I must admit that these four books are almost at the top of my list when it comes to works of fiction that are martial arts oriented. I think only Steve Perry's books could top these. Although these are out of print, they are not difficult to locate in used book stores, and they would well reward any effort you put out to acquire them.
Back Cover:
Wisdom shall not perish by the sword!
It is many centuries since the people of Kensho became followers of the Way. The meaning of their founder Nakamura's koan ("To be free, a man must follow the Way that leads to the place where he dwelt before he was born") is no longer a mystery. It is this wisdom which enabled the colonists to mindblast Earth's scout ship eight years ago and send it limping home in disgrace.
But now the entire Earth Fleet is returning for a final assault. What can the swordmasters and the men of wisdom do against such an armada - armed with the most awesome weaponry in the galaxy? The old answers are inadequate. To save themselves and their planet, the men and women of Kensho must abandon the Way. They must enter the void. They must, each one, become a WANDERER.
The Admiral looked at the sensors, then turned and stared at the calm figure of Dunn. "I don't think you or those who sent you quite realize the situation. You see, we have a Fleet of seven battleships stationed around your planet. All I have to do is give the word. and Kensho will become a smoldering cinder. All life will cease. This is not an idle threat. I will be happy to demonstrate on one of Kensho's moons if anyone doubts our power." "And yet, Admiral." Dunn replied gently, "I was able to enter this flagship, this bridge, without anyone seeing or stopping me. Think of what that might mean, Admiral..."
Prologue
The mountains rose on every side, dark and lonely in the night. A steady wind blew from the west, shredding the few clouds that clung to the sky and flinging them eastward. Aside from the numbing light of the stars, the night sky was empty.
They sat in a circle, in the center of a plain, in the middle of the mountains. They were nine in number, clad in black, their long gray hair whipping in the wind. Full robes draped and obscured their figures, and deep cowls hid their faces from sight. They sat cross-legged, the skirts of their robes fanning out to cover the ground. There was nothing to indicate who or what manner of creature they might be.
For many minutes, the only thing that could be heard was the moaning of the wind as it swept across the plain and swirled around their circle. Then, as though born of the wind itself, a slightly different sound began to separate itself from the background. It started as the merest whisper. Gradually it grew in intensity, one moment sinking back into the wind, the next rising triumphantly above it. As it rose higher and higher, a light grew on the horizon to the east. Slowly, a moon pushed up between two peaks. Almost immediately it was followed by two more in quick succession. After a short pause, a fourth joined the other three and together they began their march across the sky.
Now the sound was louder and more intense than the wind. Its cadence was wild and irregular, yet seemed to hint at an internal logic that transcended any ordinary concept of order. When softer, it had seemed to come from the very ground itself. Now, as it grew in strength, it could clearly be traced to the circle of figures.
The light of all four moons was surprisingly bright, and revealed something new about the figures. Deep within the cowls were human faces. They were of various forms, but all had the same severe frown of concentration, and the same hard, bright eyes that stared out at things that were not visible. The lips moved slightly, forming the words of the chant that rose to intertwine with the moaning of the wind and swirl off toward the moons slowly climbing in the eastern sky.
The words of the chant were almost recognizable, yet somehow they resisted understanding, twisting from the mind's grasp at the last moment. Higher and higher rose the droning sound until it dominated the night, pulling the wind with it, forcing the clouds to Bee, pushing the moons up, up, ever up. The plain, the mountains, and eventually the world began to move around their circle as though around an axis. They were the center.
As the first of the four moons reached the highest point in the heavens, the wordless, flowing chant stopped suddenly and the world was silent in surprise and anticipation. One of the dark figures spoke in a husky whisper that rang out against the mountain peaks. "See! See! It lies there in space, so serene, so beautiful. What shall we call it? What shall its name be?"
"Death," another answered in a dry, rasping voice.
"Life," suggested a second.
"Beginning," came a third answer.
"End," was the fourth.
"Kensho," said a fifth, firmly, commandingly.
Nine heads nodded in agreement. "Yes, Yes. Kensho. For it shall be Death and Life. It shall be Beginning and End. It shall be Kensho. And it shall be Satori."
From the depths of one of the hoods came a cry of pain and horror. "Ahhhhhh! Madness! See how they kill each other!"
"Yesss," came the group's reply. "The Mushin strike, the mind killers, the leeches, the eaters of emotions."
