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of the life in and around the water. He found a modern
factory engaged in manufacturing tungsten and other metallic parts
for rocket motors. The wastes from this factory poured into the
river, contaminating it.
Fu Antos was not familiar with the Industrial Age. He did not
understand mechanized mass production. To him this was a malignant
castle, spewing out the burning urine of a dragon, killing
the helpless villagers. It was his duty to destroy it.
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The castle was well guarded. It had massive windowless walls,
and a fence of metal spikes surrounded it. The day was overcast,
but electric dragon's eyes illuminated the grounds like sunlight.
Secret entry seemed impossible.
It was a sufficient challenge for a ninja.
Fu Antos did not like what he had to do, but he refused to be
deterred. He removed from his pack his black ninja suit and donned
it. He fastened it carefully so that it was virtually watertight, and
brought the hood tight about his face so that little skin was exposed.
Then he dived into the polluted river. He swam strongly
upcurrent, his eyes tightly closed to keep out the poison. He relied
on his ki for ultimate protection, but still the chemicals made
his face burn. His body was young yet; neither its muscles nor its
ki had been properly broken in.
Where the metal fence crossed the water, he handed his way
down deep, passing under the bottom of the barricade. Then he
floated up slowly inside the factory compound.
He broke water silently, shaking the fluid off his face before
opening his eyes. Wherever the water touched him, he was smarting.
But he remained in it a few moments longer, for the river was
in shadow here. The depth of pollution made it opaque; with his
black hood he was virtually invisible. This, of course, was no coincidence;
for centuries the ninjas had been the masters of invisibility,
the spy class of Japan. Fu Antos was the master ninja.
Close to the building he drew himself out, shedding water in
the manner of an aquatic bird. Concealment would be better in
the river, but he didn't care to immerse himself in the highly concentrated
effluence spewing out from the factory pipe, the penis of
the dragon. He emerged like a shadow.
Now his uniform was a liability, black against a light background,
and the lingering drips marked his trail. He doffed it,
shook it dry, and reversed it. The other side was a light creamy hue
that blended perfectly with the color of the gaunt walls. He would
now be difficult to see when he froze against that background.
He tucked his kusarigama into the belt behind him, so that
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the chained sickle did not show from front or side, and palmed
two star-shaped shuriken, ready for instant use. To the casual observer,
he was still an unarmed child.
He considered scaling the wall, but this would have been difficult
in this body. But if he used a normal entrance, he would not
be able to avoid the guard pacing in the dazzling light. So he did
not try; he walked boldly toward the main portal.
The guard saw him. The man's eyes widened at the sight of
this strangely garbed child. His mouth opened.
In that moment of confusion, Fu Antos could have killed him
with a shuriken in the throat. The star-shaped throwing blades did
not penetrate as deeply as the single-bladed ones, but a score on
the throat would have been sufficient. Instead he used his fingers.
From a distance of twenty feet he initiated the hypnotic kuji-kiri
compulsion.
The guard could not break away and could not cry alarm. He
seemed to be drowning in those eyes, drawn right out of his body
and sucked into the orbs. Yet it was the hands that really compelled,
their incessant mystic motions telling him something,
numbing his brain, forcing it through a convolution, as though it
were being thrown headlong, rolling over and over-yet he was
standing still. Then, as it were, a door closed.
Suddenly the guard forgot to see the odd boy. He walked on,
blithely unaware of anything unusual. The ancient ninja fingerhypnotism
technique had rendered Fu Antos invisible to this man.
Fu Antos opened the large front door, seeking the master of
this grim fortress. He paused, startled by the blast of cold air that
met him. What sort of a dragon had a cold lair? He had never
before encountered air-conditioning. But after his initial surprise,
he recognized it as a harmless phenomenon, and entered the front
office.
A pretty girl looked up from the information desk. A maiden
in distress? "Yes?" she said, then did a double-take.
"What are you doing here? This is no place for-"
Fu Antos used the kuji-kiri technique on her, hypnotizing her
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instantly. "I seek the robber baron," he said. "I will free you and
the village from the grasp of the dragon."
The hypnosis gave her comprehension. "The directors are in a
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