“They must have wanted her skills as a healer to treat the injured. Their progress will be slow.”
Cisneros shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why did they restrain Imagawa? Wouldn’t she want to go with them?”
“Imagawa achieved her objective. She accepted she must return to Japan and meet her fate. The others were not so sanguine to face punishment.”
The captain narrowed his gaze. “Then why did she follow? She knew we’d be here soon.”
“Her men turned against her. Imagawa seeks revenge.”
The captain spat on the ground. Gonzalez aboard the Ballena would begin to worry if he lingered too long ashore. The first mate might even do something foolish like try to come ashore himself. The Ballena wouldn’t last long if the Russian ship returned.
Despite that, Cisneros didn’t feel he had a choice. The Calamar had a full fuel supply and the samurai had as much as a four-day head start on foot. He checked his weapons and returned to the submersible with Hoshi close behind. They climbed aboard and activated the chemical steam engine. “Hang onto your seat. This will be a rough ride,” he said.
The captain engaged the clutch and the Calamar rolled forward, flattening the flood plain’s grasses and scrub brush. He hoped wounded samurai chose to follow the river as long as possible. Near the coast, the flood plain was a mile or more wide. The Calamar couldn’t follow long if they turned into the woodlands surrounding them on each side. He swallowed and opened the throttle.
* * *
Imagawa followed Nanbu’s trail as it disappeared into the forest. Anger and disgust seethed within her. She would have welcomed a duel, but the coward ordered her own men to bind her and leave her behind for Cisneros to discover. She wouldn’t let the insult stand. What’s more, Fatemeh held insights into this new era she found useful. Nanbu could have stayed put until more men could travel. Simple impatience dictated Fatemeh’s abduction, which in turn violated the code of Bushido.
A bitter smile formed as she thought of Hoshi’s devotion to the code. The samurai steeped Bushido and swords with idealism. She treasured her sword, but preferred a pistol or rifle in battle any day. She reached down and felt the shark skin sword handle. Despite her preferences, Imagawa smiled at the thought of hacking Nanbu to pieces for his betrayal. Nanbu proved himself both a coward and an idiot. He should have taken her sword. Instead, he left it stuck in the ground near Apodaca and Rodriguez’s bodies.
She hiked through the spruce and fir forest. Although the others had a day’s head start, she believed she could catch up. She didn’t believe Fatemeh could maintain a forced march, and at least five others were wounded. Their path through the flood plain had been clumsy and easy to follow. She faced little additional difficulty among the forest’s trees.
Ominous, dark clouds formed overhead and a chill wind blew, causing her to pull her Haori closed around her neck. She wished for a proper coat or cloak, but appreciated her boots. Her lips grew parched and she realized she needed water and the river had grown distant.
An hour later, she heard a trickling. She paused for a moment and listened. The path to the water diverged from the trail she followed. Ten men could be loud and boisterous. Perhaps they hadn’t heard or perhaps they didn’t need water yet. She barred her teeth and stripped some bark from a tree on the trail, so she could find her way back, then pursued the sound to its source.
She knelt beside a small stream and lifted icy water to her lips. As she did, snow began to waft down from the sky. She took another drink then stood up with a curse. Her stomach rumbled, but she hated to take time to eat lest snow obscure the trail. She grabbed a piece of dried fish from her pack and chewed as she walked.
The cloudy skies made it difficult to tell time. The snow remained light, but the clouds grew darker. Either the storm threatened to worsen or night prepared to fall.
With no way to light her path, Imagawa followed the trail a short distance further, then sat down at the tree’s base. The branches overhead kept the ground snow free. She removed a blanket from her pack and wrapped up in it as best she could, hoping it would not grow so cold she would freeze to death.
As she drifted off to sleep, a hooting sounded. Her eyes popped open and she looked up into a birch tree’s branches. An owl gazed down.
“Go bother someone else, bird. I’m no prey for you.”
The owl launched itself from the branch and flew off through the trees. As her eyes drifted shut, she envied the owl and its power of flight. She wondered what the bird would do if it could no longer fly.
