Sternway led us in a stately procession. If we'd had our headlights on, you would've thought we'd missed the turnoff for a funeral. What we were doing seemed at once grave and ludicrous, packed with significance to the people involved, and more than a bit overwrought from any other perspective. Rather like the tournament in that respect. Or the martial arts themselves.

For forty-five minutes or so we wandered through an indistinguishable assortment of Garner's schools, stadiums, athletic supply warehouses, shopping centers, playing fields, and suburbs, all of which looked like they'd been cloned from various sections of Indianapolis. I felt profoundly lost, despite my map. I needed shadows, darkness, buildings undermined by age, streets pocked with use like smallpox a city inhabited by loneliness, secrets, and disrepair. A city where Bernie's death made sense. Even sunglasses couldn't protect me from so much newness and light.

Unfortunately I had to cope anyway.

Alex Lacone's "dream" sat on a lot big enough to hold a couple of Puerta del Sol's high schools. From a distance it resembled a suite of professional buildings designed for doctors and dentists. I wouldn't have recognized our destination if a mall-style marquee lettered in hubris hadn't proclaimed:

Martial America National Center for the Martial Arts You couldn't miss the exaggeration. Despite the size of the lot, there were only two buildings. The rest of the area stood empty, unfinished. Half of it hadn't even been paved.

Nevertheless Lacone had put up a good front. Strips of lawn punctuated by young sycamore trees and glistening with recent water edged the lot on all sides. When the trees grew a bit bigger, they'd help disguise the limitations of the development. In the meantime, the marquee positively shone with self-confidence, and light poles like spires marked the boundaries of the pavement.

The square buildings themselves didn't exactly dominate the horizon they were only three stories high but they made a striking impression.

For one thing, their concrete walls were so white they must've been polished like teeth twice a week. And in so much eye-straining white the tinted glass of the long double display windows on the ground level and the smaller windows above looked deep and dark, almost black as inviting as shadows, or as forbidding. In addition, the levels of the buildings were offset from each other so that the second story extended in one direction and the third in another. And they didn't sit squarely on their side of the lot. Instead they'd been placed at angles so that they met and mated at one corner of each ground floor but not at the upper levels.

One advantage of their orientation, I saw as I followed Stern-way and the Dodge into the parking lot, was that it diminished the prominence of any particular side. A square setting would've favored the sides that happened to face the street and the parking lot. But as they were, Lacone could at least pretend to touchy martial arts egos that all his locations were equally desirable.

This mattered because each side housed a different school. A sign over the display windows on the left wall of the nearer building announced Essential Shotokan, with Master Soon's Tae Kwon Do Academy on the right. An identical sign identified Malaysian Fiehtine Arts in the next building.

Twenty or thirty other cars occupied the lot, but the sheer size of the space made them look like they'd been abandoned. I wasn't convinced that even Carner could supply enough schools and students to make Lacone's "dream" come alive.

Bracing myself, I climbed out into the heat to join Sternway and Komatori.

"Here it is," Sternway told me unnecessarily. Despite his un-revealing demeanor, I thought I detected a note of complacency in his voice.

Encouraging him to talk, I asked, "Whose idea was it to angle the buildings like this?" I wanted him in a forthcoming mood.

"Mine," he admitted.

"But most of my suggestions involved the dojos themselves."

Then he directed my attention to the unfinished lot.

"Mr. La-cone's plans include at least four more buildings like these, two or more on each side, with a tournament facility, museum, and stores in the center."

Lacone had described a hall-of-fame-style museum and a complete education center, repository, and promotional outfit. Plus a variety of martial arts suppliers.

And all of it white enough to blind a solar astronomer.

"As you can see," Sternway continued, "he has a long way to go. But he has the space and the enthusiasm, and I believe he can raise the money.

If he attracts enough prominent schools, that will call attention to the development.

"In turn, Martial America's success will benefit the martial arts all across the country." HRH sounded like he was reading this speech off a particularly dull brochure.

"Carner will become a Mecca for masters and students everywhere."

Just for something to say, I remarked, "He's ambitious."

Sternway regarded me through a pair of mirrored sunglasses that hid his eyes.

"Every man worth knowing is."

That was debatable, as they say, but I didn't bother. I was sweating again I wanted to get out of the sun.

Fortunately the students had already opened the back of the station wagon to off-load the display. Hideo Komatori joined them, and they raised the case between them as if it were sacred or full of gelignite.

Sternway and I followed them almost respectfully as they approached Essential Shotokan.

Its only entrance stood under an aw nine between the lone dark windows.

The heavy oak door had been carved with symbols and kanji which probably conveyed meaning to martial artists, but which told me nothing. Komatori produced a key, and I held the door open while we went in.

I found myself facing a stairway to the second floor in a hallway which ran back toward the center of the building. Both the stairs and the hall sported beige indoor outdoor carpeting that absorbed sound. On either side, wide entry ways like portals supplied access to large rooms.

Immediately Sternway started to act like a tour guide.

"On this level all the buildings have the same layout. To the right is the main dojo." That room went all the way to the far wall of building, and was roughly half as deep as it was long.

"Notice the raised hardwood floor and the mirrors."

I could hardly help noticing. Even under fluorescent lights the floor seemed to glow, polished by hours of bare feet and care. Reflecting in the floor-length mirrors, which covered every foot of wall not already taken up by windows or doors, that glow appeared to fill the entire room.

"Hardwood is the best training surface," Sternway explained, "because it flexes slightly, gives a bit of cushioning. Of course," he remarked by the way, "when Grade Brothers Jujitsu moves in, their floor will be covered with wrestling mats." Then he resumed his lecture.

"The mirrors help students watch and correct their own techniques.

"No one is here now because Essential Shotokan doesn't hold classes during the early afternoon." He seemed sure of his facts without consulting Komatori.

"Nakahatchi sensei teaches advanced seminars in the morning. But from 4:00 until 10:00 the dojo will be in use almost continuously."

When I'd seen enough which took me about four seconds HRH beckoned me to consider the room on the left.

"This dojo," he told me like I couldn't have guessed on my own, "is primarily for equipment training."

It also had a hardwood floor, but instead of mirrors its walls were lined with heavy bags, speed bags, uppercut bags, stretching and weight machines, thick vertical wooden boards with padding at their ends makiwara, Sternway called them and rows of shelves for focus mitts and a bewildering variety of other pads.

"Bathrooms and changing rooms are at the end of this hallway. The door at the back of each dojo leads there."

Komatori and his students waited patiently through all this. Which wasn't easy that display was heavy. As soon as Sternway paused, I asked Hideo where the chops would be kept.

A nod of his head indicated the stairs.

"You will see, Brew-son." Apparently that was as close as he could come to calling me Brew.

Starting upward, Sternway continued his practiced spiel. While he talked, he rubbed absently at his left forearm.

"The second floor has a large room that can be used for lectures or meetings, or for screening videos. There are also two apartments for masters or students who wish to live here. Na-kahatchi sensei and Komatori-sem both do."

"What about the other masters?" I meant Gravel, Hong, and Soon.

"Master Soon and Sifu Hong live in their dojos. Soke Gravel has his own home, so two of his senior students use his apartments."