From: neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Neale Davidson)
Subject: Worthiness (roughly a CPunk story)
Organization: Purdue University Computing Center
Date: Mon, 24 Aug 1992 02:13:35 GMT

Worthiness
(c)1991 Neale Davidson
 
 
 
 
        My gun unleashed a blast of hot red plasma toward the target. 
Another hit and it would be destroyed for sure. I hit the trigger 
several more times, emptying every last shot I had into the belly of the 
beast in front of me. The beast screamed in pain, the cries echoing in 
my ears.
        I pressed the trigger again, praying for another shot. But there 
was none, I had expended my ammunition on battles before. It was then 
that the beast breathed.
        "Damn!" I grunted as my pixeline self was vaporized on the 
brightly lit phosphorous screen in front of me. The box played a 
doom-laden tune to signify my defeat at the  hands of yet another 
massive animated super-powered menace.  I impatiently waited for the 
sadistic tune to play itself out and tried to ignore the gratuitous 
snickers from behind me.  When the tune finally was over it was replaced 
by the  main title soundtrack of the video game. "I didn't  even get my
inits up," I  muttered angrily while using my palm to slam the joystick 
to one side.
        "So," a quasi-comforting voice began from behind me, "you play 
these to relieve stress, right?" Minx smiled at me as if her teeth were 
going straight for the jugular. I grimaced at her for my reply. "Anyway, 
that's the sixth game you've  played and you're still not past level 
eight, why bother?" She was right, I had already spent about three creds
on the thing and I wasn't getting any closer to solving it.
        "I don't like to lose," I replied curtly. "I'm out of quarters
anyway. 'Gonna have to call it quits for now."  Minx had another stupid
grin on her face as I said that, as if she had been anxious to pull me
away from the machine for some time. "I take it that you would like to
do something?"
        "Well," she replied sheepishly, "we could take a job for
tonight." She looked up at me with her puppy-dog blue eyes in a bit of
mock begging. She had been bored for some time, a week of watching me
play video games must do that to her.  I was also edging for some
activity plus a little bit of street running would do some good for both 
me and my wallet.
        I grabbed my warm Coke from the top of the machine and tried to 
finish it. Apparently I was playing for longer than I had thought, the 
ice had melted, watering down the Coke. After painfully forcing a 
swallow, I again turned to Minx, "You want the group together or is it
just going to be you and me?"
        She brushed her lace-clad fingers along my arm a bit 
flirtatiously, "I thought we could be alone on this one, We haven't been 
able to for such a long time." I found myself wondering exactly what 
sort of adventure she  had in  mind, but I quickly buried the thought so 
I wouldn't get any sick hopes up.
        "Well, this old sensei wanted to hire you," she began with a
promising tone in her voice, "I said that I would talk to you about it." 
At least she was noncommittal about talking about it. But her excitement 
about getting another job must have been evident to the sensei. She 
probably didn't even haggle over my fee.
        I motioned to a nearby  table, carefully putting my arm around 
her and began to walk across the room. "I told you not to include me 
in deals without having the client meet me first." Admittedly, I 
wasn't particularly angry, but we could have gotten more money if I had 
been the one dealing.
        She gave a small pouting face to me.  "It was a sweet deal from 
the  start, I didn't think you would mind if I just agreed to arrange a 
meeting with you to set the formal terms."
        Reaching the table I had indicated, I pulled out a seat for Minx  
and gently pushed her up to the table. "So you didn't set the terms," I 
quizzed. "So what did the two of you talk about?" Minx wasn't very good 
at dealing with other people, and I was worried that might have already 
said something that would compromise my bargaining position before I 
even started.
        I quietly took a seat as she began her sales pitch. "Get this, 
the old man wants you to get his pair of blades for him from an old 
warehouse on the Waterfront,  and he's willing to pay sixty grand for  
them."  She could barely contain her excitement at the thought of so 
much money for what she thought was a simple job. Judging by the sound 
of her voice, she must have given the impression of acceptance to the 
client already.
