In troubled times,

It's hard to get straight answers,

Between the lines

That border wrong or right.

The homeland cries

and struggles with confusion.

But this feeling still remains.

It's shelter from the rain.

I sensed the intruder even before I heard him coming, and that was scary, but I should be used to that by now. After training with the Master for over a year, I was getting pretty good at some of this ninja stuff. If anyone had told me a couple of years back that I would be traveling around the country with a ninja, learning to run faster, fight harder; even learn to walk a tightrope and handle exotic weapons, I probably would have laughed in his face. But that was before I met John Peter McAllister. Now there isn't much that surprises me.

When I first met him, I thought he was a tough old guy who'd gotten in over his head, so I went charging to his rescue. After I found out what he could do, I was embarrassed--me offering to help him? Lucky for me, he took it all in the right spirit, and these days we get along great.

I don't get into fights any more--at least not without a damned good reason--and It's been over three months since I got tossed out a bar window. The Master says if I can go six months, we have to celebrate, but I can tell he's proud of my progress and that feels good. I'd go through fire for him if he asked me to, but I never told him that. He probably knows anyway. He's scary sometimes. Comes of all that ninja training. He can see things that aren't there--I've seen him do it. He can feel things too, and sometimes tell when something's going to happen. I don't know how he does that. Running the four-minute mile I can figure out. After all, I've learned a lot about how to control my body since I met him; breathing, heartbeat and stuff like that. Sure, I can do more, but that's because I'm in better shape. But he still comes out with the scary stuff once in awhile. Not me. I'm just plain Max Keller, ninja student. Like Han Solo once said, "There's no mystical energy field that controls my destiny."

I told that to the Master once when he was pulling some ninja mumbo jumbo and he only smiled--he's got this kind of gentle smile that he uses when he's trying not to laugh at me--and said, "Are you sure, Max?" I knew better than to push it. That's what It's like when you travel with a ninja.

Anyway, he must have been right, because I'd been sitting on the beach in the lotus position--you'd have laughed if you'd seen me the first time I tried it. Here's me, in great shape, or so I thought, getting all tangled up, and here's McAllister, older than my dad for chrissakes, helping me get untangled. I'm practicing meditation because the Master says I've got to learn how to make myself still instead of going off like a grenade in all directions. I'm not very good at It. Anything gets past my concentration: the sound of a plane flying overhead, the thought of a pretty girl, the idea of dinner. Today, though, I was doing pretty good. I was floating out somewhere in the asteroid belt, tranquil and easy, enjoying the whole thing because I felt so free. One minute I was totally at peace, the next, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end and I was looking around for a shuriken to throw at whatever had disturbed me.

Of course, the Master knew someone was coming before I did, but he waited to see what I'd do, and when I came out of my trance, alert and ready for trouble, his eyes lit up. He knew I'd done something I didn't think I could, and he was proud of me. It felt great.

But I didn't have time to bask in the glow of achievement. Instead, I jerked around and saw a guy crossing the sand toward us--we were on a deserted beach a ways south of San Francisco. The guy wore a business suit, which looked out of place on a beach, but the way he walked warned me that I shouldn't dismiss him as an office type. He moved like a ninja. There was a controlled power radiating from him and I knew I should think twice before crossing him.

Since he left Japan a year ago, the Master has been pursued by Okasa, one of his former students who's out to kill him for leaving the sect. Okasa's a paranoid type who thinks the Master's going to betray the secrets of the ninja, which is a lot of crap. McAllister doesn't think much of the way Okasa and his buddies have gone back to the old ways of the ninja, which is why he came back to the United States. To get revenge, Okasa and the others decided to have his killed. Real loyal students. It had to hurt the old fellow. After all, he'd taught them and they turned on him.

I think Okasa must have been pretty close to the Master back then, maybe almost like a son, and in spite of what Okasa is pulling now, the Master still has some feelings for him. But Okasa is a subject we don't get into very deep. He knows I don't trust the man, but I don't push it any more than that, and he's never offered to tell me more than the bare facts. That's okay. We've all got things we'd rather not talk about. Okasa was that for the Master.

But the character coming toward us wasn't Okasa. For one thing, he was a lot taller and a few years younger. He was Japanese though. When I saw that, I went for a shuriken as quietly as I could. I wasn't about to let this guy get the drop on McAllister.

The Master recognized him. Though he can keep his feeling hidden most of the time, this once he let his surprise show. He rose to meet the man and I unwound myself and jumped up too.

The Japanese guy looked to be only a couple of years older than me, if that, but he was a whole lot sore formal. He marched stiffly up to the Master, made him an elaborate bow and said, "Sensei."

"Sato-san," the Master countered.

Then the guy went off in a long spiel in rapid Japanese, his face solemn and wary, his hands held out a little in front like he was trying to show us he didn't have a weapon. If I didn't know how fast a ninja could produce a hidden weapon, I might have relaxed a little, but I've seen McAllister come up with a weapon in the blink of an eye. If this guy was a ninja too, he was dangerous, even with his hands empty. I kept a good grip on my shuriken and balanced myself lightly on the balls of my feet, ready to fight if necessary.

But after a few minutes, the Master gestured for silence. "In English, please. My student doesn't understand."

And damned if he didn't bow to me. Nothing so fancy as he'd given the Master, but a short, ritualistic bow. I glanced at the Master and he inclined his head slightly, so I gave the guy a bow back. I felt pretty silly doing it too.

"I am Akira Sato," the man announced. "I too have studied with the Master in his dojo in Japan."

"I thought you guys were out to kill him." I was wary and not very friendly.

"You are correct. Many of them are. I, too, was prepared to try, should Okasa fail."

"Not with me around to stop you," I said.

The Master's eyes twinkled. Okay, maybe I'm not a full-fledged ninja yet, but I can help out if necessary. Sato didn't have a chance against both of us. I grimaced. The Master could handle him without any help from me; who was I kidding. But I wasn't going to stand there and let this character try something.

"You do your Master credit with your loyalty," said Sato. "I have learned that I have been mistaken in my desire to kill him. That is why I'm here. I thought I sided with Okasa, but now I see that I was wrong. The Master is right. The old ways are gone. Some of Okasa's allies agree with him because the Master is American; they are reluctant to learn new methods from a foreigner. Some follow Okasa because they believe in his philosophy. And others follow because of the excitement of the kill. And there are still others who do not agree with Okasa and I have become one of them. I am here to offer my services, Master, should they be needed, to defeat Okasa."

"I don't want to defeat him. I want to leave him alone," explained McAllister.

"But he won't leave you alone," I objected. "Maybe Sato's right. Maybe we should take him on."

"And kill him, Max?" the old fellow asked me solemnly. His eyes locked with mine and he waited for my answer.

After a moment I got uncomfortable and looked away. "No, I guess not," I admitted. "If I did that, I'd be his kind of ninja, and I don't want that. But if we don't stop him, he might kill you someday and I don't know if I could live with myself if I let him."

"Max, you're not a killer. When we met, I knew you were hot-headed and quick-tempered, but your anger burns out quickly. You weren't a killer then, and nothing I've taught you has changed that. You fight--if there is no alternative. You kill only as a last resort. Killing is never the solution to a problem. Sometimes it's unavoidable, but not until all other options have been exhausted. I told Okasa I would never again kill my enemy in cold blood, and I won't."

"I agree with you, Sensei," said Sato. "I would join you and continue my training. Would you so honor me?"

"I don't have a dojo here, and Max is my only pupil because we travel around. I can't accept you as a pupil now." McAllister spoke quickly, as though he sensed the other man's disappointment. "But I don't think Max would mind if you traveled with us for a while. I'd like to hear more about you, and the others. I also think it would do Max good to practice with someone at your level. Max?" He turned to look at me. "The van's yours, so is the decision. Sato shouldn't be too far ahead of you, and it would help you to have him to work out with."

I didn't want Sato to join us. The Master and I were pretty good companions and I enjoyed traveling with him. Let's face it, I was kind of possessive. McAllister was my master now. He'd left the others behind and I didn't want one of them to intrude and take my place. In my head I knew that was stupid. My place was mine and Sato's was his. The Master wasn't going to be less my friend because Sato was there too. But it's easier to say that than to feel it. If Sato stayed, he'd spoil things.

Then I looked at the Master. The old fellow was smiling at Sato and I could see he was dying to talk to him, reminisce about the old times in Japan, ask about mutual friends. And he was thrilled that one of his former students had not only seen the error of his ways, but traveled all the way to America to tell his old teacher. Besides, if I tried to keep McAllister's friends away, I'd be a pretty lousy pupil and an even lousier friend.

"Sure, why not? I could use someone to match up with." I spoke quickly. "You two must have a lot to catch up on."

Sato smiled, looking eager and excited. It had to be just me being stupid and maybe a little jealous that made me think he looked triumphant. I wasn't ready to trust him. He'd been on Okasa's side and Okasa hadn't shown any sign of a change of heart. Of course that didn't mean Sato couldn't. I hoped like mad that Sato was telling the truth. If this was another plot, the Master was going to be hurt.

Everything seemed on the up and up though. Sato and the Master sat down on the sand and started talking a mile a minute in Japanese. I'd known McAllister spoke the language since he'd lived there so long, but the only Japanese words I'd heard from him had been "shuriken" and "kasarifundo" and the names of other ancient weapons he'd taught me to use. It seemed funny to hear him speaking Japanese.

They shared a big laugh, then McAllister remembered I was there too. "I'm sorry, Max. We were reminiscing about some old friends."

"Sure, go ahead."

But the old fellow switched back to English and Sato took his lead. He was pretty good too. Better than Okasa who spoke it okay, but slower and with a heavier accent. This guy was kind of formal and nobody would ever believe English was his native language, but he was fluent and didn't have to think before he talked very often.

"What of Aiko?" McAllister continued his questions.

"She is well. She misses you."

This was more interesting. Did I detect a romance? But no such luck.

"Who takes care of her now?"

"Okasa, when he is at home. When he is away, one of the others."

"Who's Aiko?" I asked.

