Gai-Jin (165 page)

“Sinking a warship would inflame them, wouldn’t it?”

Hiraga blinked. “Like … like nothing else.”

“We use the church as a diversion, while we sink a ship, their biggest one.”

Dumbfounded, Hiraga watched Katsumata open a backpack. In it were four metal tubes, bound with wire. And fuses. “These contain explosive, cannon powder. One of them, fused, through a porthole or gun port, or attached to the side of the ship would blow out the side, two would be fatal.”

Hiraga was transfixed, all else forgotten. He reached for a tube. In his hand the bomb seemed to pulsate with life. At the top was the small hole for the fuse and in his mind he saw the fuse spluttering and his arm slip the bomb quietly through the lowest gun port, then another—then ducking back quickly into the boat that was largely hidden by sea mist, silently away, and then, safe, the vast explosion as the bombs ignited other charges and then the great ship slipping under the water.

And with it all his own plans.

“It’s an enormous idea, Katsumata,” he said, feeling sick. “We’d need to pick the correct time of the moon and the sea carefully, and plan carefully. Spring or early summer would be best. After that I could not remain here and…There’s so much to tell you about what I’ve discovered.” He almost blurted out that he could speak English well now but stopped. “Just a few more weeks and I’ll be done. Then the church and the ship.”

“We burn the church and sink the ship tomorrow night.”

“Impossible!”

Katsumata was coldly amused by his shock and thought what a shame Ori was dead and Hiraga alive—Ori was so much more superior. But then he, too, was Satsuma, not Choshu. “How many times must I say surprise is our shishi’s best weapon. That and decisive speed. Where is Akimoto?”

“In the village. I thought it best not to bring him now,” Hiraga said, his mind flooded. Since he had come back from Hodogaya he had not shared his innermost thoughts with his cousin, only that Katsumata had told him Sumomo was dead, betrayed by Koiko to Yoshi, not that he believed both had been thrown into the pit by chance. Like we would be thrown away uselessly in this wild-eyed scheme and all my work will have been in vain. “Tomorrow is too soon. I suggest we ma—”

“The church will be easy for one man. Akimoto. We will need a dinghy or small fishing boat. Can you get one?”

“Perhaps,” Hiraga said, answering automatically, fogged with myriad questions and dreads. “Perhaps I could steal one. Sensei, I th—”

“You are not thinking clearly. Fishermen always remove the oars when the boat is not in use. No need for that. Buy one.” Katsumata took out a small silk purse and put it carelessly on the table. “Hiraga, concentrate!” he said, his voice hardening. “Has living with gai-jin infected you so much with their evils that you’ve forgotten your oath to
sonno-joi?
Concentrate, the plan is good, the timing is perfect.
Could you buy a boat?”

“Yes—yes, but—but, Sensei, where do we retreat to?”

“Retreat is simple. Three of us, you, Takeda and me, we sink the warship. Then we beach the boat as near Yedo as possible and lose ourselves in the city.”

“What about the other man, the one who fires the church?”

“He will escape on foot.”

“We need more shishi in support, this is a major task. This whole area will become lethal.”

“That makes escape easier. Four men is enough. I will lead the attack on the ship and if tomorrow there’s a wind the burning church may torch all Yokohama, a further gift. Come back tonight, bring Akimoto and I will make final plans.”

“But—where’s Takeda?”

“I left him at Hodogaya. He will be here this afternoon. Until dusk, Hiraga.” Curtly Katsumata bowed a dismissal.

In turmoil Hiraga bowed back, too many years an adoring, awestruck student of the Sensei, master swordsman and tactician, not to accept the dismissal. He went out and stumbled back across the bridge to the Settlement, along the village street, later turned to the promenade and walked back along it, seeing nothing, his head a mess of dark thoughts and impossibilities, his future in tatters all because this Satsuma outsider was determined to shove destiny forward.

But the Sensei is right, he brooded. Those two acts would drive the gai-jin berserk, the fleet would invest Yedo, Yedo would burn, Yokohama would be decimated in revenge. In a few months fleets would come, this time with armies. By then shishi will not control the Gates, but all Nippon would be up in arms. And it would make no difference to the gai-jin.

One way or another we will have to open to their world. Gai-jin have decided. So they will have a base at Yokohama and other places—because they have the power to decimate our coasts and close our ports, forever if they wish, and no Divine Wind will help us.

