I hung up the phone very slowly.
"We've 'moved the shadow.'" I spoke the words to myself hesitantly, maybe even a little apprehensively. That was the name for a famous strategy of the seventeenth-century swordsman Miyamoto Mushashi, using a feint to lure your opponent into prematurely disclosing his battle plan.
The way I saw it, Matsuo Noda now stood revealed. It had all been a setup. The financial scam, the help-American-industry cover, the MITI "guidance." This was a takeover, all the way. A global takeover. What else could it be?
And the only people on this side of the Pacific who knew were Matt Walton and Tam Richardson.
For some reason that thought brought to mind the professor at Stanford, the AI guy who'd disappeared. What was it Tam had said? He'd had dinner at her apartment? Asked her to do something for him in Japan? And her MITI friend, whose name was all over that stack of memos on the table downstairs? Asano. Where did he fit in?
One thing, he'd helped Noda recruit her. They'd worked together, and their play had been flawless.
But now our friend Matsuo Noda had a small headache. Tam Richardson and Matt Walton had exposed the underside of his game. The shadow had moved. Which meant it would only be a matter of time before he struck.
Where was our weakness, hers and mine? What would cause us to lose our rhythm, to blunder? He'd already outmaneuvered Jack O'Donnell with ease. He had a master swordsman's unerring instinct for his opponent's weakness. So where was mine? I had to know it before he found it.
He'd realized Jack could be blackmailed, if the stakes were his constituents' jobs and lives. But I didn't need a job. And the only life…
Of course! It was obvious. Amy.
Could it be I was dealing with a madman who made people disappear?
If I was about to take on a pro like Noda, I had to cover every possibility. Which meant I had to get her out, away, beyond his reach. Today.
Still, though, there were so many questions. Who was really behind all the moves, the master puppeteer? Was it only Matsuo Noda, or was this possibly, just possibly, something that wound its way even higher. If so, who was the point man on that? Akira Mori?
The only rational countermove now was to back off and "survey prevailing conditions." Miyamoto Mushashi's keiki o shiru to iu koto. But to do that we had to remove ourselves beyond the reach of Dai Nippon's sword. How long did we have?
I glanced at the clock on my desk, the little Sony digital. The number 12:18 stared back, the two dots in the middle flashing every second. Amy was still at school, and for the moment I couldn't think of a safer place. They wouldn't even let me in without a pass. She didn't get out till four P.M.
So now what?
Simple. In swordsmanship, vigilance is everything. And there are two things you always have to keep in view. The first is called ken, the surface actions, the moves your opponent wants you to see. The second, and more important, is kan, the essence of things, the real truth. Ken covers the superficial moves; kan gives you the big picture.
Instinctively I still believed we had only been witness to ken, the distractions, the insignificant feints of our opponent. The deeper wisdom of kan still lay beyond us. Time to probe.
We had three and a half hours.
I got up and headed downstairs to retrieve a couple of very important memos. If we needed them, we'd have them. The rest of the pile I brought back upstairs and locked in the sword room (the closest thing I had to a safe). Finally, I reflected a second and paused to scribble Emma a note, asking her to feed and walk Ben in case I wasn't around for a while. That taken care of, I retrieved my heavy topcoat from the front closet, walked out into the street, and grabbed a cab for the offices of Dai Nippon, International.
Maybe our opening move should be uromekasu to iu koto, to feint a thrust that would induce a state of confusion in Noda's mind. Then we could stage a tactical retreat to plan the final, all-out attack.
Retreat to where? Well, that part at least was easy: the obvious hideaway was my place down in the islands. The thing to do was to quietly catch American 291 and head for the Caribbean. If Noda did manage to track us down, he'd be in for a surprise. Let me explain.
Back when the world was young and Amy was still a gleam in our eye, Joanna and I acquired a rambling white fortress, complete with pool, that was being offered to the first tourist appearing on St. Croix that day with ready cash. Seemed its Cosa Nostra owner back in Sicily (so the story went) suddenly needed a transfusion of a hundred grand in bail money. Fortunately I'd had a good year and happened to have the necessary liquidity. It was luxurious beyond vulgarity. Hardwood parquet floors, heavy tile roof (to withstand an Interpol bombing run? Who knows?), manicured grounds, satellite dish, a bar worthy of Caesars Palace, three bedrooms, and music in every room. It was oversize and garish and pretentious and… who cares, I loved the place. Sort of a Roman villa in the middle of paradise. However, because of the peculiar requirements of its former tenant, it also had a security setup to shame Fort Knox, including a six-foot fence, two-inch-thick doors, and TV monitors all over the grounds.