"My cat." McAllister sounded like he was trying not to laugh at my assumption. Oh well, so I was curious. The old guy had to have had some kind of female companionship between Laura Kennedy and Maggie Sinclair. Nobody could go for thirty years without a little action and I thought I'd find out what I could. He continued, "I had to leave her behind. I knew the others would never harm her."

"She is safe," agreed Sato. "But Mrs. Wellington has often asked about you."

McAllister shot me a pointed look. "I can read your mind, Max."

"So I'm not very subtle."

"Mrs. Wellington was a friend." McAllister explained. "Someone to speak English to. I missed that. She was attached to the embassy in Tokyo, something to do with Intelligence. I think she was supposed to keep an eye on me." He grinned. "I didn't have much to hide and she was good company."

"Yeah, and you're pretty sneaky," I accused him with a smile. "You probably had her fooled."

"Me?" The Master was the picture of innocence. "I had no secrets."

"Not much," I retorted.

"She did not trust Okasa," said Sato softly. "Sometimes she believed that Okasa was your tool, sent out at your instructions. I do not think she wanted to believe that, but her superiors insisted she follow up on it. Afterwards, when you were gone, Yorimitsu went to her and told her the truth about you and Okasa. I think she regretted that her position had made her doubt you." He grew solemn. "Okasa killed Yorimitsu," he added reluctantly,

"Because he defended me?" asked the Master in the tones of someone who doesn't really want to hear the answer.

"In part. They were at odds from the beginning and Yorimitsu chose to follow your example. He planned to leave as you had."

I saw something flash in the old fellow's eyes and cut in quickly, "It's not your fault. He made his choice the same as you did."

"He was my pupil, Max. He was younger than you and inexperienced, no match for Okasa. The responsibility is mine."

"No, it's not," I insisted. "You can't lives someone else's life for him. Besides," I added, struggling with a concept I still found difficult to accept, "it sound like he died an honorable death."

McAllister's face eased up a little. "Thank you, Max," he said quietly, turning back to Sato. "Do you have any other unpleasant surprises for me?"

"No. I am sorry, master. I thought you should know that Yorimitsu honored you in the manner of his death. He died well and won respect from Okasa, his enemy."

Maybe that would have consoled Okasa, or Sato, but it wouldn't have made me feel any better. I sneaked a look at the Master and I could see it had helped him only a little. He might have spent thirty years in the ninja tradition, but he'd grown up in the west and hadn't totally assimilated all that eastern philosophy. He was mourning Yorimitsu, something that Sato probably wouldn't understand.

I glanced at Sato, sitting there on the beach in his suit, watching the Master too. I wondered if he didn't think Americans were too soft to be ninjas. I didn't think caring had made McAllister soft. I'd seen him fight too often for that. Maybe cultural clashes like this had led Okasa to go his own way.

McAllister changed the subject. "How is your training going?" I didn't blame him.

Sato started to catalog his lessons and I listened to that part, interested, too. If I was going to practice with the guy, I wanted to know what I'd be up against. Funny, though, he didn't seem all that far ahead of me. Well, I still had to see how he fought, but he wasn't saying anything I hadn't heard before. For the first time I started looking forward to practicing with him.

"Where are you staying?" McAllister asked. "And how did you find me?"

"Finding you was luck," Sato admitted. "I spoke with many people and learned of your travels. I saw Takarada in Seattle and he told me you were moving toward Los Angeles."

Takarada was a martial arts expert we'd visited a few weeks back. He'd known the Master in Japan before he'd gone to Seattle to open a school. I don't know whether it was professional courtesy, or whether the Master missed the old days and wanted to recover some of It, but we visited a lot of dojos as we traveled.

I got the feeling sometimes that McAllister thought he'd been a failure with everything he'd tried; living in Japan, teaching ninjutsu, trying to find his daughter, even the old relationship with Teri's mother. He'd told me no one could get along with Laura Kennedy, but he'd thought he could. Everybody had been right about her, I guess, since she'd walked out on him without leaving an address or bothering to tell hit she was pregnant. That had to bug him, especially since he'd lost thirty years of his daughter's life.

But I didn't think he was a failure. One thing I guess he taught me is that success or failure can't be measured in things you can touch and feel, like a Mercedes or a house in the suburbs. It's what you are inside that counts, and I never met anyone in my life with more inner strength than John Peter McAllister.

Anyway, we left the beach and went back to my van. A rental car was parked behind it. "That is mine," explained Sato. "Okasa told me of your van, so that was how I knew I had finally found you."

"Okasa?" I asked, starting to get suspicious all over again.

"Yes, six months ago before I decided to leave the sect."

We arranged for him to return the car, then ride with us. My van can hold three, but not indefinitely; and not comfortably. I knew I was being stupid, but I still didn't want him to come with us. I liked things the way they were; traveling, learning my lessons, and sometimes, in the evenings, just sitting around and talking. Consciously or unconsciously, he was always teaching me, and it was great having someone in my corner when things got rough. I knew no one had better try to cross him when I was around.

Luckily, Sato didn't try to cross him. He returned his car and joined us in the van just as we'd planned. My hamster, Henry, ignored him and he ignored Henry. Nothing proved there--the girls fell for Henry; he gets them every time. Sato merely said, "You have a pet," and let the subject go. I started to wonder if I couldn't put him to work cleaning out the cage. Henry might be my friend, but he wasn't very neat.

"So how'd you get into this ninja stuff?" I asked Sato as we headed south on the Pacific Coast Highway for L.A. We were heading down there for a visit with my dad since the search for Teri had fizzled in Seattle.

"It was partly the Master," Sato said. "I knew of his reputation and hoped I would be able to learn much from him. And partly because my grandfather was ninja. My father chose not to follow him, but I hoped to restore the family honor by returning to the life of my ancestors."

I wondered in people in Japan really went on like that, or if Sato was just trying to put something into words that didn't come easily in a foreign language. "So you went to the Master's school?"

"Yes. As you know he is an excellent teacher. He has many gifts and knows how to express them. Not everyone skilled in ninjutsu can teach."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." I remembered my high school chemistry teacher who had forgotten more about his subject than I would ever know. The Master was just the opposite, and I'd been lucky enough to get private lessons.

"Master, you permit?" Sato looked over to McAllister.

"Go ahead," the Master said with that grin of his. "I have no secrets from Max."

Sato turned back to me. "The Master was the first Occidental to become ninja. There were many who were skeptical of him which made it hard for him to establish his dojo. By the time I began my lessons, few people were concerned for that. I believe Okasa was one of the skeptics, but after he had trained with the Master he became a convert."

"You think he was planning on taking over even then?" I asked.

"No," said McAllister quietly. "Not then. Later, when he wanted to accept certain jobs and I spoke against them, did we start to go in different directions. I was reluctant to do anything about it at first. That was my mistake. If I had taken a firmer stand earlier on, things might have been different. Instead I hoped that if I tried to see his viewpoint, he'd try to see mine."

"He didn't, though," I remarked. "I knew he couldn't be trusted."

"You've never understood Okasa, Max."

"Well, explain him, then," I insisted. "I'm not that dumb. I can figure it out."

"I'm not sure you can. I'm talking about hundreds of years of cultural indoctrination." He smiled. "If it's any consolation to you, I don't think he understands you either."

"And there you are, right in the middle."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

I wondered. It sounded like the kind of thing he usually said, but things had to be hard on him. There had to be times when he felt he didn't fit into either of the conflicting cultures.

But all I did was grin at him before pursuing the subject. "Okay, you're saying that Okasa never really came around to what you were teaching him?"

"He did a little," said Sato. "I think if he had not, he would have killed the Master already. Some of what he practices is more the ethics of John Peter McAllister than it is of the ninja."

Now that was interesting, but the Master shook his head. "No, Sato. He believes too deeply in the old ways. I didn't kill him when I had the chance back in Ellerston when I first met, Max. That means he has to make sure his dealings with me are honorable ones. In a way, I shamed him by refusing to kill him. I didn't mean to do that, but I won't kill that way again, which is something he doesn't understand. Max, in many ways he was like my son, but that wouldn't have stopped me from killing him in the old days if I had thought it necessary. His feelings for me, if he still has any, would not stop him. He might regret his duty, but he won't give it up."

"A lot more rules I don't understand," I said. "I'll never be that kind of ninja."

"I hope not. If you did, it would be against everything I've taught you."

I grinned. "Don't worry about me. I hear you."

"I know you do, Max." He turned to Sato. "Does Okasa know why you've come?"

"Yes."

"Then he's after you too?"

"Yes." Sato shrugged, a gesture he might have copied from the Master because it didn't look particularly Japanese. "I can't change that, so, like you, I will live with it."

We stopped about mid-afternoon in a sheltered spot, and the Master set Sato and me against each other with staffs. I wasn't sure how good this more experienced man would be, but at first he didn't seem any better than I was. He was quick and knew his stuff, but he didn't have the flair I'd have expected from the Master's pupil. He fended me off easily enough, but he didn't take the initiative. I wondered if he was holding back to make me look good for the Master or to win me over by letting me beat him.

I thought I'd try to find out, so I pushed a little harder and he responded in kind, fending me off, but not starting anything. Maybe he was trying to wear me down before he began his attack? We'll see about that, I thought, and fell into a steady rhythm, matching him blow for blow while the Master sat off to one side, holding back his comments, instead of serving up his usual running commentary.

But the longer I fought with Sato, the more I wondered if he just wasn't as good as he should have been. The fact that he'd been the Master's pupil didn't mean he had any natural talent. I like to tell myself I pick up this ninja stuff kind of quick, but the Master never says a thing one way or the other. Probably trying to keep my ego from getting out of hand.

I was winning. Sato kept blocking me, but it was harder for him than it should have been. I got through his guard more than once when I shouldn't have. I kept telling myself that it might be a trick, that he might suddenly pounce and take me out, but he didn't, and finally I got in close and sent his staff flying from his hands. He grabbed after it, but missed and conceded defeat by bowing to me. "You fight well."

