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Authors: Eric Van Lustbader

BOOK: Floating City
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“He also never told anyone what had really happened.”

Chosa was silent for some time, working on the riddle. He knew he dismissed these childhood reminiscences at his peril. Kisoko was famous for speaking in epigrams and oblique lessons that pertained to the subject of the moment. What was she telling him here?

At length, he said, “I suppose you know that Tomoo Kozo tried to murder Nicholas Linnear.”

“Yes. The news media had nothing on it, of course. The police saw to that.”

“Kozo believed that the Colonel and your brother were responsible for his father’s death in 1947.”

“Yes. I recall the day he was discovered floating in the Sumida.”

“Was Tomoo correct? Were they responsible for the elder Kozo’s death?”

“Of course not,” she said without hesitation. “Tomoo was mad, everyone knew that. How you tolerated him at council is anyone’s guess.”

“But they were good friends, Colonel Linnear and your brother.”

“Friends?” She cocked her head. “That’s a rather odd way to put it. The Colonel was a Westerner, how
could
they have been friends?”

“Inside he was Japanese.”

“Was he? What an extraordinary notion.”

Chosa put down his glass. “Are you refuting the evidence?”

“What evidence? You’re mistaking popular myth for fact.”

“But surely it’s a documented fact that Colonel Linnear actively worked within the Occupation machine to restore an equilibrium to the Japanese economic and political landscape.”

“That is without question.” Kisoko downed her brandy in one shot. “But he also strove diligently to ensure that any trace of the prewar industrial-military complex was eradicated.”

Chosa stood stock-still, fascinated and appalled. “I don’t think I understand you.”

“It’s simple once you understand that there were certain elements within the Occupation machine who felt strongly that keeping a core of the best Japanese military minds would provide the kind of bulwark America required in those days against Communist aggression in the Pacific. Because this was our role in the postwar world: to be America’s fortress in the Far East against the Soviet Union and mainland China. It was odd, don’t you think? The Americans disarmed us and then told us to patrol their perimeter.”

“We’re speaking now of war criminals.” Chosa wanted to make certain he got this right. “Some Americans at SCAP headquarters wanted to keep Japanese war criminals out of the trials and use them for their own purpose.”

“They
did
keep a group out of the war trials. History tells us these generals were never found, but I know where they went. Underground. They became spies for the Americans.”

“And your brother and Colonel Linnear were involved in this scheme.”

Kisoko pursed her lips. “In a way you could never understand.”

“But I need to know this!” He was startled by the vehemence of his voice.

“Need?
But why do you need?” Her kimono made a sound like angels whispering as her arms moved. “The
oyabun
commands and it is done.”

He closed his eyes for a moment; he needed a rest from her intensity. “I cannot command you, Kisoko, you know that.”

“No. The Okamis are beyond even your powers. My brother saw to that.”

“But Nicholas Linnear is no friend of yours. Just answer this one question: Are you telling me that your brother and Colonel Linnear did not have a close friendship?”

She offered him more brandy, but he declined. “All marriages go through their bad patches. It’s just that, in the end, some break up and others don’t.”

“What happened to theirs?”

“One question, you said.” She put down the decanter, stood in front of him so close that he could hear her breathing. “If Mikio were here, you could ask him yourself.”

Too late, Chosa understood the riddle she had presented him with. Her hand came up, her strong fingers curling around the side of his neck so tightly he could feel the pulsing of his blood through his carotid artery.

“But he isn’t here. He’s in hiding. Some place far away from me... and from you.” Her eyes were fever bright, and Chosa had the curious and unpleasant sensation that at any moment she would turn into some great serpent that would unhinge its jaws and devour him whole. This was what she had meant: that no matter what Mikio had done or would do, he was still her brother, and there were some virtues—such as the loyalty Chosa’s brother had shown him, such as the loyalty she was now showing toward her brother—that overrode any other moral consideration.

“Did you try to kill him, dear?”

Chosa was so startled by the question that he could not make his mouth work.

“Do you covet his power? Do you wish to sit in the Kaisho’s chair? Do you want his influence diminished?” Her grip on him was inexorable. “You were such a sweet child, so much like your playmates. You fit in. I used to sing you lullabies at night. Now look at you, part of the underworld. Well, dear, I must say the darkness fits you like a cloak. You grew into it, or it grew into you.”

