Second Skin (33 page)

‘What nonsense is this?’ Ise Ikuzo said. He was a beefy man on Mick’s immediate right, the head of a steel and metallurgy conglomerate with shadowy ties to the Yakuza – the Shikei clan, if Mick’s sources of information were accurate. ‘You told us the first course was from China. It was sweet enough to be Chinese!’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Mick said, his smile widening. ‘Our appetizer consisted of Imperial bees sautéed in their own honey and liquor. Were they not delicious?’

‘Indeed,’ Asada said, nodding. ‘It is rare for a Westerner such as yourself to have such sophisticated taste in food. I, for one, had expected French fries and Bigu Makus for dinner.’

There was general laughter around the table and a nodding of heads. Of course, they had liked the Imperial Chinese bees. That was to be expected, Mick thought.

‘And what about the main course?’ Ikuzo asked.

‘Was that not also to your liking, Ikuzo-san?’ Asada asked from across the table. ‘Most unusual flavor, do you not agree?’

Ikuzo shrugged. ‘I have been to Venice. I have tasted their
fegato
specialty.’

‘Ah, yes, liver cooked in the Venetian manner,’ Mick said. ‘But
what
liver!’ He looked around the table at each man. ‘We all remember the late Rodney Kurtz. So sad about him.’ He gestured to the empty seat. ‘In his memory, we have kept a place for him.’ His voice was building again in that charismatic way. ‘And in memory of his attempt to subvert Denwa Partners to serve his own ends, it is
his
liver we have just eaten.’

Mick, having delivered his coup de théâtre with the skill of a surgeon, stood back and watched the ensuing uproar with delight.

‘This is outrageous! A monstrous jest!’ Ikuzo shouted, and Asada looked blood-choked, as if he were about to be sick on the spot. He was not alone. All twelve were on their feet, shouting, shaking fists, pale as ghosts. Amid this chaos, Machida sat still as a statue, neither responding to angry queries nor looking at his colleagues.

At last, Machida pushed his chair back and stood with all the rest. ‘It is no jest.’ His commanding voice cut through the babble. ‘And I suggest we listen to what Mr Leonforte has to say.’

In ones and twos, the men sat back down. Most pushed their plates away into the center of the table, some would not even look at them.

‘Now we are all one!’ Mick cried as all the heads in the room turned his way. ‘Now we have supped on Power and are bound together in a modern-day version of a blood oath!’ He took up a forkful of the dark stew and, shoving it in his mouth, chewed happily. Swallowing, he said, ‘We have devoured our enemy whole. Now we must band together to use Denwa Partners in the manner for which it is ideally suited.’

Ikuzo threw down his fork with a harsh clatter. ‘I’ll have none of this fairy tale! I have been deceived and made a fool of.’ He jumped up. ‘You have abused your responsibilities as a host. I have no obligation to you.’

‘I think it would be best if you stayed long enough to hear me out,’ Mick said softly. ‘Then you will be free to leave.’

‘I am free to leave now!’ Ikuzo said, incensed. ‘Who are you to dictate terms to me? You are
iteki,
a foreigner with no influence over me.’

‘Ikuzo-san, it pains me to see us so at odds,’ Mick said. ‘Of course you are free to leave now if that is your preference.’

‘It is,’ Ikuzo said, puffing out his chest. He looked around the table, made his ritual bowing.

Mick waited until he was almost at the door when he said, ‘Ikuzo-san, I would appreciate it if you would answer one question.’

Ikuzo turned back to the room. ‘And what is that?’

‘You are a silent partner in Sterngold Associates, aren’t you?’

‘Why ask a question to which you obviously know the answer?’ Ikuzo snapped. ‘Sterngold was owned by Rodney Kurtz.’

‘Do you know that Mr Kurtz was working on squeezing you out of Sterngold
and
Denwa Partners?’

A look of consternation flickered across Ikuzo’s face. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Kurtz wanted you out as a partner so he agreed to swap your minority interest in Sterngold for half his share in Denwa. But you hadn’t made your last payment to him, so, technically, you’re in breach of your contract. In that light, Kurtz made certain arrangements in the event of his death – and that of his wife. Sterngold is now in the hands of Bates and Bates, an American law firm. According to Kurtz’s will,
all
of Sterngold’s interest in Denwa has been taken over by Worldtel, Inc., a shell corporation which I have just bought.’