"So do you." Well, I could hardly say anything else.

"I fear I am out of practice," he admitted, turning to the Master. "I apologize to you. You taught me better than that."

"How long has It been?" asked the Master.

"Since my last practice? Two weeks."

The Master only looked at him, and Sato continued quickly, "I know that it is too long, but I have been traveling, searching for you and found no partners."

That had never stopped Okasa. But Okasa was a man with a mission and couldn't afford to let himself get out of practice. I don't know what Sato had planned for himself after leaving the sect, but maybe he didn't plan on remaining a ninja. For me, that wasn't one of the choices. If I stopped my lessons with the Master, I'd still work out and keep what I'd learned, not let it trickle away.

"You can get back into your routine now," the Master told him. "I don't want you to lose your abilities."

"No, neither do I, Master."

We practiced again with a variety of the ancient weapons, and Sato was pretty good with some of them. We threw shuriken at a target, and he had a real dead eye for that. I'm no slouch myself, but I'm not exactly world class yet. Anyway, the Master watched us both and made a few suggestions.

After that we called a halt and went to dinner, stopping at the local truck stop. Sato had changed into ninja robes for the lessons and so had I--still a little self-conscious because I'd only been wearing them for a few weeks, and then only because the Master kept telling me I was ready. When we changed back, Sato left the formal suit behind and put on jeans and a shirt, and he looked a lot less alien. But when we were seated and the waitress took our order, she knew he was foreign and gave him an interested look, ignoring me. I didn't like that too such.

"You fight well, Max," he told me when she left the table.

"I had a good teacher."

"I had a good student." McAllister looked pleased with me and I wondered if it was just that I'd had a good practice session or if he was glad I was getting along with Sato.

"We can be at your dad's place by lunchtime tomorrow," he reminded me. "Maybe you should call and let him know you're coming."

"I could." I get along pretty good with my dad these days, but there was a time not that long ago that we had had a real failure to communicate. The Master had had a lot to do with our reconciliation. We're friends now, but there're a lot of areas where things aren't exactly copacetic.

So I went out to the lobby and put through a phone call. I got his answering service and left a quick message. "It's Max. I'll be by tomorrow. Hope you can take some time off."

Walking back to the dining room, I knew that he would if he could. And that made me feel good since it hadn't always been that way. I paused in the doorway to watch the Master and Sato laughing together, talking eagerly as if they had more than a year to catch up on. I dithered there for a moment, half-expecting to feel jealous--I used to be pretty possessive--but I wasn't. I backed up and waited outside for about five minutes before going back to the table.

As I seated myself, the Master asked, "I thought you'd gotten lost, Max. Was it the waitress?"

"I wish," I said. "No, the line was busy; it took longer than I thought to get through." I pulled my plate closer. "Looks good."

If he knew I'd just won a kind of battle, he didn't say anything, telling Sato some of our adventures since our first meeting in Ellerton. Sato listened with flattering interest. The Master made a good story of it; he always does. Sometimes he can pull a good joke with a completely straight face and it took me awhile to learn when I was being teased.

McAllister told Sato how we had helped the farmers of Riverton get their crops to market in spite of Hellman's plans to take over, his face softening when he mentioned Maggie Sinclair. Sato listened with a smile, saying, "You have had some strange experiences, Master. Is that how you've been using your skills, aiding the helpless?"

Maggie Sinclair is one of the least helpless people I've ever met. The Master grinned, probably thinking the same thing. "It's a valid use of my abilities."

"Okasa would not agree. Our skills should be for hire--at least that's what he would say."

"I am not for hire." I wouldn't want to cross the Master when he spoke in that tone of voice.

"You give away that which you should retain," Sato protested.

"Okasa has taught you well," said McAllister. "If someone needs my help, I won't deny him. I have hired my skills in the past and I have killed for hire. When I left the sect, I vowed never to do that again. If you disagree with that, why did you come looking for me?"

"I do not disagree. But what you say is contrary to what I have learned all my life. That's not easy to accept. I must still have some.. .conditioned reflexes." He smiled appeasingly. "I apologize, Master. You are correct, but I would hire my skills for certain purposes, to protect those who need protection."

"And if those who need protection can't pay, would you leave them to their problems?"

"I'm human, Master. I must eat and have shelter. How do you support yourself?"

"We work when necessary. Certainly we haven't starved."

"I would enjoy the traveling, but I fear it distract me from my lessons."

"When you're in the real world, there will always be distractions. In that respect, Max is better prepared than those of you who haven't gone beyond the classroom. Even Okasa would say that you have to deal with the distractions before you can be sure of your abilities."

"I do not listen to Okasa."

"You just quoted him," I reminded him.

"Habit," he replied and turned his attention to his meal.

That night, in our motel room, the Master said, "You don't like him, do you, Max?"

"I don't know him." I was stalling and he knew it.

"You've put up with him pretty well." He opened his suitcase and took out a clean shirt for the morning. "I'm glad to see someone from the old days. I hope he means what he says about seeing the error of Okasa's ways."

"Aren't you sure?" I asked in surprise.

"I can't read minds, Max."

"You read mine all the time."

"That's different."

"How? Because dumb old Max can't keep anything secret?"

"No." He took my shoulder and shook me lightly. "Because you're my friend. I haven't seen him in more than a year. He was always Okasa's disciple, which is why I'm surprised he's had a change of heart. I hope it's genuine, because I'd like to trust him, but I can't be sure. If my life was the only one at risk, that would be one thing, but you're involved, too. I told him he could travel with us so I could keep an eye on him. If he makes any mistakes, I'll know."

"He made one at dinner," I pointed out. "Talking about our skills being for hire."

"I'm not so sure. If he was really on Okasa's side, I believe he would have been more careful."

"So if he's on our side, be can say he isn't, and you'll believe him? Is that the Oriental mind at work?"

The Master laughed. "Something like that, Max. I doubt Okasa would send someone that inept."

"Maybe it's a double bluff. Okasa would know you'd think that way, so he chose someone who might goof things up to keep you from being suspicious."

"That's pretty complicated, Max."

"Okasa is complicated," I argued. "Sneaky too. I'm going to keep an eye on Sato. If he makes any real mistakes, I'll be there."

"I'll be watching him, too." He smiled as he set his bag on the floor and pulled down his bedspread. "I've enjoyed talking to him though."

I shed my shirt and sat down to take off my shoes. "You miss all that, don't you?" I asked softly. "The way it was before Okasa got out of hand?"

"Yes, I do. I never thought of anything but becoming a ninja, and once I had, things went well for so long, I thought everything would always go my way. I was wrong." He shrugged. "We're doing all right here, aren't we?"

"You got it."

"So we'll take things as they come."

I hoped Sato wouldn't cause trouble. I didn't want the Master getting hurt.

The morning brought one of those perfect sunny days that California was known for. Since I'd grown up in New York before dad came west to practice law, I still got a kick out of the weather as we drove down to L.A. Sato enjoyed the view of the Pacific, and took note of a lot of things I wouldn't have bothered with; the type of houses we passed, the cars, the people. I guess I took it all for granted. Seeing it through a stranger's eyes made me look all over again.

I was pretty much in sympathy with Sato that morning. He'd loosened up a lot and rattled on to the Master like a kid. McAllister got a kick out of him, too, I could tell. He was enjoying himself, but I could tell he hadn't completely let his guard down. It's not easy to sneak up on a ninja, and even though Sato was also one, he was a lot closer to my level, and I'd never been able to sneak up on McAllister.

If Sato meant to try to take his out, he'd have to be really sure of his time. For one thing, I was there, and can handle myself pretty well in a crisis, if I do say so myself. From our practice together, I had a pretty good feel for the way he fought. Unless he was good enough to consistently look so-so, then I had his measure.

The problem was, I could keep an eye on him while I was there, but I'd be spending time with my dad, and that would leave McAllister alone with Sato. I wasn't worried about the Master as long as Sato was the only one in the picture, but if he had anything to do with Okasa, the two of them could take him out while I wasn't there. I half wished I could get out of the visit, but I knew I couldn't. Besides, Dad wouldn't expect me to stay more than a day or two.

McAllister dropped me off at Dad's office and went off with Sato to restock our supplies, and I went in. Dad's secretary, Laura Crane would be there. I liked Laura, although we hadn't quite hit it off at first. She'd been worried about my dad who was still drinking heavily then, and she hadn't thought I'd be able to handle it.

Laura is blind, but I sometimes forget it because she's compensated so well. She's been really great for Dad, and even though she's closer to my age than hers, I've wondered if they wouldn't get married some day. So far, no sign of it though.

But when I walked into the office, there was a stranger sitting at Laura's desk. She was brisk and efficient-looking, middle-aged with no attempt to conceal it, and she was rattling away at the typewriter almost fast enough to set a new typing record. She whipped off the rest of the page of the letter or brief or whatever it was in about ten seconds flat, then she turned to me. "You must be Max."

"That's right, but who are you? Where's Laura?"

"I'm filling in for her while she's in the hospital," the women explained, "I'm Mrs. Rafferty."

"Hospital? What's wrong with her?"

"Eye surgery." Suddenly I remembered that when I'd first come back here, Dad had said that Laura had lost her sight in an accident and that there was a possibility she could regain her sight in an operation.

"How's she doing?" I asked eagerly.

"Your father will tell you. He's expecting you. Why don't you go on in?"

I hoped that didn't mean that Laura's surgery hadn't gone well. I went over and poked my head in the door. Dad was reading a report, but when I came in, he laid it aside and got up to give me a hug. "Hi, Max, It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too. How're you doing?"

"I'm still dry," he announced proudly. "Laura keeps me going."

"What's this about her being in the hospital?"

"The doctors thought they could restore vision in her right eye. They operated this morning. Dr. Maitland thinks the operation was a success, though they won't know how much so for a few more days."

"That's great," I enthused. "Laura's a special lady."

"That she is, Max." He waved me into a chair. "How about you? Any luck finding McAllister's daughter?"

"Nope, we were just up in Seattle checking out a lead, but it fell through."

