John practiced in the small mirrored studio next to the gym. Dressed in a white shirt and black pants with wide legs, with a black sash tied at his waist, he sweated with the effort of another kata.

It takes Aikido to overcome a monster, thought John. Red might be able to smash his way to victory. A normal guy like me has to use the force of evil against itself. Deflection, not opposition. An hour into the exercises John was weary, but he wouldn't quit just yet. Not until he stumbled, and then he would practice for half an hour more.

Because when he was out in the field, the enemy would attack his weakness.

"You have to oppose evil," said a voice behind him. "You have to arm yourself with good. And it won't do you any good to practice by yourself."

"Abe," John panted. "If that's a hint - yes. I could use a partner here. Not a Zen master."

"I'll practice with you, then. You know of course, I already know what you'll do as soon as you do it." Abe wore a wetsuit from ankle to wrist. His gills were hidden under the giant collar of his respirator.

John turned around to face him. "You going to work out in that?" He asked.

"You're right." Abe removed the neoprene shirt and threw it to the ground. "I'm ready when you are. You should be nage."

The two men squared off and bowed. They worked together as one, Abe falling as a courtesy in response to John's moves.

Abe felt his partner weaken. "Time to switch, John. Try to overpower me," said the fish man. "If you move without thinking, I may not know where you're going." John stopped, became still. He measured Abe. Relaxed, then thrust forward. John felt a touch at his wrist, a pressure at his shoulder and he was down.

"For an instant I was the aggressor," said Abe. "You could have used my force against me."

"I told you not to talk like a Jedi master," said John. "You need to stop those late night movie marathons with Red."

"What else can I do when my wife is away?" Abe replied.

The two men squared off again. John came in slowly, matching his movement to Abe's. He felt an instant when Abe was off balance. Then John was thrown to the ground.

"That was good John. For a moment, I couldn't read you."

John snapped up. "Again Abe."

A steady steam of talk came from Abe as they sparred. "You're thinking about Angela."

John fell, got up.

"Ready to quit?" John shook his head.

"Words are the real weapon," said Abe. "They can be used against you to disarm you." He threw John to the ground who rolled, and leaped away. "Words can make you weak, especially when they are threats against someone you love."

He swayed to avoid John's arm, then touched John on the wrist. The agent sunk to the ground, held down only by the touch. "You love Angela. Would you do the right thing, even if it meant losing her? See yourself defending her. Would you be distracted?"

John pictured Angela, in his mind. Hurt, helpless. What would he do? His mind clouded over, as if a shaft of darkness passed before his eyes.

Then it seemed Angela was there - couched in the corner of the room. Her face was bloody. She looked up at a dark figure hovering above her. Moving about the figure was a dark cloud, like wings, a thousand swirling blades.

John struck out, and Abe fell to the floor. The apparition was gone.

"Abe! You okay?" The blue man couched on the floor, the broken respirator in his hands.

"I didn't produce that vision," said Abe. "But look what became of it." He held the broken respirator out to John. "I think I'll go back to the tank. Could you take this in for repair?"

"But, what was that, Abe?"

"I have no idea. It could have been something from Angela's past. Or, it may be a monster you'll have to face in the future in which case . . ." Abe gulped out the answer, his gills straining for oxygen. "A very unusual apparition. Come by in a few minutes. We can talk about it."

John stayed behind to replace the mats and clean up. When he looked in the mirror, he saw where he had bitten his lip. A small line of blood rested there, like a knife cut.