19th Century Japan
In the 18th century and before, the Japanese had an exclusionist policy that forbid any contact with
outsiders. The exclusionist policy started to crumble in 1808 when the HMS Phaeton sailed into
Nagasaki harbor with British flags flying and cannons roaring. The Japanese had no naval defenses at
that time, and were completely at the mercy of the British. The Nagasaki magistrate was so humiliated
he committed suicide.
In 1824 near Kagoshima, local residents and British sailors began arguing over some inconsequential
matter. Soon, both sides were firing at each other. This led the Japanese to declare they would
attack any foreign ship that entered Japanese waters.
Eighteen years later, the Shogunate realized they could not enforce this policy, so they agreed to
allow ships to refuel and restock only in designated ports. Many Japanese citizens were outraged and
demanded the foreigners be kicked out of their homeland. An uneasy truce lasted several years.
On 8th July 1853, the first American, Commodore Perry, sailed into the harbor at Edo. Perry demanded
good treatment for shipwrecked sailors, the appointment of an American consul, and the opening of Japan
to foreign trade. The Shogunate reluctantly agreed to Perry's demands, opening Shimoda and Hakodate
to trade.
The Shogunate, tired of being pushed around by foreigners, decided to arm Japan. They ordered
warships and armaments from Holland, and employed the Dutch to train Japanese sailors in Naval
warfare. This was the beginning of the modern Japanese Navy.
Townsend Harris was the first American Consul appointed to Japan. He immediately started trying
to establish more trade with Japan, which caused a resurgence of the anti foreign faction. Shortly
after Harris became the consul, the Shogun Tokugawa Iesada died without an heir. This caused a
split in the Tokugawa. A Tairo (great counselor) named Ii Naotsuke was appointed to straighten out
the mess. Ii Naotsuke settled in favor of Tokugawa Yoshitomo. He also signed five treaties with
foreign countries and placed those in opposition to Tokugawa Yoshitomo under house arrest.
On 24th March 1860, an eighteen year old Samurai from Satsuma and Mito assassinated Ii Naotsuke on
the Sakurada Bridge. One Samurai cut off Ii Naotsuke's head, and later committed Hara Kiri outside
the mansion of the senior counsel. This marked the beginning of a terror campaign against foreigners and their sympathizers.
Out of the resulting chaos emerged a new breed of Samurai, known as the Shishi (Men of high purpose).
As the Shishi gained strength, the Samurai spirit grew and the stature of the Samurai increased.
Although he was only a young man, Saigo Takamori of Satsuma became the leader of the Shishi forces.
The aims of the Shishi were to protect their land against the foreign influences and to revere the
Emperor. It was not long before one faction of the Shishi turned their swords against the foreigners. Foreign officials were tracked down and beheaded. Their heads were displayed on poles in the streets.
In 1862, a British businessman was killed by the Shishi. The British demanded reparations and the
Shogun involved refused to pay. The British attacked and began a naval bombardment of Kagoshima and
Choshu. This bombardment made the Shishi realize that they were unable to protect themselves against
awesome fire power of the British Navy. The Shishi finally realized that they would have to
cooperate with the foreigners. The violence toward foreign visitors decreased.
After a violent civil war, the Shogunate was defeated and the last Shogun gave up his political
authority to the Emperor. The victors hunted down and killed the last of the fanatical Shishi,
or so they thought.
1945
The Enola Gay made military history in the early morning of August 6, 1945. The bombardier dropped
the first atomic bomb used in war and released the most destructive force ever known on earth.
By the end of the year between 130,000 and 150,000 people in Hiroshima died because of the bomb.
Hirano Satoshi was in his office on the morning of the tragedy. A man of consumate routine, he
always arrived early. He was proud of his position as the senior public official in the water
department. He liked to greet each of his employees as they came in with a personal comment or
question. Satoshi was large for a Japanese, and followed the ways of the ancient discipline of
Jojutsu, which kept him in excellent physical condition.
It was a morning like every other to Satoshi. He watched as those around him began their daily
routine. Sitting down at his desk, the room suddenly lit up like a thousand flash bulbs going off
at once. The air was suddenly stifling hot, it was difficult to breathe. Satoshi yelled to his
workers to lie down on the floor quickly. Less than five seconds later, the shockwave hit. No
one was prepared for what happened next. Windows imploded, as the whole building trembled and
began it's journey to collapse, floor after floor. The last Hirano Satoshi realized before losing
consciousness was that he was falling.
