"Although your true mother no longer lives, you are most certainly Fujiwara," Mori went on. "You have blood ties with the family that once stood ready to give its life for the emperor. Therefore you may even have a connection with the sword itself."
Noda moved in. "We also believe, Dr. Richardson, that you, because of your work, could have a vital role in the endeavor Dai Nippon will soon undertake. That is the reason we want to speak with you tonight."
At last, Tam thought. I'm finally going to find out why Matsuo Noda "accidentally" happened to ask me along.
"I've been waiting to hear this."
Since the _fusuma _sliding doors were drawn closed, shutting out the serving women, Noda breached conventional etiquette and reached across the table to pour more sake into Tam's tiny Shino dish himself. Ken merely looked on silently as Mori took up Noda's theme.
"We would like you to be part of something that would do honor to your Fujiwara heritage, Dr. Richardson, the noble family that so long served the emperor."
"I may or may not be Fujiwara, Mori-san, but I already have my work."
"Dr. Richardson, do hear us out," Noda interjected, pressing. "We wish to advise you that important, even potentially disruptive events, lie ahead for America. Very soon. And we would like very much for someone such as yourself, a pragmatist, to be involved. Especially since, in addition to your professional skills, you are in a position to understand the cultures, the attitudes, of both Americans and Japanese. Your assistance could be invaluable."
"Invaluable for what purpose?"
"A worthy undertaking, we assure you. Think of it if you will as an attempt to prevent Japan and the West from going to war with each other again."
She looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to fathom what they were driving at. Then Noda continued, revealing again that nothing had happened by chance.
"We brought you here today to Ise to remind you of the importance of your Japanese heritage. A heritage whose sole
purpose is, like Shinto itself, the peace and ordering of the world."
"What's this all about?" She looked at Ken, in a black silk kimono, serenely sipping his sake and looking the essence of cultivated, tantalizing otherness. "Did you have anything to do with this?"
He carefully set down his Shino dish and smoothed his long sleeve. "I did have occasion to remind Noda-sama that you have a unique combination of background and expertise, Tamara, that could be very instrumental in the realization of his objectives."
"And what are his objectives?" She looked back at Noda. "Your objectives?"
"You, Dr. Richardson, should appreciate this better than anyone." He studied his sake saucer. "There are things the West excels at doing, and there are areas, I trust it is not improper to say, in which we Japanese have demonstrated aptitude. Why should we compete in each other's spheres? It leads only to divisiveness. We open ourselves to predators-- from the steppes of the Caucasus to the oil-rich deserts of Araby. But if we join together, the peoples of Japan and America can achieve insurmountable strength."
"You're talking about something that would more properly be in the realm of diplomacy, Noda-san."
He laughed. "Pardon me, Dr. Richardson, but diplomacy is merely the window dressing for reality. The world cares not a penny for diplomacy, only for power. No one troubled about the Persian Gulf states until they had OPEC and the rest of us had no petroleum. Then suddenly they were toasted worldwide as men of great moment. That is the meaning of 'diplomacy.'
"The reason I knew you would understand the importance of Ise," he went on, "is that, in your genes, you are part of us. You appreciate the value of harmony, one of the first teachings of our philosophy. There must be harmony between man and his world."
"What does that--?"
"Please, just allow me to finish. In like manner, there must also be harmony between nations. Yet all we hear about today is friction. Usually trade friction. Between our nations. But what can be done? The solutions we hear talked of seem, for reasons political and otherwise, impossible to implement. So what course does that leave? You speak of diplomacy, but already diplomacy has been shown inadequate. Why, we might ask, is that so? Because, as your Thomas Jefferson observed many years ago, money is the principal exchange of civilized nations. Diplomacy comes out of economic power. It was trade that estranged our two nations once before in this century, leading to a conflict neither of us desired, and it is money that creates these 'frictions' we hear about so much today. Since diplomacy has failed, we must now find other means to bring stability and thus harmony to both our nations."
