Christopher Golde
Through an object the eye will swell,
Burning so much the pure will fall.
The fields grown will then shrink,
As the prime of man succumbs to his rejected one.
Century x Quatrain 70 -Nostradamus
Date: 2nd June 1997 Location: Yokohama, Japan
Futuretronics was not just a company, it was an empire and Ieko Fujimo was the emperor for its over five thousand employees. Vast warehouses and offices stretched for acres throughout the port district of Yokohama and although Father Aldo Dominique had given his taxi driver the address written on a piece of paper, he had not realized that finding the location of the company was one thing, finding the office of Ieko Fujimo was a whole different proposition. He wandered aimlessly up and down warehouse lanes one after the other looking for some sign he could understand or a person who could understand him. After about thirty minutes, he finally came to a large modern building complex that he thought could pass for the main office.
After entering through the double automatic doors, at what seemed like the front of the building, he was confronted by a huge information board, all in Japanese. As he stared hopelessly at the meaningless symbols on the board, a number of people passed but ignored him completely. Not far from the entrance he could see rows of lifts that many of the silent passers were entering. These would obviously take him to the upper reaches of the building and since he could not see any type of reception where he might ask for directions, he decided to try the lifts.
Entering the first lift that opened, he decided to apply some Japanese logic to his dilemma; so assuming that the building would be designed in much the same order as the structure of Japanese society, it would follow that Fujimo’s office would be on the very highest floor. The floor buttons indicated that the highest was the thirty-third floor, so that was the button he pressed. The five other people in the lift turned and looked at him astonished, then all bowed their heads, a good indication that he had guessed correctly.
By the time the lift had reached the twenty-eighth floor, he was alone and was feeling the building anticipation. He began again to ponder which would be the best way to approach the interview with Fujimo. He had been going over his options all the previous night but was still no closer to a decision minutes before they would meet. Should he be bold and direct to the point, or should he continue with the pretence of representing the European Economic Commission, and hope that the ensuing conversation would bring some enlightenment.
His suit was magnificent lightweight Italian wool and his soft loose-cut cotton shirt had kept him cool in the stifling humidity outside. He wore a very expensive looking pair of gold-rimmed designer glasses and carried with him a tan coloured slimline briefcase. It was all part of his front as a technical adviser to the EEC sent to negotiate contracts with Futuretronics worth billions of dollars. His credentials and references could not be faulted, as they had been provided by their man in the commission under instructions from the Vatican itself.
As the elevator door slid open, a voice in Japanese announced the floor. He alighted and found himself standing in an enormous hallway lined with life-size statues of Japanese warriors in full battle dress. From what he knew of Japanese history, each one seemed to represent a different period of the countries long militaristic past. At the far end of this giant intimidating hallway was a desk, and behind it, on the wall, was an enormous ten-foot-high dragon with seven heads. In gold letters around the centre of the semicircular desk was the word ‘Futuretronics’ and he was now fairly confident this was where he would find Ieko Fujimo.
He walked briskly towards the desk at the end of the hall and as he got closer, he could see a young woman seated behind it. She looked up and stared at him as he approached. When he was within five steps of her, she immediately stood and bowed so low it gave the appearance that she was kissing the desktop. Aldo stopped at this and waited what seemed like a long count to ten and when she finally straightened, he bowed curtly in an attempt to return her compliment.
“My name is Aldo Dominique of the European Economic Commission and I have an appointment to see Mr Ieko Fujimo.”
The woman remained standing and looked down at a monitor in front of her on the desk. When she looked back at him the young priest noted that she was a very attractive young woman with short black hair and a very pale cosmetically prepared face.
“Mr Dominique, would you please follow me,” she said, as she turned and walked to the side of the desk without showing any facial expressions.
He followed her to an opening at the side of the giant dragon mural and through that, they entered into another smaller room, with very modern furniture and a number of desks with computer monitors mounted on them. At each desk, was seated a young woman busily at work and as he followed his guide past them towards the rear of the room, not one of them even bothered to look up from the work they were doing. The only noise in the room, apart from their footsteps on the polished wooden floor, was the tapping of the keyboards on each of the desks.
