“This guy’s a real pro,” muttered the shill.
“… Listen, can’t you hear?” the shadow adjutant went on. “The whole world is weeping with loud lamentation. The world weeps at the picture books of happy homes, and at TV commercials for wedding palaces, as it takes part in drunken medleys in bars and dives. We quintessential castoffs can hear every wail. Never let it be said that Commander Inototsu died in vain. Commander Komono, Captain—please lead us.”
The shadow adjutant unzipped the canvas bag at his side and took out something resembling a half-rotten cabbage. Holding it up with reverence, he marched forward ceremoniously. Stepping directly in front of me, he held it out as if presenting me with a special award. It was the old green hunting cap that had been Inototsu’s trademark. The shadow bowed his head and said unctuously:
“Please accept this remembrance of your esteemed father. We sincerely hope you will overcome your present sorrow, in order to carry on his great work and see it through to completion.”
I could hardly bear to touch the thing. It symbolized the essence of all that I hated about Inototsu; it was the materialization of his stench. But I couldn’t very well refuse it, either; that’s a ceremony for you. This oily-smooth old man might possibly forgive me if I handled the cap with disrespect, but never if I ignored the ceremony. The insect dealer beside him was silent, without a trace of a smile on his lips. This was not only because they had just met, I felt sure, but because he too had sensed the core of madness lurking inside his adjutant. As he stepped back, the shadow peered inside the toilet.
“What an unfortunate disaster,” he concurred. Then he turned to the insect dealer, leaning on his broom as on a cane, and addressed him with compelling politeness. “What do you say, sir, to calling back all the cleaning squads and having them join in a search for the lost little females? I daresay it would be good for morale. Not only could we be of service to the captain, but you see this is a question that bears directly on the fate of the Kingdom of Quintessential Castoffs as well. When the world is destroyed in hellfire, even if we survive, unless we leave descendants our survival is in vain. We would be letting society down. Besides, like bamboo, which flowers and bears fruit just before it withers and dies, most quintessential castoffs still have sexual prowess. And as has been scientifically proven, they are still fully capable of fathering children. In fact, they’d rather do that than eat.”
“Hey, that goes against the agreement!” cried the youth in an unhappy voice, his body stiff. “You promised you wouldn’t lay a finger on them!”
“And we won’t. It’ll be a different part of the anatomy altogether. Now what are you going to do about it?” The adjutant stood stiffly erect and banged the floor with his broom handle. There was a metallic clang. “If you expect us to share them with you, then I’d advise you to show respect for your elders. Respect, do you hear me? Or would you like to have this taken up in court? Speak up. You’ve been told how to answer when spoken to, haven’t you?” His turn of speech reminded me of Inototsu. The insect dealer had dropped his eyes to the floor and was scratching himself behind the ear; he seemed to be struggling to maintain a disinterested expression.
“He’s something, isn’t he?” whispered the girl, and bit her lip.
“Isn’t he, though. He’ll be a cinch to work for,” agreed the shill.
After some hesitation, the youth straightened himself and sang out, his face expressionless, “Excuse me, sir!”
“That’s more like it.”
“I see.” The insect dealer nodded his large head and thrust his hands in his pants pockets. “But the final judgment will depend on the captain. And we’ve got to consider his limits of endurance.”
“Yes, that’s right,” the girl responded at once, firmly. “We can’t rely on that search; it’s too chancy. The captain started going out of his mind just a little while ago.”
“How would we break the toilet?”
“There’s a vacuum inside, so all you have to do is open a hole in the pipe and let air in. Break the concrete about eight inches down… .”
“I see—it’s a question of odds.” The insect dealer plucked a gold-plated badge out of his pocket. “What do you say, folks? These carry a lot of weight around town in the entertainment districts, especially the gold-plated ones… .”
No one reached out a hand. The adjutant repeated, “Shall I send out an order to the cleaning squads outside, ordering them to return immediately and join the search squad?”
The shill, his voice like bubbles from a washcloth squeezed underwater, murmured, “So that’s it … a dozen or so junior high school girls, and dozens and dozens of old men… .”
“I won’t stand for it,” fumed Sengoku. “No way. Even if the New Beginning comes, and we alone survive, those girls must be guaranteed the right to choose their own partners. I’ll recommend that this be adopted as a central article in the bylaws. Who does he think he is? Little females indeed! If that’s the way he’s going to talk, I hereby withdraw all cooperation.”
There were several seconds of silence. Then the youth whispered, “It goes against the agreement. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not at all… .”
“How about it, Captain—about how many more hours do you think you can hold out?” The insect dealer propped up both elbows on his sleeping bag and smiled at me, fondling his badge. It was the very expression he had worn when I stopped the jeep and he came back with the fish sticks.
“I have only one question,” I said. “You and the others came by way of the tangerine grove, didn’t you? So why aren’t you wet? Your clothes, your hair, anything …”
“That’s right,” said the shill. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
“We came by boat.” The adjutant smiled faintly. “A rubber boat. Couldn’t manage without it… . You mean you didn’t know? It’s stuck in below the ceiling on the eastern side near the floodgate, where the ceiling comes down nearly to water level. Help yourself anytime. You lie face up in the bottom and push against the ceiling with your hands and feet. Only fifteen feet or so from there, you come to a stairway. To pull the boat toward you, use the rope attached to a pulley under the ceiling there by the floodgate.”
