“Don’t think it useless!” Mitsuharu admonished. “You must find rest somewhere or your alertness will be dulled.”
“How does it compare to a Templar ship?” Susan slid a panel aside on one of the walls, revealing a compartment holding a black iron kettle and a rack of cups. “Tea?”
“ Domo, Sho-sa.” He knelt gingerly on a nearby mat, settling with a hiss of pain. Kosho began measuring matcha into the cups. “What I have seen of the Pilgrim matches the best the Fleet has put underway. Their captains-well, I’ve experience with two-are able.”
“Hm.” Susan whisked steaming hot water into the green powder. “Are you oath sworn now, to the Temple?”
“No.” Hadeishi tilted his head inquisitively. He could see Kosho’s attention was fixed on the molten jade swirling in the two cups, but something in her voice sharpened his interest. “I’ve command of the Kader under the terms of a commercial contract as a serving crewman on a Temple-owned ship-as salvage officer. But I am not yet a Knight of the Temple, or even a poor brother…”
She turned, holding a small enameled tray in her hands, and knelt as well, pale blue cups and rice cakes between them. “You wish to be?”
“They have use of my poor talents, it seems. As a salvage driver, if nothing else.” He shrugged, and then lifted his cup. “ Domo arigato , Sho-sa. It is good to sit with you again, even in such a strange place, so far from home.”
She inclined her head. “You’re welcome, Chu-sa. Magister De Charney would be a fool to refuse your talents. Not as a tug captain, either! I’ve recently reviewed all of the Mirror briefs on the Fratres Milites Templi -and while they have an excellent reputation in counterpiracy activities, and even in some border skirmishes-there is no evidence they have put main line-of-battle vessels like the Pilgrim into service before. Nor deployed ships displaying a countermeasures system which can handily defeat our sensors!”
With this, she paused, watching him carefully. For the first time in their long association, Mitsuharu suddenly felt a distance between them. She’s suspicious? Of me? Hadeishi set down his cup. And why not? I’ve arrived in the colors of a foreign power. Having been aboard the strike carrier for only a day, the Nisei officer had already grasped the leap in power and confidence of the Knights. Seeing the ship’s crew at work in the command spaces, in the medbay, even in the shuttle which had brought him over to the Naniwa, an old, old story from the naval history of old Earth had come to mind. A Danish admiral had once said, when judging his people’s many enemies: “Nothing shows the temper and ability of a nation more clearly and concisely than the crew of a ship of war-be it an aircraft carrier or an attack submarine-everything else can be disguised, hidden, faked… but not the natural camaraderie and interplay of an experienced crew.”
“Susan, I am still an Imperial officer. My name remains on the List, my commission stands. I can tell you this much of the Knights: the Pilgrim is a match in gunnery, speed, crew, and systems for any carrier in the Fleet. Her crew is dedicated, resourceful, and enthusiastic. And yes, I have seen with my own eyes-I have in fact used to excellent effect-an emissions dampening system which rendered a Temple-owned freighter invisible to Khaid sensors at point-blank range.”
Kosho did not answer immediately, setting down her own cup and adjusting the tray carefully. When she did look up, Hadeishi felt a tiny cold shock. Her expression was pinched and wan. “Do you think-” She paused, reordering her thoughts. “Has the Order decided to break with the Empire? Is the Pilgrim on a combat footing?”
“Combat?” Mitsuharu shook his head. “No, they’ve stood down. There are fighter wings on patrol… but I’ve seen nothing which indicates they are hostile to us.”
Then she did seem to relax, a brittle tension flowing away from her, and she raised the cup again. “Greetings, Chu-sa. I did not think I’d see you again, when we parted at Toroson.”
“I either!” Hadeishi laughed softly, feeling his heart lighten. “Who could have guessed we’d come together again in such a remote fastness, or by such a circuitous path?”
“Who indeed?” Kosho offered a faint smile, though her eyes were shadowed again. “It must have been fate.”
***
The temple bells were ringing the length and breadth of Kyoto, filling the warm night air with a glad clamoring sound. Uncounted voices were raised, singing a song of welcome and unbridled joy. Musashi nodded to himself, scratching at his stubbled, gray beard, and turned away from the huge mass of people thronging the courtyard. He passed under an orange tree whose branches were filled with chattering, laughing children-all peering wide-eyed at the steps leading up into the hall of Shishinden, hoping for a glimpse of the new Emperor-and then forced his way against the press of citizens flowing into the royal complex from the streets. Once beyond the Imperial precincts, the traffic eased and he sighed with relief. He shrugged his shoulders, loosening his muscles, tucked both arms inside his kimono, and found his feet on the great Nara road, heading west. The night sky was clear, showing the moon in quarter-crescent, and the stars were twinkling like jewels strewn on black velvet.
Breathing deeply, feeling free for the first time in a decade, the old man started home.
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Land of the Dead ittotss-3 Page 45
