I didn't allow anything but that won't help me, a doctor would know for certain but that won't help me, and the idea of Babcott or any doctor being so intimate fills me with horror and then Babcott would share the secret. How could I trust him with such a secret? If it became known... I have to keep it secret! But how, how can you, and what then?
I'll answer that later. First decide who the devil was. No, first clean yourself of this evil and then you will think better. You've got to think clearly.
With distaste she shook off the nightdress and threw it aside, then washed carefully and deeply, trying to remember all the contraceptive knowledge she possessed, what Jeanette had done successfully. Then she put on her robe and combed her hair. Using tooth powder, she cleaned her teeth. Only then did she look in her mirror. Very carefully she examined her face. It was without blemish. She loosed her robe. So were her limbs and breasts-- nipples a little red. Again she looked deep into her mirror.
"No change, nothing. And everything."
Then she noticed that the little gold cross she had worn forever, sleeping and waking, was gone. She searched the bed carefully, then underneath and all around. It was not buried in the bedclothes or under the pillows or caught in the curtains.
Last chance--hiding in the lace of the coverlet.
She picked it off the floor and went through it.
Nothing.
Then she saw the three Japanese characters, crudely drawn on its whiteness, in blood.
Sunlight sparked off the gold cross. Ori was holding it in his fist by the thin chain, mesmerized.
"Why did you take it?" Hiraga asked.
"I don't know."
"Not killing the woman was a mistake. Shorin was right. It was a mistake."
"Karma."
They were safe in the Inn of the Midnight Blossoms and Ori had bathed and shaved and he looked back at Hiraga with level eyes and thought, You're not my master--I will tell you only what pleases me, nothing more.
He had told him about Shorin's death and climbing into the room, that she had slept soundly and had not awakened but no more, only that he had hidden there safely, then had taken off his ninja clothes knowing he would be intercepted and had camouflaged his swords with them, shinned down into the garden with just enough time to gather some fallen branches, to pretend to be a gardener before he was spotted and how, even after recognizing the man from the road, had managed to escape. But nothing more about her.
How can I express in mortal words and tell anyone that because of her I became one with the gods, that when I had spread her wide and saw her I was drunk with craving, that when I entered her, I entered her as a lover and not a rapist, I don't know why but I did, slowly, carefully, and her arms went around me and she shuddered and held on though she never truly awoke and she was so tight and I held back and back and then poured forth in a way inconceivable.
I never believed it could be so marvelous, so sensual, so satisfying, so final. The others were nothing compared to her. She made me reach the stars but that is not why I left her alive. I thought about killing her very much. Then myself, there in the room.
But that would have been only selfish, to die at the crest of happiness, so content.
Oh how I wished to die. But my death belongs to sonno-joi. Only that. Not to me.
"Not killing her was a mistake," Hiraga said again, interrupting Ori's thought pattern.
"Shorin was right, killing her would have achieved our plan, better than anything."
"Yes."
"Then why?"
I left her alive for the gods, if there are gods, he could have said but did not. They possessed me and made me do what I did and I thank them. Now I am complete. I know life, all that remains to know is death. I was her first and she will remember me forever even though she slept. When she wakes and sees my writing in my own blood, not hers, she will know. I want her to live forever. I will die soon. Karma.
Ori put the cross into a secret sleeve pocket of his kimono and drank more of the refreshing green tea, feeling utterly fulfilled and so alive. "You said you had a raid?"
"Yes. We are going to burn the British Legation in Yedo."
"Good. Let it be soon."
"It is. Sonno-joi!"
At Yokohama, Sir William said angrily, "Tell them again, for the last time, by God, Her Majesty's Government demands immediate reparations of one hundred thousand pounds sterling in gold for allowing this unprovoked attack and murder of an Englishman--killing Englishmen is kinjiru by God! And also we demand possession of the Satsuma murderers within three days or we-will-take-definitive-action!"
He was across the bay in the small, stuffy audience room of the British Legation in Yokohama, flanked by the Prussian, French and Russian Ministers, both Admirals, British and French, the General, all of them equally exasperated.
