The Rising Sea

29

The city of Nagasaki was sandwiched between the mountains and the ocean at the western tip of Japan. With limited space to build outward, its neighborhoods rose up into the hills, where they gazed at one another across a narrow bay.

The geography gave Nagasaki a compact, old-world feel, reminiscent of San Francisco. It was a feeling enhanced by the bustling port and the high-decked suspension bridge coated in orange paint that linked the two sides together.

Kurt, Joe and Akiko arrived in the city driving another car from Kenzo’s collection. A 1972 Skyline GT-R. The four-door sedan was one of the first truly collectable cars produced on the island. Still, it was bare-bones compared to the Bentley.

“One might say our vehicular status seems to be trending in the wrong direction,” Joe said from the backseat, “but I think I prefer this to the Bentley.”

Akiko turned to Joe from the passenger seat. “I’m glad you appreciate it,” she said. “This is the first car I restored for Master Kenzo. It was a labor of love.”

“The lines are classic and aggressive,” Joe said. “Just the way I like them.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and took the ramp to the bridge. “A rental car would have been just fine. It would have included a better heater.”

Akiko shook her head. “Rental cars are too automated. Did you know the car companies track their whereabouts using RFID tags and the signals from the satellite radio receivers? They don’t need LoJack or any other dedicated system to watch you. And many newer cars are equipped with remote operating authority. They can turn off your engine from a computer terminal whenever they like.”

Kurt grinned; something about conspiracy theorists warmed his heart. “Which they probably wouldn’t do as long as Rudi keeps paying the credit card bills. Anyway, we’re not trying to sneak up on anyone. Our whole plan is based on speaking with Walter Han face-to-face.”

“And just how do you intend to make that happen?” Joe asked.

“I’m going to walk right up to him and ask him for help.”

Kurt said no more. They took the Hirado Bridge, crossed Nagasaki Bay and then drove down toward a sprawling facility that lay dockside. The gleaming complex took up a hundred acres and looked more like the futuristic headquarters of an advanced civilization than a factory. Geometrically arranged concrete buildings were set up in a campus-style arrangement. A sculpture garden lay between them, complete with walking paths and gently flowing water in narrow chutes. A track for testing automated vehicles was visible behind the facility, its snaking turns offset by a long straightaway that ran along the waterfront.

“That’s Han’s new facility,” Kurt noted. “Owned and operated by his company, China-Nippon Robotics, a joint venture with a group of wealthy Japanese investors. It officially opens today. First of two big ceremonies. The Prime Minister of Japan, the Mayor of Nagasaki and several members of Parliament are on hand. Each of them will be giving a short speech, which, if you know politicians, means a long-drawn-out talk.”

“They came all the way down here for a ribbon cutting?” Joe asked.

“There’s more on tap,” Kurt said. “The cooperation agreement between China and Japan is being signed here tomorrow. Not at the factory but at a place called the Friendship Pavilion. Also built with Han’s money.”

“How to win friends and influence nations,” Joe said.

“Exactly,” Kurt replied. “But it gives us a chance to move around unnoticed. They’re running this whole thing like a trade show. Both events are open to the public. That includes us.”

Kurt navigated the narrow streets, drove onto the grounds and was directed toward an underground parking garage. After parking, they left the car, found an escalator and emerged into the hum of a bustling crowd.

Lights flashed all around them, small machines moved here and there, a holographic face projected on a veil of mist greeted them. “The future is closer than you think…” its recorded voice said.

Ahead of them, neon lights and pulsating music made it seem as if they were walking into a club. Artificial arms, complete with painted fingernails, stretched from a wall, offering to shake hands.

Akiko shook her head. “Akumu,” she whispered, using the Japanese word for nightmare. “It’s like the seventh ring of hell.”

Kurt noticed her demeanor. It wasn’t a phobia or discomfort, just a sort of resigned disgust, like a pious man walking into Sodom and Gomorrah. “Consider this an educational opportunity. At least you’ll know what you’re missing.”

“Or escaping from,” she said.

After picking up badges at the front desk, they were given headsets that could be tuned to a specific language. As they approached the various booths and displays, a recording was triggered in the headset, explaining what they were looking at.

The first booth was a generic industrial display. “Advanced robotics will eliminate the need for man to perform many tedious tasks,” the recording told them. “Within a decade, our robotics will replace the boredom of long-distance driving, the backbreaking labor of working in a warehouse, delivering packages or hauling away trash. Even the construction of roads will be automated by giant machines, freeing humanity from the burden.”

“And freeing them from their paychecks,” Joe said.

“Not a fan of automation?” Kurt asked.

“Not if it renders me obsolete.”

“Now you’re thinking my way,” Akiko said.

They wandered to another section of the facility where a crowd had gathered. “Here we have the service version of our latest human assistance model, the HAM 9X.”

As the light came up, they saw a female form in a French maid’s outfit. The face was soft and realistic, although quite expressionless. The eyes were bright. The lips plum-colored and supple.

“My name is Ny Nex,” the robot said, the lips moving as she spoke. A wink followed, which pleased all the men in the crowd. “I’m here to handle your every need.”