“’Allo, mate, where you goin’?”

“Oh.” He was standing in front of the Legation. “’Morning, Sir Sentry. I go Taira-sama.”

“He’s not ’ere, mate,” the sentry said, yawning. “Mister Tyrer’n the Guv, they’s at Kanagawa.”

“Oh?” Hiraga looked across the bay. The seascape was wintry. He could just discern Kanagawa. A frigate, he recognized it as the
Pearl
, was steaming slowly offshore, against the wind, neat and deadly. In the roads the flagship with its forty 60-pounders, was at anchor into the wind. “I come back ’rater,” he muttered.

Disconsolate, he wandered back to the village. To buy a dinghy. How ever much he disapproved, he was shishi first.

Early that afternoon in the wardroom aboard H.M.S.
Pearl
Seratard clinked glasses with Sir William, congratulating the other again on the meeting.

“A marvelous step forward, Henri, old chap,” Sir William said jovially. He took up the bottle and rechecked the label. “Not bad for a ’48. Excellent repast too.” On the table were leftovers of the picnic lunch provided by Seratard’s chef: cold pigeon pies, quiche, crumbs of the French bread, and a few slivers of a devoured Brie that had arrived on the last merchantman from Shanghai. “Still can’t believe Yoshi offered what he offered.”

“I agree. Marvelous is the word. We’ll train the navy, you take the army, we’ll take banking and customs and—”

“Dreamer!” Sir William said with a laugh. “But we’re not going to quarrel about partitions, London and Paris will do that.” He belched contentedly. “It’ll come down to ‘how much’ in the end, for obviously we’ll have to lend the wherewithal to buy our ships, factories or whatever—however much they say they’ll pay.”

“Yes, but there’ll be the usual safeguards, customs revenues, etc.” Both laughed.

“There’ll be more than enough for both our countries,” Sir William said, still not quite believing it. “But do me a favor, Henri, please don’t bait the Admiral, I’ve enough trouble as it is.”

“All right, but he’s so … never mind. What about this Nakama? Astonishing. I think you were lucky he didn’t kill you by night, you are their number one enemy. What possessed you to take such a risk?”

“He wasn’t armed, he was helping Phillip with his Japanese,” Sir William said. As far as he knew only four of them, Tyrer, McFay, Babcott and himself, knew the man could speak English and there was no reason to share that secret. “He was well watched,” he added matter-of-factly, though another pang went through him at the thought of the danger they had been in.

“What are you going to do about him?”

“What I told Yoshi.”

They had all been shocked at Yoshi’s revelations—Sir William almost as much as Tyrer—particularly that Nakama was wanted for the murder of
Utani, one of the Elders, amongst other killings. At once he had said, “Phillip, tell Lord Yoshi as soon I get back to Yokohama I will begin a formal enquiry, and if the facts are as he says I will return him at once to the authorities. Phillip!”

But Tyrer, speechless with disbelief, was staring blankly at Yoshi. André recovered quickly and translated for him, they jerked as Yoshi snapped at him.

“He, er, Lord Yoshi says, You question my words?”

“Say, Not at all, Lord Yoshi.” Sir William had kept his voice level, for he had seen the eyes narrow. “But as you have your laws or customs, for instance your not being able to order this daimyo Sanjiro to obey you, I also have to comply with our laws, which the Treaty specifies clearly is Yokohama’s dominating law.”

“He says, Sir William, ah yes, the Treaties. In this new spirit of friendship he agrees to … to allow you the duty of giving up the … the assassin. He’ll send men to take custody tomorrow. About the Treaty, sir, he says, he said exactly, some changes are necessary, we can discuss them in twenty days.”

Tyrer said quietly, “Excuse me, Sir William, about Nakama, may I suggest that—”

“No, Phillip, you may not. André, say to him exactly: We would be honored to discuss matters that affect our mutual interests at any time.” He had chosen the words very carefully and breathed a sigh of relief when the reply came back, “Lord Yoshi thanks you and says, we meet in twenty days if not before and now will return to Yedo with Dr. Babcott.”

When the politenesses and bows were done and Yoshi had left the room, Seratard said, “William, I think you slid out of that trap cleverly. He’s cunning, that one. Congratulations.”

“About the navy,” the Admiral began hotly.

