"And I'm sure Mr. Komatori can show me the fire exits. You must be a busy man, Anson. There's no need for you to hang around."

This time I saw contempt clearly in his eyes.

"Mr. Lacone pays for my time. When you're finished here, I'll take you around to the other schools." He tried to sound helpful, but he couldn't carry it off.

"You aren't known here. An introduction from me may make your job easier."

He meant that it might lend me a bit of credibility which I was prepared to do without. On the other hand, his company would enable me to ask other questions.

"Thanks," I murmured with no appreciable sincerity.

"That'll be fine."

So Komatori showed us the fire exits. He dismissed his carters, then took Sternway and me back to the head of the stairs from the first floor. There he opened a door in the wall under the upward staircase.

I'd taken it for the door of a utility closet when we'd passed it earlier it had no lock but it let us into a short corridor running toward the center of the building.

The corridor ended at an iron fire door with a big red EXIT sign over it and a bar-latch instead of a knob. As soon as I saw it, I understood the keys. It was a self-locking door. Push the bar on this side and it opened. From the other side you needed a key to get in.

"The latch is wired to an alarm," Sternway explained, "as well as to the fire department. But it isn't active while the dojos are in use.

At night each school sets its own alarm once the students have left."

Well, they were supposed to, anyway. Whether they actually did it or not was another matter.

Komatori opened the door and bowed us through.

Beyond the door I found myself on a railed metal catwalk bolted to the unpainted cinderblock wall of a large utility well. The well was a square hole roughly twenty feet on a side that reached from the ground floor of the building to its roof. Conduits and ducts of various sizes growing out of a cluster of boilers, furnaces, air-conditioning units, emergency generators, water mains, and circuit-breaker boxes below me stretched to the ceiling, where the vents continued through a grillwork sky-lieht coverine the shaft. At the moment most of the illumination came from the skylight, but permanent flood lamps in all four walls kept the catwalks constantly lit.

After the relative comfort inside, the utility well felt like a sauna.

All that machinery put out enough heat to incubate virus strains, and through the skylight the sun baked the cinder-block walls. Without transition my skin started to ooze sweat. If I had to stay in here long I'd have fungi growing under my arms.

The catwalk made a circuit of the entire shaft, connecting fire doors in each of the walls. An identical catwalk and doors hung overhead, accessed from the third floor. Diagonally across from me on both sides, ladders surrounded by safety cages provided a way upward as well as down to ground level.

Komatori let the fire door swing shut behind him. It hit its frame with a solid thunk like the sound of a marble slab dropping into place over a tomb. The catwalk shook slightly, complaining at its bolts.

Stubbornly officious, Sternway called my attention to the keyhole in the door.

"Each school can use its fire exits at will, but they can't be opened from this side without the appropriate key. This provides security as well as privacy."

Well, duh, I thought. Hit me over the head with it, why don't you.

"I take it," I drawled, "you don't trust the schools to respect each other's privacy."

Komatori looked faintly shocked, but I wasn't talking to him.

Sternway considered me expressionlessly for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he said, "Komatori-sem, thank you for your assistance. I'll show Mr. Axbrewder the rest of the fire escape route. Then we'll visit the other schools.

"Please tell Nakahatchi sensei that I honor his willingness to share the chops. I'll give him any assistance he may need. Also I'm sure Mr. Axbrewder will have some useful suggestions for the display's safety."

HRH didn't want anyone else to hear what he was about to say.

Plainly dismissed, Komatori gave a respectful bow. Sternway replied in kind, and Komatori fished out his key to let himself back into Essential Shotokan. The thud as the door closed raised an empty echo from the walls. The noise gave me the odd impression that I'd gotten myself into more trouble than I could handle.

With my palm, I wiped a sheet of sweat off my forehead.

"That was subtle," I remarked.

Sternway snorted.

"As subtle as your question, Axbrewder."

I'd succeeded in exasperating him at last.

I replied with a grin like a grimace.

"But in my case it's part of my job. I'm supposed to ask tactless questions, insult people, piss them off. Kick over the anthill and watch what squirms out." Feeling malicious he had that effect on me I added, "You'd be amazed at what I've already learned."

He studied me from under lowered eyelids. Suddenly I felt that I was in danger. His usual ominous relaxation seemed to concentrate strain for release like compressed napalm, hungry to erupt in fire. His tension only lasted for a moment, however. He'd changed his mind about something. Or simply lost interest.

"I doubt it." His disdain was unmistakable.

I didn't realize that I'd been holding my breath until I tried to tell him he hadn't answered my question. Under my jacket, my shirt stuck to my back.

Fortunately he repeated it for me.

"Do I trust these schools to respect each other's privacy? Of course.

But I don't trust them to respect each other."

Trying to be unobtrusive about it, I let the air out of my lungs and took another deep breath.

"Historically," he explained, "martial arts schools attract students and grow by demonstrating their superiority over other schools. In China particularly, that tradition goes back centuries. Often masters would travel great distances to test their skills against other masters with stronger reputations. Battles between schools were not uncommon."

Which went a long way toward explaining tournaments.

"My concern for Martial America is that proximity will make the schools jealous of each other. It will bring out their competitiveness, as well as threatening their secrets. If they try to resolve their differences by fighting, people might be hurt or possibly killed."

I finally started breathing normally again. Sternway seemed to become less and less dangerous as he spoke.

"And the more schools Martial America draws," he added, "the worse the danger will become. Especially if they're as aggressive as. say.

Killer Karate.

"Then, of course" he allowed himself a sigh "the problem is exacerbated by the fact that Nakahatchi sensei owns a set of possibly genuine antique Wing Chun chops.

"This distresses Sifu Hong and his entire school, for obvious reasons.

But it also disturbs Master Soon. It draws attention away from his Tae Kwon Do Academy." Sternway attempted a humorless smile.

"You might say that Nakahatchi sensei has up-staged him. He's indignant about it."

He paused briefly, then said, "That presents a problem for me as well as for Martial America. The IAMA exists, among other reasons, to promote a sense of mutual cooperation, understanding, and support among all the martial arts. And Martial America in particular has the potential to foster a sense of community which can only benefit the martial arts."