Toru: Wayfarer Returns (Sakura Steam Series Book 1)

by Stephanie R. Sorensen

  The Commodore emerged from the hold, fully dressed in spite of the heat in his finest dress uniform, his sword at his side.

  Tōru resisted the urge to bow. Not to this arrogant strutter. He held his silence as the Commodore approached.

  The Commodore was forced into making the first move. “Commodore Perry, United State Navy. You were in the reception this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “My officers said you had a message for me?”

  “Indeed.” He turned to the Commodore and raised his voice so it would carry to all the officers on deck. “This morning we received you and accepted your President’s letter with full courtesy out of respect for your President. May he rule forever in excellent health. This we did in spite of your refusal to submit your letter through our usual channels in Nagasaki and in violation of our own sacred laws. We are a peaceful people, but do not mistake our courtesy for weakness or an inability to defend our realm and people. You are well aware of our laws forbidding your entrance into our capital city. Yet here we find you, after our most courteous reception, knowingly violating our laws and turning north to our capital after promising to leave our shores. Over there, yes, you can see our beautiful capital Edo. You have seen it, now go.”

  “You—you speak English.”

  “Of course I do. So do most of the officials you met with this morning.” Another exaggeration, thought Tōru, but he could see he had the proud Perry off-balance and confused at last. Time to drive it all home. He bowed again, sending the final signal once more to his men above. He continued. “As I was saying, we are a peaceful people and wish to accept your President’s friendly message in like manner. We do not wish to harm any one of you, nor damage your magnificent ships. However, do not exhaust our patience. My Emperor and his Shogun sent me here to command you to turn your ships around. Never again approach our capital without their permission.”

  Commodore Perry opened his mouth to speak, still struck dumb at Tōru’s effortless English and commanding tone. Before he could continue, Tōru looked to the six empty fishing boats now clustered in position near the Susquehanna. The three dirigibles floated serenely directly above them.

  “If you refuse to leave now, and carry this message to your noble President along with our Gracious Emperor’s best wishes for his health, we will be forced to do this—” here Tōru made the same graceful gesture as before, this time toward the six doomed fishing boats, “—to your four ships, and to as many hundreds of ships as you might bring to our shores.”

  At his gesture, fifteen bombs fell on five ships, all with perfect accuracy. Tōru was sure now that someone had put extra explosives into the ships’ holds, for the explosions were truly spectacular, sending scraps of flaming wood high into the air, a few shreds even landing on the deck of the Susquehanna.

  American officers flinched and ducked for cover.

  “Ah, it appears they missed one,” said Tōru, in the most regretful tone he could muster. He appreciated the little touch of the “missed” target. Whoever dreamed that up deserved special recognition. It deepened the effect admirably. As though on cue, three underwater ships rose up from the sea before the astonished Americans, aimed their heavy guns and blew the small vessel to scraps before vanishing under the waves. By the looks on the American officers’ faces, further demonstrations were unnecessary.

  The owners of the remaining fishing boats would be grateful.

  “As I have delivered my message, I must bid you all farewell. Please give our best to your President. Oh, and I brought these back for you.”

  Tōru unstrapped the bound up white flags from his back. He looked around, but the smokestacks were far too tall for him to reach. He sighed. He had looked forward to telling the general he had followed his recommendation on the white flags.

  He raised his voice to make sure Perry’s officers could hear each word as he dropped the flags at Commodore Perry’s feet.

  The flagpoles clanked loudly on the deck and rolled onto the Commodore’s polished black boots.

  “We have no need for these. The sons of Yamato never surrender.” He bowed again, and climbed the Kagoshima’s ladder.

  CHAPTER 21

  HORIZON

  “A wild sea

  in the distance over Sado

  the Milky Way”

  – Matsuo Basho

  Perry and his Kurofune did as Tōru commanded.

  They turned south away from the capital and steamed out of Edo Bay, the sailing ships tugged along behind the smoke-belching pair of steamships. Admiral Jiro and the dirigible captains formed up a new V formation with Jiro’s Hakudo Maru at point.

