7th Sigma (11 page)

Bentham looked at him with dead eyes. “Pardon, Mr. Monroe? What on earth are you talking about?”

Kimble exhaled. “Nothing, Captain. Nothing at all.”

*   *   *

“GOOD
trip?” asked Ruth. She'd used the rescue inhaler first and her breathing had eased and her color was improving. “You made it without any difficulties?”

“Yes, Sensei.”

7

Tatami, Vigas, and Skinny-dipping

Fatigue is a symptom of asthma, one that often shows up before one feels the constricted breathing in the chest. A week after Ruth began taking the oral corticosteroids she had more energy than she had had in months.

As a result, Kimble was
exhausted
.

“Sensei, don't you think you should get some rest?”

“Shut up and keep weaving.”

They were making
gozo
mats, the top layer for straw-core tatami. The layout of the dojo called for forty of them and they'd only completed one full tatami that Ruth had been satisfied with. When Kimble wasn't weaving the
gozo
or bundling wheat straw shafts for the tatami core, he was hauling Ruth's old travois up and down the bosque, cutting dried reeds for more mats, or running off to get straw from the local wheat and oat farmers.

They'd also taken delivery of the promised roofing tiles and had one third of the roof up, but were waiting for more
latillas
(lattice sticks that crossed over the
vigas
, the beams), before they could continue that backbreaking chore. But in the meanwhile, Ruth felt well enough to add an additional class every morning before the heat of the day took hold.

I should've let Captain Bentham take me back to Colorado. Bet I could've slept to a decent hour there.

In desperation he went to Marisol, the TMS nurse. “She's really overdoing it. I'm concerned for her health.”

“I talked to her yesterday,” Marisol said. “She looked good to me. Her lung function is really improved.” She reached out and turned Kimble's head from one side to the other, looking in particular at his eyes. “You getting enough sleep?”

He pulled away. “
I'm
okay. It's her I'm worried about,” said Kimble.

The nurse cleared her throat. “Ah. I see. Well, perhaps you're right. I'll speak to her.”

The next day Ruth declared that she would take an afternoon nap.

“And what do you want me to do while you're asleep, Sensei?”

She looked at him and said, “Hmmm. There's the
latillas
for the dojo roof, the reeds for the tatami, the garden needs weeding, the compost pile needs turning, but what I really think the most important thing is … you should nap.”

Two days later, returning from the bosque with more reeds, he overheard Ruth talking to Marisol by the spring. “You were right. I didn't have kids, myself, and it's been so long since I was a teenager.”

“He's a good kid,” said Marisol.

“He is.”

Kimble blushed and crept back down the path. When he returned he let the bundled reeds rustle against the mesquite branches and dropped them noisily by the dojo walls.

The next time they went to town, Martha Mendez, the storekeeper/county clerk/postmaster had a letter for Ruth.

She sat down on the bench outside the store to read it.

Kimble could tell at a glance that it was from outside, laser-printed text on lightweight paper.

When Ruth was done reading it, she went back inside and penned a short response, paying for heliograph transmission. Perro Frio didn't have a heliograph tower but there was one ten miles north. The regular mail rider would drop it on his way and it would be transmitted from tower to tower to the edge of the territory, then e-mailed.

On their way back home Ruth said, “We will have a visitor sometime next week. She will stay for several days. You'll sleep in the
deshi
quarters, all right?” There was a set of student rooms on one side of the dojo. The one on the end was to be his and it was already roofed.

“Of course, Sensei. Might as well get moved in.” He was intensely curious about the visitor. Ruth said very little about her life before the territory.

“Who is coming?” he asked.

“Karen. My oldest student.”

*   *   *

WHEN
Karen came, she rode with a guide, three pack mules, and her own student, whose name, for all Kimble could see, might have been “trouble.”

Kimble liked Karen at first sight. She was not as old as Ruth, but she had white streaks in her red hair and, like Ruth, the muscles in her arms were well defined. When Karen swung down off her horse she bowed immediately, but Ruth took two steps and pulled her into her arms. When they stepped apart, tears were running down both their faces.

