The Brazen Shark

by David Lee Summers

  Ōkubo led them into an adjoining room where chairs surrounded a table. The Lord of Home Affairs indicated his guests should sit. Lady Hayasaki left the room for just a moment, then returned followed by two girls who carried serving trays. The upper class in Japan did reserve some luxuries for themselves.

  “I hope you’ll forgive the sudden, informal invitation to dine,” said Ōkubo, “but I thought you would prefer to keep a low profile given your surreptitious letter to me.”

  “Surreptitious letter?” Ramon swallowed hard and looked around seeking an escape should this prove a trap.

  “Please don’t play coy.” Ōkubo leaned forward. “It was easy enough to determine the letter’s origin, especially since Lord Katsu’s automaton delivered it. He left one of the automata at your disposal and Lord Katsu’s secretary is quite adept at figuring out who sent a machine on a given errand.” Ōkubo reached out and took a plate. Using hashi sticks, he helped himself to fish, then handed the plate to Ramon. “Why did you feel you had to resort to such a ruse to get information to me about the Russian airship in Hokkaido?”

  “We feared you might waste time trying to find out how we got the information,” interjected Fatemeh. “We felt it was more important you should act.”

  Ramon took the dish and grasped his hashi. Although he had practiced, the sticks teetered and rolled in his fingers. He managed to push a piece of fish onto his plate.

  “Why do you suspect renegade samurai stole a Russian airship?” pressed Ōkubo.

  “We’ve been living through Russia’s invasion of America.” Ramon appreciated having a moment before attempting to use the hashi sticks. “The Russians don’t hit and run. They drop troops and take over. They have a way of… influencing people.” Ramon hesitated explaining about Legion or how Legion could influence their behavior. Ramon wasn’t even certain he could do justice to such an explanation.

  Ōkubo grunted and gave a sharp nod, then reached for a small plate. “You’ve made a case these are not Russians, but why samurai? Why not say, Chinese or Koreans?”

  “According to yesterday’s newspaper, the casualties were quite light.” Fatemeh lifted a morsel of fish to her mouth.

  Ramon nodded. “That’s right.” He grimaced, then composed himself. Such a hasty answer could reveal he possessed more knowledge than he could account for. “Whoever conducted the attack wanted to avoid hurting people.”

  “Interesting conjecture,” remarked Ōkubo, “though I have known samurai who are ruthless when trying to achieve an objective. What do these samurai hope to accomplish?”

  “I gather the restoration of the emperor’s power displeased many samurai.” Ramon’s stomach grumbled, but he resisted the urge to dig into his food. “Perhaps these samurai wish to see a popular call for the shogun’s return.”

  “Again, an interesting conjecture.” Ōkubo lifted a finger. “However, I might suggest it’s just as possible the Russians test our resolve, sending a minor strike to see if the emperor’s army has teeth before launching a larger assault.”

  Ramon had to admit the idea sounded plausible, but Fatemeh raised the doubt he harbored. “Why exactly would the Russians attack Japan?”

  If a woman’s question offended the Lord of Home Affairs, he gave no indication. Instead, he countered with a different question. “Why did the Russians invade America?”

  “They wanted oil and America’s resources.”

  Lady Hayasaki broke her silence. “Japan has many farms. It’s closer to Russia. Sapporo is a fine warm water sea port.”

  Ōkubo grinned. “My wife states the case well. It’s clear the Russians will lose much of the territory they gained in America. Perhaps they’ll get to keep Alaska, but it’s land much like they already possess. I think it’s possible they’re testing to see if there’s a battle they can win.”

  Ramon looked to Fatemeh, then down at his plate. He grabbed his hashi and lifted a bite of fish, holding his hand under the morsel to prevent it falling on the floor. Lady Hayasaki gave a sharp intake of breath and Ramon realized he must have committed some faux pas, but wasn’t certain what he’d done. The fish dropped. He stabbed at it with the hashi and popped it in his mouth, then swallowed it down.

  Ōkubo poured tea in Ramon’s cup. “Thank you.” Ramon took a drink. “If I may be so bold, what do you plan to do about the airship attack?”

  “I am the Lord of Home Affairs and will do what I must. I have already asked the army to send troops and the navy to send ships to defend Hokkaido.”

