17. Diplomatic Negotiations with Japan 3: Japanese Government

The H3-class assault landing vessel AA-0001, accompanied by the 0001 Torpedo Squadron under the flagship S2-class cruiser LC-0001, decided to deploy the torpedo squadron around itself at the vicinity of Mars's orbit, approaching Earth alone. At the moment of separation, the torpedo squadron transitioned into stealth mode.

During planetary subjugation operations involving landing forces, the landing vessel—serving as a mothership—typically maintains orbit around the planet to provide wide-area support to deployed units. However, in this instance, the mission carried a demonstrative intent toward Japan, and thus it was decided to remain airborne above Tokyo at an altitude of 100.00 (........) kilometers.

Looking up from the ground at the H-3-class hull glowing pale blue from the sunlight, it would appear as a long, white slab floating above your head—its apparent length three times that of the Moon, seen at that altitude.

“Your Excellency, the flagship is currently stationary and hovering one hundred kilometers above Tokyo, the capital of Japan, as scheduled,” reported Captain Brües.

“Thank you for your efforts. Please maintain this position. I expect some form of approach from the ground shortly—ignore all of them. Should there be an attack or similar incident, please respond only with defensive measures. Do not return fire under any circumstances.”

The government and people of Japan are scheduled to receive the prearranged broadcast at seven o’clock tomorrow morning. The recording has been completed, and all other preparations for transmission are in place—no issues are anticipated at this point.

That day, the world trembled.

An unconfirmed celestial body, moving at an unbelievable velocity, was detected crossing the solar system by a NASA surveillance satellite. Continued observation revealed that the object split near Mars’s orbital path, with the largest fragment continuing on a direct trajectory toward Earth—impact was now unavoidable. Subsequent fragments vanished from detection, and were presumed lost for unknown reasons.

An emergency communication was sent from the U.S. government to the heads of allied nations. In response, countries deployed large-scale astronomical telescopes and various observational instruments to monitor the object—but confirmation was only that Earth’s collision was inevitable.

The object’s estimated dimensions are a long axis of approximately 3.5 kilometers and a short axis of about 1 kilometer. If composed of metallic substances such as iron, its mass is estimated at 20 billion tons; even if made of ice, it would still weigh around 2.5 billion tons.

At the end of the report, the U.S. government adds that, if the object continues on its current trajectory and collides with Earth, humanity may face extinction—much like the dinosaurs of old. The estimated impact time is 6:55 a.m. Greenwich Mean Time. Even if humanity survives the next hour, world leaders believed the collapse of civilization was inevitable. With no means to avert the certain death one hour hence, there was little to do but wait quietly for it to come.

The demon planet had abruptly decelerated, coming to a halt just above Earth—specifically at an altitude of one hundred kilometers, the vague boundary between atmosphere and space. And it hovered directly above Tokyo, Japan’s capital, at precisely 07:00 Greenwich Mean Time.

Even to the naked eye, its shape was unmistakably artificial. The unidentified aerial object had ceased being a UFO—no, it was now a spacecraft. The debate over whether extraterrestrial life existed had ended with a whimper, as the visitors had arrived in person. Any life form that would go to the trouble of traveling all the way to Earth clearly possessed a scientific advancement far surpassing humanity’s.

World leaders, from the United States onward, had exhaled in relief that the immediate threat of human extinction had passed. But now they faced a new headache: preparing for contact with an unknown intelligent species.

The massive spacecraft hovered unnervingly above Tokyo, neither orbiting nor settling into a stable path. Visible to the naked eye from the ground, its presence stirred unease. Stock trading at the Tokyo Stock Exchange had already closed for the day, but the foreign exchange market was in chaos—yen sold off in a sudden surge, then hastily repurchased, only to be dumped again at an even greater pace, plunging thirty percent below the previous day’s close and still fluctuating wildly.

The Frankfurt market, already open, halted trading with alacrity. The London market did not open for that day’s session. The New York market remained open, briefly seeing a surge in defense stocks—though whispers persisted about whether weapons developed for terrestrial warfare would even register with aliens possessing advanced technology—and ultimately ended in broad-based declines, closing mid-morning. Other financial markets followed suit, plunging en masse, leaving numerous funds saddled with massive unrealized losses.

The Japanese Government’s leadership faced the same global conditions, but while they had barely time to rejoice over reports of humanity’s crisis being averted by the United States, they were already wrestling with the reality that an alien spacecraft had settled directly above their capital—more so than their foreign counterparts, whose own capitals remained unoccupied, at least for now.

It was, after all, better to have many companions in distress, thought Japan’s Prime Minister, Atsuhiko Ato, as he called for an emergency session just moments after the previous informal meeting had ended. Ato was scheduled to deliver an emergency broadcast via state media to the public in one hour, to explain the situation. It goes without saying that he had, prior to the meeting, properly relieved himself in the residence’s restroom.

The following four were summoned:

Cabinet Secretary, Ide Yoshihisa.

Defense Minister, Yano Jirō.

Finance Minister, Asao Ichirō.

Foreign Minister, Goki Tsunao.

The Prime Minister, Atsuhiko Ato, began the discussion.

“Ah—first one disaster, now another. The first one, we couldn’t do much about, so let’s call it a no-score. The markets, too, seem to be going absolutely haywire worldwide. How about you, Professor Asao?”

