The message received by General Kayama while he sat at dinner consisted of just one word: Dekimashita -- It is done. For a long time the General sat and stared at the paper, so long in fact that the messenger began to fidget nervously. At last Kayama set the message down and turning to his aide, said, "The war will soon be over, Haru- bo."

Haru stiffened and dipped his head. "Hai!" he said crisply, and then deferentially held a bowl of sweet rice toward the general.

Kayama shook his head. "No," he said. "I have lost my appetite." Sighing, the general stood and straightened his waistcoat. To the messenger he said, "Please convey my congratulations to Captain Murata. Tell him that I will arrive in the morning at seven-thirty for a demonstration."

For General Kayama it was a long and restless night.

The wail of air raid sirens stirred the city from sleep the next morning. General Kayama was not concerned; the sirens had become a regular routine even though not one single bomb had fallen. "How kind of the Americans to wake me on time," he said with a weary smile as Haru helped him into his uniform. That was all he said. He was silent and thoughtful throughout breakfast and for the entirety of the ride to the research facility.

The sight of the immense wooden-and-concrete structure depressed him. Built in a desperate hurry, little attention had been paid to its aesthetics. It was dark, windowless and featureless, like a gigantic coffin. Worse, it towered high above any other building in the city, and situated as it was so close to the poetic grandeur of the Industrial Exhibition Hall it made even that magnificent edifice seem sad and pathetic.

How could something so terribly ugly hold the secret to Japan's ultimate victory over the Americans?

Captain Murata and his staff stood at sharp attention as the General stepped from the car. "Good morning, Sir!" Murata said. "I am pleased to report to you that Project Okaeshi is complete and ready for you inspection."

"Well done," Kayama nodded. "You are to be commended for having accomplished so much in such a short time. The project, I trust, meets every requirement laid forth?"

"Every one, and more. I am certain that the General will be pleased with the results of our work." Murata stepped back and bowed. "Please come this way, Sir."

A small, stuffy elevator carried the General, Captain Murata and a collection of junior officers and scientists to the very top of the structure, where they were ushered into a lavishly-decorated sitting room bordered on one side by a red velvet curtain. Kayama kept his face impassive. It would serve no purpose to express his distaste at the flamboyance of the decor. He settled himself down on a satin chair and listened patiently as Murata, obviously having great difficulty containing his enthusiasm, began his show- and-tell.

"As you are aware, the discoveries made by Unit One-Fourteen in the Manshukoku Territory made it possible to develop a weapon such has never before been seen in this world. My department was given the honor of leading that effort. The goals of this project, to which His Majesty in his wisdom has given the name "Project Okaeshi," are already known to our honored visitors." Murata drew himself up and tried to maintain a stoic appearance. "I am pleased to report that we have met with complete success. Every goal assigned to us has been accomplished. Project Okaeshi is ready for your review, and can be deployed at any time upon completion of this demonstration."

The curtain behind him swept aside to reveal a concrete balcony that afforded a commanding view of the building's vast interior. General Kayama was followed forward by the rest of the luminaries, whose curious murmuring turned to a collective gasp as the product of Murata's labors was revealed.

From the far side of the enclosure Okaeshi's yellow eyes peered coolly back at them, regarding them from an equal height even though the observation platform stood more than forty meters from the floor below. His body, a living mountain of red scales and spiny ridges, was different from the conceptual drawings that Kayama had originally been shown. Those had depicted a squat, slouching hulk, like an oversized frog. The final product was sleek and powerful, almost athletic in its appearance. And bigger. -- much, much bigger than projected.

Captain Murata brimmed like a proud father. "Gentlemen, I hope to illustrate with this demonstration that Okaeshi can be as deadly as he is beautiful. Like a finely- crafted sword, he is truly a weapon worthy of being wielded by our glorious Emperor."

The visitors whispered excitedly to one another but General Kayama simply nodded. "You may proceed," he said.

"Hai!" Murata spun to face the railing and raised a delicate white fan smartly over his head. From tiny doors at floor level emerged equally tiny figures who quickly formed themselves in neat rows upon the floor, which had been covered over its entire length with sand so as to resemble a huge beach. These were, of course, fully-grown soldiers, only standing as they were before Okaeshi's feet they looked as puny as beetles.

Okaeshi slowly lowered his head and watched them impassively as on command the soldiers raised their rifles and took aim.

"Utte!"

The barrage was deafening as flames winked like manic fireflies from the soldiers' rifles. Their bullets peppered the monster's hide, each shot briefly dimpling the tough scales before bouncing away. After more than fifteen seconds of withering gunfire Murata lowered his fan abruptly. Only the patter of spent bullets falling to the sandy floor broke the silence that followed. Okaeshi for a moment did not move, and then raised one hand to scratch blithely at his chest.

