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Cuttlefish -> RE: Small Ship, Big War (10/19/2007 5:42:10 AM)
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May 26, 1943
Location: Rabaul
Course: None
Attached to: TF 36
Mission: Surface Combat
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Proceed to Gili Gili and screen bombardment force from attack
---
Shiro and Riku are wandering down a street in Rabaul. Riku has trailed along unenthusiastically while Shiro ventured into several shops, and he now expresses a desire to return to the ship.
“Soon, soon,” says Shiro. “What is the matter with you, anyway? You are usually eager to look for fresh supplies for the ship.” Riku shrugs.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I just don’t feel like it today.” Shiro eyes him.
“Hm,” he says noncommittally. He peers down a narrow side street and then brightens. “Hey, there we are. Just what you need, Ariga-san!” Riku looks down the street.
“What?” he says. Shiro starts down the street, tugging at him.
“Come on, you will see,” is all he says. He leads Riku to a nondescript door beside which is a wooden sign bearing Chinese characters. He pushes the door open and goes inside. Riku follows.
Within is a small room smelling of herbs. The only furniture in the small front room is a table, at which is seated an old Chinese man. Before him are set a wooden tablet, a sheet of parchment, and a pen and inkwell.
A lot of the businesses in Rabaul are run by Chinese. They were here when the Australians were here, and they have simply carried on as before under their new masters. Most of them are considerably younger than this ancient specimen, however. His beard is long and white and face is deeply wrinkled.
Despite his age he cocks his head alertly to one side when the two sailors enter. “Come in, gentlemen,” he says. “Approach, please.” His Japanese is good. Shiro pulls the confused Riku towards the table.
“What is this?” Riku asks.
“A fortune teller,” says Shiro. “We shall have our fortunes told! How much?” he says, addressing the old man. The ancient reaches out a bony finger and taps the wooden tablet. The sailors look and see carved there a schedule of services and prices carved in Chinese, English, and Japanese. The services include such things as:
Foretelling any single event
Telling a fortune
Telling a fortune in detail
Fixing the marriage day
“This is foolishness!” exclaims Riku.
“Not if I pay for it,” says Shiro. “Come on, it’s worth it if it keeps you from brooding for a few minutes.” He taps the wooden tablet. “A detailed fortune for my friend.” The old man nods slowly
Be seated, young man,” he says, indicating the chair opposite him. Riku does so, reluctantly. The old man dips his pen in the inkwell.
“Now,” he says, “tell me the day and hour of your birth.”
“Uh, October 22, 1921,” says Riku. “At 10:39 in the morning.” The old man begins inscribing a series of Chinese characters on the parchment. “What is he doing?” Riku asks Shiro.
“He is weighing the balance of elements in your destiny,” whispers Shiro. The old man nods, not looking up from the paper.
“Gold, earth, wood, water, and fire,” he says. He then begins drawing more characters, connecting some with lines and drawing one or more parallel lines beneath others.
“If he tells me I am going to take a long journey over water I am leaving!” hisses Riku.
“Shh!” Shiro replies. The old man mumbles to himself in Chinese, then puts down the pen.
“Give me your hands,” he says to Riku. There is enough command in his voice that Riku involuntarily holds out his hands. The old man takes them in his and closes his eyes for a moment. His bony hands feel dry and papery, but his grip is surprisingly firm. After a moment he releases Riku’s hands and opens his eyes.
“Your destiny speaks strongly to me,” says the old man.
“Yeah?” says Riku skeptically.
“First of all,” the fortune teller says, “you will come in years ahead to control much wealth and power. But they will never control you. You have already stepped away from that path. I see a happy old age for you, with many honors and much respect and friendship.” Riku makes a noncommittal noise.
“At the center of everything I see a woman,” says the old man. Riku’s attention sharpens a little. “She dwells on an island and is strongly connected to the sea. Her heart belongs to you as yours belongs to her.” Now Riku stares at the fortune teller.
“Yet there is something between you,” murmurs the old man. “It seems like a mountain, dark and formidable. I do not know what this is. But I foresee that you will pass through darkness and fire and conquer this mountain in the end. You and she will have three sons and three daughters, and you will be blessed with great happiness and many grandchildren.
“Do not mistake me, there is pain and difficulty ahead for you. The war hangs over you like a dark cloud. But if you are patient and hold to the oath that I feel wrapped around you…” Riku interrupts him with a gasp. The old man stops, and Riku makes an impatient gesture.
“My apologies, please continue,” he says urgently. The old man grunts.
“Yes, this oath that binds you more strongly than chains,” says the old man. “If you can hold to it you will achieve your goal in the end. I cannot tell you anything more.” Riku jumps up.
“Did you hear that?” he exclaims to Shiro. “Six children!” He turns and shakes the hold man’s hand vigorously. “Thank you, thank you!” he says. He turns and heads for the door.
“Aren’t you going to stay and hear my fortune?” asks Shiro.
“Tell me about it later,” Riku says. “I have work to do!” He grins happily and leaves, a spring in his step.
There is a moment of silence, then the curtain at the back of the room rustles aside. Taiki steps into the room.
“That was well done, Xuan,” he says to the old man. The old man inclines his head in acknowledgement. Taiki hands him a small roll of bills, which are quickly whisked out of sight.
“I still feel kind of bad tricking him like that,” says Shiro. The old man looks at him.
“Don’t,” he says. “You have given him what he most needs – hope. And belief is a powerful thing. A man who is determined to succeed, who believes he will succeed, is very hard to stop. It may well that what you have done this day will sustain his spirit and lead him to his desire.” Shiro thinks about this.
“It doesn’t sound so bad, when you look at it like that,” he says.
“And now, young man, shall I tell your fortune?” the old man asks him.
“Sure,” says Shiro. He stops suddenly and looks at Taiki. “You didn’t tell him anything about me, did you?” he says. Taiki laughs.
“No,” he says. “This one will be for real.”
“Are you so sure the other one was not?” murmurs the old man to himself as Shiro sits down. But neither of the sailors hears him.
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