        I adjusted my visor to relieve my nose a bit. "Sixty kay for a
daisho? Why can't he get the blades himself?"  From my limited
experience I only knew of three reasons as to why someone would pay
someone else so much for such simple weapons.  The weapons themselves
were highly valuable, a rather insistant third party wanted these
weapons as well, or both of the above possibilities were true.
        Her smile dissipated for a second,  and she started to speak 
again, this time being cut off by a waitress who must have finally seen 
us sitting here. "Can I get you two  a drink or something?" She was yet 
another waitress who wore another fake smile and artificial tone. The 
makeup on her face clashed heavily with her otherwise serene  oriental 
features. She simply didn't need that much gloss.
        I gave  her my watery coke and ordered, "Same size, but Mister 
Pibb this time, no ice." After she wrote down the order I tossed a
dollar coin at her. The woman grabbed the coin and quickly disappeared 
into the more crowded sections of the cantina.
        I motioned Minx to continue when I lost track of the waitress. 
"As I was saying, the warehouse is owned by the Claws, a small-time gang 
of ninja-wanna-bees who use the place as their headquarters. The Claws  
wouldn't take too kindly to a geezer sensei strolling into their base."  
Minx smiled at me, as if telling me that we could cake-walk through this 
one like the wind.
        I knew better, my instincts were telling me that not all of the 
facts were yet in place.  I didn't know the sensei, or the gang, nor 
could I be sure of the situation before going in. The same instincts 
told me that this  simple job was much bigger than Minx actually knew,  
but  my curiosity had been peaked. "I'll meet with him tonight at  Lau's 
Fish at the pier."  Minx's face lit up with excitement for a quick 
second.  "But  you're staying at my flat during the meeting, we don't 
know the entire situation yet, and I don't want you to go walking 
headlong into a trap."
        Minx pouted, "You never let me have fun, do you think  I can't  
handle myself out there?" She began to look a bit miffed, "I was  doing 
this before you were, you know."  As if to emphasize the point, she 
popped her metal claws on her left hand,  pointing them directly at me 
in a threatening pose.  "Now, why should I stay behind?" she asked 
menacingly.
        "Because if it is a trap I don't want you to be in  it," I hoped 
that that was all I needed to say at this point, the last thing I  
wanted to do was to have a discussion on relationships with someone who 
had two sharp blades pointed at my cheek. "Besides, I'm not leaving you 
out of anything, I want you and Digit to pull information about the  
Claws from the Crime-net files, I want to know what we're going to be up 
against."
        Minx snarled, "I thought we were going to be doing this one 
alone, with just the two of us, like the old days."  So beautiful, so 
deadly, I reminded myself as to why  she  was called Minx. "Come on, we 
just walk in and get the swords tonight then give them to the old man 
tomorrow morning."  She retracted the claws and resumed her typical 
bouncy composure. "Think of how many times you could play that machine 
with sixty kay."
        "That better be a joke," I began as the waitress sat my cola 
down in front of me. It was very odd that I hadn't noticed her  
approaching, she either must have been  very quiet, or I was very  
distracted.  After she had left I continued, "All right, we'll go in and 
get the blades,  but we'll need to draw out the members from their 
safehouse." I took a swallow of the drink,  this time it was a nice 
improvement, cold and not watered down. "You think you can handle the 
diversion?"
        Minx smiled troublesomely at me, I guess that I didn't really 
need to ask. She's been running for about three full years, and I've 
only been at it for a couple of months. But I had an advantage over her 
which made her listen to me, I knew tactics. Normally that wouldn't make 
too much of a difference out here,  but added with a few years of 
criminology from the University, the advantage soon became clear to the 
group.  It was difficult at the start though, Minx and the others didn't 
like taking orders, and I was too apt at it. Fortunately I did know what 
I was doing, so group came around to me eventually. And I eventually 
came around to them.
