I didn't acknowledge either of them. Just for a second, the humiliation facing the young Killer distracted me. Maybe he'd brought it on himself. But he'd been taught by Nelson Brick and Brick obviously didn't intend to take any responsibility for what his students learned.

By the time I convinced myself to copy Parker's shrug, Master Song Duk Soon had shifted to confront his own student.

The flushed kid stood in front of his Master, practically cowering.

Soon said something in a harsher tone than he'd used with Brick. At once the kid dropped to his knees, bowed his head.

"You have disgraced me," Soon announced distinctly.

"Remove your belt. You no longer merit it. I will consider how honor may be restored."

He didn't stay to see whether the kid obeyed him. He simply turned his back and left.

The kid had gone stark pale, and his mouth quivered. His hands shook as he untied his belt, folded it carefully, and set it down in front of him. Bowing, he touched his forehead to the belt. When he looked up, his eyes were full of tears.

I left him there myself. I couldn't do anything else for him. The last thing he needed right now was an audience.

I wanted to go after Master Song Duk Soon, tell him what I thought of him. Fortunately both my arm and my guts were feeling better, which allowed me to recover some common sense. That didn't come naturally.

Most days I only had common sense when I could channel it from a previous life. But after a couple of deep breaths, I remembered that nothing Soon or Brick did was any of my business. If I tried to throw my weight around with them, I'd just get myself fired.

Parker hadn't gone far. Instead of following Master Soon, I stopped to complain to the Tournament Coordinator.

"Help me out, Parker," I growled under my breath.

"Is this normal? Do the teachers always piss on the students around here?" In case he hadn't seen what happened, I explained, "Soon just stripped that kid's belt."

Parker cocked an eyebrow, glanced at me sidelong.

"Like I said, Brew." He spread his hands.

"True believers.

"It's traditional," he went on before I could object.

"Everything the student does reflects on the teacher."

"No shit," I muttered.

"His teacher taught him to fight like that. And act like that."

Neill nodded.

"And put too much pressure on him. Made winning too important. I know what you're saying.

"What can I tell you?" He scanned the rings while he spoke, keeping an eye on the events.

"The arts we study are predominantly Asian. They all downplay individualism and emphasize respect for authority. But it takes different forms in different countries.

"Tae Kwon Do is Korean. So is Master Soon. When a Korean challenges you, he wants to prove his school is better than yours, his style is better, his country is better. The Chinese are more personal. When a Chinese challenges you, he wants to prove his sifu is better than yours. If he's a sifu himself, then he wants to demonstrate the superiority of what he knows.

"As for the Japanese, they turn everything into spirituality." Parker smiled distantly.

"According to Gichin Funakoshi, karate doesn't have anything to do with winning or losing. It's about 'perfection of character." A Japanese karate-ka isn't judged by success or failure. He's supposed to display his best skills with devotion and humility.

"You could say the Koreans care about winning, the Chinese care about looking good, and the Japanese care about not caring."

Then he shrugged.

"Those are the stereotypes, anyway. We all know lots of exceptions."

I could think of a few myself. If the Japanese were so all-fired spiritual, why had they spent half a century trying to conquer the world?

Bad leadership, I suppose.

"The real problem here," Parker continued in case I'd missed the point, "is that Master Soon's student isn't Asian. He's obedient because he knows he's supposed to be, and he desperately wants to be accepted. But he doesn't really understand the way he was just treated. He thinks like an individual.

"As for Brick," Neill finished sourly, "he's pure-blood American. It's all ego with him. He isn't as tough as he thinks. If you ever get a chance to compare him with Sternway sensei, you'll see the difference right away."

I wasn't convinced I'd felt Brick's strength and I had no intention of being impressed by Sternway. But the Tournament Coordinator didn't have to spend his time talking to me, and I wasn't about to repay the courtesy by dissing his sensei, so I just thanked him and let him get back to work.

I wanted a change of air to clear my head, so I decided to tell Bernie I needed a break. Get out of the hall for a few minutes. Find someplace where the AC was set on high, maybe lie down on the floor and practice breathing.

When I looked around for the Security Chief, however, I spotted Deborah Messenger across the rings. In fact, she seemed to be staring in my direction. She must've returned while I was concentrating on Brick and Soon.

Suddenly I didn't give a shit about Killer Karate, the Tae Kwon Do Academy, or their poor abused students.

Since I was supposed to be a dignitary, I didn't rush straight toward her. Instead I started to pick my way through the crowds around the hall.

She turned away as I moved. Oh, well. As long as she didn't leave before I reached her After a minute or so, I saw her talking to Sternway, Lacone, and Sammy Posten.

OK, she was busy. No need to hurry.

Partway around the walls, I came on Ned Gage. He was watching another round of team kumite, but he didn't seem to be engrossed in it, so I stopped to thank him for getting Brick off my case.

He was shorter than Neill, and pudgier. Apparently being a balls-to-the-wall martial artist didn't mean you had to stay slim.

Brush-cut hair, a wide mouth, and a mustache that only looked straight when he grinned emphasized the roundness of his face. Judging by the lines on his cheeks and around his eyes, he grinned a lot. If I hadn't already seen him in action, I wouldn't have believed he had enough personal authority to button his blazer. Nevertheless he carried himself with the same relaxation I'd already noticed in men like Sternway and Soon, pliant and worrisome as Semtex.

Raising his eyebrows, he asked, "You all right, Mr. Axbrewder? I wouldn't want to let Nelson Brick kick me."

I dismissed the question.

"Call me Brew, Mr. Gage. Anyone who gets me out of trouble the way you did doesn't have to be formal."

"Brew." He grinned.

"I'm Ned." Then he added, "I was just doing my job. You didn't need rescuing." He looked me up and down quickly.

"I suspect you don't let the Bricks of the world kick you twice."