Sea of Fire

Chapter 10

The first minutes passed politely, with the officers sitting down at the table and the orderly serving water and tea. But Admiral Yamamoto made good on his promise and immediately returned to the question Ugaki had pressed on him.

“Captain, that was again a most impressive demonstration, most impressive. With such rocket weaponry at your disposal, I can see why this ship has only one small deck gun, no bigger than many we put on our destroyers.”

“Yes sir, but that deck gun can range out over 50 kilometers.”

“50,000 meters? How is that possible for such a small gun. It cannot be more than a 5-inch barrel, and our best secondary batteries on Yamato can only range 27,000 meters.”

“If you wish a demonstration of that deck gun’s range, I would be happy to arrange it.”

“50 kilometers would be well over any horizon,” said Ugaki. “How would you even see the target?”

“With our helicopters. They could send information back to our deck gun and I assure you, we would hit any target we fire at, even at that range. Beyond that, we have a weapon that can fire four times as far, a new type of naval gun that can send a fast projectile out 200 kilometers.”

It was clear that Ugaki would never believe that, as he shrugged somewhat disdainfully at the statement. “Now you begin to sound like a fool,” he said. “And I have no patience for fools, be advised.”

Yamamoto gave him a sidelong glance, knowing his mood, but still quietly demanding civility here. Ugaki had seen the look many times before, and he folded his arms, unhappy with this entire situation, but tolerating it as best he could.

“This is a most unusual ship,” said Yamamoto, “but you will never convince me it was made in the shipyards of Nagasaki. The equipment I have seen here is beyond our capabilities. You said as much yourself. If we could build such a gun, it would surely be on Yamato, a ship that received the very best weapons and armor we could give it. So then the question remains—where was this ship built? You have denied it came from the Russians, but I remain unconvinced. There is something more to all of this that you have not told us.”

“Sir, I have told you the truth all along. This ship was built in Japan, by Japanese engineers, and right there at Nagasaki as I stated. On the other hand, I have also told you that the equipment you saw below was beyond anything present day engineers in Japan could design. As Admiral Ugaki kindly points out, this is a contradiction, so now I will clear the matter up. I have told you where our ship was built, but I did not say when it was built. Therein lies the answer, though it will likely be as difficult for you to accept it as it was for us to grasp the reality of where we now find ourselves. This ship was not built in this era, not in the 1940s. The plant that designed Takami at Nagasaki will not even exist until well after the war, decades in the future.” There, he had said it, and now he waited for Yamamoto’s reaction.

“Decades? What are you saying?”

“To be completely blunt about it, Takami was laid down in the year 2018, and commissioned into the Japanese Maritime Self Defense Force in the year 2021.” He waited, saying nothing more.

Ugaki looked at Yamamoto, and when the latter simply laughed, Ugaki shook his head. “It seems you have already had your fill of that saké sitting there, and before you even offer it to your guests! More nonsense and evasion! So many words, yet nothing ever said. Such insubordination, and with the Admiral of the Combined Fleet sitting here before you!”

“Sir,” said Harada, “I know what I have said sounds like utter nonsense. We thought the very same thing just days ago when we transited the Sunda Strait. Takami was on a simple escort run from Singapore to Darwin. Then, all of a sudden, we found ourselves caught up in that terrible volcanic eruption. We sailed north, hoping to escape the ashfall, and that was when we came across General Imamura adrift at sea. It took us some time before we could believe he was the man he claimed to be—General Hitoshi Imamura, Commander of the Japanese 16th Army. You see, in our day, no such Army even exists, and we could see no reason why a Japanese Army officer would be where we found him. His uniform was archaic, even as you looked at our uniforms and insignia and knew something was amiss.”

“You persist in this?” Now Admiral Ugaki had a hand on the hilt of his sword yet again.

“Do not be so quick to draw that blade,” Harada pointed. “Hear me out. You can believe it, or laugh it away when I have finished, but at least have the courtesy to listen. No man or woman aboard this ship thought we would ever find ourselves in a situation like this. Yes, I said woman, just like Lieutenant Ryuko Otani there at sensor watch. Women have served in the Japanese Navy for years, and she is a fine officer. As for this ship, no nation on this earth could build it, or even begin to understand or manufacture any of the equipment you have seen us demonstrate here. I just killed men and planes out there, and at night, firing a weapon guided by radar alone and at a range exceeding 30,000 kilometers. That capability will not exist on this planet for decades, in spite of what you have told me about the Russian ship you believe is operating in the North.”

