James Clavell - Gai-Jin

Roofs all along the main street began to burn.

Less than an hour since the first bomb exploded, the Three Carp was no more, and most of the Yoshiwara burnt out. Only brick chimney stacks, stone house-supports, and brick, stone and earth fireproof shelters stood in heaps of ash and glowing embers. The odd cup or sak`e flask, most refired now, the glaze spoiled.

Metal kitchen utensils. Gardens ruined, shrubs scorched, groups of dazed inhabitants huddled around. Miraculously the fires had missed two or three Inns but around them was stark emptiness, ash and embers, up to the charred encircling fence and the moat beyond.

On the other side of the moat was the village.

It was blazing. Beyond the village, in the Settlement proper the roofs of three houses near Drunk Town were already alight. One of these was the Guardian where Jamie McFay had his new office.

Nettlesmith and their clerks were hauling buckets for Jamie atop the ladder who used them to douse the roof flames, the next house well afire. Other men, Chinese servants, and Maureen, bravely darted in and out of the front door carrying armfuls of papers, printing dies, and whatever was most important. Burning wooden roof tiles cascaded around them. Billowing smoke from Drunk Town, causing them to cough and heave, hampered them. Above, Jamie was losing the battle. A gust shoved flames at him. He almost fell off the ladder, then shinnied down, defeated. "It's hopeless," he panted, his face black-smudged, hair singed.

"Jamie, help me with the press, for God's sake!" Nettlesmith called out and ran back inside. Maureen began to follow but Jamie stopped her. "No, stay here! Watch your dress," he shouted above the noise, a shower of embers from the roof surrounding her, then he dashed inside.

Wisely she backed off to the sea side of the street, helping others stack what had been salvaged more safely. The whole roof was ablaze now and more embers showered Jamie and Nettlesmith as they stumbled out with the small, portable press.

Then, seeing the roof was beyond saving and the building doomed, Jamie hurried back to help him rescue type, dyes, ink and some paper. Quickly the wooden building became too dangerous to enter.

The two men stood outside and cursed, then stepped further to safety as some rafters collapsed.

"Bloody sodding fire," Jamie said, angrily kicking a box of typeface, then turned, feeling Maureen take his hand.

"I'm so sorry, love," she said, awash with tears.

His arms went around her and he said fervently, meaning it, "Never mind, you're safe, that's all that counts."

"Jamie, dinna' worry, wait till morning, then we can think better and properly.

Perhaps it's no' so bad."

At that moment samurai fire fighters trotted past. With signs Jamie asked one of them where he could get a fire mask. The man grunted, pulled a handful from his sleeve and rushed off again. Jamie doused them in a bucket of water. "Here, Maureen," he said giving her the first one, another to Nettlesmith who sat on a keg, on the sea side of the promenade, cursing mutely. The roof collapsed, turning the building into a blazing mess.

"Terrible," Jamie said to Nettlesmith.

"Yes. But not yet a disaster." The lean, older man motioned along the promenade. The north end of the Settlement was still clean of fire, Struan's, Brock's and the Legations untouched.

"With any luck it won't burn that far."

"This wind is killing us."

"Yes. We're safe enough on the shore side ..."

More fire fighters with axes hurried up, Dmitri amongst them. He saw their wreckage.

"Jesus, sorry about that," he said on the run, "we're going to try to cut a fire break."

Maureen said, "Jamie, go and help. I'm safe here."

"Nothing more you can do here," Nettlesmith said, "I'll watch her. We're safe here, and we'll retreat on Struan's if necessary." He took out a pencil and paper, licked the pencil thoughtfully, and began to write.

Their axes bit into the wooden shack, the buildings southwards ablaze, the wind hotter every minute and stronger than ever. They redoubled their efforts, then an ember-filled gust forced them back, then another, and they fled to safety.

Dmitri said, helplessly, "Christ, you ever seen anything go up so fast? They're all tinderboxes, death traps. What now?"

"What about up there?" Jamie shouted. He pointed nearer to the fence. They all joined his rush.

But the closer they got to the fence and the Yoshiwara, the worse the smoke and heat and fires became.

There was so little he or anyone could do. Nothing, in fact. The fires were spreading too fast, people running this way and that with buckets but the moment one blaze was extinguished, ten others began nearby.

Behind groups of dazed women and servants seeking safety, some with bundles, most empty-handed, the few remaining Teahouses flared in momentary blazes, so many moths around a candle, one moment alive, the next dead.

With almost everything of the Yoshiwara vanished under the bloodsmoked sky, men mingled with the survivors anxiously seeking their particular girl or mama-san and Jamie joined them, his eyes going from face to face seeking Nemi. He had not forgotten her. If anyone could escape, she would, he had thought. Suddenly he was not so sure. There were so few survivors here. Worriedly, Jamie sought a face he knew. None.

"Gomen nasai, Nemi-san, wakarimasu ka?" he said, asking if they had seen her but everyone said dully, or with degrees of bows and forced smiles, "Iy`e, gomen nasai"-- No, so sorry.

Dmitri reeled out of the smoke, coughing and gasping. "Samurai are damn good fire fighters, we could learn a thing or two, not that they can stop this shit. Have you seen Nemi?"

"No, I was just going to ask you."

"Maybe she's the other side, or over there,"

Dmitri croaked, his chest heaving for air, pointing towards the meadow that led to the racecourse, a few oil lamps there lighting the darkness. "Some of them are collecting there--some the other side. Listen, I'm going to work my way around, through the north gate and across the canal. You try the meadow. If I see her, what you want me say?"

"Just that I hope she's safe and I'll find her tomorrow."

They both ducked as fire jumped over them to fall on a village hut behind. In the confusion Jamie lost Dmitri and continued his search, helping where he could. Once Heavenly Skye rushed past, calling out, "Jamie, just heard Phillip's lost with the rest of the Three Carp."

"God Almighty are you sure? What about ..."

But Skye had vanished into the darkness.

The Legations that lay northwards were not yet directly menaced. Nor Struan's, Brock's, or nearby houses and godowns though the wind was strong and hotter by the minute. The promenade and streets were crowded, everyone preparing for a last stand, more soldiers and sailors coming ashore from the fleet that had first sounded the general alarm. Samurai poured into High Street from their barracks outside the gates with ladders and buckets, fire-masked, and efficient. In groups they trotted along heading for danger points.

Sir William, a greatcoat over his pajamas, had taken charge of the Legation defense. Down by the surf Pallidar was supervising dragoons connecting pumps to the sea through long canvas hoses. He looked back to see the General hurry out of the night, an engineer officer alongside, a detachment of soldiers with him, to stop in front of Sir William.

"I'm heading for Drunk Town and the village," the General said, out of breath.

"Plan to blow up some houses to make a fire break--with your permission. All right?"

"Yes, do what you can, it might work. If the wind doesn't drop we're finished, hurry!"

"Happened to be watching from the bluff, looked like three of four fires started in the Yoshiwara, same time, different areas."