If we could locate a little hardware to match Noda's Uzis, he'd be in for a surprise should he try and send down a Dai Nippon hit squad for an unscheduled visit.
But first things first. Right now we needed to somehow lure Matsuo Noda into revealing more of his overall strategy.
After the cab dropped me off, I rode the elevator up to twelve and passed through security. The complement of guards, I noticed in passing, had just been expanded. Instead of two, now there were four. And when I walked out onto the floor, nobody said anything, but there was an almost palpable air of tension. Stony silence, analysts nervous. Bad vibes, very bad vibes.
I just ignored the stares and headed straight for Tarn's office. She was waiting, and she had an identical reading of the situation. The minute I walked in, she got up and shut the door. Her first words…
"He just brought in more security. That, and the IBM thing. Matt, he's getting worried."
"Bet your ass he is. We're moving in too close. But I think Noda figures he's just toying with us now. Having some fun before he cuts us in half."
"I'm not afraid of him. No matter what he tries." She glanced at the door. "Did you bring the memos?"
"Here in my briefcase. But I think it's too soon to show him everything we have. Right now he doesn't know what we've got. That's better."
"Well, I've just begun to fight. I'm going to Tokyo to get the truth out of Ken." She paused, and her voice trembled slightly with anger. "He's got some heavy explaining to do."
"You're incredible." I just looked at her. "I almost believe you still can't accept that your friend Asano is in on Noda's play. Since he's such a terrific guy."
"Matt, I don't believe it. He wouldn't be part of this. You don't know him."
"That I don't."
"All I'm saying is, this doesn't feel right. He wouldn't involve MITI in whatever Noda's planning." She sat down, running her hands through her tousled dark hair. "You know, the fact is we still don't know for sure who's really behind what."
"Exactly. How does everybody fit in, including us? We've got pieces of a puzzle lying around-a section here, a section there-but something fundamental is missing."
"So what do we do next?"
"How about a little joust with our friend downstairs? Try and feel him out. Maybe we can lure him into making another move, something that'll give away more of his game."
"You don't think he's actually going to talk."
"Not really. He'll feint, parry. But if we watch carefully, maybe we'll glimpse more of the outline of his strategy. Then we'll know what our counter scenario has to be." I decided to hold off on telling her the getaway plan. Assuming the walls had ears, we'd already said too much. "Look, make you a deal. First let's see what happens with Noda, then we decide what to do about your friend Asano."
"All right. But let's stay cool." She was locking her desk.
"You read my mind."
With that settled, we strolled out, past the doubled security, and headed down to eleven. The way people looked at us, I felt as naked as Tam had been in the bath Saturday night. How much did they know?
Matsuo Noda was in his office. His secretary buzzed us right through, almost as though he'd been waiting for our appearance.
"Dr. Richardson. Mr. Walton." He rose to greet us. "How timely. There is an urgent matter we have to discuss."
"We want to talk about MITI." I decided to try and break his rhythm as quickly as possible. Take the action to him.
"Then this is a coincidence." An easy smile as he resumed his seat. "That happens to be the very matter I wanted to explore-"
"What we want to know," Tam interrupted, "here and now, is whether our program is being run by the ministry."
"Dr. Richardson, you… and Mr. Walton, are in the employ of Dai Nippon, International, not MITI." He leaned back in his chair. "Though of course nothing in this world is entirely simple. Certain… interests of the ministry are germane to our programs here."
"Then we'd like to hear about it." She glanced at the leather chairs but decided to remain on her feet. I did the same.
His face was like granite. "Well, you are aware we've occasionally received input from MITI's Industrial Technology arm.
"How about Research and Planning, Ken's section?"
"Only a few informal-"
"Nothing to do with Marketshare – 90?"
He betrayed a hint of confusion, quickly masked. "Dr. Richardson, with all due respect, I fear you may not be entirely aware of the various forces at play here." He leaned back. "This program of ours must succeed. There are many avenues of responsibility, but all difficulties will be overcome."
"What do you mean?"
"All in time, please believe me." He smiled once more. "I'll readily grant you our acquisition program may have evolved slightly as of late in the direction of more-solid securities, but you can be assured that is merely a response to the concerns of certain conservative institutional investors in Tokyo." He continued, a silver tongue to match his silver hair. "Risk is involved. Not to mention an enormous quantity of funds. There is pressure on us just now to try and maintain a prudent balance in our portfolio." He glanced at his watch impatiently. As if he was anxious to move ahead. "Which brings us to the matter we have to address."
