Emmy And Me

Grant was well aware of my concerns with Emmy’s security at the concert venue, so when he requested Jack take Tiny’s place as Emmy’s visible bodyguard I agreed. After all, I still had Eddie and Nick, plus Tiny, of course. Emmy’s dad had brought a couple of serious-looking guys as well, so I felt that we were well armed enough for the meeting.

After Emmy and Angela left with the rest of the touring musicians we got our preparations ready for the meeting in three hours. I dressed in my best fitted suit, all the while wishing my anti-slash turtleneck looked better underneath my dress shirt, but it couldn’t be helped. I tucked the collar down as best I could and considered it good enough. I made myself a mental note to have a crew-neck shirt made for wearing a bit more discreetly and left it at that.

Of course all my guys looked sharp in their tailored suits, and they were all kevlared up underneath. No gloves, but that was a fairly minor loss of protection to better conceal the fact they were nearly knife-proof.

“Right,” I said, looking them over in our suite’s living area. “Here’s the thing. These Japanese Night Children are still in hiding, but you guys all know what to look for. Avoid confrontation, but make it damned clear that if anything does go down, you’re in it to win it. Feel free to stare them down as much as necessary, but do not draw first. We need to look prepared, but not belligerent.”

“We understand,” Eddie said, speaking for the rest.

“Alright,” I said. “Mr Lascaux brought a couple of his guys, and I want you, Eddie, and you, Nick, to pair up with them. Now, I think Mr Lascaux and I are on the same page as far as our preparations and things like that go, so it should work out, but if you encounter any resistance or anything from his guys, just let them do whatever but you stick to the plan. If you’re in sight of any of the locals, make it seem as if everything is going smoothly. Do not argue in front of anybody, got it? We need to look unified.”

Just then there was a knock on the door announcing the French contingent’s arrival. When Michael let them in, I was pleased to see they all were dressed nicely, too.

“Great, you guys are here,” I said. Looking at the two Lascaux bruisers, I asked if they spoke English, and both said that they did.

“Excellent. That’ll make communication that much easier. So, I want each of you to pair up with one of my guys,” I explained, pointing at Nick and Eddie. They looked to their boss for confirmation, and to my relief, he gave a little nod. “Right. You’re there to back each other up in case of a fight if that should happen. Honestly, I don’t expect it would, but better to be prepared. So, we need one pair in the kitchen. I’ve already made arrangements with the hotel, and they’ve agreed to let my ‘security’ keep a presence back there. Here’s the thing- this hotel has five restaurants, each with its own separate kitchen. To my best knowledge the locals won’t know which one we’ll be dining at, but they might have gotten that info. The restaurant manager has promised that only long-term staff will be in the kitchen tonight, but I want you to keep a really close eye out for Night Children in disguise as cooks. Remember, these people have a historical reputation as poisoners, among other things.”

“Bernard,” Mr Lascaux said. “That will be your job tonight.”

“Nick, you and Bernard will keep an eye on the kitchen, and when the food gets delivered to the dining room, one of you’ll stick with the waiters while the other keeps the kitchen staff under surveillance.” Turning to Eddie, I said, “Eddie, you and…”

“François,” Mr Lascaux supplied.

“You and François, you’ll stand guard outside the dining room. You’ll be the obvious security. Your job is to respond to anything if need arises, but otherwise just stand there and be intimidating.”

“Who will be in the dining room?” Mr Lascaux asked.

“You, me, Michael, Tiny, and him,” I said, pointing at the middle-aged Japanese guy Emmy’s dad had brought. “Obviously, he’s a non-combatant, and so is Michael, but that leaves you, me, and Tiny. Tiny won’t be seated at the table. He’ll stand back- an obvious heavy. This leaves you, me, Michael, and…”

“Mr Hara,” Emmy’s dad said to my unspoken question.

