Linnear 02 - The Miko (54 page)

He closed his eyes, knowing that there were no easy answers in life, nothing was so neat in reality as it was in fiction. One problem at a time, he thought. I must surmount the Chinese obstacle before I again think about ancient and arcane punishments.

Though he had been alone in the villa when he had arrived, he now heard the soft footfalls, opening and closing of doors that foretold the commencement of his assignation.

He reached for the pitcher of iced tea and poured himself a glass. It was bracing and delicious, just the tonic for this already steamy day.

Nangi did not turn his head as his keen ears picked up another’s approach but remained where he was, sipping his drink, staring out at the girl now emerging like a water nymph from the rolling South China Sea.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Nangi.”

By mutual agreement they spoke only English here. It was foreign to both of them but at least they hated it with an equal passion.

“Mr. Liu.” Nangi nodded his head to no one in particular. He heard the creak of the chaise beside him, the musical clink of ice against glass and only then turned his head.

Once this man’s ancestors must have been purebred Manchu, for he had the long, high-domed skull structure peculiar to them. He was tall for an Oriental; he knew it and used this advantage as an intimidating tool even when he was seated.

Liu was smiling now as he sipped at his drink. He put his head back against the chaise. “And how is the business climate in Japan, these days, Mr. Nangi?” Liu had the habit of beginning topics as if they had been spoken about previously.

“Very strong,” Nangi said shortly, thinking, I’ll give him nothing to chew on until I’m ready. “The forecast is formidable.”

“Ah,” the Chinese said, moving his head. “Then your, ah, keiretsu is not so much involved in the heavy industries that began your country’s great economic leap forward.” He put down his sweating glass, laced his fingers across his small potbelly. “It is my understanding that these industries such as steel manufacturinglong the very core of your economic progressare in serious financial straits in these days of worldwide recession.”

Nangi said nothing for a moment, wondering just how well this man was informed. He might know the worst of it or again he might be fishing in order to corroborate unconfirmed reports. It was essential that Nangi answer him without giving anything away.

“There is no problem with our steel kobun” he said carefully. “We have seen nothing but profits from it.”

“Indeed.” With that one word Liu made it clear that he did not believe Nangi’s statement. “And what of coal mining? Textile manufacturing? Petrochemicals, hm?”

“This topic is of no interest to me.”

Liu turned his high head like a dog on point. “And yet, Mr. Nangi, it is of interest to me why you would wish to sell a division of your organization that in your words has only made profits for you.”

“We are no longer interested in manufacturing steel.” Perhaps he had said it a shade too quickly. But at least now he knew the extent of the Chinese’s knowledge. It was formidable and he was even more on his guard now.

“The real problem for Japan has, I think, just begun,” Liu said much as an instructor will inform a pupil. “Your golden age of unlimited global economic expansion has come to an end. In years gone by you could export your finished product into foreign markets where they were snapped up immediately over their domestic competition. It gave you not only profits, of course, but an ever-expanding level of employment in your own country.

“But now times have changed.” Liu’s fingers unlaced, spread like a starfish, and closed down again, settling back on his stomach. “Let us take as our example one of your greatest successes: automobiles. Your invasion of the United States’ domestic auto market has caused a spate of unemployment in that country and not long ago forced one of its giant corporations to the brink of financial dissolution.

“You know as well as I do how slow the Americans are to take the initiative.” He smiled thinly. “But sooner or later the deepest sleeper must awake, and when his strength is as vast as is America’s, the awakening can be quite rude. Repeatedly now you have been slapped with import quotas from the U.S. government.

“Now you are beginning to understand what it is like to fence in the international arena. In order to survive you must export capital and technology, building new Nissan plants in Tennessee instead of in Kanda. That means less Japanese employment; less profits. Your era of free trade has ended.”

Despite the truth in what Liu was saying Nangi detected a strong streak of jealousy in the other man’s words. Wouldn’t the Chinese love to be in our economic position, he thought dryly.

