Tearing The Shroud (28 page)

‘Aren’t you afraid someone will find that?’ Jule asked.

He turned on a light and said, ‘No one ever has, but I have good insurance, just in case. Mind your step.’

Vinni descended with Jule, Knife, and Flea following. At the bottom was a plain metal door that Mr Brown unlocked with his ring of keys. He pushed it open and flipped another light switch, stepping into a long rectangular room with doors spaced along the sides.

‘Hey, Vinni,’ Flea said, ‘why don’t you just use a gun?’

Vinni glanced at each of them. ‘I...well...’

They looked at him with varying stages of disbelief. ‘You haven’t explained guns to him, Vincent?’ Flea asked.

Vincent raised his hands. ‘There hasn’t been time.’

‘Or perhaps it didn’t occur to you.’ Mr Brown said.

He nodded.

Sorry, I should have told you about them sooner.

Let me show you.

Vincent pictured a .45 pistol, a military rifle, and a snub-nosed revolver. He imagined loading the ammunition for the revolver and firing it at a target; then he played a scene from a movie where a shot to the head splattered someone’s brains on the wall.

‘...nni.’

‘Vin...?’

Voices echoed in the darkness.

His eyes fluttered open, and the roar of a waterfall filled his ears. He saw a wooden ceiling. A woman with yellow-green eyes floated into view. He smiled at her.

‘Cole...?’

Everything went dark.

‘Hey bu...’

‘...water...’

‘...e ok...?’

‘...smil...’

He saw florescent lights on the cement ceiling then Knife and Jule’s face. Coolness draped across his forehead, and he tried to sit up, but Knife held him down. ‘Not so fast there, Slick.’

‘Shhhh, lay still, Vinni,’ Jule said softly.

‘What happened?’

Knife was taking his pulse, so Flea answered. ‘Well, you were standing there, glassy-eyed, like you do when you talk to Coleman. Then, you just collapsed, out like a light.’

Mr Brown’s head came into view upside down. ‘I take it Coleman is the Traveler?’

Vinni nodded.

‘Do you know what occurred?’

‘I showed him some guns. I guess it was information overload.’

‘Or he’s squeamish,’ Flea said.

< Vincent,> Coleman asked.

I don’t know. I’ve never been up against one.
Coleman’s fear and frustration compounded Vincent’s.

And plan well.

‘Let’s sit him up,’ Knife said. As they did, Jule went back to the sink, returning with a glass of water, which he took with a sigh.

He smiled and handed the glass back. ‘Thanks, Jule. I...I...’

‘Are you okay?’ Jule asked.

‘I saw Jolie!’ he said, wide-eyed.

‘You remembered her?’ Knife asked.

‘No, it wasn’t a memory; for a few seconds we were in Coleman’s body, across the Shroud.’

‘But how?’ Flea asked.

‘I have no idea.’

Mr Brown clamped his pipe between his teeth, and after a long moment said, ‘I can’t recall any mention of this, but I’ll research it. Perhaps the...’ Mr Brown waved his hand.

‘Joining,’ Vinni provided.

‘Yes. Perhaps it moves both ways?’ Mr Brown shook his head. ‘There are more possibilities than we can account for, I’m sure. By the way, may I keep a journal of this, so this will be preserved for future generations?’

Vinni shrugged. ‘Sure, it’s a good idea.’

‘Thank you, Vinni.’

‘Do you want to try standing?’ Jule asked

‘Yeah, I feel fine. A little stupid, but other than that, I’m okay.’ He stood and glanced at their concerned faces. ‘Really. I’m good to go. But, so you guys know — I’ve never even held a gun and obviously Coleman doesn’t use them, so we better stick to blades.’

‘Then let’s proceed,’ Mr Brown said. ‘This one, I believe,’ he walked to a set of double doors on the far left side. The keys rattled again and when he opened them, even Coleman was impressed. A wide array of short swords hung on the doors and sat on shelves inside the compartment, each labeled and gleaming. The collection of Roman
gladius
, Greek
hoplite
and
kopis
, Indian
charas
, medieval
baselards
,
katzbalgers
,
degen
and
wakizashi
would have been the envy of any museum.

‘You may choose as you wish, but I believe these will be suitable.’ He lifted a pair of
wakizashi
from a stand near the center. They had worn black and gold handles, and the enameled scabbards were flat black. ‘These are a matched set, made by Kunisuke-san for a short-blade practitioner in the Edo period, the early 17th century. They were his masterpiece.’

Vinni looked at the offered weapons. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Then his recent words came to mind: ‘We’re all here for some reason.’ He shook his head and grinned.

What do you think?

‘Just one for now please,’ Vinni said. ‘The grip is rough.’

‘It’s shark’s skin.’

‘Clever.’ Vinni nodded.

‘That’s the right-side blade; it requires a quarter turn to the right to unsheathe.’

Vinni pulled the
wakizashi
from the scabbard. The blade arced gently and looked strong. The back was thick, meant to stop even the hardest blow. A gently undulating pattern along the blade’s surface formed the
hamon
, and glittering metal granules floated in its cloud-like mist. The tip was large and came to a stout point. Holding it, Vinni could sense the intent of the smith and the spirits of those who wielded it through the ages. The magnificent weapon felt solid, yet perfectly balanced and light.

‘This is simply amazing.’ Vinni looked at them.

Mr Brown smiled. ‘Then you will be doubly amazed by this.’ He held the other blade toward Vinni, grip first. ‘The left blade requires a left turn.’

He nodded. The second weapon was the precisely matched twin of the first. Vinni closed his eyes, settling them into his palms. There was no discernible difference. He held the blade up and saw what distinguished it from its sibling. The
hamon
of this one resembled silver flames, with the glittering metal flecks refracting in them, making them appear alive.

‘I’ve never seen finer weapons. May I move with them a bit?’ His lilting voice brought a raised eyebrow from Mr Brown.

‘Of course.’

‘Vincent, do you think that’s safe?’ Jule’s brows knitted.

‘Yeah, you might take off an ear or something.’ Flea said.

‘I’ll try to be careful, but you guys might want to back up.’

‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ Knife said as he hurried to the far side of the room. After Jule, Flea and Mr Brown joined Knife, Vinni started working through various positions, slowly growing accustomed to the weapons.
Strong Wall
becomes
Fisherman Casting
becomes
Upward Rending
then
Reaping Scythe
and
Striking Snake.
One flowed to the next as his pace increased. The blades flowed around him, finding imaginary targets. He came to a stop, lowered the blades, and looked at the little group. Jule was clapping and hopping, her face gleaming. Flea stood with his mouth open in a perfect O.

‘Where did you come up with that?’ Knife asked.

‘They’re martial arts forms.’

Mr Brown said, ‘It seems they’re a good fit.’

‘They are,’ Vinni said.

‘Would you care to try them on a target?’

‘Sure.’ Vinni smiled.

‘Just a moment.’ Mr Brown opened a door nearby and stepped inside; a light flicked on, and a few moments later he returned carrying a short tubular stand and several rolled mats.

Those look like beach mats,
Vincent told him.

Yeah, you lie on them in the sun.

Vincent sniffed back a laugh as Coleman’s feelings bubbled in him.

Mr Brown set the stand in the middle of the room, slipping one of the rolls over the short tube. ‘This can be knocked over by a poor strike, but a proper blow will slice through the mat without doing so.’

Flea told Mr Brown in a stage whisper, ‘We’ve never seen Vinni do something.’

Vinni smiled and shook his head.

I knew you would. What’s our plan here?

I like it.

Vinni breathed deeply, envisioning the process, and the room faded — all that existed was the target. He stepped smoothly into motion, spinning as he came, the blades blurred in his hands. The first piece flipped into the air and to Vinni’s increased perception, there was enough time to slice through the thick roll again. He no longer thought about the blades — only the mat that seemed to divide itself before him. He blinked and only a short stub remained.

Vinni turned to the group, but none of them responded; then he saw Jule’s eyes creep to a close, and he realized
his
time was not
their
time, so he walked to the wall and leaned against it, waiting until they caught up.

‘What happened?’ Flea shouted.

‘Where’d the mat go?’ Jule asked, wide-eyed.

Vinni pointed to the debris. ‘There.’

His three friends rushed to him, while Mr Brown strolled over.

Knife slapped him on the back. ‘You circled the mat — ’

‘I did?’

‘Yeah, but then it all became a blur.’

‘I could see you but couldn’t keep up with what happened.’ Jule shook her head.

Flea raised his hands, speechless.

Mr Brown offered the scabbards and Vinni slid the blades home, handing the left one to Mr Brown. ‘Vinni, thank you for showing me something I’ve
never
seen, and I’ve seen quite a lot.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Something new. I didn’t think it was possible.’

‘How did you
do
that?’ Flea said.

Vinni smiled and patted his shoulder. ‘I just tried to cut it as many times as I could.’ He shrugged.

Flea gathered the sections. ‘Fourteen pieces in a couple of seconds.’

‘You’ll need means of carrying them,’ Mr Brown said. ‘I have several options.’ He gestured across the room.

As they walked, Flea pointed to the remaining piece of mat Vinni passed. ‘You left some.’

Vinni unsheathed the blade, and it streaked out. The stub sat unchanged.

Knife grinned. ‘You missed.’

He glanced at the stub then back at his friends and squatted, shaking his head. He looked up with a smile. ‘This makes fifteen pieces my friends,’ he said as he flicked his finger against the mat.

It didn’t move.

He’d missed.

Flea slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Ya can’t get ’em all.’

His friends chuckled while he stood with a grin, shaking his head. He’d been sure he hit it.

‘There’s a lesson, Vinni.’ Mr Brown wielded his pipe in slashing motions. ‘We’re never so good that we can’t get better.’

Jule patted his arm and smiled up at him. Her eyes held a familiar twinkle. ‘That’s okay. It keeps you humble.’

‘Besides,’ Knife said, ‘that stub was moving
really
fast.’

True to his word, Mr Brown had a variety of harnesses, clips, and belts for the swords; constructed of everything from supple leather to high-tech webbing. None of them allowed him to conceal the weapons, and most would inhibit Vincent’s acrobatic abilities. They finally settled on a simple black leather belt with two garter-like straps. The scabbard attached in two places on the straps, one a few inches below the belt, and another at the bottom. The lower one attached around his leg, making the whole apparatus resemble a western gunslinger. This held the blades securely against his thighs, with the grips ending just above the belt line.

‘That doesn’t stand out too much, especially if you wear dark, loose clothing,’ Knife said.

Jule knelt beside him, attaching the lower straps. ‘How about black military cargo pants? You could add a long coat to it,’ she said.

‘Do you still have that long trench coat you used in the play last year — what was the name of it?’ Knife asked Flea.

‘
All Quiet on the Western Front
. I do, but it’s just a thin cotton stage version.’

‘That’s even better. Real ones are too warm for this climate,’ Jule said, tightening the right strap. ‘Will this allow you to move properly?’

‘I think so,’ Vinni said. ‘Mr Brown, is there any way these blades can slip out?’

‘No, they require a distinct turn, and are very secure. Let me demonstrate.’ Vinni unsheathed the left
wakizashi
and handed it to him hilt first. ‘Look here.’ He indicated a small indentation on the back of the blade near the round guard. ‘Kunisuke-san designed the sheaths as well, and this little impression seats under a ridge in the scabbard. A turn locks it firmly in place.’

‘Ingenious,’ Knife said as he looked on.

‘Let’s try it then. All tight, Jule?’ Vinni asked.

She smiled. ‘You’re good to go.’

‘Thanks.’

He started with basic kicks, progressing to high kicks and jumping moves.
Hang on, Coleman.
Bolting forward a few steps, he dove, flipping forward in midair, landing on his feet and immediately reversing direction in a series of back handsprings. The swords remained intact.