        Minx was a different matter,  however, I found myself latching 
on to her more than anyone else I had known. And I had known many 
people.  I did find her both amusing and attractive, which proved 
difficult while we worked within a group since we usually went our own 
way. I could only assume that she had  the same feelings toward me as I 
had toward her,  but in this lifestyle, love only lasts a few minutes at 
a time. Everything else is business.
 
        *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
 
        Lau's place looked worse than it smelled, which was quite  
disgusting considering that Lau specialized in raw fish.  The walls  
were old and yellow,  the floor dirt-covered, the seats torn by a vast 
array of edged weapons. The lack of size of the place didn't help much 
either, the front  area used for seating was only ten feet wide and
twenty feet long. The side facing the pier was filled with six worn
seating booths. The opposite side consisted of a scuffed hallway. A low
bar separated the kitchen area from the front,  enabling all to see Lau
busily preparing the evening meals.
        As gross as the dining area was, the kitchen area was remarkably 
clean. Lau took great care in that area and prepared his meals like a 
true artist. "Max, is good to see you again. You want curry halibut?" 
Lau asked gleefully as I entered the shop.
        "You know me far too well, Lau," I smiled as I took my usual 
seat. "I'm waiting on a contact here tonight, I hope you don't mind."
        Lau looked over at me with a tinge of annoyance. "I told you I 
don't like your violence brought in here, that is what the street is 
for." Lau looked back at his work and quickly scooped it up onto a 
plate. "Donna told me you come here tonight. I already cooked the meal 
for you."
        "I'm sorry Lau," I humbly replied, knowing full well that I 
might have broken a long standing rule between our friendship. "I didn't 
expect any violence in it, and I was hoping you'ld know something about 
who it was."
        Lau came out of the kitchen with the plate and drink and limped 
over to me. "Is this how I raise you? You value your money over peace?" 
Lau seemed genuinely upset now, which didn't do much for they way I was 
feeling.
        I grabbed the chopsticks and began sorting through the meat. 
"You know where the money goes old friend." I took a bit of the halibut 
and began to munch on it. It was exceptionally spicy, and a wonderful 
sensation to get away from nutri-soy one in a while. "You're right 
though, I shouldn't have come here for the contact. I won't do it
again."
        Lau sat across from me and smiled broadly. "I know you better 
than that, you will when you think that you must," he said 
matter-of-factly. "It is important to remember why you do what it is 
you do, not just what you do." Lau spoke quietly, as he always had when 
he was teaching me. It  was how I learned more from him than I had a 
college. "I missed you while you were away, after Ling died you were all 
I had left, a son that I never had." Lau looked out over the pier
surveying everyone outside. "The time will come soon when I must pass 
down all that I am to my heir.  Since I have no bloodlines, you must 
be that heir."
        From nowhere I felt a sudden heavy weight land upon my
shoulders, many feelings poured simultaneously through my soul upon 
Lau's words. I had considered Lau my second father after my own had been 
killed on duty.  I had never realized that he had thought of me so 
heavily. "I'm not sure what to say, Lau. I didn't know." For the first 
time I couldn't find words to express my own feelings.
        Lau sat silent for a long moment. He too seemed to be having 
difficulty with the moment. "Max, you have so much yet to learn, there 
is so much I need to teach you,"  he began again slowly. "Please keep 
yourself healthy, in body and in spirit."
        "I will try Lau, that's all I can promise."  He was causing me 
to question my own lifestyle, he didn't know that I was doing it already 
for different reasons. "Lau, I don't need to tell you again my reasons 
for running, but it is enough that I regret choosing to finish it this 
way."  I hoped that it would be enough. "Anyway, about the  current 
mission," I rushed the original topic back, hoping to avoid anymore 
emotional conversation.
        Lau closed his eyes in deep thought. "When Donna was here she 
explained the job to me.  Understand that your contact did not wish to 
reveal himself to you, as he wishes to remain anonymous."