"And where's your surrogate father now?" A few months back that question would have been dripping with sarcasm, but not so much now. Guess we're both learning.

"One of his students from Japan showed up and they're out having a reunion."

Dad wouldn't be the lawyer he is without being pretty quick on the uptake. "Do you mind?"

"Not so I'll let it show," I replied. "I don't quite trust the guy, but the Master can handle him. I can handle him if I have to. We worked out together yesterday and I won. And he's been at it a couple of years longer than I have too."

"And you're a scrapper," said Dad, smiling broadly. "That Keller stubbornness counts for something."

"I got it from you," I told him and was glad to see his smile turn into a grin.

We talked a lot of personal stuff then that has nothing to do with this story, but it was a good talk. I'd told him once that I didn't have the right words, but they were getting easier. He loved words and could twist them to win court cases, but I could tell when he was straight with me.

When he had to go to court, I went looking for the motel where the Master was going to stay. Ordinarily we both would have stayed with Dad, but McAllister didn't think we should take Sato there. I was glad he'd been the one to say so because it came better from him, but I wasn't about to spring a stranger on Dad who had enough trouble dealing with the Master.

My van was nowhere in sight, but I got the room number and was heading toward it when I spotted Sato talking into a pay phone. I was pretty sure he hadn't seen me, but something made me duck back out of sight behind a pickup truck with a topper. I watched Sato through the topper and saw him shaking his head as he talked. He looked like he was pissed off at someone, but I couldn't guess who he might be calling. He obviously didn't want anyone to know about it or he'd have used the phone in the room.

I knew I couldn't find out who he was calling by talking to the operator afterward, so I had to get close enough to hear what he had to say. Phantoms, the Master said. I could be invisible if I tried hard enough. Only I wouldn't be putting it to the test against just anyone but against another ninja, and that was a helluva lot harder.

I dropped down low and crept quietly around the front of the pick-up--and came face to face with a kid about seven, just coming out of one of the rooms. He looked at me like I was crazy and said in a loud voice, "Are you a spy, Mister?"

There was no way Sato wouldn't have heard that. "No," I said disgustedly. "I dropped a contact lens. Want to help me look for it, kid? If you find it, I'll give you a dollar."

That shut the kid up, and he got down on his hands and knees, looking industriously. I joined him, and when I dared raise my head again, the phone was deserted. I gave the kid a buck for trying and took off. If I showed up at the room now, Sato would know for sure I'd been watching him.

Instead, I went to a cafe across the street and took a window seat, prepared to nurse a cup of coffee as long as it took. The waitress was a looker, and she had the good taste to like me, but I had to put her off. Another black mark for Sato.

If anyone suspicious showed up, I missed him. I didn't see Okasa and from where I sat I had a perfect view of all the cars that went into the parking lot, and an unobstructed, though distant, view of the door to the Master's room. Nobody came or went the whole time I watched.

Around three the Master showed up with my van. I gave him ten minutes before I showed up so it wouldn't look like I'd been watching for him, then I went over and knocked on the door.

McAllister let me in. "There you are. I stopped by your dad's office and he was in court. I thought you'd be here."

"No," I said. "I had a couple of things to do. Have you been here long?"

"No, I just got back from the hospital."

"To see Laura?" I asked, not surprised to find out he already knew about the operation.

"Yes. She was still in recovery when I got there, so I waited until they moved her, and got to visit for a few minutes. I hope this operation helps her. She's a remarkable lady."

"I know. I bet Dad's having a hard time concentrating in court right now. I'm going to the hospital with him tonight." I wondered how I was going to tell him about the call. He might not make anything of it, but I'd feel better knowing he was aware of the situation--if that's what it was. Sato sight have been calling a girl friend or ordering a pizza for all I knew.

Since we had time to kill, the Master decided to give us another lesson. He never passes up a chance to put me to work. Given the size of the room, Sato and I couldn't exactly have a match, but we could do flips on the space between the foot of the beds and the door. I wondered what people in the adjoining rooms thought of the noise we had to be making.

"Come on, Max," urged the Master. "Your body knows how to move if you let it." He's always saying things like that.

Sato worked hard and came across like an eager-beaver student, willing to listen to whatever the Master had to say. McAllister liked that, I could tell. For a tough old guy, he can be kind of sentimental sometimes, although he was usually careful to hide it. When he let it show, I never knew exactly how to react--guess I preferred to think he wasn't vulnerable except where Teri was concerned.

We took a breather and Sato sat cross-legged on the floor. "I have questions," he announced.

McAllister looked at him warily. "Go ahead."

"Okasa feels strongly about the ninja traditions," he said. "I understand that. But you say times have changed and I think you may be right. The old days are gone, but do you stop being ninja when you turn away from what we have always believed?"

"That depends on your definition of ninja," replied the Master. "Nowadays the ninja has gotten a lot of publicity. There are even ninja schools in this country, started in the last few years. Okasa would say they are not truly ninja, and he may be right. I've picked up some of the magazines and just about anyone can order the ancient weapons. But that's a fad and will pass, leaving only the serious students. They will learn the traditional bodily control, the martial arts as well as an inner discipline. That is what makes a man a ninja--not the traditional image of a phantom in the night, an assassin. What a ninja is and what he does with what he is are two different things."

Good point. I wondered how Sato would react.

He frowned. "I think that the control and discipline and training of a ninja is wasted helping farmers get their crops to market."

"Perhaps," agreed the Master. "But I won't walk away from someone in trouble. I can't seem to break the habit. If that's not exciting enough for you, then it's not the right path for you. What about anti-terrorist activities? Terrorism is growing and it's right up Okasa's alley. If you follow him, you'll have to decide if the taking of innocent lives along with those who are supposed to be guilty is worth the price of being the traditional ninja. You say you don't want to waste your skills on things which are beneath your dignity. Shouldn't it be beneath you to hurt innocent bystanders?"

Sato remained silent a long time. At last he said, "I see what you mean. Perhaps you are right in this."

"Maybe?" I asked. "Why'd you bother looking for him If you weren't sure he was right? Did Okasa send you?"

He looked right at me, his eyes hard to read. "Believing Okasa is wrong does not mean the Master is right. I think he may be closer to the truth than Okasa, but it is hard for me."

Turning back to McAllister he added, "Besides, I'm not sure the old days are gone. Do you think the world is more civilized than it was a hundred years ago? As you said yourself, terrorism is spreading. Times are more complex and It is harder to find shadows to vanish into, but modern civilization doesn't have all the answers. It merely creates more questions."

"If you remain with the old ways, you're also creating questions, Sato. If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem." The Master spoke carefully. It may not be the responsibility of the ninja to make things better--but it's certainly everyone's responsibility not to make things worse."

"Will killing a dangerous leader make things worse? If I accepted such a contract, wouldn't I be a part of the solution?"

"I'm going to let you answer that one for yourself after you've had some time to think about it. By killing that leader you might be setting the stage for war, if various factions chose to blame each other for the death."

"You've killed your enemies in the past."

"Yes, but we can change, Sato, move on to new ways."

"I don't know if I agree or not. Maybe it is a question of..." He searched for the English word to describe his feelings. "A question of degree? You fight oppression the way you did with the farmers while another sight do the same by executing an evil leader."

"Do you believe it is the same?"

"I don't know. It's easy to be idealistic when you have nothing more serious to be concerned about than your simple farmers. I would hate to think you are hiding in America, where it is safe, because it is easier than facing reality."

"Hey," I objected, really pissed. "You've got no right to say that. Calling his a coward-- you've got to be crazy to think something like that."

"He's simply coming from another direction than you are, Max." McAllister remained calm. "There say be many who believe I ran away. Certainly I've considered that possibility."

"It's not true," I insisted.

"No, I don't think it is. I've sometimes wondered what I would have done If I hadn't gotten Teri's letter when I did. And I realized that while I might not have come home, I would still have left the sect once I learned what Okasa and the others were doing. Staying would have been wrong because, even if I stopped them, I would have had to resort to Okasa's tactics to do it. Otherwise I would have been killed, and I would have been of no use to anyone. I'm not afraid of dying, but I didn't want to die before I found Teri. And there's you, Max."

"Me?" I echoed in surprise.

"I've trained you differently than I've trained the others. I think the new methods work. In a way you've been an experiment. Remember how I resisted taking you on as a student?" I nodded. "I didn't want to risk another failure, but you were persistent." He grinned. "You have a knack that way. So I decided I'd see how the training worked without the impetus of the old days. If I could control your passions and teach you the discipline and skill without turning you into a killer, then I would have succeeded. You can kill if you must, but you know enough that I can be sure you'll try something else first."

He looked at Sato. "Does this make Max any less a ninja?"

"He fights well." Sato bowed to so and I bobbed my head back at his. "And he has controlled his suspicion of me and kept it from ruling him. I think he has been well trained."

"What makes you think I'm suspicious of you?" I asked, curious.

"Because in your place I would be very suspicious and I cannot believe any man trained by John Peter McAllister would overlook the possibility that I was here to...to set you up."

"Are you?" I asked daringly.

"Max," said the Master quickly, but Sato laughed.

"No, I am here to learn from him and try to understand."

"That's what you would say anyway."

He nodded. "Yes. If I were here at Okasa's bidding, I would lie and tell you exactly what I have told you. He knows that, don't you, Master?"

"Yes."

"But I am here to learn. I want to understand his view of the ninja in today's world. The night is always with us. I cannot be certain the old days are gone."

"You don't want them gone," I accused his. "You like the glory and the excitement and maybe even the kick of being able to kill without risk. Being a ninja can be a real power trip. I've felt it myself. That's what the discipline is for. Otherwise you're just one more terrorist using your power for the wrong reasons." I frowned and added. "The Master's right. What you are as a ninja has to be different from what you do as a ninja or else you're just a puppet. I like having the choice. I choose, but when I do, I hope I know enough about so and other people to sake the right decisions."

"You've got a good start, Max," said the Master. "I should let you take over. You've certainly got your father's blood in you."