* * *
Fatemeh carried a light pack compared to those the samurai hefted. It contained the medical supplies salvaged from The Brazen Shark. Several times she looked for ways to escape, but didn’t feel she could disappear far enough into the dense forest to elude recapture.
Relief washed over her when they came to a small river and Nanbu ordered them to make camp for the night. She dropped her pack and tried to rub some feeling back into her shoulders. Nanbu ordered the uninjured men to gather firewood. Fatemeh had no reason to expect Imagawa to follow. The smart plan would be to stay put and wait for Cisneros. Even if Imagawa did follow, Fatemeh couldn’t decide if it would help her own situation.
The most wounded samurai’s leg suffered a serious cut. She leaned over and reached for the bandage. He gasped air and shouted in Japanese. Nanbu overheard and shouted a response. She didn’t understand well enough to tell for sure, but she gathered Nanbu ordered him to let her do what she needed.
She unwrapped the crusted and brown bandages, revealing an angry red infection. She could have prevented it if they’d stopped more often. Fatemeh found a cloth in her pack, took it to the water, soaked it, and brought it back. When she applied the icy water to the wound, the samurai yelled again. “That’s nothing,” she said as she retrieved an iodine bottle from the pack and poured it on, hoping to slow the infection.
The warrior squinted his eyes shut, but grabbed his sword. Despite the implied threat, Fatemeh found a slim bandage roll and wrapped the wound anew. By the time she finished, she smelled smoke. The samurai had started a fire. Her stomach rumbled as she anticipated even a meager meal.
She moved on to the next man, whose arm had several lacerations. He no longer bled and she saw no infection. Conserving the bandages, she washed the wound and left it uncovered.
As she finished tending the wounded men, snow dusted the ground. She pulled out a slim blanket from her pack and moved close to the fire. Nanbu handed her a plate. “Arigato,” she said.
He grunted and nodded.
The slim piece of dried fish seemed to mock her. She determined to take her time and make it last, but the flavor almost made her gag. She swallowed it down with some water and her stomach rumbled again. She wondered how much progress Ramon made as she watched the snow fall toward the flames and evaporate.
As the darkness deepened, Nanbu shooed her away from the fire so the most wounded could have warmth. She had no argument. She did her best to cover herself with the blanket and despite shivering, drifted off to sleep.
Later, a fluttering in a nearby fir tree awakened her. An owl’s orange, glowing eyes peered down at her, and it hooted. She understood at least one person followed. She sat up and looked around. All the samurai slept. Had they bothered to post a guard?
She hooted at the owl. It flew off a short distance. Nanbu reached out, grabbed a rock, and pitched it. She didn’t understand the words, but gathered he hoped to shoo away the owl. The warrior rolled over and released a loud snore.
Fatmeh counted bodies. All lay around the fire. She decided to take a chance. She slung her blanket over her shoulders and eschewed her pack for one with food. As she followed the owl toward the nearest trees, her foot landed on a twig and it snapped. She froze.
“Where are you going?” came Nanbu’s sleep-thickened voice.
“I need to pee.” She hoped she’d used the right words in Japanese.
It must have been c
lose enough. He grunted and rolled over. The owl hooted again. Fatemeh needed no further encouragement. She followed it into the woods.
Chapter Eighteen
Giants and Their Neighbors
The sky lightened somewhat with twilight’s arrival. The sparse dusting of snow brightened the terrain just enough for Fatemeh to backtrack the samurai’s trail. Although grateful the snow didn’t drift, she left clear footprints. If the samurai chose to pursue her, they would have an easy job. She hoped the sun would come out and melt the snow, but the looming overcast kept her hopes low. Perhaps they would delay a search, trusting she would need to return for food or water.
She looked up when the owl hooted.
She had strayed off the path and the owl chastened her. Although she told people owls didn’t speak, she understood the owl’s meaning better than she understood some people. She found it more difficult to articulate why the owl chose to help her. Bahá’í teachings focused on human interaction, but they also taught progressive revelation. They taught that God manifested himself through the ages and revealed more and more of his teachings as humanity grew.
