As the sun set, the car advanced at full speed along the highway. The vehicle speeded through the light traffic of the day, sirens on and warning lights flashing. The passenger anxiously looked outside of the vehicle every now and then, watching the other cars fade away in a blink, and magnificent corporation buildings here and there that were being built. But the building which had drawn the attention of this fearful passenger was the tower of ivory white that lay to the left of the highway, atop of a hill and standing out of the crowd of smaller government offices and apartments. As the last rays of sunlight hid behind the mountains ahead and the castle merged into the darkness, six powerful bulbs were turned on, returning to the magnificent structure its daytime splendour. The passenger muttered something and hugged his briefcase.
Upon arriving to the outer doors of the castle, the passenger left the car and went through a checkpoint. Immediately afterwards, a woman wearing a traditional kimono invited him to enter a building of respectable size. There, he bathed and changed clothes. He wore a traditional kimono and the papers from his briefcase had been turned into sealed rolls. He kept them in the sleeve of his kimono and walked towards the tenshu. After half an hour and ten checkpoints later, there were no more white walls or heavily guarded magnificent gates of wood and wooden roof between him and the keep. One last time he glanced all what surrounded him. Now he had the tenshu to his right, and the baths and kitchen and living quarters of distinguished servants were in another exquisite white building to his left. The chill of the night could make one really think he was in the middle of the snow-covered mountains, if it were not for the candle lights all over the place. The artificial light had been lowered to illuminate the hill, where nobody sleeps, so that people can actually live and sleep in the castle. At the hall of the tenshu, he put his shoes away and bowed before the Shogun’s secretary, Otomo Suruge, as he bowed before him.
“Hai, Inomasa-sama. Satake-sama is in the sixth floor. However, he is busy right now, and he has asked for any visitors to await their call in the Chinese Room of the fifth floor.”
“Hai, Suruge-san. The Chinese Room?”
“You know that your brother has been refurbishing the castle. If only he would let a phone to be installed...” Suruge complained, hoping that Inomasa would talk to the Shogun about it.
“Indeed I do, as well as you know that he has strictly prohibited modern technology in the castle. This is his retreat, his second home, he is the ruler of Japan and his word is law. I have insisted that he accedes to install up-to-date communication but, alas, shikataganai. If he has acceded I would not be here now, not so late.”
“So it is indeed for matters of state that you have come, neh?”
“Of course, Suruge, you knew that before I stepped into the outer perimeter of the fortress.”
Both men bowed again, a smile on their faces, and Inomasa headed for the precious stairs. All of the building was built with the finest and most resistant of woods, carefully revised every year to ensure that it put no danger to the stability of the structure. He noticed that even the walls of the stairs were profusely decorated with exotic items every now and then, small paintings and even hand-written poems, all elements in harmony with their natures and those of the elements surrounding them. Once he arrived at the fifth floor, he opened the shoji to discover that he had just entered the Chinese Room. The walls were made entirely from wood with a distinctively red colour, and even the tatami had been dyed red. In the walls, numerous displays of Chinese art, including a panel which had been carved into the shape of two dragons, convoluting their shape to the point of occupying a circle nearly as tall as the room, with many holes in the panel, being the few areas of the circle not covered by one of the dragons. Behind the panel, a paper wall behind which numerous candles lighted the Chinese Room through the paper wall and the holes in the panel. The yellowish light of the candle acquired red tones when filtered by the wooden panel. Around the centre of the room there were four red wooden columns, and on top of them four sculptures in jade, all of them dragons, in which wide open jaws there were four candles. Just under the sculptures, a fifth work of art, a real-size sculpture of Buda, in jade. Two priceless porcelain vases flanked the entrance. Inomasa was astonished, speechless, and spent most of the night examining the room, the sculptures, the panel, everything, until Suruge told him he could finally go upstairs. Suddenly nervous due to the sudden remembrance of his reasons and duties, Inomasa double-checked his rolls to ensure everything was ready, under the amused sight of Suruge. Finally, he went upstairs and entered a much more austere and typically Japanese room. It was large and clear, only two pillows on the green, bare tatami, and from the walls hung only a picture of a flower, with a poem carefully written on it. Two cups of tea and a teapot lay on a tray between the pillows. The room was as harmonious as the room below, and equally beautiful. Undoubtedly the Shogun had been an interior decorator in a previous life. He was already sitting on his heels on one of the pillows. Inomasa sat in front of him in the same way, and respectfully bowed.