        I looked at him quizzically. "You spoke to him, without
informing me?" Why was this entire deal feeling like the worst thing 
that is ever going to happen to me?  "Any idea as to why he doesn't 
want to be known?"
        "The Claws are an old and dangerous gang a thieves who fancy  
themselves after an ancient band of ninjas," Lau spoke silently. "Your 
employer descends from Samurai.  The daisho he wants has been in his 
family since before the Time of Empires." Lau looked again beyond the 
people outside the window and to the distant seas. He was talking about 
his long forgotten homeland, which was difficult at best for him. The 
new Orient was so unlike the old, a great pity that the West corrupted 
it so. "It is a tradition of honor for the Samurai clan to hold their 
precious daisho, for without it, the Samurai no longer can maintain  his 
honor."
        "I don't understand." I listened to his words, but I didn't get 
an answer to my question. Lau must have enjoyed giving me a lesson in 
history before ever giving me an answer.
        "Some ancient ninjas existed only to destroy the honor of the  
Samurai," Lau explained. "For without  honor, the Samurai must commit  
sepuku to atone for his loss."
        I scarfed another bite of the halibut, letting the scent of the 
spices pour into my nose. "So these jerks steal the blades to get this 
Samurai to commit sepuku," I began with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, 
"They don't want to fight him head-on and do this to make it easy."
        Lau's attention returned to me from the window.  "This gang of 
children attempt to study the ancient ways of the ninja without truly  
understanding the traditions. They stole only one daisho, to destroy 
only a single Samurai warrior." Lau grabbed my hand and squeezed it 
tightly to emphasize his meaning.  "The honor of all true Samurai
demands that this act be retaliated against."
        I forced another swallow of the food and gingerly laid the 
chopsticks aside. "You're saying that another gang of enforcers,  or  
maybe even a clan, will strike against the Claws?"
        "The other ninja gangs," Lau began by carefully wording himself
beyond his accent, "and maybe some real ninja clans will be forced to
fight, to defend their own honor from the acts of these children."
        "An escalation to a clan war?" I asked rhetorically.  "I
understand your concerns." If two clans were to ever fight in Haven, all 
the city would be swept in it and most likely destroyed. It was a sad 
fact which I knew all too well.
        "You understand," Lau demanded, "this must be stopped with as 
little trouble as possible, or everything is lost." He was looking 
almost panicked now. His hands were shaking on the table, not something 
I'd  ever seen him do before.  His fears even worried me.
        "Lau," I began carefully, "this isn't the Jaden lands, honor 
feuds don't happen anymore. The security force will stop them before 
they get out of hand."  I wasn't sure who I was trying to calm, Lau, or 
myself.
        "But people will die," Lau impatiently responded. This was true.
Whenever the security force actually did anything the streets were 
filled with corpses.
        "So this descendant doesn't want to start an honor feud by 
showing up for the swords," I was grasping for this one, as Lau didn't  
seem to want to be particularly  helpful. "Therefore he hires a couple 
of guns to get them back for him in the shadows, and we restore his 
honor for him without very much bloodshed."
        Lau motioned me to eat my fish, and he stood to return to the 
kitchen. "Understand, the Samurai is old and can not attack these 
thieves himself. Therefore I told him to seek you out through Donna."
        I swallowed another bite and quickly regretted not getting a 
drink as well. "Why? You know many guns more qualified than I am." False 
humility is better than none, I thought.
        Lau returned to his post behind his bar, "I raised you to 
appreciate the ancient beliefs of the Jaden lands,  but you still need  
knowledge, and I am too old to train you anymore. Now eat."
        Lau returned to his cleaning and was quiet the rest of the time 
I was eating. I started looking at my watch more often as the sun 
settled and disappeared over the sea's horizon. In three hours I had to 
steal a pair of daisho from a bunch of people who thought they were 
ninjas. I was understandably nervous. 
        But I still didn't have any idea as to why it was me who was 
doing this. Lau wouldn't be doing this just because I knew Jaden lore,  
maybe he wanted to test me to be his heir. I just didn't know.
