"Taira-san," he had said weakly: "Need ba'f, massage, sak`e, you also, then food. Fo'rrow p'rease."

At first he had been worried that he had proffered the invitation. Now the village elder, the shoya, would discover he could speak English.

"Eeee, how wonderful to speak gai-jin, I wish I did, Otami-san!" the shoya had chortled with open admiration. "May I tell you again that I support sonno-joi, and also I have assigned the cleverest of my sons to a gai-jin bonze with orders to pretend to convert to their ridiculous beliefs so he can learn their language and their ways."

"You will make sure the servants are safe?"' "You will be protected like one of my family.

For extra safety I suggest you should hire the whole restaurant and order this Taira to speak only Japanese in the bathhouse. You say learns quickly?"' "V."

"Your secrets are safe with me.

Sonno-joi!"

Hiraga smiled grimly remembering the fervor with which the shoya had echoed him, believing him not at all. I wonder what he would do if he knew of our plan to burn all Yokohama. He would shit. But before even cleaning himself he would run to the Bakufu and bash his head to the earth in his haste to serve them and betray me.

Baka!

Tyrer was still eating voraciously. Though still hungry Hiraga toyed with his food following accepted Japanese custom and training, of disciplining oneself to be satisfied with little, there being more hungry times than abundant, to bear cold and pain with fortitude, there being more bad days than good, more cold than warmth so best be prepared. Less is better than more. Except for sak`e. And fornication. He smiled. "Sak`e!

Taira-san, kampai!"

This flask was soon gone. He pressed Tyrer to drink, pretending it was an important Japanese custom to toast each other. Soon Tyrer was happily telling about gai-jin wars, the extent of the British Empire, about the goods they manufactured and the amounts thereof. Because of Tyrer's sincerity--possible sincerity--and his "I swear it's the God's truth!"--he decided to accept the information, however frightening or preposterous until proven false. An hour's study of Tyrer's school atlas and maps had truly shocked him.

"But, p'rease, how can so 'ritter country 'rike Ing'rand ru're so many?"

"Lots of reasons," Tyrer said, warm and loose and pleased with himself and, forgetting for a moment to use simple words and ideas, he went on guilelessly, "lots of reasons, because of our superior education--superior learning, you understand?

--a superior heritage, a wise and benevolent Queen and our unique and special form of government, our Parliament, which has given us superior laws and freedoms. At the same time we're blessed, we're an island fortress, the sea protects us, our fleets control the sea-lanes for trade so we've been able to develop better skills in peace and quiet, to invent and experiment, we trade more therefore we've more capital, Nakama-san, more money than anyone else... and we're very clever at "divide and rule"--that's an old Roman law..." he laughed and finished the flask, "and, most important of all, I've told you before, we've twice the number of cannon, ships and fire power than the next two countries--half the world's ships are British, with British crews and British gunners."

So many words and ideas I don't understand, Hiraga thought, his head reeling. Romans? Who are they?

If half of what Taira says is true, no, a hundredth part, then it will take decades to catch up with them. Yes, he thought, but in time we will catch them. We are an island too. Better than them this is Land of the Gods, man for man we are tougher, stronger, better fighters, we've discipline and more courage and, most of all we must win eventually because we're not afraid to die!

Eeee, even today I can see ways to twist them that I could not have conceived a few days ago.

"Honto," he muttered.

""Honto," Nakama-san? The truth?

What's true?"

"Just think about what you say. So much truth.

P'rease, you say ear'rier... Kampai!" "Kampai! It time visit Yoshiwara, neh?" Tyrer stifled a contented yawn, weary of questions, but feeling grand.

"I not forget, Taira-san." Hiraga hid a smile. He had already arranged that Fujiko would not be available this evening. "Finish sak`e, last question, then go. P'rease, you say ear'rier about machines making machines? How is possib're?"

Tyrer launched into another enthusiastic answer, saying the British were leaders in what was nicknamed the Industrial Revolution: "The steam engine, railways, steel and iron ships, spinning Jenny, seed planters, mass production, harvesters, are all our inventions, sixty-pounders, submersibles, anesthetics, new medicines, navigation--four years ago we laid the first telegraph wire across the Atlantic, a thousand leagues or more," he said grandly, deciding not to mention the cable had burnt out within a month and, soon, another had to be laid in its place.

"We've invented electric generators, gas lighting..."

Soon Hiraga was giddy from the effort of concentration, and his desperate wish to understand everything when he understood almost nothing, but also because he could not comprehend why an official as important as Taira would answer any question an enemy would ask, forof course we are enemies.

I must learn English more quickly, I must. I will.

A gentle tap on the door and the shoji slid back. "Please excuse me, Otami-san," the maid said, "but the shoya begs a moment of your time."

Hiraga nodded briefly, told Tyrer he would return in a moment and followed the maid out into the alley that was empty and then into the busy street. The few pedestrians who appeared to notice him, bowed politely as to a merchant and not to a samurai as the shoya had ordered. Good.

The shoya was waiting in an inner room, kneeling behind the table, his arm resting comfortably on an armrest. A cat was curled beside him. He bowed. "So sorry to disturb you, Otami-san, but in case this gai-jin understands our language better than he pretends, I thought it best to speak here."

Hiraga frowned, sat on his heels and bowed back, all attention. "Yes, Ryoshi-san?"

"There are several matters you should know, Otami-sama." The strong-faced man poured green tea into little cups from the miniature iron teapot. The tea was superb, as rare as the eggshell cups, aromatic and delicate.

Hiraga's foreboding increased. The shoya sipped again then took a scroll from his sleeve and spread it out. It was another copy of the woodcut poster: The Bakufu offers two koku reward for this murdering revolutionary of many aliases one of which is Hiraga...

Hiraga picked it up, pretending this was the first time he had seen it. Noncommittally he grunted and handed it back.

The older man put the edge to the candle flame.

Both watched as the paper curled and became ash, both knowing that with his new haircut and rapidly thickening stubble Hiraga's disguise was very good.

"The Bakufu become fiends in pursuit of our brave shishi."

Hiraga nodded but said nothing, waiting.

Absently the shoya stroked the cat and it purred softly. "It is said Lord Yoshi is sending an emissary to negotiate with the chief gai-jin for guns. No doubt a Lord of his high rank would offer higher prices than, than Choshu emissaries." He added delicately, "Gai-jin will sell to the highest bidder."

Hiraga had heard about the Choshu samurai visiting the Noble House from Raiko--almost everyone in the Yoshiwara was aware of the negotiations --and he was sure if he knew their real names he would certainly know the men personally or their families. Only a year or so ago a stepbrother, who also had gone to the same English school in Shimonoseki, had been one of the team sent to buy the first hundred guns. Curious, Hiraga thought, that it should be to the same company owned by this tai-pan who will soon be dead, both he and his woman and this whole cesspit of evil.