She drove ahead, solitary in the hissing Japan Sea, under an evening sky of dark yellow that was clouded from horizon to horizon, striated with an elemental movement that arched from circle to circle of the hemisphere. From the south, the wind blew like the hot breath of a wakening dragon. The dragon stirred in the slow, deep heave of the sea that gleamed with a ceramic quality in the lessening light, glazed under the heavy ground swell that felt like the breathing of some primeval creature. The course was 280° and the speed was a steady 22 knots. The crew had been replaced by Tagashi’s men, half a dozen Japanese from Miyako who worked the ship with ease, their white headbands gleaming strangely in the dusk, their naked feet gripping the steel deck. They did not chatter or quarrel as fishermen normally would. Tagashi stood forward, scanning the horizon as it merged with the lowering night. Nothing was visible except a dim haze to the west that might be the mainland, or might be a lower cloudbank on the rim of the sea.
What do You think about Assignment - Manchurian Doll?
