While the old man spluttered some objection, Gen got up and grabbed Kiyoaki by the shirt front.

'Get someone to lock the front door,' he told one of the younger men there, who left quickly. Gen turned to Kiyoaki: 'Listen, youth. We're trying to help the Japanese here, as I told you down at the Gate.'

'That's good.'

'We're working to free the Japanese, actually. Not only here, but in Japan itself.'

Kiyoaki gulped, and Gen shook him. 'That's right, Japan itself! A war of independence for the old country, and here too. You can work for us, and join one of the greatest things possible for a Japanese. Are you in or are you out?'

'In!' Kiyoaki said. 'I'm in, of course! just tell me what I can do!'

'You can sit down and shut up,' Gen said. 'First of all. Listen and then you'll be told more.'

The elderly foreigner seated in the chair of the honoured guest asked a question in his language.

Another of the men waved Kiyoaki aside, answered in the same language. In Japanese he said to Kiyoaki, 'This is Dr Ismail, visiting us from Travancore, the capital of the Indian League. He's here to help us organize our resistance to the Chinese. If you are to stay in this meeting, you must swear never to tell anyone what you see and hear. It means you are committed to the cause without a chance of backing out. If we find out you've ever told anyone about this, you'll be killed, do you understand?'

' I understand,' Kiyoaki said. 'I'm in, I said. You can proceed with no fear from me. I've worked like a slave for the Chinese in the valley, all my life.'

The men in the room stared at him; only Gen grinned at the spectacle of such a youth using the phrase 'all my life'. Kiyoaki saw that and blushed hotly. But it was true no matter how old he was. He set his jaw and sat on the floor in the corner by the door.

The men resumed their conversation. They were asking questions of the foreigner, who watched them with a birdlike blank expression, fingering a white moustache, until the man translating spoke to him, in a fluid language that did not seem to have enough sounds to create all the words; but the old foreigner understood him, and replied to the questions carefully and at length, taking pauses every few sentences to let the young translator speak in Japanese. He was obviously very used to working with a translator.

'He says, his country was under the yoke of the Mughals for many centuries, and finally they freed themselves in a military campaign run by their Kerala. The methods used have been systematized, and can be taught. The Kerala himself was assassinated, about twenty years ago. Dr Ismail says this was a, a disaster beyond telling, you can see it still upsets him to talk about it. But the only cure is to go on and do what the Kerala would have wanted them to do. And he wanted everyone everywhere free of all empires. So Travancore itself is now part of an Indian League, which has its disagreements, even violent disagreements, but mostly they work out their differences as equals. He says this kind of league was first developed here in Yingzhou, out in the east, among the Hodenosaunee natives. The Firanjis have taken most of the cast coast of Yingzhou, as we have the west, and many of the old ones out there have died of disease, as here, but the Hodenosaunee still hold the area around the great lakes, and the Travancoris have helped them to fight the Muslims. He says that is the key to success; those fighting the great empires have to help each other. He says they have helped some Africans as well, down in the south, a King Moshesh of the Basutho tribe. The doctor here travelled there himself, and arranged for aid to the Basuthos that allowed them to defend themselves from Muslim slave traders and the Zulu tribe as well. Without their help the Basuthos probably wouldn't have survived.'

'Ask him what he means when he says help.'

The foreign doctor nodded when the question was put to him. He used fingers to enumerate his answer.

'He says, first, they help by teaching the system their Kerala worked out, for organizing a fighting force, and fighting armies when those armies are much bigger. Then second, they can in some instances help with weapons. They will smuggle them in for us, if they think we are serious. And third, rare but possible, they can join the fight, if they think it will turn the tide.'

'They fought Muslims, and so do the Chinese. Why should they help Us?'

' He says, good question. He says, it's a matter of keeping a balance, and of setting the two great powers against each other. The Chinese and the Muslims are fighting each other everywhere, even in China itself, where there are Muslim rebellions. But right now the Muslims in Firanja and Asia are splintered and weak, they are always fighting each other, even here in Yingzhou. Meanwhile China continues to fatten on its colonies here and around the Dahai. Even though the Qing bureaucracy is corrupt and inefficient, their manufacturers are always busy, and gold keeps coming, from here and from Inka. So no matter how inefficient they are, they keep getting richer. At this point, he says, the Travancoris are interested in keeping China from becoming so strong they take over the whole world.'

One of the Japanese men snorted. 'No one can take over the world,' he said. 'It's too big.'

The foreigner inquired what had been said, and the translator translated for him. Dr Ismail raised a finger as he heard it, and replied.

'He says, that may have been true before, but now, with steamships, and communication by qi, and trade and travel everywhere by ocean, and machines exerting several thousandcamels of power, it could be that some dominant country could get an advantage and keep growing. There is a kind of, what, multiplying power to power. So that it's best to try to keep any one country from getting powerful enough to start that process. It was Islam that looked to be taking over the world for a while, he says, before their Kerala went at the heart of the old Muslim empires and broke them. It could be that China needs a similar treatment, and then there will be no empires, and people can do as they choose, and form leagues with whoever helps them.'

'But how can we stay in contact with them, on the other side of the world?'

'He agrees it is not easy. But steamships are fast. It can be done. They have done it in Africa, and in Inka. Qi wires can be strung very quickly between groups.'

They went on, the questions becoming more practical and detailed, losing Kiyoaki, as he didn't know where many of the places mentioned were: Basutho, Nsara, Seminole and so on. Eventually Dr Ismail appeared to tire, and they ended the meeting with tea. Kiyoaki helped Gen pour cups and pass them around, and then Gen took him downstairs and reopened the chandlery.

'You almost got me in trouble there,' he told Kiyoaki, 'and yourself too. You'll have to work hard for us to make up for scaring me that bad.'

'Sorry – I will. Thanks for helping me.'

'Oh that poisonous feeling. No thanks. You do your job, I do mine.'

'Right.'

'Now, the old man will take you in at the chandlery here, and you can live next door. He'll hit you with his abacus, as you saw. But your main job will be running messages for us and the like. If the Chinese get wind of what we're doing, it will get ugly, I warn you. It will be war, do you understand? It may be a secret war, at night, in the alleyways and out on the bay. Do you understand?'

'I understand.'

Gen regarded him. 'We'll see. First thing, we'll go back into the valley and get the word into the foothills, to some friends of mine. Then back to the city, to work here.'

'Whatever you say.'

An assistant gave Kiyoaki a tour of the chandlery, which he was soon to know so well. After that he went back to the boarding house next door. Peng ti was helping the old woman chop vegetables; Hu Die was sunning in a laundry basket. Kiyoaki sat next to the baby, entertaining it with a finger and thinking things over. He watched Peng ti, learning the Japanese words for the vegetables. She didn't want to go back to the valley either. The old woman spoke pretty good Chinese, and the two women were talking, but Peng ti wasn't telling her any more about her past than she had told Kiyoaki. It was warm in the kitchen. Rain was coming down again outside. The baby smiled at him, as if to reassure him. As if telling him that it would be all right.