‘What? But that’s impossible!’ Ikuzo sputtered. ‘He couldn’t have done that. He knew I was in a cash crunch. I met with him last week. He expressly told me I had six more weeks to pay him the rest of the money I owed him. The deal was all set.’

‘Guess what?’ Mick said, taking out the contracts and spreading them on the table. ‘He lied. You know what they said about Kurtz in Germany? Don’t stand downwind of him when he pisses.’ He watched as Ikuzo’s eyes were inexorably drawn to the contracts. ‘Well, what are you waiting for, Ikuzo-san? You are free to leave.’ He waited a beat. ‘Or you can return to the table and we can renegotiate your partnership in Denwa.’ He broadcast that winning smile again. ‘I assure you I am a more trustworthy partner than Kurtz ever was.’

He was aware of the entire room riveted on Ikuzo as he slowly made his way back to his seat and slipped silently into it. Mick graciously passed down the contracts to him.

Then Mick raised his voice. ‘Asada-san was quite correct in his lament. The good old days are gone, gentlemen; they sang themselves out in Mozart, as Friedrich Nietzsche would say. Or, in our case, in the shogun Iyeyasu Tokugawa. When the Meiji government stripped the samurai of their status and rank in the 1800s, they deprived Japan of its history – of its very soul.

‘Which is why the TransRim CyberNet is so vital to Japan’s future. Right now, you are a computer-illiterate society. Your children go through school without learning how to use the one tool that will bring them into the twenty-first century. Japanese need to learn to move all forms of information along the CyberNet superhighway like the Americans and the Europeans do. And this Japan will do in its own formidable way. It will do it because it is essential in order for Japan to compete effectively in the coming years.

‘The CyberNet is the first such worldwide superhighway in Japan – and therefore it will be adopted as the computer net of choice for the country as a whole. Further, with its digital video capabilities I can assure you it will have a monopoly on information transmission and dissemination for the foreseeable future.

‘Frankly, I’d like nothing better than to start my own CyberNet, but, as you all know, the TransRim vid-byte technology is proprietary – patented, locked up tight against theft.’

‘If any such competing net came on-line, we would sue its owners and win, bankrupting them,’ Asada-san said.

‘Precisely,’ Mick replied. ‘That is why I bought into Denwa Partners. The vid-byte technology is going to be worth billions and billions of dollars in the coming decades – not only from TransRim itself but from subsequent licensing deals that are sure to follow.’

He raised a forefinger. ‘But the fact is the CyberNet is not being utilized to its ultimate potential, which is why we are all here tonight.
Dissemination of information.
Think about that phrase for a moment. The CyberNet is going to be the single most influential tool by which people in Japan and in the entire Pacific Rim move information. But it can also be used to
influence
people, business deals, and the like. It is the next generation up from satellite TV. And it has a great advantage over satellite TV, which, we have seen, cannot pass with impunity across all national boundaries.’ Mick looked from face to face. ‘I need hardly remind you of the example of Rupert Murdoch’s Star TV, which had to stop beaming the BBC news broadcasts into China because of programs critical of the Chinese government’s civil rights position. The CyberNet will have no such problems because it is not transmitted in any conventional way. No one can regulate what is disseminated on a computer on-line service. We will become the architects – the gods, if you will – of our own information autobahn.’

He paused to allow the concept to sink in. ‘There will be no secrets from us; we will have control of communication, of commerce. Owning the system, we will be able to dictate the programming to the drones who log on. Imagine twenty-four-hour-a-day advertising that is masquerading as programming. If, for instance, we want to initiate a resurgence of the Liberal Democratic Party, we need only begin a daily forum on the CyberNet skewed toward LDP policies. Pounding them home day after day, night after night, will have its effect – and will effectively stifle anti-LDP sentiment in the media.’

