'Yes, reverend one.' The monks stared at Lobsang. His robe still fluttered this way and that in the teeth of the intangible gale, the stars glinting when they caught the light. The abbot smiled a cherubic smile. 'So should we all,' he said. 'None of us has ever seen it, I believe. None of us has ever been able to wheedle it out of him. But... this is the Iron Dojo. It has rules! Two may walk in, but only one can walk out! This is no practice dojo! Wanna 'lephant! Do you understand?'
'But I don't want-' Lobsang began, and the sweeper jerked an elbow into his ribs. 'You say “Yes, reverend one,”' he growled. 'But I never intended-' This time the back of his head was slapped. 'This is no time to step back!' Lu-Tze said. 'You're too late, wonder boy!' He nodded to the abbot. 'My apprentice understands, reverend one.'
'Your apprentice, Sweeper?'
'Oh, yes, reverend one,' said Lu-Tze. 'My apprentice. Until I say otherwise.'
'Really? Bikkit! Then he may enter. You too, Lu-Tze.'
'But I only meant to-' Lobsang protested. 'Inside!' Lu-Tze roared. 'Will you shame me? Shall people think I have taught you nothing?' The inside of the Iron Dojo was, indeed, a darkened dome full of spikes. They were needle thin and there were tens of thousands of them covering the nightmare walls. 'Who would build something like this?' said Lobsang, looking up at the glistening points that covered even the ceiling. 'It teaches the virtues of stealth and discipline,' said Lu-Tze, cracking his knuckles. Impetuosity and speed can be as dangerous to the attacker as to the attacked, as perhaps you will learn. One condition: we are all human here? Agreed?'
'Of course, Sweeper. We are all human here.'
'And shall we agree: no tricks?'
'No tricks,' said Lobsang. 'But-'
'Are we fighting, or are we talking?'
'But, look, if only one can walk out, that means I'll have to kill you-' Lobsang began. 'Or vice versa, of course,' said Lu-Tze. 'That is the rule, yes. Shall we get on?'
'But I didn't know that!'
'In life, as in breakfast cereal, it is always best to read the instructions on the box,' said Lu- Tze. 'This is the Iron Dojo, wonder boy!' He stepped back and bowed. Lobsang shrugged, and bowed in return. Lu-Tze took a few steps back. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then went through a series of simple moves, limbering up. Lobsang winced to hear the crackle of joints. Around Lobsang there was a series of snapping noises, and for a moment he thought of the old sweeper's bones. But tiny hatches all over the curved wall were swinging open. He could hear whispers as people jostled for position. And by the sound of it, there were a great many people. He extended his hands, and let himself rise gently in the air. 'I thought we said no tricks?' said Lu-Tze. 'Yes, Sweeper,' said Lobsang, poised in mid-air. 'And then I thought: never forget Rule One.'
'Aha! Well done. You've learned something!' Lobsang drifted closer. 'You cannot believe the things that I have seen since last I saw you,' he said. 'Words cannot describe them. I have seen worlds nesting within worlds, like those dolls they carve in Uberwald. I have heard the music of the years. I know more than I can ever understand. But I do not know the Fifth Surprise. It is a trick, a conundrum... a test.'
'Everything is a test,' said Lu-Tze. 'Then show me the Fifth Surprise and I promise not to harm you.'
'You promise not to harm me?'
'I promise not to harm you,' Lobsang repeated solemnly. 'Fine. You only had to ask,' said Lu-Tze, smiling broadly. 'What? I asked before and you refused!'
'You only had to ask at the right time, wonder boy.'
'And is it the right time now?'
'It is written, “There's no time like the present,”' said Lu-Tze. 'Behold, the Fifth Surprise!' He reached into his robe. Lobsang floated closer. The sweeper produced a cheap carnival mask. It was one of those that consisted of a fake pair of spectacles, glued above a big pink nose, and finished with a heavy black moustache. He put it on and waggled his ears once or twice. 'Boo,' he said. 'What?' said Lobsang, bewildered. 'Boo,' Lu-Tze repeated. 'I never said it was a particularly imaginative surprise, did I?' He waggled his ears again, and then waggled his eyebrows. 'Good, eh?' he said, and grinned. Lobsang laughed. Lu-Tze grinned wider. Lobsang laughed louder, and lowered himself to the mat. The blows came out of nowhere. They caught him in the stomach, on the back of his neck, in the small of his back and swept his legs from under him. He landed on his stomach, with Lu- Tze pinning him down in the Straddle of the Fish. The only way to get out of that was to dislocate your own shoulders. There was a sort of collective sigh from the hidden watchers. 'Déjà-fu!'
'What?' said Lobsang, into the mat. 'You said none of the monks knew déjà-fu!'
'I never taught it to 'em, that's why!' said Lu-Tze. 'Promise not to harm me, would you? Thank you so very much! Submit?'
'You never told me you knew it!' Lu-Tze's knees, rammed into the secret pressure points, were turning Lobsang's arms into powerless lumps of flesh. 'I may be old but I'm not daft!' Lu-Tze shouted. 'You don't think I'd give away a trick like that, do you?'
'That's not fair-' Lu-Tze leaned down until his mouth was an inch from Lobsang's ear.
'Didn't say “fair” on the box, lad. But you can win, you know. You could turn me into dust, just like that. How could I stop Time?'
'I can't do that!'
'You mean you won't, and we both know it. Submit?' Lobsang could feel parts of his body trying to shut themselves down. His shoulders were on fire. I can discarnate, he thought. Yes, I can, I could turn him to dust with a thought. And lose. I'd walk out and he'd be dead and I'd have lost. 'Nothing to worry about, lad,' said Lu-Tze, calmly now. 'You just forgot Rule Nineteen. Submit?'
'Rule Nineteen?' said Lobsang, almost pushing himself off the mat until terrible pain forced him down again. 'What the hell is Rule Nineteen? Yes, yes, submit, submit!'
'“Remember Never to Forget Rule One”,' said Lu-Tze. He released his grip. 'And always ask yourself: how come it was created in the first place, eh?' Lu-Tze got to his feet, and went on: 'But you have performed well, all things considered, and therefore as your master I have no hesitation in recommending you for the yellow robe. Besides,' he lowered his voice to a whisper, 'everyone peeking in here has seen me beat Time and that's the sort of thing that'll look really good on my curriculum vitae, if you catch my meaning. Def'nitely give the o'l Rule One a fillip. Let me give you a hand up.' He reached down. Lobsang was about to take the hand when he hesitated. Lu-Tze grinned again, and gently pulled him upright. 'But only one of us can leave, Sweeper,' said Lobsang, rubbing his shoulders. 'Really?' said Lu-Tze. 'But playing the game changes the rules. I say the hell with it.' The remains of the door were pushed aside by the hands of many monks. There was the sound of someone being hit with a rubber yak. 'Bikkit!'
'... and the abbot, I believe, is ready to present you with the robe,' said Lu-Tze. 'Don't make any comment if he dribbles on it, please.' They left the dojo and, followed now by every soul in Oi Dong, headed for the long terrace. It was, Lu-Tze reminisced later, an unusual ceremony. The abbot did not appear overawed, because babies generally aren't and will throw up over anyone. Besides, Lobsang might have been master of the gulfs of time, but the abbot was master of the valley, and therefore respect was a line that travelled in both directions. But the handing over of the robe had caused a difficult moment.