Ken emitted a quiet, reverent exclamation, the hissed Japanese "Saaaa" that denotes pensive regard, and for a second we both just stood there. Dr. Kenji Asano was clearly awestruck. I was too.
As well we should have been. For one thing, it was a superbly well-preserved piece. The blade was delicately curved, and its edge could probably still do damage. A few flecks of rust were visible here and there, but overall it was in mint condition, just as Noda had claimed.
Even more interesting was that, sure enough, the grip had been removed while they worked on the tsuba. So we were being treated to a glimpse of the Sacred Sword the way Noda had specified it should never be viewed—except by a few crew-cut technicians there in the lab—with the nakago, the steel beneath the grip, exposed. We were seeing it all.
It's gratifying to report that his publicity people had told the truth: there was indeed no signature on the nakago. (I guess if you're swordsmith for god, you just naturally go easy on the ego.) That omission notwithstanding, it was definitely a first-class katana. Looked to be some kind of off-alloy, heavy on copper. If you had to guess what the early swords were like, say at a time in between the late-bronze and early-iron ages, this would be a knowledgeable estimate for appearance. The alloy was plausible; it was clearly very old; and with an antique hilt such as the one lying there, the overall look was very reasonable. I was impressed. Put the handle back on the way you normally see a sword and everything about it clicked.
Sorry, but out of habit I have to do something now. What follows is a technical description of the Imperial Sword, including the part usually hidden by the grip—which nobody else has been able to supply because nobody else had seen it disassembled as it was there in the lab. There may be some collectors who'd feel cheated by anything less. This was, as the senior staff man had sternly brought to our attention, a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
"Early Shinto katana. Very long and active sunagashi and utsuri extending into a kaen boshi. Slender nakago with one mekugi-ana. Shallow koshi-zori with chu-kissaki and bo-hi along either shinogi extending into the nakago . . ."
Enough. Actually, that last part made me a little sad. Truthfully, I think Noda was absolutely right. Nobody should sully the divinity of this piece by exhibiting it disassembled, with the grip removed. The problem is that anybody with the slightest experience might possibly have his faith shaken a trifle, since it's common knowledge that a tapered nakago, the sloping edge there extending back into the section normally covered by the hilt, didn't come into its own till around the mid fif—
"Mr. Walton, I hadn't expected you until later. You should have contacted me."
It was the voice of Matsuo Noda, directly behind me. I looked up to notice that the faces of all the technicians around the room now matched their bleached lab coats.
"Guess we need to coordinate better." I turned around and smiled.