg was so plete that it never occurred to her to hate him。 Certainly she envied his relationship with Ellis Nunn； and yet whatever her lack； she saw it as her father's fault； not Greg's。
But； in another way； it was perfectly understandable that she should hold her brother blameless for the excesses of her family。 Greg was her lone ally in her skirmishes with her parents； and to exclude him from her life would be to threaten her very existence。
But with Greg gone from Diana's Garden； Tori discovered that her desire to get as far away from Los Angeles as possible overshadowed everything else。
Japan。
Where a fire awaited her； burning in the darkness of her night。
Perhaps sensei discerned the blackness inside her； but if so； he made no ment on it。 Sensei was a believer in hard work … in discipline； he once told Tori； is the answer to every problem。
Either he was mistaken or Tori was unable to absorb his teachings deeply enough。 In either case； Tori graduated from his arduous course of training…the only woman to make it all the way through…without having successfully confronted the specters within her own night。
This was the state in which Bernard Godwin found her： dangerous； her nerves hair…trigger fine； walking the edge between trouble and death； and getting a hell of a kick out of it。
In fact； when she remembered the moment of her first meeting with Bernard Godwin； what stuck out most was that she had almost gotten him killed。
He had found her in an akachochin called The Happily Ever After。 The after…hours club was in the wrong end of Nihon…bashi…God knows how Bernard even found it。 Walking into the place was like being sucked into a whirlpool in the center of a cesspit。
A Yakuza underboss approximately as large as Godzilla was hitting on her。 She didn't mind； she liked his tattoos： flames； everywhere flames； eating gods； demons； mythical animals； and fierce swordsmen with indiscriminate greed。 The flames made her think of exorcism； turning filth to oily smoke； purging sacred ground that had been made profane； purifying the night。
Just before Bernard Godwin came down the stairs in The Happily Ever After； she remembered posing the first line of a reply to the letter she had just received from her brother： It's all right； Greg。 I'm doing the best I can。 Smiling up at Godzilla； the Japanese gangster full of fantastic flames。 Yessir； she thought。 He's evil； he's nasty； and he's all mine。
Then Bernard Godwin had introduced himself。 It was not a happy moment； for either Tori or Godzilla。 Neither of them wanted to be interrupted。 Then Bernard Godwin said that he had a proposition for Tori； but first she must e away with him out of this place； and all hell broke loose。
Godzilla might have been huge； but he was astonishingly quick。 This was his turf； and he was nothing if not intensely territorial。 Bernard had muscled in on his property； and Godzilla was enraged。 He displayed his displeasure by picking Bernard up in one meat…hook fist and shaking him until Bernard's teeth rattled。
〃Stop it！〃 Tori said。
Godzilla ignored her。 A small blade snicke