Chapter 1

Hiro Yakazuki stepped out of the corporate jet into an uncomfortable wave of Texas heat at Dallas-Fort Worth airport’s general aviation area. Before him was a small fleet of limousines ready to whisk him and his party to a hotel, and later to the new Mitsubishi factory that was nearing completion. More importantly at the moment, they offered a welcome return to air conditioning. If he had to spend much time outdoors here, wearing his ever-present suit was going to be a challenge, he thought.

The saying “A Samurai pretends, even when he is starved, by holding a toothpick between his teeth“ came to Hiro’s mind. Compared to the pleasant California weather he was accustomed to, it was going to be difficult to hide his discomfort if he had to spend much time outdoors.

When he got to the bottom of the stairway, a similarly dressed Michael Bugyo gave the traditional bow, which Hiro returned.

“Welcome to Dallas, Yakazuki-buchou. We are most honored by your visit,” he welcomed, focusing his gaze respectfully at Hiro’s tie.

“I am honored by your great efforts on behalf of the company, Bugyo-kachou. Tokyo is most pleased by your progress,” Hiro responded politely.

“Please, let me show you to your car,” Michael offered and led Hiro, his wife Nomi, and sons Isoroku and Kido to the limousine. The rest of the party, all senior executives with Mitsubishi USA, along with their families, were similarly brought to waiting vehicles by their drivers. Michael Bugyo would personally attend to Hiro’s needs, though. To do otherwise would be impolite.

Once they had all settled in, the fleet left the airport. They traveled in silence, which was completely comfortable for Hiro. Although Hiro had been born in the US and was quite comfortable with American culture, the Japanese ways felt much more refined and pleasant to him. He was the fish that swam two oceans, working within both cultures and succeeding well in either. If he had to pick one, however, Japanese culture was what he preferred.

Hiro’s family was quite pleased with the hotel they would be staying at. While he and his associates would spend their time at the nearly-completed factory, the families would take the opportunity for a little bit of a vacation so they could enjoy what Texas could offer them. Family vacations weren’t a great priority for the Yakazukis, as there was so little time Hiro could spare for them. He would take a day to explore with them after the work was done, time permitting. Family time was important to him, it’s just that he had responsibilities. Those must come first.

Nomi sidled up to Hiro as he looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the 15th floor towards the Dallas skyline. “It is a quite beautiful view, anata,” she observed.

“It is agreeable,” he offered nonchalantly, gently signaling his little appreciation for it.

He turned away to see the boys immediately immersing themselves in the latest Anime fad on the television, which did carry some Japanese channels. This one featured a group of schoolgirls who transformed into imagined Confederacy vessels fighting the Sa’arm, clad of course in skimpy schoolgirl outfits that accentuated their quite unrealistic body shapes. The girls each represented an historic naval vessel from World War Two, and laid waste to the enemy with utterly predictable consistency. It was but one example of the many recent changes to Japanese culture.

Of all the nations that reeled at the news of the Confederacy and the Sa’arm, Japan was an outlier. Japan hardly seemed to blink. While many countries devolved into chaos and confusion, Japan simply looked back at their history of how an American fleet had shown up unwelcome and unexpected in the 1850’s and triggered the largest and most rapid national transformation the world had ever seen. From a feudal and disjointed warlord society, Japan had launched itself on a path of cultural change, unification and industrialization known as the Meiji Restoration. In those scant fifty years Japan became a significant military power which shocked the world with their demonstration of new-found might, sinking nearly the entire Russian fleet in a shockingly one-sided battle.

To add to that impetus, Japan knew well what invasion looked like. The devastation of Japan in World War Two was extensive and overwhelming, utterly devastating the nation. That did serve well to curb their militaristic cultural tendencies, but Japan roared back to the global forefront and rebuilt with a ferocity unmatched elsewhere. Now that it wasn’t a question of what happens when a nation decides to prey on neighbors and draw the ire of the West, Japan dedicated itself to military development with a familiar vengeance, using the same slogans of the Meiji Restoration to spur the population into a creative and productive frenzy.

This is where Mitsubishi and the other Japanese conglomerates fit in. They were going to deliver the armaments and trained personnel that would save Japan from these new barbarians. The only problem was that the Confederacy wasn’t cooperating.

A number of neighboring countries had tolerated Japan’s moderate postwar military activities, but always held their deep resentment of what Japan had delivered on them during the war. With the new Japanese military buildup, China and Korea in particular were terrified, and complained endlessly at the United Nations about the threat that a resurgent Japan posed to them and their interests. That animus bled into the Confederacy, which embargoed technology transfers to Japan and their corporate entities.

