Thomas Hoover - The samurai strategy

After three months' internment he was released a broken man. A week later he committed ritual seppuku, disemboweling himself for the crime of having disgraced the family.

Toshi Noda's diaries, published posthumously and read widely in Japan, revealed his deep repugnance for the wartime government. He believed that Prime Minister Tojo had become, in effect, a neo-shogun. Although the shogunate supposedly had been abolished when Emperor Meiji took control and opened Japan in 1867, Toshi Noda saw it restored with Tojo, another "shogun" who had come along and isolated the country once again. Nonetheless, he'd been a man of few words. His death poem, written only moments before he put the knife to his stomach, was as simple and intense as his life. Darkness upon Yamato, Land of the gods, Awaits the new dawn- Ten-no-Heika.

That last was a traditional phrase that, simply translated, meant "son of heaven." For a Japanese, though, the overtones are more; they say "the way of the emperor."

Subsequent history proved him prescient on several points-the main one being that militarism was a disaster for Japan. Also, he had rightly feared that the monarchy would become an empty symbol in the ruins of Tojo's hopeless war. Although he hadn't lived to see Tojo tried and hanged as a criminal, he had predicted the outcome of the war unerringly-and he'd insisted that his infant daughter be evacuated to Sasayama just before the Allies moved in for the kill. Because of his foresight she escaped the first firebombing of Tokyo, which converted the city into a giant death oven for eighty thousand innocent Japanese civilians too old or young to escape. America's pragmatic "final solution": Auschwitz with airborne incendiaries. The rest of Toshi Noda's family was burned alive.

Afterward Matsuo Noda had complied with another of Toshi Noda's wishes and made certain his daughter received a first-class education. Since she had a natural instinct for economics he'd encouraged her, rightly foreseeing it as a discipline vital to Japan in the twenty-first century. She had excelled beyond his fondest expectations; she was in fact brilliant. As a result he grew to dote on her, to an extent that eventually grew almost obsessive. He'd even made her his heir, since he had none of his own. His fortune was rumored to be in the tens of millions.

Probably the most important thing to keep in mind about Akira Mori, Ken had concluded, was that she merely looked avant-garde. Inside she lived in another age. In fact he suspected the reason she'd never married had something to do with the fact she was already wed: to the vision of Japan's powerful, sacred Imperial past.

On the trip down to Ise, Mori had silently sipped her green tea while Noda chatted with Asano about the costs and timing of commercializing the intelligent machines that would come out of the Fifth Generation Project. Although Noda stuck to generalities, it was clear he was totally conversant with the latest developments in the field. In fact, Tam found herself thinking, he seemed to know anything there was to know about just about everything. He displayed the same obsession with Japan's technological future that the old-time shoguns must have had about the goings-on of their vassals.

She also sensed that he and Asano were doing a lot of their communicating in a verbal shorthand, enough so that she began to suspect they had worked together before: they were like father and son, each anticipating the other's thoughts and conclusions.

By the time they reached Ise it was already late afternoon, but Noda's driver had phoned ahead from the car and arranged rooms for the night at the local spa, so they wouldn't have to go back late. She noticed there hadn't been any talk about the famous Sword, but she figured maybe he was saving that for dinner.

The museum Noda planned was to be built outside the shrine proper, just before you crossed the wide, arched Uji Bridge spanning the Isuzu River that separated Shinto's holy ground from the ordinary world. The shrine itself, a collection of thatched-roof buildings in severe traditional style, was hidden down a long trail among giant cryptomeria trees that towered hundreds of feet into the pale afternoon sky.

Attesting to the speed with which things can happen in Japan when there's the go-ahead from above, the location had already been staked and the trees cleared. Excavation for the foundation merely awaited Noda's approval. While everybody else stood around and waited, he consulted with the site engineer, checked over the plans, and made a few final changes. All the while, onlookers were bowing to him right and left. He'd become, overnight, an authentic Japanese legend.

After finishing with the engineer, he suggested they stroll on down to pay respects at the shrine itself, since they'd come all this way. Their burly chauffeur suddenly became a bodyguard, clearing the path ahead. Noda was expansive now, presumably confident his niche in history was secure. As they were crossing the wooden bridge, he casually asked Tam what she knew about the Sword.

A one-of-a-kind historical find, she replied. Important and fascinating. She'd seen the Emperor on TV…

"I assumed you would understand its significance." He was leading the way down the path. "Perhaps then you'll indulge me a moment for an ancient tale about it."

By now the entire shrine had been cleared of tourists and they were surrounded only by bowing and smiling priests in white robes: the VIP treatment. "The Imperial sword harkens back in a way to our version of Adam and Eve. Except, according to our own creation story, they were also the ones who created Japan; they were the original kami."

"The original Japanese gods."

"Well, perhaps 'god' is too strong a term, Dr. Richardson. I prefer to think of our kami as merely spirits of life." Noda shrugged, then continued. "According to the myth, the first male and female kami stirred the sea with a long spear, then lifted it, and the brine that dropped from its tip piled up and became Japan."

She caught herself smiling. "I've always wondered what Freud would have thought of that."

Mori glared at her in a way that suggested some offense at her irreverence, while MIT-educated Ken merely stifled a grin. Noda, however, took the quip in stride.

"Freud? Ah, yes, your philosopher. I seem to recall he's the one who regarded almost everything as some manifestation of our sexual appetite. Well, these are primitive stories, Dr. Richardson, that describe the beginning of life. I suppose they should be somewhat earthy, wouldn't you agree?" He chuckled. "Nonetheless, according to our early tales, the Sun Goddess-whose shrine this is-was created out of the left eye, the side of honor, of the first male kami, and the Moon God was created out of his right. Then they ascended into the skies."

She glanced up. The Sun Goddess appeared to be headed for bed, the sky itself barely light through the cryptomeria. The air was beginning to grow slightly crisp.

"Now we come to the sword. When the Sun Goddess finally sent her grandson down to rule over the mortals below, he brought with him the three items that became the emblems of Imperial rule. They were the sacred mirror, signifying purity, a curved bead necklace, used to ward off evil spirits, and the sword, standing for courage. The great grandson of that first earthbound immortal extended his dominion over all of Japan and became the first emperor. We are told his name was Jimmu, and the legends say that was around 660 B.C."

"So desu," Miss Mori interjected abruptly, startling even Ken. She seemed to be lecturing directly to Tam. "We all know our Emperor today is directly descended from him. In fact, he is precisely the one hundred and twenty-fourth emperor after Jimmu. Japan and the Imperial line were born simultaneously, and every Japanese is related to him. We are a monoracial state."