Satoshi wasn't aware of how long he was unconscious. He did realize he was under a lot of rubble,
but his arms and legs were free. As he started to think more clearly, Satoshi realized he was
partially under his desk and that it had probably saved his life. He began to move loose boards
from above him and to push them under the knee hole of the desk. Soon he had enough of an area
cleared that he could see the gray, blackened sky above him. He half stood and forced his way
up through the last of the rubble.
The sight that awaited him was like something out of Dante's Inferno. Black, bellowing smoke rose
from crumbled buildings, untouched fires spreading, laping at anything that would burn. Dead bodies
were everywhere. People were stumbling about blinded by the flash. Some had the skin
peeled from all exposed parts of their bodies. Everyone was screaming, some were cursing, everyone
was asking questions that no one had answers for. Satoshi looked up at the sky and saw that half
of it looked like a beautiful summer day, while the other half looked as black as the darkest night.
Off in the distance, other buildings exploded and started to burn for no apparent reason. Mountains
of distorted rubble was everywhere, burned bodies lay in the tangled mess. Satoshi started trying to
find the employees in his building. He heard a low moan and moved some loose boards to his right.
One young woman who worked for him was pinned under a ceiling beam of the office. Her once young
face was now a mangle of crushed bone and tattered skin. "Please help me," the woman gasped as
blood oozed from an open gash on her head. Satoshi frantically tried to lift the beam, and began
calling for help. Two young men rushed to his side, their clothes tattered and blood soaked as
they strained to lift the beam. One young man paused as fear filled his eyes. Suddenly smoke rose
from the ruin near the young woman.
The three men increased their efforts, but it was soon apparent they couldn't free the young
woman without equipment. The smoke became flame and the flame became an inferno. When the heat
became unbearable, the men slowly backed away from the young woman and bowed very deeply in
apology for having to leave her. The screams of the young woman lay heavy in his heart, as he
turned his back from her, unable to watch her perish so horribly. Even as she died, her screams
remained in his heart, haunting him.
Satoshi stumbled away from the growing fire in search of his family. It was only five blocks
from the water department to the Hirano residence, but it
took Satoshi over an hour to reach his home. When he arrived, he almost wished he hadn't survived
the trip. The first thing he saw was his sixteen-year-old daughter, Atsuo, lying with her head
in her mother's lap. At first he couldn't see anything wrong with her and he asked her how she was.
Atsuo smiled faintly at her father and told him she was feeling better now, and that the pain wasn't
so bad. Satoshi glanced at his wife who shook her head and pulled aside the blanket that was
covering Atsuo. A sheet of flying glass had slashed her stomach, and her intestines were draped
over the lower part of her body. As he watched, Atsuo slumped further down and her gaze became
fixed on something that was not of this world. Satoshi gently covered his daughter and helped
his wife to her feet. As they started down the street in search of their younger son, Satoshi
asked his wife, Isao, if she was injured. She told him she had suffered only a condition like a
mild sunburn and that she didn't think that it was anything to worry about. Satoshi gazed upon
her once lovely face. Her cheek bones was sunken, the skin around her eyes had reddened as small
blisters formed on her neck. He knew in his heart she had more then a mild sunburn. His eyes filled
with tears as he brought her close to him, kissing her gently on the forehead.
They found their son Muso two hours later in an over crowded aid station. Muso had been in the
area of the black rain that was caused by the fallout from the blast. It had gotten on his
clothes and skin and it wouldn't wash off. The overworked doctor at the station suggested that
they take Muso to one of the temporary shelters that had been set up on the edge of town farthest
from the blast. By the time they reached the shelter, night was falling. The volunteers who
helped them to find cots were haggard and worn. The Hirano family were so tired they collapsed
onto the three cots they were assigned and fell immediately to sleep. Muso never woke up.
Over the next two weeks, Satoshi watched his wife grow thinner and weaker. When she could eat,
she soon lost it. Satoshi felt himself becoming weaker also and he wondered how long it would be
before he could no longer eat. Isao died on the sixteenth day after the blast.