From the rear of this room, a young man attired in a very smart looking designer suit and tie, was already approaching. He bowed deeply as he came to face them. At this, the woman seemed to disappear off to the side and the new man assumed Aldo’s complete attention. The priest returned the bow towards the young man before he spoke.
“Mr Dominique, I am Natico Matsumi, personal assistant to Mr Fujimo,” he spoke in perfect English, “welcome to Futuretronics, Mr Fujimo is expecting you, please follow me.”
Aldo turned to thank the girl but found she had already disappeared. He turned back to the assistant, who was still standing patiently waiting, and they then proceeded toward the far end of that room and a pair of large sliding doors. The doors automatically opened as Matsumi approached and then he turned to Aldo inviting him to enter first. As Dominique entered this room he heard the doors sliding closed behind him and glanced back in time to see them close. By the time he had looked back around into the office, he found himself alone again.
‘These people move incredibly fast,’ he mused, ‘I can’t keep up with them.’
He looked around this room, noticing that the furniture here was what he considered to be a more traditional Japanese style. At the centre, was a low short table surrounded by four tatami mats and on the table was an ikebana traditional flower arrangement. At the rear of the room, almost against the wall, was an intricately carved black marble desk, with two slimline computer screens and a large blank writing pad, but nothing else.
Hanging on the walls of this room, were seven, huge, framed pictures, of typically Japanese style dragons, and although, all the paintings seemed to be painted by the same artist, each dragon was a different colour and each one depicted a different pose. The only other animal in any of these pictures was a winged horse. This picture depicted the poor hapless mystical equine under attack by a much larger black dragon, as blood streamed from a gaping wound on its chest.
There were no windows in this room and star-shaped lights hung from the extra high ceilings. The wall at the opposite end of the room to where he had entered, was made of what appeared to be black glass, and at the dead centre of this was a glass door.
Seated behind the black marble desk, on a high back leather chair, was a young distinguished-looking Japanese man. As Dominique took a few more steps into the room, the young man stood circumnavigated the desk and came towards the priest. As he approached, he stopped then bowed slightly before extending his right arm and speaking with an astonishingly perfect English accent.
“Mr Dominique, I am Ieko Fujimo, I welcome you to Futuretronics.”
Aldo took his hand gently and returned the gesture, bowing slightly and saying.
“Mr Fujimo, it is an honour to meet you, I am Aldo Dominique.”
As if from nowhere, Fujimo presented the priest with a business card held in both hands. As part of the accepted Japanese protocol, Aldo received the card also with both of his hands and read the card carefully. He then reached into his pocket and produced his own, which he then presented to Fujimo in the same manner.
Fujimo accepted the card and also read it in full. Once satisfied with what he read, Fujimo motioned for his guest to sit, not at the low table, but on a black leather lounge at the opposite side of the room.
“Please, Mr Dominique, have a seat over here where you will be comfortable. Can I get you a refreshment, or perhaps a tea?”
“Yes thank you, green tea would be nice.”
At that, Fujimo made no attempt to leave or summon anyone, but instead, walked over to the black leather lounge and seated himself opposite to Aldo. Within seconds of them sitting down, a girl appeared through the black glass door with a tray, balancing an ornately decorated teapot and two small handle-less cups. She wore a traditional Japanese kimono and glided expertly across the room on what looked like very awkward wooden sandals. Coming up to the table between them, she then dropped to a crouch and placed the cups down gently either side and then proceeded to pour the tea, without so much as spilling a single drop. The tea steamed in front of them from the small cups and the girl disappeared as silently as she had appeared, back through the glass door.
Fujimo made no attempt to take his tea and Aldo waited, allowing his host to make the first move.
“Mr Dominique, Futuretronics welcomes business from the European Economic Commission, so how can I be of service to you?”
“The EEC, Mr Fujimo, will be updating its entire computing systems next year and I have come here to meet you first hand as part of the process of deciding which company will win the contracts of supplying both software and hardware. I should of course first ask you if your company would be interested in fulfilling any part of this contract and if so, why we should choose your company to do so?”
He looked up at Fujimo, giving him the opportunity to reply.
“Mr Dominique, Futuretronics is the largest and most advanced computer hardware manufacturer in the world and we would welcome the opportunity to be part of such an important and challenging upgrade.”