"I'll tell him you said that," I threatened. "He'll get a kick hearing it." He would too. Dad and I were more alike than I'd ever thought--might be why we always had trouble getting along.

"You have learned much," admitted Sato. "The Master was the best teacher I had. I understand what you're saying, Max, but people are different. My choice would be different from your choice and still be right for me."

"That's just an excuse for doing what you want to do without feeling guilty about it."

"Is it, Max Keller?"

I glanced at the Master who didn't seem very worried while he waited for my answer. Sometimes he knows me better than I know myself, which is scary, but okay because I trust him. "Yes, It is. I know I don't have all the answers, but when I start to compromise, I know I'm in trouble."

Sato didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked from me to the Master and back to me again. "Maybe," he confessed, "I do want the glory and the power, and I hadn't thought of it that way before this. I want to be a ninja, but I want all it entails, not a watered-down version."

"So it doesn't matter what you are inside, only how much damage you can do?" The more Sato and I went back and forth, the more I understood the things the Master had been beating into my thick skull for the past year. And he knew I realized it. He didn't say anything, just sat there, smiling to himself, but his eyes were warm when they met mine and that made me feel better than winning any argument with Sato would.

If I was winning. I still didn't trust the dude. He was a little too slick, especially when he'd laid it on us that he'd act just the same if he was working for Okasa. As little as I knew Okasa, I knew he would use any weapon to get at the Master, like the time he'd tried to McAllister's old buddy, Brian Elkwood against him. Using Sato by making him seem like a potential convert would be right up the guy's alley.

"The abilities of the ninja should not be wasted." Sato came back after a long silence. "If I could build a great building, and chose instead to erect a shed, it would be a waste of materials."

"If it was a good shed, and needed, there would be no shame in its building." The Master spoke quickly. "You think highly of yourself, Sato."

"You mean I should not try to judge you? John Peter McAllister can do no wrong?"

"Hardly," replied the Master with a little laugh. "But I hope I'm honest with myself about what I do. Can you say that?"

Sato looked away, making me wish I had had a chance to tell McAllister about the phone call. I made myself relax--there'd be time later. Until then, I'd have to watch Sato like a hawk.

That night the Master and I met my dad at the hospital. He'd just come from visiting with Laura when we joined him in the waiting room. "It's looking good, Max," he said, his eyes shining. "Hello, McAllister. Looks like you've been taking good care of my son."

"Max is pretty good at taking care of himself." He clapped me on the shoulder. "How're you doing, Keller?"

Dad held out a hand to demonstrate how steady it was. "I think I'm winning my own battles these days," he admitted. "I'm glad you came by. Laura mentioned that you were here this afternoon. With any luck she will be seeing you soon."

"I hope so, but if things don't work out, she's strong enough to handle it. Just don't be too disappointed if that does happen."

"That's a lot to ask."

"Do it for her. Regaining her sight means almost more to Laura for your sake, than her own, Keller. When we first met, she told me her mind was full of lights and colors. There's no need to ever feel sorry for her."

"Sorry for Laura? I wouldn't dare, but I want her to have this."

"I think I'll go say hello." I made my excuses, leaving them together. The Master was good for me; he had to be good for Dad.

When I entered the room, Laura looked my way. "Hello. Who is it?" she asked.

"Me." I knew that was dumb the second I said it, but Laura didn't need any more than that to identify her visitor.

"Max. Patrick said you were in town, and your surrogate father came by earlier while you were with your dad. Come over here and say hello."

There was a bandage around her head, holding a pad over her eye, but I came up and kissed her on the cheek

She reached out and caught my arm, sliding her hand down to take mine. "Max, I think it's going to work. Will you stay long enough to be sure?"

"I'll do my best," I promised, knowing I'd hang around unless it meant the Master would be in danger.

"Good. If this doesn't work, I think Patrick will need you. He has such high hopes for me."

"You've got some of your own."

"Yes, but I can live the way I am, if it's necessary. I want to see more than anything, Max, but if I don't, your father will take it much harder than I will. He's so excited, I'm not sure how well he'll cope if I don't get my sight back."

"He'd do it for you."

She smiled. "But he'd still be hurt."

"Laura, you can't believe he cares any less for you because..."

"Because I can't see? Of course not."

"Then what do you mean?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea. Dad's never dealt too well with loss. Well, nobody really does, but it hits Dad harder than most. Look at the way he'd reacted when Mom and Jimmy died--and it still hurts him. It hurt me too. Still does. I mean, I can go a long time and not think about them, but then something will happen and the hurt's still there. Maybe I've got more reserves to draw on than Dad, or I met McAllister at the right time to help me sort things out. Laura's been dad's sorter-outer and If this operation went wrong for her, he might see it as another loss, another failure.

"Okay," I said quickly, before she could say anything. "I understand and I'll do what I can for him."

"But you're not promising?" She was nothing if not sharp, Laura.

So I explained about Sato and the Master, a quick run-by so she'd understand where I was coming from. It's rotten to be torn between responsibilities. Dad had been dry for seven months--I wanted to be there for him if he went for the bottle, even though I knew it had to be his choice. But I couldn't risk the Master's life either. "I'm scared I'll have to let one of them down," I confessed.

"You aren't the type to let anyone down." Laura squeezed my hand. "Tell Patrick what you're up against with this other student. Let him be strong for you. He needs to know he can do as much for you in his way as the Master can."

She was right.

"Will do," I agreed. "As much as is mine to tell, and that's a promise. Now, I'd better get out of here and let you get some rest. Will you be okay?"

She tightened her grip on my hand and covered it with her other one. "I'm just fine," she said with a smile. "I almost feel as though I could fly."

Out in the corridor, I asked Dad, "What did the doctor say?"

"They're pretty sure she'll have some sight, and there's a good chance she'll have enough to get by on, almost normal." He grinned like a kid who'd been promised a treat.

"If spirit has any say in this, she'll see." The Master sounded certain. "How soon will they know?"

"Friday. Can you two stay until then?"

The Master nodded. "I wouldn't dream of missing this."

Not until we were back in the van, heading toward the motel, did I have a chance to tell the Master what I'd seen earlier. "I still don't trust Sato. I saw him making a phone call this afternoon and he looked suspicious."

"When?"

"While you were seeing Laura. I tried to stay out of sight, and I don't think be saw me, but he was acting funny." I related everything I'd seen.

He was silent when I'd finished, then said, "He could have been calling anyone, Max, even a girl friend."

"I know, but it could be trouble, too. He looked like he was up to something."

"Are you certain of that?"

"He had his hand curled around the mouthpiece like he didn't want to be overheard." That sounded kind of lame, so I added, "It's more a feeling than anything solid. I was sure he didn't want anyone to hear him. When I tried to find out more, I got interrupted. Besides, if he thinks Okasa is wrong, why is he trying so hard to convince you that he's right?"

"Is that what he's doing?" The Master shook his head. "I don't know. That may be it, but he could also want me to convince him. Even if he's just begun to doubt Okasa, it won't be hard for him to give up the old ways. I know that from experience."

There was nothing I could say to that. The old fellow had already been that route. "But why come all this way if he wasn't convinced?" I asked. "That's a long trip when you're only thinking about something."

"I know." The Master nodded agreement. "I want him to see things my way, Max. I want to know that all those years in Japan counted for something. That means a lot to me and I've got to give Sato the benefit of the doubt until he's proves unworthy of it. So far, I can't be sure that he doesn't mean what he says."

I hesitated before venturing, "Do you think maybe it's because it's--what you want to believe?"

"You don't think I'm being objective?" He didn't say anything for a minute, then, "You could be right."

"I'm going to watch him no matter what," I promised, then added fiercely, "And those years in Japan counted for a lot. Don't ever doubt it."

"You convince me, Max." He patted my shoulder. "Just stick with me through this. If I ever needed help, it's now."

"Count on it." I couldn't let him down. But, on the other hand, Dad and Laura needed me too. I owed Dad. If only this wouldn't lead to my being needed in two places at the same time. Well, I'd learned enough this past year to be able to be able to balance my way through this. Somehow.

The next day I divided my time between workouts with Sato and visits with Laura at the hospital. I found myself telling Laura as much as I could about the Master and his reasons for leaving Japan. Afterwards she was quiet for awhile, then she said, "You stick with him, Max. If this doesn't work out for me, I'll still be here for Patrick."

"He'd never forgive me if I let him down now."

"I think he would understand."

"I'm not so sure. Do you think he's a little--well--jealous of the Master? He still calls him my surrogate father. Not sarcastic any more...but like he still minds that I've got a--a mentor who's done so much for me."

"This isn't a choice between McAllister and your father, though that's what it seems to you. You've got two responsibilities and you've got to set your priorities."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No, it doesn't mean you love one more than the other. This means you'd be doing what needed most to be done or what needed to be done first. You've got to face the highest risk first."

"How do I know which that is?" I asked. "Sato might be what he says he is."

"And Patrick is probably stronger than we give him credit for. He's strong and getting stronger. Besides, I think I'll see again."

Naturally I kept on worrying. Seems like my favorite place was always right in the middle of trouble. The Master had taught me to walk a tightrope--something I'd never thought I'd need, but I'd done it a couple of times already. I was on another kind of tightrope now. The Master was on one end, and Dad on the other, and someone bad wrapped a silken cord around the rope. The first time the Master did that during practice, I ended up on the ground real quick. This time, if I fell, I might take somebody with me. I hated that. Responsibilities, Max. You can do it.

My little pep talk didn't convince me.

"He is a special man, Max."

"Damn right." I looked over at Sato; we were working out together while the Master visited Laura. Practicing was easier than talking things out, but, suddenly, I thought maybe we ought to talk. He must have thought so too, because he'd started it.

"Okasa is wrong about him," Sato declared.

"How do you mean?" I couldn't fault him for mentioning Okasa because we all knew he'd spent with Okasa after the Master left. But if he was really setting us up, be might give himself away.

"Okasa doesn't understand the Master. Okasa thinks it was wrong, maybe weak to run away, to leave the old ways behind. Okasa believes that we are bound to the traditions of the ninjutsu and that no matter what else changed, that must remain constant. Now I see that change requires courage too."