The onlookers applauded. General Kayama nodded silently. . Captain Murata snapped his fan overhead again. From below soon rose the roar and clanking of heavy machinery. Leaning over the railing for a better look, the audience watched curiously as a small tank rumbled into view. As he had with the soldiers, Okaeshi followed it with a disinterested gaze. At Murata's command the tank's main gun swung toward the giant, then belched smoke and flame as two rapid, staccato blasts rocked the platform. The first was the shot leaving the barrel; the second was its impact squarely in the center of Okaeshi's belly.

Okaeshi's answer came faster than a serpent's strike. Before the tank could turn away the mighty beast lunged forward. A great hand slammed down upon the turret. Another seized the tank's body, claws sinking into the armor as though it were rice paper. With a powerful tug Okaeshi wrenched the turret from the roof of the tank and flung it away, then thrust his savage claws inside and soon fished a single man from its interior. Pop-pop-pop rang out as that man fired bravely with a pistol at the beast . Okaeshi ignored the shots and with tender care he lowered his captive to the ground, then stood and turned his attention to the ceiling, as though suddenly bored with the whole affair below.

Now Captain Murata was smiling unabashedly. "Here is the true beauty of our creation. Gentlemen, Okaeshi is not just a simple-minded brute. He is a soldier, as loyal to the Emperor as any other. No other weapon has such an ability to differentiate friendly forces from those of the enemy -- even, as you have seen, if his own forces might inadvertently fire upon him. He can withstand nearly any weapon that the Americans are likely to use in the defense of their cities, and it is impossible for him to be turned against our own soldiers. I believe he could well be called the ideal weapon."

One of the attending scientists raised a polite hand. "You said 'nearly any weapon,' Captain Murata?"

Murata nodded. "His armor can withstand tremendous impact, but like any living creature he can be harmed by fire. One might argue that the Americans could defeat him with their flamethrowers, but this would require them to get within a very close range. I am confident that this does not present a concern. In a moment, I think that you will all agree."

He turned, almost leering, and bowed to the General. "May I proceed with the final demonstration?"

General Kayama felt the anticipation of the other onlookers pressing on the back of his neck like a physical force. He nodded without a word, and without looking in Murata's direction.

He heard the fan snap. Far below, the little doors slid open and once again a group of tiny figures emerged. This time the entrance was far from orderly. The men, tall and gaunt and clad in prisoners' garb, wore white hoods over their heads and stumbled like drunkards into the arena. There they milled about and felt blindly at the air until an order was barked in English for them to remove their hoods. They obeyed, tugging the fabric away from their blonde heads and pallid faces, and immediately they began to shout and cling to one another, pointing with shaking fingers at the titan before them.

Okaeshi gazed down at them with the eyes of a stalking cat as they began to rush about like terrified ants, and then like ants he began brutally to stamp them out. The men howled in wild terror as huge clawed feet crashed down upon them. Okaeshi took great care in slaughtering them, methodically chasing them down and smashing them underfoot, their bodies making sounds like locusts being trampled.

After only a few short, violent seconds their number had been reduced to two. Those rushed to one of the doors through which they had been pushed and beat upon them with their fists, crying out for mercy in their guttural native language, as Okaeshi cornered them and squatted down, reaching.

"Okaeshi's most powerful attribute," Captain Murata beamed, "is his psychological impact upon the enemy." Below, the giant seized one of the shrieking prisoners between his fingers and lifted the man, kicking, into the air. "Americans are a people of weak courage and low moral character. When favored with the advantage they fight fiercely, but the moment the tide of battle turns they cower like dogs and surrender. Once they see Okaeshi marching through their cities..."

Behind him the great beast dropped his squirming captive into his mouth and gulped.

"...they will instantly lose their will to fight and will quite willingly submit to our terms."

The lone surviving prisoner had his back to the door and was howling and gibbering and pissing himself in terror. Okaeshi reached for him. This time the terrible claws scooped behind the man and gathered him into a mighty fist. Okaeshi stood and peered coldly down at his catch, then turned and in three immense strides stood before the observation platform. He raised the hand with the babbling prisoner clutched tightly within and held him so that the onlookers could see.