“While you are here, I would welcome you to visit all aspects of our Japanese operation and to examine our most advanced technical developments. We have also a close alliance with Macram, who as you will be no doubt be aware, is the largest software developer in the world and between our two companies, there is no job too large, or too difficult. Our superior product, important strategic liaisons and commitment to the future, will guarantee the EEC of the most reliable and advanced systems available anywhere in the world, for a long time to come.”
“We are very aware of your company’s superiority in hardware and I will be most interested to have a look at your operation while I am here in Japan.”
At this, Fujimo smiled then put his hands together in front of him and bowed his head slightly. He then invited his guest to take tea and then with both hands raised his tea close to his lips, paused momentarily, before sipping. Aldo respectfully followed the procedure of his host and both men sat silently for some time enjoying the ancient ritual.
Once finished with their tea, Aldo reached for his briefcase and removed some folders. He placed one of these on the glass top table next to his teacup. On the front of the folder were gilded letters saying ‘European Economic Commission Computer Systems Development Report’.
“This is part of my report to the commission on my recommendations and it includes our technical and logistical requirements for the next ten years.”
Fujimo looked down at the report, as the priest continued with his pretence.
“When my report is complete, it will also include background on each company and their management. This is also important in our decision-making process, as we deal in sensitive issues on a global scale and we must not only have the right equipment, we must also have the right people developing and controlling these systems.”
Fujimo looked at him with a blank stare and then said coolly.
“Perhaps, we should have our tea in a more traditional style, since I sense you will want more from me than just my words, Mr Dominique.”
At that, Fujimo stood and gestured towards the lower table and the tatami mats on the other side of the room. Dominique also stood and as he did so, the girl appeared from the glass door, swiftly walking to the lounge, taking up the teapot and cups on to her tray and gliding across the room to the traditional setting. There, she again lowered herself, before putting down the cups and pouring fresh tea, disappearing once again whence she had come.
The two men walked over to the lower table. At the edge of the tatami mat, Fujimo removed his slippers and waited patiently as his guest did the same with his shoes. They then knelt down either side of the table, on the straw mats. Fujimo lifted his cup to his mouth with both hands and made a slight slurping sound, as he sipped the tea, before sitting in quiet contemplation, staring down at the table. Dominique did exactly the same and after some moments of silence, the Japanese executive looked at his guest and smiled.
“You have surprisingly good manners for a Gaijin Dominique San; this is obviously not your first visit to Japan?”
Aldo, taking this as a compliment, replied.
` “I have visited your country on a number of occasions in the course of my work. I have noticed your excellent English Fujimo San; you too must have spent time in the west perhaps?”
“I was born and educated in Australia, but my parents maintained their traditions at our home and I have spent most of my adult life in Japan.”
This was a period of trust-building for both men, a customary part of Japanese business and always over tea. The tea-drinking would promote patience and awareness, before any serious business could begin, or before any deep commitment could exist between the two men. Dominique knew and understood that these formalities would need to be endured before any type of understanding or bond could be forged.
“I have been to Australia on some occasions, and it too is a wonderful country. Do your parents still live there,” Aldo asked?
At that question, Aldo sensed a flinch in the exterior armour of his host, but nothing too obvious.
“My parents passed away when I was only a teenager, after that, I finished my schooling and returned to Japan, where I was raised by my uncle.”
“It was your uncle that introduced you to this business,” the priest said, manoeuvring to get to the questions he wanted to ask?
“Yes, my uncle was the founder of Futuretronics,”
Replied Fujimo openly.
They both again, took a moment to sip their tea, before Aldo continued.
“Futuretronics also has a base in Australia does it not; in fact was that not where it all started?”
Ieko was beginning to look at the priest with a bit more wariness.
“Yes, that is true,” he replied, then paused, “my uncle had property investments in Australia and I had many contacts there as well, plus we had good incentives from the Australian Government. We still have a large manufacturing plant and a regional sales office there.”
“Is your uncle still involved in the company,” the priest asked, his questions obviously becoming more intrusive?
“My uncle, Dominique San, is not involved in the day to day running of the company anymore,” replied Fujimo curtly.
It was obvious he was not enjoying this line of question, so Aldo thought he should change track somewhat.
