In the first session where a kata was taught, he struggled to learn the form like everyone else. But then, during the subsequent sessions, while everyone else was repeating their katas—and trying to set them in muscle memory—and needing a great deal of correction to improve their forms, Seba did them as flawlessly as he had at the end of the previous session. If he needed any correction, it was because he hadn’t quite gotten it down in the first session.
He was indeed coming to only every other training session and should’ve been falling behind. But he wasn’t. Since he learned everything perfectly the first time he was taught it, she thought he must be bored going through them over and over when he knew them so well already.
And Arya says he’s been in a real fight, she thought, not sure whether to be pleased or dismayed.
She called the class to an end, then once again asked Seba to stay and talk.
“Yes, Sensei?”
“I’m hoping you can tell me how you learn your katas so quickly. I’d like to be able to learn that way myself. Plus, then I could teach others how to do it.”
He frowned. “I’m not sure it can be learned,” he said. “I have something like a photographic memory. You’ve heard of those?”
Kate nodded, thinking that she couldn’t imagine how a picture-perfect memory would help with karate. But then, she thought, I don’t know a lot about photographic memories.
“So,” Seba said, “I’ve always been able to remember things I think are important. Not like a photograph the way some people can glance at a page, then seemingly read it later. But in my case, if I decide to remember something, like a number, or how to do something, I’m able to do so.” He paused, apparently thinking. “I was sickly as a child and never played sports so, until now, I’ve never tried to remember how to do something athletic. But now, in my first sport, karate, I’ve learned that if I try to remember how to do something like a kata or a strike, I seem to remember those as well.”
Kate frowned, “But most people have to practice a move or a kata over and over. ‘Committing it to muscle memory,’ we call it. You’re saying you don’t have to do that?”
He shrugged, “Apparently not. I don’t know why; it just seems to be the way my particular brain works.”
“Don’t you get bored practicing katas you already know?”
He shrugged, “A big part of what I’m here for is exercise.”
“Well, I can only wish my memory could learn katas in one session.” She thought a moment, “Arya Vaii’s a friend of mine.”
Seba said, “Okaay.”
“She said she works with you.”
“Uh-huh.”
Not very forthcoming, is he? Kate thought. “She said she didn’t even know you were taking karate until you broke somebody’s wrist at work.”
Seba looked chagrinned. “Yes. That was a mistake.”
“What happened?”
“He broke into our building and was stealing a piece of equipment… I should’ve called 911 and let the police deal with him.”
Though the dojo advocated nonviolence, using karate only as a last resort, Kate knew a lot of their students used it more than their master would’ve liked. It was unusual for one of their students to immediately say he shouldn’t have used his skills. Most would paint the situation as one that had no other way out. She said, “What’d you do?”
“I grabbed our equipment out of his hands.”
She shook her head, “What if he’d had a gun?”
“He did.”
Kate blinked, “He did?”
Seba nodded.
“What did you do?” Students were urged to resign the field in the face of such a weapon.
“He was in front of me, drawing it from some kind of behind-the-back holster so I used a knifehand strike to his distal forearm.”
“Arya said it broke his wrist?”
Seba shrugged, “The forearm near the wrist. Effectively the same thing. He fell too. Maybe he broke it in the fall.”
“Is that what you think happened?”
Seba shook his head.
“I think you did well, but I also think you were lucky.”
Seba gave her a small bow. “I agree.” He smiled, “I will endeavor to stay out of such situations in the future.”
“You do that,” she said with a smile, shaking his hand and clapping his arm. Oh my! She thought, That arm’s solid! I’ll bet strength had a significant part to do with his success.
***
Bob looked up at a knock on his door. It was Joe. Bob studied him a moment, then asked, “Whatcha want?”
“I been thinkin’ about that job you sent me and Richter on, Mr. Marona. The one to get that stazer machine?”
Bob nodded.
“I’ve been by there a couple times to scope it out. It’s gettin’ busier every day but there’s still no one there at night.”
“Seems I recall you didn’t think anyone was there last time either.”
“Yeah,” Joe waved dismissively, “Richter’s like a bull. No finesse. I’m thinking if I watch it a while with infrared glasses, I can be sure. You still want one of those stazers?”
“Yeah… Who you takin’ with you?”
“Danny.”
“Go for it. If you get one, be sure to get the instruction book too. We don’t wanna have it and not know how to use it.”
***
Gerald Horton was beginning to regret saying he’d take on studies of the use of stasis in emergency situations. He was running into piles of forms and roadblock after roadblock. Usually, devices for use in medicine started out as “investigational devices,” and studies of them were financially supported by the company that hoped to benefit from selling the devices. Staze was only supporting his study in the sense that they were letting him use their prototype free of charge.
He’d started a number of grant applications trying to get
