Also by Don Winslow
   A Cool Breeze on the Underground
   The Trail to Buddha’s Mirror
   Way Down on the High Lonely
   A Long Walk up the Water Slide
   While Drowning in the Desert
   Isle of Joy
   The Death and Life of Bobby Z
   California Fire and Life
   Looking for a Hero
   The Power of the Dog
   The Winter of Frankie Machine
   The Dawn Patrol
   The Gentlemen’s Hour
   Savages
   Also by Trevanian
   The Eiger Sanction
   The Loo Sanction
   The Main
   Shibumi
   The Summer of Katya
   Incident at Twenty-Mile
   Hot Night in the City
   The Crazyladies of Pearl Street
   1339 or So: Being an Apology for a Pedlar (Writing as Nicolas Seare)
   Rude Tales and Glorious (Writing as Nicolas Seare)
   PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF CANADA
   Copyright © 2011 Don Winslow and The Trevanian Beneficiaries
   All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Published in 2011 by Alfred A. Knopf Canada, a division of Random House of Canada Limited, and simultaneously in the United States of America by Grand Central Publishing, a division of the Hachette Book Group, New York. Distributed by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
   Knopf Canada and colophon are trademarks.
   www.randomhouse.ca
   This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
   Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
   Winslow, Don, 1953—
   Satori / Don Winslow.
   A novel based on Trevanian’s Shibumi.
   eISBN: 978-0-307-39873-4
   I. Trevanian. Shibumi II. Title.
   PS3573.I555S28 2010 813′.54 C2010-904204-2
   v3.1
   To Richard Pine
   Contents
   Cover
   Other Books by This Author
   Title Page
   Copyright
   Dedication
   Part One: TOKYO, OCTOBER 1951
   Chapter 1
   Chapter 2
   Chapter 3
   Chapter 4
   Chapter 5
   Chapter 6
   Chapter 7
   Chapter 8
   Chapter 9
   Chapter 10
   Chapter 11
   Chapter 12
   Chapter 13
   Chapter 14
   Chapter 15
   Chapter 16
   Part Two: BEIJING, JANUARY 1952
   Chapter 17
   Chapter 18
   Chapter 19
   Chapter 20
   Chapter 21
   Chapter 22
   Chapter 23
   Chapter 24
   Chapter 25
   Chapter 26
   Chapter 27
   Chapter 28
   Chapter 29
   Chapter 30
   Chapter 31
   Chapter 32
   Chapter 33
   Chapter 34
   Chapter 35
   Chapter 36
   Chapter 37
   Chapter 38
   Chapter 39
   Chapter 40
   Chapter 41
   Chapter 42
   Chapter 43
   Chapter 44
   Chapter 45
   Chapter 46
   Chapter 47
   Chapter 48
   Chapter 49
   Chapter 50
   Chapter 51
   Chapter 52
   Chapter 53
   Chapter 54
   Chapter 55
   Chapter 56
   Chapter 57
   Chapter 58
   Chapter 59
   Chapter 60
   Chapter 61
   Chapter 62
   Chapter 63
   Chapter 64
   Chapter 65
   Chapter 66
   Chapter 67
   Chapter 68
   Chapter 69
   Chapter 70
   Chapter 71
   Chapter 72
   Chapter 73
   Chapter 74
   Chapter 75
   Chapter 76
   Chapter 77
   Chapter 78
   Chapter 79
   Chapter 80
   Chapter 81
   Chapter 82
   Chapter 83
   Chapter 84
   Chapter 85
   Chapter 86
   Part Three: WULIANG MOUNTAINS, YUNNAN PROVINCE, CHINA
   Chapter 87
   Chapter 88
   Chapter 89
   Chapter 90
   Chapter 91
   Chapter 92
   Chapter 93
   Chapter 94
   Chapter 95
   Chapter 96
   Chapter 97
   Chapter 98
   Chapter 99
   Chapter 100
   Chapter 101
   Chapter 102
   Chapter 103
   Chapter 104
   Chapter 105
   Chapter 106
   Chapter 107
   Chapter 108
   Chapter 109
   Chapter 110
   Chapter 111
   Chapter 112
   Chapter 113
   Chapter 114
   Chapter 115
   Chapter 116
   Chapter 117
   Chapter 118
   Chapter 119
   Chapter 120
   Chapter 121
   Chapter 122
   Chapter 123
   Chapter 124
   Chapter 125
   Chapter 126
   Chapter 127
   Chapter 128
   Chapter 129
   Chapter 130
   Chapter 131
   Chapter 132
   Chapter 133
   Chapter 134
   Chapter 135
   Chapter 136
   Chapter 137
   Chapter 138
   Chapter 139
   Chapter 140
   Chapter 141
   Chapter 142
   Chapter 143
   Chapter 144
   Chapter 145
   Chapter 146
   Chapter 147
   Chapter 148
   Chapter 149
   Chapter 150
   Chapter 151
   Chapter 152
   Chapter 153
   Chapter 154
   Chapter 155
   Chapter 156
   Chapter 157
   Chapter 158
   Chapter 159
   Chapter 160
   Chapter 161
   Chapter 162
   Chapter 163
   Chapter 164
   Acknowledgments
   Author’s Note
   Part One
   TOKYO, OCTOBER 1951
   1
   NICHOLAI HEL WATCHED the maple leaf drop from the branch, flutter in the slight breeze, then fall gently to the ground.
   It was beautiful.