"Just to set the record straight"-I decided to do a little parrying of my own-"you have nothing to say about any kind of MITI involvement? Including Marketshare – 90?"
"Well, this Marketshare – 90 proposition you refer to probably should be thought of as merely one of the ministry's more ambitious trial balloons, nothing more. It has the quality of-how do you say it?-woolgathering. Whatever its purpose, it should in no way be confused with Dai Nippon's objectives." Such was Noda's reply. Then in a remarkably convincing tone he added, "How could the ministry's planning possibly have anything to do with our program here?"
Tam wasn't buying. "Looks to me like it has a lot to do with it."
"Dr. Richardson, since I am no longer directly affiliated with MITI, I am not in a position to speak for every proposition arising there. However, we both know that the ministry's responsibility is to provide long-range industrial planning. They often circulate scenarios for comment. It's part of their job."
We were rapidly losing our footing. Noda was top-ranked swordsman. He'd kept his discipline and revealed nothing. He was telling us we hadn't found an opening. He was right. It was a classic standoff.
Or it should have been. Strategically, we should have taken that moment to back away and analyze Noda's style, searching for his weakness. But instead Tam made what turned out to be a fatal move. She struck, exposing herself.
"Since according to you MITI is not involved in this program, there should be no problem if I contacted them directly and talked this over. In Japan."
I wanted to yell no, don't tell him anything.
But it was too late.
"An excellent idea." He nodded gravely, then turned to me. "Do you intend to be part of this expedition as well, Mr. Walton?"
What to do? The only moves left now were defensive. No way was I going to let Tam face the beast alone. Also, if Noda had me, he wouldn't need Amy.
"I assume you can spare me here for a few days."
"But we will all be in Japan together." He removed his thin, wireless spectacles. "That is in fact the very matter I needed to discuss with you. It is time you both were brought more closely into the matters at hand. Beginning today. I've already made reservations on New York Helicopter, departing for Kennedy in two hours. From the East Thirty-fourth Street heliport."
He had us. He'd seized the initiative, feinted us off balance, and defined the terms.
She tried to recover. "When and where we go is something we intend to-"
"Ah, Dr. Richardson, one must seize the moment. It is past time you and Mr. Walton understood more fully the many levels of concern involved here. There are a number of things you need to see." He smiled as he replaced his glasses. "Because of the expected frequency of my travels in the coming months, I have just leased a Concorde. We refuel in Bahrain. I've been looking forward to having you both as my guests."
"The answer is no."
"Mr. Walton, I urge you not to forgo this opportunity too rashly." He looked me over. "In fact, since you are known to be an authority on Japanese arms, I could even arrange for you to have a firsthand look at the Imperial sword."
"Forget it."
"But the timing couldn't be more ideal. At the moment the sword has just been transferred to one of the metallurgy labs at Tsukuba Science City for minor repair work. Since Tsukuba is to be our destination as well, I can just telex the Imperial Household and instruct them to arrange a viewing date." He smiled again. "For a connoisseur such as yourself, nothing would please me more."
There was something about the way he said it. I don't know. Maybe a strange glimmer flashed through his eyes. Looking back, I think that was the moment I first should have realized Matsuo Noda had decided he was God.
"You didn't hear me. We're not leaving now. At least not on your terms."
"Mr. Walton, I really must insist." He glanced over at Tam. "What I intend to show you should be of extreme interest to you both."
"I'll go when I'm ready." She turned and headed for the door.
"Dr. Richardson, I'm afraid we all have no alternative." He spoke quietly, his tone masking the harshness as he continued. "These offices have been sealed. As a temporary security measure. There appears to have been an unauthorized access to the NEC mainframe here. However, I've decided to postpone criminal charges for the moment." He smiled again. "Besides, the time has come for you both to know everything."
We were on our way. I looked out of the window on my side, down through the haze covering New York's East River just below us, and took Tam's hand. The NY chopper was a Sikorski S58T, twin engine, two pilots. Events were moving so fast it was hard even to think. No doubt about one thing, though: we'd been outmaneuvered, outplanned, outfought. The only good part was, he had me as hostage, not Amy. In a final face-off with Noda, whatever he had in mind, I still figured I could take care of myself, MITI and all. The battle had just begun.
When we walked out of Noda's office, there was no longer any mistaking the new security arrangements. Dai Nippon was on red alert.
"Well, Matthew, looks like we're about to get the big picture, like it or not."
