"You killed him… with your bare hands," she whispered.
"Are you all right?"
Na'tukt nodded uncertainly. "There was no time for him. But what about the other one?"
"He is dead," Carter said, going to the doorway and looking out into the corridor. "I'm going to take him away. I want you to clean up this mess. If more of them show up, I don't want them to know that these two were ever here."
She nodded. "But when they do not return to their base, their people will come looking for them. They will think that we killed them."
"No, they won't," Carter said. "Believe me." He came back into the room, kissed her on the forehead, then held her very close. When they parted he looked into her eyes. "Thank you, Na'tukt. For my life."
She nodded.
Carter dressed the big Russian, then picked up his body, careful not to get any blood on himself, and brought him back into the main room.
Mal'ama had returned with some of the elders. "It is true, then," one of the old men said. He looked at Carter. "If we kill him, our troubles will be over."
"No!" Mal'ama cried out. "He saved our lives."
"From these two," the old man said. "But others will come."
"That is then," she said. "This is now. And will you repay a kindness with a betrayal?"
The old man stamped his foot in irritation. The others were watching Carter.
"She is right, you know," one of them said.
The old man sighed deeply, and nodded his head. "Yes, I know. I hoped for a simpler solution. One we could accomplish without risk. But it is not to be." He looked up at Carter. "So, young man. You have come here with your weapons, with your suitcase, which we can only assume contains some terrible secrets, and now you want to go home. But you must understand that we cannot get you to your submarine. It has gone."
"What about the radio?"
The old man looked at the others. "It too is gone, as are the bodies of your friends. Such things would mean our deaths. You must understand…"
"I do," Carter said. "And I also thank you for your help. Now I need to get to Hokkaido."
The old man nodded. "That will be difficult but not impossible. What about these two boys?"
"They have a vehicle out front?"
"A half-track…" the old man started, but then understanding dawned on his face. "The sea," he said. "They will have a terrible accident on this treacherous coast. Their vehicle will have plunged into the sea. It was an accident."
"Yes," Carter said.
"I will send help for you," the old man said. "In the meantime we will make our fishing boats ready. We will go out as a fleet first thing in the morning… even before first light. In that way they will not become suspicious."
The Sovetskaya-Senyev fleet consisted of thirteen boats, all of them large, mostly open vessels with canoe sterns, one side equipped with rollers and winches for handling long nets. Each boat carried a crew of four men; one of them an elder who could steer, one of them very young and strong to let out and pull in the nets, and two of average strength and age to pull the fish out of the nets, one by one.
Getting out of the inlet was spectacular. At times the boats seemed to be standing on end in the huge breaking waves; at other times Carter was convinced huge waves would capsize them, sending them to the bottom and their deaths.
A few hundred yards out from shore, however, the waves were not so steep, though much larger, and the going was easier.
The wind came down out of the mountains now, which tended to push them away from shore. Soon they were alone on a storm-tossed sea, and the short, stubby masts were set up, and the lateen sailing rigs were battened down for the long run across the northern Sea of Japan.
Three times Soviet gunboats passed close enough so that they could see their lights, hear their engines, and smell their exhaust gases. The Soviets either never saw them in the huge waves, or they chose to ignore what they assumed was nothing more than a hard-working Soviet fishing fleet.
That evening Carter's things, including the computer chip carrying case, were loaded aboard a twelve-foot sailing dinghy.
Before he cast off he looked up at the Siberian fishermen. He wanted to tell them that what he had done would make things better for them. But he could not. Unless the entire world and all life on it were destroyed, no matter what advances were made in technology, no matter which countries turned to the U.S. and which turned to the Soviet Union, their lives would not change drastically. Life for them was keeping warm in the winter, cool in the summer, dry at sea, and fed year round. Nothing else was of any real importance.
"Thank you," Carter shouted over the wind in Russian.
"God go with you," the old man who was at the helm called down.
Epilogue
The farmlands and forests to the east of Fujiyama glowed red in the silent dawn. Overhead the sky was clear. Only at the horizon was there any haze, and because of it the sunrise was spectacular.
It was cold that morning as Carter stood smoking a cigarette on the veranda. He was dressed only in a kimono, nothing on his feet, no weapons. And it felt good. For the first time in what seemed like a very long time, he felt at peace. The computer chip had been sent to Washington four days ago, and already early reports were using words such as fabulous, stunning, magnificent. Hawk had sent his congratulations, and even the President, who had finally shown up in Tokyo, had sent his thanks through one of his staff.
The only dark cloud was Kazuka's resignation. She had told Carter last night that she was finished… not only with AXE, but with the business.
"I lost Owen some years ago," she had explained, "and I almost just lost you."
"It's part of the job."
"I know," she had said. "It is time for me to settle down, Nicholas. Have babies. Tend to a household. Shop. Make the tea ceremony."
"Anyone I know?" Carter had asked.
She had ignored the question, and later they had made love, slower and more gently than ever before.
He sensed her presence at the rice-paper door behind him.
"It is a beautiful dawn," he said.
"Yes, it is, Nicholas," she said softly.
"My things are packed," he said after a long pause.
"I saw."
"You won't invite me to the wedding?"
"I don't think so. You will probably be on assignment in any event."
"Hawk called again?"
"Yes. He wants you back in Washington. Something important has come up."
"I see."
"I thought about asking you to turn it down, to stay, but then I realized that would be unfair not only to you but to me as well."
Carter nodded. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, drawing the smoke way down into his lungs. His was an odd life, he knew. But he could not imagine any other.
He stubbed out his cigarette and turned to her. Tears streamed down Kazuka's cheeks. "It is Major Rishiri?"
She nodded. "I love you, Nicholas… but there will always be another Petrograd chip for you, won't there?"
Carter nodded.
She reached up and kissed him gently on the lips. "Good-bye, my love."