Satoshi's son, Kiso, arrived in Hiroshima two weeks after his mother died.The sky was overcast with
a gray mist, the sun found no reprive through it's vast denseness. Reports received by the Army and
relayed to the concerned military personnel couldn't cover in words the devastation he saw.
Collaspsed building, collaspsed bodies, some already dead, some that should have died. The smell
of burnt wood, decaying bodies and fallout caused his stomach to wretch. Kiso stopped amid the
devastation. Sweat poured from his body, he could smell the odors surrounding him clinging to him.
The urge to run from the horror was overpowering. Honor for his country and love of his family kept
him where he stood. Kiso forced the bile back, his determination to find his family great.
He forced away the reality of what he saw as he searched throughout the city without learning
anything about his family. Finally, after two days of searching endless shelters, he met an old
family friend who told him where his father was staying.
When Kiso arrived at the shelter, he asked for his father and was taken to his cot. Kiso stared
at the man who was once his father. He didn't recognize him. The large robust man was gone.
In his place was a shrunken being that looked like a skeleton with parchment stretched over it.
The thick glossy mane of hair he remembered was almost gone, only clumps of grayish ashened hair
remained. Kiso knew there had to be some mistake, some dreadful mistake. This wasn't his
father.....it couldn't be. As he was about to go looking for one of the volunteers, he saw the
eyelids flutter and open. The sunken eyes focused on him and a smile moved the shrunken lips.
A voice, barely audible spoke. "I told them I would not die until you got here," he said.
"I am pleased that you came home, my son". The skeleton hand rose from under the old blanket,
rising towards Kiso. Kiso hurried to his fathers side, kneeling, he took the cold, almost lifeless
hand in his. " I have many things I must tell you before I can allow myself to depart".
During the next couple of hours, without moving from his father's side, Kiso listened as the
story of the bombing slowly emerged. He watched as Satoshi forced the words out, wincing in pain
while he told of the fate of his brother, sister and his mother.
"The Hirano are direct descendants of the Samurai, my son," Satoshi whispered. "Very few people
know this. It is kept secret because we are descended from the Shishi. You have read in your
history books that the Shishi were violent Samurai who opposed the Emperor and were disgraced."
Satoshi's voice rose in honor as he spoke of his heritage. " This is not the case. The Shishi
strongly revered the Emperor. They believed that the influence of the foreigners, who were
increasingly invading our homeland, were responsible for our problems. It was the foreigners
who allied with factions opposing the Shishi who defeated them. We have passed the knowledge
and beliefs of the Shishi down from father to son, as soon as the son proved worthy of the
knowledge." Satoshi's frail hand clung to Kiso's. "My son, you have proven yourself in war and
in your dedication to the family. You are aware my son, I started you in the discipline of
Jojutsu at an early age. This is because the Shishi are required to practice the art. It is up
to you to carry on the traditions of the Shishi. After I am gone, go to the Dojo in Tokyo and
ask for Okawa Yukio. Tell him that I have died and you are to take my place on the Shishi council.
He will instruct you in all you must know." Satoshi paused, forcing himself to continue.
"There is one thing more I must charge you with, my son." His fingers bore into the skin of
Kiso's hand as he spoke, as an unseen strength gathered itself to Satoshi. "Foreigners have
taken the honor from our country since the early 1800s. Now they have killed our entire family
except for you my son. They must pay for this." Kiso watched the eyes of the man he knew to never
hold and ill thought against anyone, become hard and cold. "They must suffer as we have suffered.
Promise me you will make them pay. Promise me you will win back our honor." Kiso gazed at the
sunken eyes that had always spoke of honor and tradition. He rose from his fathers side. Holding
back the tears he felt stinging his eyes, he stared at the broken proud man before him. His heart
soared with the honor and respect he felt for his family. He bowed low to his father. "You have my
promise Father. I will return the honor of our family, if it takes a hundred years."
Satashi's mission was complete. His head bowed ever so slightly, in honor of his son. Slowly he
closed his eyes and died.
Saturday, August 4, 2035
Al Green was always impressed when he visited Modern Electronics. This time, as he half listened
to his brother, Sam, owner and founder of the company, was no exception. They walked slowly down
the pristine white corridor connecting the offices to the development laboratory, and as usual Sam
was telling him about the latest products his company was developing. Sunshine streamed in through
the tall windows as Al smiled at his brother, patiently waiting out the explanations. It seemed Sam
was always doing something, always on the move, and showing off the companies accomplishments was
one of his greatest joys. It wasn't that Al wasn't interested in what his brother had to say, he
just couldn't keep up with the technobabble that Sam was inclined to speak.