“And then there is Yawata,” Liu continued. He was referring to Japan’s magnificent Yawata Steel Works, the oldest and largest of the country’s coastal mills, which began manufacturing in 1901. “Curious, I think. It is an historic relic of other times yet since 1973 your government has shoveled more than three billion dollars into updating and refining Yawata’s technology. And what has it availed them? Today Yawata is in far worse shape than it was after the oil shock of 1973. At least then the government could take economizing measures, streamlining operations, severely rationing fuel consumption. All those steps allowed Yawata’s operations to continue unabated.

“But today those measures are still in effect, and because the worldwide market has shrunk so significantly, Yawata’s work force has dropped from sixty-one thousand in 1969 to less than twenty-four thousand today. Three of Nippon Steel’s blast furnaces are currently idle and a number of their subsidiary plants have closed down.

“The American steel industry would, I think, be delighted to return to the seventy percent capacity Yawata is currently running at. But Japan is simply not geared for such reductions. And what can you do? In America Bethlehem can lay off their workers; in your country your political and social structure does not allow you to fire your employees.”

Liu paused here as if he expected Nangi to make some kind of comment. When he did not, Liu seemed slightly put out and his tone when he spoke again was rather more sharp. “The end result of this little talk,” he said crisply, “is that your keiretsu, like most others, is currently going through an organizational upheaval. And that, as we both know, takes capital. With cash flow weakened you have been dipping rather heavily into your reserves.”

“We are quite solid.”

“Solid perhaps.” Liu shrugged. “But I am doubtful that you have enough reserves now to save the All-Asia Bank.”

If he is going to offer me aid from the other side I shall have to strike him across his head with my stick, Nangi thought.

“What do the Communists want with the All-Asia Bank?”

“Oh, we don’t want any part of it,” Liu said conversationally. “Rather, we wish a piece of your keiretsu.”

Nangi, despite having extended all his feelers for clues, was thunderstruck.

“Oh, we’re willing to pay a high premium for the privilege,” Liu said into the silence, privately hating the necessity for observing the niceties of conversation among equals just as if he were not face to face with a barbarian. “An extremely high premium. It is clear that the keiretsu needs to be underwritten; we will provide the new infusion of capital.”

“I’m not interested,” Nangi said, almost strangling on his hatred for this man and all he stood for.

“Please be kind enough to allow me to complete my offer before hastily setting it aside,” Liu forced his lips into the configuration of a smile. Well, he thought, what can you expect from the Japanese. They do not have our long centuries of breeding; they merely appropriated from our culture that which they required in order to raise themselves up from the level of the slavering beast. But, oh, Buddha, they have not come far!

“Our offer is this,” he said. “You relinquish to’ us one-third interest in your keiretsu and we will deliver to you, divided into six semi-yearly payments, the sum of five hundred million dollars.”

At first Nangi was not at all certain that he had heard correctly. But, staring into that long Manchu face, he had no doubts. Five hundred million dollars! His mind immediately embraced all the things made possible by such an incredible infusion of capital. My God, he thought wildly, we could leap to the top if we are careful and courageous and, yes, just a bit lucky.

This was much more money than he could ever hope to get out of Tomkin Industries should their merger go through. It was more capital than he could hope to get from any other source. He was absolutely certain Liu knew this. Too, only the Chinese could come up with enough ready capital to see the All-Asia through the immediate crisis of the bank run. That above all else must be his primary concern. If the All-Asia went he knew the entire keiretsu would soon follow. Tenchi had put him in a delicate and severely undercapitalized position. Anthony Chin’s treachery might be the final straw that broke the whole business empire apart. For that Nangi would curse him and all his progeny to the end of his days.

But Nangi had to ask himself what the Chinese really wanted out of this deal. They did not easily part with such tremendous amounts of money. Profits, yes. But they could get profits in a number of different areas and with a much smaller outlay. Nangi’s mind raced to find the answer to a question he knew Liu would never willingly provide him with. But there were other answers which the Chinese would have to give him and perhaps if he asked the right questions Liu would give him the solution without knowing it.

“Tell me, Mr. Liu,” he said now, “what do your people propose to do with your one-third interest?”

“Do?” he said, shifting in his chaise. “I do not follow you.”