Now he lowered his voice, still working through his own thoughts in his mind, less certain, but no less determined to have his say. “Concerning that, there was another incident in our time, the year 2021, and just days before this happened to us in the Sunda Straits. A volcano in the Kuriles erupted violently, and at that time, a Russian battlecruiser was leading a small flotilla very near that location. Those ships vanished, and we believed they may have been sunk. Yet now, after what has happened to Takami, I wonder… yes…. Because the Captain of that ship was a man well known to many of us in the Navy. We often sortied in the Sea of Japan when the Russian Navy would joust with us out of Vladivostok. His name was Vladimir Karpov…”

Yamamoto sat there, astounded, listening out of politeness but unable to accept what this man was saying. And yet, this Captain was possessed with sincere urgency, with an almost desperate need to be believed. What Kami has taken this man’s soul, he thought? And the other one, the First Officer, he is thinking much more than he is speaking, yet between them there is a strained rope that tethers them together in this. They believe this story! As much as Ugaki was correct that this was insubordinate effrontery, here these men stand, and knowing Yamato has three 18-inch guns trained on this ship, yet this is what they tell me here. It is simply the most outrageous thing I have ever heard, but yet both these men believe it. I can see that on every line of their faces.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if to chase the weariness of the hour. On the other hand, look what this ship just did, he thought. I saw those planes fall with my own eyes. I saw officers below simply touching those panes of glass and lighting them up with maps and strange lines and symbols. Clearly this technology is equally outrageous in what it can accomplish. Is it real or theater as Ugaki suspects?

The death of those American planes was certainly reality. Could this preposterous story also be true? Could that be the real explanation for Nagumo’s shameful lapse in losing Hiryu. Our men call this ship up north Mizuchi, a monster from the spirit realm, and now here I sit, swallowed and in the belly of yet another Sea Dragon. These men now claim that they appeared here by accident. This ship was not some hidden project kept secret from the Navy. Assuming, for the briefest moment, that their claim is true, what is it they think to accomplish in coming to me this way? And now they have made yet another astounding statement, that this Vladimir Karpov is another Kami from some distant world, and not a man of our time.

“Vladimir Karpov,” he said. “You are telling me that this man is not….”

“He is not a man of this era sir. Yes. If this is the man I think it is, then he has come from our time, the 21st Century, and so has his ship. He was commander of the Russian battlecruiser Kirov in 2021, a guided missile cruiser, and perhaps the most powerful in the world. It has missiles, just like those you have seen us use against aircraft, and even more powerful rockets used to attack other ships. I am willing to bet that aside from that ship, there have been no other confirmed usage of these rockets anywhere else.”

Yes, thought Yamamoto, that would explain quite a few things. But who could swallow such broth and still pretend he is a sane man sitting at his table for lunch? In spite of that, how do I explain the presence of this ship here now, these weapons and radars? I am left with the distinct feeling that we will learn that these weapons are not really being manufactured by the Russians, just as this man says. If they had them, why didn’t they use them to defend Moscow? Why would they be on this single ship, and nowhere else… Yes… nowhere else. There has not been a single report of these rockets being used anywhere else, only with this mysterious Russian ship from the Atlantic…. Until this moment… Until a ship crewed by these officers and men, all Japanese, sail so boldly into my compass rose with this ridiculous story, and yet with power and a military capability that is simply astounding.

Ugaki wants to draw his sword and take this man’s head. Perhaps he should, but what good would that do? Suppose instead I join this Kabuki theater, and play my part. They are tapping out the rhythm, and so now, I will join the dance.

“Very well,” he said slowly. “Admiral Ugaki, if you squeeze the hilt of that sword any further you will shatter it. Kindly rest at ease. These men have certainly told us things no sane man could ever believe, though I do not think they mean any disrespect in so doing. After all these hours with them, I still do not know who they are, or where they have come from, but one thing I do know is this—they have power at their disposal that exceeds anything we have ever seen. And if they are loyal to our nation, then that power can make our fleet invulnerable to enemy air attack. Isn’t that what you claim?”

“For a time,” said Harada. “Like all other things in life, the power we possess is not unlimited. Our defensive capabilities can certainly shield any fleet we sail with, and keep it from harm, even if the enemy knows exactly where we are. Takami can detect and stop any air attack… until our missiles run out.”

“Run out? Then you cannot obtain any more from the designers of this ship?”

“No sir, none of the men and women who designed and built Takami have even been born yet, and our missiles cannot be reproduced, reverse engineered, or manufactured anywhere on the earth at this time. Once they are gone, we will have our radars as a valuable asset for fleet intelligence, but the missile shield will be expended. This is yet one more reason that argues to the truth of what I have told you. The designers are 80 years away, and quite frankly, since we do not even know how we come to find ourselves here, I must also admit that we have no idea how we might return to our own time. At the moment, we are marooned here, and needing fuel, we reasoned that we would have to make our presence known to the most reasonable man in the fleet. This is why we came to you, sir. You alone will know how this ship might best serve our nation now.”

