Rebirth in Japan: The Heiress Who Conquered the World

Thursday, November 10, 1988

9:00 AM

Tokyo, Kasumigaseki

This was the heart of Japan’s administrative power. The gray government buildings stood like a silent wall, sealing off the bustle of Chiyoda Ward.

Inside the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications building, in a small meeting room off the Minister’s Secretariat, heavy velvet curtains were drawn tight. The air hung thick with the pale blue smoke of high-end ’Peace’ brand cigarettes, so dense it almost seemed ready to condense into droplets.

Seven or eight solemn-looking men sat around the long conference table.

At the head sat the Administrative Vice-Minister of the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications. He held a copy of today’s Wenwen News, rolled into a tube, and tapped it rhythmically against the table.

”Is this your explanation?”

The Vice-Minister’s voice wasn’t loud, but in the dead silence of the room it cut like broken glass.

Across from him sat an NTT Vice President. The powerful executive who usually commanded boardrooms now had a somber face and dark, swollen bags under his eyes. He clearly hadn’t slept all night.

”Vice-Minister, the technical department has conducted a thorough investigation,” the Vice President said, unbuttoning the top of his shirt collar as if an invisible noose were tightening around his throat.

”The physical overheating of the switches was just a symptom. The real cause was a malicious impact from external, non-standard signals.”

He pulled a pre-prepared technical report from his briefcase and slid it to the center of the table.

”S-Food’s convenience store network uses a TCP/IP protocol derived from the US military. This ’heretical’ technology has not been certified by Japan’s JIS standards. It bypassed our core regulatory network and forcibly connected to the public lines.”

The Vice President looked up, his expression straight as he tried to shift responsibility for the financial disaster onto a convenience store chain.

”This is no longer a simple technical failure. It’s a technological invasion targeting Japan. We must strike back hard.”

”A company that sells rice balls privately built a communication network outside national regulation. That behavior caused a massive data backflow — what we call a ’signaling storm.’ It was the true culprit that burned out the switch temperature control modules.”

Several professors from the University of Tokyo’s Faculty of Engineering — the so-called ’government-sanctioned scholars’ — removed their glasses and wiped them with white handkerchiefs, though no dust existed. Then they nodded slightly, signaling their ’academic approval’ of the conclusion.

The Vice-Minister stopped tapping the table. He gave the Vice President a long, measured look.

In this country, monopoly giants and regulatory departments had always been in the same boat. If they admitted NTT was incompetent, the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications would also be held accountable for poor oversight.

But if this was a ’security incident’ caused by an ’unruly external force’... then the nature of the situation changed completely.

Still, the Saionji Family wasn’t one to be trifled with. The Vice-Minister felt a flicker of irritation. Yet if they didn’t shift the blame and let the Saionji Family slap the Ministry in the face like this, what authority would the Ministry have left?

”Since it’s an illegal connection,” the Vice-Minister said, tossing the rolled-up newspaper into the wastebasket with a soft thud, ”then pull the plug.”

11:00 AM

Otemachi, NTT Headquarters Building

The second emergency press conference.

Unlike yesterday’s sweat-drenched Public Relations Director, who could only bow and apologize, the man standing under the spotlight today was NTT’s Chief Technology Officer.

He wore a tailored dark gray suit, his hair meticulously combed. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were sharp and arrogant.

Behind him, a massive projection screen displayed a dizzyingly complex network topology map.

”Regarding yesterday’s communication disruption, we have identified the exact source.” The CTO did not bow.

He held a laser pointer. The red dot danced across the chart before stopping dead on a section marked in red: ’S-Food Private Node.’

”After a twenty-four-hour technical review, we regret to find that this incident was not merely simple traffic overload.”

He rattled off a string of obscure jargon — ’non-standard protocol,’ ’signaling loop,’ ’port overflow,’ ’illegal bypass.’ The reporters below stared in a daze, unsure how to transcribe what they were hearing.

”To put it simply,” the CTO continued, taking off his glasses and scanning the room with heartbroken indignation, ”certain private enterprises, in pursuit of so-called ’efficiency,’ have unauthorizedly introduced American equipment that does not meet Japanese national security standards. They built an illegal ’extra-legal network’ and attempted to forcibly parasitize NTT’s public infrastructure.”

”This reckless technical experiment is like plugging high-voltage electricity directly into a household outlet.”

He snapped his fingers.

”This is the truth behind the meltdown of the Marunouchi Station switches.”

Camera flashes went off frantically.

”This is not just a commercial violation,” the CTO’s voice rose several notches, echoing through the hall. ”This is a kidnapping of communication security for twelve million citizens in Tokyo. As long as this ’illegal access point’ exists for even one second, Tokyo’s telephone lines could melt down again at any time.”

”To protect the interests of the people, NTT will cooperate with the relevant departments and take all necessary measures.”

1:30 PM

Shinbashi, S-Food Data Center

It was located on the second basement floor of an unremarkable office building. No windows. Only the low-frequency hum of countless servers and the faint hiss of cold air from the vents.

Shimomura Tsutomu sat on a swivel chair, a Chupa Chups lollipop rolling in his mouth. His hands flew across the keyboard as he monitored real-time transaction data from convenience stores across Tokyo.

Beep—

The access control system let out a long, piercing wail. The heavy anti-theft iron door was shoved open and slammed into the wall with a thud.

Shimomura turned his head in surprise.

A group of men in gray uniforms swarmed in. They wore badges from the ’Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications Telecommunications Supervision Division’ and the ’Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Life Safety Division,’ and carried seals and toolboxes.

”Who are you? This is a private server room...”

”Shut up.”

The leading official cut him off coldly and slapped an ’Administrative Execution Order,’ stamped with a bright red seal, onto the main console.

”S-Food is suspected of violating Article 13 of the Telecommunications Business Act, operating Type I telecommunications business without authorization, and having major safety hazards in its equipment.”

The official waved his hand as if shooing away a fly. ”By order of the Minister, seize it immediately.”

Several technicians rushed toward the server racks. They ignored Shimomura’s attempts to stop them and skipped proper shutdown procedures, going straight behind the servers to grab the thick black cables.

”Wait! You’ll lose data that way...”

Before Shimomura could stand, two police officers pinned his shoulders and forced him back into his chair.

Well... this scene felt somewhat familiar. He gave up resisting.

”Unplug them,” the official ordered.

Pop—

Dozens of network cables and power cords were yanked out at once. The continuous, breathing hum of the server room’s fans vanished instantly, leaving only a faint sizzle as the current cut.

The green data stream on the screen froze, then dissolved into dead black.

The official walked up to Shimomura and looked down at the furious genius hacker.

”Is this your so-called ’future technology’?” He gave a contemptuous laugh and nudged the scattered cables with his toe. ”Without even a network license, it’s nothing more than an illegal structure built on sand.”

”Take him away. All hard drives are to be confiscated as evidence.”

3:00 PM

On the streets of Tokyo, public opinion shifted drastically once again.

NTT, cursed by the public that morning, had transformed into a ’victim’ protecting national communication security. S-Food, meanwhile, was now painted as a ’technological terrorist’ that would break telephone lines for profit.

In Akihabara’s Electric Town, a massive outdoor screen was broadcasting an NHK special report. Several gray-haired university professors spoke animatedly in the studio.

”The American technology introduced by S-Food lacks the necessary safety verification...”

”Does building a private network involve stealing citizens’ consumption privacy? That’s worth pondering...”

”Japan’s communication sovereignty must never be in the hands of these irresponsible private enterprises...”

Shibuya, inside a FamilyMart

A housewife held two rice balls, ready to check out. She glanced at the black POS machine on the counter, then at the news on the television. Her hand withdrew.

”Um... can I pay without scanning it with this machine?” she asked cautiously.

”I’m sorry, if we don’t scan the code...” The clerk looked troubled.

”Then I’m not buying it.”

The housewife dropped the rice balls back onto the shelf as if she’d been shocked, grabbed her purse, and hurried out of the store. She moved like a monster that could explode was hiding inside that machine.

Panic spreads faster than a virus.

Under the joint strangulation of the bureaucracy and the monopoly giant, the advantage S-Food had built with technology was being dismantled piece by piece by administrative orders and rumors.

Dusk

Akasaka, top-floor office of Saionji Industries

The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the entire office blood red. Phone bells rang one after another — calls from partners inquiring about or even demanding to terminate contracts.

Fujita Tsuyoshi hung up the receiver and walked solemnly to the sofa.

”Milady.”

”Speak.”

Satsuki sat on a single-seat sofa, an all-English magazine spread across her knees. She read intently, seemingly untouched by the anxious air in the room that felt ready to explode.

”The Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications just sent a formal notice,” Fujita said, his voice low. ”They demand that we stop all POS machine data upload functions within twenty-four hours, dismantle all ’illegal’ network equipment, and undergo a comprehensive technical review.”

”Otherwise...” Fujita paused. ”They will revoke S-Food’s business license.”

This was the killing blow. For a retail chain, losing its network and data was equivalent to being sent back to the Stone Age.

”Oh.” Satsuki’s response was overly calm.

She wasn’t angry or panicked. Instead, she reached out and gently turned a page of the magazine.

It was the latest issue of Time. On the cover was an American man with a tough expression and hawk-like eyes — the current US Trade Representative, Clayton Yeutter. Beside his photo was a striking bold headline:

Super 301: The Weapon of Trade War

”Have they finally resorted to administrative power?” Satsuki closed the magazine with a soft thud.

She stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Below her, Akasaka-mitsuke teemed with traffic. Not far away, the government buildings of Kasumigaseki stood in the twilight like immovable fortresses, representing Japan’s highest power.

”They’re being... so cooperative.” A cold smile curled at the corners of Satsuki’s mouth.

”If they didn’t escalate this to ’obstructing free trade’ and ’rejecting international standards,’ how could I justify inviting those greedy Americans into the game?”

She turned and looked at Fujita.

”Fujita.”

”Yes.”

”Call the US Embassy.”

Satsuki tossed the issue of Time onto the table.

”Tell Ambassador Mansfield that I’d like to invite him to dinner tonight. At the Hotel Okura. And tell him I have a ’wonderful story’ about the Japanese government using administrative means to maliciously block high-tech American products. I’m sure that Trade Representative gentleman in Washington would be very interested.”

Fujita was stunned for a moment, then a gleam flashed in his eyes.

”Yes.”

He picked up the encrypted phone and dialed the number that had long been in his contacts.

Outside, night fell. Tokyo Tower lit up.

And behind that light, an even greater storm was brewing on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.

This time, the hunter was no longer alone.

She had summoned ”The Bald Eagle”