_. . . noon here in Tokyo, and at this shrine sacred to allJapanese, His Majesty, the Emperor of Japan (Cut to shot of theEmperor speaking. Reporter voice-over.) has startled the nation byannouncing that marine archeologists working for an investmentorganization called Dai Nippon, International have just succeeded inrecovering a famous symbol of early Imperial rule. A three-yearsecret project in the Inland Sea, funded by DNI, culminated fivedays ago when scientists brought up a watertight gold casecontaining what is believed to be the original Imperial sword. (Cutback to reporter.) Although no photos of the sword have as yet beenreleased, we are told it is in virtually mint condition. (Glancesdown to read from press release.) According to the ancient Japanesechronicles, this sword was given to Japan's first emperor by the SunGoddess Amaterasu-Omikami, sometime around the year 600 B.C., as asymbol of his divinity. Historians say it was later lost at sea inthe 1185 Battle of Dan-no-ura. That bloody naval episode, thesubject of much Japanese lore and tradition, marked the end ofdirect Imperial authority here and the rise of the first shoguns,military governors who would rule in his name. . . .
_
She rolled down the sound. Who needed some English press summary? Shewas watching the whole incredible event live as it unfolded. And herfirst thought was: Good God, that's like finding Excalibur, or maybethe Ark of the Covenant. Myth turned into reality. She glanced aroundthe salon, and already the electricity in the air was crackling. Butwhat happened next turned out to be the real news, the hidden agenda.
After His Majesty finished reading the letter, he passed it
to an underling and switched back to his ancient dialect. Now, though,his speech was being "translated" across the bottom of the screen intomodern Japanese.
He declared that since the Imperial Household, through the loyalservices of Dai Nippon, International, had had restored to it thatwhich it always possessed, namely the sword, he was pleased to honorthe firm by allowing it to construct a new museum to house the sacredsymbol at a site just outside Ise, home of the official shrine of theSun Goddess. On his authority, ground-breaking for the museum wouldbegin immediately. However, until such time as it was constructed andconsecrated, the Imperial Household would make the sacred relicavailable under heavy guard for viewing by the Japanese people in atemporary showplace located at the Meiji Shrine in Tokyo. . . .
By now shops had begun closing and the corridor outside was in tumult.An excited young clerk from the flower stall next door burst throughthe door and, bowing to everybody, lavished bouquets on all the girls.From the streets above came a cacophony of sirens.
But it still wasn't over. The most crucial part of all, totally missedby the Western news force, was yet to come. After His Majesty was bowedaway from the microphone, another official stepped forward to elaborateon the Emperor's remarks (probably because His Majesty would not deignto mention anything so crass as money). As reward for restoring thesword to His Majesty, he said, Dai Nippon would be allowed to serve astrustee of an official, honorary investment instrument, to be known asthe Eight-Hundred-Year Fund. Acting for His Majesty, DNI would directthose monies into endeavors "commensurate with the nobility and ancientlineage of the Japanese people, as symbolized by the sword." Then atelephone number flashed across the bottom of the screen. The currentsubscription would be closed after eight hundred billion yen werepledged. The president of Dai Nippon had asked His Majesty for thehonor of contributing the first billion yen personally. Finally, in aquick aside, he added that interest paid by the fund would of course betax-free, as was normally the case for savings accounts in Japan.
After a few closing formalities, interspersed with a photo session ofthe Emperor and the president of Dai Nippon, the historic occasionended with a reverential shot of His Majesty being escorted to hislimo.
Who was that silver-haired executive, Tarn wondered. The man wasaudacious, and a genius. He'd just turned the Imperial Household intoan accomplice in some kind of nationwide collection, using the Emperorfor his own ends much the way shoguns of old had done.
But she sensed he'd touched a nerve that went very deep. A fund inhonor of the Emperor (that's already how everybody around her in theshop was describing it), something in which to take pride, not just anumbered savings account at the post office. Suddenly the girls andtheir Japanese customers were all talking money. Here was somethingthey could do to show their regard for His Majesty.
A line was already forming at the phone. The way she heard sums beingpledged, she calculated Dai Nippon would garner five million yen, morethan thirty thousand dollars, right there among the shampoos andcurlers. The typical Japanese, she recalled, banked over a quarter ofhis or her disposable income. Little wonder most of them had at least ayear's salary in savings. At this rate Dai Nippon's "Imperial Fund"would be over the top by nightfall.
