Page 25 of The Lost Future of Pepperharrow

‘Hey,’ he said to the man. ‘Is that a radio?’

The man looked round, and then seemed surprised when he saw who had spoken. ‘Why?’

‘I was a telegraphist for ages, I’ve never seen one. Can I have a look?’

‘No, lad. Government property.’ He looked amused. ‘I can’t go round showing it to random gaijin.’

Thaniel nodded and sank back in the water again, a bit disappointed but not surprised. The man was sending another message. Now he was close, Thaniel could hear it quite clearly. The man mustn’t have been used to telegraphy, because he was slow and easy to follow.

He’s inside still, east wing. All well.

Thaniel felt a little cheered up. It was bloody impressive. According to every dispatch he’d ever read, Kuroda was a terrible choice for Prime Minister, but it was hard to completely disapprove of someone who invested in new inventions like that. Six would love it.

TWELVE

At the back of the house, a wide courtyard was full of horses and men. Thaniel recognised the Prime Minister from photographs in the newspapers. He’d always been suspicious of the man, because Kuroda’s favourite hobby seemed to be war with Korea. And ‘Kuroda’ meant ‘Blackfield’, and anybody who walked around central government sounding like a pirate couldn’t have been wonderful news for anyone. Thaniel thought he was probably being unfair, especially given the wonderful radio things, and started out willing to be proven wrong, but, quite quickly, he was proven right.

Kuroda wasn’t tall, but he was a bull of a man, and stable-boys were spraying away from him as he threw orders about. His voice was one of those that would carry across battlefields and he had the gruff clipped samurai way of talking that Thaniel could never understand first time round. Suzuki went ahead of them and murmured to him. He swung round. Kuroda had an open face and neat short hair, and wide, serious eyes. He was dressed just as well as Mori, in fantastically expensive-looking forest green. Beyond him were five men in dark suits, standing at the gates and doors. They were all watching.

‘Mori,’ he said, brisk. ‘Here to help me with the Russians, are you?’

‘No,’ Mori said. ‘I absolutely am not. You’re going to have to try harder than that.’

Kuroda gave him a stern look, but then engulfed him. He lifted him right off his feet, though Mori was taller, and spun him around twice. ‘You’re back! You’re back, you bastard, what were you doing out there? Watches, stupid waste of time …’ He dropped him again and thumped his shoulder. Thaniel had never seen anyone look more delighted. There was a sort of fever-excitement coming off the man in waves. His horse, which was just behind them, nudged at them both, wanting to know what all the fuss was. Kuroda looked over at Thaniel, full of frank interest, both hands still on Mori’s arms. ‘This your monkey?’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Thaniel offered.

Kuroda blinked. ‘It can talk. How does it talk?’

‘The usual way, I should imagine,’ Mori said.

Kuroda didn’t seem convinced. ‘Do you understand Japanese, then?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Thaniel said.

‘D’you ride?’

‘I can’t.’

‘Hm.’ He looked Thaniel over again, like he was trying to decide whether or not he really wanted him so close by, but then abruptly he lost interest.

‘Kuroda,’ Mori said, pointed but not quite sharp yet.

‘Delighted to meet you, of course,’ Kuroda said smoothly to Thaniel. He was plainly only in it to needle Mori; he had the glow of someone who had just been given such a wonderful toy to play with that he barely had any idea where to begin. In a child it would have been endearing. In a man it was unnerving.

‘I don’t believe you,’ Thaniel said.

Kuroda laughed much too suddenly. ‘You’re fun.’ He turned away. ‘Mori. Got a nice horse for you. She’s a bit skittish yet, but you’re not bad with horses, are you?’

A boy came out with a black mare. Thaniel couldn’t tell a thing about it except that it was expensive and strong. Mori wound the reins around his hand. ‘She seems all right to me.’ The horse nudged him.

‘Baroness!’ Kuroda shouted. It was klaxon loud and Thaniel saw purple splotches. ‘Where the hell is that beautiful woman of yours when I want to show off to her?’ he added to Mori. ‘She has a knack for vanishing.’

Mori was leaning against the horse, which seemed to like him. ‘Just around you, is it?’

Kuroda snorted. ‘There she is. Mrs Pepperharrow!’ It was too loud again. Thaniel blinked hard. It wasn’t a volume he would have thought a human could produce. If politics fell through for Kuroda, there would be a fine career in opera ready and waiting. ‘We’re all here! Come and hostess.’

When she came, people hurried to get out of her way, though she was tiny. Thaniel wasn’t surprised it had taken her this long to get dressed; she was wearing more than he earned in a year. Her dress was all hummingbird colours that made Mori and Kuroda look austere. There were real jasmine flowers in her hair. Thaniel caught the smell of them, warm and sweet. Despite all that, she wasn’t a stunningly beautiful person. In ordinary clothes she would have been boyish.