“I noticed the seven-headed dragon at the reception, is that an insignia for your company or your family, or does it hold some other significance?”
‘Not necessarily a softer approach,’ he thought.
Fujimo looked deep into the young priest’s eyes. Aldo could almost feel a searing heat in his brain, with the intensity of the stare.
“The seven-headed dragon, Dominique San, is my family icon and represents our patron. The seven heads represent seven generations of our family’s dynasty. This is most unusual questioning Dominique San, for a technical representative of the EEC. Do I detect a personal interest, or are you just making chit-chat,” the Japanese industrialist asked, somewhat sarcastically?
Aldo detected not only a sarcastic element in this last comment but also the threatening undertones of someone who was uncomfortable with the intrusive nature of the questions.
“The EEC, Fujimo San, must, of course, be cautious of who it gives such an important contract to,” Aldo said, in defence, “in my report, I must also include the origins and foundations of each tender. I apologize if my questions are too personal, but it is absolutely necessary.”
Ieko Fujimo firmed his steely stare.
“Futuretronics is a company of enormous credibility, both here in Japan, and around the world, I think our reputation speaks for itself and I see no reason to drag my family history into your report. “
“Where is your uncle now, Fujimo San,” Aldo boldly persisted with his questions, even though he clearly knew this would irritate Fujimo?
“I think we are finished Mr Dominique,” Fujimo said, standing immediately. The priest remained seated and continued.
“Is it true Fujimo San, that your uncle is Haitaco Namura, the cult leader now in prison?”
Fujimo glared at him now.
“I would request now that you leave, this interview is finished and I am a busy man. Write in your report what you will, but be warned Mr Dominique, putting your nose where it does not belong in Japanese history, can have dire consequences for you or anyone else for that matter.”
“Are you threatening me Mr Fujimo,” Aldo said, as he stood and attempted to show some strength in his tone?
“Merely a warning Mr Dominique, you do not know who you might offend, we Japanese are very defensive of our family honour,” Fujimo replied, now seeming to curb his anger with cautious restraint, “now this interview is over and my assistant will show you the way out.”
At that, Fujimo turned and left through the glass door, without another word. The priest turned and behind him stood Natico Matsumi, Fujimo’s personal assistant, who had somehow materialized without a sound.
“Mr Dominique, please follow me,” the assistant said still, with a polite manner.
Not another word was said, and they passed again through the outer office that was now devoid of any workers and then to the giant entrance hall. Now even the receptionist at the front desk was gone, and Matsumi escorted him all the way to the lift, which was open and waiting. Once in the lift, Aldo turned and with a slight bow from Matsumi, the lift doors glided closed and he felt the compartment begin to descend.
Once he was out of the Futuretronics complex, he hailed a cab and decided to find somewhere to get something to eat. He needed to have a good think about what his next move should be. Once the cab was back in the main shopping district of Yokohama, he asked the driver to pull over, and after paying him with a generous tip included, he began to weave his way through the crowded street. It was not long before he spotted a small sushi bar a few doors up the street, and headed in that direction.
He did not notice the black urban recreational vehicle that had been following the cab since it left the Futuretronics complex. The ominous-looking car reversed into a small laneway opposite the sushi bar, and sat quietly, its occupants watching the sushi bar like hunters waiting for prey.
The priest ordered a sushi platter and green tea then sat looking at the other patrons and occasionally out into the street at the passing traffic. He tried to think clearly at what had just transpired in the office of Ieko Fujimo. There was no doubt that there was something very strange about Fujimo, and gauging by his reaction to the family questions, he had something to hide, but was it what the priest wanted?
The interview had not gone exactly to plan, and he felt he had missed the chance to find out more by misjudging how Fujimo would react to questions about his uncle. He cursed to himself that he should have considered that there would be a lot of family shame involved. The one important thing he had noticed was Fujimo’s presence, it was overpowering as if it sucked the very life source out of you just with a stare. He had noticed a strange feeling come over him the minute he had entered Fujimo’s presence; it was like looking into a distorted mirror and seeing everything you ever hated about yourself.
From his research, he had observed that the intense feelings of love, or passionate hatred people experienced when dealing with many of the more enigmatic characters in history, were not only caused by what the individual would represent, but also by what one would feel when in their presence. For what would seem to be no reason at all, these people would inspire intense devotion in their following, or suffer the bane of passionate hatred within their critics, there was never a middle ground. His own theory for this phenomenon was that these individuals were born with an unusual and more intense aura that had the characteristic of reflecting the soul of someone in their presence. Hence, the uncomfortable, or the pleasant, feelings in their presence. Either, one would have feelings of complete devotion, or a desire to destroy the person and all they represented.
It was his belief, that these supposedly charismatic figures, generally lacked their own individuality or even their own personal character, and that they tended to reflect humanity in either all its glorious beauty or alternatively, all it’s complete and utter ugliness.
Dominique finished his lunch and left the sushi bar, still pondering on his mixed thoughts. The staff in the bar yelled in chorus ‘sumimasen’, which roughly translated to English, was their thanks for his patronage. One even grabbed his hand to shake it as he got to the door, but deep in thought, he hardly noticed. As he stepped out into the sunlight, something bright flashed in his eyes blinding him. He assumed it must have been the sun flashing off a passing vehicle, and as a matter of reflex, he covered his eyes with his hand.
As he touched one of his eyes with the back of his hand, he felt a blinding pain penetrate his eyeball. With one eye closed, and the other still blinded by the light, he staggered towards the edge of the narrow footpath, in the direction of two parked vehicles. He felt a helping hand grab his arm and guide him to the edge of the path and now he found himself standing between two stationary vehicles on the edge of the roadway.
He attempted to open his eye but the blinding pain intensified and again he involuntarily covered both of his eye sockets with his hands. This immediately caused the pain to spread to the other eye and he groaned with frustration as he now found that he had lost his vision almost completely. Confused by this almost total blindness and unsure where he actually was, he began to feel about him with his hands and staggered slightly as his leg kicked into something hard. He tried again to open his eyes but the blinding light and pain caused him to shut them immediately, even tighter.
He felt something push from behind, and believing that he was being guided to safety, he began to stumble in the direction he was being directed. He kicked out with his feet looking for the sidewalk, but stumbled, then staggered, onto the busy roadway that passed the sushi bar.
As the tall dark figure, in the beautiful Italian suit, emerged from between the parked cars on to the busy Yokohama street, a silver Toyota sedan slammed on its brakes, causing an eruption of smoke and sound form its suddenly stationary wheels. A woman nearby on the pathway screamed, and the vehicle, wheels no longer rotating, continued to slide towards the tall figure now in its path.
The impact against the pedestrian’s leg’s, disintegrated the bone into a thousand fragments, as muscle pulverized into mush. Aldo’s right shoulder smashed onto the hood of the still-moving car, dislodging muscle and skin tissue, as the sharp edge of a broken bone speared out through the beautiful fabric of the expensive suit. As his head of dark hair met the windscreen, pushing it inwards towards the driver, the outer layer of the Perspex coated shield shattered, and a spray of brain and blood fountained into the air. Now the priest’s unseeing eyes opened and fully accepted the bright glare of the sun above without the sense of pain.
Death was as sudden as death could be, yet as it happened, thoughts of family and life cascaded in slow motion through his mind, as his limp body landed awkwardly on the side of the busy Japanese street. The last thing he saw was Julie Pierce, and he kissed her gently, and said goodbye, as he wiped a tear from her eye.
“Don’t be sad, we’ll be together soon.”
In reality, it was what his mind remembered doing the last time he said goodbye to her, but now the only reality he knew was her lips, her touch, and her tear.
“Goodbye, princess.”
There were no thoughts of dragons, or beasts; nor heaven, nor hell. There was no pain or regret; just peace and quiet, and a kiss that seemed to endure and last until he was no more.
His body lay on the roadway, now motionless. A crowd was gathering and the driver of the silver sedan was standing there looking with shock at the obscenely twisted and broken body on the black bitumen. A police car pulled up adjacent the stationary car, its lights flashing, and two uniformed men alighted.
Across the road, a black, urban recreational vehicle, pulled slowly out of a small alleyway and drove off in the direction it had originally come from. The passenger turned off a small laser that had been used to blind the priest and put it into the glove compartment.
Chapter thirty one
The Dragon