Thomas Hoover - The samurai strategy

"Next, another woman tried to jump overboard with the casket holding the sacred mirror, but an arrow pinned her hakama to the gunwales, and the Genji soldiers retrieved it. All we know of what happened next is the dispatch they sent back to the new rulers in Kyoto, which declared, 'The former emperor is at the bottom of the sea, and the sacred mirror has been recovered. But the sword is lost and a search is being made.'" He turned and nodded toward Noda. "Only tonight, eight centuries later, can the rest be told. At last, the sword has been restored to Us."

Noda bowed low and offered a toast to the Imperial line.

It was then that Akira Mori first spoke. Although she addressed her words to Tam, they were obviously meant for His Majesty. "Richardson-san, recovering the sword is a more important historical event than many realize. Its loss coincided with the end of Imperial power in Japan. After that, the emperor became a figurehead, a captive of the shoguns." She shot a quick glance at Noda. "If the sword means nothing else, it should remind us all that no shogun must ever be allowed to rise again."

What's she driving at? Tam wondered.

"Of course." His Majesty took up the theme. "Although there was a time in this century when the militarists once again made a tool of the emperor of Japan, I agree it was wrong." He looked at Mori with admiration. "The respect your words show for the Imperial house of Yamato touches me deeply."

While she bowed in acknowledgment, he turned to Noda. "In the same manner, Noda-san, Japan's important place in the modern world brings special respect to Us as well. For that We must thank you and all those helping to fashion the new Japan,"

Tam watched Noda, puzzling. Something was going on, some kind of coded cross-talk she didn't fully comprehend. Shogun. Emperor. What was everybody's unspoken agenda?

At that point His Majesty rose unsteadily and announced he had a heavy day ahead, whereupon he summarily bade everyone good evening and exited, Imperial Household guards in attendance. Tam noticed that Mori watched his departure with a wistful… worshipful, gaze.

After he was gone, a reverent stillness settled around them. Even Ken, normally talkative, was subdued. What's going on here? she puzzled. One thing was sure: Japan was like a magical onion, with layers to be peeled away slowly. Each time you learn something new, yet you never really get to the core.

When the last dishes had been cleared and nothing remained on their low table except fresh kettles of sake, Noda leaned back and broke the silence. She realized he was speaking to her. Matsuo Noda, it quickly came to light, was fully familiar with her books.

But that was merely the beginning. Next, Akira Mori, who'd been quietly waiting her turn, joined in.

"Were you moved by the story of the nurse who threw herself into the waves, Richardson-san? The one who sacrificed her own life to honor her ideals?"

"It was a very touching account." Tam looked at her, surprised by the sudden friendliness. "I understand even more now why everybody's so excited about the sword."

"Presumably you know," Mori continued evenly, "that the young emperor's nurse was undoubtedly Fujiwara. Perhaps of low rank, but nonetheless a member of the family that historically has been closest to the throne."

"Of course, the Fujiwara were always Imperial retainers-"

"Have you taken no interest in that family?" Mori continued, her face still revealing nothing.

"I… no, not really?" Tam studied her.

"Perhaps you should, Dr. Richardson." She switched to flawless English. "Are you aware that your own mother was Fujiwara? In fact, it is possible that in your veins runs the same blood as the nurse who gave her life for the emperor that April day eight hundred years ago."

Tam felt a numbness sweep over her. She'd never thought much about her real mother, or father. Naturally there would have been no way of tracing him, at least none she knew. But of course there'd be full records of the woman who bore her, then put her up for adoption. For some reason Mori-or was it Noda himself?-had had them looked up. They'd uncovered something about her that she herself had never wanted, for well-examined reasons, to explore. Her adoptive parents had been all anybody could desire. Why stir up unknowns? Besides, she believed in nurture, not nature.

"You both seem to know a great many things about me." Her glance shifted back and forth between them. She was surprised, yes, but if they'd assumed she'd be stunned, they were wrong. She'd decided long ago not to let herself care.

"Although your true mother no longer lives, you are most certainly Fujiwara," Mori went on. "You have blood ties with the family that once stood ready to give its life for the emperor. Therefore you may even have a connection with the sword itself."

Noda moved in. "We also believe, Dr. Richardson, that you, because of your work, could have a vital role in the endeavor Dai Nippon will soon undertake. That is the reason we want to speak with you tonight."

At last, Tam thought. I'm finally going to find out why Matsuo Noda "accidentally" happened to ask me along.

"I've been waiting to hear this."

Since the fusuma sliding doors were drawn closed, shutting out the serving women, Noda breached conventional etiquette and reached across the table to pour more sake into Tam's tiny Shino dish himself. Ken merely looked on silently as Mori took up Noda's theme.

"We would like you to be part of something that would do honor to your Fujiwara heritage, Dr. Richardson, the noble family that so long served the emperor."

"I may or may not be Fujiwara, Mori-san, but I already have my work."

"Dr. Richardson, do hear us out," Noda interjected, pressing. "We wish to advise you that important, even potentially disruptive events, lie ahead for America. Very soon. And we would like very much for someone such as yourself, a pragmatist, to be involved. Especially since, in addition to your professional skills, you are in a position to understand the cultures, the attitudes, of both Americans and Japanese. Your assistance could be invaluable."

"Invaluable for what purpose?"

"A worthy undertaking, we assure you. Think of it if you will as an attempt to prevent Japan and the West from going to war with each other again."

She looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to fathom what they were driving at. Then Noda continued, revealing again that nothing had happened by chance.

"We brought you here today to Ise to remind you of the importance of your Japanese heritage. A heritage whose sole purpose is, like Shinto itself, the peace and ordering of the world."

"What's this all about?" She looked at Ken, in a black silk kimono, serenely sipping his sake and looking the essence of cultivated, tantalizing otherness. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

He carefully set down his Shino dish and smoothed his long sleeve. "I did have occasion to remind Noda-sama that you have a unique combination of background and expertise, Tamara, that could be very instrumental in the realization of his objectives."

"And what are his objectives?" She looked back at Noda. "Your objectives?"

"You, Dr. Richardson, should appreciate this better than anyone." He studied his sake saucer. "There are things the West excels at doing, and there are areas, I trust it is not improper to say, in which we Japanese have demonstrated aptitude. Why should we compete in each other's spheres? It leads only to divisiveness. We open ourselves to predators- from the steppes of the Caucasus to the oil-rich deserts of Araby. But if we join together, the peoples of Japan and America can achieve insurmountable strength."

"You're talking about something that would more properly be in the realm of diplomacy, Noda-san."