When we have managed to sift all your brilliant thoughts and ideas, perhaps I could have an opportunity to ask a few insignificant questions?"

"Certainly," Hiraga said, exultant with the rosy future. The more questions the better--they will force me to understand first. "Perhaps when you hear more about Ogama and Yoshi, or the shishi, or that woman.

Shuriken you said?"

"I will do my best," the shoya answered, knowing a deal had been struck. Then his mind took him back to a missing, essential piece of the puzzle. "Please, may I ask, what is this kompeni. What is it, what does it look like?"

"I don't know," Hiraga said, equally perplexed.

"Good of you to be punctual, Mr. Struan,"

Admiral Ketterer said gruffly, "not normal for, er, traders." He was going to say "tradesmen" but decided there was plenty of time to bring him to deliver the broadside. "Take a seat. Sherry?"

"Some dry sack, thank you, Admiral."

The orderly poured a glass, replenished the Admiral's port and left. They lifted their glasses, no love lost between either of them. The desk was clear of papers, except for an official document, an opened envelope and a letter in his mother's writing. "What can I do for you?"

Malcolm asked.

"You know that some of my sailors were killed by Chinese pirates, firing shore-based British cannon during our Mirs Bay engagement. British cannon."

"I've read the news reports, but I don't know for certain if they were British manufacture."

"I do. Made sure myself." Sourly the Admiral picked up the document. "The Governor's initial investigation suggests the probable culprits were either Struan's or Brock's."

Malcolm looked back at the older, florid-faced man, unafraid. "He can suggest what he likes, Admiral Ketterer, but any formal accusation had better be backed by proof or we would be very upset, and the Brocks apoplectic. I know of no such deal and in any event sale of armaments are not forbidden by Parliament. Does Norbert Greyforth?"

Jamie had warned him that Greyforth had also been summoned by the Admiral at 10:30, but had not appeared until 11:00 A.m. and that meeting had lasted barely three minutes.

Ketterer's neck reddened, remembering Greyforth's inflammatory response. "No.

That, that impertinent fellow declined to discuss the matter. Do you?"

"I don't know what you want to discuss, Admiral."

"The matter of the importation and selling of cannon and armaments to the natives here. And warships. And opium."

Malcolm said carefully, "Struan's are China traders and we trade according to British law. None of those articles are forbidden by law."

"Opium soon will be," the Admiral snapped.

"When it is, then that trade ceases."

"It's against Chinese law now, and native law here!"

"Struan's are not, I repeat not trading in opium here, even though it is not, I repeat not, against British law."

"But you do admit the trade's pernicious and immoral."

"Yes, but at the moment approved by Her Majesty's Government and unfortunately the only commodity we can barter for China's tea, from which Parliament derives huge taxes."

"I'm well aware of the China problem. I would like you and your company to anticipate the law now by agreeing voluntarily never to import opium into Japan."

"We're not trading in it here."

"Good. If I find any ships carrying opium I intend to confiscate the cargo and the ship."

"I'd say you do so at your legal peril, Admiral. Has Sir William agreed or approved your intention?"

"Not yet. I would like you and the other trades-- other traders to do so willingly. The same with breech-loading rifles, cartridges, cannon and warships." "Did Greyforth agree to such an astonishing proposal?"

The neck went crimson. "No."

Malcolm thought a moment. He and Jamie had reasoned in advance that this was what the Admiral had in mind. Apart from his mother's letter. "We have a meeting with Sir William in a few days," he said. "I'd be honored if you'd attend as my personal guest. All traders would hear you out."

"My views are already well known. You traders of all people should know which side of your bread is buttered, that without the fleet to protect you and your trade routes, you're helpless. If you supply natives with cannon you threaten the Royal Navy, you'll be helping to sink your own ships, murder your own countrymen and yourselves to boot!"

"If you take the example of India or any of the oth--"

"My whole point, Mr. Struan!" the Admiral slammed at him. "Without natives having our armaments the Mutiny would never have happened, revolts everywhere would be more quickly contained, savages all over the world could be more easily and properly educated, useful trade would be conducted in peace and world order would flourish in the benevolence of the Pax Britannica. And miserable, fornicating pirates would not have the means to fire on my flagship by God! And without the Royal Navy ruling the seas, by God, there's no Pax Britannica, no British Empire, no trade and we'll be back in the Dark Ages!"

"Confidentially you're quite right, Admiral,"

Malcolm said with abject pretended fervor, following Uncle Chen's advice: "When a mandarin is furious with you, for whatever reason, quickly agree "confidentially" he is right, you can always assassinate him later when he's asleep."

Over the years he had been involved in the same argument with Army, Navy and government officials. And witnessed his father and mother quarreling, his father for free trade and his mother for morality, his father raging about the insolvable opium triangle, his mother vehemently against opium even so--and sales of arms--truth on both sides, both inflexible, the quarrel always ending with his father drinking himself into a stupor and his mother smiling with that fixed, infuriating smile that nothing would dislodge, his father's final barb always: "my Old Man--and your Prince Charming--the Great Green-eyed Devil Dirk himself started the trade and we've flourished on it so help us God!"

Many the time he had wondered--but never dared to ask--if she had really been in love with the father and not the son, had settled for the son because the father would not. He knew he would never ask and if he did she would just smile that fixed smile of hers and say, "Malcolm, don't be absurd."

"Confidentially, you're right, Admiral," he repeated.

Ketterer choked on his port and poured some more.

"Well, that's something by God!" He looked up.

"Then you'll make sure Struan's does not engage in arms sales here?"

"I will certainly take everything you said under advisement and consult with my fellow traders."

Ketterer took out a handkerchief and blew his nose, took a pinch of snuff, sneezed and blew his nose again. When his head had cleared his baleful eyes looked at the young man, irritated that he could perceive no weakening. "Then let me put it another way. Confidentially, you agree to help Jappos to acquire cannon, British cannon, any bloody cannon or British warships is stupid?"

"For them to have a comparable navy would be wr--"

"A disaster, sirrah! Total disaster and stupid!"

"I agree."

"Good. I would like you to persuade all other traders to your opinion: no arms here, particularly cannon, of course no opium.

Confidentially of course."

"I'd be glad to put forward those opinions, Admiral."

Ketterer snorted. Malcolm began to get up, not wanting to be cornered. "A moment, Mr.Struan, another matter, before you go. A private matter." The Admiral motioned at the envelope and letter on his desk. "Th. From Mrs.Struan. You know what it's about?"

"Yes, yes I do."

Ketterer moved the letter to the center of his desk.

"Your Noble House is supposed to be first in Asia, though I'm told Brock's are pulling ahead of you now. Never mind which, you could be a conduit for good. I would like you and your company to assist me in this just cause. Just, Mr.Struan."