He was taking a risk, speaking so bluntly, with the Japanese officer already incensed. But Moertopo judged that the truth was his best defense. Kakuta murmured softly and quickly to Hidaka, the older man’s hand restraining the younger one’s temper. When he spoke again, it was clear that Hidaka nearly choked on the words.

“I apologize for my outburst, Lieutenant Moertopo. An understandable reaction, I’m sure you would agree.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“The admiral asks you to explain the nature of this ship. The Siranui, I believe you called it.”

Ali Moertopo patted his systems engineer on the shoulder and motioned for him to turn down the volume of the recordings. Desperate voices still filled the CIC, but in the background now.

“We can review the intercepts later,” said Moertopo. “You will need to know what sort of damage the Americans have inflicted on each other . . .” He carefully neglected to add that he himself would need to know exactly what had happened, as well. And whether the Nuku was down there with them.

“The Siranui,” he continued, “is a Japanese adaptation of a standard U.S. Nemesis cruiser. Its arrays are perhaps even a little better than the originals, but it doesn’t have as much firepower. In this context, however, it has more than enough. That one ship could sink your entire force, Admiral.”

While Hidaka relayed his comments, Moertopo instructed another sysop to bring up some images and cutaways of a Nemesis cruiser on one of the center’s flatscreens. Hidaka finished speaking with the admiral and turned back to Moertopo.

“The admiral wants to know about the captain of this Japanese ship. What sort of a man is he? Will he recognize his duty to the emperor?”

“Will he join you, you mean? I have no idea. I’ve never met him. Captain Djuanda has had occasion to deal with him, but he is still unconscious.”

“What is your feeling, though, Lieutenant?” Hidaka asked, his eyes on the big screen, greedily drinking in the stored vision of the Nemesis cruiser.

“I may be wrong, but my feeling is that he would be unlikely to see the benefit of aligning himself with you.”

Hidaka rolled the words around in his mouth like a handful of poison pebbles. Admiral Kakuta accepted the answer without any visible reaction. He said only one word in reply.

“Why?”

“You are asking me to explain the mind of a man I have never met,” said Moertopo. “I am really just guessing, but I imagine that he—not me, but he—would hold your government responsible for taking Japan into a war it could not win. I don’t know what he might do under such circumstances, but he is not of your time. His view of the world is different.”

“But his duty as a warrior is eternal,” Hidaka protested. “His duty is to the emperor. Not to the emperor’s enemies.”