"I am annoyed," one said, a whining complaint in the night.
"Mushin make annoyance into anger," came the muttered answer.
"I am angry," another continued, his voice hard and brittle.
"Mushin make anger into fury," the response hissed.
"I am furious," shouted a third, the very air quivering.
"Mushin make fury into rage."
"I rage, I rage!" shrieked a fourth, his cry splitting the night and causing tiny creatures to huddle in terror in their burrows.
"Now Mushin strike," the chant calmly continued. "Now the killers push the tottering mind over the brink to fall in endless insanity. And now they feed!"
A hideous silence followed, one heavy with dread and death. It was finally broken by a lonely wail. "Dead! Dead, all dead! Bodies everywhere! Twisted, bloody, eyes gouged out, throats torn out. Dead."
"Some live. A few. Those who control the emotions. Those who can still the mind. Nakamura knows. He will save them."
Now a chant rose, soft at first, slowly gaining force until it filled the world with its power. "Moons, moons, shining down on waters, waters moving slowly, moons moving slowly, yet being still. Still the waters, still the moons. Movement, strife, all longing is but a reflection, passing to stillness when the mind is calmed."
The chant ran out into the night, rolling along, smoothing the world. A calm settled over and around the circle. The nine figures were still.
As the second moon reached the height of the sky one of them spoke. "A man comes. And then another. They bring a way."
"Not a weapon, but a Way," the others answered.
"Jerome, to save us from the Mushin."
"Edwyr, to save us from ourselves."
"Way-Farer. He who treads the Way that all may walk it."
"There is Judgment. Those who change survive. The race changes. The race survives."
"Kensho is true to its name. Mushin become Mind Brothers. The ends almost meet, the circle is almost full."
Now the third moon rose to its apex in the night sky. In one mighty cry the circle shouted, "They come! They come!"
The chant ran around the circle again. "With might beyond compare, they come."
"With space-spanning ships, they come."
"With mind twisting machines, they come."
"One comes to Kensho, one goes from Kensho."
"The balance is kept."
"The one who comes, stays, unwhole."
"The one who goes, returns, whole."
"The balance is kept,"
"They go." The final words were whispered in tense unison.
For the fourth time, a watchful silence fell over the circle of forms. Though none looked up into the sky, all were watching and waiting for the fourth moon to reach the point already reached by the three others. When it climbed to that place, a great sigh went up from the nine. The sigh changed into a moan that the wind took up and whipped against the mountains until the very air vibrated with it and the ground of the plain trembled and shook.
"Again they come. Many more."
"Yes, yes, they come again."
"Who will stay and who will go?"
"Who will keep the balance?"
"Who will close the circle?"
Eight hooded heads turned to the form at the eastern point of the circle. The cowl dipped slightly and a voice issued forth from its depths. "The past is easily traveled. One road leads back from here. The rest have withered through lack of use. What was is determined by what is. What is contains what must be. This way of seeing can tell no more."
The heads turned then to the figure at the western point. The cowl bowed in acknowledgment and sorrow. "The future is not as open and clear as the past. It is infinite and multitudinous. From this instant the paths of possibility flare off in all directions.
"Once we looked and paid a heavy price. We saw many ends. And some beginnings. Now that which is most probable will be shared. And that which is hoped for as well. Open and receive, for the fourth moon is high and soon will be setting."
The circle breathed deep and drew gently into a stillness that seemed to stop the very flow of time and being. Nothing moved. The wind halted and hung suspended in the frozen moonslight.
Then it was over. The stars went once more on their way, the fourth moon began to set, the wind scurried on eastward in its journey as if to make up for lost time. One of the figures sighed and murmured, "I have seen an end." "Yes," came the reply, "an end."
"And yet, it was a beginning."
"Yes, a beginning."
"That which has been is always becoming that which will be."
"Through the narrow instant of now the infinite future becomes the singular past. All ends are beginnings, all beginnings ends."
"The moons are setting as soon as they rise."
"The fate of Kensho has risen."
"Now it is setting."
"To rise again?"
"To close the circle?"
A pause followed, one filled almost to bursting with conjecture and wondering. Then with one voice, the nine cried out, "They come, they come, they come!"
Hours later, when the last of the four moons had set, the plain was empty except for the hiss and swirl of the wind. The mountains looked down on darkness. Nothing looked back.