  “Then you don’t plan to attack Russia?” Ramon dared to hope.

  “That is more than I can discuss with an outsider,” said Ōkubo, “even one who appears to have Japan’s interests at heart.”

  Ramon frowned even though he appreciated the lord’s position. They were outsiders and this audience was remarkable. It pleased Ramon the Japanese believed in the possibility of a new attack and planned to send troops to Hokkaido. Perhaps if Imagawa attacked again, the Japanese would see the threat wasn’t Russian.

  “In our travels, we’ve heard of a samurai called Imagawa Masako.” Fatemeh took a new tack and allowed Ramon a chance to eat with the awkward hashi sticks while he thought. “I didn’t know women could be samurai.”

  “There have been many notable women samurai,” declared Lady Hayasaki. “The Tale of the Heike celebrates Tomoe Gozen, a remarkable swordswoman and archer. Lady Hangaku was another powerful samurai. Any bushi class noble may take up the sword whether male or female, especially in times of need.”

  Both Ramon and Fatemeh looked at her, then blinked and turned their attention back to their food when they realized they were being rude.

  “Like many westerners, you equate samurai with European knights,” explained Lady Hayasaki. “Samurai are landless soldiers a daimyo pays to protect the peasants who farm his land. It is a sacred calling and I am proud to be married to a samurai.”

  Fatemeh inclined her head. “I thought the Meiji Restoration meant the samurai were outlawed.”

  Ōkubo’s eyes glistened as he nodded. “The Meiji Restoration is a time of transformation for the samurai. We no longer fight for daimyos under the shogun. Instead, we pledge our fealty to the emperor and pursue other functions in society besides warfare.” He lifted a hand, and summoned one of the serving women. He spoke to her in Japanese, then continued. “I see a future where samurai head businesses and command industry. Samurai will no longer be mere soldiers. We will lead the world.”

  “Then what about this Imagawa? Who is she? Does she have a place in this new Japan?” Fatemeh leaned forward.

  “Throughout history, there have been women who have inherited leadership positions,” explained Lady Hayasaki. “Tachibana Ginchiyo ruled her clan after her father’s death. Yamauchi Chiyo assumed her husband’s mantle after his death, and led her clan to many victories.”

  “Then why does Imagawa rebel against the government?” asked Fatemeh. “It sounds as though she would retain her title.”

  “It is not so simple,” said Ōkubo with a shrug. “Samurai are expected to transform into new roles, they cannot expect to retain the old roles and be paid for service that is no longer required.”

  “Transform or conform?” Fatemeh narrowed her gaze.

  “Perhaps a little of both,” suggested Ōkubo. The serving girl returned and placed a bottle and two glasses in front of Ramon and the lord. Ōkubo poured milky liquid for himself and Ramon. “Imagawa would have to find a new way to make a life. I believe that’s what she truly fears.”

  Ōkubo lifted his cup. “I drink to our new friendship and our new understanding.”

  Ramon lifted the cup and took a cautious sip. He fought not to cough as he swallowed the strong rice wine.

  Lady Hayasaki stood and beckoned Fatemeh.

  * * *

  Lady Hayasaki led Fatemeh outside where the pine trees cast long shadows in the setting sun’s orange light. “I would prefer to leave the men to their nigori.”

  �
�They won’t get too drunk will they?” Fatemeh looked over her shoulder, somewhat worried about hauling a drunken Ramon back to their hotel room.

  Lady Hayasaki Masako smiled. “No, but Toshimichi hopes to loosen your husband’s tongue just a bit more to find out what he knows. I prefer a more direct approach.”

  “We’ve told you what we know.” Fatemeh folded her arms.

  “I believe you,” said Lady Hayasaki. “However, you have not told us how you know it.”

  Just then, an owl hooted from a nearby tree. Fatemeh squinted and looked for the bird. She walked down the steps into the soft grass, heedless of the pine needles poking her feet. She hooted back at the owl. The owl responded and fluttered its wings. She smiled and stood straight, then hooted again.

  The owl responded and flew off.

  “There are some who say I talk to owls.” Fatemeh’s gaze followed the retreating bird.

  “What did this one say?”