Sir William said, “First let me get Babcott and Tyrer on their way. Come along, Phillip!” and when he had got him outside he hissed, “What the devil’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Then why is your face around your ankles? Why do you forget your job is just to interpret and not make suggestions?”

“Sorry, sir, but about Nakama, sir—”

“I know it’s about him, for God’s sake, you practically shat all over the conference table! Do you think our wily host didn’t notice? Your bloody job is to translate what’s said and be impassive and that’s all. This is the second bloody time I’ve had to caution you!”

“Sorry, sir, it’s just that Nakama’s important and—”

“You mean Hiraga, or whatever other name he’s using at the moment?
Jesus Christ, he’s accused of murder. I agree he’s been a fund of information but God Almighty, a renegade outlaw? We’re lucky he didn’t kill us in our beds when you think he’s had the run of the Legation and your quarters.”

“What do you plan to do, sir?”

“Damn it, what I’ve already said: investigate and if it’s true, as I suspect it is, we are honor bound to turn him over.”

“Couldn’t you consider him a political refugee?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake! Have you taken leave of your senses? We demand reparations and the murderers for the murder of our nationals, so how the devil can we refuse to return to them one of theirs who’s accused and probably guilty of murder of one of their rulers? Yoshi promised him a fair trial.”

“He’s a dead man, that’s all the trial he’ll get.”

“If he’s guilty that’s all he deserves.” He had held on to his temper, for Tyrer had done a good job today and he had noticed the growing friendship between the two of them that had worked to his advantage: “Phillip, I know he’s been tremendously valuable but he has to be turned over to them—after I’ve seen him. I warned him in the beginning that he would have to go if they asked for him. Now forget Nakama and make sure you learn all you can about Babcott’s patient. With any luck it’ll be the tairō.
”

He led the way to the forecourt where Yoshi was mounting. Babcott waited beside a horse Pallidar had lent him, another for Tyrer. The honor guard was on alert surrounding them. At Yoshi’s order the porters stood away from their poles with the bundles attached, then he beckoned Tyrer who listened, bowed and came back.

“He said you can, er, count the money at your leisure, Sir William, please give him a receipt tomorrow. That man,” Tyrer pointed at Abeh, “will come for Nakama tomorrow.”

“Thank him and say it will be done as he wishes.”

Tyrer obeyed. Yoshi waved Abeh forward.
“Ikimasho!”
They trotted off, the porters and groom trailing.

“You all set, George?”

“Yes, thanks, Sir William.”

“Off you go then. Phillip, you did well today, a few more conferences like this and I will recommend you be upgraded to full interpreter.”

“Thank you, sir. May I be present when you see Nakama?”

He had almost lost his temper. “How the devil can that happen when you’re going to Yedo with George. Use your brains! George, give him an emetic, the poor lad’s witless!”

Babcott said, “I don’t really need Phillip. I thought it might be important for him to meet this ‘unnamed person.’”

“You were quite right, this meeting could be very important—Nakama, or Hiraga, whatever his name, isn’t. Phillip, has that got through to you yet?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Babcott leaned closer. “It might be a good idea not to hand over Nakama until we get back, just in case.”

Sir William had looked up at him, this thought jumping the medical consultation to a possible new level. “You mean they might try to keep you? As a hostage? Both of you?”

Babcott shrugged. “Nakama’s important to him. No harm in being wise, eh?”

Sir William frowned. “I’ll expect you back tomorrow.” He had waited until they were out of sight and then went back to the conference room.

At once the Admiral exploded. “Never heard so much poppycock in my life! Build them a navy? Have you taken leave of your senses?”

“That’s not up to us, my dear Admiral,” he had said calmly, “that would be up to Parliament.”

“Or much more likely Emperor Napoleon,” Seratard interrupted sharply.

“I doubt that, my dear sir,” Ketterer said, his face and neck puce. “Foreign naval matters are the prime concern of the Royal Navy and any French interference in areas of British influence will be dealt with right smartly.”

“Quite right,” Sir William said loudly, overriding both of them as Seratard’s face matched the Admiral’s and he volubly began to disagree. “In any event it would be a political decision. For London and Paris.”

“Political be damned,” the Admiral said, jowls shaking with rage. “A dozen of our best warships in the hands of those scallywags when you see what they can do with a couple of swords? I’m totally opposed!”

“So am I,” Sir William said smoothly, “totally, and will so recommend.”