They crested a hill and the path leveled off. Passing under the final gate, they arrived at the shrine itself: a small covered structure with an altar beneath it. A water-filled trough stood off to the side and two carved stone animals guarded the approach.
Ushi-Oni stepped toward it.
“You must wash first,” the priest said.
Ushi-Oni felt the sting of being told what to do. “I told you, I’ve already bathed.”
“The hands must be clean,” the priest said.
Reluctantly, Ushi-Oni placed his clothes aside and dipped his hands in the trickling water. The water was frigid, completely opposite to the hot bath he’d come from.
He pulled his hands out, shook them off and glared at the priest. “I’ve brought an offering.”
“You must rinse your mouth as well,” the priest said.
Ushi-Oni ignored the request and pulled out the marker chip that Han had given him. A marker that he’d chosen not to redeem.
“What is it?” the priest asked.
“A relic of my former life.”
The priest looked him over sternly, studying him like a disapproving schoolmaster. “Your past is a criminal one.”
And my future, Ushi-Oni thought. “I wish to escape who I am and reinvent myself as someone new. Isn’t that what you’re here for?”
“So it is,” the priest said. He picked up a ladle, filled it with water and handed it to Oni. “But you must rinse your mouth. It is required.”
Ushi-Oni had played the part long enough. He tossed the ladle down in disgust and stepped toward the old man, grabbing him by the loose vestments.
“You are possessed of an evil spirt,” the priest said.
“You have no idea,” Ushi-Oni growled. “Now, take me to the sanctuary. I wish to view what the Tokagawa family placed in your possession.”
The priest squirmed, but his feeble strength was no match for Ushi-Oni’s. “There is nothing there to see,” the priest stammered. “Nothing there for a criminal to steal. Just wisdom, which you reject.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Ushi-Oni said.
The priest tried to free himself, but Ushi-Oni slammed him against the trough, stunning him. The frail man went limp and Oni pulled his garment open. Around the priest’s neck hung a set of keys.
Oni grabbed and ripped them forth hard enough to snap the chain on which they hung.
The priest cried out, but Ushi-Oni covered his mouth and then snapped his neck with a swift twist of his arms.
Dropping the body to the ground, Ushi-Oni looked around him. A cool wind rustled through the bamboo, but, other than that, the forest was quiet.
Certain that he was alone, Oni took off his robe and then removed the priest’s garment and pulled it over his shoulders. The robe fit snugly; Oni was much larger than the dead priest. And, try as he might, he could not place the strange hat in a manner that looked normal. He slid the strap under his chin and left it crooked.
Before leaving the shrine, he dropped the naked priest in the trough. “Cleanse yourself, shinsoku.”
With the evidence of his first crime hidden, Oni tossed the brass casino marker toward the shrine, picked up his folded clothes once again and continued on the path toward the Shinto monastery up above.
* * *
• • •
SUPERINTENDENT NAGANO was glad to see the white van pull in beside him. His most trusted lieutenant and two plainclothes officers got out.
“Is he still here?” the lieutenant asked.
Nagano pointed toward the hills. “He’s gone up to the shrine.”
The lieutenant looked suspicious. “What would a man like Ushi-Oni want at a shrine?”
“I doubt he’s after forgiveness,” Nagano said.
“And you’re sure it’s him?”
“I saw him twice. It’s the man Zavala described,” Nagano said. “I want to take him alive. Preferably, out in the woods where there are no civilians.”
The lieutenant nodded. He carried a pistol and what they called a shock stick, essentially a high-powered Taser on a long pole—very useful in crowd control. The two officers had Heckler & Koch submachine guns, derivatives of the famous MP5 except with a much shorter barrel, a feature that made them excellent for close-quarters combat.
Nagano pulled out his own pistol. He was tired of waiting. “Let’s go.”
They moved quickly and silently, passing the vacant onsen and climbing their way up the bamboo-lined path to the thicket of torii gates. They arrived at the shrine without incident. There they stopped, but all they found was the hotel robe hastily rolled up and stuffed under the altar.
“He was wearing this,” Nagano said. “He must have changed back into his own clothing.”
“Look at this,” one of the men called from beside the trough.