“…Mr Hara at the table. I’ve been told to expect four from the locals’ ruling council, plus the grandson of one of them, at the very least. They haven’t said if they’ll be bringing anybody else, but all this,” I said, gesturing at all our bruisers, “is on the assumption they will. Now, they’ll be in makeup, but we won’t. That will be the start of our, um, mind games, I guess. Remember, they had never seen any Night Children showing their faces in public before Emmy. So, us simply showing our faces establishes that we are above that sort of concern, right?” I asked.

“This makes sense,” Mr Lascaux agreed, nodding thoughtfully.

“So we make a show of being in charge, of having the situation here under control, while being, as they say, out and proud. This puts us in solid negotiating position before anything even starts,” I finished.

“My queen, what if they have day walker assistance?” Eddie asked.

“Well, we know they bribed some of the hotel staff to get our room number, right? So they haven’t given up their old ways of subterfuge. This means we can’t discount the possibility. But on the other hand, their very reclusive nature leads me to expect that they wouldn’t rely heavily on outsiders. I may be wrong, though, so stay sharp,” I answered.

Once I was certain everybody was on the same page, Nick and Bernard left to go down to the kitchen and Eddie and François went to wait for our guests in the lobby.

At this point, there was nothing for the rest of us to do but wait until we got word that the locals had arrived.

At a loss for what to talk about to kill the time, I pulled Stabby Jr from inside my sleeve to show to Emmy’s dad. “This was given to me by a man in Singapore,” I told him, handing the dagger over.

Unsheathing it to examine it closely, Mr Lascaux asked, “This is similar to the blade you use back in the States, is it not?”

“It’s a modern reproduction. Apparently these are issued to the Singaporean Special Forces for hand to hand combat,” I explained.

“The tip seems very delicate,” Mr Lascaux said, feeling the point with a fingertip. “You’ll have to be careful to avoid breaking it on a rib when you stab someone,” he said, sheathing it and handing it back. I glanced over and saw how Mr Hara’s eyes bugged out at the sight of the dagger and maybe even more at the casual conversation of being concerned about blade integrity when stabbing people.

“I had to have the tip reground on mine back home,” I admitted. “Just the tip broke off, and it was still plenty adequate for the job, but I needed it to look as good as possible, if you know what I mean.”

“These things are important,” Mr Lascaux agreed, pulling his own dagger from inside his jacket. “This is also a reproduction. I have the original- it has been in the family for almost six hundred years now, but the blade… Well, I wouldn’t trust it with my life, and neither did my grandfather. He had this made of better steels than they had in the Middle Ages.”

I took the proffered weapon, pulling it from the simple sheath. Or perhaps I should say ‘scabbard,’ since at nearly ten inches long, the blade almost counted as a short sword. That’s what it looked like, too- basically a really small Medieval sword. I tapped the point, which was slightly rounded down from the blade’s overall taper.

“It looks as if you’ve had the tip break off, too.”

“No, it was made like that,” Mr Lascaux said with a bit of a smile. “I’m not certain if the original had ever been longer, but this was made to the exact shape of the older blade.”

“I like it,” I said, handing it back. “I like that it has family history, too.”

“Yours does as well, if I understand correctly,” Mr Lascaux said, slipping his dagger back inside his jacket where it didn’t even show as a bulge. I had a momentary thought that I should visit the tailors in London and have them adjust the suits they were making me to hide my own dagger, but quickly dismissed it.

“Only three generations’ worth,” I said with a shrug. “Well, four, counting me.”

“Has it drawn blood for every owner?” Mr Lascaux asked.

“I’m pretty sure it has,” I replied.

“Then it has more than enough history for anybody,” he confirmed.

Another glance at Mr Hara showed that he was still wide-eyed by the conversation, probably wondering just what kind of psychos he was working for. “Well, wait until he finds out ninjas are real,” I thought with a little chuckle to myself.

“Arrived” came the text from Eddie, so we all stopped our chatter and immediately headed downstairs.

We waited at the entrance to the restaurant on the fourth floor- the one that served Japanese cuisine. I’d picked that one for two reasons- the first being that the food would be familiar to our guests, where the Italian or French cuisine in the two other possible restaurants might not be. The second was that the private dining room only had one way in or out, so keeping control of access was much easier.