  “No one can speak owl as readily as you or I speak English.” Fatemeh turned around and faced Lady Hayasaki. “I know the owl likes life in the city because there are plenty of mice for her to catch. There are trees for her to build nests in. I know the owl is happy by the timbre of her voice.” Fatemeh took a step toward the porch. “Ramon used to be a sheriff in America. He needed to know the townspeople. He was in the army and he fought the Russians, who took him captive. We were both aboard one of their airships.” Fatemeh took a deep breath and released it as she put her hands behind her back. “We have no reason to deceive you. It’s just that everything points to the airship being controlled by Japanese who wish to foment problems.”

  “And your questions about Imagawa,” pressed Lady Hayasaki, “you think she’s the samurai behind the attacks?”

  Fatemeh considered the question and how best to answer it. “A friend named Masuda Hoshi told us about Imagawa.”

  Lady Hayasaki sucked in a breath. “He is a great samurai indeed. His departure was a loss for Japan.”

  “He came to America to be a farmer,” said Fatemeh.

  “That’s a waste.” Lady Hayasaki looked up to the darkening sky. “He could be so much more.”

  Fatemeh’s jaw tensed. “In America, farmers have risen to lead the country. Perhaps he did not wish to be looked down upon for his choice.” As soon as she spat the words, she regretted them. She wasn’t in a position to judge another culture.

  Lady Hayasaki nodded. “That would be Hoshi’s way. I suspect you’re correct about him.” She walked down the steps toward Fatemeh. “You are not American are you? Why did you move there?”

  “I wanted to be a healer and I could not be one in my homeland.” A partial truth. Fatemeh could be a healer, but it required marriage to a man she didn’t love. Now she was a healer and a wife, but by choice rather than decree.

  Lady Hayasaki nodded and Fatemeh noticed the gray strands in her hair and the small lines around her eyes. To Fatemeh, those features enhanced the woman’s beauty and power. “Never forget, Fatemeh, homelands change and sometimes they only change when we stay there and fight for it.”

  Fatemeh frowned, wondering whether she could ever return to her homeland, but she nodded.

  Lady Hayasaki held out her hand. “You should take your husband back to the hotel before he or my husband drinks much more.”

  Fatemeh followed Lady Hayasaki inside. There, Ramon and Lord Ōkubo sat at the table, eyes bright. “Why didn’t you say so to begin with?” asked the Lord of Home Affairs. “You know a samurai stole the Russian airship because spirits told you.”

  Ramon blinked at Ōkubo. “I never said…”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s obvious from your description.”

  Lady Hayasaki looked at Fatemeh. “I’ll summon the automaton.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The Power of Gods

  Ipokash roused Dmitri Mendeleev, left him a breakfast of dried fish and stale bread, then told him to dress right away. As soon as he’d finished his morning ablutions, a sharp knock on the door heralded the arrival of Imagawa’s lieutenant, Nanbu. When Mendeleev opened the door, Nanbu reached in and yanked him out into the corridor. Without words, the samurai pushed him forward to the gondola where the crew prepared for departure.

  Mendeleev strode to the window and blinked at the sight outside the ship. Men in Russian uniforms loosened the cables tethering The Brazen Shark to the ground. On closer inspection, the scientist realized the men were disguised samurai. They climbed aboard as Imagawa ordered ballast released. The autumn air had turned chill, allowing the ship to rise rapidly and high. Sparse cumulus clouds dotted an otherwise deep blue sky. Imagawa called an order and the compass needle drifted southward.

  Imagawa’s understanding of airship operations impressed Mendeleev. She watched Shichoroji at the helm for a moment, then stepped over and checked the ballast readings. Satisfied, she turned to Nanbu and asked a question. Mendeleev caught her eyes darting toward him and she spoke the word “Ipokash.” Apparently she had some questions.

  Nanbu turned and gave orders to a nearby samurai, who scurried up the ladder. A few minutes later he returned with Ipokash. Imagawa continued to scan the horizon through a spyglass. From their altitude, Mendeleev doubted she could see much detail below. Perhaps she admired the clouds.

  She collapsed the telescope, turned, then addressed the Ainu woman.

  “Imagawa worries the Japanese Navy may be stationed at Sapporo now. She wants to be seen, but she would also like to get away if they open fire. What is the best strategy?”

