gotten on unusually well and had been as inseparable as brothers throughout the sea voyage. “But we may meet again in Japan,” he added. “I go back home once every four years.”
Taguchi extended his hand. “If we can’t meet then, let’s meet in an old folks’ home in the twenty-first century. I heard on the morning news that they’re close to a new wonder drug for cancer. Sounds like I’ll live to be a hundred after I retire.”
“Well then,” Yoshizumi said with a smile as he put out his hand. “Until the twenty-first century …”
They gripped one another’s hands firmly. Then Yoshizumi turned away and hurried off toward a helicopter that was lifting a container to its underbelly, its rear wheels already starting to rise off the ground a little. When its four wheels separated from the deck, Major Taguchi caught a glimpse of something white in its window. Yoshizumi was waving, that Meerschaum pipe in his hand. Taguchi waved back at him and then walked off toward his cabin, crossing the rear deck, which was as crowded as it had been during the preparation for departure.
Clouds were roiling up far beyond the Prince Olav coast. He could feel in his skin the start of a sudden drop in pressure as the cold became more severe. Before he entered his cabin, he looked back across the icy plain and saw above the station the brilliant flag of the Rising Sun flapping in strong beams of light from its lamps. From the cluster of white bubble-domes, he could see three snowmobiles approaching—burdened heavily with people who had come to see them off—going over puddle after puddle. When he listened closely to the voices barking and reverberating from the speakers on top of the vehicles, he could make out the melody of “Auld Lang Syne.” Major Taguchi grimaced slightly and returned to his cabin.
Shiretoko ’s steam whistle roared again, this time signaling the thirty-minute mark before she would put out to sea again.
3. Seven Degrees, Twenty-four Minutes East
It happened around the time that Shiretoko was setting out from the waters of Ongul Island, heading back through the packed ice along the trail it had broken earlier.
A night train emerged into Italy, having departed from France and traveled through the Mont Cenis Tunnel beneath the snow-ravaged Alps. The assistant driver saw the bright flash of an explosion in the northern mountains on the near side of Torino. Immediately, he used the onboard telephone to report it to the Torino police.
An investigation was made after the winds had died down the following day. The crash site was on an Alpine slope about thirty kilometers west of Torino. It was surmised that the airplane had been flying blind in the middle of the snowstorm, and because the wind had suddenly begun to blow from the southwest during the night, its pilot had misjudged his course and been blown northward, to finally crash in a difficult Alpine crossing. The blackened bodies of the passengers—three in number—were discovered in the wreckage of the cockpit. Two engines and various fragments were scattered across a kilometer of snowy slope, but the airframe itself had cleanly burned. From the few fragments of its body that remained, investigators learned that it had had a fully wooden airframe, and this caught the attention of one assistant inspector who had in the past had dealings with Interpol.
A request went out to all the nations of Europe for information regarding the downed airplane, but when no plane was found that matched its description and its nationality remained unknown, the incident began to draw suspicion. An information officer attached to NATO arrived, and it became apparent that the black paint on the fragments was made for confusing radar waves, which generated a buzz of interest among the spy and intelligence agencies of all the European nations.
Was this a spy surveillance craft, like the infamous U2? they wondered.
In the end, however, it became clear that they would
Taguchi extended his hand. “If we can’t meet then, let’s meet in an old folks’ home in the twenty-first century. I heard on the morning news that they’re close to a new wonder drug for cancer. Sounds like I’ll live to be a hundred after I retire.”
“Well then,” Yoshizumi said with a smile as he put out his hand. “Until the twenty-first century …”
They gripped one another’s hands firmly. Then Yoshizumi turned away and hurried off toward a helicopter that was lifting a container to its underbelly, its rear wheels already starting to rise off the ground a little. When its four wheels separated from the deck, Major Taguchi caught a glimpse of something white in its window. Yoshizumi was waving, that Meerschaum pipe in his hand. Taguchi waved back at him and then walked off toward his cabin, crossing the rear deck, which was as crowded as it had been during the preparation for departure.
Clouds were roiling up far beyond the Prince Olav coast. He could feel in his skin the start of a sudden drop in pressure as the cold became more severe. Before he entered his cabin, he looked back across the icy plain and saw above the station the brilliant flag of the Rising Sun flapping in strong beams of light from its lamps. From the cluster of white bubble-domes, he could see three snowmobiles approaching—burdened heavily with people who had come to see them off—going over puddle after puddle. When he listened closely to the voices barking and reverberating from the speakers on top of the vehicles, he could make out the melody of “Auld Lang Syne.” Major Taguchi grimaced slightly and returned to his cabin.
Shiretoko ’s steam whistle roared again, this time signaling the thirty-minute mark before she would put out to sea again.
3. Seven Degrees, Twenty-four Minutes East
It happened around the time that Shiretoko was setting out from the waters of Ongul Island, heading back through the packed ice along the trail it had broken earlier.
A night train emerged into Italy, having departed from France and traveled through the Mont Cenis Tunnel beneath the snow-ravaged Alps. The assistant driver saw the bright flash of an explosion in the northern mountains on the near side of Torino. Immediately, he used the onboard telephone to report it to the Torino police.
An investigation was made after the winds had died down the following day. The crash site was on an Alpine slope about thirty kilometers west of Torino. It was surmised that the airplane had been flying blind in the middle of the snowstorm, and because the wind had suddenly begun to blow from the southwest during the night, its pilot had misjudged his course and been blown northward, to finally crash in a difficult Alpine crossing. The blackened bodies of the passengers—three in number—were discovered in the wreckage of the cockpit. Two engines and various fragments were scattered across a kilometer of snowy slope, but the airframe itself had cleanly burned. From the few fragments of its body that remained, investigators learned that it had had a fully wooden airframe, and this caught the attention of one assistant inspector who had in the past had dealings with Interpol.
A request went out to all the nations of Europe for information regarding the downed airplane, but when no plane was found that matched its description and its nationality remained unknown, the incident began to draw suspicion. An information officer attached to NATO arrived, and it became apparent that the black paint on the fragments was made for confusing radar waves, which generated a buzz of interest among the spy and intelligence agencies of all the European nations.
Was this a spy surveillance craft, like the infamous U2? they wondered.
In the end, however, it became clear that they would
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