She was tempted to ask him how all the right-wing, nationalistic fervor he was churning up with the sword would contribute to this so-called harmony, but instead she inquired what, specifically, he was proposing.
"The most pressing problem America has today, Dr. Richardson, is the growing inability of your industries to compete. If I may be allowed to generalize: America's strength has long been in innovation, but I think it is reasonable to suggest that Japanese management has had a commensurate share of success. So much so that we have been the subject of a flurry of books in your country." He smiled. "Even, I should add, several very insightful volumes written by you yourself. Also, Japanese industry has already been part of a number of joint ventures, instituting our management techniques in the service of America's business."
"Well, unquestionably we do have problems in our industrial sector just now," Tam interjected. "But Japan has plenty of difficulties of its own."
"Most assuredly." He nodded. "However, as some might put it, 'the proof is in the pudding.' I merely ask you to compare your, and our, balance of trade, or productivity. Surely these both suggest there is truth in what I say."
At that point Akira Mori abruptly seized the floor. "You know, Dr. Richardson, there are those in your country who are now saying your trade problems are caused by Japan. That we should work less, save less, squander more, just as you do. Perhaps so we will self-destruct economically as America is now doing and no longer be an embarrassment to you."
"That is hardly--" Noda tried to break in, but she waved him aside.
"No, this needs to be said. I am tired of hearing Americans tell us to follow their example." She turned back. "Your media
chastise us for our thrift and hard work, while your businessmen, who are happy enough to grow rich retailing the superior goods we make, refuse to invest their profits in modernizing their own factories. Instead they give themselves bonuses and Japan lectures."
At that she wound down, to the obvious relief of Noda and Ken. The outburst seemed to pass as quickly as it had come, but it succeeded in reinforcing Tarn's reservations about Akira Mori.
"So what exactly do you have in mind?" She looked back at Noda.
"Dr. Richardson, no one in Japan desires to see America's industrial base disintegrate. That is dangerous for the future, both yours and ours. Yet joint ventures and management seminars are too little, too late. We, and by 'we' I mean Dai Nippon, are determined to make a more structured contribution."
As he laid out his plan, she realized that Matsuo Noda had decided to play God. Still, in this world such things were possible; all it took was enough financial clout. If anybody doubted that, just remember OPEC.
But that was the last time around. Now Japan had the money. Maybe the oil billionaires of years past had no good idea what to do with their winnings, but Matsuo Noda had a very precise idea indeed.
The one remaining problem: he needed Tamara Richardson.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
In the aftermath of that evening down in Ise, Tam was convinced of only one fact. Nobody was giving her the straight story. Not Noda, not Mori, not Ken. And when she tried to talk supercomputers with MITI officials at the Kyoto conference.
she again sensed she was hearing a runaround. Suddenly all she could get was Japan's public face, that version of reality Japanese executives call _tatemae_, superficial and soothing assurances, intended to promote the _wa_, harmony, so desirable in human affairs. When Japan doesn't care to give answers, _hai_ no longer translates as "yes." It just means "I heard you."
Even more troublesome was the question of Ken. As best she could tell, he was merely a reluctant accomplice in Noda's grand design. But why was he going along with Dai Nippon if he was as apprehensive as he seemed? Ken, she concluded, knew a lot more about Matsuo Noda than he was saying.
So instead of giving them all an answer outright, she decided to spend a few days analyzing what she'd managed to piece together so far. As Noda had couched his proposition, it was simple: he was offering her a chance to do more than merely write prescriptions for America's economic recovery. She would guide it.
One thing, Matsuo Noda was no proponent of half measures. The way he laid out his scenario, it was visionary . . . no, revolutionary. After thinking over his proposal for a week, she still wasn't sure whether he was brilliant or a megalomaniac. Dai Nippon's program could conceivably change the course of world history, and the prospect of being at the helm of its juggernaut was seductive. All the same, what if Ken's hints were right? What if Noda did have something much grander in mind, something impossible even to imagine. When you ride the whirlwind, who's really in charge?