Nagano rushed over and the two of them lifted the dead priest out of the purifying water.
“Any doubt that this is the Demon we’re tracking should be gone now.”
“Are you still getting a signal?” the lieutenant asked.
Nagano checked the display on his tablet. They were not in range of any cell towers there in the mountains, but with the direct-seeking mode, he was able to locate the tracking coin. “He’s in the sanctuary.”
They rushed along the path, arriving at the entrance to the monastery building only to find the front door ajar. Candles flickered here and there. A small fire burned in a stone hearth, but there was no sign of Ushi-Oni. Or anyone else, for that matter.
“I don’t like it,” the lieutenant said. “It’s too quiet.”
“Where are the priests?” one of the men asked.
Nagano couldn’t answer that. Some of the smaller shrines were sparsely attended or even left alone, but the sanctuary and the candles told him this one was occupied. He clicked off the safety on his pistol. “We can only assume the worst.”
The lieutenant nodded. “Which way?”
Nagano checked the scanner. The red dot blinked steady and still. “He’s in the back. Let’s go.”
They moved down the hall and came upon the body of another priest. He lay in a pool of blood just inside one of the doors. They found three more in the next room. Two more bodies and a pair of ransacked rooms confirmed that Ushi-Oni was on a killing spree.
Nagano paused and made a slashing motion across his neck. All thoughts of taking Ushi-Oni alive had vanished. They would shoot him on sight. If he lived, so be it. If he didn’t . . . he would be getting what he deserved.
Nagano crept forward. They were nearing the end of the hall. The flashing indicator on Nagano’s screen told them Ushi-Oni was in the room on the left.
For the first time, Nagano could hear movement. He braced himself, took a deep breath and then lunged forward, kicking the door open.
He saw a figure dressed in black who was hunched over a desk. He raised his weapon and was about to fire when the figure turned. It wasn’t the face of a killer but another of the elderly priests.
The man was tied to the chair with an electrical cord. On the desk in front of the prisoner, sitting on a folded white garment, was a tiny circular object with a hole in the middle. The tracking coin.
Realization came too late. A shout of pain from behind him confirmed it.
Nagano spun in time to see the flash of a sword decapitate his lieutenant and take the arm off of another of the men.
The third officer was already on the ground, a throwing knife sticking out of his back.
Nagano fired once but missed and the bullet buried itself uselessly in the wall. The flashing sword hit the side of the pistol before Nagano could fire again. It took off the tips of his fingers and knocked the gun across the room.
Nagano dove for the weapon, trying to grasp it with his right hand, but Ushi-Oni was faster. A kick to the ribs sent Naga
no over onto his side. He wound up against the desk with the point of the ancient sword pressed up against his neck.
He froze as the Demon stared down at him. He expected to be run through at any second, but instead Ushi-Oni laughed and held him there like an insect under a pin.
“Looking for this?” Ushi-Oni said, as he picked up the tracking coin.
Nagano said nothing. He was grasping his hand to stop the bleeding and desperately thinking of a way to reach the pistol. The truth was, any movement would split the skin of his throat.
Ushi-Oni twisted the sword a fraction and blood began to trickle down Nagano’s neck. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you following me? I saw you below me on the switchback road. I waited for you at the gas station and watched as you placed that beacon on my car. I must admit, it made me wonder how you had been tracking me in the first place. Then I found your little coin.”
As Oni spoke, he held the coin is his hand. “Close,” he added. “Very, very close. But it’s not quite as heavy as the real thing.”
He flung it at Nagano, hitting him in the face.
“Go ahead and kill me,” Nagano said. “It won’t save you. You slaughter monks and policemen. You’ll have nowhere to hide after this. Not now that your face is known.”
Instead of killing him, Ushi-Oni crouched and picked up the shock stick, testing its weight in his free hand. “Once they see what you do,” he said, “they’ll forget all about me.”
With that, he jammed the shock stick into Nagano’s chest and sent a powerful wave of electricity through him. A second wave followed and then a third. Nagano couldn’t do anything but spasm with each shock and try to endure the pain.
He lasted several minutes and then his world faded mercifully to black.
29
NAGASAKI
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 c
loser 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.”