Chosa knew that he had gambled and lost. He had used up the coin of the past with Kisoko, but recklessly he asked her one more question. “If you won’t talk to me about your brother and the Colonel, would you at least confirm something about Koei.”

“Koei?” He could see that he had startled her, and her grip loosened. “Why would you think I would know about her?”

Typically, they used only her first name. With Koei, one always did.

“It is unthinkable that you wouldn’t.”

Then he felt true pain as she dug her long nails into his Adam’s apple. “Despicable creature! It disgusts me to hear her name coming from your mouth! We don’t speak of Koei here.”

“Why not?”

“You disgust me. That’s your real reason for coming here.” Her eyes were eating him alive. “It wasn’t about Colonel Linnear and my brother. You thought you could get me to speak about her.”

“The secret—I must know—”

“I’d sooner see you dead—”

“Mother.”

In truth, Chosa did not know what the outcome would have been had Ken not rolled into the library in his wheelchair. He was a handsome man, with a long, brooding face and soft brown eyes that were ultimately deceiving. This man was powerful in body: wide shouldered, deep chested. He worked out every day in the specially made gym upstairs where he and his prize collection of ancient weapons coexisted.

“Yes, Ken.” Her hand slipped from Chosa’s neck, leaving a white imprint that quickly turned red. But her eyes did not leave Chosa’s for a long, disquieting moment. Then she turned around, that benevolent smile on her face.

“You’re needed upstairs, Mother.”

“I see. All right then.” She took a step toward her son but paused, as if remembering that Chosa was still in the room. She said to him, “I trust I’ve been of some help.”

Chosa, the blood pulsing heavily in his neck and the pit of his stomach, could not think of a thing to say.

“The dead and dying are all around us, but I have saved a life.”

Seiko stood very close to Nicholas, the peaks of her breasts warm against his tattered clothes. She had taken him to a modern-looking apartment. Its windows overlooked a street crowded with shops selling cheap electronics, secondhand cameras (most of them probably stolen), and custom-made
ao dais.
The scents of manioc powder and
nuoc mam,
the fermented fish sauce ubiquitous in Vietnamese cuisine, wafted up from a restaurant on the ground floor.

The place was decorated in a jumble of wooden furniture and handicrafts made locally, as well as those imported from Burma, Thailand, and India. A riot of colorful silk fabrics from northern Thailand covered the walls, except one spot beyond a beaded curtain to the kitchen where a poster of Jimi Hendrix from the 1960s held sway.

“He wanted to kill you. Van Kiet was trembling when you went past him; the passion was in his belly.” As she breathed, her nostrils flared and her bowlike lips quivered. “You haven’t bathed in a couple of days. You smell good.”

They had an odd history, incomplete and inchoate, full of misplaced trust and repressed emotion. Justine had been wildly jealous of Seiko, had in fact accused Nicholas of having an affair with her. He had dismissed such paranoid speculation until, on the eve of his employment by Mikio Okami, Seiko had confessed her love for him. But was it love or simple desire? He suspected that even she did not know.

Her fingers pushed aside what was left of his shirt. “There’s blood all over your skin.” Her nails scored parallel tracks down his chest. “I’d kill to get a chance to do this.” She leaned against him, her cheek like a silk pillow. Then she turned her head and her teeth closed over a wedge of skin, drawing it tight.

“What is it you want, Seiko?”

Her teeth opened and she pressed her lips to his chest. “Use your
tanjian
eye. You tell me.”

But he suspected intuition would prove just as useful. “Did you apply for the job as my assistant because of me?”

“Yes.”

“You’d seen me before.”

“Yes. At Nangi’s club in Shinjuku where he takes you all the time. I was at the bar one night with my boyfriend. He wanted to get me drunk because I was angry at him and he wanted to take me to bed. I was halfway to being drunk when you walked in. I thought I was having a heart attack. There was a pain in my chest that made me dizzy. I excused myself. My boyfriend thought I was going to the toilet, but I was just trying to get nearer to you.” She was moving against him slowly, sinuously. “I got lost in the crush of people. I knew you’d never see me, but I could stare at you for as long as I wanted. I was ecstatic. I couldn’t keep the muscles in my thighs quiet and my breathing was ragged, I fantasized. In the end, I had an orgasm. I simply couldn’t help myself.”