That evening NHK newscasts claimed it had been fully subscribed in thefirst fifty-six minutes. After all, eight hundred billion yen was onlyabout six billion dollars, scarcely more than loose change to a peoplesaving tens of millions every day. It was, in fact, merely thebeginning. The next day more "Eight-Hundred-Year" funds were opened, bypopular demand. Soon the pension funds started to feel the heat, and alot of institutions began calling up. Yen flowed in a great river. Allthose homeless Japanese billions knocking around the world had at lastfound a guiding ideal. Some rumors even claimed the Emperor himself wasactually going to manage the money.
Tam couldn't wait to get outside and see firsthand what was going on.This was something Allan could never in his wildest dreams havepredicted. As soon as she could get her hair dry she headed out; thegirls didn't even bother to charge.
Tokyo, twelve million strong, was in the streets. Even in normal timesthe city could be overwhelming, but now . . . It was in pandemonium, anadvanced state of shock. As she struggled through the crowds a lot ofmen were waving sake flasks, already gleefully smashed. The sidewalkshad become one vast _matsuri_, festival.
Something else, too. She found herself feeling a little uncomfortable.There were glares, and then as she passed a withered old man running anoodle stand, she heard him mutter "_Gaijin_." What did it mean?
What it "meant," she reflected with alarm, was obvious. The world hadjust become a brand-new ball game. Japan's long-silent Emperor had oncemore spoken to his people, just as he had at the end of the War. Backthen he had broken two thousand years of silence to inform hisbattered, starving subjects "the war situation has developed notnecessarily to Japan's advantage." This time around he had confirmedJapan's long Imperial heritage. The "meaning" was clear as day.
This wasn't a new direction. This was just getting back on track. Eventhough the Emperor had been humiliated and secularized after the GreatWar against the threatening _gaijin_, his people still thought ofthemselves as a single, pure family. For a time they merely had nofocus for that identity. Now they had it again.
Well, she thought, why not? National pride. Not so long ago weAmericans had the Soviets telling us we were second best, so we blew afew billion in tax money to plant a man on the moon and straighten themout. The space Super Bowl. Why should Japan be any different? For yearsnow they've heard half the world claim they're just a bunch of hard-driving merchants with a bank-account soul, when they knew in theirhearts it wasn't true. Now here's the proof, straight from the SunGoddess. Time to get crazy awhile.
In the middle of all the bedlam and horns and sirens in the street, sheyearned for somebody to talk with, somebody levelheaded enough to putthis frightening turnaround into some kind of perspective. That's whenshe thought of Ken.
Of course! He was Westernized; he took the longer view. Why hadn't shethought of him right away?
So off she went for a quick surprise visit with Kenji Asano at theInstitute for New Generation Computer Technology, research headquartersfor the Fifth Generation Systems Project. He and his staff wouldprobably be in a holiday mood, just like everybody else. Maybe he'dloosen his tie and give her a little off-the-record rundown of whatthis was all about.
&n
bsp; She knew the Institute operated out of the twenty-first floor of adowntown Tokyo skyscraper. She'd been there before. She still had theaddress, and the subways were clicking along right on time, though thefare machines were off now in celebration. Half an hour later she wasthere. She pushed her way through the milling lobby and grabbed anelevator.
As she rode, watching the lights tick off the floors, she found herselfwondering again what Ken was really up to. And what had happened to Dr.Yoshida? However, it was hard to think about something as boring asMITI and American defense vulnerability when people were whooping it upand passing around paper cups of sake right there on the elevator.
Well, don't jump to conclusions. This paranoia of Allan's is probablyjust some grotesque misreading. Dr. Yoshida got promoted, and Ken'smerely filling in for a while till the Institute can recruit a newdirector from some university. The work here's too important forpolitics. Intelligent computers are Japan's lifeline--the "steam engine"of the next century.
How would Ken react to her just showing up? After all, Kyoto was twoyears ago. He'd claimed to be a widower, but was that merely conferencefast talk?
Best thing is just to play it straight, she told herself. Strictlybusiness. Let the rest fall out in time.
As she stepped off the elevator, she was relieved to see that theoffices were still open. Well, she thought, my first finding is thatKen Asano runs this place with an iron hand, just the way Yoshida did.Total dedication. Through floor-to-ceiling glass doors she could seethe receptionist at the desk, now excitedly chatting on the phone. Tamwaved, and the smiling woman immediately buzzed her through. Just likethat. No different from the last time.
Doesn't look to be any MITI conspiracy here, she thought. What exactlyhad made Allan so worried?
She bowed and handed over her meishi, her business card.
"_Asano-san, onegai shimasu_."
The Samurai Strategy Page 7