He paused a moment to let that concept sink in, then leaned forward, like a figurehead into the wind. ‘Consider, as another example, that we want to know what our rivals are doing at Mitsui Heavy Industries or at the Bureau of Foreign Affairs or within the Metropolitan Police Department. Do you think that within twelve months any Japanese
keiretsu
or bureau will be able to conduct business without the CyberNet? Not if it wants to be globally competitive! Imagine it! You will have the control – no, much
more
than you have had in the past, than you are clinging to now with the old ways of bribery and extortion under attack by the police, under the scrutiny of the media and the public. With control of the CyberNet you can discard the old ways, which have become increasingly dangerous for you through repeated investigations by both the police and the media. The web which you have so effectively spread since the end of the war is outdated, a dinosaur that takes more time and effort than you can afford to give it in this day and age.’ He spread his arms wide. ‘It all comes to you – and
more,
much more – electronically; deal-making made simple, quick, efficient, and, best of all, absolutely untraceable.’

‘This is revolutionary thinking, without doubt. But inspiring as all this may seem, isn’t it impossible?’ Asada said. ‘With knowledge comes sophistication. Companies won’t begin to move their secret data along the CyberNet until they’re sure they can do it confidentially. Right now the CyberNet communication is not secure; anyone can read anyone else’s communications.’

‘Asada-san is as right as he is wrong.’ Like a magician, Mick opened his right hand. In the center of his palm was a tiny computer chip gleaming like platinum. ‘Gentlemen, allow me to present the Kyron Algorithm Lithium Chip. The KALC is a refined version of the US-designed Slipjack algorithm, a so-called unbreakable coding device that will make eavesdropping on the CyberNet impossible – or so we will prove to everyone. We will give the KALC to all the companies going on-line within the first six months. It will be a promotion, a way to induce them to use the CyberNet.’

A slow smile spread across Mick’s face. ‘What we
won’t
tell them is that the KALC can also
break
any code, no matter how complex. It is the ultimate eavesdropping device because it works for both audio
and
video encryption.’

From beneath the table, he drew out two electronic devices. He pointed to the one on his left. ‘Here is a machine that has recorded a conversation encrypted with the American Slipjack algorithm.’ He spoke the word ‘Play,’ and a spew of gibberish emanated from the recorder.

‘Can anyone tell me what was being said on the tape?’

Silence.

Mick looked up as he ran the tape back. ‘I have no doubt that any of you could take this tape and run it through your mainframes from now until the end of the year and you’d be no closer to decoding the Slipjack algorithm. It is, indeed, powerful.’

He then connected the machine on his right to the first one. ‘This machine contains the KALC. I will now run the tape through its circuit.’ He turned to the KALC-loaded recorder, spoke, ‘Play,’ to the machine on his left.

‘We have no such initiative on the boards at this time, Mr President.’

‘Then we should have.’

Mick watched intently as everyone around the table leaned forward as they recognized the slightly nasal accent of the president of the United States.

‘You tell Mitchelson at Commerce that we’ve got a policy gap and I don’t like it. The Japanese ought to be buying more rice from us. That’s the bottom line.’

‘Uh, Mitchelson’s going to want to know what kind of leeway he’s being given, sir.’

‘Any way Mitchelson wants to handle it is okay with me. We’ve gotten tough with the Japanese before and it works. I want them buying our rice. Got it?’

‘Absolutely, sir.’

Mick switched off the recorders. There was a kind of stunned silence in the room. ‘All we need do is incorporate this chip into the CyberNet matrix. It will allow us to key into any and all encoded data run on the CyberNet.’

At last, Morimoto, the head of MITI’s Industrial Policy Bureau, cleared his throat and said, ‘Sato International is the majority partner in the CyberNet.’ He looked around the room. ‘Like everyone here, I know Tanzan Nangi. He would not allow such a chip to be incorporated in the CyberNet. Even were we to go along with you, Nangi-san will not.’

‘Nangi-san is an old man,’ Mick said. ‘Furthermore, he’s been ill. His recent heart attack –’

‘We have been assured that Nangi-san’s illness is minor,’ Asada said.

‘Yes, and we will assure everyone that the KALC will make electronic eavesdropping impossible. Does that make it so?’ Mick allowed his words time to sink in. ‘Yes, yes, his heart attack was minor, so we have heard. But what if it was worse? What if Nangi-san’s abilities have been permanently impaired?’ Mick said carefully. ‘Would you want such a man leading Sato International?’

‘Do you know something we don’t?’ Asada asked.

Mick seemed to ponder a moment, a theatrical gesture underscoring what he was about to say. ‘He had his attack, what...?’

‘Six months ago,’ Morimoto said.

‘Is he back at his desk yet?’ Mick asked in all innocence.