  The airships kept a stately pace with the fleeing Black Ships, escorting them to the mouth of the bay and beyond, floating above the wide sparkling sea. Dusk was falling and the stars were coming out, bright in a sky demurely lit by the thin light of the new moon.

  The airship captains fretted about their fuel supplies as they drew further from shore. Turning in graceful formation at Admiral Jiro’s command, the new captains more confident and skilled now, the dragon fleet landed near Uraga on the starlit shore.

  Dancing, cheering commoners met the airships as they set down. Taiko drums beat the rhythm of the celebration as a hundred bonfires lit the coast. As the captains, the crews and the Shogun’s samurai spilled out of the airships, crowds met them with song.

  Word of their safe arrival had already flown along the telegraph wires to the Shogun and the Chief Councilor in Edo, and through wire and horseback messenger to the cloistered Emperor and his court in Kyoto. Messages of thanks and congratulations from both the Imperial Court and the Shogun flowed back to the Shogun’s waiting general in Uraga and the two magistrates who had played the part of “princes” for the morning’s receptions. They too waited in the crowd for the airship fleet’s captains.

  Tōru and Takamori found Jiro, Asano and Masuyo.

  The tumult gave them little opportunity to speak, but little needed to be said. They had driven away Perry and his Black Ships. Hoisting the Shogun’s banner above them, they were joined by the other jubilant captains. As he saw the general and the magistrates approach, Admiral Jiro called his captains to order, neatly arranged in rows. They saluted the general, who bowed to the captains.

  “The Emperor and his Shogun thank you all for your service.”

  From behind the general, another daimyō stepped forward.

  His armor and battle helmet glistened in the bonfire light. Tōru knew in an instant the face, the crest and the bearing of the man.

  “O-tō-sama. Father,” he whispered as he dropped to one knee.

  Lord Shimazu raised him up and stood for a long moment in silence regarding Tōru with shining eyes.

  “You have done well, my son,” said the lord in a voice clearly audible to the other officials and to Jiro, Masuyo and his retainers Saigo and Asano. “Okaeri. Welcome home.”

  Tōru stood tall, unable to speak.

  The magistrates and the Shogun’s general, who also knew well the famed tōzama lord, looked at each other in wonderment at the greeting Lord Shimazu made to the fisherman. Lord Shimazu’s son?

  Recovering his composure, Tōru gestured to his friends to step forth. “Let me introduce my friends. Admiral Jiro, of Iwamatsu. Lady Aya, daughter of Lord Aya, the daimyō who found me. Your retainers, Captain Asano and Captain Saigo of our new air force. Without them, and our other captains of airships and underwater ships, we would have no victory today.”

  Lord Shimazu exchanged grave bows with each of them, his manners impeccable as though it were nothing out of the ordinary for him to greet a blacksmith and a woman as soldiers on the field of battle, murmuring congratulations to each.

  “The Shogun awaits us. Perhaps after your performance today we can get this death sentence lifted for the two of you, na?” Lord Shimazu smiled for the first time, and Tōru and Takamori exchanged grins and laughed. “Lady Aya, will you join us?”

  Masuyo blushed and bow
ed her acceptance, suddenly shy to be in her airship captain uniform in front of the famed daimyō.

  The refueled Kagoshima Maru and the Hakudo Maru, carrying the remainder of the airship captains, lifted up into the starry sky and sped toward Edo. Bonfires blazed all along the coast, marking each village and town, a necklace of flaming jewels along the water’s edge. They could hear the drums and singing of the people below.

  As they approached the great capital, though the hour was now late, they found it too was lit with ten thousand lanterns and thrumming with the beat of drums.

  Tōru found Masuyo standing alone at the prow.

  She had never looked more beautiful, her hair loosened from its tight bun by the wind. The high collar of her long coat framed her lovely face as she watched the celebrations below them along the coast. She turned and smiled as he approached, the smile of the victorious airship captain, the wicked jesting Masuyo working in her lab, galloping astride her horse, or singing a dirty song with Jiro.

  He was suddenly tongue-tied, wanting to reach out and tuck out of the way a long lock of her glossy hair that had escaped its bounds and blown across her face. He looked down, no more the conquering hero but just a boy who loved a girl he could not have. A girl who didn’t even want him because he was a traditional fool not wise enough to let her fly as high as she knew how. When he looked up again, her broad grin had vanished. She looked at him, her eyes soft and tender, inviting him to say more.

  “I’m sorry. I never should have doubted you.”

  She didn’t reply, but smiled at him again for the first time in days. It was too much. Gripping the gunwale, he broke their gaze and pointed at the blazing bonfires below.

  “So bright. So many.” He was indeed an idiot. But he couldn’t speak of anything…important.

  “Yes,” she said simply, as they stared down at the lights below together, not speaking, until at last the Kagoshima Maru and the Hakudo Maru set down in a courtyard within Chiyoda Castle.

  The Shogun’s general led them in procession through the maze of gates and courtyards and hallways leading to the Naku-oku. Lord Shimazu and his honor guard followed close behind, including Saigo and Asano, now wearing the Shimazu mon of a cross within a circle once more. After came Tōru and Masuyo, and Admiral Jiro, with the rest of the airship captains and crew bringing up the rear.

  The Shogun’s samurai cheered them as they passed, all doing their best to keep their faces impassive and humble.

  As they entered the Shogun’s reception hall, Lord Abe helped the ailing Shogun to his feet. As the Shogun struggled to stand, his eyes flickered over Lord Shimazu and widened.

  Lord Shimazu bowed silent greetings to his old adversary.

  The Shogun Tokugawa Ieyoshi, his title and role slipping from him with each halting breath of his failing body, nodded to his Chief Councilor to speak for him as he trembled with the effort of holding himself erect.

  Lord Abe stepped forward and made a long and impressive speech acknowledging the victory and the bravery of those who had made it possible. He signaled to his bureaucrats. One stepped forward with two declarations stamped with the Shogun’s seal.

  Lord Abe presented the documents to Tōru and Saigo Takamori with great ceremony.

  “With the thanks of our great Emperor and his Shogun for your service to His Majesty, your sentences of death are hereby declared null and void.”

  Tōru and Takamori bowed their thanks and accepted the declarations from Lord Abe.

  The general who had accompanied them from Uraga came forward next, trailed by two samurai carrying the rosewood boxes and the dreaded letters. He handed them over to Lord Abe who took them in hand as though they held writhing snakes.

  “We will discuss these tomorrow. Tonight we celebrate.”

  When they were finally free to leave behind Chiyoda, the Kagoshima Maru and the Hakudo Maru took flight once again.

  Lord Abe, his duties done for the moment, escorted them to their airships. “May I join you? I would experience these marvelous ships myself.”

  Once in the air, Lord Abe’s delight in flight was unlimited. As he oriented himself, he commanded, “Set us down in my compound, over there. We will rest tonight at my home.”

  Ever the consummate host, he insisted the entire party, all the airship captains and Lord Shimazu and the rest, stay at his compound for the night. Many of the rebel lords were on hand to greet them. Lord Date, from the north, and Lord Aya and Lord Tōmatsu and many others, brought in by their flagships.

  The fleet hovered above Lord Abe’s compound, each blazing with a ring of lanterns as though the stars themselves had danced down to gaze on the celebration below. Even though it was near the middle of the night, Lord Abe’s servants brought forth dish after delectable dish to feed the heroes. He kept their cups full of the finest saké until dawn lightened the eastern sky.

  As the toasts and boasts grew quieter, Tōru and Masuyo found a sheltered spot by the koi pond behind the great home. They sat together in silence, watching the still surface of the pond and listening to the songs and toasts up in the main house.

  Lord Abe approached them, trailed by the lords Aya, Tōmatsu and Shimazu. He stood silently with them for a moment before commenting on the beauty of the Amanogawa, the Milky Way, glowing above the horizon. He cleared his throat and coughed delicately. Masuyo and Tōru turned to face him.

  “Lord Shimazu has consulted with Lord Aya…about a matter…of some importance. The two lords have asked me…to speak for them…and inquire…into your own thoughts on the matter,” said Lord Abe. “That is to say…Lord Aya and Lord Shimazu…being in agreement on the matter…would welcome the adoption of Himasaki as mukoyōshi into House Aya. That is, if this proposal meets with your approval.”

