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Suma's tone became enthusiastic. "Unwittingly, you've touched a chord, Mr. Pitt. We have already begun Japan's new robotic military forces. My engineers are designing and constructing completely automated warships without human crews, aircraft flown entirely by robots, robotic-operated tanks that drive and fight by remote command, and armies composed of hundreds of thousands of armored machines armed with powerful weaponry and long-range sensors that can leap over fifty meters and travel at sixty kilometers an hour. Their ease of repair and their highlevel sensory capabilities make them nearly invincible. In ten years, no superpower military force will be able to stand against us. Unlike your Pentagon generals and admirals, who rely on men and women to fight, bleed, and die in combat, we'll be able to fight large-scale battles without a single human casualty."
A solid minute passed as the Americans at the table attempted to imagine the magnitude of Suma's revelation. The concept seemed so vast, so futuristic that they all had trouble accepting the fact that robotic armies were about to become a here and now proposition.
Only Giordino appeared indifferent to the immense scope of cyborg warfare. "Our mechanical chaperon claims he was consecrated," he said, casually picking at the fish.
"We combine our religion, Shintoism, with our culture," answered Suma, "believing that inanimate, as well as animate, objects are blessed with a soul, an advantage we have over you in the West. Our machines, be they industrial tools or a samurai's sword, are revered as humans. We even have machines that teach many of our workers to behave as machines."
Pitt shook his head. "Sounds self-defeating. You're taking jobs away from your own people."
"An archaic myth, Mr. Pitt," replied Suma, tapping his chopsticks on the table. "In Japan, men and machines have developed a close relationship. Shortly after the turn of the century, we'll have a million robots doing the work of ten million people."
"And what happens to the ten million people who are laid off?"
"We export them to other countries, just as we export our manufactured goods," said Suma quietly.
"They become good law-abiding citizens of their adopted nation, but their loyalty and economic connections will still be tied to Japan."
"A kind of worldwide brotherhood," said Pitt. "I've seen how it works. I recall watching a Japanese bank being built in San Diego by Japanese architects, Japanese developers, Japanese construction workers, all using Japanese equipment and Japanese building supplies imported aboard Japanese ships.
The local contractors and suppliers were cut out completely."
Suma gave an uncaring shrug. "Economic conquest has no rules. Our ethics and morals come from a different breeding ground than yours. In Japan, honor and discipline are knotted tightly to loyalties to the Emperor, family, and the corporation. We are not bred to venerate democratic principles or charitable generosity. The United Way, volunteer work, charity events to raise money for starving people in Africa, and organizations for providing aid to foster children in third-world nations are virtually unheard of in my country. We concentrate our benevolent efforts on taking care of our own." He paused, and then motioned to the robots as they re-entered the room balancing trays. "Ah, here comes the next course."
The bonita was followed by individual wooden trays that held unpeeled ginkgo nuts threaded with pine needles and a pyramid of sliced abalone. Then came a flower soup, a clear broth with single orchids floating in the bowls.
Loren closed her eyes as she savored it. "It tastes as wonderful as it looks," she said.
Suma nodded. "Japanese haute cuisine is created to delight the eye as well as the palate."
"A successful attempt at visual and taste perfection," Pitt observed.
"Are you a bon vivant, Mr. Pitt?" asked Suma.
"I enjoy the pleasure of a gourmet meal, yes."
"Are your tastes varied?"
"If you mean, do I eat most everything, the answer is affirmative."
"Good." Suma clapped his hands. "Then you're in for an exciting and harmonious treat."
Loren thought the dinner was half over, but it had barely begun. A truly exceptional display of tasty dishes, their ingredients artistically arranged, arrived in a steady stream. Figs in sesame sauce, rice with basil, another soup with egg yolk, neatly sliced conger eel, radish, and mushrooms accompanied by roe of sea urchin, several kinds of fish, including turbot, snapper, pike, and squid wrapped in a collage with varied types of seaweed, and lotus root mixed with intricately cut mussels, cucumber, and zucchini. A third soup was served with pickled vegetables, rice, and sesame. At last, dessert was presented, consisting of several sweet fruits, and the feast concluded with the inevitable cup of tea.
"A final meal for the condemned?" Diaz asked harshly.
"Not at all, Senator," Suma replied in a congenial voice. "You and Congresswoman Smith will be returning to Washington within twenty-four hours on board my private jet."
"Why not now?"
"You must be instructed of my goals first. Tomorrow I will personally conduct you and Congresswoman Smith on a tour of my Dragon Center and demonstrate the source of Japan's new might."
"A Dragon Center," repeated Diaz curiously. "For what purpose?"
"You don't know, Senator, about the nuclear bomb cars our host has spread around half the world?"
Pitt asked provokingly.
Diaz was uncomprehending. "Bomb cars?"
