Paprika (33 page)

“Who’s this ‘we’ you keep going on about? Would it be you and your gay lover?” Atsuko countered with a smile. “I wonder if he’s at work yet. There’s something I want to ask him.”

Osanai blushed slightly, but seemed well prepared for the moment when his relationship with Inui would be revealed. He quickly returned to the offensive. “See? If you keep them, all you’ll do is abuse them to pry into other people’s private lives. The Vice President will not be coming in today. Anyway, please give them back to us. You don’t have the faintest perception how dangerous they could be. What if they also had a function whereby not just the DC Minis themselves but other matter could also be brought back from a dream? That would be no joke at all.”

Indeed not, thought Atsuko. In that case, even virtual constructs that only exist in dreams could be made to materialize. Atsuko said nothing. Osanai and Inui may have discovered something while at the experimental stage; he may have been testing her to see if she knew about it.

“There seems to be some mistake here. I’m the one who wants the DC Minis back,” Atsuko said icily. “They’re not playthings for gay sex games. Come on. If you’re not going to give them back, please get out. I’ve got a lot to do.”

But Osanai wasn’t going to back down that easily. He turned at the door and grinned. “The Institute’s policy has changed. You’re no longer wanted here. I reckon you’ll be getting your notice soon.”

6

“So the DC Mini was temporarily reduced to the level of atoms or molecules or whatever, using a function built into the device itself, or possibly the latent psychic energy of the person wearing it, and was then resynthesized, more or less instantaneously, in another place, where someone else was wearing a DC Mini?” Noda said incredulously. “That’s amazing. It’s like something out of a science-fiction story. Teleportation, or whatever they call it.”

“That’s the only possible explanation.” Atsuko felt compelled to agree, although her only knowledge of teleportation came from
The Fly
, the science-fiction film based on George Langelaan’s story.

“I tell you, if PT devices hadn’t already been developed, we’d be falling around laughing at the idea,” Owada said with a groan. “I’m beginning to think we shouldn’t be surprised at anything Tokita invents from now on.”

“No, no. I think this function developed itself spontaneously, as a side effect,” said Atsuko. “It has nothing to do with treating schizophrenics, after all.”

“But anyway, it’s just too incredible. It’s quite literally unbelievable.” Ishinaka wiped the sweat from his brow. “Still, I suppose we shall have to believe it. Because it has actually happened. In reality.”

Chief Superintendent Konakawa, Superintendent Morita, Chief Inspector Yamaji, and Inspector Ube were also present. Inspector Saka was guarding Shima’s apartment. The presence of so many high-ranking police officers left the two directors in no doubt as to the gravity of the matter. Their hearts leapt with astonishment as they listened to Atsuko’s lengthy explanation of the situation so far.

“In that case, this affair can no longer be confined to the Institute,” said Owada, Chairman of the National Association of Surgeons and a man of eminently sound judgment. Now, at last, he understood the reason for the unduly large police presence.

“That’s true, but neither is it a problem we can make public,” said Konakawa. “The Vice President and his gang are banking on that.”

“All right, what about at government level? …” Ishinaka ventured.

“Personally, I think this is a case we should handle by ourselves,” Konakawa said decisively.

Ishinaka wasn’t stupid; even he could appreciate that the matter should be resolved under the cloak of secrecy. But there was an unmistakable air of fear about him. “So, what, in fact, are you suggesting we should do?”

“That’s what we need to talk about,” said Noda.

The discussion moved to remedial measures. It continued for another four hours, until eight o’clock that evening. Not that they’d made any particularly important decisions in that time. They had merely decided some basic principles for the time being; after all, they had no way of knowing how things would develop from now on. Inui would almost certainly call an urgent Board Meeting to solidify his own position. All in attendance agreed that the meeting should be opposed on grounds of Shima’s and Tokita’s absences due to illness. They also considered explaining the situation to as many of the trustees as possible, thereby trying to win their support. Such an approach promised little, however, since they wouldn’t be able to explain the whole truth to them.

Owada left for Shima’s apartment on the same floor, guided by Chief Inspector Yamaji, to examine both Shima and Tokita there. Noda and Ishinaka went to have dinner in the restaurant. They had other business to discuss anyway. Konakawa and Morita returned to the Metropolitan Police Department. Ube went to grab a bite to eat, promising to return soon.

Atsuko cooked some spaghetti and opened a can of seafood, which she stir-fried in sesame oil while blending in the pasta. She made extra portions for Saka and Ube to eat later that night. Noda had brought several cans of the seafood with him, explaining that Atsuko would probably be eating at home more often from now on. He’d arranged for the cans to be prepared specially by a hotel chef he knew. Ube returned just as Atsuko had finished a simple meal of seafood spaghetti and potage soup.