“Hai, Satake-sama.”
“Hai, Inomasa-sama. What bring you to my home today?”
“News from abroad, brother. Gilmore Flanagon is dead.” Inosama, always looking into his brother’s eyes, noticed how, for a second only, the Shogun was genuinely surprised. He also handed him the first roll, which was thoroughly read by Satake.
“This is good news, brother. Very good. That foolish madman put us on the verge of war. Before you ask, Inomasa, no. We’re not letting Manx ships into Japanese ports again. They’re filthy and arrogant fools, and I am sorry for the Tsingtao people who have to deal with them. How did the seizure of Okinawa go?” The Shogun stood up and looked through the windows at the city around the castle. “Excuse me for not maintaining the old protocol. We’re not in the 16th Century any more, though, I think I can have that privilege, neh?”
“Heh, indeed, brother. On Okinawa, it all went well. All Manx were killed, ships seized and cargo loaded onto Japanese ships. The Manx ships are being refurbished at the Kure Naval Arsenal. As anticipated, they are not large enough, but they are better fitted for our purpose that any Japanese-made cargo ships available.” A second and a third roll were handed over.
“Most excellent. Which is the current status of Crimson Sky?”
“It is theoretically viable. We have recovered the century-old plans, and developed our own blueprints. Production has begun, and the first pieces will be complete by the time the Manx ships are returned to the sea. We only need the base.” Inomasa was proud of the report, as he handed another roll to the Shogun.
“I hope that you have already spotted a good location for it?” The Shogun lifted his eyes from the roll directly into his brother’s eyes, raising both eyebrows.
“Of course, that is the subject of this other roll. By the way, now that Hawai’i has fallen, we could consider its acquisition as an advanced defensive post, neh?” A fifth and a sixth rolls were handed.
“Everything will come in time, Inomasa. I see that the Flanagan swine died in a naval accident, neh? Good. He did not deserve an honourable death in battle, or by an enemy sword, don’t you think? Although he should have died by the hand of a traitor. It would have been the most fitting and worse death possible. But it was his karma, neh? Shikataganai.” A smile appeared on the face of the Shogun.
“Of course, Satake-sama, but maybe you will like to know that he is suspected to have been assassinated, by both Algeria and the Manx themselves. The Manx suspects the Catholics and the Algerians suspect the Manx themselves.” Both men had a good laugh at the expense of the situation. “The Manx are crowning their Boy King. Perhaps we should send a representation. They are also having a funeral for Gilmore, but we will not be attending that one, neh?”
“Of course not. And I don’t want anybody in the coronation either. At most, send our UN representative. They don’t even deserve that but, alas, the rules of the modern world demand it. Anything else? It is late, brother, and we should both have a rest.” The Shogun forgot his position and passed his arm over his little brother’s shoulders, and they both motioned towards the door.
“Damn, yes! There is the issue of China. It has split in a handful of minor countries and, most importantly, Taiwan is open to our rule. Many countries in China have crowned their rulers Emperors of China. Our client Tsingtao has crowned its ruler Queen of China. At least that acknowledges out Emperor above her, neh?” The two brothers stopped and smiled and even laughed, but they were again chief and subordinate.
“Heh, yes. We need to expand our influence on the mainland. The Hawaiian project may have to wait another year, Taiwan is a top priority. Do you think that it fits the requirements for Crimson Sky?” Now the Shogun was in deep thought, pondering all variables and options and which would be the one final outcome. “Moreover, has anybody else tried to influence the area already?”
“We have the military capability to complete unification, pacify Taiwan and establish our base for Crimson Sky, that should not be a problem, but... Romney has cliented two Chinese countries already, and it’s trying to meddle in their affairs as well as those of China.” Inomasa bite his lower lip and watched as the Shogun’s face turned slightly red from his rage.
“Romney... will be pushed away... from China and all that is Asia. Or things may happen that escape my own control.” The Shogun clenched its teeth and closed his fist. “You are dismissed.” Shimazu Satake, Shogun, watched as his brother descended to the lower floor and went to his rooms to have a few hours of sleep. Meanwhile, he sat on his heels on a cushion, and took sips of tea as his brain furiously scanned through every single chance, action, and probable outcome thereof. There was no sleeping for the Shogun that night, and many a teapot was boiled for him.