        For the first time I could remember, I didn't enjoy my visit at 
Lau's.
 
        *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
 
        Two hours later I found myself on top of the warehouse, waiting 
to enter into a fray. Normally the risk would make my task impossible, 
but Minx had started some trouble for the Claws with another local gang
with a few convenient lies told to her shadowy friends. The Claws sent 
the bulk of their forces out to meet that trouble, leaving only a select
few below.
        Six red blobs were roving about the room below me. The blobs 
were the enemy, setting up defensive positions  while the bulk of their 
clan were away dealing with Minx's staged diversion. "There are four 
normals in there, one tank by the door. One of them I'm not picking up 
to well, must have something."
        Minx looked down into the blackness within the skylight.  "I 
take it you want the tank?" She smiled. She squinted over the 
window, trying to discern figures in what to her could only be 
darkness. "What are they doing?"
        I looked over the area again, taking special notice of the 
normals in the corner. "Three of the normals are moving around tightly  
over there.  I think that those guys are going through some crates." I 
looked over the other half of the warehouse carefully. "The last normal 
and the two wires are having a conversation by the doors,  looks like  
some sort of business deal."
        Minx looked over at me and  smiled. "So, do you think that 
they're legit down there?"
        "Why?" I laughed softly, "Just because they're in an old 
warehouse, and it's three in the morning?" I looked again through the 
window to the moving red blobs, "I think the only real threat inside is 
the tank, there," I pointed to a section of the warehouse closest to the 
door. "I think we can avoid him altogether by nailing the three normals 
first and going back up the draw rope when we have the blades."
        "Sounds boring," Minx muttered as she pulled a large bit of 
spider-rope out of her pack. She grabbed a large metal weight from the 
same pack  and laced the rope through the various openings on the 
weight. "The noise of this thing breaking through the glass is going to 
attract a lot of attention. What if they go for the rope?"
        "Then we fight it out. If you can get the normals out of my  
way, I'll  grab the daisho," I began as I locked the laser-sight onto 
the gun port. It didn't feel right in my hand this time. Even though it 
was the same weapon I had been using for months, it felt dirty.
        "What's wrong?" She asked as I frowned at the gun. I looked 
again at the gun. There wasn't anything wrong with it. There was 
something wrong with me having it. "You feel okay?" she added, noting
my mental distance.
        "Yeah," I softly replied as I put the gun aside and readied a
brace for the rope. "I just can't shake this bad feeling I've got.
That's all."
        Minx finished tying the unweighted end of the rope to a 
ventilation rig nearby. "Are you ready for this?" I quickly nodded yes 
and braced myself for the jump. "Count to three then leap," she 
commanded.
        Three seconds later we smashed through the glass in a tremendous 
explosion of noise and shards. My visor detected the normals rushing to 
hide the cargo which they were loading, I could hear the sounds of 
whistling bullets running past me from the door. Fortunately, the dim 
lighting in here made it difficult for them to get a good mark on us.
        On the other hand, my visor gave me an advantage. I could  
easily target any of my opponents with my gun, which was still on the 
rooftop where I set it down.  Once my feet slammed hard onto the 
pavement, I rushed to the corner where the normals were packing. They  
were a bit surprised by the twin assaults of Minx's gun and my fists.  
They probably were expecting bullets from me as well, dammit. "What the 
frack are you doing?" She screamed angriy at me. I had crossed in front 
of Minx's line of fire, and she didn't appreciate it.
        The first normal quickly found himself meeting my left foot as I 
slammed it square into his chest. "Minx, get these fools offa me," I 
cried as I grabbed my opponent's dagger and disposed of him. The other 
two normals dropped what they were doing and took several steps back 
from me, probably to draw their weapons.
        The questionable one quickly darted after Minx. From the corner
of my eye I could see her, the waitress from Merchant's Row. The wench
thrust out her hand and it spewed forth five slivers of metal careening
toward Minx. The blades slammed into Minx's chest and bounced off 
harmlessly. Grinning evily, Minx unleashed her claws and lept into 
battle.