  Tōru turned to Masuyo and saw her answer in her eyes.

  Still, a warrior must brave the battle.

  “Will you have me, Toranosuke?” he whispered low, so low no one else could hear.

  Masuyo leaned toward him. “Yes, fisherman, as long as I can still ride and fly and run our lab.”

  The couple rose and faced their fathers.

  They bowed their acceptance of their fathers’ proposal.

  They bowed deeper thanks to matchmaker Lord Abe.

  Their friends burst out around them, Asano smiling gravely as always, Jiro chanting a rude wedding song, and Takamori tackling Tōru, as the dawn sky lit up a new day.

  Ships, black ships, would come from across the sea again.

  Together they would be ready.

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Tōru: Wayfarer Returns is the first book in the Sakura Steam Series, an alternate history of the tumultuous period from the opening of Japan in 1853 to the Meiji Restoration in 1868. This volume covers the year prior to the American Commodore Perry’s arrival in Japan and follows the hero and his young allies as they lead Japan through a massively compressed industrial revolution, dramatically altering that pivotal moment in history in their favor.

  A few scholars trace the twin tragedies of Hiroshima and Pearl Harbor back to the humiliation suffered by Japan at Perry’s hands in 1853. While that may be an extreme view, I have pondered the question of “what would Japan’s path—and the world’s—have been if the Japanese had possessed the military might and the will to drive Perry away instead of opening under duress as they did?”

  The Sakura Steam Series explores this “what if” question.

  This may not be a steampunk story at all, a determination I leave to the reader and any steampunk purists determined to defend the borders of true steampunkedness. My alternate history is laced with touches of steampunk, like the dirigible fleet, submarines and Babajis, but carries its steampunk DNA mostly in the story’s examination of a traditional society’s response to technological change. Unlike traditional steampunk stories that unfold in a world already steampunk, the story of Tōru and his friends begins in the “real” world and together they create a steam-driven alternate un
iverse, with a dramatic impact on the course of history.

  Tōru is Prometheus, bringing the fire of Western technology to Japan, but it is Jiro the engineer and Masuyo the inventor who best embody the steampunk joy in inventing, tinkering and making and who best demonstrate in their own individual liberation from traditional constraints the steampunk impulse to “create a better past” as they each take flight at the helms of their own airships.

  While my heroes and their dirigibles are fictional, I built my story against a backdrop of the “real” cultural and historical Japan of that period, and wove historical figures into my tale, staying true to their motivations and agendas even as my alternate history warped their actions, history and a few laws of physics.

  Tōru, Masuyo, Jiro, Lord Aya and Lord and Lady Tōmatsu are completely fictional. Fictitious characters named for and inspired by real historical people include Commodore Perry, the Shogun and his Chief Councilor, Lord Abe, as well as the rebellious tōzama “outer lords” represented by Lord Shimazu of the Satsuma domain in the southwest and Lord Date in the far north. Saigo Takamori is real as well, met here before he steps into the pages of history.

  To my knowledge, Lord Shimazu Naraikiri did not have an illegitimate son to send to America, although in later years he did send many young men abroad to study foreign technology. The real Lord Shimazu was famous for his love of learning and his fierce curiosity about the West, building schools of Western learning in his domain and drilling his soldiers in Western military tactics. He also imported the first camera into Japan and ordered the first Western-style ship built for Japan. I like to think he would have sent Tōru to America if Tōru had existed.

  The true story of a shipwrecked fisherman named Manjirō inspired my tale of a boy brave enough to return to Japan during the sakoku isolation period. Manjiro was taken to America after his 1841 shipwreck, and found his way back to Japan in 1851 where he did play a role in sharing his learning about the West and translating during the negotiations to open Japan to the West. He too was raised to samurai status, but in service to the Shogun rather than my fictional and rebellious Lord Aya. Unlike poor Tōru, Manjiro was able to reunite with his mother. Like Tōru, Manjiro argued for a positive image of America, Americans and their leaders’ intentions.