"He's got enough courage for three men," I insisted. "Don't ever think of doubting it."

"That is another thing that makes me think," Sato mused. "Your devotion." Devotion sounded corny, but I guess he was right. I might have said loyalty instead of devotion, but when I thought about the two words, Sato was right too. "What's that prove to you?"

"Weak men do not inspire devotion, nor do cowards. I would not wish to use my skills quite as be does, but changing with the times is never easy."

"Think you can swing it?" I asked hopefully.

"I don't know."

Well, that was honest anyway. I still wasn't sure of the guy, but he seemed sincere just then. Maybe he wasn't about to come over, but he was thinking about it. Or he might want me to believe he was thinking about it so I'd let my guard down.

"You know I don't trust you, don't you?"

"Yes. How can I convince you?"

I took the bull by the horns. "Who did you call yesterday?"

He grinned. "I saw you behind the truck," he admitted. "I wondered if you would speak of it. I called a friend in San Francisco. I plan to visit him while I'm in this country. Does that satisfy you?"

"I guess so," I said grudgingly.

"Does the Master know you are spying for him? Did he set you that task?"

"No, I took it on myself."

"That's what I thought." He lunged with the staff and, caught off guard, I almost didn't block him, but I got my staff up in time. "Sneaky," I commented.

"Of course. So must we confront our enemies."

"If you were me, what would you do about Okasa?" I asked.

He thought about it a long time. "If I were In your position, I would find him and kill him, we are different. You will not kill him unless he attacks you first. Nobility is not always wise."

"Honor isn't wise?"

"I didn't say you should kill him from ambush. You must battle within the guidelines of ninjutsu, but you have the right to challenge him as he will challenge the Master. Aren't your beliefs worth killing for?"

"That's a trick question," I said sourly. "If I kill for them, then I don't believe them as much as I think I do. I'd kill Okasa if we were fighting, to save myself, or to save the Master's life. I wish he'd disappear and we'd never see him again, but I'm not looking to hunt hit down and kill him." The Master had turned his back on the old ways and I was his student. The choice wasn't easy, but I knew that's what I'd do--unless Okasa killed the Master. Or was that wrong too?

"It's not easy, is it?" asked Sato sympathetically as though he could read my mind like the Master did.

"No," I agreed. "But it's my choice. Who was it who said that we're all killers, but we can stop by deciding not to kill...today? Like my dad with his drinking, we take it one day at a time."

"A wise men, perhaps, but it is a difficult philosophy for a hired killer to practice."

"I can think of lots of ways to use my training, and none of them have anything to do with being a hired killer."

"It's not the same. If one is trained to kill, saving farmers is a waste."

He was repeating himself, so I did too. "Then I still think you're in it for the kick. You get off on it."

Maybe he didn't understand the slang, but he knew what I meant. He balanced his staff carefully in his hands, thinking.

I struck with my staff and sent his flying off across the grass. "Checkmate," I said.

Most of the next two days went on like that. McAllister and Sato would debate philosophy and then Sato and I would argue it. I don't think any of our exchanges were formal enough to be called a debate. I got to play devil's advocate and liked it. I found I enjoyed the arguments as much as I liked fighting with the swords, staffs or kasarifundo. Sometimes McAllister would just sit back and let me defend out position. Once Dad was there while I challenged Sato every, way I could think of. At first I held back because Dad was there--after all, he's the great lawyer, the one who can charm the birds out of the trees with words. Then I got caught up in the argument and when I came up for air a half hour later, my dad and the Master were sitting against the wall watching us, both of them looking smug and contented with themselves. Me, I felt like a student who just took a surprise oral exam and got an A.

I couldn't tell if Sato was coming around or not. By this time, McAllister and I had decided he was sitting on the wall, waiting to fall on one side or the other. Sometimes I thought Okasa had sent him to try his own arguments on the Master. I didn't know what Okasa would do if the Master recanted and tried to return to the sect. Not that it mattered because the Master wasn't going back, but Okasa couldn't be as sure of that as I was.

Anyway, we couldn't tell what Sato was thinking which was frustrating. I wondered if that was how the Master felt when he was trying to teach me discipline when all I'd wanted at the time was to learn how to fight. "I don't know how you can be so patient," I told him once.

He only grinned. "Lots of practice, Max. Lots of practice."

On Thursday night I found myself having dinner alone with Dad. The Master had taken Sato out sightseeing and I wondered where they'd wind up. Anyway, around about dessert I figured out that something was bothering Dad, other than his concern for Laura.

"Okay, out with It," I urged, digging into a Max Keller-sized piece of cherry pie.

"Out with it?" He was stalling for time and he knew I knew it.

"Yeah. Something's up, isn't it? And it's not Laura's eyes?"

"No, things still sound good." He picked up his fork, but instead of eating his pie, he began to trace patterns in the tablecloth. I saw the waiter hovering in the background and made a quick gesture for him to back off. With what Dad was paying here, they'd better jump when we wanted them to.

"Then what's wrong?" I persisted.

"I don't know that anything's wrong, Max. I'm just not sure what you'll think of it."

"You won't know till you ask." All at once I was pretty sure what was coming. But, being a dutiful son--at least a reasonable facsimile of one--I decided to give him his big moment. "So tell."

"It's Laura," he said. "I want to marry her." He shot me a defiant look. "I know I'm too old for her, but the funny thing is she doesn't sees to mind. I hope you don't."

"Would it matter if I did?"

"Not one damned bit," he snapped, then added quickly, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. What you think matters, but it won't stop me."

"I think I approve," I conceded, adding with a grin, "though she's much too good for you."

He took a mock stab at my hand with his fork. "Respect from one's offspring. I love it." He looked less tense, though. "Seriously, this doesn't mean I've forgotten your mother. I don't think I ever will, but it's been three years now and Laura's not taking Kate's place. she has her own place. Can you understand that?"

I nodded. The Master isn't taking your place. Maybe it's like that."

Dad smiled. "You get in the habit and you never stop, do you, Max? It's okay. I'm pretty much reconciled to McAllister being in your life now, though I never dreamed you'd turn out to be a ninja."

"You just got lucky," I retorted with a cocky smile. "But tell me about Laura. Have you set a date?"

"Not yet. I'm worried about tomorrow. If she can see, maybe she'll think I only want her that way. And if she can't, I'm afraid she'll think I'm asking out of pity."

"She's a lot smarter than that," I informed him. "The Master thinks she's great. She'll know it's nothing like that; besides, she's going to be a Keller. Lucky lady."

"You're incorrigible, son."

"I know, it's hereditary."

We both laughed. I hadn't felt that close to him since I was about five years old. It was great.

I hated to mess up the moment with doom and gloom, but I bad to know. "How're you going to hold up if it doesn't work out for her tomorrow?"

"I'll be fine. If I screw up or start to drink again it'll hurt her worse than not being able to see. I want her to see, Max, more than anything. But her eyes aren't what matter most. She does." He looked embarrassed. "Listen to me. I sound like a kid who's fallen in love for the first time, not some middle-aged slob who can't keep his own life straight."

"Who just happens to be a top lawyer and not half bad as a father. Laura's getting a bargain."

"Buttering me up, Max?"

"You bet," I said cheerily. "I take buttering-up lessons from the Master three times a week."

He laughed and finally dug into his pie. Mine, of course, was long gone. Takes a lot to distract me from good food.

Sato looked especially gloomy the next morning and I wondered if it was because he was about to make a final stand before coming over to our side. He only half-listened to my arguments as we worked out in a nearby park, and I caught the Master watching him with a thoughtful look on his face. Actually, Sato looked a little sick, but when I pressed him, he insisted he was okay. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get anything out of him, so I gave it up with a shrug. But I kept an eye on him--when I wasn't looking over my shoulder for Okasa to sneak up on us. Nobody showed up though, except for a couple of high school kids who must have been cutting class and watched us for a while. When we work out in public like that, we don't always wear our ninja getup, but even without it, the kids were impressed. McAllister went over and talked to them for awhile--probably telling them what Sato and I were doing wrong.

When we finally broke for breakfast and nothing earth shattering had happened, I felt relief roll over me. I was always hungry after a workout, and usually Sato was the same, but today he just played with his food. "You sure you're not sick?" I persisted.

"I'm fine, Max."

"Yeah, you look it," I said skeptically. "What's up?"

"Nothing." He sounded pretty lame to me.

"Leave him alone, Max," urged the Master. "I think he may be considering our arguments."

"Yes," agreed Sato promptly. "You have given me much to consider."

"I'd feel better if I bought that."

"You are a true skeptic."

"Wrong. I just don't believe you right now."

"Max," warned the Master and I subsided. McAllister discussed our plans for the day--he and I were going to the hospital to get the results on Laura's eyes, while Sato said he wanted to go to Disneyland. Somehow the idea of a ninja at Disneyland struck me funny, but the Master said he'd never been there either and that it sounded like a good idea to him. This I had to see--Disneyland with a pair of ninjas would be a whole new experience for me.

After lunch we went to the hospital. The doctors had removed the bandages in the morning, with Dad in attendance which was his place. We found him in the waiting room and knew right away that the news was good. He gave me a bear hug, beaming all the while. "Max, it's okay. She can see!"

"That's great! How's she doing?"

"She said she hadn't realized how ugly I am and the wedding is off." He laughed. "No, she's fine, really. She'll have to wear glasses, but hey, she looks great in glasses." He was as excited as a kid.

"Can we see her?"

"She's waiting for you."

I went in first, hesitating in the doorway. Laura turned at once and saw me. It was weird knowing that she really could see me, and I hoped my hair was combed. "Hi, Laura."

"Max?" She peered at me through the dimness of the room. The doctors had kept the lights low to prevent any strain. "You look a little like Patrick. Come here."

I went over and took her hands. "This is great," I enthused. "You should see how happy Dad is."