"Let us pretend that this man has important information on the strength and location of an American aircraft carrier task force." Captain Murata said with the air of a schoolteacher. "He might withstand the usual techniques we would employ to extract that information, and perhaps he would still hold his tongue even with a pistol aimed at his head." Murata nodded curtly, and the massive fingers began to tighten. The prisoner's face turned red and his shrieking rose to a hoarse mosquito- whine. "Okaeshi will literally squeeze the information from him. If, somehow, the prisoner still refuses to talk, the mere sight of their comrade being crushed to death will destroy the will of his fellows to resist." The powerful fist clenched harder. The prisoner's eyes bulged from his head.

"Enough."

Captain Murata started when the General spoke. He stared dumbly for a moment, then turned and shouted a hasty order to the giant. The American gasped a frantic breath as the murderous grip about him relaxed.

"Thank you, Captain Murata," General Kayama said evenly. "Project Okaeshi is a glorious achievement. Thanks to you, I am confident that we will be victorious. We shall arrange a show of force by deploying Okaeshi on Okinawa. Be certain that enough Americans are left alive to report back to their government."

"Show...of force?" Murata was incredulous. "But...Sir..."

The General turned and looked straight into Murata's eyes. Murata quickly lowered his gaze. "Hai," he said quickly.

Kayama turned away and peered downward, watching as Korean laborers swarmed over the floor and shoveled up the flattened remains and the redsoaked sand, while behind him the scientists and junior officers crowded an unhappy Captain Murata and clapped him on the back and shook his hand. "Haru-bo..."

His aide darted to his side. "Haa!"

"I would like a few moments to observe the city from the roof of this abomination before it is torn down. Please see to it that I am not disturbed for ten minutes, and then send Captain Murata to speak to me alone."

"Hai!"

Exactly ten minutes later Kayama heard the door swing open behind him. "My decision has disappointed you tremendously," the General said without turning around. "Am I right, Captain?"

Murata bowed his head. He spoke in carefully measured tones. "My opinion on the matter is unimportant, Sir. I am a soldier, and it is my duty to follow the orders of my senior officer."

Kayama nodded quietly and continued to gaze over the edge of the roof, down at the lovely curves of the dome that would, happily, soon be the tallest point in the city once more. "Come and stand with me, Murata," he said.

Murata silently obeyed.

"Do not misunderstand, Murata. Your achievement is remarkable. Your efforts alone will prove to be nothing short of the salvation of Japan. We owe you much, and for that you have certainly earned my deep admiration." He glanced over briefly. "As well as the right to speak candidly to me. So tell me, please, what is on your mind."

Murata cleared his throat and fidgeted awkwardly. "Sir...I respectfully recommend that Okaeshi be deployed first on American soil. A single, massive attack would strike terror and panic throughout the populace. They would rise up against their government and force them to sue for peace. That was the entire point of the project, was it not?"

"You said yourself that Americans have no courage. Would a demonstration of our new weapon not frighten them into submission just as effectively as an all-out attack?"

"Respectfully, Sir, I disagree. The Americans might think it was a trick. Okinawa is too far away from their shores for Okaeshi to have his full psychological impact. We must bring horror and ruin down upon their homes just as they have been doing to ours."

The General smiled again. "So Okaeshi is aptly named. Is it revenge that you want? You said so yourself, Murata: The Americans are quick to surrender when faced with an overwhelming force. I believe that we need only to let them witness Okaeshi's power for themselves and they will beg us for peace.""

Murata pursed his lips and fumbled for an answer.

Kayama turned his attention to the sky, where a lone airplane glided like a hawk high overhead. As though suddenly aware that he had been spotted, the pilot dipped one wing and turned toward the rising sun. "I understand your desire to repay the Americans for the damage they have caused, but I do not feel that unleashing Okaeshi upon their cities would be an honorable victory. Remember, Murata: The most deadly sword is the one that remains in its scabbard. If Japan is to win this war, we must win it with honor. If we forsake our honor in exchange for victory, then we will truly have lost."

"I understand, Sir. But have you forgotten that we are fighting an enemy that has no honor? Okaeshi will save the lives of thousands of our people, but only if we use him wisely. I beg you to reconsider your order, Sir. To defeat the Americans we must take full advantage of the terror that can only be achieved by a direct assault on the American homeland itself. When they see their cities crumble and their people trampled underfoot, they will realize that to continue fighting is to invite total destruction."

The General did not seem to be paying attention. He was staring instead at the sky, where a little parachute drifted like a dandelion seed high overhead. He shaded his eyes and squinted, and then a faint smile came to his lips.

Murata followed his gaze with a scowl. "More leaflet canisters," he said with a snort. "You see, Sir? They honestly believe that they can break our will with their silly propaganda. It is an unforgivable insult. We must show them-- "

Captain Murata, his sentence, and Project Okaeshi all came to an abrupt end in the heat of a thousand suns.

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