        One of my remaining normals unveiled his gun, readying it for 
a clear shot at me. I quickly grabbed one of the boxes at my feet and 
slammed it into my opponents, knocking them off their balance. The box 
lid slammed into and flew off of the head of the one with the pistol, 
releasing hundreds on styrofoam peanuts onto the floor and gashing his 
cheek.
        A loud clang hit the ground as a metal box that had been 
hidden within the small crate crashed into the ground lid first.  
I knew the markings, Common Jaden. It said "antiquities" on the crate, 
but the markings on the inner box simply said "honor" below the symbol 
of balance. I instantly knew the contents of the inner box.
        The normal flanking the tank backed away to allow enough 
distance to pull his guns. Minx had other ideas, however, and sent one 
of her talons flying into his arm . His cry of pain quickly fell 
into a dead silence as his body went limp and collapsed onto the cool 
concrete floor.
        But the normal had succeeding in distracting Minx from her main 
opponent. The "waitress" spat a steady stream of acid from her mouth. 
Minx took the sizzling liquid on her arm. The stentch of burning flesh 
filled the air.
        The last normal stood gaping at his bleeding friend who
was applying pressure on his cheek to keep from bleeding to
death. Both men backed away from me as I grimly strode to the
now-damaged metal box. I grabbed it, not even resisting the temptation 
to open it and be sure.
        Inside were the daisho of a wealthy nobleman. I grabbed hold of 
the beautiful handles and found myself instantly wielding the blades. 
They  were heavier than normal, as well as glossier. The grips were of 
white ivory and seemed to mesh perfectly with my hands.
        The tank took a great disdain to my handling of the blades 
and stepped forward, motioning his remaining minions to cease fighting.
Minx tried for another shot at the wench, letting her claws fly through 
the air, narrowly missing their mark. "Enough, Minx," I ordered, noting 
the tank's careful positioning and his obvious intent.
        The leader of the group had been wanting to deal with me only 
after his flunkies had been removed from the picture.  He was a "Tank", 
a cyber whose modifications were heavy and obvious. His entire left arm 
had been replaced with a large grappling hook. His eyes were covered 
with a visor  similar to my own. His real hand was augmented with a 
large set  of claws reaching almost an entire foot from the tips of his 
hands. "I am Crossblades," he began in a voice digitized deeply for 
effect. "You have trespassed on my territory. Consider yourself 
penalized."
        "Definitely not ninja," I growled in reply. My palms were 
sweating profusely as I clinched my grasp on the ivory handles  of the  
daisho. "You are only a child playing the adult games of war." I 
couldn't accurately describe it, but I was actually disgusted by the 
Tank in front of me. He was an affront to all that was pure, he hid
behind machines and bullets to make himself strong. He was unworthy to
even learn ninjitsu, never-less consider himself a ninja.
        The Tank's only reply to me was his firing of the grappling hook 
directly toward my face. It was simple enough to remove the threat. The 
katana sliced through the taser wire connecting the hook to its 
owner as I slipped past the attack.
        I closed the gap between myself and the tank.  The tank saw my 
advance and found himself unprepared to confront me directly so soon. He 
hurriedly threw down a grenade in front of him. The shell exploded into 
a large burst of black dust filling the air before me.
        His ploy did not succeed. My infrared visor detailed his
movements as he backed away from me off to the side. I leapt behind 
him and spun with the katana outward again,  cutting into his grey armor 
under his arm. "Nice trick, it may work next time," I goaded.
        Half out of frustration and half out of anger, the tank
unleashed his claws at me, slamming hard into my leg.  His growl seemed 
to point the fact that he was out to kill me in any fashion which may 
succeed. I wasn't as prepared to let him.