When Adabe turned to Asao, a veteran of the old faction and a former prime minister, and prompted him to speak,

“Yeah, that’s right. A spaceship hovering above our heads. Nobody could’ve predicted a situation like this. Still, we can’t just say ‘unforeseen’ and call it a day—can’t leave the public hanging like that. The only silver lining is that tomorrow’s Saturday, so the markets are closed. For now, the only thing we can do is try to establish some form of communication with the spaceship. Mr. Yamada, what about the Self-Defense Forces?”

Defense Minister Yamada took up the thread, removing his glasses and wiping them with a handkerchief dyed with the national flag,

“The instructions currently being issued are strictly for information gathering. There’s a possibility that illuminating radar or similar systems could be interpreted as hostile acts, so we’re limiting observations to optical only. So far, we’ve confirmed two things: no unusual electromagnetic waves are being emitted from that spacecraft, and its surface bears geometric patterns. It’s hovering precisely above the National Diet Building, with the bottom of the craft positioned exactly at an altitude of 100.00 kilometers.”

“Could it be mere coincidence that it’s hovering directly above the Diet Building?”

“Given its size, one can’t say for certain—but it does seem to suggest some deliberate intent,” said Defense Minister Yamano.

“Precisely 100 kilometers… does that imply the entity inside the spacecraft understands Earth’s kilometer?”

Yamano affirmed the statement with a nod.

“Perhaps that’s the case. In that sense, the possibility of communication with the entity isn’t entirely negligible. Moreover, the figure of one hundred kilometers corresponds precisely to the Kármán line—the imaginary boundary separating outer space from the atmosphere, recognized as the upper limit of national airspace. If the bottom of the spacecraft is at an elevation of one hundred kilometers, that means the vessel has not entered our nation’s airspace.”

“A remarkable coincidence, indeed,” someone murmured, voice tinged with disbelief.

Cabinet Secretary Iide spoke up. “If the entity understands us to such an extent, why not attempt contact using a peaceful phrase—what we might call a ‘mongon.’ The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, under Mr. Goki’s direction, could draft such a phrase.”

"Then, Mr. Goki, please draft a suitable and unobtrusive communication message at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. We'll broadcast it in Japanese, English, and French. Was it the French who first coined 'kilometer,' if memory serves?

Ms. Yama no, we're not entirely sure what to call them, but that spacecraft certainly doesn't seem like a threatening force intent on invading Earth, does it?"

"Likely as the Prime Minister suggests. If they were belligerent, they wouldn't have just hovered above us—they'd have attacked without so much as a warning."

"Ms. Yama no, if aliens from that spacecraft were to attack us, could the Self-Defense Forces protect our nation?"

"Probably not even reach the level of 'a single sleeve brushing against another,' but we'd certainly make our best effort."

"Understood. It seems we have no choice but to attempt peaceful contact."

Finally, Mr. Ide, the Cabinet Secretary, concluded the meeting,

"To summarize, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs will draft a message in Japanese, English, and French to be relayed to the other party. The content should state that Japan wishes to engage in peaceful dialogue—correct? Once completed, we’ll transmit it via state broadcaster frequencies.

Incidentally, Prime Minister, what about the Self-Defense Forces’ defensive deployment? How shall we proceed?"

"Since we must avoid appearing hostile, let’s hold off until further notice. Mr. Yamada, please manage the SDF’s readiness."

"Understood."

"One more thing, Mr. Yamada—how are the U.S. forces in Japan behaving?"

"Likely awaiting orders, just like us. The Seventh Fleet at Yokosuka did begin preparations to sortie, but those have since been canceled. No significant movements since. As we are, they probably don’t want to provoke whatever’s up there in the sky—and besides, there’s nothing to do anyway."

"Please advise the U.S. military to refrain from any active measures, for precaution’s sake."

"Understood."

"Then, Prime Minister, is that acceptable? I hereby adjourn the informal meeting. Thank you all for your efforts."

The Foreign Minister, Itsuki, who had remained silent throughout, was mentally noting that becoming Minister had probably been a better choice one term later.

"Good evening, citizens. I am Prime Minister Atsuhiko. The massive structure currently hovering above you—let us call it a spaceship, for lack of a better term."

The government is currently accelerating information gathering regarding the spacecraft, while simultaneously preparing to issue a call for peaceful dialogue. Once ready, this appeal will be broadcast through state media. The craft remains stationary, showing no movement whatsoever—should it harbor aggressive intentions, it would have acted by now. It is reasonable to assume that the entity on the other side seeks peaceful contact with us.

I have ordered our land, sea, and air Self-Defense Forces to stand by, though we intend to respond swiftly should any issue arise. The government solemnly promises to protect your lives and property with every available means. Citizens, until further notice, we ask that you avoid non-essential outings and remain at home. That concludes my brief announcement.

“This concludes the emergency broadcast by Prime Minister Sekibe Masaji of the Japanese Government.

This is NHK, Japan’s national broadcaster.”

I’m watching the broadcast on a monitor in my temporary office aboard the ship. The Japanese Government’s response was exactly as expected—peaceful, and eager to engage if approached first. With this, the negotiations are effectively ninety percent secured. A classic case of artillery diplomacy—except this time, Japan and we are building a W-WIN relationship from the ground up. There’s no need to prolong the suspense and risk panic, but barring any sudden moves, the public should remain calm through the night and into tomorrow morning.