“I see…” Yamamoto just looked at Harada, and at his First Officer. “You might have told me this ship was a highly secret project, and created by a small splinter group nested within the military. You might have said the ship was built for some other purpose, perhaps as a seaplane tender, and then secretly modified to receive and use these new weapons. That I would be unaware of such a development would be improbable, but still within the realm of possibility. But you did not tell me that at all. Instead you simply hand me the impossible, an explanation that no man could ever believe, and one that prompts an otherwise proper and courteous officer like Admiral Ugaki to call you a fool, because he clearly thinks that is what you make us both out to be. Well, I am not a fool, and I do not think you are one either. Who would do such a thing, build such a ship, crew it with uniformed men, and come to me with such a story? Why would they do this?”

“Because it is the truth,” said Harada flatly. “Yes, we could have lied to you tonight, and perhaps you would have believed that lie, at least for a while, until you had tested that story to the extreme and found it to be a falsehood.”

“So instead you concoct an utter fantasy?”

“No sir, instead I simply related the fact of the matter. What I have told you is as real and true as the deck of this ship, built with materials, I might add, that do not even exist today. I could show you our computers, machines that process and analyze the signals received from our radars. We use them in that capacity, and for many other tasks, and they have not even been invented. Yet, they are here. I can place your hand on one, show you how it operates, and you will be unable to dismiss it as a fantasy, I assure you, any more than you can dismiss what we showed you this night. Reality bites, Admiral. It leaves its teeth marks in you, no matter whether you believe in it, or not. The men who died on those planes got the worst of it tonight, and that was a difficult thing for me to do—a difficult thing for me to order my men to do.”

“To strike down our enemies is every man’s duty and honor,” said Ugaki.

“Well sir, here is another thing you may find difficult to believe. In our day, the Americans were not our enemies, but our stalwart allies. In fact, the radars and missile systems used on this ship were first developed by the United States in the late 20th Century, and that technology was then shared with the Japanese Navy. So it was more than ironic that I just used American designed missiles from a future neither of you could ever see or comprehend, to kill American made bombers in a past that I still struggle to believe. We all do. Each day we awake and cannot believe what is before our eyes. Each night we sleep and think to dream this all away, but when we open our eyes, there sits the battleship Yamato, a ship that cannot exist, at least as far as we are concerned. It sailed these waters for the last time on April 7, 1945.”

“What are you saying?” Ugaki stood up, his eyes flashing with anger.

“I am saying Yamato was sunk by the American naval air force on that date. It was struck by no less than nineteen torpedoes, off the coast of Okinawa as our nation fought a last terrible battle for our survival before the end came, and with a terror that neither of you can imagine. In telling you this you will have the answer to the riddle you just posed, Admiral Yamamoto. Why tell a man the impossible when he might have swallowed the improbable? Because to tell you the truth, and to have you accept it as fact, then we have yet one more weapon at our disposal here—information. The war you are fighting now is our history. It is all written up in books sitting down in the ship’s library. You can go there with me if you wish and read them. Perhaps even see photographs of yourselves that have yet to be taken. Would that convince you? Would such a shock finally force you to accept what I have told you is the truth? And it may also shock you even more now to know that I can tell you the day and hour that each of you are fated to die.”

Chapter 11

The things they were hearing now sat scornfully upon the mountain of outrage these men have piled before us, thought Admiral Ugaki. How dare they say such things, speak of the death of the flagship of the fleet, speak of our own demise like this? If Yamamoto were not here, I would surely take this man’s head. I would strike a man five times in the face with my fist for simply failing to salute properly, yet look at the latitude Yamamoto extends these men! To kill them here and now would, of course, be unpardonable, so I must defer to the Fleet Commander’s wishes and hide behind a thin veil of manners. Yet I will be quite the ugly bride, and both these men will certainly know it. Does Yamamoto believe any of this nonsense? Why does he even treat with these men any further? We should simply order them to go slit their bellies and then commandeer this vessel, begin an investigation as to how, when, and where it was really designed and built, and find out who is behind it. Doesn’t the Admiral see that?

“Now you begin to try even my patience,” said Yamamoto, much to Ugaki’s relief. “It is never polite to speak of another man’s death, that is unless you are prepared to take his life.”

Harada bowed deeply. “I mean no disrespect, but it was necessary to convey to you the degree to which the knowledge we possess can be useful. Had I come to you with the story you suggested a moment ago, saying this ship was a secret project within our own government, then you could never truly believe any of what I must now tell you. I had grave doubts about revealing what I will say next, and again, I beg your forbearance. Try to hear what I say in light of the great undertaking you personally set in motion when you insisted that Japan should attack the Americans at Pearl Harbor. I know you had your own reservations concerning this war. I know that you believed our fighting spirit—seishin—would push the blood in our veins as we strove for a victory that might be beyond our grasp. Many others had such reservations, men like Admiral Hara, who came to Admiral Ugaki’s cabin aboard Nagato after the senior officers of the fleet were addressed at Hiroshima Bay. I was not there to hear that speech, because I was not yet born to this world.”

“How can you know this?” said the stern faced Ugaki. “That was a private meeting, which now leads me to accept my suspicion that you are all operatives of the Kempeitai!”