In line opposite, seated ceremoniously on chairs, were two local representatives of the Bakufu, the chief samurai of the Settlement Guard, and the Governor of Kanagawa in whose jurisdiction Yokohama lay. They wore wide pantaloons and kimonos, and over them the broad-shouldered, winglike mantle that was belted, and two swords. Clearly all were uncomfortable and inwardly furious. At dawn, armed soldiers had hammered on the door of the Customs Houses, in both Yokohama and Kanagawa, with rifle butts and unprecedented anger, summoning the highest officials and Governor to an immediate conference at noon, the haste also unprecedented.
Between the two sides the interpreters sat on cushions. The Japanese knelt, and the other, a Swiss, Johann Favrod, sat cross-legged, their common language Dutch.
The meeting had already been in progress for two hours--English translated into Dutch into Japanese, into Dutch into English and back again. All Sir William's questions were misunderstood, or parried or needed repeating several times, delays were "requested" in a dozen different ways to "consult higher authorities to institute examinations and investigations" and "Oh yes, in Japan examinations are quite different from investigations. His Excellency, the Governor of Kanagawa, explains in detail that..." and "Oh His Excellency, the Governor of Kanagawa, wishes to explain in detail that he has no jurisdiction over Satsuma which is a separate kingdom..." and "Oh but His Excellency, the Governor of Kanagawa, understands the accused drew pistols threateningly and are accused and guilty of not obeying Japanese ancient customs..." and "How many foreigners did you say were in the foreign party who should have knelt and ... but our customs..."
Tedious, time-consuming, and complex lectures in Japanese by the Governor, put laboriously into far from fluent Dutch and retranslated into English.
"Make it blunt, Johann, exactly as I said it."
"I have, every time, Sir William, but I'm sure this cretin isn't interpreting accurately, either what you say or what the Jappers say."
"We know that for Christ's sake, has it ever been different? Please get on with it."
Johann put the words into an exact translation. The Japanese interpreter flushed, asked for an explanation of the word "immediate," then carefully delivered a polite, appropriate, approximate translation he considered would be acceptable. Even then the Governor sucked in his breath at the rudeness. The silence increased. His fingers tapped a constant, irritated tattoo on his sword hilt, then he spoke shortly, three or four words. The translation was long.
Johann said cheerfully, "Without all the merde, the Gov says he'll pass on your "request" at the appropriate time to the appropriate authorities."
Sir William reddened perceptibly, the Admirals and General more so. ""Request," eh? Tell the bugger exactly: It's not a request, it's a demand! And tell him further: We demand an IMMEDIATE audience with the Shogun in Yedo in three days! Three days by God! And I'm bloody arriving by battleship!"
"Bravo," Count Zergeyev muttered.
Johann was also weary of the game and gave the words a fine-tuned bluntness. The Japanese interpreter gasped and without waiting began a flood of acrimonious Dutch that Johann answered sweetly with two words that precipitated an aghast, sudden silence.
"Nan ja?" What is it, what's been said, the Governor asked angrily, not mistaking the hostility or hiding his own.
At once, apologetically, the flustered interpreter gave him a toned-down version but even so the Governor exploded into a paroxysm of threats and pleading and refusal and more threats that the interpreter translated into words he considered the foreigners wanted to hear, then, still rattled, listened again and translated again.
"What's he saying, Johann?" Sir William had to raise his voice above the noise, the interpreter was answering the Governor and Bakufu officials, who were chattering amongst themselves and to him. "What the devil are they saying?"
Johann was happy now--he knew the meeting would terminate in a few moments and he could return to the Long Bar for his lunch and schnapps.
"I don't know, except the Gov repeats the best he can do is to pass on your request etc. at the appropriate etc. but there's no way the Shogun will grant you the honor etc. because it's against their customs etc...."
Sir William slammed the flat of his hand onto the table. In the shocked silence, he pointed at the Governor then at himself. "Watashi ... me..." then he pointed out of the window towards Yedo. "Watashi go Yedo!" Then he raised three fingers. "THREE DAYS in a bloody battleship!" He got up and stormed out of the room. The others followed.