One of them reached out towards the begging bowl.
Everyone has a conditional clause in their life, some little unspoken addition to the rules like ‘except when I really need to’ or ‘unless no one is looking’ or, indeed, ‘unless the first one was nougat’. Soto had for centuries embraced a belief in the sanctity of all life and the ultimate uselessness of violence, but his personal conditional clause was ‘but not the hair. No one touches the hair, okay?’
Even so, everyone ought to have a chance.
The attackers recoiled as he threw the bowl against the wall, where the hidden blades buried themselves in the woodwork.
Then it began to tick.
Solo ran back down the alley, skidded round the corner and then shouted, ‘Duck!’
Unfortunately for the Auditors, alas, he was just a tiny, tiny fraction of a second too late-
Tick
Lu-Tze was in his Garden of Five Surprises when the air sparkled and fragmented and swirled into a shape in front of him.
He looked up from his ministrations to the yodelling stick insect, who’d been off its food.
Lobsang stood on the path. The boy was wearing a black robe dotted with stars, which blew and rattled its rags around him on this windless morning as if he was standing in the centre of a gale. Which, Lu-Tze supposed, he more or less was.
‘Back again, wonder boy?’ said the sweeper.
‘In a way, I never leave,’ said Lobsang. ‘Things have gone well with you?’
‘Don’t you know?’
‘I could. But part of me has to do this the traditional way.’
‘Well, the abbot is mighty suspicious and there’s some amazing rumours flying around the place. I didn’t say much. What do I know about anything? I’m just a sweeper.’
With that, Lu-Tze turned his attention to the sick insect. He’d counted to four under his breath before Lobsang said: ‘Please? I have to know. I believe that the fifth surprise is you. Am I right?’
Lu-Tze cocked his head. A low noise, which he’d heard for so long he no longer consciously heard it, had changed its tone.
‘The spinners are all winding out,’ he said. ‘They know you’re here, lad.’
‘I shall not be here long, Sweeper. Please?’
‘You just want to know my little surprise?’
‘Yes. I know nearly everything else,’ said Lobsang.
‘But you are Time. What I tell you in the future you’ll know now, right?’
‘But I’m partly human. I want to stay partly human. That means doings things the right way round. Please?’
Lu-Tze sighed and looked for a while down the avenue of cherry blossom.
‘When the pupil can beat the master, there is nothing the master cannot tell him,’ he said. ‘Remember?’
‘Yes.’
‘Very well. The Iron Dojo should be free.’
Lobsang looked surprised. ‘Uh, the Iron Dojo … Isn’t that the one with all the sharp spikes in the walls?’
‘And the ceiling, yes. The one that’s like being inside a giant porcupine turned inside out.’
Lobsang looked horrified. ‘But that’s not for practice! The rules say-‘
‘That’s the one,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘And I say we use it.’
‘Oh.’
‘Good. No argument,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘This way, lad.’
Blossom cascaded from the trees as they passed. They entered the monastery, and took the same route they’d taken once before. This brought them into the Hall of the Mandala, and the sand rose like a dog welcoming its master and spiralled in the air far below Lobsang’s sandals. Lu-Tze heard the shouts of the attendants behind him.
News like this spread throughout the valley like ink in water. Hundreds of monks, apprentices and sweepers were trailing the pair as they crossed the inner courtyards, like the tail of a comet.
Above them, all the time, petals of cherry blossom fell like snow. At last Lu-Tze reached the high, round metal door of the Iron Dojo. The clasp of the door was fifteen feet up. No one who did not belong there was supposed to open the door of the dojo.
The sweeper nodded at his former apprentice.
‘You do it,’ he said. I can’t.’
Lobsang glanced at him, and then looked up at the high clasp. Then he pressed a hand against the iron.
Rust spread under his fingers. Red stains spread out across the ancient metal. The door began to creak, and then to crumble. Lu-Tze prodded it with an experimental finger, and a slab of biscuit-strong metal fell out and collapsed on the flagstones.
‘Very impress-‘ he began. A squeaky rubber elephant bounced off his head.
‘Bikkit!’
The crowd parted. The chief acolyte ran forward, carrying the abbot.
‘What is the wanna bikkit BIKKIT meaning of this? Who is wozza funny man this person, Sweeper? The spinners are dancing in their hall!’