If true, it stood to reason progressive revelation must comprise Buddhist teachings. Buddhists taught that self was illusion and all life was connected. It seemed the spirits of owls and other animals must be connected to the spirits of humans. She looked forward to the day she could speak to those Bahá’í teachers close to Bahá’u’lláh, the manifestation of God, to see what they thought.
As Fatemeh approached a wide spot in the path, a figure leapt out from behind a tree, katana held high.
Fatemeh stood, foggy breath bursting from her mouth in discreet clouds. Imagawa lowered the blade, sheathed it, and gave a respectful nod. “You escaped,” she said in Japanese. “I’m impressed.” Imagawa’s breath also came out in little white puffs.
Fatemeh looked at her in the kimono, haori, and hakama. She must be freezing. “We should return to the coast and meet Captain Cisneros.” Fatemeh thought she mangled some of the words, but pointed down the trail. Imagawa looked where she pointed. Impatient, the owl stood on a tree branch and hooted.
After a moment’s consideration, Imagawa shook her head. “I will kill Nanbu for what he did.”
Fatemeh’s sigh manifested in a thick cloud. “Leave them.” Her sleep-deprived mind struggled to find words. “Fighting them does no good.”
“My soul is damaged,” said Imagawa. “I have suffered too many defeats of late. I cannot let Nanbu’s betrayal stand.”
“Killing Nanbu won’t restore your honor. You regain honor by returning to Tokyo to face justice and contribute to a new, healthy Japan.”
Imagawa frowned, but considered Fatemeh’s argument. In the silence which followed, Fatemeh noticed a crunching sound and a faint glow through the trees. Imagawa heard it too and summoned Fatemeh into the trees’ shadows. The owl fluttered away. Fatemeh had assumed it hooted because it wanted her to follow. Did it warn of impending danger? Sometimes her understanding proved less than perfect.
The man who ambled into the clearing wore trousers and a frock coat. He hitched up his pants and lifted a lantern, studying the tracks in the soil. As he glanced around, Fatemeh recognized Onofre Cisneros. She emerged from the tree cover. “Captain. It’s good to see you.” Imagawa appeared beside her, but stopped short when Hoshi appeared, also holding a lantern.
The captain smiled. He set the lantern down and grabbed Fatemeh in a hug. The impropriety set her teeth on edge, but his body’s warmth felt so good, she reached around and returned the hug anyway. He let go and looked ready to hug Imagawa as well, but she stepped back with her hand on the sword’s hilt. The captain made a wise choice and let her be.
“You seem delighted to see us.” Fatemeh’s foggy brain worked to speak English again after thinking in rudimentary Japanese for the last few days. More than anything, she wanted a good, strong cup of coffee.
“I feared you’d been killed or I wouldn’t be able to find you,” said the captain. “I hated to leave you the other day, but didn’t have another choice. The Calamar allowed me to catch up. It took just four hours to cover the ground you covered in three days.”
“What about Ramon? Is he with you?”
Cisneros gave a sly smile. “He’s traveling to St. Petersburg to see if he can negotiate a peace between the Japanese and the Russians.”
“Without me?” The emotions washing over Fatemeh startled her. Pride at him taking this step warred with jealousy that he made the trip without her.
Hoshi stepped up. “I presume the other samurai are ahead and do not wish to join us.”
“No.” Fatemeh pursed her lips. She wanted to get back to the Ballena and discuss things in a warm cabin, but a sense of responsibility prickled at her. “Do the Japanese expect us to bring the samurai along?”
“Do you really think we could persuade them to go if they don’t want to?” Cisneros shrugged. “What will happen to them anyway? This far into autumn, they’ll either die out here in the woods or they’ll make it to China. Either way, I doubt they’ll make much more trouble for Japan.”
Fatemeh turned to see what Imagawa thought, but she had vanished.
Cisneros scanned the trees. “Where’d she go?”
“No doubt she’s gone to confront Nanbu,” said Hoshi.
Fatemeh cursed under her breath. “We should follow her.”
Cisneros shook his head. “I have no intention of tangling with samurai warriors. If they have differences to settle, we should let them.”