Kimble stepped in and took the reins of Karen's horse, face averted. He'd never seen Ruth cry before.

“Here,” said the other young woman, thrusting her reins at Kimble. He took them and bowed politely. She walked forward and bowed to Ruth without even looking at him.

Kimble shrugged and watched her walk. She was wearing tight pants and he'd reached an age where watching the opposite sex fascinated him. Her hair was blond but the roots were dark and she smelled of exotic deodorants and soaps.

Karen introduced the young woman to Ruth. “This is my student, Athena.”

“Welcome. Are all these horses yours, Karen?”

Karen gestured to a weathered man still on horseback. “Mr. Clemments is our guide—he brought us from Colorado. The horses are his. He's going to return in six days, if that works for you, Sensei.”

“Unless you can stay longer, it works just fine.”

“No, our flights out of Denver are set.”

Mr. Clemments took the panniers off two of the pack mules. “I've kin near Isleta,” he said. “I'll be back on Saturday.” He loosened the girths on the two saddle horses and changed their bridles for halters before leading all the animals off.

“We brought extra provisions. I didn't decide to bring Athena until after I'd written.”

“Not to worry. This is Kimble.”

He bowed. Karen bowed back, though Athena only nodded.

“Give us a second to organize ourselves, all right?” She gestured to Kimble and stepped off to the side. Quietly she asked, “Would it be all right if we gave Athena your room? If I'd known, we could've finished another of the
deshi
rooms.”

“Sure, Sensei. I can have my clothes out in a few minutes. The bedding was just changed.”

Later he showed Athena the room, carrying her bags for her. She prodded the thin rolled-up futon and said, “It's better than the camping we did on the way here. Where's the bathroom? I could use a shower.”

He showed her the composting toilet at the end of the hall. “Sorry the roof isn't up yet.” He pointed at the two clay containers beside the seat. “You put sawdust in every time you go. If you defecate, add straw, too.”

She wrinkled her nose up. “Don't you guys have flush toilets?”

“Seen 'em. Terrible waste of water.”

“And the shower?”

“This time of year, we use water from the pond. When it gets cold, we heat water on the stove.” He decided not to tell her about Sensei's plans for a solar-heated hot tub. “I'll be sleeping in the dojo proper if you need anything.”

“What does that mean?” she said. “Why should I need anything?” She glared at him. “And why are you sleeping here? Why aren't you in your own room?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Let's just say that's not convenient right now.”

He went back to the cottage to see if Ruth needed anything. She was sitting with Karen on the bench built into the wall and Karen was holding a long flat wooden box that Kimble recognized from the pack mules.

“So you were able to do it?”

“Yes, Sensei. They're still light but by increasing the density of the reinforcing fibers, we were able to come close. I did a test cutting with bundled straw and another with green bamboo. Very satisfactory.”

“Let's see, then.”

She slid the lid off and removed a sheet of packing foam. Beneath were three swords,
katana
, in black lacquered scabbards, and several extra blades. The blades were milky white.

“Why so many blades?” asked Ruth.

“I'm pleased with how strong they are. If you're really cutting properly, they'll slice through bone. But they're still not folded steel. I deliberately chopped at some bamboo—not slicing—and the blade snapped off near the hilt.”

Ruth held the sword out, both hands on the hilt. “I've missed
iaido
. I thought I'd miss movies or the 'net or driving, but those haven't been a problem. I certainly missed certain
people
,” Ruth said, smiling at Karen. “We've done what we could with
bokken
and
jyo
, but I was surprised how much I missed
iaido
.”

Karen nodded. “I use your sword every week.”

“
Your
sword. Good, it was made to be used, even if it is four hundred years old. It certainly wasn't made to be eaten by bugs out here.”

