Blitzed(79)

The museum curators, who were all fluent in Japanese, gasped, one of them covering her mouth in total shock. A lot of the rest of the staff looked surprised as well, so I felt like a total idiot raising my hand. Harry caught sight of my hand and pointed towards me. "Yes, Jordan? Question in the back?"

"Uh, Harry, sorry I don't know, but what's a Kokuho?"

There were a few smirks from some of the staff, but Harry's smile was more genuine. "Thanks for asking Jordan, since I know there are a few others out there who didn't know but didn't have the guts to ask. The Kokuho are national treasures of Japan, considered priceless by the government. They are by Japanese law not allowed to be sold or exported from Japan in any way, shape, or form. There are thousands in total, ranging from actual castles to scrolls and pieces of ancient literature, but for this exhibition, the most noted will be seven katana, along with three full sets of authentic samurai armor. It’s the largest collection of these artifacts to be allowed into the United States in three decades. The last time was at the Smithsonian in Washington, just to let you get a grasp on what we're talking about."

Harry continued on, describing some of the security features and procedures being put in place for the arrival of the artifacts. Most of it didn't involve me, except I noted there was a special cleaning procedure the janitorial staff would have to use if we were to clean the exhibit room. Security had the biggest role, with two armed officers to be on duty at all times while the exhibit was in place. Thankfully, the Japanese government was paying some of the cost for the security.

After the speech, I got on a JANM computer, checking on the total impact of what Harry had told me. The numbers I got shocked me. The Kokuho were literally priceless, a class of artifacts so rare and expensive that no insurance company in the world, even Lloyd's of London, were willing to put out a policy on them.

Especially valuable were the katana, the Japanese swords that had gained such a reputation that they'd transcended into the realm of almost the religious, even among non-Japanese.

The centerpiece of the Kokuho exhibit was the twin so-called "spirit blades," one by the legendary swordsmith Masamune, the other by what some considered his spiritual opposite, Muramasa. Both, in addition to being Kokuho, were registered as Juyobunkazai, or important relics to Japan's cultural heritage.

I shut down the computer and left the office, finding Harry overseeing the installation of the display cases in the special exhibit room. "Quite an accomplishment," I said, watching as the first case was carefully jockeyed into place. The case looked heavier than most of the ones the museum used, and I assumed that it was specially made to stronger standards. "You happy about this?"

"Yes and no," he said, grinning sheepishly. "Remember when I interviewed you and told you about the otaku?"

"Yeah, I'd looked the word up on the Internet when I got home that day," I said. "Some of the things that were seen cannot be unseen."

Harry grinned and nodded. "That's true. But I guess I've always been a bit of a katana otaku. It's what got me into doing what I'm doing, considering my great grandfather had a katana that he passed down through the generations, eventually to me when my grandfather died. He brought it over from Japan when he immigrated, and I even had it dated after he died. It's nowhere near as valuable as these of course, but it has a special place in my heart."

"I understand. Is there anything I can do to help you guys set up?"

Harry shook his head. "No, everything is being taken care of. The consulate will send some people over to check the security measures soon. Take off, I'll see you Thursday."

I had the next two days off, so when I came into work on Thursday evening, the exhibit was already fully in place, along with two very stern-looking guards dressed like the Men In Black standing outside the exhibit hall. I couldn't see them, but I was pretty sure both of them were carrying pistols in their jackets, a thing that I honestly didn't want to find out or not. I've always had a thing about guns, preferring that arguments be settled in the old-fashioned way, either verbally or through a good sound set of fisticuffs.

Going into the back to change my clothes and get ready for my cleaning shift out on the floor, I was surprised to find Harry Takahashi still at his desk. It was nearly seven o'clock, and he normally was out of the office by six at the latest. "Hey Harry, burning the midnight oil?"

He raised his head up and grinned, shaking his head. "No. But one of the things that I’m quite happy to not have inherited from my great grandfather's homeland is the penchant for working long hours doing busy work. Unfortunately for me, the Japanese consulate isn't quite as enamored with the idea of family time as I am, so they see nothing wrong with sending me another report to complete and present to them at nine tomorrow morning that they just happened to deliver via courier of all things at five this afternoon. I'll be here at least another two hours."

"Sounds like fun," I quipped. "Anything you want help with?"

"You don't want down this rabbit hole," Harry said with a laugh. "Oh, by the way, there's a box in the janitor's room for you. Someone noticed you've been having problems with the floor chemicals, so they got you a face mask with a filter for when you're running the buffer. It should help with the eyes and nose."

I was touched. I hadn't said anything, but he’d noticed, and I was sure that the mask was from him, most likely paid for out of his own pocket. He really was a good boss to work for. "Thanks. I'll get to that later, I think I'll tackle the Kokuho room first tonight. Hey, those MIB you have outside, they ever go home, or do you just recharge their batteries at the socket twice a day?" I asked, causing him to laugh again.