I could say nothing. His all-too-practical explanation shattered my frail hopes. There was no hidden passageway.
“A third alternative does exist,” said the insect dealer, “but it probably wouldn’t appeal to you.” He rubbed a badge on his leg, and pinned it on his chest. “I mean amputating your leg. Logically speaking, it is another possibility, that’s all. I just thought I’d mention it.”
“We’re wasting time, Commander,” said the adjutant. “Inototsu would have issued orders long ago. He knew how to handle people. How do you expect to win the men over if you can’t even stir them to action over the little females?”
He stepped up to the toilet. I braced myself, but he seemed to have no intention of hurting me. He picked up the green hunting cap of Inototsu’s, which I had let fall unawares, brushed it off (though the cap itself was far dirtier than any dirt it might have picked up), walked across the hold, and laid it carefully on the blue plastic sheet. Bringing his palms together, he then clapped his hands solemnly—whether in Shinto style or Buddhist I couldn’t tell, nor did it seem to matter. Even from behind he looked like a hole in space.
“All right, then—I’ll give an order.” The insect dealer got up. “Does anybody know a doctor? He needn’t work exclusively for the Broom Brigade, but it ought to be someone we could rely on in an emergency.”
“I know one, but he’s an ob-gyn man,” replied the shadow adjutant, in apparent discomfort.
“What are you going to do?” I asked. My mouth was dry, and yet I wanted to urinate again.
“The specialty doesn’t matter.” The insect dealer held up his hands, effectively shutting off further discussion. “If he can’t make house calls, let him at least provide us with some drugs. A good strong sedative, not some over-the-counter
kind. Something potent, like morphine. Can he do it?”
“I suppose so. If he doesn’t have to do it very often.”
“And we’ll need sleeping pills, and antibiotics. Send out the order on the double.”
“What about calling in the cleaning squads?” the shadow adjutant reminded him.
“I leave that to your judgment.”
23
“I WANT TO SEE THE SKY”
“If only I could see the sky,” sighed the girl forlornly.
“It’s still the middle of the night,” I said. The throb of pain in my leg was strange; it didn’t match my heartbeat.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“You want to get out of here?”
“Very much.”
Casually, while pretending to wash the galley sink, she picked up my Uzi and stood it against the side of the toilet, where I could reach out and get it without twisting my knee. Was she concerned about my safety? It was true that the situation was growing tenser by the moment.
The adjutant returned from the work hold, apparently having finished relaying commands. He struck the floor with his broom handle and barked an order at the youth.
“Scout A!”
“Excuse me, sir.”
“Bring down a table and chair from upstairs.”
“Yes, sir. A table and chair from upstairs. Right away, sir.”
“The hell you will,” I yelled, turning to the insect dealer and the shill for support. The shill and the girl responded quickly: he planted himself at the foot of the stairs, blocking the way up, while she released the safety catch on the crossbow. The insect dealer only shook his head at the youth, restraining him passively. I still wasn’t accustomed to the new distribution of power. Of them all, Sengoku, who only gave a deep sigh, may well have been most sympathetic to me.
“May I ask why not?” The adjutant seemed less disgruntled than surprised. “I should like to take this opportunity to explain several important daily procedures to our new commander. For him to be able to look through the necessary papers, we will need a table and chair.”
“I don’t care what the reason is,” I said. “Nobody goes up there without my permission.”
“Then you will please give us your permission.”
“Oh, I don’t think we need to get so touchy, do we?” said the insect dealer, mollifying the adjutant and me with a broad smile as he spread out his sleeping bag. “This’ll do fine for now. I’ll imagine I’m out on a picnic, enjoying the cherry blossoms at night.”
The shill smiled—perhaps a professional reflex—as he watched the adjutant pull various articles from his canvas bag and arrange them across the sleeping bag. It was exactly like an outdoor stall, without the need for capital investment. Not even the insect dealer could suppress a small smile.
The girl sat on the bottom step of the staircase, and the shill settled himself three steps higher, leaning against the banister as he looked down. The insect dealer sat cross-legged by the wall on the bridge side; even Sengoku came around by the toilet for a peek. I, of course, had the best view of all from my vantage point atop the toilet. Only the youthful scout remained sulking beside the storage drums.
The state of my leg grew more and more disquieting. I had a violent chill, as if the symptoms were spreading throughout my body. Intellectually, my mind rejected the idea, yet somehow I seemed to be waiting for drugs from the doctor. Never mind antibiotics, I thought—get me morphine!
The adjutant spread out his items, conspicuous among them a telephone directory.
“What am I supposed to do with a phone book?” queried the insect dealer, a look of incomprehension on his face.
“We’ll use it later, in the trial. I’ll explain everything in due course… .”
“So the commander just listens to explanations, and has no final say?”