Eddie led our guests, followed by five elders (one more than I’d expected, but that was fine), then Hayate Oshida, and two other men who looked to be their security. Last of all came François. I was pleased to see that Eddie and François didn’t look nervous at all.

“Gentlemen, lady,” (since one of the elders was a woman), "may I present to you Leah Farmer and Mr Lascaux, Queen of North America and King of Western Europe,” Eddie said with a little respectful flourish.

Hayate translated for them, and the five looked at us with interest. One of them stepped forward and tilted his head in a sort of mini bow. He spoke, and our Mr Hara translated for us.

“It is an honor to meet you. I am Ogawa Makoto, the speaker for the Council. These are four of my fellow elders,” Mr Hara translated.

No offer to shake hands was made by Mr Ogawa, and we were in no hurry to stick our hands out, either.

I signaled to the restaurant’s host that we were all there, and we followed him to the private dining room.

I was glad I’d specified a table big enough for ten, and the low table had been set with ten of the kneeling pillows. I gestured for our guests to sit down on the far side of the table, and we took our seats on the side towards the door, with our two translators sitting on either end. Tiny and one of the local security stood near the door at attention, with our other two guys and the second shinobi security guy outside the doors to the private room. I have no doubt it was causing speculation out in the restaurant at large, but that was fine by me. I’d told the hotel manager that it was a very, very important business meeting, and he’d seemed fine with that.

“Before we start,” I said to Mr Hara and Hayate, “please understand that this style of dining is not what we are accustomed to, so if we inadvertently do or say something that may break etiquette, please let us know. We don’t wish to offend accidentally.”

Both nodded, and when one of the elders asked Hayate what I’d said, Hayate explained. I glanced at Mr Hara and he nodded, signaling that the message was communicated well.

“This is really going to be a pain,” I thought to myself as we all just sort of looked at each other, not sure where to start. Thankfully the waiters arrived at that point to distribute menus. I’d specified they be the priceless versions and that I would settle the bill when the meeting was over, which seemed well within the manager’s comfort zone.

“Mr Oshida,” I said to Hayate. “I don’t know sakés at all, so please, whatever the elders suggest would be fine with us.”

He relayed the message, and the elders nodded and briefly discussed it, before giving the order to the waiters.

Once they’d gone. Mr Lascaux spoke. “When Mrs Farmer called me to tell me that she had encountered Night Children here in Japan, I was quite surprised. According to our best knowledge, there have been none of us in Asia in a thousand years. But yet here you are.”

After the translation, Mr Ogawa replied. “We had no idea people with our traits existed outside of Japan. When Emmy Lascaux came to our attention, we had no idea what to think.”

“My daughter seems to be very popular here,” Emmy’s dad said with a nod.

“She is very popular,” Mr Ogawa agreed, speaking directly to Mr Lascaux. “We saw her photos and her videos and didn’t know if she was one of us or not, so we sent Mr Oshida and his grandson to meet her here at her hotel, but instead they met Mrs Farmer and him,” he said, indicating Tiny. “She told our representatives that she was the one we would need to speak with, not your daughter.”

“This is correct. Mrs Farmer is the Queen of the Night Children in North America, while my daughter is the princess of our nation.”

“But she is not… one of us,” Mr Ogawa protested, indicating me.

“Yes, she is,” my father-in-law replied firmly.

“I am a queen among our people. I am the undisputed ruler of our people for an entire continent,” I said, laying my sheathed dagger on the table in front of me. “I will not be diminished merely because of the color of my skin,” I said, my voice cold. I looked each and every one of the elders in the eyes. “Do not make that mistake.”

That shut down conversation for a long moment, before the elders started arguing with each other. I slid my knife back into my sleeve, my metaphorical point having been made to my satisfaction.

The waiters arrived just then with the saké, effectively ending the discussion among the elders. Once they’d left, I poured a cup of saké for Mr Ogawa and another for Mr Lascaux, setting each cup in front of the recipients. Mr Ogawa took the carafe and poured for me, then one of the other elders, and so on until everyone had a cup in front of them.

