The Orsinni Contracts

by Bill Cariad

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Yin and Yang

  Rome, Italy, 12th January to 29th April 1985

  ‘Okay Orsinni... confined space scenario... main threat immediately in front and closing....’ With whiplash speed she raised her right knee to the front and centre of her body whilst adjusting her hips and left foot, and snapped out the right leg to strike her visualised target and close the two-hour solo practice session with a controlled Mae Geri. The seriously disabling front kick was stabilised by the well-balanced hips, and powered by her Chi travelling from her lower body and through the kicking leg into her foot. She ended the fast move by returning to her original position, standing perfectly still, looking completely relaxed and harmless, with readjusted hips and a straight back, and the voice of Wan Lai Tang sounding the mantra in her head. ‘The mind leads, the Chi follows the mind, the blood follows the Chi, and the strength follows the blood.’

  ‘Chi,’ the Chinese instructor had told her, ‘is the subtle life-force you must learn to harness at will, if you are to advance your knowledge of both the external and internal arts. But you are still very young, Maria Orsinni, and must first harness patience. Because it will take many years of practice before you fully attain that level of knowledge.’

  Maria stood now mentally reviewing the session. The last move had flowed well she thought, recalling that her body had been moving almost before the conscious mind had confirmed the action to be taken. Strengthening her awareness of the body’s energy channels, and developing the ability to control the invisible energy and power of her Chi through those channels, were current priorities of her new physical and mental training programme.

  Two days remained on the gymnasium’s calendar page before April turned to May, and, in addition to Chi, Maria Orsinni had five men on her mind. A mind filled with conflicting thoughts on a quintet of quite different men who had featured throughout the first one hundred and nine days of her new life. Giovanni Orsinni, her brother Paolo, Claudio Canizzaro, Wan Lai Tang, and Sergio Sabbatini were the men on her mind.

  Maria moved now, shaking loose the tension in her muscles, feeling with her mind for any sensation of lurking injury and was relieved to register nothing untoward. She entered the gym’s shower-room feeling pleased about how the solo practice session had gone.

  Later, cleansed of the session’s sweat and wearing a fresh track-suit, she returned to the dojo mat and sank into the lotus position. She closed her eyes. Within moments, apart from the slow rise and fall of her chest, her body became motionless. But her mind was moving, quietly active, busy weaving its thoughts around the five men in her life.

  Maria’s mind spooled back the memory tape....

  January playback....

  Giovanni Orsinni had again surprised with his reaction to being thanked for the provision of the gymnasium, and of being told that she now knew of the brothers Orsinni.

  “Giving you the gymnasium,” said her father, “gives me pleasure. Giving you to my brother will please your mother, God rest her soul.”

  Upon hearing her father’s words, Maria suppressed conflicting emotions. She was touched by his sentiment but could never really forgive or forget the way he had dishonoured and destroyed her mother. Additionally now, she was angry at his having lied to her about his parents and concealing the existence of a brother. She was also saddened by his refusal to tell Paolo that he had an uncle who had expressed the desire to meet his nephew.

  “He won’t talk to me,” said her father, “You tell him.”

  She heard the pain in the voice which relayed the contact number of a son to whom, for Giovanni Orsinni, all contact was lost.

  “I will talk to you again soon,” she told him, but he disconnected without comment.

  Paolo responded to her telephoned news with sounding indifference.

  “Maybe I will meet him one day,” he said, “But right now I’m concentrating on all this new stuff I’m learning about close protection techniques.”

  Maria listened to her brother expounding at length about his new life in the world of body-guarding the frightened wealthy, until he ran out of things to say about it. “Call me anytime if you need me, little sister, and don’t forget to keep practicing with your knives.”

  Maria re-cradled the phone, but Paolo’s voice was still in her head alongside her thoughts of Yin and Yang. Even her brother’s words of endearment, ‘call me anytime if you need me little sister’, which had expressed the soft energy of Yin, had been blunted by the voiced hard energy of Yang in the words about practicing with knives. Almost their entire conversation had revolved around violence, and she was being made to think about that now....

  In the silence of her gymnasium, the only movement the slow rise and fall of her chest, Maria’s thoughts ran on. ‘Wan Lai Tang had ceased to be just a name on a card given to her by Tanaka. The Chinese man was a martial arts master never imagined in her wildest dreams....’

  February playback....

  In response to her own initial contact call, Maria found herself speaking perfectly understandable English with a female who didn’t sound English and who identified herself as Jasmine, Wan Lai Tang’s daughter. Imparting Tanaka’s name, Maria’s request for a meeting was granted without any hesitation on the part of Jasmine, and directions were given to what was described as an apartment next to a bakery on the Via Della Carozze.

  Maria knew that her destination was one of a network of narrow streets running between the Piazza di Spagna and the Via del Corso, and that it lay within one of the liveliest tourist areas of Rome. She arrived at the given address to discover that the so-called apartment was an impressive looking three-level affair sandwiched between the described bakery and a shoe shop. She was greeted at the door by a small Chinese woman wearing western dress. Maria guessed her to be in her forties, but a broad smile on the unlined face made her look younger.

  “I recognize you,” opened the woman, “You are just as Tanaka described you, Maria, and I am Jasmine. Welcome to our home, come now, my father is waiting.”

  Maria was led inside and through a doorway to what she instantly saw was a dojo. Seated on a mat was a fat old man Jasmine introduced as her father, Wan Lai Tang. Maria hid her surprise whilst her thoughts raced; Tanaka would not have guided her here without reason. She bowed to the man on the mat, but apart from staring at her he did not respond in any way. She withdrew from her bag the gift she had brought him and stepped forward to place the Italian Rosewood bowl before him on the dojo mat. She bowed to him again before stepping back.

  “Why should I teach you anything?” he asked.

  Maria heard Tanaka’s voice in her head telling her to adjust her mindset, and rapidly did so. Never wasted, not for a single moment, had been the countless hours spent with Tanaka. They had verbally sparred with one another all the time. ‘The foolish tongue runs from the mouth,’ he had said, ‘but the wise tongue walks as it talks.’

  “How else,” she replied to the fat man on the mat, “can the wisdom you yourself once sought, be imparted to one who would nurture its flame.”

  “How else indeed,” responded Wan Lai Tang, smiling as he now returned her bow.

  Maria saw that there were no windows in here, and noted that this obviously converted area received its air through vents spaced along the wall dividing it from the street outside.

  “You are standing,” informed the cheery sounding voice of Jasmine at her side, “in three hundred and twenty square feet of training space which used to be my lounge, and my dining room, and my kitchen. Those units are now above us on the second floor.”

  Maria smiled politely as she received this information, whilst wondering why the place was empty of students and when the man on the mat might deign to speak to her again.

  “After his conversation with Tanaka,” said Jasmine, “my father knew you would come one day. He has res
erved a place for you here. My father is seventy-five years old now,” she added quietly, “and only takes on one new student every two years.”

  Maria was stunned by Jasmine’s words. She watched as the fat man smiled his awareness of her reaction, and saw him bow to her again. But he still didn’t speak.

  “We will leave my father now,” said Jasmine, “Please come with me and we can discuss the arrangements for your sessions here.”

  Maria bowed to the silent man on the mat; cursing Tanaka in her mind. He could have warned her what to expect. Then she thought of the age of this fat man before her, and wondered just how high her expectations should be. Not very high at all, she thought. Jasmine led her to a corner of the dojo where a small table stood. There was no discussion; the Chinese woman opened a diary which lay on the table, and Maria’s obviously pre-prepared appointment schedule was withdrawn and handed to her. She left feeling not very hopeful of its worth.

  Her second visit to Wan Lai Tang was being used to extract information. Information which the jolly looking and fat-cheeked Chinaman sought, and which she was now providing whilst standing in the commanded position he had called ‘Wild goose leaves the flock.’ With one leg raised to waist height, and her torso coiled to one side and both arms extended, she collapsed twice as she answered his searching questions. Each time she went down on the floor, he calmly stroked what she believed was called a Walrus moustache and simply waited until she climbed to her feet and re-assumed the position. He then continued his probing. One hour later he knew all about her domestic background and its complications, knew how much Tanaka had taught her, had heard of how she intended to use her skills, and had learned all about the first killing blow at the Via Del Moro.

  “I know that Tanaka has taught you,” said the Chinaman, “the first stage of what you know to be called walking the circle. I will demonstrate now the second stage which you must practice in your own gymnasium before returning here. This second stage is a prime Chi power generation method of just one of the disciplines you will be studying. It is based upon a meditation practice employed by Taoist monks thousands of years ago, and was known then to its practitioners as the single palm change. It signifies the essence of Yang, which as you know is hard energy. When you graduate to the third stage, the steps will alter and both hands will be brought together for the double palm change which signifies the essence of Yin, the soft energy. Watch now, little one, as I demonstrate the second stage.”

  Maria watched as instructed. Unlike her memory of Tanaka’s lean and hard-muscled body, the Chinaman’s huge belly and smoothly skinned body showed no sign of toned muscle. But the way he was moving now before her was completely at odds with his appearance. Maria carefully watched the steps being performed, and watched again as they were repeated a few times for her benefit, before she realized she couldn’t even hear him move his weight around the floor.

  It was on the third visit that she witnessed the deceptive speed and awesome power of the septuagenarian Wan Lai Tang. She arrived at the Via Della Carozze building and was ushered inside the dojo by Jasmine to find the woman’s father surrounded by six fierce looking men evidently intent upon attacking him. Even as she was telling herself that the men were obviously the Chinaman’s own students, they simultaneously launched their attack. What then followed the attack, quickly astonished her.

  Seeming to use no space at all for such a big man, his feet and body turning and spinning in a seamless flow of movement, in the blink of an eye Wan Lai Tang disabled three of the attackers with elbow strikes, seemingly paralysed two with knuckle-jabs, and, without even touching him, simply pointing the fingers of both hands at the sixth attacker, lifted the man off his feet and threw him through the air to land against a wall.

