Airship Stowaway

New Challenges

The days passed rapidly, and Joanna found it easy, for the most part, to stay in the moment. Only when she was on her own sweeping out halls or cleaning canteen tables did her mind sometimes wander to the past, or to the future. But she found, even then, a way to focus on what she was doing, to be fully conscious of her actions. 

She did it by thinking about how to be both completely efficient and totally thorough in her work. So by trial and error she discovered the best way to shepherd the little piles of dust across the hall floor and to the door, and the optimum amount of water to have in her cloth so that the tables did not become too wet, but also without making her return to the bucket too often. 

Gansung gave her no praise for this, but Joanna was not doing it for praise; she wanted to find the way for its own sake. In fact her interactions with Gansung were brief and wordless. But one morning, when Joanna reported for duty a bit earlier than usual, she found Gansung engaged in some form of physical practice. 

He appeared so focused on what he was doing that Joanna stopped himself at the door, and stood watching unobtrusively. 

Gansung seemed to be engaged in a fight with an imaginary opponent. Long sweeping movements of his arms and legs were interrupted by sudden flurries of blows, his fists and elbows a blur of motion. Occasional flying kicks and spins marked his progress through a precise pattern of movement, as if Gansung were following lines chalked on the floor of the hall. 

Finally the routine ended in an especially impressive flurry of blows, and a bloodcurdling yell. Then Gansung was on his knees, bowing low to a small golden statue at one end of the hall. She knew from conversations with Deepak that this statue was of the Buddha, who was not the god of Buddhism. In fact Deepak had told her that Buddhists believed in no god in the Christian sense. It was all deeply confusing. 

Suddenly Gansung rose from his devotion and seemed to become aware of his surroundings again. He saw Joanna. 

"How long have you been standing there?" he demanded. Joanna was taken aback by the aggression in his tone, and also by the fact that Gansung could speak English. she considered lying, and saying that she had only just arrived: but it felt wrong. "About ten minutes."

Gansung seemed to be controlling himself with a visible effort. "What do you think of what you saw?"

Again Joanna was tempted to lie, that she had not understood what she had seen. Again she decided to tell the truth. "It looked as if you were fighting. Then you prayed to the Buddha."

Gansung considered this, and seemed to calm down a bit. Joanna suddenly blurted the question which had been nagging at her since Gansung had started his devotion. "I thought that Buddhists were against all violence."

Gansung looked at her in surprise. "That is generally true, yes. But tell me this: if someone attacks you, and you do not have the strength and skill to beat him, what will be the result?"

Joanna thought unhappily about past encounters with the ‘prentice gang on Aeropolis. "I will be beaten."

"So the result is violence, yes?"

"I suppose so. But if I was strong enough to beat my attacker, and I fought back, there would still be violence!"

Gansung laughed. "Not necessarily. Those who are trained and skilled carry themselves in a different way. Often those who would do violence to others recognise this, and do not attack."

"And if they do?"

"Then the attack will be short, and will not recur."

Joanna nodded. It made sense. 

Gansung continued. "In olden days, monks would travel much more, often through lawless lands. So we developed ways to defend ourselves." He raised his fist in front of him. "But we never strike first." He closed his other hand over his fist, so that his two hands joined in the traditional greeting. Peace, but from strength and not weakness. 

"I want to learn," said Joanna. "Will you teach me?"

Gansung immediately looked wary. "Why?"

Joanna told him. She talked about the ‘prentice gang, and how scared they had made her. She talked about Rasmussen, and how powerless she had felt. Gansung listened gravely. 

At last he folded his arms. "Very few people know about this. If I were to train you, I must know that you will take it very seriously. I wouldn't even consider it if you hadn't shown extraordinary dedication to your work."

"I understand," said Joanna. "I will tell no-one."

"If you do, know that I will hunt you down." Gansung said this with deadly seriousness. Joanna gulped as she stared into his eyes. 

Gansung laughed. "Good. We understand each other."

Joanna relaxed. Gansung had been joking. Or had he? A kernel of unease remained. 

"It will be very hard," said Gansung, his expression serious again. "If you return here tomorrow, at dawn, you must be prepared for the path. Once you have started, there is no turning back."

"Now get to work. The east hall needs sweeping."