James Clavell - Gai-Jin

He had written: I know it's a long shot, Mrs. Struan, but Otami is as smart as they come, well connected as far as I can ascertain and represents the future in Nippon. Should you not agree, please take their passage money out of the most generous golden gift you have given me. In the meantime Albert MacStruan is doing well, your property and buildings here were untouched in the fire, and all is poised for a good future--I will continue to help if he asks. Last, may I say be careful of Brock's new manager, Edward Gornt. He's a good, brave man but a dangerous rival.

"This is going to be expensive, Jamie,"

Twomast said. He was a lean, short, hard-faced seaman, with dark hair and brown eyes and leathery skin. "At least a hundred pounds.

Is it worth the risk?"

"It's her ship, passage costs her nothing."

"It's still expensive and she looks after the pence as well as the pounds. Never mind, it's up to her.

I'll cash your sight draft in London town if she doesn't foot the bill. You're sure your Jappos understand they're to obey me?"

"Yes. I've told them that on board you're king, a daimyo. They're to obey you and stay aboard until you disembark them in London. But Johnny, treat them like nobs. You'll be rewarded."

Twomast laughed. "Yes, but in heaven. Never mind, I owe you one or two over the years past so I'll do it."

"Thanks." Jamie looked around the cabin.

Small, a bunk, chart table, table to seat four, neat, tough, seaworthy--like Johnny Twomast, originally Norwegian, and a cousin of Sven Orlov, the hunchback, who was Master of the Struan fleet after Dirk Struan.

Atlanta Belle, a thousand-ton merchant steamer, could sleep four first-class passengers, ten second, fifty steerage with room for substantial cargo. "Where will they bunk?"

"With the crew, where else?"

"Can you give them a cabin, don't mind how small."

"We've a full house and they'll learn fast with the crew, learn our ways, have to."

"Give them a cabin at least until after Hong Kong, I don't want either recognized."

Johnny Twomast said, "They can have the Third Mate's cabin, it's got two bunks. Are they armed, Jamie?"

"Sure they're armed, they're samurai."

"No arms, not samurai, by God."

Jamie shrugged. "Tell them, but please treat them as nobs, not natives, strange but nobs, important Japanese, they are you know."

"Mister!" the Captain called out. "Send them in!"

Hiraga and Akimoto came in, well briefed by Jamie.

"Which one of you speaks English?"

"I do, Anjin-sama. I Otami-sama."

"Mr. McFay here is guarantor for you, Otamisama, for your good behavior all the way to London. You agree to obey me, to stay aboard if I say so, to go ashore and come back as I say, until London town, obey me as if I was your chief, your daimyo?"

"We agree do what Anjin-sama say,"

Hiraga said carefully.

"Good, but no arms while aboard. I want all swords, guns, knives. They'll be returned to you." Twomast saw the flash of anger and marked it. "You agree?"

"But if men attack us?"

"If my men attack you, use your fists till I arrive. They'll be warned, fifty lashes for each man if they start it. You don't start it, understand?"

"No, so sorry." Jamie explained how the seamen would be tied to the rigging and flogged for disobeying. Appalled by the cruelty, Hiraga passed this on to Akimoto, then said, "But, Anjin-sama, you no fear? If man free on ship, after such insu'rt, no afraid this man assassin you?"

Johnny Twomast laughed. "He'd hang, sure as God made little apples.

Mutiny's punishable by death. I'll order the crew not to pick on you, you don't pick on them --that's important too, understand?"

"Understand, Anjin-sama," Hiraga said, understanding only partially, his head aching.

"Any trouble come to me. No fighting unless you're attacked. Your weapons please."

Reluctantly Hiraga gave over their bundled swords. And the derringer. "Mister!"

The cabin door opened. "Yessir?"

"These two'll have the Third Mate's berth, I'll show 'em."

Jamie got up and offered his hand to Hiraga.

"Safe journey, you can write anytime you like, and to Phillip... to Taira-sama. As I told you I'll write you care of my bank, the Hongkong Bank in the Mall. It's all in the papers I've given you along with how to receive or collect mail. Don't expect a reply for four months. Good luck and safe return."

They shook hands, Jamie did the same with Akimoto.

"You two come with me," Twomast said. He led the way down the corridor and opened a door.

"You bunk here and stay out of sight, Mr.McFay doesn't want you recognized. After Hong Kong it'll be easier." He closed the door.

In silence Hiraga and Akimoto looked around. It was more of a cupboard than living quarters. Barely enough room to stand together. A gimballed oil lamp spluttered dully. Two dirty bunks, one above the other against a bulkhead, drawers below. Soiled straw mattresses and wool blankets. Stench. Gum boots, unwashed clothes scattered. Storm mackintoshes hanging on pegs.

"What are those for?" Akimoto asked, numbed.

"Some sort of clothing but so stiff, how would you fight in those? I feel naked without swords."

"I feel like death, not just naked." The deck rolled under their feet and they heard men shouting orders on deck and others chantying, preparing the ship for sea, the engine loudly vibrating the deck and bulkheads, increasing their discomfort. The smallness of the space, and unpleasant smell of coal smoke and oil, stale air and staler bedding bore down on them. Again the deck pitched as she swung on an anchor and Hiraga lurched against the bunks, and sat on the lower one.

"Do you suppose we sleep on these?"

"Where else?" Akimoto muttered.

Sharp-eyed, he moved the crumpled blanket aside. All corners of the mattress were splotched with colonies of bedbugs, alive and dead, the rough canvas streaked with old blood where generations had been squashed. He managed not to be sick. "Let's go ashore," he croaked.

"I've had enough."

"No," Hiraga said through his own dread. "We have achieved a miracle, we have escaped the Bakufu and Yoshi, and we're launched into the enemy's heartland as guests, we can spy out their secrets and learn how to destroy them."

"Learn what? How to flog a man to death, how to live in this cesspit for months? Did you see how the Captain rudely walked off without returning our bow. Come on... even if I have to swim ashore!" Akimoto grabbed the door handle but Hiraga caught him by the shirt and dragged him back. "No!"

Akimoto snarled at him and broke free, to crash against the door, with no room even to struggle, then shouted, "You're not one of us, you're gai-jin infected! Let me go, better to die civilized than to live like this!"

Suddenly Hiraga was petrified. Time stood still. For the first time he completely understood the enormity of what he had launched them into: the outside, the barbarian world, away from everything civilized, leaving everything worthwhile behind, sonno-joi and Choshu and shishi and family, leaving no wife and sons--ah my brave and so wonderful Sumomo how you are missed, you would have made my leaving easier but now...

His limbs began to tremble, heart hammering, breath choking, every part of him screaming at him to flee this hell that represented everything he detested. If London was like this, anything was better, anything.

He shoved Akimoto out of the way and lunged for the door. But stopped. "No," he gasped, "I will bear this! I will! I'll bear it for sonno-joi. We must for sonno-joi, Cousin, we must bear it but whatever happens we will die like samurai, we will make our death poems, that's what we'll do, we'll make them now, now, then nothing else matters in this life..."

Ashore at the jetty the Bosun called out, "Last call for Belle, all aboard!"