“No sir, as artful and intrusive as they may be, not one man among them would know anything about what I will now reveal here. Hara expressed his doubts about waging total war. He asked if we might not simply strike south to seize the resources of Indonesia, while avoiding action in the Philippines against the Americans, but you told him it was too late to change the plans, that every diplomatic option had run its course, that we now had no choice except this war with the United States. A week after that conversation you began writing Senso Roku, the Seaweed of War, your personal diary.”

“What? Then you are a spy, as I have long suspected. How else could you know this?” He looked at Yamamoto now, his eyes wide. “You see? The Kempeitai are everywhere, and this fantastic story spun out here is simply a distraction. Now they begin to reveal who they truly are.”

“Sir, with all respect, we are not members of the Kempeitai. I also know that you both had entertained the same reservations expressed by Hara, and wonder whether this war will turn out to be a victory cup or a bitter dose for the future empire.” In saying that last bit, the Captain was making a direct quote from Ugaki’s own diary, and he cast a wary glance at him as he did so.

“I know this because I have read your war diary, Admiral Ugaki, and not because we are agents spying on your personal affairs. No. Your diary was published and widely circulated after the war. It is history. A copy of everything you will one day come to write in it now resides in our ship’s library. I will not speak further of this, firstly out of respect for your privacy, and secondly because we have seen that things are different here now. That volcano, for example, was never supposed to erupt. There never was a Russian ship dueling with our navy in the north. Siberia never invaded Kamchatka, largely because we never had troops there, and they already owned all that territory. Hiryu was not sunk after Pearl Harbor as you say here, nor was Mutsu and the cruiser Chikuma damaged as you spoke of earlier. So from what we can see, the history is different, and it may not re-write itself as we know it. Therefore, your account of it may differ considerably if you continue to set your thoughts down in that diary, particularly if you allow us to make yet one more proposal.”

“Another proposal?” Yamamoto forced a smile, deeply disturbed now by what this man was saying. How could he have known about something as private as Ugaki’s personal diary. How could he have the effrontery to ever mention it openly like this if he did have knowledge of it. And now this claim that it was all published history neatly dovetails into their other impossible story, the grand theater in which they beckon me to take a part.

“What proposal?” he said, wanting to hear these men out before he finally decided their fate.

Ugaki was barely managing to contain his rage, but he forced himself to sit down again, and reached for the saké himself, in spite of Yamamoto’s disapproving glance. It was the one chink in the otherwise unassailable fortress Ugaki stood watch on, his aspect always stern and expressionless, never revealing his emotion or inner thoughts. That he had shown such anger and frustration here was evidence that he was most upset with these events, and Yamamoto knew there would certainly be repercussions.

“Sir, we know of your own views concerning this war, and our prospects for victory. America has been struck a heavy blow, and they will rise now with great rage to prosecute this war. You yourself know this, and even though our present navy is now second to no other fleet in this world, that will not always be the case. The industrial might of the United States, and the vast resources they have at their disposal, will soon make any real victory in this war impossible for Japan. If we do fight on, it will be to our utter destruction and shame. This is what we now hope to avoid, for like Admiral Ugaki’s diary, we know the entire history of this war, every battle, every decision and its outcome, every mistake and failure, every brilliant thrust. It is all history, and a fate that we sincerely hope we can avoid now. This is why, after finding ourselves here, we come to you so boldly, speaking like drunken fools, yet with the hope that you will still hear us and realize the potential we have before us. With this ship, you can re-write that history in a way that might save our nation.”

“You have intimated twice now that the outcome of this war leads to our destruction,” said Yamamoto. “It is as if it is all finished and resolved. Humoring you for the moment, tell us what you claim to know.”

“Everything sir, at least as it once happened. We know that you hold to the notion of kensho, the daring and artful blow that can knock down your enemy with one strike. It was this thinking that led you to believe the attack on Pearl Harbor would smash the American Fleet before it could intervene in any effective way to oppose the Strike South plan. In this you were correct, and you will now please forgive me if I claim to be putting thoughts into your head, but we came to understand that your desire for this one great and final blow will now lead you to plan an operation, in just a few months, that will seek a decisive battle with what remains of the American fleet. In that battle, Japan will suffer a catastrophic defeat.”

“I see…” said Yamamoto. “And just where will I fight this battle?”

“Sir, in the history we know, it was fought over Midway, Operation MI. You will send the Kido Butai east again, hoping to find and destroy the American carriers, but in that battle we lose the cream of our fleet carriers, Hiryu, Soryu, Kaga and Akagi. Yet you tell me Hiryu is already sunk, so as I have said, the history we know is already different.”

Yamamoto inclined his head, seeing Ugaki take yet another sip of saké, but saying nothing about it. “And after this battle?”