        I could feel the pain in my leg, but somehow it simply didn't 
matter. The daisho and I were acting in a perfect concert, the weapons
in perfect balance. Lau had already taught me the art of swordsmanship
well, but these blades simply made me better. The short blade feinted
across the tank's stomach plate. He pulled his stomach back, which 
forced his head and chest forward, allowing the katana to slash across 
his brow. The blade cut deeply into his visor, and the metallic red of 
human blood poured down his face. His scream cut across the warehouse 
and echoed hard against the blank white walls.
        The tank fell backwards hard as his once-massive strength left 
his body. I quietly sheathed my blades as the remaining three minions 
strode over in a state of shock and confusion. I took a quick survey of 
them, to make sure they weren't going to act a reprisal. "Now, explain," 
I quietly ordered,  knowing full well that Crossblades would likely be 
dead within a few minutes.
        The tank began choking on his own blood as it drained into his 
gaping mouth. "Explain what, gaijin?" The tank's words were coarse and 
scratching, as he fought to speak through the damage he had taken.
        I knelt by him, and poised to strike at his knees with the 
katana. "Don't play with me, tank, you're no more a ninja than I'm 
mayor. Besides, I could make your death even more painful." To emphasize 
the point, I let my strike fly, only stopping just short of actually 
hitting him.
        Crossblades tensed his fists around the katana blade. "This is 
personal, boy, does not concern you," he began to speak. The wench Minx 
was squaring off with started to step forward, a look of despair etched 
on her face. Minx started to hold her back, but her well-hidden 
compassion let her pass. I could see a tear slip out of her eye, yet I 
could not feel sorry for her.
        "An honor war concerns me, tank,"  I muttered in a quiet anger, 
trying and failing to conceal my disgust. A loud voice in my mind kept 
urging me to finish off this dreg. It was a temptation I was finding 
increasingly difficult to resist.
        Crossblades tensed his fists. "This was not to start a war,"  he
painfully began. "It was revenge."  The blood raced from what were his
eyes and into his mouth. I had dealt his death blow, and he knew it.  He
was willing to confess everything to me, to atone for his defeat. It 
would be a better atonement than death, I quietly thought to myself.
        The reasons were still unclear, there were still only riddles to 
this mess. "Revenge on whom?" I spoke deeply and quietly, trying to
refrain  from torturing him further.
        He slowly lifted his head up to face me, even though he
couldn't actually see me. "The blades belonged to the man who killed 
my father." His voice began to trail, he didn't have very much time 
left to him. "Killed him for a fragging restaurant title," he completed 
softly as his body strength left him completely.
        "Restaurant?" A hellish image flashed before me, the explanation 
of all I had questioned was clear. It made so much sense. I couldn't 
believe how thick-headed I must have been. "Minx,  call an ambulance for 
this man, tend to him." I started to lose control of my anger, my rage.  
"Put the charges onto my account," I commanded as I stood.
        Minx quickly put her hands onto my shoulder, but this time it 
wasn't to be comforting. "I'm making the call now, but don't be rash, 
please." Minx gave me a stern look,  but not a threatening one.
        "Crossblades might be lying," I began as I got up, finally 
realizing the extent of the damage in my leg. "But he doesn't have a 
reason to."
 
        *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
 
        It took forty minutes to reach Lau's place. By the time I had 
arrived I had spent my anger. All that was left was frustration, and 
disappointment.
        All of the shack's lights were out, not even the candles Lau 
kept by his bed were lit. Lau never went without lights if he could do 
anything about it. In light of the current circumstances, I was
bothered. It would be all too simply convenient for  Lau to be attacked 
while Minx and I were away against Crossblades and his goons.
        The oaken door was locked, meaning that any infiltrators about 
would have had to enter through the windows above.  Instinct forced me 
to draw the katana from its sheath. My intelligence kept me from kicking 
the door down. I had my own key to the place, so I used it.
        It was fortunate that my visor didn't require light to function. 
Lau's place would have been completely black to me otherwise. As it was 
the place was unusually cold, the kitchen stove's heat was the only 
thing give base to where I was.  The restaurant was clean, nothing had 
been in here since I was last talking to Lau.
