"Shoya, send out all spies in case that is Anjo's plan."

"Spies, Otami-sama?"

Hiraga said, "The time is now to stop playing games. Shoya. You understand? No-more-games!"

"I obey in everything, Otami-sama. As usual, as I ha--"

"You did very well tonight, shoya. The moment you hear anything about Yoshi or shishi, send me word, please." Hiraga added the "please" as a major concession.

"As quick as a hunting sea bird, Sire."

"Good night then--ah, so sorry, I forgot, there is the gai-jin's fee. He asked me to remind you."

The shoya's stomach turned over. From his sleeve he extracted a small bag--it would have been very bad manners to give it to Jami-sama direct. "Here is the equal in gold oban for one and a half koku, Otami-sama, the rest in ten days."

Hiraga shrugged and casually put it in his own sleeve, but the weight of it and the joy of it astonished him. "I will tell him, and see he is here in three days."

"Thank you, Otami-sama. These troop movements, terribly worrisome. War is coming.

My Masters say if they could have advance warning of gai-jin plans... they would appreciate deeply any help. Perhaps your Taira-sama ..." Hopefully, he left the name hanging.

Another message from Head Office in Osaka had arrived today, more urgent than the last.

As if I cannot read? the shoya thought angrily, as if I'm uncaring and disloyal. I do everything I can. It is those two cursed mama-sans. Two days and still nothing from them!

Before he had left Raiko and Meikin he had impressed on them his urgent need to know everything they knew, or could find out, quickly. His anger began to increase, not only because the two women had pretended to know nothing however much he cajoled them, even though he was sure that they already had an inkling, but also because his precious gold oban were in this rapacious samurai's sleeve, fees, however well earned for an equally rapacious gai-jin.

And where will all my lovely oban end up? Of course in some whore's Golden Gully.

"Thank you so much, Otami-sama," the shoya said unctuously, as Hiraga left, keeping his head on his tatami to hide the gnashing of his few remaining broken teeth, wanting to humble Hiraga, make him sweat, telling him, not sorry at all: oh so sorry, your late whore Koiko was implicated in the plot, so was your trained female assassin and wife-to-be Sumomo who had her head chopped off too, and your shishi supporter Meikin, mama-san to the most important men in Yedo--even Gyokoyama leaders--is not long for this earth because we surmise Yoshi knows all this too.

And though you're the cleverest samurai I've known, you're doomed doomed doomed, and yet my illustrious superiors expect me to treat you as a National Treasure and keep you alive as well. Oh ko!

Tonight I shall get drunk, but not before congratulating myself on the imminent formation of the Ryoshi Joint-u Ven'shur Stoku Kompeni! Eeee, an idea worthy of gods!

Walking home, Jamie McFay loosened his top coat though the evening air was cold. He was warm. The knowledge gained was substantial and his concentration had driven away his cares. All very interesting, he thought, but neither of those two have any idea of the initial costs of mass production.

And yet the way Nakama said Gyokoyama could buy and sell Yedo if they wanted, for the moment I really believed it. The shoya will go for a joint venture, I'm sure of it.

His step was brisk and he greeted others walking the High Street and went up the Struan steps, into his domain. It's mine again, he thought, with pride. Perhaps Tess will change her mind now--she's no fool and I've done a good job.

Vargas was waiting.

"Evening, Vargas, time to lock up?"

"Yes, but first, senhor, sorry, but these came in yesterday's mail but, somehow, were in my In tray."

Both letters were marked Personal and Confidential and addressed to him. The first was in Tess Struan's writing. His stomach heaved.

The other was from Maureen Ross, his er/while fiancee. His unease doubled. "Thanks," he said. In spite of his resolve to wait, he could not and tore Tess's letter open. This is to inform you formally that Mr. Albert MacStruan is transferred from Shanghai, arriving by steamer, Wayfong, on the 17th. Please acquaint him with all Japanese operations. Subject to your noncompliance with previous letters he assumes control at the end of December.

His dismissal from the Noble House, now that it was in effect, did not anger him as he expected.

In fact he was relieved. Weird, just a few moments ago I thought it was my...

He looked up at Vargas who was watching narrowly. "What else, Vargas?" He folded the letter and put it on his desk with the other one.

"Mrs. Angelique is in the tai-pan's office. She asked if you could you see her for a moment?"

"What's up now?"

"Nothing that I know of, senhor, the evening has been peaceful. A message arrived from your Nemi, asking if you would be visiting later. One small other matter, Captain Strongbow again asked for sailing orders. Again I told him to be patient. It will be on the evening tide?"

"Yes. I think so. Send word to Nemi: Perhaps."

"At once, senhor. Then it's decided? The tai-pan's remains will go with Cloud? And of course the Senhora?"

"Either by clipper, or the mail ship, one or the other," he said, walked along the corridor, knocked and went in.

She was curled in Malcolm's chair, which Jamie was coming to think of as her own, reading the Guardian by oil light. "Hello, Jamie."

"Evening. I've decided to go with you and the mail ship," he tried unsuccessfully not to sound blunt, "it's my job to explain to Tess Struan." Having said it, he felt better.

"It's my job and I think Mal--I think he would like me to do that, and it might spare you a little."

"Yes," she said with her sweet smile, "I'm sure he would. Close the door, Jamie, and sit down a moment." When he had obeyed, she dropped her voice and told him Hoag's plan. "Can you bring the cutter to Kanagawa with the rest of us tomorrow evening?"

He was staring at her stupidly, completely off guard. "You're crazy. That plan's crazy."

"No, not at all. Dr. Hoag thinks..."

"He's over the moon too--you'd never get away with it."

"Why?" she asked calmly.

"Fifty reasons," he said. "So many reasons I'm not even going to mention any. Whole idea's ludicrous, insane, Willie will have you in irons."

"There's no law against what we would be doing, Mr. Skye says. The burial would be quite legal, he says."

"Mr. Bloody Know-all says that, eh? And what else's Heavenly going to do," he asked, "put his collar on backwards and read the bloody service?"

"Mr. Skye believes we can persuade the Reverend Tweet to do that," she said as though he were a child in a tantrum.

He threw up his hands. "You're both crazy and Hoag is stupid, off his head to have suggested it. We'll leave on the mail ship, you, me, and him." He stalked for the door.

"Jamie, can you handle the cutter by yourself or will we need a crew?" He turned back and stared at her. She smiled, determined, but nicely so.

"Would we need a crew?"

"Two men at least. Bosun, and engineer at least."

"Thank you. If you don't wish to help, may I ask the Bosun, yes?"

"I can't seem to get through to you. This idea is foolhardy, extremely foolhardy."

She nodded ruefully. "You're probably right and we won't be able to do it, but I'm going to try, and then try again. I can't seem to get through to you either, dearest Jamie. I promised to love honor and obey my husband and your friend, he was your friend, and I don't feel parted from him, not yet, nor do you. Tess Struan won't give him his wish, will she?"

All the time he had been looking down at her, not seeing her and at the same time seeing every detail of her, remembering all the years of Tess Struan and what she and Culum Struan had meant to him, and Malcolm Struan had meant and Dirk Struan had meant and the Noble House had meant. All gone and all wasted and all at an end, our Noble House no longer noble, no longer first in Asia. Well, not quite wasted and not quite over but its glory's gone and my friend's dead and that's a fact. I was his friend, but was he mine? God Above, what we do in the name of friendship.