“I won’t just let Imagawa throw her life away if I can avoid it. I disagree with her, but I think she and Japan need each other.” Fatemeh picked up her pack and turned. Like Imagawa, Hoshi had vanished.
Cisneros reached out and grabbed Fatemeh’s arm. “What will you do when you catch up with her? You can’t force her to go with us. She’ll overpower you.”
“I hope I’ll be able to talk some sense into her.” Fatemeh set out. The owl hooted. A minute later, Captain Cisneros’s boots crunched on the frosty ground.
* * *
Ramon fell asleep to a tale of warriors on a distant planet. The warriors looked human—almost. They had orange skin and large black eyes. Writhing and wriggling purple mustaches hung under their noses. Despite their differences, they built tools, loved, fought, and lived lives much as humans did. One day, a woman moved into town who could build machines like no one else had seen. Her machines could lift heavy objects with ease and manipulate matter to form new materials. Some called her a witch and threatened to drive her away until a warrior stood up for her.
Ramon awoke with a start, half expecting to find himself on the distant world, but he found himself aboard the Japanese airship. After getting his bearings, Ramon considered the story’s veracity as he pondered its resemblance to the story he shared with Fatemeh.
“I have seen millions of worlds,” said Legion within Ramon’s mind. “The story happened, but I did pick it because it resembled your story.”
Ramon’s anger threatened to take control. He threw back the blankets and sat up on the bedroll, but then stopped. He looked around at the sunlight streaming into the simple, clean cabin of wood and paper. He shivered and hoped the Japanese would figure out a way to heat their airships without risking fire.
Calmer, Ramon whispered, “You’re still in my mind?”
“I have not pried. I simply observed your sleep patterns. You seem troubled.”
“I hope Fatemeh will be all right.”
“I could find out if Cisneros knows.”
Ramon shook his head. He climbed from blankets, poured water in a basin and splashed it over his face until he awakened more. Thinking of the lightweight, thin walls, Ramon closed his eyes and thought the next words. Why did you stay in my mind? Why did you watch me?
“Fatemeh stays with you. She sometimes watches you when you sleep.”
Ramon snorted and sought his trousers. Do you remember the story I told you about the adults
who helped me overcome the pain of my father’s death?
“Of course.”
Have you ever been a teacher? Ramon grabbed a shirt and walked over to the porthole and looked out.
Legion remained silent for so long, Ramon thought he had left. A moment later, he felt more than heard a response in the negative.
The Bonchō drifted over an expansive blue lake. Ramon thought Fatemeh would love the sight and wished she were there to see it with him.
You’ve seen the harm which comes from manipulating people, and when I feel you’re close to doing that it upsets me. Ramon sighed and spoke aloud. “You have good insights. Please tell me if you think I’m making any mistakes.”
“I think leaving Fatemeh behind was a mistake,” said Legion. “She is your best teacher and best advisor.”
“I know she is.”
A soft knock sounded at the door. Ramon walked over and slid it aside to reveal Lord Katsu’s mechanical servant. It held out a coffee carafe. Behind him stood Itō. “Sorry to disturb you, but I heard you speak. I gather Americans prefer coffee to tea.”
Ramon’s cheeks flushed and he nodded. “Thanks, just thinking aloud. Are we still on for Russian lessons?”
Itō nodded. “Starting in half an hour.”
The mechanical man closed the door and words formed in Ramon’s mind. Is he the future you see for man?
“Oh, no.” Although silent, Legion empathized. “He is far too fragile. In fact he is far more fragile than you.” Legion paused. “We were speaking of advisors.”
Ramon nodded as he put on his shirt and suspenders. “Until Fatemeh’s beside me again, will you be my advisor? Don’t tell me the answers. Just help me see the right road to travel.”
“I would be delighted to.” Pleasurable waves emanated from Legion. “It allows me the opportunity to see how this all comes out.” Another silence ensued and Ramon tossed on a waistcoat and prepared to find Mendeleev and Itō to start the day’s lessons. “Can you ever forgive me for what I’ve done to humanity?”
Ramon stopped, surprised. “Why does a creature like you need my forgiveness?” He didn’t bother to lower his voice.
The Brazen Shark Page 22