He could feel her heated body beneath the tank dress as completely as if she were already naked.

“I think I was there for hours. Maybe my boyfriend came after me to see where I’d gone, I don’t know. He finally left, horny and out of money. But I no longer cared; I had you. Almost. Not until I applied for the job. Not quite. When you told me I had it. Then.”

“But by that time you knew I was married.”

“I knew all about you.”

“So you knew you could never have me.”

“On the contrary, it never occurred to me that I’d never have you. My fantasies were too real. I knew they were visions of the future.”

Perhaps she was mad, Nicholas thought. Perhaps it was as simple as that, but he doubted it. Real life was rarely neat and simple. “Why is Van Kiet so hot to kill me?”

“He holds you responsible for killing the two soldiers in Cu Chi.”

“He executed Bay for those murders.”

“No. He killed her because it pleased him to do so. He’d still skin you alive if given half a chance.”

Nicholas looked down at her. “But you won’t give him that chance, will you?”

“That’s right,” she said with a thorny smile. “You’re safe with me.”

He put his arms around her. “And why is that? Who do you work for here?”

She squirmed in his tight embrace, reacting to the beginning of his interrogation. “Why should I be working for anyone except you?”

“Because influence is everything here, and you’re a female. Worse, a Japanese, a foreigner.”

“Not quite. My father is Vietnamese.” Her lips flowered as her head swung back. He felt the trembling in her as he extended his psyche, a kind of spasmodic quivering that reverberated through her. What was happening? She was flushed, and perspiration broke out on her skin. “Ohhh!” It was a long, stomach-deep groan, and she collapsed in his arms.

My God,
he thought, stunned,
she’s had an orgasm.

She pulled herself against him, whispering, “Again, again!” in a deep, guttural voice.

“Seiko—”

Her mouth closed over his, her pink tongue twining with his. At the same time her hand gently squeezed the bulge between his legs.

“I knew it,” she said breathlessly. A satisfied smile spread across her face. “You can’t hide how you feel about me. I felt it so strongly that night at the airport when you left for Venice it was almost a physical pain.” Her fingertips, the palm of her hand, were working on him, drawing him out to full length. “Were you really so surprised when I told you how I felt about you?’’

“Yes, I—”

“No, don’t lie to me. I
know
what you felt, because your aura quivered. I felt its echo like a ripple in a pond that tells of something moving beneath the still surface. I could sense this unfurling even then.”

“Seiko, you’re deluding yourself if you—”

“This is no delusion,” she whispered, sliding to her knees. She had unfastened his trousers, had him out, hot in her hands. What was happening? He could not control himself. The orgasm she had experienced without his physically touching her had inflamed him, and now her strange fire had infected him, and it was too late to stop.

She bent her head, her long hair sliding sensuously across her shoulders as she took him between her lips. He was engulfed in an exquisite wet heat. She moved slowly down him, and inside, her tongue was busy rolling and flicking at all the most sensitive parts of him.

Without conscious volition his hands stroked her shoulders, pushed down the straps of her dress. She dropped her arms long enough to bare her breasts, and when his hands moved down to cup them, he felt the deep vibration in her throat as she groaned.

He did not want it to end this way, but he could not bear to make her stop. He rolled her nipples between his fingers as she took him all the way inside. He felt sensations down his shaft, then at the tip. They built to the point where he could no longer control his body or his thoughts. His
tanjian
eye opened as if of its own will, projecting itself outward in a rush as he exploded, bent over her, feeling the rhythmic sensations as she continued her ministrations.

To his surprise he did not lose his hardness, and now he pushed her roughly down, shoving her dress up her thighs. She wore no underwear, and she was very wet. He entered her to the hilt, and he knew that she was feeling him not just physically but psychically as well. One stroke caused her to cry out as she spasmed, her heart thundering, her tender flesh contracting wildly around him. There were tears in her eyes and her cries of excitement were so passionate that he knew instinctively that she was not mad, rather that she possessed a rare ability, a sensitivity to his psychic energy. This was what had attracted her so strongly at Nangi’s club on the night she had first seen him, what had drawn her to him, what had caused her orgasm amid all those people.

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