I raised my cup and said “Kanpai,” probably horribly mispronouncing it, but whatever. I was a gaijin, after all.

We all took our first sip, and once the cups were back on the table, Mr Lascaux continued.

“There are seven nations of Night Children outside of Japan. I am the king and ruler of one of them. Mrs Farmer is the Queen and ruler of another. The remaining five nations all recognize her authority and station over her people,” he said. “There is no dispute that she is one of us.”

Grateful for his solidarity on the subject, I nodded but kept silent.

“Mrs Farmer, as the Queen of North America, asked me to attend. Our nations are very closely aligned.”

“And this is why I requested this meeting with your Council,” I said. “Now that we know you exist, I would like to extend our hand in friendship. We,” I said, indicating Mr Lascaux and myself, “believe that the time for hiding is past and we encourage you to join us in the light.”

“That is what you told Mr Oshida,” Mr Ogawa replied. “We have discussed this. We came here tonight to hear what you have to say.”

I was just about to launch into my pitch when the waiters came with our dinners. I had instructed our side to order the same as their side did to confuse any possible poisoners, but it was starting to look as if those concerns might not have been justified. Still, better safe than sorry.

Once the waiters had left, I poured another cup of saké for Mr Ogawa, then for Emmy’s dad. I raised my cup in a salute and took a sip. Everybody else at the table followed suit.

“The fundamental problem is technology,” I explained. “It has made it nearly impossible for us to stay hidden in developed countries, as I’m sure you have experienced. Soon it won’t be possible at all. This forces our hand. However, the reason we have stayed in the shadows for thousands of years is also fast disappearing. You have all seen Emmy on TV and in print. Mr Oshida and his grandson must have seen all the girls dressed and painted to look like Emmy outside the hotel when they came to visit, right? The ancient fears have no place in this new age of ours. You have seen my men. You see Mr Lascaux here. We no longer hide. We believe that you should join us. Throw off your history of persecution. It no longer has any relevance,” I concluded.

After a lot of discussion on the the other side of the table, Mr Ogawa spoke directly to me. “What would we have to gain? You say that we will not be able to hide much longer, and we have recognized that is true, but what does showing ourselves do for us?”

“Freedom,” I replied with a shrug. “Freedom from the fear that day walkers will discover your secret. Freedom from having to wear the makeup every time you go into the outside public.” After another sip of saké while my message was translated, I added, “And I could easily imagine it could be lucrative, too. If my suppositions are correct, you could use the shinobi mythology to attract tourism to your region, although that would mean that you would have to commit to being gawked at.”

This got a lot of discussion from the elders. I’d glanced at the two translators when I’d dropped the word ‘shinobi’, and got just the reactions I expected. Mr Hara looked surprised, and Hayate looked dismayed.

Mr Lascaux and I continued to eat while the elders argued among themselves. I have to say, Japanese is a great language for angry discussions.

Finally, Mr Ogawa asked what I meant by shinobi.

I shrugged. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me that your clans were not the shinobi. It looks obvious from my perspective.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“We have always lived in isolated areas. We have always done our business at night. We have always used disguises and stealth. These are the traits of Night Children, and of course, of the shinobi as well. I would be very surprised to hear that the myths of the ninja weren’t based on your clans’ histories,” I said.

“This is our history, yes,” Mr Ogawa admitted.

“Monetize it,” I said. “If you made a public announcement that yes, the shinobi were real and yes, they were your ancestors, it would draw unimaginable interest. You’ve seen how fascinated your fellow countrymen are by Emmy. Now just imagine if you said that yes, Emmy is a distant cousin of ours, and she convinced us the time was ripe to step into the light… It would make you all celebrities overnight.”

“We already do use our history to our financial advantage,” the lady elder said, speaking directly to me for the first time. “There is a certain amount of shinobi-related tourism in our region, and we have encouraged it.”

“Can you imagine how it would benefit your region- Iga province, right? If you came out and admitted it was true, and here you are?” I asked.

“Do you do this in America?” she asked. “Make yourselves the subject of curiosity?”