The young Chinese girl had been joined by another and Nangi was hard put to discern which one was wearing the skimpier suit. A wicker basket now sat between them, a treasure chest on the sand from which one took a bottle of wine, pouring them both half tumblers of the pale gold liquid. As they lay back on their blankets he could see the soft, succulent swells of their breasts.

“It’s quite simple,” Nangi said without taking his eyes off the girls; they were a good deal more pleasant to look at than the man reclining beside him. “Before I even consider allowing an outside, er, firm access to the keiretsuno matter the priceI need to know what it intends to do with its investment.”

“Why, make money, of course,” Liu said. “What other possible reason could we have?”

Nangi smiled thinly as he spread his hands. “You may be able to understand my caution. I have had little contact with members of…your firm.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Liu said a bit more amiably; he had begun to sense a thaw. “I would suspect your own motives if I did not detect your caution. This is, after all, not the sort of business deal one puts together every day. In some ways we are a very young country, Mr. Nangi. The world outside the Divine Kingdom is new to us. Very simply put, there are those currently in power in Peking who wish to probe the beginnings of an Oriental Alliance. They feel a business partnershipstrictly businessis a sensible way in which to, er, get the ball rolling.”

As if on cue, the two Chinese girls were packing up their belongings. The sun seemed very hot even here in the protection of the verandawhile they talked all the ice had melted in the pitcher of teaand the dazzle of the water was blinding, like strips of endless gold.

“Though this is an extraordinary opportunity,” Liu continued as he mopped his forehead with a handkerchief, “time is of the essence and once you leave China”he shrugged”I fear it will no longer obtain.”

“Surely you cannot expect me to make such a monumental judgment concerning my keiretsu in the blink of an eye?” Nangi said, turning his head toward Liu and away from the girls, who were busy brushing sand from their sleek, oiled thighs.

“On the contrary, Mr. Nangi,” Liu said, tapping a long-nailed finger against a portion of his silk suit directly over his heart, “I expect nothing. Rather it is you who must dealand deal quickly with the All-Asia’s unfortunate difficulties. Bank runs are like wildfire here, Mr. Nangi. Once the Chinese get something into their heads it is often an astoundingly short time before matters get out of control. The Royal Hong Kong Police are well aware of this peculiarity and thus seek to thwart congregating masses. A flame in and of itself is not a particularly dangerous element. But lit at a gas station, well…” Liu’s hands spread.

“So you may take all the time you wish, Mr. Nangi. Please do not feel any pressure from this quarter to come to a decision.” He reached into an inside pocket of his jacket. “However, in a friendly effort, to, er, provide you with some assistance, I have taken the liberty of having the papers drawn up.”

“I see.” Nangi thought about the implications of this for quite some time.

Liu could not quite keep the smug smile off his face. “Despite some curious Western depictions we run quite a well-oiled machine.”

“Yes,” Nangi said, hating this man with a much more detached passion now, “I can see that.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Nangi. You will pardon me for saying so, but you do not see it at all.” Liu paused as the two Chinese girls, coming in off the beach, wiped their sandy feet on the lowest step of the veranda. His deep avian eyes studied the face of onethe tall one who had been on the beach when Nangi had first arrived as if his gaze could penetrate the shadows as well as the cascade of thick hair that fell across one shoulder. In a moment they were gone, stepping silently past the two men into the interior of the villa.

“We shall have dinner soon,” Liu said. “Local langoustes and garoupa, as well as braised sun bear paw, quite the delicacy here.” His attitude had altered somewhat at the approach of the women and Nangi struggled with that fleeting change, trying to divine its essence.

“But, back to the topic at hand,” Liu continued somewhat more briskly. “We are very well coordinated in Hong Kong; far better and more extensively than the British would dare consider.” His shoulders lifted and fell. “And why not? Hong Kong is our property, after all. The true Government of China has never recognized a treaty signed under duress, when a different age caused men to act dishonorably. We tolerate the British rule because it is useful to us. I would not deny how lucrative it is for us. That would be foolish.” Liu stood up abruptly. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and revealed a multipage document folded twice on itself. Carefully, he placed the document on the small table between them before continuing.