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there；　walking　toward　him；　her　brilliant　silk　dress　shimmering　and　lifting　like　a　butterfly　in　a
breeze。
When　Ana　stepped　into　the　full　sun；　her　face　looked　startlingly　pale；　the　result　of　rice　powder
rather　than　natural　pallor。　Her　eyebrows　were　like　black　arrows　slanted　above　her　dark　eyes。　Her
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lips　were　scarlet。
Ana’s　makeup　was　less　severe；　less　stylized　than　that　of　a　Kabuki　dancer；　although　Finn　could
see　that　was　her　model。　Her　defiant　accentuation　of　racial　traits　spoke　of　defensiveness　rather
than　pride　or　theatrical　necessity。　Like　the　Japanese　dancers　she　emulated；　she　was　constrained；
dissonant　and　humorless。
But　watching　Ana’s　easy　American　stride；　Finn　sensed　the　irony　of　her　allegiance　to　Japan；　a
country　where　women　moved　with　mincing　steps　and　downcast　eyes。　Ana　moved　from　dense
shadow　to　brilliant　sun　with　certainty；　almost　defiance。　She　was　being　watched；　and　knew　it。
Finn　smiled。　Today　he　would　shred　that　certainty。　He　would　begin　by　speaking　in　Japanese；　a
language　he　had　never　used　with　her。
“Welcome；”　Finn　said；　walking　out　through　the　café　door。　His　brief　bow　was　as　graceful　as　his
Japanese。　“Follow　me；　please。　This　café　cannot　equal　your　elegance；　but　the　tables　are　clean　and
the　beer　is　as　cold　as　a　winter　moon。”
Reflexively；　Ana　began　to　return　Finn’s　courtesy　in　the　same　language　he　had　used。　Then　she
realized　that　it　was　Japanese；　not　Spanish　he　had　spoken。　Startled　by　the　purity　and　fluency　of　his
speech；　she　stared　at　Finn；　almost　expecting　to　see　Kestrel’s　dark　eyes　looking　back　at　her。　But
this　was　Finn；　not　Kestrel。　Finn’s　pale　eyes；　catlike　in　their　predatory　appraisal；　watching　her。　At
first　she　thought　his　eyes　expressionless。　Then；　gradually；　she　realized　that　expression　was　there；
very　controlled；　a　shadow　in　the　depths　of　his　round　Western　eyes。　Emotion　so　completely
controlled　was　more　unsettling　than　no　emotion　at　all。
Finn　saw　Ana’s　discomfort。　His　smile　did　not　make　her　feel　more　at　ease。　Off…balance；　she
allowed　him　to　lead　her　into　the　café　and　seat　her。
“What　do　you　want？”　she　demanded　in　English。
“My　words　are　for　you；　not　for　the　Mexicans　across　the　aisle　drinking　beer。　Speak　Japanese
unless　you’d　prefer　the　privacy　of　my　house。”　Finn　smiled　again。　“Of　course；　no　one　would　be
surprised　if　we　went　there；　just　two　lovers　wanting　to　spend　a　little　time　between　the　sheets；
talking　about　the　softness　of　a　bud’s　inmost　petals。”
Ana’s　flush　showed　even　beneath　her　white　powder。　When　she　tried　to　stand；　to　leave；　Finn
moved　so　quickly　she　had　no　time　to　resist。　His　hands　held　her　in　the　chair。　As　he　bent　across　the
table　toward　her；　he　saw　that　her　lips　were　slightly　swollen。　There　were　rosy　shadows　on　her
throat。　It　was　obvious　that　she　had　come　to　the　café　from　a　lover’s　bed。　No　wonder　she　had
been　late。
“Which　will　it　be？”　said　Finn。　“English　at　my　house　or　Japanese　here？”
“Here；”　whispered　Ana。
Finn’s　hand　moved　with　surprising　quickness。　His　fingertip　brushed　her　lips。　“Tell　your　lover
not　to　be　so　rough　next　time。”
Ana　flushed　so　completely　that　Finn　felt　the　heat　on　the　skin　of　her　arms。　He　let　go　of　her；
thinking　how　ill…suited　she　was　for　her　chosen　role　as　spy。　Hatred　of　America　and　fluency　in　five
languages　had　made　her　invaluable　to　Taka…gura　Omi。　But　she　needed　more　discipline　to　be　a
good　covert　agent　or　more　cunning　to　survive　being　a　bad　one。
“It　doesn’t　matter；”　said　Finn　gently。　“The　last　petal　is　unfolding。　The　game　is　almost　over。”
“I　don’t　know　what　you　mean　about　petals　and　games；”　said　Ana；　her　voice　as　rigid　as　her　body。
“It’s　a　shame　you　aren’t　a　samurai；　Ana；　or　a　sparrow　hawk。　Then　you　could　fly　north　with　me
and　watch　the　war　end　just　after　midnight　tomorrow。　Then　America；　not　Japan；　will　be　the　true
Land　of　the　Rising　Sun。　Two　dawns　will　come；　two　dawns　within　the　space　of　a　few　hours。　What
samurai　would　not　kill　or　die　to　see　that？　What　sparrow　hawk　could　resist　flying　there？”
“I　don’t　know　what　–　“