That night Kimble slept on one of the new tatami in the corner of the dojo. He slept well but more than once he heard Athena tossing and groaning on the much softer futon. She was asleep when he got up at dawn. He could hear her snoring. He tiptoed out and started the morning chores.

The fuel in the kitchen stove had been prepared the night before. He lit it and put the clay water hob on as well as the porridge crock on the stove top. Then he hauled the water to the roof tank, fed and watered the chickens, and let them out of the coop into the garden. They were still too small to lay but they were fully fledged and did a good job on garden pests.

Ruth was up when he stuck his head in to check the porridge. She handed him two cups of tea. “For Athena,” she said, indicating the second cup. “Breakfast thereafter.”

He knocked on the frame of his bedroom. There was no response. “Athena!” he called.

He stuck his head in. She'd put the pillow over her head. He set the tea on the floor and said loudly, “Breakfast in ten minutes.” He saw one of her hands twitch.

“I'm not sure if she's awake or not, Sensei,” he said to Ruth when he came back to the cottage. Karen was sitting at the kitchen table while Ruth sliced bread.

“Did you use explosives?” Karen said. “Then she's not awake. Leave it to me.”

She returned with Athena ten minutes later. Athena was blinking slowly and had a sour expression on her face. Ruth gave her porridge and bread. “More tea?” Athena's hands were empty. “Oh. We don't have that many cups, I'm afraid.”

“I'll get it,” Kimble said. The bedding was strewn across the room and, though empty, the cup was lying on its side. “Hmph,” he said aloud.

He ran the cup back and gave it to Sensei without comment.

They held class in the dojo, on the hard adobe floor that would support the tatami when they were finished. He had changed in one of the roofless rooms and when he entered the practice area Sensei sent him back to put on his
hakama.
They tended to wear the dark blue, split-skirt for weapons classes and in the winter, when it was colder, but for most hot days even Ruth avoided them. But not today.

“Bokken,”
said Ruth, after warm-ups, taking her own oak sword from the rack by the
kamiza
.

They started with
suburi
, repeated cuts, dropping the center, bending the knees as the blade came down. Two hundred strokes along Kimble saw Athena wince, pause, and shift her grip. Shortly thereafter, Ruth stopped and had them do walking cuts, back and forth across the floor.

The floor had been smoothed to approximate flatness but it was rough. Athena stubbed her toes a couple of times, stumbling, flushing red when it happened.

Kimble had done his share of stubbing his toes over the past year when practice might be held on the grass, on the riverbank, or while walking down the road. It taught him to slide his feet cautiously, feeling for irregularities.

They went to partner practice then, cuts to the head with the attacker moving off the line and counterattacking. Ruth demonstrated the technique slowly, clearly, with Kimble as
uke
. She then bowed to Karen and they moved off to one side, to work together, leaving Kimble with Athena.

Athena lowered her sword, presenting her head by leaning forward. Kimble attacked at the same speed Ruth had been using and Athena blocked and struck, but her control wasn't tremendous. She cut down far enough to brain Kimble, but she was far enough off target that it brushed past his ear instead.

She glared at him, as if he'd moved or something, but he didn't even twitch. After three more repetitions, right and left, they switched sides. She attacked at full speed but he just did the technique, blocking as he slid off the line and striking back. His
bokken
stopped two inches from her forehead, dead on target.

Her attack was fast but it was nothing like Ruth's full-speed attacks. They practiced at full speed all the time.

“Should I speed up?” he asked, when it was his turn to attack again.

She said, “Certainly.”

He had to pull his strike. Her block wasn't there in time and she hadn't gotten off the line. Next time he did it slower and she managed the combination, but her eyes narrowed.

“Relax,” Ruth said, from across the room. “Your shoulders are raised—that means you're tightening up. No way you can respond fast enough like that.”

“Yes, Sensei,” said Athena. She blushed.

She never really managed to relax, not working with Kimble. He felt bad for her but he didn't know what to do about it. Ruth took them back to solo exercises a bit later and by the end of class, Athena had stopped blushing.