“And how do we prevent this?”
“We have brought many of our retainers. They are trained for war, and the kirishitan are not. All the Christian samurai renounced Christianity, or went into exile, to Macao or Manila, many years ago. Our retainers have nothing to fear from a mob of farmers, fishermen, and craftsmen, let alone merchants.”
“Hmmph . . . Well, leave that be for now. Who else threatens us?”
“The Indians, and the Spanish.”
“Don’t assume the Dutch will always be our friends. They may like what they see in New Nippon, and try to seize it for themselves.”
“Thank you for pointing out my oversight, Father.”
His father took another sip. “Indeed, this warms my old bones. So, how do we defend against those threats?”
“Well, as I said already, we have your retainers.”
The elder Date frowned. “The encyclopedia says that there are three hundred thousand Indians in California. They aren’t, of course, all in Monterey, but still we must prepare for the possibility that the settlers from the First Fleet will be heavily outnumbered. And our retainers, even more so. And one day we may face—will face—the forces in New Spain.” Mexico.
His son worried his lip with his teeth before replying. “I supposed that means that we will have to teach the settlers how to defend themselves. Use the samurai as a mobile reserve.”
“Exactly. Which means—coming back to the point I raised earlier—that the kirishitan will then no longer be unschooled in the arts of war.”
“So what do we do, Father?”
“It is not so much what we do, as what you do. You must become a Christian, yourself.”
“A Christian? Well, I suppose I can. Does that mean that all our retainers must also become Christians?”
“No, leave it to their conscience. And I will not convert. If I did, they would, too, and if we were all Christian, that would make it more difficult to recruit non-Christian Japanese to come to New Nippon. And I have hopes to attract more ronin here, at the very least.
“You may, of course, be approached by certain of the kirishitan . . . who will suggest that it is your duty as a Christian to overthrow your father—”
“I will slay them on the spot!”
“You will listen, feign ambition tempered by fear and conscience, determine the names of their fellow conspirators . . . and then you may execute them all.”
“Thank you for this very good advice, Father.”
“You’re welcome. But you have yet to name the greatest threat of all.”
“Forgive my slowness. The Portuguese?”
“No, no, no.” The old lord lowered his voice. “The shogun himself. We have to walk a fine line. If we produce too little, then he may decide to cut off our supplies. What would we do without gunpowder and metal? According to the encyclopedia, these ‘American Indians,’ like the Ainu north of Nippon, only have stone weapons. Even if they ally with us, they will not be of much use against the Spanish.”
“And if we produce too much of value, he may regret his bargain with you, and seek to replace us with his own clansmen.”
“Exactly.”
On the Ieyasu Maru
Texada Island was in the Straits of Georgia. These separated the eastern coast of the southern half of Vancouver Island from the mainland of British Columbia. If the atlas copy could be trusted, then the iron was near the middle of Texada. Haruno and Tokubei had hoped that with the help of local Indians, they would be able to find it.
When they arrived at Gillies Bay, midway along the west coast of Texada, they spotted a trio of Indians. They appeared to be watching a killer whale pod. There were at least a dozen killer whales zipping about, and one was a baby. Tokubei’s interpreter identified the Indians as belonging to what an up-time anthropologist would call the Coast Salish, a rather loosely defined group of Indians speaking related lanaguages. She explained that the Coast Salish believed that a dead chief, or an ordinary tribesman that died by drowning, could be reborn as a killer whale. Perhaps, she suggested, there had recently been such a death, and the Indians were trying to determine if the baby had any markings that were reminiscent of the deceased tribesman.
Despite Tokubei’s technological advantage—the telescope—the waiting Coast Salish became aware of the Ieyasu Maru almost as soon as Tokubei spotted them. Or so Tokubei interpreted the gestures they made in his direction. They nonetheless held their ground; clearly, they thought that monitoring the behavior of the orcas was worth the risk posed by the “flying canoe.”
Tokubei had the launch lowered, and he, the interpreter, a miner, two samurai, and several sailors got on board and rowed obliquely toward shore, being careful to keep their distance both from the pod and the Indians. Tokubei’s interpreter called out a greeting.