But secrets never stay secrets. The Japanese had long been masters of reverse-engineering technology and improving it, and technology leaked into their hands at an increasing rate, fueling technical revolution. Japan sold many of the products they developed as they always had, technology that quickly drew worldwide interest and even some sales to Confederacy interests. When that technology was integrated into other systems using Confederacy technology, those additional technologies fell into Japanese hands as well. The embargo ended up only delaying, not denying, the surge of Japanese innovation and development.

The new Dallas factory was an example. The facility was going to make fusion reactors, ostensibly for power generation. It was much easier to build nuclear reactors in the US, and workers in Texas had none of the concerns about working on such things that posed such a challenge in Japan. Any nuclear programs in Japan were tightly controlled, workers were hard to find, and the Japanese public remained hostile to even continuing existing efforts, much less commencing new ones.

Secretly, those Texas-made reactors were going to be tremendously useful for spacecraft, as they were safer, more reliable, and more efficient than what the Confederacy was using. Instead of requiring an AI to carefully manage their safe operation, this design would operate perfectly fine without such an investment.

With that freedom from a foreign AI, the other parts of the Mitsubishi conglomerate would build the pieces and parts needed to make vessels to fight the Sa’arm that didn’t require dependence on a barbarian AI at all. They could have one integrated, certainly, but only if the risks involved in doing so could be properly managed.

Even monkeys fall from trees.

“Would it be agreeable to eat our dinner here tonight, honorable wife?” Hiro questioned.

Nomi smiled. “That would be wonderful, Hiro. It would give me great pleasure if we could all eat together. You have had too much work and are away too often.”

“When you feel it right, we shall eat together. I shall leave this in your hands, my love.”

Nomi gave him a little kiss, and left him to his musings.

The meeting at the factory the next morning was long, but it must be long. Different departments presented their progress reports on the completion of the facility in great detail, as was expected. They had all done excellent work, Hiro thought. The work was proceeding at a very acceptable pace, was flawless, and done fully within the cost projections for the project. No long-winded, self-congratulatory summary by Michael Bogyo was needed after the presentations, as would be usual with an American manager. The conclusion was evident - this project was well on track.

“Bugyo-buchoo, you and your team are to be commended on your fine efforts here. You bring great honor to the company with such fine work. I need not remind you of how important this project is and this will all be long remembered.”

“Thank you, Yakazuki-kachou. It is an honor for us be given such an important task. We have prepared tea in celebration, if that is agreeable to you.”

Hiro nodded. Of course he would agree.

A woman in traditional dress performed the tea ceremony, of course to perfection. Hiro would have expected nothing less from this group.

The afternoon was spent touring the nearly-completed facility, led by Michael’s deputy, Tim Akira, as Michael wanted to make sure the finishing touches were properly implemented. Many of the areas still lacked functional air conditioning, so it was fairly miserable, but everyone steadfastly ignored the discomfort. Workers were swarming all over, closely watched by not only their American bosses, but Mitsubishi personnel as well. This late in the project, they had little reason to intervene, having already imposed their methods and exacting standards on the contractors to their consternation.

The next day would involve more leadership meetings, but that night would involve a dinner together. Since the San Francisco leadership had brought families on this trip, the Dallas team brought theirs as well. Although unusual for a business dinner to have families present, it wasn’t all that out of character for the mixed Japanese-American culture that Mitsubishi USA was known for. A Texas steak house was the venue for tonight’s event.

Right as the main course was served, a tall American in a strange uniform entered the private room, along with a similarly-outfitted companion.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. I am Sergeant Winchowsky and this is a Confederacy pickup. If you have a weapon, I want you to gently set it on the floor and one of us will take care of it for you. Now if I could get everyone with a CAP score of 6.5 or better to stand up, that would help out a lot. The rest of you stay seated for now.”

Nobody moved. At all.

“C’mon folks, we can’t take all day here. Let’s get a move on!”

All eyes turned to Hiro, who barely was able to contain his anger at this tremendously impolite interruption. He slowly rose and walked over to the Sergeant as all eyes in the room followed him.

“Sergeant,” he said in a low voice, “this is most inappropriate. You are interrupting our meal.”

“And you are?” he inquired.

“I am Hiro Yakazuki, director of operations for Mitsubishi USA.”

The Sergeant checked his notepad. “Good, you’re on my list. You get four. Now I need to track down a few others. Where are...”

Hiro interrupted, barely containing himself. “Sergeant, you need to leave us. We will discuss this with you after our meal.”

