while you wait?”

“Thank you. Some tea would be very nice.”

“Certainly. I will see to it.”

“And I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“Of course.”

Kobayashi entered the small cubicle, closed the door behind him,

unbuttoned his jacket, and sat down on the cushion behind the low

table. Shiro, Takeo, and the others took up position outside. He

glanced at his watch again. When he looked up, he was startled to

see a man standing in the room, just inside the curtain. He was

holding a small tray with a tea service on it.

“Good afternoon, Don Kobayashi, ” he said in impeccable,

unaccented Japanese. “I am Morpheus.”

The man looked to be in his early to mid-forties, blond, with a

neatly trimmed beard and tinted, gold-rimmed glasses. He was

about five-ten or five-eleven, a hundred and ninety pounds or so,

well built and with good bearing. He was dressed in a dark,

elegantly tailored, neo-Edwardian suit with a modest touch of lace

at the throat and cuffs.

“May I offer you some tea?” he said, setting down the tray and

sitting down across the table from him.

“Please, ” said Kobayashi, looking at him with interest.

Modred poured for them.

“I did not even hear you come in, ” Kobayashi said.

Modred smiled. “Forgive me if I startled you. I did not want to

keep a man like yourself waiting.”

“I must confess that I am somewhat surprised to see you. I

was under the impression that you were a most secretive man. I

did not expect to actually meet you face-to-face. “

“In certain rare cases, I make exceptions to my usual procedure, ”

Modred said. “I did not wish to show disrespect by asking you to

deal with intermediaries.”

“I’m flattered. However, how can I be certain that you are not,