“　–　I’m　talking　about？”　finished　Finn；　smiling。　“Then　listen　very　carefully；　Little　Blossom。　Listen
as　though　Japan’s　life　depended　on　it。　America　has　a　new　ally　–　the　sun。　Our　sunrises　will　shake
the　earth　and　change　the　face　of　the　world。　I’ll　think　of　you　when　unscheduled　dawns　rise　over
Japan　and　cities　vanish　in　one　white　instant　of　fire。　Are　you　listening；　Little　Blossom？”
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Ana　was　still　except　for　the　slight　trembling　of　her　lips。　“Yes；”　she　whispered；　wondering　why　at
this　moment　Finn　should　remind　her　of　Kestrel。　Then　she　realized　it　was　Finn’s　uncanny　ability
to　focus　himself　completely　on　the　moment　that　reminded　her　of　her　lover。　“Yes；　I’m　listening。”
Finn　smiled　and　switched　to　English。　“Don’t　comfort　yourself　by　thinking　I’m　crazy。　I’m　not。
I’m　simply　a　man　who　will　watch　dawn　come　twice　to　an　obscure　New　Mexican　peak。”　He　stood
in　a　single　movement　and　leaned　over　until　his　lips　brushed　her　perfumed　ear。　“Goodbye；　Ana。
You　picked　the　losing　side。”
Juarez
37　Hours　Before　Trinity
（Radio　transmission　received　by　Kestrel。　Decoded。）
REQUEST　DENIED。　DISREGARD　SAN　FRANCISCO。　PURSUE　TEST　RUMORS　TO
ALAMOGORDO。　MAJ。　GEN。　ARISUE
Juarez
37　Hours　Before　Trinity
Finn　stared　down　the　alley　that　held　nothing　but　sunlight　and　shadows。　The　taste　of　Mexican
beer　was　in　his　mouth　and　echoes　of　the　Japanese　language　in　his　throat。　It　had　been　a　long　time
since　he　had　spoken　Japanese。
The　sun　was　hot；　yellow…white；　its　light　like　a　hammer　blow。　He　squinted；　pulled　his　hat　lower
and　crossed　the　street　to　the　office　of　the　Juarez　telephone　exchange。　In　the　hot；　crowded　lobby；
he　paid　his　pesos；　gave　a　number　in　El　Paso　and　went　to　a　booth。　The　phone　was　hot　to　his
touch。　A　woman　answered。
“Sarah？”
“Yes。”
“Must　be　at　least　102°　in　the　shade　today。”
“You’re　getting　soft；”　Sarah　said　automatically；　as　she　dialed　into　the　trunk　line　his　code　word
designated。　If　he　had　said　89°　or　93°　or　98°　he　would　have　been　given　a　different　line。
“May　I　help　you？”　asked　a　polite　male　voice。
“Once　in　a　blue　moon；”　replied　Finn。
Finn　heard　relays　closing；　then　one　ring。　The　phone　was　answered　immediately。
“Yes。”
“That’s　what　I　like　about　you；”　said　Finn　as　he　heard　the　familiar　voice。　“You’re　agreeable。”
“And　you’re　negative。”
“Affirmative；”　said　Finn；　completing　the　recognition　code。　“I’ve　set　the　hook。　I’ll　stay　with　the
fish　until　I’m　sure　he’s　headed　in　the　right　direction。”
“It　would　be　nice　to　know　exactly　where　the　fish　was　going。”
“I’ll　stay　with　him　as　long　as　I　can。　Or　would　the　General　prefer　me　to　miss　my　ride？”
“No。　Be　on　the　runway　by　2000。”
“By　2000？　That’s　cutting　it　very　thin。　He　may　just　be　crossing　the　border　then。　I　can’t　be　sure
he’ll　get　close　enough　for　our　purposes。”
“The　General　is　more　worried　about　him　getting　too　close。”
Finn　felt　the　sweat　gather　in　his　palm；　then　descend　his　wrist　in　a　slow　trickled　“I　don’t　like　it。”
“Write　a　memo。”　Then；　“Relax。　The　General　has　complete　confidence　in　you。”
“Wonder　what　it　feels　like；”　muttered　Finn。
“What？”
“Complete　confidence。”
The　voice　at　the　end　of　the　line　laughed　once；　a　sound　without　humor。　But　Finn　did　not　expect
humor　from　a　man　whose　self…given　code　name　was　“Basket　Case；”　a　war　casualty　with　neither
legs　nor　eyes　nor　testicles；　just　one　hand；　a　voice　and　a　mind　that　knew　every　shade　of　green。
Page　43
Finn　hung　up　and　headed　out　of　the　telephone　office；　leaving　the　voice　trapped　in　the　hot　black
phone。
He　drove　quickly　to　his　house。　In　the　sandy　vacant　lot　next　door　a　Mexican　boy　was　kicking
pebbles　with　naked　brown　feet　and　great　intensity。　Finn　watched　for　a　moment　as　the　child　took
aim；　kicked；　and　sent　a　stone　clicking　against　two　others。　Jorge　was　alone　but　not　lonely；
absorbed　in　a　game　no　one　else　understood。　His　small　grunt　of　satisfaction　told　Finn　that　the
boy　had　just　scored　well。
“Jorge？”　said　Finn；　requesting　rather　than　demanding　the　boy’s　attention。
Jorge　turned；　recognizing　the　voice。　“Hello；　Finn。”
Jorge　carried　eight　years　on　his　thin　shoulders　and　three　times　that　much　in　his　clear　black　eyes。
“Ghost　has　had　kittens；”　said　Finn。
Jorg