“Oh, Mr. Yakaziki, it doesn’t work that way. We need to start processing you all right now.”

The mispronunciation of his name only added fuel to the fire burning in Hiro. This man was plain rude. “You will wait. Then we may talk. Or you may leave us.”

Sergeant Winchowsky had never encountered this sort of behavior before. Pickups had always followed a reliable pattern. Usually right after his initial announcement clothes were flying off potential concubines and CAP-capable sponsors were rushing to him with stupid questions in a predictable pandemonium. Instead, he faced a group of perfectly immobile people with some “corporate type” pretty much telling him to leave them alone. To Winchowsky, this made no sense.

“Lieutenant, we have a problem here in the private room,” the Sergeant mumbled into his implant.

“Sergeant, what’s the problem?” a voice said in his ear.

“They aren’t cooperating. They’re telling me to leave.”

“Wait one. On my way.”

Another two-meter tall musclebound spectacle entered the room which found Hiro calmly standing in front of the taller Sergeant, but obviously neither intimidated nor impressed by him. The Lieutenant saw that perhaps de-escalating the situation might help.

“Sir, I’m Lieutenant Baker of the Confederacy Marines. How can I help you?”

Hiro’s attention turned towards the officer. “Lieutenant, your soldier just interrupted our dinner. It was most distressing. Whatever your intentions are, we can discuss them after our meal.” Hiro turned away and returned to his seat, starting into his steak. The others at the tables followed suit, ignoring the Marines, but also not engaging in any conversation.

Lieutenant Baker stood dumbfounded for a moment. She had never seen anyone else act this way.

After getting the story from her Sergeant, she strode over to Hiro and pulled up a nearby chair. “Look, sir, I’m really sorry we’ve been an inconvenience, but we have a schedule and we simply can’t wait for you to finish a meal. We’ll get you fed aboard the Windward Explorer if you’d like, but we need to get this processing done now, before things get ugly around here. If we don’t get done quickly, people might end up getting hurt. We really don’t have much time.”

Hiro slowly set down his utensils and looked at the Lieutenant. “Lieutenant, I must consult with my superiors if you wish us to participate. May I be allowed to make a phone call to Tokyo?”

Lieutenant Baker sighed. The only CAP-qualified personnel in the restaurant were here in this room. It was a choice between going back empty-handed -- something unheard of -- or letting this officious twerp get his way. At least no one in Tokyo was likely to suddenly appear at this restaurant and try to horn in on the action.

“Fine,” she relented. “I’ll open a link for you. Wait a minute, OK?”

Hiro nodded, and waited for the officer as she talked with the AI. “You’re good to go,” she advised him.

“Thank you for your assistance.”

Hiro placed a call to his boss in Tokyo, where the workday was just getting started. International Operations Director Yushida answered his phone immediately and a conversation ensued in Japanese.

“Honored Director, this is Hiro Yakazuki. My staff and the senior staff at the Dallas, Texas facility have encountered a Confederacy pickup while we are having dinner. I ask your guidance on how we should handle this unfortunate incident.”

“Hiro, it is good of you to call me. We have foreseen the possibility of such a thing, and that is why we requested all of you to undergo the Confederacy testing. We wish you and all who are with you whom are eligible to volunteer to do so. This may help the company improve its relationship with the Confederacy and finally end the terrible embargo we are suffering under. Perhaps your contribution to the company shall be even greater within the Confederacy than your honorable service in America has always been.”

“Hai, I understand, sir. It has been a great privilege to work with you and I shall always feel a great debt for your steadfast friendship and assistance.”

“As will I, Hiro. May Ama-terasu look with favor on your journey across the celestial river,” he concluded, before cutting the connection.

“Lieutenant, if I may?” Hiro asked.

The Lieutenant gave an uncertain nod, after the AI assured her that the conversation had been favorable to Confederacy interests.

Hiro stood, and continued in English. “My friends, I have spoken with Tokyo and they have instructed that all of us who are eligible must volunteer for Confederacy service. If you have a sufficient CAP score for eligibility please bring your cards to the Sergeant by the door at this time.”

Immediately five others got up and started walking over to the startled Sergeant to hand him their cards. Hiro fished his out of his suit jacket and gave it to the Lieutenant. She dropped it into a reader to confirm, but had already figured out that Hiro was on the list. Seeing that Hiro was able to obtain compliance from this group far better than anyone else, she quietly informed him that concubines needed to be selected.

“There are likely no potential concubines of interest in this place other than our own families, but if you wish I shall have my colleagues evaluate any additional candidates you think advisable.”