As planned, while everyone was focused on Albert, Harris slipped away with a heavy case on his shoulder.

He stopped in a dark corner of the garden to pull out a coarse woven robe and pants. Slipped on over his regular clothes, and held in place with a cord, he could pass through the crowds without notice. His shoes were replaced with leather strips fastened on with ropes. Next came a dirty cloth bag. The case was dropped in, tied off, and slung over his shoulder. From a street vendor, he bought a straw hat to cover his face.

Finished with his transformation, Harris followed from below while Albert flew overhead. He moved through the people staring upward. Children ran out to catch the floating ribbons.

Not sure why, but he felt a twitch between his shoulder blades. A warning that eyes followed him. His night excursions helped him navigate through the alleys and backstreets. He took a winding path, trying to lose anyone who followed. His strategy did not work. He turned a corner and faced two thugs. Tamako stepped out beside them from a dark shadow. A swish of air warned him, there were more behind. He was trapped.

“Did you think this was over? Izumi was a tool, nothing more. My people told me the minute she failed. I escaped before Meiji could return. Your actions have been nothing but an annoyance. Our plan is still in place. Though, your death will give me great satisfaction.”

“I wondered about the attack at Albert’s house before we left. The Russians were easy to spot, but those men used traditional Japanese weapons. The assassins did not seem to belong to any group. You were the only one that knew of our involvement. And then there was the assault at the train station.”

While Harris talked, he secretly searched for a possible weapon. He was unsure how many men were him. The gun stuck in his waistband could take out maybe two. The problem was pulling it out from under his robe and firing at the same time. Regardless of any strategy, Tamako would be his first target.

His left hand touched a pole propped against the wall. He reached for it at the same time his right hand pulled the gun free. Aiming at Tamako, he pulled the trigger. The man collapsed. Harris hoped this would stop the attack but that proved wrong. A club hit his hand and sent the gun spinning. Raising his pole to protect himself, he countered another hit and shoved the man away.

From behind, one man struck the back of his legs. The hit point was precise, designed to do the most damage. His muscles lost strength. Unable to balance, he went down. A club wielded by another attacker bashed him on the head. On the ground, feet kicked him in the stomach and back.

A hand grabbed Harris by the chin and shook him. A voice growled, “He’s ready, take him. They want the foreigner alive, even more so since killing Tamako.”

“That should be interesting. Don’t like Westerners interfering, can we observe?”

“Not our concern. Better to stay away.”

Now barely conscious, he experienced the sensation of flying as they grabbed his hands and feet to swing him onto a wooden cart. He landed on the hard floor. A groan escaped from his slack mouth.

“He’s still awake,” a man said.

“Don’t want him causing attention, another tap should do it.”

This time, instead of the back of his head, the stick connected with his jaw.

Not sure how long he was out, Harris woke to the sound of fluttering wings. When his eyes focused, he found Yuso, the miniature dragon, suspended in the air an inch away from his nose. Its rapid wing flapping and high-pitched whistle urged him to wake up. While struggling to a sitting position, he discovered Tamako’s body stretched out beside him.

Grunts and yells caught his attention. He glanced around and observed the green-eyed monk fighting his four attackers.

“I must help him.” Harris pushed off the cart and stood. The world swirled around for a moment. He steadied himself with the cart and searched for a weapon. One of the attackers must have picked up his gun, and not sure what to do with it, pitched the weapon in next to Tamako.

Harris pulled the gun free and checked for bullets. They were still there. He pointed up and fired a warning shot. Up and down the street, windows and doors slammed. People did not want to become involved.

“The next one, I shoot someone.”

The battle came to an abrupt halt. The men turned their attention back to him and charged. Though still unsteady, Harris’s aim was precise. Each man took a bullet to the kneecap. Writhing on the ground, they moaned and cried.

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One had enough energy to reach for a knife, but the monk stepped on his arm and took it away. He said, “We must hurry. The gunshots will bring soldiers. Can you walk?”

Harris grabbed a pole from one of the men and leaned on it. “Yes. The blow to the back of my legs was numbing, but feeling is coming back. Where do we go?”

“This way to the docks.” He indicated a street leading to the right.

“How long was I out?”

“Not long. Dr. Timmons has just turned to head for the ship.”

The monk picked up Harris’s bag and then supported him with a steady hand.

“How did you know?”

“Yuso. He was perched outside the building. Saw you leave, and the men following.”

They hurried through the backstreets, dodging vendors, stacked baskets, and hanging clothes. His legs wobbled and threatened to give way.

Whistles sounded. Someone must have reported gunshots. Soon the wounded men and Tamako would be discovered.

