Thomas Hoover - The samurai strategy

"Problem?" I turned to Ken.

"He says Matsuo Noda has given strict orders that the sword is never to be viewed by the public when disassembled." He shrugged. "Noda-sama, he says, has declared it to be sacred and therefore it must be displayed with the proper ceremonial reverence always. Of course we'll still be able to see it, but only after the tsuba is replaced. Perhaps later on this afternoon."

We'd come all this way, and now we were going to be stymied by some middle-management lab technician?

"Of course"-I bowed back, hoping to bluff-"weren't you informed why we are here? I have the honor to be Matsuo Noda's senior American corporate counsel. Noda-sama has ordered me to check and make certain the hilt remains in place while the tsuba is undergoing repair. So if you'll kindly open the case, I'll verify that and the matter will be ended." I bowed again.

"So desu." He turned pale. Obviously the grip had been removed. Whoops. I'd just bungled, creating a problem worse than the one I wanted to circumvent.

"On the other hand," I continued quickly, trying to recoup, "as long as it's locked in the case, I'm sure there'll be no problem."

Again he bowed, looking relieved. Noda had these guys scared.

"However, it will be necessary to actually see the sword, so I can report to Noda-sama that I have carried out his instructions. Otherwise Noda-sama may be upset, and I will be deeply dishonored."

Couching the ploy in personal terms seemed to tip the scale. He bowed again, hesitantly, then led us over to the box. Throughout my little white lie, Ken hadn't said one word. Guess he was as curious as I was to take a look.

"Do you realize what you are about to witness?" The senior staff man stood before us, his dark eyes haughty and grave. Time to put the barbarian gaijin in his place. "Physical proof of the divinity of His Imperial Highness, the Emperor of Japan. This sword is the most sacred object in the world."

I nodded reverently and moved to the side to let the head technician begin. He slipped a magnetic card into the handle of the steel case, punched in some electronic numbers on a pad there next to the latch, and slowly raised the lid.

Since photographs of the sword had been officially forbidden by the Imperial Household, I'd not seen even so much as a snapshot. Ken and I were literally holding our breath.

The interior of the coffin had been partitioned into a front and rear section, both draped with satin. First he lifted away the back shroud-to reveal a long gold box. That, I figured, must be the watertight case Noda's scientists had originally detected. Ken emitted a low hum as we looked at it. Gleaming, the purest of the pure, it had to be 24-karat, like something you'd find in the tomb of a pharaoh. Along the sides were some elegant, playful Heian-style reliefs. Birds, musical instruments, Shinto goddesses. Breathtaking, that's the only word I can find.

"It's beautiful." I was staring, dazzled. "And the sword?"

The technician hesitated. Guess we still had him worried.

"I'm sure Noda-sama will be pleased to know of your cooperation," I said soothingly. "There should be no difficulty."

He got the message. We weren't going to rock the boat. Wa. Harmony.

He nodded again, reassured, then reached down and lifted away the satin cloth covering the front section. Underneath was a bolster of deep purple velvet, and nestled in the middle was… the Imperial Sword.

Ken emitted a quiet, reverent exclamation, the hissed Japanese "Saaaa" that denotes pensive regard, and for a second we both just stood there. Dr. Kenji Asano was clearly awestruck. I was too.

As well we should have been. For one thing, it was a superbly well-preserved piece. The blade was delicately curved, and its edge could probably still do damage. A few flecks of rust were visible here and there, but overall it was in mint condition, just as Noda had claimed.

Even more interesting was that, sure enough, the grip had been removed while they worked on the tsuba. So we were being treated to a glimpse of the Sacred Sword the way Noda had specified it should never be viewed-except by a few crew-cut technicians there in the lab-with the nakago, the steel beneath the grip, exposed. We were seeing it all.

It's gratifying to report that his publicity people had told the truth: there was indeed no signature on the nakago. (I guess if you're swordsmith for god, you just naturally go easy on the ego.) That omission notwithstanding, it was definitely a first-class katana. Looked to be some kind of off-alloy, heavy on copper. If you had to guess what the early swords were like, say at a time in between the late-bronze and early-iron ages, this would be a knowledgeable estimate for appearance. The alloy was plausible; it was clearly very old; and with an antique hilt such as the one lying there, the overall look was very reasonable. I was impressed. Put the handle back on the way you normally see a sword and everything about it clicked.

Sorry, but out of habit I have to do something now. What follows is a technical description of the Imperial Sword, including the part usually hidden by the grip-which nobody else has been able to supply because nobody else had seen it disassembled as it was there in the lab. There may be some collectors who'd feel cheated by anything less. This was, as the senior staff man had sternly brought to our attention, a once-in-a-lifetime moment.

"Early Shinto katana. Very long and active sunagashi and utsuri extending into a kaen boshi. Slender nakago with one mekugi-ana. Shallow koshi-zori with chu-kissaki and bo-hi along either shinogi extending into the nakago…"

Enough. Actually, that last part made me a little sad. Truthfully, I think Noda was absolutely right. Nobody should sully the divinity of this piece by exhibiting it disassembled, with the grip removed. The problem is that anybody with the slightest experience might possibly have his faith shaken a trifle, since it's common knowledge that a tapered nakago, the sloping edge there extending back into the section normally covered by the hilt, didn't come into its own till around the mid fif-

"Mr. Walton, I hadn't expected you until later. You should have contacted me."

It was the voice of Matsuo Noda, directly behind me. I looked up to notice that the faces of all the technicians around the room now matched their bleached lab coats.

"Guess we need to coordinate better." I turned around and smiled.

Walton, I lectured myself, don't be a smartass, just this once. Be reverent. Who the hell knows how the Sun Goddess liked her nakagos tapered?

Besides, the simple truth was the Imperial Sword of Emperor Antoku really knocked me over. Superb workmanship, excellent balance, elegant shape. And overall, surprisingly good condition… well, except for one thing.

"It's almost perfect." I revolved back to examine it. "Except for that little scratch on the nakago. Too bad."

"What scratch, Mr. Walton?" He stared down.

"It's actually on the other side as best I recall."

There followed a long pause as Noda's eyes gradually narrowed to slits. Finally he said, "I wasn't aware you were so conversant with press descriptions of the sword, Mr. Walton."

We both knew the scratch on the nakago, on the side not showing, had never once been mentioned in the papers.

Which was as it should be. A minor blemish really. All the same I now felt very guilty about it. I do hope it was an unavoidable accident, like the metallurgy guys at the Princeton lab claimed in the apology that accompanied their bill after I shipped it down last summer for tests.

This was turning out to be quite a day. Seems New York's crime statistics were looking up; a theft had actually been solved. The son of a bitch was MINE.

"Ah, well, Mr. Walton, I trust you are suitably impressed all the same."