“No, but we don’t have that kind of romanticized history,” I said. “Our people have been living in the daylight for years, just doing ordinary jobs alongside everybody else. I would imagine that an announcement from you here in Japan would increase interest in us a bit, but…” I said with a shrug. “It wouldn’t change the way we do things at all.”

“Then why do you care what we do or don’t do?” Mr Oshida demanded. Apparently the speaker’s control of his side of the discussion was over.

“There is a bigger picture here,” I said, looking to Emmy’s dad for support. He gave a slight nod, and I said, “I’ll let Mr Lascaux explain.”

“Outside of Japan, we are not unified. As I mentioned, there are seven Night Children nations. In Mrs Farmer’s nation, her people are required to show themselves. They are not allowed to hide in the old ways. She demands that they live and work alongside day walkers, and they do. She rules over a young nation in a young continent, and they are not bound by ancient customs. In my nation, I have made it optional. I support those who wish to live in the daylight, but I do not require it. I am certain that eventually- within a generation, no more- all will live in the daylight.” After a sip of his saké, he continued. “However, some of the other nations are violently opposed to the idea that we must stop hiding. They are old, and stuck in the past. They hide, and tell themselves that the world is not changing around them.” After another pause to let the translators catch up, he said, “Your existence was a surprise to Mrs Farmer and to myself. None of the rest of the Night Children nations know of you. If we were to announce to the rest that you’re here and that you’re on our side in this debate, it could help sway some of the nations that are, shall we say, undecided.”

“You wish to use us for your propaganda?” Mr Ogawa demanded.

Mr Lascaux shrugged, holding his hands out in the classic ‘what can you do?’ posture. “That is one way of phrasing it.”

“It’s a win-win situation,” I added. “We get to use your support to strengthen our argument and to convince others to follow along, and you get the freedom that will come from revealing yourselves.”

This started another argument amongst the elders that showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“You don’t need to decide anything right now,” I assured them. “Oshida Hayate has my phone number. I can be reached when you come to a decision. Think about what we’ve said tonight and let me know what you decide, one way or another. This is a momentous change to your way of life- I understand that. Going against a thousand years of history will be quite a difficult thing, but remember: the choice isn’t between revealing yourselves and staying hidden. The choice is between revealing yourselves and staying hidden for a few more years at best.”

I stood, glad to be done kneeling on that pillow, and Mr Lascaux followed my example. The elders all rose, too and we all gave each other little head-nod bows.

“It was my pleasure to meet with you tonight,” I told them. “Please give what we said plenty of thought before you make your choice.”

“That went far better than I’d expected,” I said to Emmy’s dad after the shinobi (or at least their descendants) had left.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I am glad that the dinner was so amicable.”

“I only had to make just the one threat,” I said with a chuckle.

“If only meeting with the other courts was so easy,” Mr Lascaux said with one of his rare smiles.

I took Mr Hara with me when I went to find the restaurant’s manager to settle the bill. The manager spoke English, but not very well, so I thought having a real translator would help. I thanked the man for doing exactly as I’d asked and apologized for being so particular in my requests, and told him that I was very pleased with all that he had done to make our business meeting go smoothly. In the elevator after leaving the restaurant, Mr Hara asked if the Japanese Night Children really were shinobi.

“How much do you know about Night Children in general? Everything I said was true, so it only made sense to me that they would have been. You heard Mr Ogawa admit it,” I said with a shrug.

“I always thought those stories were just that- stories.”

“I’m sure most of them were,” I agreed. “The walking on water or being able to pass through walls- That all had to be fiction, but the truth of them being secret spies and assassins… That was undoubtedly true. I’m one hundred per cent certain that Night Children have performed those duties in the West as well, just maybe not with such mythology around them. Heck, it wouldn’t surprise me at all to find out the Persian assassins from a thousand years ago were Night Children, for example.”

Mr Hara shook his head slowly in disbelief. “I never could have expected what I have learned tonight.”

“What you learned tonight doesn’t go beyond these walls,” I told him.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed.