THE UGLY PRINCESS - PART 1

Of course I'd heard of Hasegawa-san long before we met.  Mother always said I
was a little pitcher with big ears and I think Kazeko-obachan had been
interested in him for about five years, maybe more, to judge from the clippings
scanned into her private file.  (Yes, I know it's not polite to hack other
people's private files, particularly when they're family and you love them, but
what's the point of having a skill if you don't use it?)

But I didn't meet him until the morning Mother let me start work, or as she put
it in her pep talk, "discharge my first serious social obligation".  I'd been
looking forward to it so much, I couldn't sleep for nights before.  Mother got
quite worried and said she wouldn't let me start at all unless I could
discipline myself to behave like an adult and not a silly child, but I knew she
would.  It's the Tradition.  We have to, because if we didn't, who would?

So on the morning after my sixteenth birthday I met Hasegawa-san.

The car took me right to the door of the block; Mother had made sure I had my
favourite of our regular drivers, Mikimoto-san, who's been with the Household
Office for ever.  I remember him driving me to the bunraku play when I was just
a little kid; even then, I knew about the Household Office, but not in any
detail, and not that he worked for us.  I only knew then that Mother had
another life, a work life, and that it was very important and must never, never
be discussed with anyone because our family, with our Tradition, prized
discretion above all.  Mikimoto-san came round the car to open the door for me,
and I knew his eyes would be twinkling behind his shades as he said "Now, my
dear young lady, I'll wait at the corner for you to avoid blocking the
entrance.  When you're ready to leave the apartment, bleep me, and by the time
you're out of the elevator I'll be waiting here for you again."

I nodded, grinning, too excited to speak.  He shook his head a little, as if he
was trying to clear his vision and said, "Oh, hime-sama, you are so very like
your mother!" Then he went back round to his door and I heard the car purr away
as I went in and pressed the elevator bell.

The elevator smelt.  I had to go to the fourteenth floor; on the tenth, a very
unsavoury-looking small boy got in and made a crude remark.  Inside I had
butterflies but I remembered by training, tilted my head as if I was looking at
him over my shades, and gave him one of the putdowns Mother had prescribed for
the situation.  "Remember, Nyan-chan," she had told me, "that if you look and
sound in command, you'll usually be in command."  It worked; he got out as soon
as he could, on the twelfth.  At the fourteenth a dirty grey metal sign with
obscenities scrawled on it in green paint told me to go right for 1420.  I
pressed another bell on the scruffy grey door.  Not even a voice entry system.
Mother told me I'd see how the other half lived.

Inside it was different, spotlessly clean and carefully, if a little fussily,
decorated.  English country has never been my style, all those flowers and
frills.  The big man in the dark suit who opened the door opened his mouth, and
then read my card and swallowed, bowing deeply, apologising that I'd have to
follow him because the hallway was too narrow for us to pass.  In a little room
at the end of the passage stood Hasegawa, flanked by a couple more suits and a
huge guy in shades and a Mohican, whom I knew was Gogol, one of his half-tamed
bloodhounds.  The suit who'd opened the door flashed my card at Hasegawa, who
raised an eyebrow and held out his hand.  Before the guy could drop the card
into his fingers I took it back and slipped it into my pocket.  "Commander
Hasegawa, my business is not with you but with Mrs. Okada.  If you'd give me a
few minutes with her, I hope I can resolve the little problem you've been
having to everyone's satisfaction."

He gave a short laugh.  "The Imperial Household Office is better informed than
I'd expect, given that they employ children!"  The suits sucked in their
breath; Gogol grinned.  "I didn't catch which division you were with, Miss -?"

"Children are usually open-minded and unafraid of new ideas, Commander.  Maybe
you should recruit a few.  Now, if you will excuse me."  I turned my back
firmly on him and stood between him and Mrs. Okada.  She was a plump little
woman, middle-aged, tear-stained, sitting on the sofa with another woman whose
hand rested on her arm.  For the first time the job became real to me.  So far
it has been a challenge, a problem, a game; suddenly it was a real thing, the
only thing that could bring any comfort to this little woman, as well as the
only thing that could prevent a very unpleasant situation getting worse.  I had
to make her trust me.  I had, Mother had told me, at most ten minutes to do
it.  Already, Gogol was on a portable comms unit, typing fast at the other side
of the little room.  I could feel Hasegawa's gaze boring into the back of my
skull.  Focus, girl, focus!  I gathered my whole being into a deep, formal bow,
and held it for a full five seconds before straightening up.  Now I had her
attention; and his, if it was possible, was even more rivetted.

Bowing again, I said carefully, in a low, clear voice and in the most formal
Japanese a woman of this class would be likely to know, "Mrs. Okada, the
Imperial Household Office presents its respects and its deepest apologies for
the behaviour of one of the Household towards your family.  The actions of
Prince Riuchi were quite inexcusable and we can do nothing but offer your our
humblest regrets and ask you to permit us to put matters right."

The woman's chin tembled.  "And how can that be?  Can you bring my husband back
to me?"  She paused, catching her breath.  "He was only a janitor.  Just a good
man.  How could a member of the Imperial Family act like that?"

"Prince Riuichi is mad, Mrs. Okada, and had taken drugs.  That is not an
excuse, but it is a reason."  A tiny pause, not enough to allow her to open her
mouth again; just enough to check I had her attention still.  "Mrs. Okada, I
have a proposal to make to you.  I speak with the full authority of the
Imperial Household Office."

"Not money!  I -"

The suits were shocked that she'd interrupt so august a personage as myself,
even if I was just a kid and she was old enough to be my grandmother; but I
understood.  For what her husband and the other six dead hostages had suffered
at the hands of our Imperial loony before he was taken, money would never be
enough.  Besides, the money was already in her bank account.  I'd seen Mother
make the transfers that morning, then hacked the BOJ computer to cover all
trace of the source.

I held up one hand in that brief, regal gesture Mother always used so well.
I'd been practising it in the mirror for years.  It never looked like when she
did it to me, but it seemed to work on Mrs. Okada.

"Mrs. Okada, I am not discussing money.  I am discussing the honour and dignity
of the Imperial family, which this terrible action of a madman has so gravely
stained.  I am asking you to allow us to wipe out the stain."

She said nothing for a moment, and I gave her time.  From the Household morning
update - my breakfast reading when on duty from now on! - I knew that the
police had been trying to persuade her against talking to the Press and making
a scandal, ever since they had driven her back her from the police morgue where
she'd identified the corpse of her husband, Kenjo Okada, a janitor in the local
high school, who had been unlucky enough to be in range when Riuchi decided he
wanted to make his life a little more interesting.  I tried to imagine what it
must have been like.  What had she asked the police?  What had she not dared to
ask, but imagined every minute since?  How must she feel about the structure of
privilege which had dictated that because her husband's kidnapper and murderer
came from a bloodline which had once, long before they ceased to do anything
useful, ruled Japan, he had been given time to torture and kill seven people
before they dared use gas to take him down.  I began to admire her, just for
the strength and courage to sit upright on the sofa and give consideration to
anything.

"What is it?" she said.  I came a little closer.

"Mrs. Okada, would you agree not to talk to the media providing we can
demonstrate to you that a fit and proper reckoning has been paid for the life
and death of your husband?"

She snorted.  "Life imprisonment?  No.  And he's Imperial.  The courts can't
kill him."

I held her eyes and spoke softly, very softly.  I felt Hasegawa's attention
grow more intense, but I knew he wouldn't overhear.  I'd been taught by masters
and the Voice was one of my skills.  I was talking to Mrs. Okada's mind more
than her ears, and I saw from her eyes that she heard me.

"But we can."

Then, quickly, "We deal with our own.  Give us twenty-four hours and I promise
you you will be satisfied.  If not, then you may of course do whatever seems
best to you, and I promise you that the police will not be permitted to
obstruct you."  My eyes were on hers, willing her; then she nodded.  I gave an
inward sigh and straightened.  "Thank you, Mrs. Okada.  You have the assurance
of the Imperial Household that what I say will come to pass."

I turned back to Hasegawa.  "Thank you for your co-operation, Commander.  I
won't detain you any longer.  Good day, gentlemen."  I was moving as I spoke,
my heels clicking briskly on the floor, and not a moment too soon; as my hand
closed on the latch and the front door swung back I heard Gogol say "Central
confirms authorisation by the Household Office for a visit to Mrs. Okada this
morning; nothing more, no further -"

After that it went just as expected.  I pressed my wrist bleep as I walked down
the corridor, fast, but not looking hurried; Mikimoto was in place, holding the
car door, as I came out of the building.  I gave him the sign for evasion
procedures, slid out of my expensive cashmere coat, to the back of which
Hasegawa had so unobtrusively attached a marker, and slid out the other door,
rolling on the road and staying low by the slowmoving car until we hit cover.
Mikimoto would dump the coat in a park after a scenic tour of Oedo.  Shoving my
shades in my pocket, rolling the legs of my denims down to cover the stockings,
ditching the shoes and slipping on the canvas flats I'd had in my belt pouch,
took seconds.  From the subway entrace I watched two suits in a plain black car
heading after the limo.  A glance up at the fourteenth floor revealed a figure
at the window of the Okada apartment; I adjusted for distance - Hasegawa.  Your
hound can track me, Commander, but our trails are covered.  And I've done my
job.

Time to get home, I thought, realising I'd be late for samisen practice if I
didn't move.  I must tell Kazeko-obachan I've seen you.

But I didn't get the chance to talk to her that night.  She drew the scarlet
bead for cleanup supervision.  Despite our attempts to modernise we still do
some things in an absurdly ritualistic way - though Mother says it's not
absurd, that the ritual is a way to distance ourselves from the terrible impact
of our actions.  In any case, when we have a cleanup, one of the senior
Mistresses of the Household supervises; they all draw beads from a Tang dynasty
pot, and the one who gets the scarlet bead gets the job.  She doesn't draw next
time, to make it fair - cleanups are nasty.  Kazeko-obachan only agrees to take
her turn at doing them because she feels she owes the Office her loyalty, even
though she chooses to live another way.  I admire her.  If I don't grow up like
Mother, my aunt Kazeko would be the next best role model.  But I've chosen to
follow Mother's way, which meant that I got the Household Office morning update
as well as the newsfeeds.  And the update, with its clinical, exact recounting
of the procedure in careful detail, was much, much worse.

"This morning", said the stately Oedo Shinbun, "Prince Riuchi no Chikitada no
Hosono no Fujimoto, fifty-eight in line to the Imperial Throne, was found dead
in an underground car park in the Oedo National Bank."

"MURDERER RIPPED TO SHREDS IN FRENZIED ATTACK!" screamed the Examiner in its
usual sensational fashion.

The update said exactly what the ladies of the Imperial Household Office had
done to Riuchi - not, as my mother later reminded me, from hatred, but from
love.  From love of our people, from love of the long tradition of the Imperial
line, and from love of justice, that rank and money can usually buy off.

We deal with our own.  Because nobody else dares, we deal with our own.

"Oh, dearest," said Mother, "I wish your first job could have been something
more pleasant.  Next time, I promise you, I'll try and assign you to something
nicer."

"But now you're my boss, not just my mother.  It's OK.  It was interesting.
And he deserved it, he was a total shit."  Mother raised an eyebrow, but let it
pass.  "Did it give Kazeko-obasama a migraine?"

"I'm afraid so.  Shall we drive over to see her this morning?  We could take
her some peaches from the garden.  And then we can talk to her about Commander
Hasegawa."

I gulped.  Mother could still surprise me.  Had I left anything on file about
Kazeko and her -

"You forget, dearest, I've known my sister since long before you were born.
No-one but you and I knows about her, ah, extracurricular activities down at
the library; but I need her help with Hasegawa."

"Why?  What are you planning?"

"Well, if I read the man right - and what you observed seems to confirm it -
he'll be intrigued, and he'll dig.  That was another reason I needed you to do
the Okada visit; it needed to be someone who'd pique his interest.  That's why
I wanted you to play it a little grande dame."  She smiled.  "So he'll be
investigating the Office.  And we're going to let him find out that there's
something else behind it.  I have a use for Juzo Hasegawa, and I need Kazeko's
data to plan exactly what to do."

"Her data?"

"You don't suppose she just kept the newsfeeds?  She'll have full biofeedback,
visual, aural and subliminals.  She is one of this family, dearest."  Mother
folded her napkin.  "Let's pick those peaches, shall we?  Then we can get into
spring kimono and make an event of it.""

"Mother, can I ask - what do you need him for?"

"I want him to open a Gate for me."