Harada now looked to his First Officer, who had prepared for this possible meeting by reviewing the history. “A long defensive grind,” said Fukada. “Our ability to conduct offensive operations is severely limited. The Americans, however, quickly replace any losses. In fact, at this moment they have twelve more fleet carriers building in their shipyards, and they will just be the leading edge of the storm that will soon come for us. They will deploy twenty-six in what will be called their new Essex class fleet carrier series, nine more in their smaller Independence class light carriers series, and these will all be added to the ships they presently have. Beyond this, they will build more battleships, cruisers, and destroyers and submarines in droves. They will use this force to put thousands of naval aircraft into the skies over this ocean, and they will eventually destroy the Japanese navy as an effective fighting force. We will see them take back one island outpost after another, bypassing those they do not deem suitable for their real war winning strategy.”

“And what is that?”

“Strategic bombing, sir. The Americans will develop a new long range bomber, the B-29. Once they take back the Marianas, they will develop a cowardly strategy of unrestricted bombing of Japanese cities—fire bombing. Tokyo will be literally burned to the ground, along with many other cities, and then late in the war, they will develop a terrible new weapon that will enable them to incinerate an entire city with only one single bomber. That may sound as unbelievable as everything else we have said, but I can show you documents from our library concerning this, photographs of the actual bombing taken by American planes, and images of what happened on the ground when this weapon was used against us.”

“In effect,” said Harada, “our nation was devastated, humbled, and forced to surrender to avoid the certainty of complete destruction. After that, Japan itself was occupied by the United States military, presided over by a military governor—one General Douglas MacArthur.”

“A new constitution was imposed on us,” said Fukada. “We were forbidden to design or deploy military forces possessing offensive weapons, which is one reason why this ship, Takami, has fleet defense as its primary role.”

“Eventually the Americans become our friends and allies,” said Harada, “opposing other enemies that arise in our time.”

“What enemies?” asked Yamamoto.

“China, and its ally Russia.”

“China?”

“Yes sir, the war there is already a quagmire for the Japanese army, where most of our ground forces are deployed. And it was very bitter, with atrocities that the Chinese will never quite really forget or forgive. In our day, China’s military is very formidable, and they are the new Rising Sun in the Pacific, with a navy that is much bigger than Japan’s. This ship was built to try and address that balance, and as war seemed imminent, we were on heightened alert. Yet now we find ourselves in the midst of a war we could never have imagined ourselves fighting. Now we find ourselves at war with history itself. If my supposition is correct, and the Russian ship plaguing you in the north appeared here as our ship did, then someone else is at war with the history here as well—Vladimir Karpov, a man from our time, and not of this world. He has already put Hiryu at the bottom of the sea, and if not stopped, what else might he change?”

Yamamoto nodded his head. “What then do you propose?”

Harada hesitated briefly, looking over at Fukada, then spoke. “Make peace, sir. End the war now while Japan is at the apex of its imperial expansion. Find a way to come to terms with the United States.”

“Then you came here seeking this meeting, with this ship and its wonder weapons, in the hope of persuading me to negotiate terms with the United States?”

“Yes sir, you are the only one with the prestige and authority who might do so, or so we believed, knowing the history. In a letter to Ryoichi Sasakawa, the financier and business man with whom you are acquainted, you yourself wrote that: ‘To make victory certain, we would have to march into Washington and dictate the terms of peace in the White House.’ Well sir, I do not think we can ever march to Washington, but we might be invited there by the Americans, and, if we do not attempt to dictate terms, but generously negotiate in good faith, we might have peace instead of the destruction of our homeland.”

“And do you think the Americans will seriously consider such a proposal?”

“Perhaps not, but if such a course were pursued as fervently as we now plan our war, there might be at least the hope of holding on to the victories we have already won, and yet obtaining peace instead of destruction.”

“Not likely,” said Ugaki now, finishing his third small toasting glass of saké. “Realizing this is all nothing more than a fool’s discourse, I will nonetheless join in, the saké tempering my anger, which is fortunate for the two of you at the moment. I do not believe the Americans will ever permit us to retain the territories we have already occupied, nor will the British. They will demand the return of Hong Kong and Malaya, and also demand that we withdraw our troops from Burma, Indonesia, and every other place we have taken in this brilliant offensive. As for the Americans, this General MacArthur you spoke of as our future military governor would never permit us to retain the Philippines, and they will want back Guam, Wake Island, and all the rest. You claim to have read my mind, Captain. Yet now I say the same thing to you that I said to Hara, it is too late. The water is already under the bridge, as the Americans might say. We could never relinquish these conquered territories without lasting shame, and so now if we must fight the Americans to retain our honor, so be it.”

“MacArthur will not be a problem,” said Fukada darkly. “We can see to that.”

“What are you saying?” asked Yamamoto.

“The history we know records that he will attempt to escape from the Philippines. He will come here, to this very island of Mindanao, and in a matter of a few days time. The Americans will send B-17 bombers to the one airfield they still retain here, Del Monte on the north coast. If you act quickly, occupy that field and interdict the sea lanes leading to it, MacArthur can be eliminated before he ever gets a chance to become our lord and master. And with Takami at our disposal, we can make certain he is either killed or made our prisoner.”

