He shook his head.

"No, Axbrewder. You don't understand." His lack of inflection was the viscid surface of a pool of acid.

"This has to be resolved. If it isn't, it will tear Martial America apart. They're approaching it the traditional way, the only way it can be resolved. A challenge between schools. Both Komatori-san and Mr.

T'ang are prepared to fight for their masters' honor. Their students are ready to back them up. I suggest you get out of their way."

"Do you mean to tell me," I protested, "that you buy this bullshit? You think Hong stole the chops, and Nakahatchi killed him to get even? In case you haven't heard, Hong was killed in his bed. Do you actually believe that Nakahatchi could sneak up on a renowned fighter like Hong Fei-Tung, break his neck in his sleep?"

Never mind the obvious fact that Hong had no known access to Essential Shotokan.

Without faltering Sternway countered, "Do you know anything about Ninjitsu?"

I stared at him. He had everyone's attention now. Even Ko-ma tori and T'ang shifted in his direction.

"It's an assassin's art," he explained.

"It teaches stealth and an imaginative use of weapons. Similar arts have developed in other countries. The Thuggee in India, for example.

But no one has ever surpassed Ninjitsu.

"It's a Japanese art."

He shocked me. Nakahatchi? A Ninja? Surrounded by men and women so charged with adrenaline and fear that they could hardly hold themselves back, I could still feel a kind of horrified admiration.

The IAMA director was that confident.

Despite my shock, however, I had to admit that he might be right about one thing. Maybe a fight was the best way to resolve this.

Komatori sure as hell thought so.

"Withdraw, Brew-san," he told me like the stroke of a blade.

"Mr. Sternway indulges in fancies. I don't hear him. I leave the theft of the chops to you. And Sifu Hong's murder. You've earned that much respect from me. But the accusation against my master I leave to no one."

"Yes, withdraw," T'ang Wen sneered.

"It may be that you have earned honor from this Japanese, but you have dishonored yourself to me. With your own mouth you promised that your presence would protect my master. Now I have seen how your promises are kept. You have no word to speak that I will hear."

Inwardly I cringed. He was right. I'd bought Hong's cooperation with promises I couldn't keep.

And I'd given his killer a reason to take him out.

But I was still bigger than Komatori and T'ang. I was bigger than most of their students. And I could yell louder.

"You want me out of your way?" I barked at both of them.

"Fine. I'll 'withdraw."

" My voice rose.

"On one condition. No one else fights. Your students stay out of it.

They accept the outcome." In a brawl any number of them would get hurt. With so much martial expertise running loose, someone might be killed.

"Otherwise I'll haul the cops in here, have them arrest the whole pack of you."

An empty threat. In this weather I couldn't summon anyone except Edgar Moy and his two uniforms. But that might be enough "No!" Aronson shouted immediately. Damn fool. Half the karate-ka with him were kids, but he was old enough to know better.

At once T'ang's students roared back. In an instant the whole room erupted with challenges. Pajamas andgis and street clothes started for each other.

Sternway watched me nervelessly.

Before I could react, however, Hideo wheeled on his people. His voice rang out with a command I didn't understand.

His students jerked to attention as if he'd cracked a whip in their faces. He had that much moral authority for them.

"You will do as Brew-san says." Each word struck with the force of a fist.

"You'll watch and do nothing. Otherwise you'll dishonor Nakahatchi sensei and you know I won't allow that."

I wanted to give him a round of applause, but I didn't have time. As soon as he finished, I turned on T'ang Wen.

I didn't speak. I didn't have to. Komatori's example was more eloquent than anything I could've said. I simply glared into T'ang's face until he gave a reluctant nod.

"This Japanese has given me face," he told his students bitterly.

"You will not take it away. While those of Essential Sho-tokan remain only to witness, you will do the same. If you do not, I am dishonored regardless of the outcome."

I thought that some of his supporters would object. They had more at stake Hong was dead, Nakahatchi wasn't. Nevertheless they agreed ungraciously, muttering to each other as they did so.

That was the best I could do. To no one in particular, I muttered, "Fine. Knock yourselves out." Feeling like a coward, I moved into the crowd toward Sternway.

He considered my approach scornfully. As soon as I reached him, I took hold of his left forearm and dug my fingers in hard, just to get his attention. When he winced involuntarily, I let go.

"Don't leave," I breathed in his ear.

"I want to talk to you when this is over."

Without warning his right hand flicked under his left arm. His fingertips brushed my ribs, he hardly touched me and yet a sudden spasm of pain clenched my chest. He must've caught a nerve. For a moment or two I couldn't move. If he'd decided to put his entire arm down my throat, I wouldn't have been able to stop him.

"I'll be right here," he replied like a warning.

I sneaked a quick gulp of air.

At least we understood each other. He knew what I wanted to talk to him about. And I knew I was as good as dead.

In the center of the dojo Hideo Komatori and T'ang Wen prepared themselves for battle.

They stood six or seven paces apart. Hideo bowed to T'ang with his palms on the sides of his thighs, then shifted into a fighting stance like the one Nakahatchi had used on me earlier. T'ang replied by dropping into a kind of crouch, his right leg doubled under him, his left extended ahead with only the ball of his foot on the floor. In that position he covered his right fist with his left hand and straightened his arms toward Komatori.

Neither of them moved.