Inugami finally ordered, to everyone’s relief, that the boat should proceed on its voyage. The Prince wanted to watch this process outside, from the tower, which was universally accepted, because it meant that he and his companions would not contribute to the tightness aboard the ship. The commander himself insisted on accompanying the young man outside. Amazingly, the old teacher stayed down on in the control room. He seemed to consider the finiteness of the boat to be the lesser evil than having to endure Inugami’s lectures, and was visibly pleased when a cup of tea was served for him.
Aritomo bowed to the old man. “I hope the boat doesn’t get too cramped for you, esteemed teacher.”
“My name is Daiki Sawada, Lieutenant. I would be glad if you simply approached me as Mr. Sawada. The never-ending kowtowing is somehow misplaced in such a limited space. You bump easily into each other.”
Aritomo smiled and bowed again. “Of course, Mr. Sawada. Your student seems to be very docile. He listened attentively to the lectures.”
The old man’s gaze faded a little, as if searching for the right answer to this claim. His distress was ended by loud orders from above. There was not much to do on the bridge. Only the helmsman relayed the commander’s orders to the engine room. The soft vibration of the diesel engines filled the body of the boat as it drifted away from the quay with majestic composure – or great caution, depending on the point of view – and then slowly started up. It was not an exaggeratedly cool morning, so the wind was certainly been bearable at higher speed, and Inugami evidently linked the departure with a small harbor cruise for the Prince.
Military music was audible from the quay, and the honorary company shouted with vigor: “Banzai!”
Aritomo closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the subtle movements of the boat under his feet and the potential, still restrained, a dormant power at their command. It was an uplifting feeling and worth all of the effort.
The weather played along. The sea was calm. Aritomo looked at the instruments in front of him, the diesel engine tachometer, the compass, the speedometer. He could feel the quiet sound, the perfect position of the boat in the water. Everything went so well together. It was a marvel of technology.
“All the writing here is in English,” muttered Sawada, as he studied the endless array of controls and levers and buttons that covered the wall, watching the work of the helmsmen.
“Correct. On all ships of the Japanese Navy the descriptions and signs are in English,” Aritomo told him. “Most of our first ships were built by British shipbuilders, many of the consultants were British, and many of the first instructors as well. We have learned a lot from the Royal Navy, and that has been reflected in the fact that all our new ships continue to adhere to the English language. Every officer has to learn English, though many only learn the basics.”
Sawada looked inquiringly at the young man. “There are enough of us who still believe it is beneath our dignity to learn a foreign language.”
Aritomo nodded. “Yes, and many officers have joined this group. But we wouldn’t have a fleet if we hadn’t been able to absorb foreign knowledge. And we would only have enemies abroad if we refused to accept languages other than our own.”
Sawada smiled. “Contracts are often temporary.”
“You surely know more about these things than me. I am only a second lieutenant. I am executing the orders of those who know and guide us.”
“But I suppose, Lieutenant Hara, that you took your English lessons seriously.”
Aritomo nodded. “I took every one of my lessons seriously, Mr. Sawada. I come from a poor artisan’s family, and the naval career was a unique opportunity for me to do something different. I was the best student in the class and received a scholarship for high school. I was third in my year at the academy. I could have gotten an assignment on one of the big cruisers. But I wanted the submarines.”
Before the old man could say anything, they heard movement from above, and legs appeared on the ladder. Moments later, Inugami and the Prince had reached the bottom. They were followed by the two bodyguards who hadn’t said a word the whole time.
“Get ready for diving!” the commander ordered after he himself had closed the bulkhead. “Ready to blow out!”
There was no rush. Everyone knew what to do. They had an excellent crew.
Nevertheless, Aritomo felt excitement and tension, and he wasn’t the only one here.
They went down into the depth.
The boat was in its element.
And Second Lieutenant Aritomo Hara was too.
4
“We’ve reached a depth of 15 meters,” Inugami explained in a submissive tone to a quietly muttered question by the Prince. It was the first articulated question he had asked himself, instead of nodding to emphasize his teacher’s inquiries. Aritomo paid only marginal attention to the exchange. While the lieutenant was playing the tour guide, he was the first officer to oversee the boat’s journey. It proved difficult to entertain the guests and at the same time run a boat. In their division of labor Inugami had therefore focused entirely on the Prince and left the rest to Aritomo.
That was quite satisfactory.
The boat worked very well. The dive had gone smoothly. As soon as the tanks had filled with seawater, the diesel engines had stopped. Completely silent, the body of the boat had slid below the ocean’s surface, then the electric motors had been started.
“Does the Prince want us to resurface? Not everyone feels at home in the deep,” Aritomo heard the Captain’s question. The young man’s answering voice was hard to understand, but with no order to end the dive, it was likely that he would endure it for a while longer. If Aritomo got it right, glancing out of the corner of his eye, the Prince was anything but sad or frightened. His movements seemed more active since the boat has started its descend, his eyes were bright. The boy was excited about this technology and glad to see it in action. Aritomo began to warm himself for the Prince, because he could understand this childlike fascination quite well.
Aritomo looked around. All crew members radiated the calm competence of experienced submariners. All of them had served on the old Holland boats. By comparison, their new home would seem like a luxury to them, as spacious as a festival hall, and even with a proper toilet that shot feces out into the water with heavy air pressure. On the Holland boats, there had been no more than a bucket filled and dumped over the side of the ship when back on the surface. That wasn’t something Aritomo really liked to remember.
“We’re going to periscope depth now,” Inugami announced, giving Aritomo a meaningful look. But he had already taken action and whispered commands to the crew in the control room. It was barely noticeable how the boat reacted, obediently, without deviation, with a sense of elegance and security.
“Periscope depth, Captain!” Aritomo announced moments later.
Inugami pulled out the periscope and let the Prince glimpse for a while while he did nothing but look complacent. Everything went according to plan. If this trip was over, the admiralty’s gaze would rest with the utmost benevolence on Lieutenant Inugami.
“I can’t see much,” the prince said quietly, turning the periscope a little to the left and right. “It’s very foggy.”
Inugami gave Aritomo a confused look. “Fog, Your Highness?”
They