she had the parry for his elbow and she rolled it aside-Carl switched
tactics, twisted, went with her move, looped his parried hand across
her chest and stepped in for a throw behind her leg, the kenjit-Toni
dropped her weight, knees bent deeply, leaned forward, and reversed the
move, snapped her own foot back, caught his leg for a beset
takedown-Carl leaned in, put his head on her shoulder, stole her base,
and switched feet--fast!--and did the inside sweep, sapu dalqm-She
wasn't quick enough with the counter, and she went down, dived and
tried to make it into a roll, but he was there, tapping her on the
floating ribs with the heel of his wrestling shoe, just hard enough to
let her know he had the shot.
Toni grinned, took his offered hand, and got back to her feet.
The entire sequence had taken maybe three seconds.
'Good series,' he said.
'Yes.'
They were alone in the school where he taught his classes, a version of
the Indonesian martial art of pentjak silat that was similar to her own
system. Toni had been training since the age of thirteen; she knew the
eight djurus of the entry-level style called Bukti Negara, plus the
eighteen djurus of the more complex parent art, Serak, and until she
had met Carl Stewart, had never sparred with anybody who could beat
her. Well, except for her teacher, Guru De Beers Guru was in her
eighties now, still shaped like a brick and dangerous to anybody who
might be stupid enough to think she was a helpless old lady, but if
push came to shove, Toni knew she could best her teacher in a fight.
Barely.
That was the thing about silat; it didn't depend on strength or speed,
but more on principles. In theory, a player always expected to go up
against bigger, stronger, and multiple opponents, who were probably
armed, and at least as well trained. Being able to survive and even
prevail under such circumstances meant your technique had to be very
good, and your system absolutely scientific.
There were no perfect arts that would handle every possible
attack--when Toni talked to martial artists who claimed their ancient
systems were complete, she'd always ask them which form taught them how
to defend against a twelve-gauge shotgun at thirty feet--but some arts
were more effective than others. In her opinion, silat was better than
most. Of course, she would think that, given her years of training in
it.
Carl glanced at the wall clock.
'Got an hour before the beginning class gets here. You want to get a
cup of tea?
Or coffee?'
Toni hesitated a second, then said, 'Sure.'
There was no reason not to. Alex was back in Washington, and she was
still not happy with him. She had programmed her com to bounce his
calls, though he still tried to get through at least once every day.
They were officially broken up, and she didn't work for Net Force
anymore. She had enough money to stay in London through the summer, if