"On Noda's terms. Which wasn't the way it was supposed to happen."
"I just need to confront Ken."
For whatever good it may do, I found myself thinking. We were knee-deep in confrontations and we still didn't know a damned thing. What did Noda have planned for us? Whatever it was, I had a strong feeling I didn't want it.
Back in my own office at Dai Nippon, there was only time for one phone call. The first name that came to mind was Joanna. I wanted to say, Look, if I don't make it through this, you and Amy are well provided for. She's got a trust fund that's seven figures, and you can have the house, the bank account, the whole damn works. Just don't ever let a man named Matsuo Noda anywhere near you or her.
But I couldn't force myself to dial the number. It wasn't Joanna who was in over her head now; it was me. The subtle or not-so-subtle difference was enough to stop me cold. I'd vowed to manage life on my own, and this was no moment to waffle.
So, instead I did the next best thing and called The West Side Free School-which, I might add, may have been free in its disdain for classical curriculum, but it had very non-free tuition practices. I identified myself, announced an emergency, and asked to speak to Ms. Amy Walton. In about a minute she was there.
"Dad, we're in the middle of our Monday Geo-2 exam." She lowered her voice. "What's the capital of Somalia?"
"Honey, haven't a clue. Just try and do the best you can. Employ that exceptional brain of yours."
"Thanks."
"Adults don't have to know the capitals of Third World countries. That's a small perk we get for putting up with old age." I paused. "Amy, about this weekend."
"Uh, oh." She sighed. "Betcha I know what's next."
"Well, a problem's come up. I've got to take care of a few things."
"Dad, the snow leopards. This weekend is when they're supposed to-"
"Honey, we'll hit the Bronx Zoo the minute I get back. I absolutely promise."
"You going off somewhere?"
"Just a quick trip."
"Where?" She perked up.
"We'll talk about it when I get back." I wanted to say "if I get back."
"Big secret, huh?"
"Amy, I just wanted to… darling, be careful."
"What's the matter? Dad, are you in some kind of trouble?"
How could I answer? Damned right I was, but that wasn't the point of the call.
"Sweetie, just… just be especially careful. That's all. I'll try my best to make it up to you at Christmas. Maybe we can still get down to the islands somehow. And Amy…"
"Yeah."
"I love you, honey."
"Love you too, Dad. Look, I gotta get back."
"I'm sure Ms. Winters will give you some extra time."
"Don't bet on it. She's an old grouch. She's twenty-eight and an old maid."
Twenty-eight. Old? Good God. I keep forgetting what it's like to be thirteen and think of the future as the next three weeks, followed by a gaping void.
"Sweetheart, that's not exactly ancient. Believe me. She's probably still got half a dozen good years left."
"Tell her. Look, I've gotta run."
"All right. Just advise your mother something unexpected came up. Maybe you and I can make it next weekend. We'll do the snow leopards, that's an absolute guarantee."
"Great. So long, Dad. Have fun."
I almost said "good-bye." Bad luck, I thought. So instead I said, "Take care."
Shortly thereafter Matsuo Noda, Tam Richardson, and yours truly were headed over to New York Helicopter's midtown pad, one of Noda's bodyguards in the limo with us. The battle was drawn.
Now as I looked down at the boroughs of New York gliding below, all those little strings of metallic beads lined up on the ribbons of asphalt, the backyards of New York's solid middle class glimmering with remnants of snow, I found myself wondering what Noda had planned for them.
Another imponderable still nagged at me as well: what about Akira Mori? Tam reported that by the time she'd arrived at the DNI offices this morning our friend had vanished. Ditto her information-packed attache case. As quickly as the lady had come, she'd disappeared back to Tokyo. But not with Noda. She'd gone on her own terms. Was he now using his new Concorde to try and head her off. What had she been doing here? Just hand-delivering MITI's latest "guidance"?
Maybe we were finally about to uncover everybody's real agenda.
Again my mind went back to ken and kan, Miyamoto Musashi's famous discourse on mental attitude in The Way of the Warrior, which he called heiho kokoro mochi no koto. What was merely appearances, ken, and what was kan, the global picture, the essence?
Noda had temporarily gained the upper hand, but now I realized that was almost to be expected. After all, he was a swordsman with decades of experience. So much for ken, my superficial observation. The real truth, kan, lay much deeper. And like all such truths it had to be elementary, elegantly simple.
Which left only two possibilities. Either Matsuo Noda was merely an insane genius about to show us the inner workings of the massive organization he now controlled, or he planned to kill us.
Or both.