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All at once Honno's blood froze。 She was looking right at Eikichi。 Her husband making love to another man。 It was inconceivable。 This must be a painting or a photograph； Honno thought。 It cannot be real。 She felt dizzy。 And then Mama…san's words flooded back through her。 Mama…san had spoken of Kojimachi。 Kojimachi was one of Tokyo's poshest neighborhoods。 It was where Eikicki had grown up； where he went to high school。 It was where his parents lived； where he aspired to live。 If a man owns no respect； then he is nothing； and his life is but coins sifting through his fingers。 Mama…san； in her oblique way； had been trying to prepare Honno for this scene。
''Honno…san！'' Eikichi screeched。 ''How dare you e here！ How dare you lie to me！ How dare you spy on me！〃 The look of contempt on his face was acid。 〃Well； why should I be surprised？ You're hinoeuma。 Oh； yes； I know。 Stupid you！〃 Seeing the look of dread and shame on her face； he was not about to stop now。 There was a kind of gleeful malevolence that seemed to bubble out of him like lava from the mouth of a volcano。 〃Your father came to see my parents a month before our wedding。 He was concerned； you see； for their reputation； their standing in the munity。 He wanted some remuneration for his information and； because I got to him before he had a chance to speak to my parents； I paid him off myself。 Why not？ His information was valuable to me； although not in any way he could suspect； the poor fool。 I saw it as a lever to keep you in line； just in case you rebelled at some point； willful girl that you are； against my true lifestyle。〃 He drew the thin young man back to him； lovingly embraced him。 〃Now； hinoeuma woman； get out of here； so I can finish what I've started！〃
Honno wanted to cry out； but she could not。 Just like that； with the thunderclap of Eikichi's voice； reality was brought home to her。 She turned away； too horrified； too out of control； to answer him。
She tore past Big Ezoe； raced back down the stairs； through the entryway； out into the courtyard。 Running barefoot into me darkness beneath the maples； where the tiny sounds of the koi pool could fort her； where the lazy； somnolent fish could soothe away the fever burning inside her。
Then she turned away and； to her horror； vomited in a series of wracking convulsions。 She gave a little moan； and crawling to the edge of the pool； lowered her face beneath the water。 Coolness surrounded her； and she opened her eyes to the darkness； the life beneath me water。
When she rose； gasping； from below； she saw Big Ezoe sitting on the other side of the pool。 He handed her her shoes。 She was so humiliated she could not face him。
〃You bastard；〃 she said； 〃you knew about Eikichi all along。〃 She was gasping for breath； as if she had been running for a very long time。 〃How long has he been ing here？〃
''Three years；'' Big Ezoe said。 ''Nothing about meeting you； courting you； marrying you； changed his schedule。〃
〃Because I am hinoeuma； born in the year of the husband killer；〃 Honno said miserably。
Big Ezoe looked off into the night。 There were fireflies out； and here beside the koi pool； beneath the maples； it was possible to forget all about Tokyo； the hypermodern superstructures； the official bribery and corruption； the race into the twenty…first century； which was the national task that the Japanese had set for themselves。 Now only the essence remained； the hard； cruel lessons of a far simpler time； the time of the warrior for which Yukio Mishima longed； about which Big Ezoe knew so much。
''It has nothing to do with what you think you are；〃 Big Ezoe said。 〃It is him。 What Eikichi Kansei is： a product of the times。 As Mama…san tried to tell you。 She knows your husband far better than you do。〃
Eikichi's sadistic invective echoed in her mind。 The humiliation of her pathetic lot in life overwhelmed her； and she thought she was going to be sick again。 She had been systematically beaten down at home； first by her father； and then by Eikichi； whom she could see now was the only kind of man she could have chosen to be her husband： rigid； brutal； repressive。 How could she have mistaken such inhumanity for honor？ Obedience had blinded her。
And as for her job？ Now she understood her role there； as well。 She served the same purpose as the wallpaper in the halls： she was elegant； soothing； ever obedient。 This was not only the definition of what she was； but what she would always be。 She had as much knowledge and schooling as the male executives beside whom she served daily。 But no one would listen to her opinions or ideas。 What place did a woman have in business？ Kunio Michita had given her the answer to that when he had ignored her idea for Tandom Polycarbon。 Again she had been betrayed by her sense of obedience。 And she realized in a thoroughly disheartening moment that she had always known what her place was in business； and at home。
Home？ What home？ Her childhood had been a cruel mockery； and her marriage an absolute sham。
She felt as if she had just awakened from a long dream； from a sojourn in a world where she must hold her tongue； underu…tilize her brain； instead look cool and beautiful； be the whipping girl for her bitter father； be an obedient automaton for Michita and a walking billboard for Eikichi。
Honno at last gathered the strength to look up at Big Ezoe。 〃Now I see there are worlds within worlds；〃 she said。 〃Like this private bower within the city。 And worlds within those worlds； like this koi pond within this bower。 Which is the real world？〃
Big Ezoe； sitting across the expanse of dark； lapping water； said； 〃You have just learned that lesson； Mrs。 Kansei。 There is no real world。 There is only your world。〃
FIVE
LLANO NEGRO
On a tree at the near edge of the llano negro； Tori discovered a series of carvings。 They were crude yet powerful。 They depicted a baby； a bent； old man； a man with no legs； a man nailed to a cross； a man with no eyes： a dead man。
〃What the hell does this mean？〃 Russell said。
〃Myth；〃 Estilo said。
〃I don't believe in myths；〃 Russell said； turning away。 He was scanning the immediate environment； a quadrant at a time。
Estilo said； ''Jorge Luis Borges； our most famous poet； wrote that myth is merely reality simplified to a point where it can be understood。〃
Russell turned around。 〃And you believe that？〃
Tori； ing up to Russell； said softly； 〃It's important to believe it here in the field。 Especially here in the jungle we don't know。 It's dangerous to assume that reality and myth are two separate entities； because out here they serve the same purpose。〃
〃Why do you always feel the need to show me how superior you are？'' Russell said。
〃Because；〃 Tori told him； 〃you're a man and I'm not。〃
〃So what？〃
〃So isn't that part of why you think I 'm unreliable？''
〃You're out of your mind。''
〃Am I ？〃
He looked at her for what seemed a long time。 〃It's getting late。〃
They pushed on past the carvings； through the trees and the encroaching underbrush； until they were swallowed up by llano negro； the black jungle。
Toward midday they paused for a break。 It was hideously hot and humid； and all of them were drenched in sweat。 They passed