Part 10 (1/2)

He punched in the code, called up the receiving routine, and waited for the message.

There had been a call from s.h.i.+p-to-sh.o.r.e phone, the communications line linking him directly with Dr. Shozo Takahas.h.i.+, director-in-charge of his top secret ”project” in the Inland Sea. The director was requesting that Noda-sama contact him immediately via scrambler. Top security. He felt his pulse begin to race as he digested the news.

It had been so easy. Almost too easy.

He sat perfectly still for that timeless, historic moment, gazing at the photograph of Akira Mori. A promise kept, from long, long ago. Four decades now, and he had never forgotten what he had said he would do for her.

He called down for tea, waited till it had been delivered, then punched on the phone and switched it to the security mode.

But even on the scrambler, Takahas.h.i.+ began circ.u.mspectly. As the esteemed Noda-sama was aware, their ”project” had, over its three years, contended with great difficulties and many disappointments. They were working at the very limits of undersea technology. As Noda-sama also knew, he went on, their early attempts at seismic vertical profiling had been a complete failure. Takahas.h.i.+ took personal responsibility for that. Next they had changed strategy and utilized state-of-the-art microwave radar, hoping that minuscule changes in density along the bottom might indicate what they sought. That too, Takahas.h.i.+ apologized, had been unproductive from the start as Noda-sama had been informed, and he, Takahas.h.i.+, took full blame for the failure.

Noda cut in at that point, impatient and wanting to circ.u.mvent the litany of apologies. Why was Takahas.h.i.+ calling?

The director paused dramatically, then declared he wished to inform the august Noda-sama that their latest approach, the use of a new digital magnetometer, had at last borne fruit. Only this morning they had detected and brought up an ”item.” In the treacherous straits east- northeast of s.h.i.+koku. It was a water-tight gold case embossed with what appeared to be a sixteen-leaf chrysanthemum or _kiku_. The imperial insignia.

Other confirming inscriptions? Noda nervously reached out and clicked off the humming computer.

Yes, the formal script across one end appeared to be no later than tenth century. Although they dared not open the gold case for fear of damaging its contents, at this moment preliminary a.n.a.lytical procedures were underway and the early results, including a makes.h.i.+ft attempt at s.h.i.+pboard X-ray crystallography, suggested that the steel inside, which clearly showed traces of copper alloy, contained less than a hundredth of one percent of iron oxide. In short, it was possible the ”item”

might be perfectly preserved.

It was theirs, Takahas.h.i.+ said, in that breathy, clipped language inferiors use to signify great importance and great deference. It was his extreme honor to announce to the esteemed Noda-sama that the most important archeological find in the history of j.a.pan now belonged to Nippon, Inc., and they--

”_Chigau_,” Noda cut him off, in the curt tone expected of superiors.

Incorrect: it belonged to its rightful owner and would now be returned.

And furthermore, he added, Nippon, Inc. had just ceased to exist. Since the name for ancient j.a.pan was Dai Nippon, ”Great j.a.pan,” as of this moment Nippon, Inc. had just become Dai Nippon, International. A complete reorganization would begin immediately.

Finally he ordered a total blackout. Radios silenced. No sh.o.r.e leave for crew or scientists.

He clicked off the phone and repressing a tremble, descended the stairs.

And there on the garden veranda, using a new brush and perfumed _sumi_ ink from his rare collection, Matsuo Noda composed a very elaborate letter, long swirls of black down a perfect sheet of thick, flowered paper hundreds of years old. It was then sealed in a silver case and hand delivered by special messenger to a fortress in, the center of Tokyo.

Five days later its recipient read it before a nationally televised press conference, and j.a.pan exploded.

CHAPTER FIVE

”_Kami wo araitai no desu ga. Ii desu ka_?” Tam peered through the doorway and nodded h.e.l.lo to the girl in the blue Imperial Hotel uniform. The hair salon was almost empty. Perfect.

”_Hai, so_.” The girl, startled at the _gaijin's_ accentless j.a.panese, bowed to the waist. ”_Dozo_.”

”_Manikyua mo onegai s.h.i.+masu_.” What the heck, Tam thought, why not go all the way, get a manicure too.

”_Hai. Dozo_.” Another bob as the girl ushered her forward.

There was the plush, padded chair. Big, gray, and voluptuous. She sighed and settled back. Heaven. Perfect peace in the middle of hectic Tokyo. She knew that here for an hour or so she would be an honored guest, smothered with attention. One of the most incredible experiences in j.a.pan.

While three of the girls began shampooing her hair, they went back to chattering about the new husband a matchmaker had just arranged for the pet.i.te a.s.sistant in the back. The bride-to-be was blus.h.i.+ng and there were plenty of giggles all around, hands over mouths. Tam realized, though, that the girls were being a little circ.u.mspect. Who was this strange brunette _gaijin_, speaking j.a.panese with no accent. Maybe she understood what they were saying.

She did.