“We’ve done everything we set out to do here,” Genda said.

“So we have. Now-is it enough?” Yamamoto seemed determined to be gloomy. He looked toward the west. “Back in Tokyo, they think everything is wonderful. They think the United States is at death’s door. They do not understand the enemy. They may have read Sun Tzu, but they do not think what he says applies to them. Oh, no! They are far more clever than he.”

Such sarcasm flayed. What Clausewitz was in the West, Sun Tzu was in the East-and had been for more than two thousand years. A military man disregarded the ancient Chinese general’s thoughts on strategy and tactics only at his peril. Genda said, “Surely things are not so bad as that.”

“No-they’re very likely worse,” Yamamoto said. “Be thankful you’re well away from Tokyo. It’s a poisonous place these days. Some of the poison comes from success, which makes it sweeter, but it’s no less deadly on account of that. Deadlier, probably, in the long run, because success is the kind of poison that makes you blind.”

“If the Germans knock the Russians out of the war-” Genda began.

“Yes, that’s what the Army is waiting for. If the northern beast dies, they’ll jump on the carcass and tear off slabs of Siberia. If.”

“The Wehrmacht has a foothold in the Caucasus. They’re getting close to Stalingrad. Stalin’s ‘not one step back’ speech after Rostov fell sounded desperate.”

Yamamoto only shrugged those broad shoulders. “We’ll see what happens, that’s all. The Germans were at the gates of Moscow last winter, and they got thrown back. They’re after oil now. We have ours. If they can get theirs… I hope they haven’t overreached, that’s all.”

“They keep the Americans and the British busy, too,” Genda said, “which works to our advantage.” That made Yamamoto smile. He stood up and bowed to Genda, who hastily returned the gesture. “I might have known you would think clearly. With men like you here, Hawaii will be in good hands.” He bowed again, a little more deeply: dismissal.