Now even Harada looked at his First Officer with surprise evident on his face. “Lieutenant Commander,” he said quietly. “We have not discussed this.”

“No sir,” said Fukada, “we have not. I only discovered it in my research a few hours ago after we engaged those B-17s. But now, knowing what I have just said, we cannot allow this opportunity to escape us. Can we? If we do so, then we would be the fools these Admirals already take us to be. Let us show them otherwise.”

Chapter 12

“It seems this man has no qualms about pursuing our war aims,” said Yamamoto to his Chief of Staff. “The Captain talks of peace, but his subordinate wants to eliminate our foes before they can rise to oppose us. How to solve this riddle? What should I do here, with these men and their ship?”

“Arrest them both,” said Ugaki. “Seize this ship with Naval Marines while we have them under Yamato’s guns, and conduct a thorough investigation. I assure you, we will get to the bottom of all this after that.”

“That would be a most unwise course,” said Harada.

“Agreed,” Fukada echoed, once again in harmony with his senior officer, at least on this point. “As we have demonstrated, this ship is valuable. I would venture to say that with Takami added to your existing fleet, we can seek and fight that decisive battle with our enemies that will assure a final victory. My Captain believes in the hope of a negotiated peace, but I must agree with Admiral Ugaki. It is already too late to expect our enemies will agree to a negotiated settlement favoring Japan. But after one more great victory, we might dictate terms, and not by marching to Washington. If we eliminate the remaining American naval power, then we can force them out of their principal base in Hawaii; force them to retreat all the way to their west coast. After that, we can see that no shipyard along that coast ever builds a single warship. Rest assured.”

“Lieutenant Commander—”

“You said we could speak our minds, Captain. This is mine. This is what I believe we must now do. We can eliminate MacArthur, destroy the American fleet, interdict their west coast ports, and force them to terms. We could even destroy the Panama Canal, and force them to sail all the way around Drake’s Passage at the southern end of South America if they want to send ships here from the Atlantic.”

Ugaki smiled. “I begin to like this man,” he said as he took another sip of saké. “Perhaps I will not kill him after all.”

“For that I would be most grateful,” said Fukada. “As for this Russian ship up north, you claim it is using missile technology. Takami has recorded data on all the weapons the Russians might be using. We can confirm our suspicion about this ship once and for all. Let us join any force you now contemplate sending north, and even the odds.”

“Lieutenant!” Now Harada allowed himself a flash of anger, and he deliberately left off the rest of Fukada’s title with that exclamation. “Our agreement here was to see if we could persuade these men to seek peace terms to end this war, not to begin planning out campaigns so we could continue it.”

“I understand that was your intention sir, and I agreed to come along as it was necessary for me to do so in order to present my own thoughts on the matter. As I have said, I disagree with the idea that we can now seek terms with the United States. I said as much earlier when the issue first came up. Yet I do agree that we can force the Americans to negotiate, and we can then dictate terms to our liking.”

“Interesting,” said Ugaki. “Now the two of them disagree. I must say, this is a masterful performance if these two came here to deceive us. But even if they have brought us this impossible story, they have also brought us this ship. They are all wearing uniforms. They fly our naval ensign. They claim to be officers in the service of our nation. If that is so, then they must first concede something here and now, and bow to our wishes in this matter. We will decide what happens here, so their opinion, and their disagreement, means nothing.”

“Just a moment,” said Harada. “Do not be so quick to relieve me of command here. I am Captain of this ship, and nothing will happen with it that I do not endorse.”

“More effrontery,” said Ugaki. “Well, Captain, even if your rank insignia is somewhat strange to me, you should well know that Admirals give orders in this war. Captains merely carry them out. We have extended you wide latitude here, much more than I would have ever permitted. Admiral Yamamoto has been more than gracious in sitting here through all this nonsense. Your story was as good as the saké you serve up, and it goes to my head the same way. What do you say, Admiral? What should be done with these men and their ship?”

Yamamoto looked at his Chief of Staff, a man he had not yet warmed to, and one he never requested in this post. Ugaki was an old school officer, with the mentality of a samurai. He looked fondly over his shoulder to the days of past glory, and in some ways he believed that an honorable death in this war was now his only option, and was willing to take the nation with him to the same oblivion he sometimes sought out with too much saké.

Yet Yamamoto had spent time in the United States. He was well aware of its industrial capacity, which is why he openly stated that while he thought he might achieve swift victories at the outset, he had no confidence that the final outcome of the war would favor Japan. So very much had been said here by these men that was most troubling.

That business concerning Ugaki’s diary was very interesting, he thought. I wonder…. He looked the men over, seeing them both looking to him now as the final arbiter of this little disagreement. In fact, they came to him for that very reason, both in league at the outset, now one an angel, the other a devil, perched on his shoulders and each one whispering advice. What to do here with this most unusual situation? He decided.

“Captain Harada,” he said quietly. “Thank you for your demonstration, and this dinner. I would like it if you would now show me to this library you say you have aboard your ship. I would like to see some of the material you say you have there.”

Harada had not expected that, and certainly Admiral Ugaki did not think that Yamamoto would give the story these men spun out even that much credence. Then again, perhaps he was now simply asking them to make good on their boastful pronouncements, so he said nothing in protest.

“I would be happy to escort you to the ship’s library sir,” said Harada.

“Good. Admiral Ugaki. Would you be so kind as to wait here with the Lieutenant Commander? If this kabuki theater has a script, I will now read it. If not, I will return shortly and give you all my decision.”

When the Captain left with Yamamoto, Fukada decided to sit and drink with Admiral Ugaki. “I hope you will forgive what you now say were wasteful words shared here with you tonight,” he said. “Perhaps I will never convince you otherwise, but we mean no disrespect, and we seek the best interests of our nation. Unfortunately, I believe the Captain and I will have different views, as you have seen, on how to best pursue those interests.

“You have a samurai’s soul,” said Ugaki, feeling his liquor just a bit more now. “Well, you are sitting in front of one now. My family has a long history, and I have striven to live up to it. The lower ranks call me the man with the golden mask, because I am firm and unyielding, and my face is set and determined. Yet when your Captain spoke of my diary, I did not know what to think. I did name it as he said, Senso Roku, the Seaweed of War, and if you are truly a naval officer, and not Kempeitai, then you know well the anthem we often sing about corpses in the water.”

Fukada nodded, then spoke quietly.

“Exactly!” said Ugaki, raising his saké glass to Fukada’s with a clink. “My… A few moments ago I was contemplating cutting off your head. Now here I sit commiserating with you and sharing saké!”

“I am glad for that,” said Fukada. “for I wear the same mask as you do, Admiral. You have heard my opinion as to what I believe we should do. Even if you do not believe what we have told you, you must certainly believe what we have shown you. Actions speak louder than words. You once asked me to write my death poem when I told you I was prepared to take my life to further the aims we now pursue. Here it is…

“Ah,” said Ugaki. “I like that. ‘Let us meet again at Yasukuni, blooming on the same treetop!’” Now Ugaki was quoting another famous Japanese song that was played near the shrine of Yasukuni during the Grand Festival, which commemorated the fallen soldiers that gave their lives in defense of the nation, and dated to the reign of the Emperor Meiji. The souls of all the fallen were said to be enshrined there, like cherry blossoms on the wind.

“I know the place,” said Fukada. “While it also enshrines the hope of peace, I am a realist. I know that it will take many more cherry blossoms falling on the wind to realize our aims in this war. Our Captain was bold enough to say that you would be one of them, and I must now tell you that yours was a most honorable death. Yes, it would be my honor to fall with you, and bloom again with you on the same tree.”

Ugaki had once been called the last samurai for the way he chose to end his life, personally flying the final kamikaze mission of the war after the Emperor ordered Japan to surrender. Fukada knew this, and he could also see that the saké Ugaki was known to have often enjoyed had tempered the sharp edge of his sword. He was quietly using this knowledge to curry favor here with this influential man, hoping he could convince him that they were of the same ilk and mind, two cherry blossoms on the same wind, and destined to bloom again on the same tree.

“Do you honestly still hold to that silly tale you spun out here?”

“What does it matter?” said Fukada. “Takami is real, that much I know without question.” He tapped his foot on the hard deck beneath them. “The missiles under our forward deck are real, and you have seen what we can do with them. You may find our behavior here unpardonable, but I beg you, before you take our heads, let us use them for a while so we can fight for Japan! With this ship, we can do exactly what I claimed a moment ago. We can certainly find the American carriers with our advanced radars, and then our planes can strike and destroy them, and without fear of reprisal. Takami can destroy any American counterstrike aimed at our fleet. Victory will be assured. Then, once we have sunk the last of their fleet carriers, we will reign supreme in the Pacific, just as I described.”

“They may be very cagey,” said Ugaki.

“Yes, but if we strike at a place that is vital to them, they will have to respond. This, I believe, is in Admiral Yamamoto’s mind. We also have the element of surprise, because they will not expect that we have such technology.”

“But they saw those rockets take down two of their bombers.”

“That was regrettable,” said Fukada. “It was why I spoke up and advised the Captain to destroy the remaining bombers. It was also unwise for us to boldly shoot down that target drone right here over the bay, but at that time we had no other option. We had to shock you with our capabilities to at least gain this audience.”

“But with such a strange story? Come now, how was this ship really built? Who was behind it?”

“Mitsubishi industries,” said Fukada with a wink. He was telling the truth, but making it seem that the company of this day was responsible.

“Then what was this business about MacArthur escaping from the Philippines? Don’t tell me you are reading tea leaves and foretelling the future. I did not ask to visit your library, because I am quite satisfied to live in this world as it is.”

“As am I,” said Fukada, with a strange inner feeling. He was not a married man, and had dedicated most of his young adult life to the service, coming up through the ranks to his present post, and hoping for a captaincy soon, his own ship. Now, however, he was dreaming of something more.

“Mark my words,” he said with a hush, as if confiding secret present day intelligence to Ugaki, and not now making fanciful boasts. “MacArthur will attempt to escape from Homma’s trap in the Philippines. He has plans to do exactly what I have said, and that was another reason I wanted to shoot down those remaining three contacts. They were most likely B-17s, yet I spoke with our Lieutenant Hideo Honjo, who conducted that engagement in the command center we showed you. He tells me those last three contacts diverted their course before we fired on the others, so they already had some pre-arranged plan. Our radar’s tracked them bearing north along the coast of Mindanao, before turning west again. They can have no other destination in mind but Del Monte airfield. I urge you to take it, and then let us see if this MacArthur will enjoy the accommodations we provide for him in an interrogation room before he presumes to become the Military Governor of Japan.”

He smiled, and got the same reaction from Ugaki, his golden mask melted away by the free flowing saké. It was the only time Ugaki ever allowed himself to drop his carefully guarded persona, the austere aspect he projected now softening considerably.

“What was all that nonsense about losing our own fleet carriers?”

“That was what the Captain fears if we are not careful. Of course, you and I know that may not happen at all, particularly not with Takami sailing with the Kido Butai! But tell me, Admiral, what was it that happened up north with Mutsu and Chikuma?”

“Both ships struck by naval rockets,” said Ugaki. “Just as Admiral Yamamoto said. Mutsu was old, and ready for the scrap yards. In fact, we have been entertaining plans to convert that ship to a hybrid battlecarrier. There is no point in trying to salvage it as a battleship. If any guns remain functional, we should move them to the forward turrets, and then sweep away all the damaged superstructure and throw up an armored flight deck.”

“And Hiryu was also sunk the same way, by naval rockets?”

“We had some idea where the enemy was,” said Ugaki, his loose lips freely disclosing this otherwise classified information now. “Nagumo was preparing to launch, and when Hiryu was struck, the resulting secondary explosions and fire simply gutted the ship.”

“Takami can prevent that from happening again,” said Fukada. “Our missiles are good enough to even stop other naval rockets.”

“Oh? Our gunners certainly could not stop them. Nagumo thought they were piloted. They bore in on the targets unfailingly, but were simply too fast for our flak guns.”

“We can stop them,” said Fukada. “That is unless the Captain loses his nerve with all this talk of peace negotiations.” There, he stuck his pin in this voodoo doll, knowing that Harada could be the one major obstacle to what he was proposing to Ugaki now. “Tell me, what did this man Karpov demand before the outbreak of the war?”

“Oh, nothing much,” said Ugaki with just an edge of sarcasm. “All he wanted was Urajio back, and all of our Siberian provinces with it, including Karafuto.”

“Karafuto? You mean Sakhalin Island?”

“Yes, what else?”

“And what was that first place you mentioned?”

“Urajio, the old Russian port at Vladivostok. Can you imagine the impudence of that man? We have held that territory since 1908!”

Fukada resisted the urge to say anything more here, but he was truly surprised to hear this, a confirmation of his own hunch on the matter. Clearly the history was already skewed, but he could not imagine how that could have happened, unless it was all the doings of that Russian ship. Yes, that had to be the answer. He had attributed the other oddities they had uncovered in the radio news broadcasts to the presence of Karpov here, things that may have been changed by his deliberate intervention. Yet 1908 was a long time ago, and what was Ugaki saying to him now? He probed a bit further.

“So they want Urajio back?”

“That and all of Amur province with it, and all the other territories we took from them long ago. Well let me say that it will take more than this back stabbing attack on Kazantochi. He has done one thing with his brash declaration of war. He’s finally got our attention. Thus far, the setback on Kazantochi is not generally known outside top military circles, but now the Army has been ordered to plan an operation in the north. Tojo has even sent our Tiger of Malaya up there to coordinate everything.”

“Tiger? Ah, you mean General Yamashita?”

“Who else? He will get three or four divisions together from the Kwantung Army and put the Siberian incident to rest. Of that I have no doubt, but this Russian ship, Siberian ship, who knows what it may be. That is our concern. Can this ship of yours really shoot down those naval rockets, or was that another wild story?”

“No sir, it was the truth. We can track them as they fire, and then shoot them down. That is exactly what Takami was designed for—fleet defense.”

“Well, Lieutenant Commander, you may soon get your chance to prove this claim, that is, if Yamamoto doesn’t lose his nerve first.” He gave Fukada a conspiratorial wink, then shook his head. “After a few glasses of saké, you are much more tolerable, and a man begins to believe anything he chooses. Very well, I will not cut your head off today, but mind your manners tomorrow when I awake with the headache that will surely follow from my indulgence this night.”