Lu-Tze bowed.
‘He is Time, reverend one, as you have suspected,’ he said. Still bent in the bow, he looked up and sideways at Lobsang.
‘Bow!’ he hissed.
Lobsang looked puzzled. ‘I should bow even now?’ he said.
‘Bow, you little stonga, or I shall teach you such discipline! Show deserved respect! You are still my apprentice until I give you leave!’
Shocked, Lobsang bowed.
‘And why do you visit us in our timeless valley?’ said the abbot.
Tell the abbot!’ Lu-Tze snapped.
‘I… I wish to learn the Fifth Surprise,’ said Lobsang.
‘-reverend one-‘ said Lu-Tze.
‘-reverend one,’ Lobsang finished.
‘You visit us just to learn of our clever sweeper’s fancies?’ said the abbot.
‘Yes, er, reverend one.’
‘Of all the things Time could be doing, you wish to see an old man’s trick? Bikkit!’
‘Yes, reverend one.’ The monks stared at Lobsang. His robe still fluttered this way and that in the teeth of the intangible gale, the stars glinting when they caught the light.
The abbot smiled a cherubic smile. ‘So should we all,’ he said. ‘None of us has ever seen it, I believe. None of us has ever been able to wheedle it out of him. But… this is the Iron Dojo. It has rules! Two may walk in, but only one can walk out! This is no practice dojo! Wanna ‘lephant! Do you understand?’
‘But I don’t want-‘ Lobsang began, and the sweeper jerked an elbow into his ribs.
‘You say “Yes, reverend one,”‘ he growled.
‘But I never intended-‘
This time the back of his head was slapped.
‘This is no time to step back!’ Lu-Tze said. ‘You’re too late, wonder boy!’ He nodded to the abbot. ‘My apprentice understands, reverend one.’
‘Your apprentice, Sweeper?’
‘Oh, yes, reverend one,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘My apprentice. Until I say otherwise.’
‘Really? Bikkit! Then he may enter. You too, Lu-Tze.’
‘But I only meant to-‘ Lobsang protested.
‘Inside!’ Lu-Tze roared. ‘Will you shame me? Shall people think I have taught you nothing?’
The inside of the Iron Dojo was, indeed, a darkened dome full of spikes. They were needle thin and there were tens of thousands of them covering the nightmare walls.
‘Who would build something like this?’ said Lobsang, looking up at the glistening points that covered even the ceiling.
‘It teaches the virtues of stealth and discipline,’ said Lu-Tze, cracking his knuckles. Impetuosity and speed can be as dangerous to the attacker as to the attacked, as perhaps you will learn. One condition: we are all human here? Agreed?’
‘Of course, Sweeper. We are all human here.’
‘And shall we agree: no tricks?’
‘No tricks,’ said Lobsang. ‘But-‘
‘Are we fighting, or are we talking?’
‘But, look, if only one can walk out, that means I’ll have to kill you-‘ Lobsang began.
‘Or vice versa, of course,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘That is the rule, yes. Shall we get on?’
‘But I didn’t know that!’
‘In life, as in breakfast cereal, it is always best to read the instructions on the box,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘This is the Iron Dojo, wonder boy!’ He stepped back and bowed.
Lobsang shrugged, and bowed in return.
Lu-Tze took a few steps back. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then went through a series of simple moves, limbering up. Lobsang winced to hear the crackle of joints.
Around Lobsang there was a series of snapping noises, and for a moment he thought of the old sweeper’s bones. But tiny hatches all over the curved wall were swinging open. He could hear whispers as people jostled for position. And by the sound of it, there were a great many people.
He extended his hands, and let himself rise gently in the air.
‘I thought we said no tricks?’ said Lu-Tze.
‘Yes, Sweeper,’ said Lobsang, poised in mid-air. ‘And then I thought: never forget Rule One.’
‘Aha! Well done. You’ve learned something!’
Lobsang drifted closer. ‘You cannot believe the things that I have seen since last I saw you,’ he said. ‘Words cannot describe them. I have seen worlds nesting within worlds, like those dolls they carve in Uberwald. I have heard the music of the years. I know more than I can ever understand. But I do not know the Fifth Surprise. It is a trick, a conundrum… a test.’