James Axler – Keepers of the Sun

Living space.

Chapter Thirty

The following day was dull and oppressive, without a breath of wind to stir the trees around the ville. It seemed to be trapping the layers of pollution that hung over the peaked roofs like an orange fog, catching at the back of the nose and the throat, making the eyes burn and water.

Hideyoshi looked in at breakfast to tell them the kite flying exhibition had been abandoned because of the inclement weather.

“But the basho for the sumo wrestlers will go ahead as planned.”

“What time?” Ryan asked, his mouth full of scrambled eggs and undercooked hash browns.

“An hour or so. Do not hurry your food. That is bad for the soul of the inner man. Take time to chew and digest all properly. That way there will be balance within the body.”

He stalked out, the tip of his sword’s sheath scraping on the wooden floor.

Only the outlanders were left, sitting together at the long table, with silent servants standing against the high walls of the dining room.

Ryan lowered his voice. “First chance we’ve had to talk about it,” he said.

“Their plan to move in on Deathlands?” J.B. asked. “Gotta stop them.”

“Agreed.” Jak was munching a huge honey-filled doughnut, ignoring the stickiness that trickled over his chin.

“Need the grens,” Ryan said. “They keep weapons in that What they call it?”

“The yagura ,” Mildred answered. “The corner tower where they store ammo, arrows and stuff.”

“That’s it.” He looked at the Armorer. “Before they have this wrestling contest, you and Jak try and get along there. Shouldn’t be a problem. They’re amazingly trusting. Let us go where we want. These new men he’s letting in as sec men worry me bound to be one or two ronin spies among them. They get at any plas-ex or grens, and it’ll be goodbye time for Mashashige and his merry men. Just get three or four grens, J.B., and make them timers. Then, when we find the right moment, we’ll head for the gateway and blow it on the way out.”

“Sure.” J.B. wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Get that honey off your chin, Jak, and we’ll go to it.”

“GAIA! THAT’S triple spectacular,” Krysty said admiringly, stopping at the entrance to the room where the competition was to be held.

Seats were arrayed in a large circle, with a couple of aisles between them. At the center of the room was a raised platform, covered in what looked like very fine sand. It was contained within a loop of thick rope that was coiled several inches high, making the arena into a sort of pit.

Bright satin ribbons were tied to posts at each corner of the basho area.

Hideyoshi had seen the outlanders come in and scurried to greet them, rubbing his hands together with excitement. “This is such a thrilling thing for us all. After the bitter sadness of the dying, we have this visit today from some of the top rikishi in all of the country.”

“Are the rikishi the wrestlers?” Mildred asked.

The samurai hardly seemed to notice that he was actually having a discussion with a woman.

“Yes. One is called Konishiki, after one of greatest sumo fighters. And he came from a foreign country. One of the greatest yokozuna of all times.”

“That means a champion?” Mildred asked.

“Yes. The original Konishiki was a fine champion. Very big, big man.”

Mildred scratched the side of her nose. “I believe I’ve heard of him. Was he one of the real top fighters around just before skydark?”

Hideyoshi nodded. “Yes, he was.”

“I saw him fighting on teevee,” she said.

The samurai gasped, eyes wider than pinwheels. “You saw the great Konishiki himself? No. That cannot be, Dr. Wyeth. He passed to the land of spirits during the long winters. That was fully every bit of eighty years ago. How could you have seen him fight?”

Mildred swallowed, seeing the trap that yawned in front of her. It was better to explain nothing than to try and fail to explain everything, Trader used to say. She knew that because John Dix had told her.

“I once was in a ville where the baron had a nuke generator and he had a working vid machine. Konishiki came from the island of Hawaii, didn’t he?”