Sometimes he wondered if Linda, Sam's wife, could follow what Sam was saying. Al grinned to himself,
thinking of the pretty woman Sam was lucky enough to win over. Maybe when they went to bed Sam
actually spoke English, or maybe the technobabble actually turned Linda on. Al restrained a giggle.
In any case they had two of the sweetest girls anyone could claim to be an uncle to.
"Hey, wait a minute," Al kidded, placing his hand affectionately on Sam's shoulder. "Back up on
that last one and go over it in words of one syllable. Are you saying that you've developed
dihedron memory crystals that'll hold six gigabytes?"
Sam paused, smiling at his brother, knowing full well he'd been only half listening to his
techniceze. "Well, not exactly. We're calling the new crystals polyhedrons because they have six
usable faces instead of the one usable face that the old crystals have. Since you're a computer
nerd, you use the old crystals all the time." Sam grinned at his brother, knowing that last would
get a rise out of Al. He put up his hand to ward off the onslaught of denial. "You already know
that the old crystals actually changed the lattice structure of the surface layer to store
information. They're limited to one gig storage. If you tried to write the data bits too close
together the outer layer of the crystal would erode. We haven't gotten around that problem, but
we're working on it. What we did do was make all surfaces of the crystal available for writing
and reading data. It's a minor change in the crystal itself, and it'll fit into the old dihedron
cavities in any computer that uses them."
"So you mean," asked Al, seeing the possibilities, "that I can put one of your new crystals in
my pocket computer and write a total of six gigs of data on it? Do I have to change anything in
the computer itself? When are these things going to be available? Do they cost an arm and a leg?"
"Hold on," Sam laughed, his excitement apparent in his voice. "Looks like I finally got your
attention" he grinned at his older brothers obvious interest. "That's right Brother. You can
write six gigs to it. It has as good or better retention than the old crystals, and they're
cheaper to make. We've preprogrammed the boot area of the crystal so that it tells the computer
what size it is and how to find the data areas, so you don't have to do a thing. It looks like
it's going to be six months to a year before they're available on the market, but that's mainly
due to a lack of startup capital." Sam nudged Al in the ribs kiddingly. "Would you like to invest
a couple of million? Maybe we could make an honest business man out of you yet. I know it would
make Dad happy."
Al shook his head slowly, remembering the countless times he'd tried to explain his choice in careers
to his father. It was futile to try and make him understand, his mind was made up that Al was a
deadhead. "Poor Dad. He can never understand why you and I took different paths." He sighed, his
eyes shadowing against a memory he couldn't forget. "You know I love him, Sam. It just gets hard
to take sometimes being compared to you. I feel that I'm making a contribution to society, too.
I know my computer games aren't as socially redeeming as the new products you invent, but I do
alright financially."
"Hey Sam, you don't have to convince me! I know how hard you work on those games, and you deserve
the monotary returns." He stopped in the middle of the corridor gazing forelornly at his brother.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit a sore spot. It seems like ever since Mom died, Dad has been
obsessed with making a lasting impression. You were seventeen, I was fourteen. Maybe Dad's
lectures made a bigger impression on me." Sam sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, a
gesture Al had seen since Sam was a kid. When something couldn't be explained, or Sam couldn't
find an answer, that was what he did. "I don't know. There are times I wish I were more like you,
easy going and free. It seems like I always have to be producing, coming up with the big ideas."
The forlorn look on his face slowly slide away as he grinned, the flashing smile a mirror image of
Al's. "It can be fun though. . . and profitable." he laughed, slapping Al on the back.
They resumed their walk down the corridor, brother beside brother, just as it had always been. The
silence between them was comfortable, as though they both knew what the other was thinking.
"How much do you need for startup capital on this? Maybe I could invest." Al mused out loud.
