1942

This fact was disturbing. Many hours of discussion had taken place over how to treat the people of the islands, who constituted three distinct ethnic groups: Japanese, Hawaiian, and American.

Dealing with the white Americans would be simple. They were untrustworthy and would feel his iron fist. He also felt that he understood their fears regarding their women and would exploit them. In particular, respectable American women did not have sex with non-whites. This meant he could use sexual terror and the threat of it as a means to an end. It also met his personal preferences, and he looked forward to it.

Omori had decided that he would let his personal aide, Lieutenant Goto, pretty much have his way with American subversives. In Omori’s opinion, Uji Goto was a true sadist, and he had taken the young man as an aide only because Goto’s uncle was a general. The lieutenant, however, could be useful, even expendable if something went wrong.

The native Hawaiians were a different situation. Some anthropologists actually felt they were descended from early Japanese who’d landed on the islands centuries before. Omori thought this was absurd, but his orders were to treat them more gently than the Americans. This would be done until someone stepped out of line, and then they would be dealt with harshly. His research told him that sexual terror among the Hawaiians would be less useful, as they were not as inhibited as the Americans.

The matter of the Japanese on Hawaii was truly unique. Some were totally loyal to Japan, while others were loyal to the United States. Trouble was, no one knew who was who. Word had reached Tokyo that potential leaders of a pro-Japanese government had been interned and shipped to California. Consequently, a puppet government would have to be developed from scratch. This would be accomplished, and very quickly. Four hundred and fifty kempetei were inadequate to govern an island like Oahu. They would need a lot of local help.

The Hawaiian-Japanese would be given preferential status and treated with utmost respect. Kid gloves, the Americans called it. They, not the whites, would be in charge. Omori, who’d endured smug patronization from Americans and British in both Washington and London, thought such a reversal of roles would be wonderful to behold. Perhaps he would even take an American mistress.

Along with the kempetei detachment, he’d brought a score of Korean women as ianfu, or “comfort girls,” to satisfy his men and himself. He thought it would be interesting to have American comfort girls in his stable.

Omori sighed. In a few hours the battle would begin. Ahead of the stinking transport on which he and his men were stuffed was an armada of battleships, cruisers, and carriers. The Americans didn’t stand a chance.

Missy Wilson delved into the C-ration pack and stuffed something in her mouth. “Kind of bland, but not too bad,” she said. “What is it?”

“I think you’re eating the toilet paper,” Alexa said with a laugh.

“I hope not. There’s none left in the stores.”

The fragile Hawaiian economy was in danger of shattering. It had been weeks since any ships had come from the mainland, and even the most ordinary items were in short supply. Rationing had helped, but it had reached the point where there was little left to ration. While food was the highest priority, other items, like toilet paper or soap, were running out as well.

At least you could grow food, Alexa thought. How the hell did one grow toilet paper? Or sanitary napkins? All over the islands, fields and lawns had been turned into gardens with edible plants thrusting through the surface. In a while, much of the food problem would have solved itself, but vegetables were so maddeningly slow growing, or at least it seemed like it.

“Thank God for Jake,” Alexa muttered.

“You think he’ll get in trouble?”

Jake had made several deliveries of “surplus” materials. He’d even helped dig an earth-walled basement under Alexa’s house to store the supplies. Jake had insisted that all the items, treasures to the two women, were being discarded by the military for a number of shortsighted reasons. Neither Alexa nor Melissa quite believed him. It was easy to say he was showing them favoritism, but it also seemed that he was stockpiling goods for some unknown need in the future.

“Do you like him?” Missy asked.

“Jake?”

“No, the man in the moon.”

“Of course I like him. He’s a very good and strong man. Don’t you like him as well?”

“Yes.” Melissa grinned. “But I think you like him a little differently.”

Alexa flushed. “Don’t you think it’s a little early for such speculations?”

“No. Haven’t we all said that times are moving more rapidly than ever and that the old rules don’t apply?”

“Are you suggesting that I should marry Jake Novacek? For one thing, he hasn’t asked and probably won’t.”

“All you have to do is encourage him. Besides, Lexy, you don’t necessarily have to marry him, just get involved.”

“As a protector? Are you suggesting I should be his mistress?”