  Maria stared hard at the scene before her. Knowing that was the second time she had witnessed the power of Chi. The first time had been when Pony-tail had deflected her thrown knife. Wan Lai Tang turned away from the scenario he had obviously intended her to see, walked right up to her and lightly tapped her on the head with his finger. She found herself on the floor, looking up at him, feeling as if she had been on the end of an electric shock. She knew she had just experienced the power of Chi at first hand.

  “The man you saw leave the ground,” said the Chinaman, looking down at her over his belly to where she lay in a daze, “feels no worse than you do now. Had I wished it,” he calmly stated, “the attacker would now be dead and feeling nothing at all.”

  Maria looked up at the Chinaman, thinking his speed and power was greater than anything she had ever seen. Then she remembered pony-tail.

  “To reach the stage,” said Wan Lai Tang, “which will enable you to decide how much power you transmit through your Chi will take years. So, my little Samurai,” he said with a smile, “you don’t have time to waste by lying there on the floor.”

  Maria rose to her feet unaided, determined to master everything this man could teach her.

  Maria’s chest cavity swelled slightly as she filled her lungs with a deep draught of oxygen. She stopped breathing for a microsecond, before slowly releasing the air through her nostrils. Her eyes remained closed, and her unbroken chain of thoughts continued to run freely through the subtle change in her posture on the mat. ‘Wan Lai Tang’s demonstration had spectacularly prefaced the real beginning to her current martial arts programme.’

  March playback....

  Maria arrived at the Chinaman’s dojo for her fourth session and was introduced to the six students she had last seen attempting to defeat Wan Lai Tang. They were all males of differing nationalities and ranging in age from thirty to forty years old, she reckoned. Each of them looked formidable, and neither of them appeared friendly.

  “Three of these students,” said Wan Lai Tang, “have been training for as long as you have lived. You have expressed the wish to practice what you referred to as group scenarios. Well then, my little Samurai, very soon now your wish will be granted. You will face all six of them together in combat, as you saw me do. But first let’s see how you manage to deal with just three.”

  The trio came at her as the Chinaman sounded the word three and she took two hard blows before she had even moved. She was still in her street clothes, still carrying her bag filled with practice gear, and she used it to block an elbow strike before dropping it at the feet of a man who stumbled slightly and was off-balanced enough to allow her Mae Geri kick to disable him. Strikes and counter-strikes violently consumed the next few seconds, and she had given and taken more blows when the sudden command Stop caused her attackers to step well away from her.

  “Tanaka did not exaggerate,” said Wan Lai Tang, “You are a born warrior, and worthy of the Samurai name. But we have work to do, do we not?” he ended, smiling his Chinaman’s smile.

  Maria stood where she was, breathing more heavily than she would have wished. She had been surprised here today, and she wasn’t happy about it. That hadn’t been a practice session, she could feel serious pain in several parts of her body. These men had been striking with full power, and she hadn’t been, and she wasn’t happy about that either.

  “I came here to work,” replied Maria, determined not to show that she was in pain.

  “Quite so,” said Wan Lai Tang, “but not to be attacked with such ferocity by those you have just defended yourself against. And not to use full power against those considered to be our fellow practice students.”

  Maria stared at him, feeling nauseous now, feeling like she could just tear the Walrus moustache right off his Chinese face, controlling her anger, knowing he was delivering some kind of message but feeling too exhausted to figure out what the message was.

  “And now you would be happy,” said Wan Lai Tang, “to attack even myself with the last of your strength. Calm yourself, Maria, you have just faced three men who have only ever been defeated by Wan Lai Tang. I saw the strikes you made, and they certainly
felt them despite your not having delivered them with full power, and they will tell you themselves that they had not expected you to land even one blow. And they certainly didn’t expect to suffer damage, which two of them have, along with yourself, my little Samurai.”

  Maria glanced to where her recent opponents stood, and saw that they were also breathing heavily and didn’t look too happy with themselves. The other three were looking quite relaxed, and she remembered she’d been told she would soon fight all six of them. She turned to the Chinaman who had read in her eyes the thought to remove him of his moustache.

  “It has been an interesting lesson,” was all she could think of to say but she felt that Tanaka would probably have approved of the statement.

  “There is more to follow,” responded Wan Lai Tang.

  The Chinaman grouped around him, herself and the two men she had injured. Maria then watched in respectful silence as Wan Lai Tang transmitted short healing bursts of his powerful Chi to their bruised bones and tissue. When it was her turn, she felt the heat spreading through her damaged parts but didn’t panic. Tanaka had told her about the long established association between the power of Chi and healing. She looked at the Chinaman’s hands with their stubby, almost clumsy looking fingers and silently marvelled at the awesome power of Chi....

  Still motionless on the mat, her breathing imperceptible to the naked eye, Maria’s memory tape continued to play for her its scenes... ‘Her new-found uncle had continued to delight....