1636: Seas of Fortune (31 page)

Where the Cuckoo Flies

February 1633 to January 1634

Where the cuckoo flies

till it is lost to sight—out there

a lone island lies.

—Matsuo Basho (1688)
¹

Nagasaki, Island of Kyushu, Japan,

Kan’ei 10, first month, sixth day (February 14, 1633)

Four down, one to go. Yamaguchi Takuma felt sweat beading on his brow, but he didn’t dare wipe it off.

The
hissha
, the ward scribe, called out the next name: “Hiraku.” Hiraku was Takuma’s son, the youngest member of the household and therefore the last to be summoned. He had only recently turned seven, the age at which a Japanese child was considered a member of the community. Until that age, “children belong to the gods.”

Mizuki, Takuma’s wife, took Hiraku by the hand and led him in front of the
otona
, the ward headman, and his assistants. When she started to leave, he clutched her uncertainly. She gently took his hands in hers and whispered to him, “Remember what you must do.” Then she let go of his hands and backed away.

Hiraku stared down at the carved stone blocks which the
monban
, the bearers of the images, had placed on the floor. One showed the crucified Christ, the other, a praying Mary.

He started to cry.

The
otona
frowned. One of the assistants whispered to him. Takuma bit his lip, wondering whether saying something would make matters worse.

Mizuki made a deep bow to the council. “He is only a small boy, seeing the images of the ‘Evil Sect’ frightens him. Allow me to assist him.” The
otona
nodded.

She took Hiraku by the hand, and led him so that he walked over the Christian images, thus desecrating them, just as his mother, father, and grandfather had done already.

“There, it is done!” she cried.

The
otona
clapped his hands, and beckoned to Yamaguchi. The scribe pointed to a blank spot on the register, and Yamaguchi applied his name seal to it. The
otona
coughed, and all the members of the household bowed. Then the
otona
rose, somewhat creakily, to his feet. “This
efumi
is concluded. You have reaffirmed your status as good Buddhists, and good Japanese. I congratulate you. Remember to report any suspicious activity to one of my assistants.”

He turned to his
nichi gyoshi
, the ward messenger, who was seated near the door. “Go at once to the house of Matsumoto the matmaker. Tell him that we just finished with Yamaguchi-san, and we are on our way to Tanaki-san. Tell Matsumoto-san that we expect to visit him at the hour of the monkey. Then meet us at Tanaki’s house.”

The
nichi gyoshi
bowed, and departed on his errand. The
monban
packed up the
fumie
, the Christian images, in their cases, and began the procession to Tanaki’s. They in turn were followed by the scribe, the assistant headmen, and lastly, the
otona
.

After they were out of earshot, Takuma whispered to his wife. “Tomorrow is the last day of the efumi. The following night, we’ll perform the rite of atonement.”

Edo Castle, the residence of the Shogun, in Edo (Old Tokyo), capital of Japan,

Kan’ei 10, fifth month (August 1633)

Pieter van Santen, the chief Dutch factor in the Land of the Rising Sun, shook out the exotic garment. “And this, Great Lord, is what the up-timers call a ‘rain poncho.’ They wear it to keep dry when it rains.”

Tokagawa Iemitsu, the
Taikun
, the shogun, the ruler of Japan, looked at it doubtfully. “What is this material it is made of?”

“I am told that they call it ‘plastic.’ It is manufactured, not natural. Is it not marvelous? It folds up into a small package, even though it covers the wearer as well as a
haori
.” That was the three-quarter length kimono-shaped coat of the samurai. “It has the transparency of glass, but it is flexible like cloth. And it is far more waterproof than any cloth.”

“Hmm. Put it on.”

Van Santen complied. Iemitsu made a twirling motion with his hand, and, after a moment’s hesitation, van Santen pirouetted, slowly.

Iemitsu snapped his fingers, and a servant appeared. Iemitsu whispered to him, and he returned a moment later, carrying a pail. He stood behind the Dutchman, who was unaware of the servant’s exact position, since protocol required that (unless commanded to do otherwise) the visitor remain facing the shogun at all times.

Iemitsu made a second gesture.

Splash!
The servant had upended the bucket over the Dutchman. Iemitsu laughed with great vigor. A beat later, the rest of the court joined in.

Iemitsu held up his hand, and the laughter stopped, in mid-titter. “Let’s see how well this ‘rain poncho’ worked.”

The servant carefully lifted it off van Santen, then felt the material. He reported his findings to the chief of the attendants, who in turn confided them to a junior councillor. Finally, the senior councillor, on duty, Sakai Tadakatsu, made his report to the shogun.

“Dry.”

Van Santen bowed.

“What else do you have for me?”

“A barometer, it is a up-timer device for predicting the weather. A kind of artistic marvel; I believe it is called an ‘Etch-a-Sketch.’ A globe, showing the entire world as it existed, or I should say would have existed, in the time of the up-timers. And one of their firearms, Great Lord. On the instructions of your guards, it was locked in this chest.” He pointed to one held by a servant.

“You may open the chest, but do not touch the firearm without my permission.”

Van Santen unlocked the chest, and held it so the shogun could see its contents.

“Come closer.” Van Santen, head bowed, shuffled forward until he was close enough for the shogun to reach in.

The shogun held up a strange-looking firearm. “What is it?”

“In Grantville they call it a twelve-gauge pump-action shotgun. There are four hundred rounds in the small container which accompanies it. It is most often used for shooting birds, but it can be used in combat. Of course, it is not loaded.”

The shogun mimed shooting at a moving aerial target. Then he lowered the barrel.

“Who used it in combat? Samurai? Ashigaru?” Ashigaru were foot soldiers, usually commoners.

“Horse warriors, Great Lord. In the American
Sengoku
.”

Iemitsu, nodded, satisfied. Horse warriors, by definition, had to be samurai. The Sengoku was the most recent period of civil war in Japan, brought to a close in 1600 by the victory of Iemitsu’s grandfather Ieyasu in the Battle of Sekigahara.

Iemitsu examined the buckshot in the chest.

“May I humbly beg that the
Taikun
not test
this
present on my person?” said the envoy.

“No problem,” said Iemitsu. “We can always find a criminal. Or a peasant,” he added thoughtfully. “In the meantime, it can go into my firearms collection.

“Do you have any other presents for me? I am feeling a bit tired.” That was understood by all to mean that Iemitsu was bored and wanted to go hunting or hawking.

“Just some books. These are volumes of what the Americans call the
World Book Encyclopedia
. This one includes articles on Japan and Korea. Written in the Americans’ day, which, as we have told you, is four centuries in the future. And knowing of your interest in happenings in the Middle Kingdom, I also brought the volume with the essay on China. This third volume has an article on Asia, which covers the Kingdom of the Mughals, and the Kingdom of Ayutthaya, and many other places of interest. And the fourth one speaks about the rise of the Buddha. And I also have pages copied from other encyclopedias. And atlases.”

“I am sure it is all very interesting. Give it to Tadakatsu-san.” He clapped his hands, and everyone quickly prostrated themselves. A moment later, he was gone.

* * *

Tadakatsu directed van Santen to a small chamber near the audience hall. There, van Santen handed the four volumes to the chief councillor, who looked through them quickly.

Tadakatsu paged through the first volume, without saying a word, or even changing his expression.

This made van Santen uneasy. He pointed to the “J-K” volume. “The
World Book Encyclopedia
has a very interesting map of Japan. One which shows where gold, silver, copper and iron occur. Perhaps some of the localities are not yet known to you? There is also a map copied from the
Hammond Citation World Atlas
. And then I have a list for you of Japanese towns which, according to the
Columbia Encyclopedia
, are mining centers.”

He lowered his voice. “The Americans have only two originals of what they call the Great Encyclopedia. They don’t permit them to leave Grantville, but we have compiled the information which they provide on Japan. I have the compilation in manuscript form. It is in English, but I can translate it for you. It was sufficiently . . . sensitive . . . that I thought it best not to have it translated into Japanese, or even into Dutch.”

“What sort of information?”

“Information regarding certain, um, difficulties, which lie in the path of the shogunate. Difficulties that might be avoided if the shogunate knew about them in advance.

“And proof of both the perfidy of the Portuguese, and the loyalty and friendship of the Dutch.”

Kan’ei 10, ninth month (October 1633),

Shikoku, Japan

“So, now that there is no competitor to hear your great secret, please explain to my unworthy and lowly self: why are we slogging up a mountain instead of drinking sake at an inn, and flirting with the serving girls?” said Nakamura Takara.

His companion, Sumitomo Tomomochi, kept walking. “A friend of a friend . . . (breath) . . . of my esteemed father . . . (breath) . . . has a new diviner . . .” Abruptly, he decided that it was no use trying to talk and walk at the same time. Stopping, he explained. “This diviner says that there is a lode of copper somewhere around here.”

“Which father would that be?” This question was not as peculiar as it sounded. Tomomochi was the natural son of Soga Riemon, a coppersmith in Kyoto. Riemon had married the daughter of Sumitomo Masotomo, a former priest, who ran a bookshop-cum-pharmacy in the same city. To strengthen the alliance between the two families, Masotomo had adopted Tomomochi. Since Tomomochi and Takara were of samurai descent, they had true surnames.

“Riemon. Can we continue, please? I would like to get back down by nightfall.”

His hiking companion didn’t move. “And what do you mean, a ‘friend of a friend’?”

“You want us to be here all day? My father was called to the office of the Kyoto deputy.” That was the Tokugawa official who made sure that the emperor stayed out of politics. “To meet with a visiting superintendent of finance, out of Edo.” That made a bit more sense, since Soga Riemon had invented
nanban-buki
, the method of extracting silver and gold from blister copper. “And he had gotten his marching orders from some shogunate bigshot.”

“Really, who?”

“He was very careful not to say. Anyway, my father said, ‘So sorry, I am too old for climbing. Please speak to my son in Osaka after he gets back from Shikoku.’ And the superintendent said, ‘Funny you should mention Shikoku. The diviner I spoke of says that there is copper south of Niikama.’”

“Whoever that shogunate bigshot was, it’s a pity that he didn’t make the diviner slog along with us.”

“Save your breath for the climb, please.” Tomomochi resumed his struggle up the mountain trail.

“Oh, all right. Even if we don’t find copper, perhaps I’ll find some dragon bone.” Takara was, like his father, a physician. His father was one of Masotomo’s regular customers, and Takara had set up his own practice in Osaka. Naturally, he had been instructed to look up Tomomochi. That was how business was done in Japan.

* * *

Takara and Tomomochi had traveled to the island of Shikoku for the
Shikoku Hachiju-hakkasho
, a pilgrimage to eighty-eight temples on that island. At Mount Koya, they had put on the traditional garb: the white
hakui
coat, the purple
wagesa
scarf, and the conical
sugegasa
straw hat. And then each took a firm grip on his
kongotsue
, his walking stick, and headed for the first temple, Ryozenji.

When they planned the trip, they had expected to be able to complete the circuit in two months. However, when they reached Matsuyama, the halfway mark, there had been a sealed message waiting for Tomomochi. One whose contents he had refused to reveal to Takara, until now. At Niihama, they had deserted the pilgrimage route and headed deep into the mountains, guided by a local “mountain master.” Much to Takara’s amazement.

They were now on the south side of the Dozan ridge. The “mountain master” ahead of them halted abruptly. Then he resumed his progress, this time scuttling slowly forward in a peculiar half-crouch.

“What is it?” said Tomomochi.

“I saw . . . promising colors. In the small stones. Which may have fallen from someplace higher.”

“I wish they could have fallen from someplace lower,” said Takara.

They continued journeying. Tomomochi stopped from time to time to rub his hands. Even though it was summer, they were high in the mountains, above the timber line.

Then they stopped in amazement. Before them lay a massive buttress of stone, and in it, plain to see, was a vein of copper ore. The mountain-master prostrated himself before it, as if it were some
kami
of the mountain. Takara whooped. “You’ve hit the bullseye, my friend!”

“I will call this place
Kanki
,” replied Tomomochi. It meant “cheers of joy.”

* * *

“So, at least some of what is in the up-timers’ encyclopedias is true,” Tadakatsu told the shogun. “And since we do not allow the Dutch or Portuguese barbarians to roam freely, and we have not given them maps, their detailed descriptions of the geography of Japan must come from the future.”

“Could they not merely have very good diviners?”