        I felt my way to the staircase, brushing aside the wooden 
barrier to Lau's chambers. The stairs were cold as well. I realized then 
that I should have checked the outside walls for heat traces. "Lau?" I 
softly called out to the bedroom above, quietly stepping up the old 
wooden staircase. I was betrayed by the loud creaking of the wood as my 
boots softly landed on the seventh stair up.  I drew the short blade in 
expectation of a fight.
        The fight did not happen. Instead all I could hear was the soft, 
low breathing of someone close to death. "Lau?" I called again, not
really expecting an answer this time.  I brushed away the beaded curtain 
to his chambers and quietly walked inside, mentally reverting my vision 
to normal.
        "Lau," I whispered upon seeing the dimly lit vision of my elder
lying on his bed with a great cut across his chest. He had been lying
here only a few  minutes,  slowing losing precious life. It was too late
for me to save him.  "It was true, then. You did kill him," I muttered
in grief more than disappointment.
        Lau painfully nodded yes and slowly pointed to the wall. There 
was a picture of Lau, with his former wife, and someone who looked 
strikingly similar to Crossblades. I could only assume that that someone 
was his father.
        "He was your business partner?" I questioned, hoping that Lau 
would somehow explain what happened those many years ago. "I don't 
understand," I whispered.
        "He told me," Minx replied from the doorway.  I hadn't noticed 
her entering, but it was comforting somehow to know that she was with 
me. "Mang Yin was the former leader of the Claws Clan. He used the place 
as a point for his gang."  Minx walked over beside me and looked deeply 
at Lau. "For five years Lau had tolerated it, but the violence of the 
Claws became to much for him to bear," she drew a deep breath, "so they 
fought each other for the title." Minx gingerly traced my shoulder blade 
to my neck. "He killed his friend,  because personal honor was greater 
than friendship to him." Minx put her arm around me. "He lived with that 
for fifteen years, Max. He couldn't anymore."
        Minx's explanation explained everything, but it didn't make me 
feel any better. Lau let his hand gently fall to his side.  I found  
myself unable to touch him, unable to simply hold his hand through this.
        "Sepuku." The only answer that Lau knew. He had merely waited 
until the time was proper, until he could teach me the proper ways of 
the Samurai. Until he could prevent me from making his mistake.
        It never is easy to deal with feelings, especially when you're 
here, on the streets. Lau was the only real father I knew, the only 
person I could depend on my entire life, and now he was gone. He felt he 
needed to die, he had already lost his honor,  and he knew he couldn't
fight for his blades. He passed that duty on to his heir.
        After being raised by him, and being saved by him countless 
times, all I could do was watch him die. "Lau," my words were overrun by 
the sadness I felt, "I love you, father."  I could feel Minx's hand
lying gently on my shoulder. She was trying to comfort me through this. 
"I'm sorry I never told you, I never knew how, I never learned." I 
reached my hand to his still face, trying to control my shaking. "Good 
bye, friend." I gently lowered my hand and closed Lau's knowing eyes for 
the last time.
        "Max", Minx softly spoke to me, "we need to call this in." She 
gently pulled me away from the bed. "He deserves to be buried."
        I looked out of the same window across the seas which separated 
Lau from his home. "Not here, Donna, he needs to go home." Minx nodded 
softly and walked down the stairs to the restaurant.
        "It is important to remember why you do what it is you do, not 
just what you do," Lau had said to me. Now I understood what it was that 
he meant. I gingerly sheathed the katana and wakizashi into the belt. "I 
may not yet be worthy,  but in this age I will have opportunity to prove  
myself."  The belt fit snug around my waist, as if it had  been  
tailored to me. Perhaps it was.


-- 

"Our crew's living quarters have left the ship."
			- Secundam Yto aboard the IRON CLAW II
Neale Davidson, another writer wanna-be. neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu