The father chuckled. “Yes she is. And I understand she talked you into letting her get out of that ancient outfit in which she was dispatched.”
“It seemed the thing to do. Was it returned in satisfactory order?”
“My sister has inspected every inch of it with her museum specialist and returned the historical artifact to the cold nitrogen bin from which it was borrowed.”
“Good,” Kris said.
“Now, you will notice that I am not risking my neck on getas. Our court photographer already has taken his pictures for tonight’s news which will make Aki-san gnash his teeth. Would you like to settle into a nice pair of flat zori my wife chose to go with that magnificent furisode?
Kris glanced around. Apparently the photographer to the Imperial Family was very discreet; she’d seen no one, much less a camera. The reference to Aki, the present Prime Minister, Kris let pass. “Yes, please. My security chief has been very upset with me many times, but getas were a unique risk for the both of us.”
At that, a man trotted forward and put two zoris, handwoven with golden thread running through the straps, on the ground before Kris. He offered her a hand to lean on as she lost two inches of altitude. Kris could almost relax as they continued their walk among the pines and incense cypress.
“Ah yes, Jack. I hope you two are getting along well.”
“If you know Jack by name, you must also know that his rooms are in the north wing of Fujioka House, and mine are in the south. They do not even share the same stairs. What with the reports that I seduced the admirals into following me into battle, I will not risk any scandal.”
“Good. You are wise as well as courageous. That is a good combination.”
“It has kept me alive so far.”
“And with a little luck, we will keep you alive some more. Do you know that my daughter has been following your career more religiously than she has been following her studies? She wants to join the Navy when she finishes her education.”
The father eyed Kris . . . and, for once, Kris found herself at a loss for words.
Her love for Jack was changing her perspective on a lot of things. Things like maybe someday having a daughter. A daughter who might want to do some of the damn fool things she’d done.
“I see you pause before answering me,” the father beside her said. “Could it be you have second thoughts about what you have done?”
Kris didn’t need time to think about that. “Second thoughts, sir? No. I have done what I have done, and may your gods and mine forgive me, but I would do it all again if I had it to do over. But if I was a mother, and my daughter said she wanted to follow in my footsteps, I think I would be badly torn. We face a crisis, Your Imperial Majesty. It must be met with courage, and, no doubt, much suffering, blood, and loss for all of us. How can I fault anyone willing to meet it? But, to risk all the tomorrows I dream of sharing someday with a little daughter?”
Kris found herself shaking her head.
“You wear a furisode, but I think you are about ready to trade it in for a married woman’s kimono,” the Emperor said.
“If I can ever find time to properly court a man, I just might.”
“Ah, yes. The balancing of our duties to humanity with our duties to family. Or even to ourselves. Trust me, over time it does get easier. Look at me. While you must prance about like a clothes pony in ancient regalia we tremble might tear on a twig, my kimono is a gift from my wife from last Landing Day. Let us get you to the teahouse, so you can change into something both magnificent and wearable.”
“I don’t know if I once get out of this stuff I’ll ever get back into it properly.”
“Don’t worry. My household staff includes the old biddy who taught Ko-san everything she knows. If they can’t redress you, then I clearly need a new staff.”
He paused for a moment. “I don’t know what you know about the Way of the Tea.”
“Little,” Kris said.
I RESEARCHED IT THOROUGHLY, Nelly said.
SHUT UP.
“Princess Emiko and her mother will be joining us for the ceremony. Part of it is to remark upon certain scrolls of wise sayings that I will hang up. I have given much thought about just what I would like you . . . and my daughter . . . to reflect upon.”
Kris nodded. After meeting the Buddhist monk aboard Mutsu, she would have expected nothing less thoughtful from a ceremony.
“You will be asked about the things we speak of. I would prefer that you tell nothing of our time together.”
“I learned at my father’s dinner table that what is said there stays there. Will there be a table in the ceremony?” Kris asked, letting the imp get her tongue.
“No, there will not be, but the same principle applies.”
“It certainly will. Nelly, turn off your recording system.”
DO YOU REALLY MEAN IT, KRIS?
YES, NELLY.
“Recording system off,” Nelly said.
“You record everything?” the Emperor said.
“Since I was a teenager. This will be the first break.”
“I am honored.”
50
It was well after sunset before Kris left. And she left by the front gate. She was surprised by how many newsies had stuck it out, but it seemed there was still time to make the late-night news.
The sunset, as seen from the Fujimi-yagura, or the Mt. Fuji viewing keep, had been spectacular. If the snow-covered volcano wasn’t the actual sacred mountain, it was a perfect stand-in as far as Kris was concerned.
So Kris was feeling rather mellow as she made her way out the main gate and toward the waiting van. Her Marine detachment had formed up at a distance, far enough away that the cameras could get her alone but close enough to keep anyone from jamming a mike in her face. Maybe that was what caused her to lose her usual control over her tongue.
The shouted questions were the usual ones although at least one woman reporter was informed enough to want to know about the viewing of the scrolls. Kris let them holler for most of her walk, then paused, and in her command voice announced, “I’m sorry. I cannot talk to you fine people of the press. The courts require me to say nothing. Maybe you can get your stories from the Imperial Household?”
As she expected, someone gave her the straight line she was looking for.
“The Imperial Household never tells us anything.”
“Oh,” Kris said, putting on her best imitation of shocked innocence. “Are they under a court gag order, too?”
Newsies are not known for their humor, but that drew a chuckle from several, and even Kris’s Marines seemed to be smiling as she approached the van.
Kris felt the bullet hit before she heard the rifle’s crack.
51
Traditionally, a young woman presents herself naked to be dressed in the so many formal items that made up a full kimono. Kris had not. Ko-son had been very disapproving, but Kris hadn’t budged. All the formal layers went on atop Kris’s usual spider-silk body-stocking armor.
Now Kris’s armor stopped a five-millimeter round right over her heart. The added liquid metal did its part and hardened, spreading the impact over most of Kris’s torso. Still, the high power of that rifle round had to go somewhere.
Kris landed on her butt.
Immediately, she rolled, one hand holding on the armored wig Ko-son had not approved of, and the other hand going for her automatic. Ko-son had almost stormed out when Kris insisted that her weapon had to fit somewhere in all the folds of that ancient, traditional garb.
A second shot hit the cobblestones where Kris had been half a second ago. Chips flew, and one of them hit Kris’s cheek.
She rolled again, automatic out, but with nothing to aim at.