by Jeannie Lin
“The karakuri took us years to build,” Takeda explained. “We did it for art . . . and for pride. Easier to train a soldier in terms of efficiency.”
But I could see Chang-wei was thinking, laying out his own designs.
“Shina-jin, you should come see this.”
Makoto called to us from the far window where the paper had mostly worn away. In the distance, I could see an orange light, brighter than the earlier sunset.
Chang-wei moved to the window, each step labored. His strength was fading. Despite that, he hurried outside a moment later. I rushed to follow him into the night air with Makoto and Lord Takeda immediately behind me.
“What is it?” I asked, alarmed.
He had rushed to the edge of the plateau, where we had a view of Nagasaki Bay as well as the port city. At the edge of the city lay the airfield where we had landed. Plumes of black smoke rose into the sky to disappear into the night.
Our airship was on fire.
Chapter Eighteen
“We have to get back to the Chinese quarter.”
Chang-wei returned to the schoolhouse to retrieve our packs and call for Satomi. There was no more time to waste.
“It could be a trap,” Makoto argued.
“They’ll be looking for us,” Chang-wei agreed, but he didn’t slow his pace.
I didn’t know how long he could continue pushing like this. When I took hold of his arm, he was burning with fever.
“We need to think this over,” I said in a low voice.
He looked at me, and I could see the redness in the rim of his eyes. “The shogunate is trying to strand us here. Any ally we have is within the walls of Chinese settlement.”
They wanted Chang-wei. Somehow they knew an imperial engineer had come to their shores, and they wanted him under their control.
“We can try the Dutch,” Takeda suggested. “Dejima Island is close to the Chinese quarter.”
“And we’ll have a fine time passing as Westerners,” Makoto scoffed. “Better chances in the Tōjin yashiki. Let’s go.”
He muttered something about mad scientists as we started down the hillside. I took Chang-wei’s side as we walked.
“There are . . . other ways . . . off the islands,” he said, his breathing labored between each word.
“That isn’t what I’m worried about.” That wasn’t entirely true, but there was something more urgent. “You’re weakening quickly.”
I could almost see the life draining from him. Whatever they had done was bleeding him dry.
“What did they give you? If you want my help, you need to tell me.” I wasn’t going to accept any more lies from him.
“It was . . . it was a measure to ensure my loyalty. A blood oath. They were trying to frighten me. I didn’t believe anything would come of it.”
My chest constricted. “What did they do?”
Chang-wei sighed, pressing a hand to his temples. “They summoned the grandmaster imperial physician.”
I frowned. “There’s no such person.”
“Apparently the grandmaster lives as a recluse in one of the temples within the palace grounds. The man looked like he was at least a hundred years old.”
He was right. It sounded more like myth than reality.
“He fixed five needles into what he claimed were forbidden points,” Chang-wei continued. “I knew they were playing into superstitions and nothing more.”
Forbidden points were mentioned in every acupuncture manual, though some were openly passed on and others merely hinted at. The premise was simple—just as acupuncture could heal, it could harm. Even kill. From these few words, many legends had spread of a death touch. A slight pressure at key points that could cause major injury or death.
Of course it sounded like groundless mysticism to a man of science such as Chang-wei.
“If I didn’t return, the energy released from the forbidden points would stop my heart. It’s nonsense.”
The way he pressed his hand to his chest told me he wasn’t so certain anymore.
“If this is all nonsense, then what’s happening to you?” I demanded.
He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s coincidence, Soling. We need to stay focused.”
Chang-wei was stubborn, but he was also right. We needed to get to safety.
We stowed our weapons as we neared the city limits. Despite being injured, Makoto moved to the front. With him and Lord Takeda at the lead, we moved with purpose into Nagasaki. The streets only looked vaguely familiar to me. We had ventured out only once and at a much later hour.
This evening, the streets were filled with pedestrians. Lanterns hung by the doors, and the smell of sandalwood incense wafted into the street. It was only when I heard the chorus of female laughter that I realized where we were.
We were in the brothel district on the outskirts of town. Strategically, it made sense for smuggling routes to pass through there. No one questioned why there were new faces in the area or why they were gone the next day.
No one paid the colorful song girls and hostesses any mind, except for Satomi, who couldn’t look away.
“Such could have been my fate,” she told me.
It could have been mine as well. Wives and daughters from families that had fallen into disgrace often went to tea houses and brothels.
The airship still smoldered in the distance, visible only as a haze of smoke. None of the city dwellers paid it much mind beyond an occasional glance. What we didn’t know was what was happening in the Chinese quarter. Were the shogunate’s agents searching every shop and drinking house now?
The distillery appeared as empty as it had when we’d left. Makoto opened the door. After a brief inspection, he ushered everyone inside and slid the wooden bolt in place behind us.
We wove through the maze of vats and pipes. Even though I’d been through it once before, I wouldn’t have remembered how to get to the hidden passageway. Makoto opened a panel in the floor, which led down to the storeroom where we first entered.
Once we were all down below, Makoto lit several lanterns, handing one to Chang-wei and the other to Takeda.