“Nothing of the kind. But I should advise against too-sudden changes. Customs that the entire brigade grows used to become almost physically a part of them. Casting doubt on established customs would be to no one’s advantage. Pride in being part of the brigade is inseparable from a spirit of submission.”
“Where’d you get all that?”
“Can’t you guess?” The shadow man laughed for the first time. It was a colorless laugh, neither sarcastic nor amused. “I used to be active in politics.”
“Politics is interesting, I’ll grant you that.”
“Nothing more so—as long as you’re on the side in power. And as long as you’re willing to live with the fear of losing that power, there’s no greater pleasure in the world than to know the country is safely in your hands. Commander Inototsu was a fortunate man.
“The country?” repeated the insect dealer. “You’re only talking about the Kingdom of Quintessential Castoffs.”
“Don’t talk foolishly about things you don’t understand.” The shadow launched into a speech. “The value of a country has nothing to do with its size or wealth: the only trick is getting other countries to recognize it in accordance with international law. As long as they do that, even a tiny country no bigger than the palm of your hand is a sovereign nation. Do you know what that means? There is no greater power on earth. Backed by that power, whatever you do—kill, steal, get rich and fat off confidence games—you can never be arrested or imprisoned. Criticized, yes; fined, no. This is the century of the sovereign nation, absolutely.”
“He’s funny, isn’t he?” said the insect dealer, glancing around the room as if testing everyone’s reactions. For a second his eyes grew thoughtful. Then he said, “But it’s all a pipe dream. Whatever you say or do, nobody’s going to recognize the Kingdom of Quintessential Castoffs as a sovereign nation.”
“Ah, you don’t understand. Or no, forgive me. You mustn’t forget that we’re entering the age of the apocalypse—the New Beginning. When that time comes, everyone can just grant himself recognition. It will be a brand-new era.”
“So you’re another one who thinks nuclear war is inevitable?”
“Absolutely.”
“So do I.” I couldn’t help speaking up, despite a teeth-clenching chill.
“Do you? Why?” The adjutant did not seem especially pleased with the appearance of a fellow believer.
“Because once they discover a weapon so powerful that the first one to use it will automatically win—which is what everyone is racing to discover—I find it hard to believe they’d hesitate to put it into use.”
“Very perceptive.” For a moment I felt as if the shadow had opened his shadow eyes to reveal another set of eyes, deeper within. “But more important, even supposing a state succumbs to a virulent infectious disease, there is no way to force it to undergo a cure.”
“Then there’s no hope,” wailed Sengoku.
“That only makes it more interesting, you might say,” said the adjutant. “Imagine yourself a witness to Genesis, Chapter One. What greater thrill could there be? That’s real nation-building.”
“But kingdoms aren’t for me,” I said. “I told Komono that before—monarchies and dictatorships are not my style.” The sense of swelling had spread up past my knee, until now the weight of my body on that leg was hardly bearable. I longed to sit down, even for a moment.
“It’s all one and the same.” The adjutant rearranged the telephone directories and sheafs of paper scattered on the sleeping bag, as if in accordance with some fundamental law. “You’re talking about democratization, Captain, if I’m not mistaken. That, believe me, is a mere expedient the state was forced to adopt in order to increase individual production efficiency. It’s no different from expanding the freedom of a terminal in order to increase computer efficiency. After all, every form of democracy places limits on the freedom to commit treason or acts of a similar nature.”
“But there’s the right to self-defense.”
“Certainly. What guarantees it, however, is again the state. There are two kinds of national defense: external defense, to protect against meddling from without, and inte
rnal defense, to protect against treason or rebellion from within. Hence the two great pillars of any state are its army and its police. There can be no state in which the domination principle fails to function. Whoever is in control, issuance of passports goes right on. But what of it—all we’re concerned with for the time being is the Kingdom of Quintessential Castoffs, after all. ‘Kingdom’ in this case is merely a manner of speaking, you understand, used to suggest an ideal realm isolated from the rest of the world. As far as concrete policy decisions are concerned, I personally intend to leave everything in your hands, Commander—or the captain’s.”
Instinctively the insect dealer and I exchanged glances. The shadow had succeeded brilliantly in driving a wedge between us. The suggestive phrasing effectively underscored his own position as well. This guy was some humbug. I felt as if I’d once had a dream like this; it was the sort of scene that had probably been inevitable once I started selling tickets to survival in earnest. A haunted shrine in a forest holds no terrors if you run past it looking the other way, I had told myself, but such was not to be. This, undoubtedly, was the reality of survival.
“Who am I working for?” said the shill tiredly, shifting his position. After sitting on stone that long, his bottom probably hurt—though whatever exhaustion he felt could be nothing compared to mine. “I’m losing my grasp of things. Whose side am I supposed to be on? Who’s hiring me?”
“I’ll hire you,” I offered. I needed every friend I could get. Besides, there was something I wanted him to do for me.
“And what are you trying to sell?” he asked.
“You know what it is, don’t you?” I said. “My position. Anyway, never mind that. Would you please bring down the encyclopedia in the bookcase upstairs?”