“Can’t take a straight course, must zigzag,” Harris mumbled.

They both noticed Albert’s engine sputter. They glanced up as it died.

“If he crashes, I must be there to help him.” His head pounded from the blow. On legs that did not do what he wanted; Harris stumbled but with the pole for support kept moving.

Now close enough to see the ship, he panicked as the flying machine was about to crash against its side. Throwing down the supporting pole, Harris prepared to dive in and rescue Albert. He was stopped by a firm hand on his arm.

The monk then did something strange. He blew on his hands and clapped them. Harris stared with amazement as Albert, sitting on the machine’s platform lofted up and over the ship’s railing.

Suddenly, aware of marching feet pounding the ground, he hurried to the ship. His bag was pitched at him by the monk. Harris picked it up and along with an empty barrel, hefted them on his shoulders, and limped up the plank. Stepping onto the ship’s deck, he turned and waved. The man nodded, slipped backward, and faded into the activity surrounding the dock.

The emperor’s soldiers, too many to count, marched toward the steamship. He heard the ship’s captain yell. Ropes were pitched off, and the plank dropped. The ship let out a long steam whistle. Soldiers, unable to stop them, stood at attention as it steered away from the harbor.

******

Albert was shown into the same luxury suite they had before. Though this time it was more spacious since all the boxes were left behind. A porter brought in his bags from the flying machine and placed them in his bedroom.

The other closed bedroom door reminded him that Harris did not make it. He plopped down on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling.

“You promised,” Albert muttered.

An envelope was shoved under his door. He ripped it open, hoping for good news but discovered another letter from ‘Father’.

Dear Son,

Glad you made it safely.

Party when you return.

Father.

Not sure how to send a message to Roosevelt, he wadded up the paper and threw it across the room. The man was a good friend, I will return and rescue him.

He lay on the sofa for hours, maybe days, lethargic, not wanting to move. People knocked on his door, but he ignored them. Someone pounded with a heavy fist and then the door unlocked.

The ship’s captain entered. “Dr. Timmons, you must eat. I understand your stay in Japan was treacherous, but we are now at sea. Put it behind you, look forward to returning home. Clean up, dinner will be served in a half hour. I anticipate seeing you at my table. Help Dr. Timmons prepare.”

He waved at a porter waiting in the hall.

Albert stood with a resigned sigh. The man was already laying out a packet of shaving gear. Under orders from the captain, he stayed until Albert was ready and escorted him to the dining room.

He sat at the captain’s table and glanced around to search for other travelers. The room was almost empty. A chair was pulled out next to him, and he was aware of a man carefully sitting down.

“Glad the captain bullied you. Told him to.”

Albert jerked around and stared at the battered face of his friend. “You’ve been on the ship all along?”

“Just barely. Got up the plank right before the ship left. Collapsed on the deck. The crew thought I was a stowaway and locked me up. When I became delirious, they called the doctor. He brought me up to sickbay and gave me a sedative. My clothes and face made me unrecognizable. It was not until I woke up this morning and was able to talk, showed my clothes underneath the pants and robe, that he realized who I was.”

A sizzling steak was set before Albert.

“This is going to kill me, watching you eat that. But I better stay on liquid for a while.”

“Jaw broken?”

“No, just bruised.”

“Thought I would have to come back and rescue you,” Albert commented before popping a piece of meat in his mouth.

“Told you I would be here, just didn’t say in what condition.” Harris’s grin turned into a grimace of pain.

“Received a letter from Father.”

“What did it say?”

“Glad you made it safely. Party when you return. Though what would have happened if neither of us did not make it back?”

“The captain had orders who to tell.”

Albert pushed back his empty plate and stood. Harris raised his body to a standing position and took a deep breath.

“Can you make it back to the cabin?”

“Sure, but maybe with a little help.”

A porter appeared with a chair on wheels and indicated for Harris to sit down. He lowered himself on it and said, “How embarrassing.”

Albert laughed and took over pushing him.

Harris eased himself from the chair onto the sofa in their room. He dug for something under his shirt. “Later, when I can talk better, you will hear the story of my adventures, and also tell me yours. But for now, I have this for you.”

He opened his hand. Two large green stones glistened in his palm.

Albert’s face glowed with excitement. He held them up to the light. “How?”

“That was the agreement. Yuso got the mechanical dragon in exchange for the stones. The monk decided the deal was fair.”

“Did he say how they worked?”

“No, that is for you to discover.”

“There is so much I can design using them.” Albert walked off, his mind already working on the plans. He started digging through drawers looking for paper and pencil.

Harris leaned back on a cushion and closed his eyes.