Kurt was surprised by the human quality of the voice. It sounded neither prerecorded nor computer-generated. He moved closer and studied the machine. In a simulated kitchen, it rinsed and dried dishes and unloaded several bags of groceries, putting everything into its proper place. It then began to make a pot of freshly ground coffee, all without spilling a single grind.

“I think we’ve found the solution to your girlfriend drought,” Kurt said to Joe.

Akiko gave Joe a sideways look and Joe shook his head, protesting vigorously. “I like to work on machines. I’m not interested in dating one.”

“How wonderful,” Akiko said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Soon we won’t need other humans for anything. We can all live on our own, surrounded by mechanical servants.”

“Not me,” Joe said. “I prefer a human touch.”

Kurt had to laugh. He’d never seen Joe so smitten. He glanced at his watch. “We need to get over to the ceremony if we’re going to catch Han’s speech.”

They moved on, passing several other interesting displays and making their way to the great hall. It was standing room only in the auditorium. Up on the dais, Walter Han was speaking not about robotics but about opportunities for Japan and China to cooperate.

“The two great powers of Asia will change the world in this coming century, but first we must change our relationship. The past must be forgotten. The mistakes of the previous century left to history so as not to derail the future.”

“Interesting subject, considering all the tension in the South China Sea and the dispute over the Senkaku Islands,” Joe noted.

Han soon touched on that. “…The Chinese government is now moving to end several impasses,” he said. “A new proposal granting Japan full control over the islands in question is being prepared. No longer will we fight over trivial things, when partnership can bring both great nations so much more.”

A wave of applause went up.

“He speaks as if he holds all the power,” Akiko replied.

“Nagano said he has a quasi-diplomatic status.”

“But did you hear the word he chose? Granting Japan control over her own islands.” Akiko was offended. “The arrogance drips from him.”

Kurt didn’t argue. He just turned back to Han and listened. Eventually, he finished and the ribbon was cut. China-Nippon Robotics was officially open for business and the celebration began.

While the political figures vanished — hustled offstage by their security teams — Han came forward, glad-handing his way through the crowd, stopping and talking to people on the way.

“Time for me to go introduce myself,” Kurt said.

Joe stepped aside. “We’ll meet you outside in the hall. Good luck.”

The auditorium was emptying as Kurt made his way down the aisle. The longer Han was delayed, the more effort he put into leaving. He shook hands more briskly and cut every conversation short. He brushed off one man with a quick smile and a bow and then turned to go, only to find Kurt blocking his path.

“Walter Han,” Kurt said, proffering a hand. “So glad I caught you. Excellent speech, by the way.”

Han’s face was a mask that didn’t reveal much, but a look of surprise had appeared for the briefest of instants. “I’m sorry,” Han said. “Do I know you?”

“Not personally,” Kurt said. “My name is Austin. Kurt Austin. I’m the head of Special Projects at NUMA — the National Underwater and Marine Agency, based out of Washington, D.C. You and I haven’t met face-to-face, but I — or, should I say, my technical people — are big fans of your work.”

Han’s demeanor went from annoyed to pleasant. “How, exactly?”

Kurt played the part to the hilt. “We use a growing number of robotic and automated vehicles in our deep-sea efforts. We’re currently beginning an important expedition into anomalies we’ve discovered in the East China Sea.”

Kurt hoped to spook Han, but the mention of the East China Sea brought nothing from the man. He remained taciturn and opaque.

“China-Nippon Robotics would be honored to work with an organization as renowned as NUMA,” Han replied. “In fact, we have several aquatic models designed for pipeline inspection and deep-sea drilling that you may find useful. Call my office on Monday. I’ll put you in touch with the operations director.”

“I’m afraid Monday will be too late,” Kurt said. “We launch tomorrow. We feel it’s urgent not to waste any time.”

“Why the rush?” Han asked, his brow knitted together for effect.

“The anomalies I’m speaking of are geologic in nature,” Kurt explained, “a series of inexplicable earthquakes. Considering the region’s history with tsunamis and other tectonic disasters, we feel the investigation cannot be delayed. In other words, we need to know what’s going on down there. Any chance you and I could talk later tonight?”

Han shook his head. “Not possible. But leave your contact information with my office. If the chance to help does come up, CNR would be glad to oblige.”

He shook Kurt’s hand again. “Best of luck. Enjoy the Expo. Excuse me.”

With that, Han brushed past. He continued down the aisle, accompanied by several of his people, and pushed out into the hall.

Kurt let him go, before meeting up with Joe and Akiko.

“Well?” Joe asked. “Has the tree been shaken?”

“It has,” Kurt said. “Unfortunately, it turned out to be an oak. He didn’t bat an eye.”

“Did you lay it on thick?”

“Any thicker and you’d need a road grader to spread it.”

“Maybe Superintendent Nagano was right,” Akiko said. “To continue your tree metaphor, perhaps we’re barking up the wrong one.”

Kurt wasn’t ready to give in. “Let’s give it time to work. If he’s involved, he’ll respond, one way or another.”

“And if he’s clean?”

“Then he’ll go back to his office, laugh about the crazy American he just met and we’ll be back to square one.”