"Well, the accountants say that it's going to cost around ten million to convert our existing
equipment. I already have pledges for a little over five million, so . . . "
By this time they had reached the lab area. The bright fluresent lighting filled the room, giving
the pristine white walls the look of a sterile operating room. Long slanted tables covering the
length of the lab stood on both sides of the room. Several men and woman were hunched over the
tables, their tall, bar like stools reaching unusually high. Al nodded to a couple of the employes
as they looked up from their work, recognizing them from previous visits. Sam moved close to a tall,
dark headed, scraggly looking character Al knew was probably the best microprocessor designer on the
planet. Sam had whisked him away from DynaCom, the biggest computer research firm in the nation,
five years previously, and it had cost him an arm and a leg, but it was worth every penny.
Edison Jones looked up from his work and grinned at Sam. He was tall, lanky and a little stoop
shouldered. His piercing green eyes saw everything around him, moving constantly, never resting
for long on any one thing. He was listening to a walkman, the music so loud Al and Sam could hear
it from where they stood. The small dehydron component walkman rested in Edison's shirt pocket, a
bit smaller then a credit card, while the ear phones blasted away in his ears. There were no
wires to get in the way, only the smooth sounds of jazz came from the ear pieces. It had been a big
seller for Sam and the company, and the brain child of Edison.
Sam reached over on a nearby work
table, picked up a package, and handed it to Al. "Here's a free sample of the new polyhedrons.
There are six in the package, so there is a total storage of 36 Gigabytes in this little package.
They don't have the company logo or anything yet, but give ‘em a try and tell me what you think".
Al smiled his thanks, looked the package over briefly, and dropped it in his jacket pocket.
Al patted the pocket holding the polyhedron crystal. "Little brother, I think I might be able to
raise some, or maybe even the rest of the capital for you. This discovery of yours will change the
computer industry as we now know it. Of course, I can't finance that kind of money all by myself,
but I have a few friends who're interested in computers and the future. I think they'll be able to
see how big this is going to be. We would expect a reasonable return on the money, and a piece of the
profits, but it could be done."
The satisfied smile on Sam's face was smug. "I knew if anyone could see the advantages to this new
advancement, you could. You don't know how good that makes me feel, big brother." The smile faded,
replaced by a shadow. "I know I don't tell you everything that's going on with the business, but
I'm really afraid of losing control of the business right now. I'm under a lot of pressure to go
public with the company and issue stock. I don't want to do that, just for that reason. I don't
want to lose control." Gazing sideways, Al saw the concern in his brothers face.
"Well, I'm sure we could work something out so that all you did was repay our capital plus interest
and a piece of the profits. I sure don't want control. Remember, I'm the black sheep of the family
who hasn't quite grown up yet."
"I'm glad someone doesn't want control of my business. I thought I was going to have to hire a
commando squad to get rid to the Japanese who were here yesterday."
"Japanese? What did they want?", Al asked, concerned.
Al watched Sam's face as the unpleasant memory returned. "Well, they've heard of the new polyhedron process and God knows where they heard it." Sam shook his head in disbelief. "The next thing I know, they're wanting to buy my business. It was unbelieveable! They came right out and asked me to give them a price. When I said I wasn't interested in selling, they tried to buy the patent rights to the process." Sam raked his hand through his hair in exasperation. "Al, they may have been Japanese, and the guy in charge was polite, hell, he even bowed in the traditional way, but there was nothing traditional about him. He reminded me of the classic used car salesman. And his business partner was even stranger. He was supposed to be a businessman, but he looked more like a professional killer. He had the strangest eyes I've ever seen. I don't think he ever blinked, and he didn't take his eyes off me the whole time he was here. I don't mind admitting I was more than a little intimidated."
"Did they finally accept the fact that you weren't going to sell to them?" Al asked.
"I don't think they really did. They left, but said they were going to be back next week, and that if I knew what was good for me I would reconsider. At least they left. I told Marge not to let them in if they come back."
"If they give you too much trouble, kid, call the cops. That's what we pay them for, so why not make use of them? Maybe you should call them anyway. That is a threat you know."
"Oh, I don't think they'll be back. I think they were just trying to save face. Like I said, Marge won't let them in. I've never seen anyone yet who could intimidate her." Sam grinned. They both knew his right hand lady could take on the best of them and come out without a scratch, even at four foot eleven, you didn't mess with Marge.
As Sam walked Al out to his car, they made a date for Al to come over the following weekend for dinner and a romp with the girls. As he took off in his little red sports car, Al couldn't help but smile in anticipation. If he never had kids, at least he had the next best thing. Sam's kids.
