He'd tried to escape, a couple of times in fact. The first time they'd beaten him senseless with rifle butts, but the commander had told them to let him live. He was intrigued by the Heavy at this point. The second attempt resulted in the death of nearly a dozen of the camp guards and he'd gone down fully expecting to get his head chopped off, but instead he'd woken up chained back in the hole, the commander sitting on a stool across from him.
Madi could remember it like it was yesterday.
The man studied him for a long time before speaking. The commander spoke English, even if he was damn near impossible to understand the way he tried to shout half the words. "Why you still alive, Heavy? Why you not dead while everybody else dead?"
Madi didn't need to think about that for very long. "Because I was stronger."
The commander had nodded real slow, like that was the wisest thing he'd ever heard, then he had passed Madi a dirty envelope. "My men capture this." Inside was a typed letter on AEF stationery and he even recognized his old captain's signature. The letter was real matter-of-fact, about how Sergeant Matthew D. Sullivan was AWOL and a no good deserter and a coward. That had really left him steamed, since the only reason he was in this Jap prison was because his old captain had been yellow and run at the first sign of an advance. He'd been the one who'd left Madi at his post to be overrun. Madi had survived the Second fucking Somme. What did Captain Cocksucker know about cowardice?
"You read this?" Madi asked, disgusted. The Jap nodded. "Liars. I've never run from nothing in my life."
"Your people dishonor you."
"Ain't the first time. Got my brother killed in France. Tore half my face off and they didn't even bother to fix it all the way…" The women told him he was good-looking before the war, but now, it didn't matter what they said to his torn-up face. He saw their disgust with his good eye. "What did I get? Nothing," he'd spat. Jake had been the one who'd gotten all the fancy medals and the recognition and the praise after the war but his little brother had never cared about that kind of thing. He sure had, but all he'd ever wanted was some respect, but they hadn't given him shit. "Then when I get captured ''cause of some yellow officer they blame it on me." He threw the letter on the ground, planning on using it to wipe his ass later.
"You are great warrior," the commander stated. "My men told stories of how hard to catch you it was in the forest. How you killed many men. You put fear in their hearts. It is hard to make Imperium man fear. You strong. Strongest should be most respect."
"Hell with 'em," Madi agreed, really studying the commander for the first time. He was tall for a Jap, otherwise nothing special to look at, but he emanated a quiet confidence. Madi could tell he was some sort of Active by the way he carried himself.
"Yes. You think you strongest? Prove it. Make pact. We fight. You beat me, you free go."
He'd had a good laugh. "No shit?"
"Shit not. I am Rokusaburo of Iron Guard. You beat me, you free. I beat you, you serve me."
He figured that the Jap would last even less time than the bear in the blood-soaked little field they'd made him fight all those Russians in, and the next morning they'd led him out there. The whole Jap battalion had shown up and was standing in a big circle, watching, excited. They had bayonets mounted and he was no sucker. When he won over the crazy little man, they were sure as hell gonna stick those long bayonets in him, no matter what, but maybe he'd get to squish a Nip officer in the process. Rokusaburo had been waiting in the middle, shirtless, his body covered with strange intricate scars. He bowed.
The little man destroyed him.
Afterward, when he'd regained consciousness, Rokusaburo had come to him again. "What were all those burns on you?"
"Kanji, to grant me more Power. Iron Guard unbeatable. Iron Guard strongest of all."
"Then I want to be an Iron Guard," Madi told him.
To his credit, Rokusaburo didn't laugh. He'd only given him that same slow nod, and Madi's education had begun.
Back in the present, Madi's nose itched, but he decided not to scratch it. It was probably from that damn incense that was stinking up the ship's cabin. He might be lousy at meditation because he couldn't stop thinking, but he could control his body. What had gotten him thinking? Oh, yeah, that asshole, old master Shiroyuki.
Rokusaburo had gotten him into the Academy. Madi had forsaken his country, his old ways, and sworn allegiance to the Imperium, but he'd felt no loss. He felt no loyalty. All his homeland had ever given him was pain and betrayal. They'd used him, hurt him, killed the only decent folks he knew, then called him yellow and left him to rot. The Imperium at least appreciated strength.
Shiroyuki had been hard on him. The old bastard had taught him and tried to have the other students kill him. He was always extra hard on the big white one. While the Chairman preached that he didn't care where an Active was born, Shiroyuki was old school, real proud that he came from the same ancient samurai family as the Chairman himself, and hated the round eyes. He'd tried to break Madi every step of the way.
The fact that Madi never quit and was strong enough to just keep accepting kanji infuriated Shiroyuki. To bind with a new mark you had to go right up to death's door, and each one you got, the harder it was to come back. The other students began to respect him at five, and then fear him at eight. The Chairman took a personal interest in Madi's education, realizing how valuable it would be to have an operative able to move seamlessly in America. Plus, he was a sort of vindication of the Chairman's beliefs, of his vision for a perfect world, ruled by the strong and the wise. The Chairman had taken him under his wing, showing him the dark secrets, the truth of the Power. Madi did not just follow. He believed.
Then old man Shiroyuki had dared to publicly disagree with the Chairman, saying that only the superior Nipponese should be Iron Guard. The Chairman had replied with his usual wisdom that the Power lived inside their bodies where all blood and bone was the same color. Shiroyuki had been chastened, dishonored, and when he was no longer in favor, Madi struck. He'd waited until he had received his tenth kanji before challenging the old master to a trial by combat. He had been honor bound to accept.
He'd ripped Shiroyuki apart like he'd been one of the Russian prisoners in Rokusaburo's camp. The memory of the old man's arms coming off in twin fountains of blood and the samurai screaming through that ridiculous mustache made him grin. He opened his eyes. "Hell with it." The Chairman was a big fan of meditation, but reaching inner peace wasn't exactly his thing. The Chairman taught that with proper clarity you could actually converse with the Power. Madi didn't know about that, but if the Chairman said that's how it was, then that's how it was. Unlike the people he'd sworn allegiance to before, the Chairman never lied.
There was movement in his bunk. Toshiko was awake, watching him. She'd pulled the sheet up to cover herself, feigning modesty. The Shadow Guard was such a tease, but damn if her academy hadn't taught her in all the arts of espionage. He could barely feel anything anymore, but he had felt that. He realized she'd been counting his scars. "How many kanji have you taken?"
"Thirteen." He rose, retrieved his shirt and threw it on. He still ached from all the wounds the Grimmys had inflicted on him, but that Healer bitch had done as she'd been told and fixed him up, and he'd only had to smack her in the face a few times to get his point across. "More than any other man in the world."
She either really was impressed or she faked it good, he never could tell with a Shadow Guard. They were such trained chameleons that you never could tell where the real person began and the act ended. They were spies and assassins that could be whatever you wanted them to be. "Even more than the Chairman?"