"I know. He's been in here. I think he wanted this for me more than I did, if that's possible." She freed her hands and raised them to my face, tracing my features the way she had done when we first met. "I'm comparing," she explained. "I've gotten accustomed to seeing people with my fingertips. Seeing with my eyes again will take some time." She added abruptly, "Patrick says he's told you about us?"

I think that was one of the few times I ever saw Laura less than confident. Guess she wasn't sure how I'd react, even if dad had told everything was okay. So I put her mind to rest by hugging her. "Don't worry, lady. If you can put up with me, I can put up with you."

"I think I can manage."

"Great."

The Master came in then and Laura knew him right away. Maybe she recognized his aura. "Master," she said. She'd taken to calling him that, and I never minded--Laura would have made a great ninja. "I have a favor to ask you. I don't have any family. At least no close relatives. Max must have told you that Patrick and I are going to be married. If it isn't presumptuous of me, I'd like you to give me away."

A glance a McAllister showed the old fellow actually at a loss for words. Then he smiled, and reached for her hand. "I'd be honored."

She squeezed his hand. "So would I."

It was dark when I drove the Master back to the motel. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw that the light in their room was out and figured Sato must be at dinner. It was too early for bed. I pulled up in front of the room. "Well, take it easy, old fellow," I started to say when the Master shot out a hand and gripped my wrist so hard I knew I'd have a bruise in the morning.

"Quiet, Max," he hissed.

I whispered, "What is it?"

"I sense something."

"Trouble?" I asked, but I knew it had to be. He wouldn't react like this if it was unimportant.

"Okasa."

"Where?" How do you know?"

"I can sense his presence."

"You're getting scary," I said. He pulls stuff like this as if it was nothing and I still haven't learned to take it for granted.

He gave that comment all the attention it deserved--none, and said, "Stay in the van, Max."

"No deal," I shot back at him. "We're supposed to be a team. Besides, If Okasa's here, Sato told him where to find us. If you have to take on two of them, you'll need help."

"You think so?" His teeth flashed white in the dim light, then he relented, reaching into an inner pocket to pull out a shuriken. I keep some of my stuff in the van, so I climbed over the seat into the back and armed myself with a staff and a weighted chain and let myself out the back so the dome light wouldn't come on. McAllister armed himself and went out the side door.

If I were Okasa, I wouldn't have chosen a motel parking lot for a confrontation, but I'm not, and he had to go with what was available. Sato had tried several times to get us out to a remote spot for our practice, but, with Laura in the hospital, we hadn't gone very far. Maybe he'd been trying to lure us to a prearranged ambush. When it hadn't worked, Okasa had come to us.

I stood with my back against the van, my feet braced a little apart, the staff balanced lightly in my hands, and I listened. There was no sound except the raucous chatter of TV sets in various rooms, and the hum of traffic on the street. Further down the parking lot, there was an overhead streetlight, but where the van was parked, we were in shadows and I was well hidden--unless Okasa had seen me get out of the van.

Total ambush wasn't his style, though. Usually he would spring out at the Master, announce his presence and then begin the fight. Most of the time he let McAllister arm himself, and he'd been known to bring him a spare weapon. I could never trust the guy, but the Master did--up to a point.

"Okasa?" he called softly. I wouldn't have done that, but Okasa had to know we were here. I half-hoped he was positioned so he couldn't see me, and I could get the jump on him.

"I am here, Master." Okasa stepped from the shadows. I could see him by leaning around the corner of the van.

"I like the way you use other people to fight your battles, Okasa."

"You mean Sato," Okasa replied. "I am not using him, Master. He has chosen his path. We are in agreement."

To prove that, Sato stepped out of the darkened room, aligning himself with Okasa. He wore his ninja robes. "I regret, Master, I must stand with tradition. You betrayed us."

"Can you really believe that after spending time with us?" asked McAllister, his voice level, giving nothing away, although I knew that Sato's game had hurt him.

"You cannot justify deserting the ninja, Master," Sato insisted. Somehow he didn't sound very convincing. I frowned--maybe he wasn't as sure of himself as he wanted to be.

So I came around the edge of the van. "You're a fine one to talk about betrayal, Sato," I accused him. "At least Okasa's up front about what he's doing. But you--you sneak around and pretend to be one thing when you're really something else."

"I did not pretend, Max," Sato said. Beside him, I could see Okasa looking at me in surprise--well he had every right. I don't think I ever said anything positive about him before. "I did not lie," Sato insisted. "We have talked often. You know my feelings are mixed."

"Mixed, hell. You're on his side. You set the Master up. There's nothing mixed about that--pretty one-sided as far as I can see. If you're a sample of the old ways, I'm glad I'll never be a part of it."

"You do not understand." He almost sounded like he was pleading with me.

"I understand." McAllister's voice was cold. "I understand that you came to me, pretending to want to learn, but all you wanted was to see where I stood and judge my strength before you told Okasa where I was. If Max hadn't been here, would the two of you have jumped me together?"

"No," denied Sato quickly.

"Not much," I scoffed. "You don't have any honor, Sato. It's beneath my dignity to fight you, but I will for the Master's sake. Or didn't you learn any loyalty in Japan?"

"I will not debate you, Max," said Sato, standing impassively beside Okasa.

"Will you fight me?" asked the Master.

"That is my fight." Okasa stepped forward. "Master? I am at your disposal."

"Yeah," I snorted. "And you're about to be disposed of."

Even with the sting of Sato's betrayal prodding at him, the Master took a moment to grin at my comment. Then he turned back to Okasa. "I've beaten you before, Okasa."

"And you have run away, which you will not do this time. Sato will prevent your new student from assisting you."

I grinned. I'd always come out on top when I fought Sato. Then I frowned. If he'd lied about one thing, he might have lied about others. Could be he'd been holding back all along?

Okasa lunged at the Master, and McAllister whipped out a sword that he'd grabbed from the van and parried the blow. I edged closer, watching Sato, and when he came at me, I was ready for him. He didn't start out any better than he had in practice, but the one thing I'd learned in the last few days was that he'd stick to it even when be was tired and in pain. He wasn't a quitter and, for the first time, I found myself in the position of a fight, maybe to the death, with another ninja. I hated the thought of it. The Master's right when he says I'm not a killer, but if it became necessary, I'd kill Sato. Not for the glory of the old days, but because I had not choice.

Okasa moved in close and for a second seemed to have gotten through the Master's guard. A part of me wondered how long it would take before the noise of the battle would fetch people out of their rooms to watch--or to call the cops. Or sit in their rooms and pretend they didn't hear a thing.

The Master danced back out of Okasa's range, but he seemed to be favoring his side. I couldn't tell if he was bleeding or only bruised because of the darkness, but I renewed my attack on Sato and we got into a hot and heavy match, swinging and ducking and weaving in and out of the spaces between the parked cars. I got through a good crack on his left arm, and he let go of his staff with that hand for a moment, but before I could press my advantage, Okasa gave a triumphant cry.

I almost dropped my own staff as I whirled around to see the Master go down, choking back a cry of pain.

"No!" I swung a wild, unconnected blow at Sato to clear him out of the way, then I went for Okasa at a run. He would have had to be deaf not to hear me coming, and I wasn't even thinking. Faster than I can tell about it, he threw something and I was jerked backwards as it hit my shoulder a heavy blow. I kept going and didn't even notice the pain for another two steps, then it caught me up short and I looked down in surprise to see a shuriken imbedded in my shoulder, just below the collarbone. All at once, my arm was too heavy to lift and the staff sagged down, taking out a car headlight on the way. I didn't really notice. Ignoring the pain and the wet warmth of blood running down my chest inside my shirt, I advanced on Okasa, who had dismissed me without a second glance. He approached the Master, who had fallen to the ground beside the van and raised his sword.

I couldn't move fast enough. There was no way I could get there in time. "Stop!" I screamed, knowing it was futile. I think I was crying as I stumbled forward.

A blurred shadow went past me, diving between the Master and the blade, and Okasa couldn't check the downward swing in time to stop it. Sato screamed as the blade took him and Okasa released the weapon, for once startled into dropping his guard.

I didn't understand what Sato had done, but there was no time for wondering. I reached up and freed the shuriken from my shoulder. It didn't even hurt. Guess I was too high on adrenalin to notice. I took careful aim and time very thoughtfully slowed itself down so I could be sure of my shot. Okasa turned, shouting as I flung the wheel, but he was too late. The shuriken hit him in the side, between a couple of ribs. He jerked back, movement arrested and looked at me across the distance that separated us. If he felt pain, it didn't show in his eyes. The silver chain mail around his face glistened in the light from the streetlamp and his eyes were steady as he bowed his head to me. Then his arm moved fast and a smoke bomb landed at my feet. I waved my arms to clear away the smoke, then sucked in my breath at the overwhelming pain In my shoulder at the stupid movement.

When the smoke cleared, Okasa was gone.

Sato lay sprawled across the Master's body, and I moved him carefully, not daring to free the sword from his side for fear the wound would bleed harder. The exertion made my shoulder bleed more, but I knew it wasn't really serious and could wait. "Hey, old fella?" I ventured nervously. "Damn it, answer me."

"Easy, Max." I could tell he was making a real effort to keep his voice steady.

Stupidly, I asked, "Are you hurt?"

"Yes, but not badly. I slipped on a beer bottle and twisted my ankle."

I studied him skeptically, shaking a little with relief, and he said, "Leave it, Max." He hitched himself upon one knee and bent over Sato's body.

"Is he dead?" I asked. Another stupid question. Must have been my night for them. He had to be dead. That sword had taken a big chunk out of his side. If he wasn't already dead, he soon would be. There was a hell of a lot of blood everywhere.

"Sato?" asked the Master softly.

And damned if he didn't open his eyes and look up at the Master. He had a kind of dull stare like a blind man--or a corpse--and I shivered in spite of myself. It was awfully cold in that parking lot.

"You stopped Okasa. You saved my life. Why?"

"Because I believed--" His voice had as much strength as a piece of string. "I came here to do his bidding. He had become my Master after you went away. I came--because he wanted to learn if--if you could be turned back. And, if you could not, then he wanted me to tell him--where you were, and if necessary to--help him kill you." He coughed and I saw he was bleeding from the mouth.