   Savoring the first glimpse of nature that he’d had after three years of solitary confinement in an American prison cell, he breathed in the crisp autumn air, let it fill his lungs, and held it for a few moments before he exhaled.
   Haverford mistook it for a sigh.
   “Glad to be out?” the agent asked.
   Nicholai didn’t respond. The American wa 
					     					 			s as nothing to him, a mere merchant like the rest of his compatriots, peddling espionage instead of automobiles, shaving cream, or Coca-Cola. Nicholai had no intention of engaging in meaningless conversation, never mind allowing this functionary access to his personal thoughts.
   Of course he was glad to be out, he thought as he looked back at the bleak gray walls of Sugamo Prison, but why did Westerners feel a need to voice the obvious, or attempt to give expression to the ineffable? It was the nature of a maple leaf to drop in the autumn. I killed General Kishikawa, as close to a father as I ever had, because it was my filial nature — and duty — to do so. The Americans imprisoned me for it because they could do nothing else, given their nature.
   And now they offer me my “freedom” because they need me.
   Nicholai resumed his walk along the pebbled path flanked by the maple trees. A bit surprised that he felt a twinge of anxiety at being outside the closed, small space of his cell, he fought off the wave of dizziness brought on by the open sky. This world was large and empty; he had no one left in it except himself. His own adequate company for three years, he was reentering a world that he no longer knew at the age of twenty-six.
   Haverford had anticipated this, having consulted a psychologist on the issues that face prisoners going back into society. The classic Freudian, replete with the stereotypical Viennese accent, had advised Haverford that “the subject” would have become used to the limitations of his confinement and feel overwhelmed at first by the sheer space suddenly confronting him in the outside world. It would be prudent, the doctor warned, to transfer the man to a small, windowless room with voluntary access to a yard or garden so that he could gradually acclimate himself. Open spaces, or a crowded city with its bustling population and incessant noise, would be likely to upset the subject.
   So Haverford had arranged for a small room in a quiet safe house in the Tokyo suburbs. But from what he could learn from what there was to be learned of Nicholai Hel, he couldn’t imagine the man being easily overwhelmed or upset. Hel displayed preternatural self-possession, a calm that was almost condescending, confidence that often crossed the line into arrogance. On the surface, Hel appeared to be a perfect blend of his aristocratic Russian mother and his samurai surrogate father, the war criminal Kishikawa, whom he had saved from the shame of a hangman’s noose with a single finger-thrust to the trachea.
   Despite his blond hair and vibrant green eyes, Haverford thought, Hel is more Asian than Western. He even walks like an Asian — his arms crossed behind his back so as to take up as little space as possible and not cause inconvenience to anyone coming from the other direction, his tall, thin frame slightly stooped in modesty. European in appearance, Haverford decided, Asian in substance. Well, it made sense — he was raised by his émigré mother in Shanghai, and then mentored by Kishikawa when the Japs took the city. After the mother died, Kishikawa moved the boy to Japan to live with and study under a master of the impossibly complicated and nuanced board game Go, a sort of Jap chess, albeit a hundredfold more difficult.
   Hel became a master in his own right.
   So is it any wonder that Hel thinks like an Asian?
   Nicholai sensed the man’s thoughts on him. The Americans are incredibly transparent, their thoughts as obvious as stones at the bottom of a clear, still pool. He didn’t care what Haverford thought of him — one doesn’t solicit the opinions of a grocery clerk — but it did annoy him. Shifting his attention to the sun on his face, he felt it warm his skin.
   “What would you like?” Haverford asked.
   “In the sense of what?”
   Haverford chuckled. Most men emerging from long confinement wanted three things—a drink, a meal, and a woman, not necessarily in that order. But he was not going to indulge Hel’s arrogance, so he answered, in Japanese, “In the sense of what would you like?”
   Mildly impressed that Haverford spoke Japanese, and interested that he refused to surrender such a small stone on the board, Nicholai responded, “I don’t suppose that you could organize an acceptable cup of tea.”
   “In fact,” Haverford said, “I’ve arranged a modest cha-kai. I hope you find it acceptable.”
   A formal tea ceremony, Nicholai thought.
   How interesting.
   A car waited at the end of the walk. Haverford opened the back door and ushered Nicholai in.
   2
   THE CHA-KAI WAS not only acceptable, it was sublime.
   Nicholai savored each sip of the cha-noyu as he sat cross-legged on the tatami floor next to the lacquered table. The tea was transcendent, as was the geisha who knelt nearby, discreetly just out of hearing range of the sparse conversation.
   To Nicholai’s shock, the functionary Haverford knew his way around the tea ceremony and served with impeccable courtesy, his ritual flawless. Upon arrival at the teahouse, Haverford had apologized that there were, by necessity, no other guests, then led Nicholai into the machiai, the waiting room, where he introduced Nicholai to an exquisitely lovely geisha.
   “This is Kamiko-san,” Haverford said. “She will serve as my hanto today.”
   Kamiko bowed and handed Nicholai a kimono to put on, then offered him sayu, a cup of the same hot water that would be used to brew the tea. Nicholai took a sip, then, as Haverford excused himself to go prepare the tea, Kamiko took Nicholai outside to the roji, the “dew ground,” a small garden that held only arrangements of rocks but no flowers. They sat on the stone bench and, without conversation, enjoyed the tranquility.
   A few minutes later Haverford, now kimono-clad, walked to a stone basin and ceremonially washed his mouth and hands in the fresh water, then stepped through the middle gate into the roji, where he formally welcomed Nicholai with a bow. In turn, Nicholai purified himself at the tsukubai.