  Mendeleev nodded as he considered the problem. In normal flight, the airship took in air, which is heavier than hydrogen, to descend. It released air to rise. Both took time. The airship rose fastest if it released water ballast, but it had a limited supply. To Imagawa’s advantage, most sea-going vessels were not equipped with cannon that fired overhead.

  “Descend now and take on water,” suggested Mendeleev. “This will force us to fly low as we arrive, but if navy ships are waiting, you can release the water and air from the forward tanks. This will lift the nose.” He mimed the action. “Then apply full power to the engines while you empty the tail tanks. We should shoot upward as fast as we’re able.” Ipokash tried to follow along. She stopped a few times and corrected herself.

  Imagawa frowned but nodded, then turned around and explained the plan to Shichiroji with no pantomimes. He swallowed hard, then gave a sharp nod and said, “Hai!”

  The ship began a slow descent toward the ocean. When it reached the water’s surface, the crew deployed hoses and pumped water aboard. Once the ballast tanks were full, the ship began a long laborious ascent.

  Soon, Hokkaido came into view and Imagawa barked orders. Her hands lifted skyward and Mendeleev guessed she ordered the crew to gain altitude.

  They flew low enough the cries of startled fishermen reached Mendeleev’s ears. The Brazen Shark just cleared the tree line a mile inland.

  Imagawa looked from the clock to the ground. From time to time, she focused the spyglass on something below, then consulted the charts. At last, she looked up with grim determination and made a chopping motion. The helmsman shouted orders. The Brazen Shark tipped forward and Mendeleev stumbled a few steps before he recovered his balance.

  The scientist dared to take a few more steps toward the gondola’s forward window. Nanbu barred his teeth, but allowed him access. As Mendeleev reached the window, Imagawa handed him the spyglass.

  Just ahead, Japanese Navy ships floated in Ishikari Bay. Imagawa allowed the dive to continue until Mendeleev could make out people on the decks. At that point, she gave a command and held out her hand for the spyglass. The scientist passed it to her, then looked over his shoulder to see crewmen opening the airship’s bay doors.

  A few minutes later, several bombs splashed into the water near the warships and explosions sent water plumes skyward. Imagawa barked orders and The Brazen Shark shuddered as the forward ballast tanks opened. The nose shot skyward and Mendeleev
grabbed the rail in front of him to keep from tumbling. The ship shuddered as the mechanics revved up the engines and released more ballast.

  Mendeleev worked his way to the gondola’s stern to get a better view. Sailors on the ships below rolled mortars—the cannon that could lob shot highest—onto the decks.

  “Release the remaining ballast,” called Mendeleev. He mimed water falling and said “sploosh.”

  Imagawa shot him a look, then turned to the crewmen and gave them a sharp nod. They did as instructed and emptied the aft ballast tanks. The ship lurched upward even faster. Mendeleev’s stomach dropped and he fought the urge to vomit.

  Two mortars launched shells, but they fell far short of The Brazen Shark.

  Imagawa gave another order and the airship leveled off. Mendeleev released a breath he didn’t know he held. The scientist summoned Ipokash. “Did we achieve anything with those stunts?”

  Imagawa laughed when Ipokash translated. A few minutes later, the Ainu woman relayed the samurai’s short reply. “She accomplished exactly what she set out to do.” Ipokash shrugged, not understanding the objective any better than Mendeleev.

  The samurai leader strode through the gondola and issued orders. Soon the compass needle shifted just to the west of north. The elevator men opened the ballonets and took in air. The ship began a slow descent as it traveled over Hokkaido.

  Two and a half hours after bombing Sapporo, Imagawa handed Mendeleev the spyglass. Before them lay a peninsula and a bay, which opened onto the straight between Hokkaido and Sakhalin.

  When Imagawa turned away, Mendeleev handed the spyglass to Ipokash. “Can you tell where we are?” he whispered.

  She looked and frowned, thinking about it for some time. She looked again, then returned the spyglass to Mendeleev. “I think it might be Wakkanai, but I’m not sure.”

  Imagawa whirled around and smiled. She spoke to Ipokash, then laughed. The Ainu woman blushed and lowered her eyes. “She says I have a good sense of geography.”

  The airship descended toward the docks. Imagawa walked back to the chart table. Curious, Mendeleev followed. No one made a move to stop him, so he beckoned Ipokash. Imagawa stared out the stern windows and Mendeleev followed her gaze.