"But you stopped him." The Master's voice hurt me as much as the shuriken wound in my shoulder. No matter what Sato had said and done, no matter how much he had lied, he had redeemed himself at the end, and was going to die for it. The Master was hurting for him.

"You were right," Sato mumbled. "I listened to you, and I denied what you said, but you--told the truth. I didn't want to hear you. I wanted things to go on as they had always done. I wanted--" He broke off with another coughing fit and the Master steadied him against his chest.

"Easy," he murmured.

"I wanted the old ways," Sato whispered. "I--wanted them so much I would not admit that times had changed. I did not want them to change. Or to waste my gifts on farmers, on the poor and the helpless. I wanted--wanted--"

"The glory," the Master suggested softly. "I understand. It's a seductive lure."

"But it is wrong." Sato tried to push himself up a little, then he sagged. "The old days are gone. I did not betray you, and I will not see the new age begin. I think I am glad--of both."

His voice had gotten more and more faint until it was hard to understand him. His breath rasped in his chest and he coughed again. Then he sagged over sideways and there wasn't anyone looking out of his eyes any more.

The Master had to know he was dead. He sat there a moment longer, supporting Sato against him, then, very carefully, he laid him on the pavement and closed his eyes.

McAllister shivered and closed his own eyes for a minute. I sat down beside him and touched his arm. "I'm sorry."

"So am I, Max." He got a good look at me then, and started fussing over my injury.

I batted his hand away. "It's nothing," I lied. "Let it go for now. What about you? It's more than your ankle, isn't it?"

"Only a little. I think I've got a couple of broken ribs. I've had worse." He shifted sideways, favoring his side and pinned my hands effortlessly with one hand. "Let me see your shoulder. I don't want you losing any more blood."

I looked past him, distracted by movement and saw people from the motel hovering around us. One guy stared at his smashed headlight and muttered, but when he approached us and saw Sato's body, he froze.

"Somebody call the police," ordered McAllister.

"Already did," said a voice from the darkness. "You just stay put and don't try to go anywhere." Whoever it was stayed anonymously in the shadows among the others. He must have seen the fight and didn't want any part of that for himself.

I wasn't about to take off anyway. My shoulder throbbed and I was too tired to think about getting up. I sat there wearily, listening to the distant wail of police sirens. "I let Okasa get away," I confessed in a little voice. "I'm sorry."

"You were hurt, Max. You couldn't have stopped him." He reached out suddenly as I swayed dizzily and steadied me. "He's hurt too. He won't be back in a hurry."

"I hope not," I muttered. "I want to sleep for about a hundred years."

I woke up In the hospital. That was weird because I had no memory of going there or even of the arrival of the police at the parking lot. I lay there, puzzling that out and discovered that my shoulder was efficiently bandaged. I was kind of doped up though, and couldn't think clearly. One good thing, though--when I touched my shoulder, exploring the bandages, it only hurt a little.

A hand caught mine and lifted it away from the injury. "Easy, Max."

I opened my eyes a little wider and caught a glimpse of my dad, looking like he hadn't slept all night. "You look terrible," I told him.

He gave a kind of choking laugh. "I look terrible? You scared the hell out of me, Max. They brought you in all covered with blood and McAllister looked almost as bad as you did."

That got to me. I sat up, then said, "Whoa," and lay back again quickly--I was pretty lightheaded. "What's wrong with him?" I asked anxiously. "He said it wasn't serious."

"It isn't," said Dad hurriedly. "He hurt his ankle and cracked a rib or two, but he had Sato's blood all over him. When I saw the two of you, I almost had heart failure. I'm too old for shocks like this."

"I'm sorry." He'd taken it badly when Mom and Jimmy died, and he must have thought history was going to repeat itself with me. "You know me," I said in a reassuring tone. "I'm tough. It's not too bad, is it?"

"No, you were lucky. Those shuriken can be nasty, the doctor says, but you were moving when it hit, and it was dark. His aim was off."

"Okasa? His aim's never off." But it must have been a little. He couldn't have fought the Master and remained unscathed.

"Thank god it was off enough to save you."

"Where's the Master?" I asked.

"Asleep. He and I sat up most of the night with you, but he finally caved in around dawn. It's nearly noon now. You've been getting enough beauty sleep to last you ten years."

"And I don't even need it." I grinned despite my stiffness. "Can you get him? He lost one student last night. I don't want him to have to worry about another one."

"Sato? I thought he was on Okasa's side?"

"He thought so too--until the chips were down." I remembered the police sirens. "What happened with the cops? Am I in trouble?"

"There were enough witnesses who heard Okasa to know you were ambushed. Besides, Lt. Ryan took over. Remember him?"

He'd been around the time I'd finally gotten back on good terms with Dad--a pretty decent type for a cop. "Yeah, I do."

Dad patted my good shoulder. "I'll go find McAllister."

We made quite a pair, McAllister and I, me with my arm in a sling, him on his crutches. When we went to see Laura, she stated. "I can see what kind of a wedding I'm going to have," she said. "Maybe I should get a cast to match."

"You could delay the wedding," I teased her. She was getting out of the hospital in another day or so and the wedding would be as soon after that as it could be arranged.

"Any more cracks like that, son, and you're out of my will," Dad informed me.

"Oh thanks a lot. Disinherited too. And I thought the wounded heroes always had things turn out right."

"You're pushing it, Max," McAllister said with a stile.

But he still looked pretty solemn, and that afternoon we finally talked about it. He'd moved into Dad's place with me and, since Dad had to be in court, we had the house to ourselves. I was idly tossing shuriken at a dartboard that had been around since I was a kid. I think the Master wanted me to work with them so I wouldn't develop a hang-up about them, and I guess he was right, because it kind of bothered me at first--I'm not sure it was because I'd been hurt by one or because I'd hit Okasa. Probably it was tied in with the other bad memories--it's easy to get emotions mixed up with things like that. But the Master was right--with practice I found it easier to use the wheels.

I wished I could think of a way to help him. He sat in the corner of the rec room with his foot propped up on the edge of the sofa, barely aware of my practice session. He looked awful, and not just because of the bruises left from the fight with Okasa. He had a kind of hollow, empty look to his eyes that scared me.

I deliberately threw a shuriken that missed the board entirely--Dad would forgive me; Jimmy and I used to hit darts all over the wall around the board and the holes were still there. The Master looked, startled from his preoccupied funk. "You can do better than that, Max."

"Good, you're still here. I thought maybe you were on another planet or something."

He looked surprised. "I'm sorry, Max. I've been distracted."

"Want to talk about it?" This was a new experience for me, a kind of role reversal. Usually he's the one who helps me work my way through some problem. I hoped I knew enough to handle this, at least get him to the point where he could work things through for himself.

"Talking won't change anything, Max. I simply have to come to terms with what happened. I misjudged Sato. Twice."

"Really?" I asked skeptically. "I doubt it."

"I was so happy when he show up claiming to have seen things my way that I wasn't as suspicious as I should have been. I wanted to believe that I had gotten through to someone, just one man. I couldn't trust my judgment."

"If that's true, why weren't you surprised when Okasa showed up?"

He started to answer, paused, then said, "I think that was your influence, bugging me about it."

"Oh, come on. Give yourself a little credit. How could you guess what Sato really felt? He didn't know himself what he was going to do until he did it. You weren't surprised when he saved your life, were you?"

"No," he replied thoughtfully. "But I should have been. He'd been fighting with you. I shouldn't have expected anything from him except trouble."

"I didn't expect anything from him," I retorted. "But then, I'm you. You always know things."

"Not always, Max. Not always."

"Okay, fine, then that makes you human after all. Not such a bad way to be, is it?" I asked hopefully.

He stared at me for a long time, then, unexpectedly, he smiled. "Sounds like you've been learning more than your lessons, Max."

A lot of times I get kind of uncomfortable around praise. Not knowing how to answer that, I changed the subject. "Anyway, he had the right to choose for himself. He had to choose his own path. No one could choose It for him." That sounded like a quote, but I couldn't remember where I'd heard it. Oh well--it was true. "Besides," I reminded him. "When it comes right down to it, he chose your way. He didn't like it, but he chose it, knowing that you were right. So quit sitting there like the earth just blew up. You've still got me, remember?" That's great, Max, I told myself. Just what he needs to hear. Dumb.

But all at once the old fellow smiled. "For my sins," he chuckled.

That was more like the John Peter McAllister I knew. Maybe he'd be able to work it out in his head about Sato without having to feel guilty about things. I suspected he'd blamed himself all along for Okasa and the others, but I didn't think it was his fault. They'd learned from the Master what he could teach them, but their beliefs had come pre-set. That made me wonder how many preconceived notions I'd carried with me into training. I'd have to watch myself.

"Thanks," I complained. "Nice to know I'm appreciated."

"You're appreciated." His smile faded briefly, before returning full glow as he grinned. "And now we've got the wedding to think about. I remember the last time I saw you in a tux."

"Low blow," I complained. I'd rented the stupid thing to wear to a garden party--wound up wearing it to jail; then to fight terrorists. When I'd tried to return it to the rental shop, only a day late, but in lousy shape, I'd had to buy it, and it wasn't worth keeping after that. "Oh well," I concluded, smothering a laugh. "You've got to admit that I looked great in it."

"Do I?" asked McAllister. "And give you delusions of grandeur?"

"Delusions? The truth isn't a delusion."

He reached out unexpectedly and upended me on the floor. "A ninja must always be prepared for attack," he intoned, back in his teacher mode.

"Oh yeah?" Careful of his broken ribs, I grabbed his good leg and tipped him aver backwards onto the couch. "Like that, Master?" I asked in a courteously respectful tone,

When my Dad got back a few minutes later, he found us still laughing away like a pair of crazy men.

"We search our hearts

To justify the reason

And draw the line

To meet somewhere halfway.

If faith is blind

Through darkness it will guide us,

Cause the spirit still remains

With the keepers of the flame."

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