Free Clockwork Samurai by Jeannie Lin

the rebels, but it was odd for Chang-wei to refer to himself so personally.
    We passed over Dejima, and I strained to catch a glimpse of the Dutch traders, but everything looked like miniature models from this vantage point. The people were as small as mice.
    I had seen Western foreigners for the first time in the Shanghai settlement, even spoken to one who had taken the time to learn the Canton dialect, a trading language, common to many of the treaty ports.
    Though they were pale skinned and lighter haired, I had to admit they were hardly devils. The differences in appearance were hard to focus on exactly. Some features such as the nose or mouth were larger . . . and . . . I couldn’t find the right word.
Coarser
in appearance.
    Chang-wei was more familiar with the foreigners than most of our countrymen. He had been taken aboard a Western ship after the first conflict. They’d forced him into service, and he’d even sailed all the way to their capital, a place called London, where he’d settled for several years.
    I couldn’t imagine it, living so far away in a strange land. The islands of Japan seemed a far-off and exotic place.
    The landing field was marked by flags raised onto bamboo poles. It was located inland from the shore. Captain Zhao navigated the airship between the watchtowers and positioned it over the clearing. Air hissed from the jets as the balloon was depressurized, reducing the ship’s buoyancy until it touched down on the airfield.
    The airship rumbled as the captain cut the engines. The rotors wound down and went still. Down below, a Japanese entourage made its way toward us. They looked to be at least twenty men strong with swords that were sheathed, yet prominently displayed.
    â€œReady?” Chang-wei asked.
    The look on his face was one of excitement. He was fully suited toward such adventure. The rest of our much smaller escort formed around us as the crew lowered the gangplank. I prepared to set foot down on the land of the rising sun.

Chapter Seven
    Captain Zhao took the lead, having made several landings in Nagasaki. “No political envoys or ambassadors are allowed to accompany the merchant ships,” he reminded us as the port officials approached. They were escorted by armed swordsmen in case we presented any threat.
    The captain greeted the landing party and explained our purpose, which was trade and nothing but trade.
    Chang-wei briefed me on the details as we waited. Our cargo held ginseng and various other medicines and remedies. The landing party had been sent by the Saga domain, whose daimyo, the feudal lord, was charged with defense of the coast. I knew little of the samurai warriors of the Japanese aside from their legendary reputations for upholding honor until death.
    As I glanced upon them now, I had the same sense of foreboding I felt among the
Jin Jun
, the Forbidden Guard that protected our Emperor. Among samurai, apparently one sword was not enough. Each man was armed with two. I supposed so they could kill a man twice, if needed. I kept my gaze directed downward.
    Zhao provided papers and a circular jade seal that had been broken in half.
    The samurai glanced at the papers and then back to the airship as if scanning it for weapons. He replied to the captain, and I found myself straining to understand, even though I knew nothing of the Japanese language. The sound of it was harsh to the ear, lacking the fluid tones of our tongue. He seemed to speak at great length, after which Zhao relayed a simple message.
    â€œWe will be escorted directly to the custom house.”
    Captain Zhao brought two of his men, leaving the rest on board. Our party was five in number compared to twenty samurai who looked like they could cut us in half.
    The foreign settlement was located along the shore. A stone wall delineated the foreign area, but the true boundary between Nagasaki and the trading post was enforced by the watchtowers that lined the