"But that's not . . ."

"Was not MacKenzie to replace Jaime when his father stepped down? I've heard nothing else since the day I took my bondsman's band. It is only logical that you will now be Jaime's successor as leader of the Dragoons."

"But I ..."

"I know, my friend. I understand." Elson laid his hand on Alpin's shoulder. The boy was trembling. "You are not yet ready for such responsibility, having been hidden for so long in the shadow of your father. But you will succeed; I have confidence in you. You will choose good men to aid you, men who understand what you have suffered at the hands of a jealous father. What honest man would not support your claim?"

Elson watched the slackness of Alpin's stunned expression stiffen into a grimace of calculation.

"You will help me?"

"I see no other course." Elson tightened his grip on Alpin's shoulder. "Have you not felt that it is your destiny to command the Dragoons?"

"Yes," Alpin said softly. "You know, I always thought it was."

He seemed to look inward for a second. "They knew it, too. My father and grandfather, I mean. I can see it now. They always made my tests harder so I wouldn't score well. It must have been to prevent jealousy among the others. Yes, that's what the old Wolf would do. He set it up to fool them all so they wouldn't hate me."

"No one hates you, Alpin." You are far too weak to deserve hate."But they don't like me."

"It is a commander's lot to be disliked. Most of the emotion comes from jealousy."

"Yes, you're right," Alpin said. "It's because they're jealous."

"They will be more jealous when you take Jaime's place."

Alpin looked up with a worried expression. "You won't be jealous of me, Elson, will you?"

"I have no reason to be, my friend," Elson said with an honest smile.

"Then you will help me, quiaff?You will watch my back when I am in charge. I will need loyal men like you, men who know the right of things."

"You will have my help, but you will need more."

"Just hearing you say that makes me excited and worried at the same time. I'm—excuse me— I amglad that I can count on you, but you are right. I will need more help. There are too many Dragoons who believe the results of those rigged tests. The old Wolf's plan has backfired. His old men think I am not fit to be a commander."

"They will not always be around. Among the Clans, such old men would have been retired long ago, letting the next generation keep the blood of the leadership fresh and forward-looking. It is the way of life, one generation yielding to the next, the better generation. Your own grandfather encourages the old ones in their selfish thinking by clinging to his own command."

Alpin nodded vigorously. "It isa bad example."

"As you say."

"But what can I do about it?" Elson wrapped his arm around Alpin's slender shoulders. "Come," he said. "I have a few ideas."

29

Michi Noketsuna had not expected to live. He had thought that his decision to face the Coordinator was fatal, whether he fulfilled his vendetta or not. Then Indrahar and the ISF had intervened and, in electing to attack the ISF Director, Michi believed he had chosen a path to certain death. To awaken in the care of a member of the Physicians of the Dragon Brotherhood was a bizarre twist of fate, a peculiar reward for his chosen course.

Truly, his karmawas strange.

The fact of his survival was a puzzle that he pondered as he drifted in and out of sleep. Once, he thought he heard a doctor whispering to another that Takashi was dead and that Michi had saved him from an assassin. How could both be true? His own recollections were muddled, his constant drowsiness only obscuring things further. Perhaps with time, the mist would lift from his mind.

He slept.

When he was aware again, he considered what he had heard the doctors say. If Takashi was dead, what more reason had Michi to live? The vendetta that had driven him was complete. Takashi was dead. That, he thought with sudden certainty, was true.

But the Coordinator had not died at Michi's hand or in atonement for wrongs done to Minobu-sensei, which left Michi a failure. The tubes and machines the Brotherhood were using to sustain his existence made a mockery of him. His life was over. Why work to sustain a body when the reason for life is gone? His consciousness faded, but he remained tied to his body.

There was no release for him.

Karma.

He woke again.

The room was full of light, far brighter than artificial illumination could make it. It was day. Someone had opened the drapes to let in the sun. And someone was still in the room, standing by the bed.

That person was not wearing the bright yellow of a Brotherhood physician. Though Michi was sure that he knew the man, the tall visitor's face refused to resolve into recognizable features. It was not until the visitor spoke that Michi saw that it was Theodore Kurita, the man who had chained Michi with the bonds of duty, who had demanded, rightfully, that Michi put service to the Combine before any personal desires.

Theodore nodded gravely when he saw that Michi's eyes had focused on him and said, "My father told me of your decision in the dojo."

Michi wanted to tell Theodore to go away and leave him to his search for hell, but his voice would not work. Theodore ignored the feeble sounds.

"He asked me to give you a command again, as a reward for your loyalty to the Combine. The health of the realm was much on his mind. He said that you would make a good warlord. Anywhere but Dieron, he said."

An attempt at a head shake was thwarted by rebellious muscles. Michi's head simply rolled onto its side.

"I think Dieron would be the ideal place," Theodore said.

"No," Michi croaked, finding his voice at last. "Not Dieron. Not anywhere. I never was a politician, just a soldier. Now, I am not even that. There is no place for me in your army."

"You are tired and injured; do not decide hastily. I know what you did, and I remember how we met. You told me then that duty was the most important part of a samurai's life and that the duty to the Combine was the greatest burden a man could bear. That duty never goes away, Michi -kun. The Combine stills needs you, now more than ever. When you are ready, there is a place for you in the Ryuken. The command of Ryuken- ni,if you want it."

"Fraser commands."

"So you remember him? He would be pleased to hear it. Yes, he commands, but I have more need of him elsewhere. The Ryuken will need a commander, and I think you are the best man for the job."

"The Ryuken are the past. It is dead, as I should be."

"You are mistaken." Theodore walked to the window. The late afternoon sun cast his shadow across the bed and spared Michi's eyes from the glare. Staring out the window, Theodore said, "You saved my father's life by preempting those others. It gave him ... a new perspective. He believed he had found an honorable death."

Michi frowned. "I thought I heard a doctor say that he died in his sleep. A weak heart."

Theodore's voice was almost inaudible. "The doctors say what they must say."

"A warrior's death? I remember fighting."

"No. He survived those others. He used your sword to hold them off long enough for the Otomo to arrive. Afterward, he told me what you had said about a samurai's choice. I think that your example is what turned his mind. In the end, he freely chose what others tried to force on him. He thought it wisdom."