James Clavell - Gai-Jin

"I was being polite, only doing what was correct!" Hiraga said in angry Japanese. "Those ill-mannered apes fell on me, I was reaching for the pass, it was difficult to find. Apes, I'll kill them all!"

Tyrer's heart was pounding and the sweet sick of fear was in his mouth. "Listen, we must solve this together, quickly. When Sir William hears about this he may throw you out of the Settlement! You and I must solve this, understand?"

"Iy`e! What is "so'rve" please?"

Tyrer was thankful to hear the "please" and held on to his fright. This fellow's clearly as dangerous and as violent and hotheaded as any samurai in Japan. Thank God he's not armed. ""Solve" means to arrive at an understanding. We must solve this problem, we must, you and I, how to have you live here safely. You understand?"

"Hai. So desu ka! Wakarimasu.

Taira-san me we so'rve prob'rem."

Hiraga curbed his rage. "P'rease, what sugg'st? Pass no good for so'dier. Men who see me, hate. How so'rve this matter?"

"First... first there's a good old English custom. Whenever we have to solve a serious problem. We have tea."

Hiraga stared at him blankly. Tyrer rang a bell and ordered tea from Chen, the Number One Boy who eyed Hiraga suspiciously, an ugly chopper concealed behind his back.

While they waited Tyrer sat back in his chair and solemnly stared out of the window, desperately wanting the other man to tell him about Fujiko but too well mannered to ask directly such a leading question. Damn the fellow, he was thinking, he should volunteer the info knowing I must be anxious as hell and not make me bloody wait. Got to teach him English ways, got to teach him not to fly off the handle, the soldiers were quite right. Got to make an English gentleman out of him. But how? Then there's bloody Jamie who's too damned clever.

After lunch he had gone with McFay to his office, was pressed to have a small brandy and then, within minutes, he found that he had told him everything.

"Och, Phillip, you're brilliant,"

McFay had told him with genuine enthusiasm.

"That laddie will be a veritable gold mine if asked the right questions. Did he say where he was from?"' "Choshu, I think that's what he said."

"I'd like to talk to him--privately."

"If he talks to you then others are bound to find out and then the news will be... will be out everywhere."

"If I know, Norbert knows, and I'll bet the Bakufu knows--they're no fools.

Sorry, but there are no secrets here, how many times must I remind you?"' "All right, I'll ask him. But only if I'm present when you see him."

"Now that's not really necessary, Phillip, you've got so much to do. I would'na want to waste your time."

"Yes or no!"

McFay sighed. "You're a hard man, Phillip. All right."

"And if I also get to read the last chapter, without charge, say tomorrow. You arrange it with Nettlesmith."

Sharply, McFay said, "If I have to pay the astounding sum of eight dollars, you have to contribute as well."

"Then no interview, and I'll inform Sir William." He smiled to himself remembering the sour look on McFay's face and then, "Cha, Mass'er plenty quick quick," interrupted his thoughts bringing him back to Nakama. Chen put down the tray, no longer carrying the chopper, but it was close at hand, outside the door.

Gravely Tyrer poured for both of them, added milk and sugar and sipped the scalding, iron black brew with relish. "That's better."

Hiraga imitated him. It took all of his willpower not to cry out from the heat, and to hold in what was the foulest-tasting liquid he had ever had in his life.

"Good, eh?" Tyrer said with a beam, finishing his cup. "Some more?"

"No, no thank you. Ing'erish custom, yes?"

"English and American, yes, not French. The French," Tyrer shrugged. "They've no taste."

"Ah, so ka?" Hiraga had noticed the slight sneer. "French not same as Ing'erish?" he asked with a pretended innocence, his fury compartmentalized for later.

"My goodness me, no, not like them at all.

They're on the Continent, we're an island nation like you. Different customs, different foods, government, everything, and of course France's a minor power compared to Britain." Tyrer stirred in another spoon of sugar, pleased with himself that the man's rage seemed to have dissipated. "Very different."

"Oh, so? Ing'erish and French warred hav?"

Tyrer laughed. "Dozens of times over the centuries, and allies in other wars--we were allies in the last conflict." He told him briefly about the Crimea, then about Napoleon Bonaparte, the French revolution, and the present Emperor Louis Napoleon. "He's Bonaparte's nephew, an absolute buffoon.

Bonaparte wasn't, but one of the most evil men ever born, he was responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths. But for Wellington and Nelson and our troops he would have ruled the world. Are you understanding all this?"

Hiraga nodded, "No o'rr word, but un'erstand." But he had caught the gist and this turned his head upside down, though he could not fathom why a great general should be considered evil.

"P'rease go on, Taira-san."

For a little while Tyrer did, then stopped the history lesson and gave him a lead: "Now to your problem. When you left the Yoshiwara those guards gave you no trouble?"

"No, pretend take vegitab'res."

"That's good, oh by the way, did you see Raiko-san?"

"Yes. Fujiko not possib're tomorrow."

"Oh. Well never mind." Tyrer shrugged, dying inside.

But Hiraga saw the vast disappointment and savored it. Sonno-joi, he thought grimly.

He had had to buy Fujiko's services himself but he did not mind. Raiko had said: "Since you pay well, though not gai-jin prices, I agree. But he should bed her the day after. I wouldn't want him to find another..."

Tyrer was saying, "Nakama-san, the only real way you can be safe here is to never go out. I won't send you to the Yoshiwara anymore. You must stay here, inside the Legation."

"Better, Taira-san, I stay in vi'rrage, find safe house. Inside fence safer. Each day I come at sunup, or when you want, teach and to 'rearn. You very good Sensei.

This so'rve prob'rem, yes?"

Tyrer hesitated, not wanting him off the leash but no longer caring to have him too close. "Yes, if first you show me where exactly and do not move without telling me."

In a moment Hiraga nodded and said, "I agree. P'rease, you say so'diers good me stay here and in vi'rrage?"

"Yes, I'll do that. I'm sure Sir William will agree."

"Thank you, Taira-san. Say so'diers also, if attack again I get katana."

"You will do no such thing! I forbid it, Sir William has forbidden it! No weapons, no swords!"

"P'rease you say so'dier, no attack p'rease."

"Yes, I'll do that but if you wear swords here you will be killed, they'll shoot you!"

Hiraga shrugged. "P'rease, no attack.

Wakatta?"

Tyrer did not reply. Wakatta was the imperious form of wakarimasu ka: Do you understand?

"Domo." With a contained violence that Tyrer could almost smell, Nakama thanked him again and said that he would return at dawn to guide him to the safe house, and would be ready then to answer any questions that he wanted to ask. He bowed stiffly.

Tyrer did the same. He walked out. It was only then that Tyrer saw the extent of the bruises over all his back and legs.

That night the wind became changeable, the sea choppy.

Out in the roads the fleet was snug at anchor and ready for sleep, the first night watch that came on duty at 8:00 P.m. already at their stations. Upwards of fifty men were in various cells for various offenses and with varying degrees of fear six were diligently making their own cat-o'-nine-tails for the fifty lashes they were due at dawn for conduct prejudicial to good order and military discipline: one for threatening to break the neck of a sodomite Bosun, three for fighting, one for stealing a rum ration, and another for swearing at an officer.