Spring had begun to erase the winter drabness from Tokyo's parks. A bright green haze hung among the branches of the trees and stained the dead brown grass.

The brisk wind still carried a sharpness that jabbed at the crowds mobbing the sidewalk in front of the old Daiwa Ichiban Corporation's headquarters. The crush spilled people off the curb and blocked the street like a log jam. Television remote vans lined the opposite side of the broad avenue, satellite dishes craned expectantly upward. Camera crews sidled and wedged their ways among the crowd, conducting impromptu interviews as they fought toward the chest-high temporary dais constructed in front of the building's main entrance.

"We seem to have a cross-section of Tokyo present this morning," said one television reporter doing a stand-up in preparation for an interview. "As might be expected, we have many here from the Korean community and no one from the Diet, the national government, the city, or the prefecture. This event is seen as political death for public officials." The camera pulled back to show a college-age Japanese woman beside the reporter.

"What is surprising is the very large number of ordinary Japanese citizens who have rejected their political leaders' calls for a boycott and have come out in numbers that have overwhelmed the police's ability to cope. Even more surprising is what is on the minds of those-especial the young-who have gathered here this morning for the dedication of the DeGroot and Thomas Foundation for International Reconciliation and one of its first projects, the Barner Allied POW Fund."

Atop the dais, Akira Sugawara, Connor O'Kane, Kate Blackwood, and Nguyen Tran milled about with reporters from around the world. In a far corner, Henry Noord and Richard Falk chatted with a collection of corporate and non-profit foundation executives who had come to lend their support to the dedication. White uniformed attendants served coffee and tea.

Private security guards ringed the dais. In the distance, a protest of right wing neo-nationalists staged an aggressively loud, but so far nonviolent, protest against the upcoming dedication. Television pictures had shown large numbers of Diet and cabinet members mingling with the protesters.

Kate Blackwood half-listened to the B'nai Brith executive as she watched one of the many television monitors installed on the dais.

"This is very interesting," she said, then she as she watched the Japanese newsman interviewing a young Japanese woman.

" ...must repudiate the racist policies that got us into the Pacific War and have brought upon us the scorn of the rest of the world," the woman said.

"Do your parents feel the same way?" the interviewer asked.

The young woman shook her head. "They are somewhere out there," she looked toward the neo-nationalist protesters. "But they also don't know how to use a computer and they still smoke cigarettes to kill themselves. They're the past; their eyes are shut to the future, their minds closed to new ideas."

The newsman bowed and turned to the camera as the picture zoomed into a medium shot of his head and shoulders.

"There's hope," Kate said to the man from B'nai Brith.

"One can hope so." He was silent as the newsman began his stand-up.

"Today's events are scheduled to begin in just over ten minutes," the newsman said. He shifted position so the camera could show a wide shot with the dais in the background.

"Less than six months after the terrorist attacks on the Kyoto mansion of Tokutaro Kurata , the zaibatsu he built-the Daiwa Ichiban Corporation-is no longer."

Kate watched as the television picture cut to a close shot of the dais taken by a shoulder cam. The newsman's voice continued over the new shot.

"Legal challenges to the absolute control of the corporation by Kurata's nephew, Akira Sugawara, have been settled, the will validated. Just after the New Year's holiday, Sugawara announced that Daiwa Ichiban Corporation's business units would be sold to Singapore Electrochip. Nguyen Tran, Electrochip's chairman, said former Daiwa Ichiban Corporation assets would be placed in a special trust and the stock owned by the new foundation, which will be dedicated today. The new foundation will receive one hundred percent of the profits from the former Daiwa Ichiban assets.

"The new foundation was created amid bizarre circumstances," the newsman continued. "Two of the top officers, Americans Katherine Blackwood and Connor O'Kane, were once the subjects of an intense international manhunt, wanted for a number of murders, until the U.S. government agencies involved revealed there had been a case of mistaken identity. Even stranger were rumors of a grotesque plot by a religious sect linked to Daiwa Ichiban Corporation to exterminate Koreans."

The roar of aircraft filled the morning sky. Kate looked up as the new aircraft they had purchased for the commune appeared in tight formation. The crowd hushed as heads craned toward the skywriting.

No human race is superior read the first line of the skywriting.

The newsman continued in a hushed tone. "Rumors of ultra-secret dossiers detailing war crimes and more recent indiscretions on the part of prominent Japanese and Americans citizens have also surfaced along with hearsay that those in the new foundation have used these dossiers to prompt mass resignations in the national governments of both countries and to effect changes in the management of a number of global corporations."

No religious faith is inferior read the skywriting's second line.

"While grist for the tabloid mills," the television newsman continued, "none of the rumors or allegations have been proven."

The B'nai Brith man looked at Kate and gave her a questioning glance. She smiled and shook her head. "Fanciful," she said.

"I think," said the B'nai Brith man, "that if I had in my possession the sorts of documentation the rumors have alleged, I would publish them, make it all public. Expose the evil for what is it."

All collective judgments are wrong read the third line of skywriting.

Kate shrugged. "I've read about the rumors as well," she said. "Now, if they were true-which they aren't-I'm not sure I'd do that."

"Why?"

"Well, it would seem to me that even if you get rid of one level of such reprehensible people, there would be no shortage of equally awful folks ready to step up and take their places. Playing all the cards at once would just re-arrange the chairs." She thought back to the intense discussions she had had with O'Kane, Sugawara, Tran, Hong and others during the months they were in hiding, waiting for the dossiers Barner and O'Kane had compiled to have their effect.

"Threat is more potent than apocalypse," Kate continued. "Once you've pushed the button, you've got nothing left to fight with. Better to use the threat to control than the reality to destroy."

The B'nai Brith man murmured his understanding without agreeing with her.

Only racists make them read the fourth line of the skywriting, and then the name of their author, Elie Wiesel.

"People are fatigued by visions of war atrocities," Kate continued as the master of ceremonies made his rounds, urging the participants into their seats so the dedication could start. "One more set isn't going to help. People are disillusioned with government and business; publication and exposure would only confirm what they already feel without changing things. Isn't it better to quietly use the information to work for change and make things better rather than just destroying things?"

"You sound like you've done a lot of thinking about this." His voice implied he believed the rumors.

"Of course," Kate said. "The rumors involve-partly-me. It's a huge ethical problem, one that deserves great thought." She paused as the B'nai Brith man pulled out her seat for her. "I'm glad I wasn't actually faced with a real decision on this," she said unconvincingly.

Before she sat down, the B'nai Brith man asked her: "If-just if-this were true," his eyes searched her face, "and a group like the Foundation used this information to, in reality, extort admirable behavior from disgusting people-if this were true-then by what ethical rights would this self-appointed group exercise their immense power, their mammoth influence on human society?"

"If that were true," Kate began as she returned his gaze, "it would be a real dilemma, philosophically, given that in a democracy power is supposed to be derived from the people."

The B'nai Brith man nodded. "But then, the exercise of power has gone on in secret for as long as there have been people, yes?"

"I think that-"

"Are you ready?" O'Kane's voice came from behind. Kate turned.

"We need to start the ceremonies," O'Kane said.

Kate nodded as she took his hand and squeezed it.

Television cameras zoomed in as she stood up on tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. The crowd, watching on the large screen monitors set up behind the dais, cheered.