“I’ll go first. If I encounter any danger down there, I’ll signal you. Run back as fast as you can.”
“You’ve already done enough,” Chang-wei told him. “There’s no need for you to endanger yourself any further.”
Makoto shook his head. “We are all in this together now. Besides, you would get hopelessly lost without me.”
Chang-wei moved to help Makoto push aside the crates from the passageway. One by one, we crawled into the hole in the wall. On the other side, a large brick was shoved in place to seal the opening.
The first time we’d navigated these tunnels, it had been completely dark. Now, with the lanterns, I could see how extensive they were. A corridor passed through the entry point into the distillery. Makoto led us through, and as I walked in the maze, I wondered if there were other passageways throughout Nagasaki. There must have been. The tunnels split off at places, snaking away into parts unknown.
Finally we reached a dead end where a ladder had been propped up against the dirt wall.
“Is this our destination?” Lord Takeda asked.
Makoto nodded. His hand was pressed to his side. I prayed he hadn’t reopened the wound. He wasn’t the sort who would complain about it if he did. Makoto was the sort who would bleed to death, silent and stoic.
“I’ll go first,” Lord Takeda offered, not mentioning Makoto’s injury. Satomi moved forward to hand him her pistol, but he waved it aside.
Chang-wei helped him set the ladder and held on to it to stabilize it as Lord Takeda climbed to the trapdoor. With some effort, he pushed it open, but he paused on the ladder with his face aboveground, hidden from view.
“What is it, Takeda-sama?” Satomi asked.
�
�Not good,” came the muffled reply. “Not good.”
Moments later, we all walked through the wreckage of the teahouse by the dim light of our lanterns. Shards of porcelain lay strewn over the floor. Lord Takeda stopped before the shattered frame of one of the tea-serving karakuri. The puppet lay sad and broken at his feet.
“This does not seem like the work of the bakufu,” Takeda said gravely.
“The shogunate has certainly shown itself capable of violence,” Chang-wei remarked.
I edged closer to him as a shudder traveled down my spine. The air itself felt oppressive. My instinct was to flee, but who knew what waited for us out in the quarter?
“I understand what Takeda-sama is saying,” Satomi chimed in. “The samurai way is one of efficiency. Of swift justice. This—” She took in the rubble around us. “This was blind.”
A sound came from the far wall, making us jump. Satomi spun around with her firearm raised, and Takeda and Makoto were quick to reach for their swords. Chang-wei shoved me behind him, shielding me with his body.
I heard the sound of a wooden door sliding open. “Are they gone?”
It was Yelu, the teahouse proprietor, crouched inside one of the service panels. Makoto lowered his arm to help him up.
“The authorities from the customs office came looking for you,” he told Chang-wei, his voice trembling. “It was the opium. They found opium in your cargo hold.”
Chang-wei and I exchanged a glance.
“There was no opium on that ship.” I turned to our comrades. “We came here to seek an alliance.”
“Perhaps your captain didn’t have the same goal,” Makoto replied coldly.
“This voyage was approved by the Grand Council,” Chang-wei said. “They wouldn’t have allowed opium into our hold.”
“It wasn’t opium,” I cut in, the realization coming to me. “There was something more incriminating aboard the airship.”
“The signal receiver.” Chang-wei shook his head. “It was hidden, but—”
“But if the trade authorities found it, they would assume we were spies.”
“Or scientists,” Lord Takeda proposed. “The shogunate planted the opium so it could destroy your airship and keep you here in Nagasaki.” He looked directly at Chang-wei. “Just as I am valuable to your Emperor, Engineer Chen is valuable to our shogunate. They wanted Engineer Chen. They may have even allowed you to leave the settlement and journey deeper into the countryside. Then none of your countrymen could witness your capture.”
It was all becoming clear. “From the moment we set foot in Nagasaki, we were trapped.”
By then we had all come to the same conclusion, but it was Chang-wei who spoke. “Someone acted as an informer.”
* * *
The proprietor scurried from the teahouse as soon as he was convinced we wouldn’t harm him. He had kept his part of the bargain well enough by not informing on us. Our party was left with the problem of what to do now that we were wanted criminals, each and every one of us.
“We can go back out through the tunnels,” Makoto suggested. “Hide away in the countryside.”
Chang-wei shook his head. “The only way out of Japan is through this port. We can’t go back.”
Though he fought to hold himself steady, sweat collected on his brow. The fever was burning through him.
“Without our airship, we’re stranded.” I tried to remain calm. “Will anyone allow us passage?”
“There’s always someone willing to bend the rules for the right price.” Chang-wei didn’t look so certain.
There were only a handful of Chinese ships in the harbor, all captained by men who depended on Japanese trade for their livelihood.
“But there might be another way,” Chang-wei continued. “A potential ally inside the settlement.”
“Who?” I asked.
“As I said, he’s a potential ally. He might help, or he might not.”
Which meant it was someone we couldn’t trust.
Satomi finished checking her firearms while Takeda went to check the streets.
I turned to Makoto. “Your duty to us is done. It would be no dishonor to leave now.”
“We finish this together,” the swordsman said gravely.
“There isn’t much time. The guard patrol might return.” Chang-wei retrieved a folded map from his pocket and held it close to the lantern. “We need to go to the northwestern quarter.”
A dark look passed over Makoto’s face. “That is where the wealthiest tojin set up residence. Chinese traders,” he replied at my puzzled expression.
I remembered seeing the spacious courtyards from overhead as we flew into the airfield.
“The streets are clear,” Takeda reported.
Chang-wei directed him to the back of the group along with Satomi. Though Lord Takeda was a man of science, his grip on the katana spoke of more than a passing familiarity with the weapon as we prepared to venture out. Makoto begrudgingly took the center while I took Chang-wei’s side at the head.
“How are you?” I asked beneath my breath.
“I’m fine.” There was strain in his voice. Could stimulation of forbidden points really cause a man to waste away so quickly?
We spilled out from the teahouse into the dark alleys of the warehouse district. After a scan of the area, Chang-wei turned to the right.
“Engineer Chen.”
A voice called out in the darkness, and we all froze.
“Captain Zhao?”
Chang-wei kept the rifle hidden behind his back, but I watched his grip shift slightly as he prepared to swing it around if necessary. A dark figure moved through the lane, gradually taking form as he ventured closer to our lanterns.
“Where were you?” Zhao asked in a muted tone. “They took the ship.”
“Why didn’t they take you as well?” Chang-wei replied.
I didn’t wait for an answer. Drawing my needle gun from my sash, I aimed and fired a needle into the side of the captian’s neck. Zhao looked confused at first, then he clawed aimlessly at the needle before crashing to the ground.
It had to be Zhao. He depended on Nagasaki for his livelihood and profited from being allowed to trade there. Sometime during his many visits to the island empire, his loyalties had shifted.
No one questioned my judgment. Instead we hurried on, stepping over the captain’s sleeping form.
“The patrols could be close,” Chang-wei said in a hushed voice.
He held a gando lantern with the metal shield around it adjusted to only allow a thin sliver of light. Enough to light our path but not direct the authorities to us. I prayed they were still searching near the market where we had rented rooms in one of the inns. That would keep them occupied at the opposite end of the settlement.
As we crept through the narrow lanes and alleyways, the dwellings grew considerably larger. Chang-wei came to a stop before a mansion with a red roof and dragon and phoenix ornaments. Ivy crawled over the surrounding walls.
“This place?” Makoto asked, incredulous.
I looked back at him. “You know it?”
“This tojin has a reputation. He captains a trading junk that can outsail any vessel on the sea. It’s believed the customs office turns a blind eye to some of his activities.”
“What do you mean?” Satomi asked, irritated.
“They say he’s a pirate.”
Makoto knew more about the inhabitants of the Chinese quarter than he let on. I wanted to ask him more about that, but this wasn’t the time or place. Unperturbed, Chang-wei pulled the bell string at the gate.
“Do you know him?” I asked Chang-wei as we waited.
“Once I did,” he replied, keeping his gaze forward. “You may know him better now.”
I didn’t have long to ponder that answer. The gate opened to reveal a fami
liar face with its sharp cheekbones and angular features. His hair was cut short, ending just above his shoulder, and he was dressed in a long Western-style waistcoat that fell to his knees. The air drained from my lungs.
“Chen Chang-wei.” Yang’s smile stretched tight. When the former imperial chemist turned to me, his look was noticeably warmer. “Mèimèi. Did you like the flowers?”
Chang-wei glanced briefly between us. He kept his tone neutral as he spoke. “Yang Hanzhu. How are you . . . Brother?”
There was a noticeable pause before the honorific. Perhaps they had been like brothers once when they were both serving in the Ministry under my father, but according to Yang, they had never gotten along.
“You don’t look well,” Yang remarked, looking Chang-wei over from head to toe. “It would be best to continue the conversation inside. If you’ve come to me for help, then it must be a matter of life and death.”
Chapter Nineteen
We were ushered through the front gate, and Yang closed the heavy door behind us.
The interior of the courtyard was built like a Chinese mansion one might find in the wealthy areas of Peking or Shanghai, but there were traces of Japanese influence in the rooftops and windows. I knew Yang Hanzhu came from wealth, but I didn’t realize how much. Despite the opulent surroundings, the grounds were eerily empty. No lights glowed from within the chambers. No servants came to greet us.
“You know our situation,” Chang-wei said as we followed Yang through the courtyard.
Yang looked him over, taking full measure of his former colleague. “I know your situation. I didn’t expect such a . . . following.”
“Can you help get us out of Nagasaki?” I asked, stepping in. “All of us,” I added as Yang looked thoughtfully at the other three.
“I have a feeling these are subjects the shogunate will not relinquish,” he remarked. “Especially considering the recent news.”
Lord Takeda had remained quiet up until that moment. “What news?”
“Reports have started coming in about the approach of a Western fleet. Měiguóren. The Americans.” The way Yang spoke the word had an ominous ring to it. “The captain has refused to dock at Nagasaki and is instead directing his fleet toward Edo.”