“Will you be treating Mr. Tokita now?” Ube asked as he joined Atsuko for coffee. He looked at her with the keen eye of a young man.

“Yes. I appreciate your being here. I have to go into semi-sleep to carry out the treatment, so I’ll be completely defenseless then.”

“Semi-sleep?” Ube looked puzzled. “Can you make yourself do that?”

“It comes with practice. And seeing another person’s dream itself has a soporific effect.”

“So you mean, you can go to sleep anywhere you like and wake up any time you like?” Ube said with some envy. “We could do with that in the force. Then we could take routine naps while keeping watch on someone.”

Atsuko laughed. “It doesn’t work like that. When it’s just for myself, I have a lot of trouble getting to sleep sometimes.”

“And isn’t there a danger that, once you’re inside someone else’s dream, you could fall fast sleep?”

“That’s a big danger. It takes a lot of skill. If my reason starts to feel hazy while I’m in a patient’s dream, I have to wake up immediately. Then again, with the DC Mini …”

Atsuko stopped short. She’d suddenly remembered something that had bothered her during the conversation with Osanai earlier that day. Did the DC Mini have the effect of making the wearer sleep more deeply? The previous night, in her half-sleeping thoughts, she’d been briefly struck by a sense of danger, as if she was falling into a deeper sleep. Even Osanai had been unable to wake up when he wanted to, and he should have been quite adept at using the DC Mini. He thought he’d woken up, but in fact was only dreaming that he had. If this was a side effect caused by anaphylaxis, it would mean that using the DC Mini over the long term could be extremely dangerous. Were Inui and Osanai aware of that?

“Is something the matter?” Ube asked to interrupt Atsuko’s thoughts.

“No,” she replied quickly with a shake of the head. At the moment, it was nothing more than a suspicion. It would have to be confirmed before she could share it with anyone.

Atsuko went into the bedroom. Tokita was still sleeping like a baby. She had fed him some rice soup just before meeting the others. Eating only twice a day might help him lose some weight, but a lack of exercise could make him even fatter, since he was generally inclined toward obesity. Atsuko fitted the gorgon on Tokita’s head. Without warning, the maternal affection she felt for him as a patient merged with her true love for him. She found herself kissing him on the cheek as she started the treatment, aided by the DC Mini.

Atsuko was well acquainted with Tokita’s habitual dreams. But they were difficult to distinguish from those of the equally geekish Himuro, which had been projected into his unconscious mind. Atsuko had no choice but to carefully isolate, one by one, the fragments that could clearly be identified as Himuro’s. If the Japanese doll appeared, she would replace it with machine tools, Tokita’s obsession; if an infantile computer game, PT devices. Luckily, Tokita lacked Himuro’s sweet tooth. Whenever candy or chocolate bars appeared, Atsuko replaced them with grilled aubergine in sweet
miso
paste, or grilled fish, or some other dish Tokita loved, and was thus able to remove the offending elements immediately. Atsuko started to feel as if she’d reached a turning point in Tokita’s treatment. It was already past midnight.

Tokita seemed to have returned to his own dreams at last. From a window on the third floor of a building, Tokita and Atsuko were looking down at a vast railway marshaling yard. In the yard were various locomotives, including a diesel engine with a particularly nasty face. Atsuko was familiar with it, as it appeared to have some antipathy toward Tokita. It always chased him obsessively in his dreams.

“Oh, look. There it is again. Over there!”

Atsuko giggled as she pointed at the engine. Tokita looked scared and made a pitiful whining noise. For him, that diesel locomotive was something deadly serious, something that stirred up a fear akin to madness in his dreams. But that fear was an integral part of Tokita himself; the more he could feel it, the stronger his self-awareness would become.

The locomotive glared at Tokita with eyes turned upward, jumped the rails, cut diagonally across another set of rails that ran parallel to them, and came rushing toward the bottom of the building.

“It’s all right,” said Atsuko. “We’re too high up for it to hurt us.”

Tokita had thought the same thing. But he also suspected that things wouldn’t turn out quite as he thought; Atsuko knew they wouldn’t.

As expected, the diesel engine started clambering up the outer wall of the building.

Tokita groaned. He was screaming inside.

“Oh dear, here it comes. Let’s run away!” Atsuko took Tokita’s hand and ran with him toward the back of the building. “Don’t look around!”

If he had looked around, he would have seen the locomotive coming in through the window.

“But I’m going to turn in the end.” The extremity of the situation caused Tokita to utter his first words. The security of having Atsuko beside him must have helped. It was a good sign.

The two turned together. What they saw was a broad Alpine pasture. They were standing on the terrace of a mountain cabin, with a handrail separating them from the Alpine scene. Side by side on a bench in front of the handrail sat Seijiro Inui and Morio Osanai.

“Ah. Our good friend Mr. Tokita,” said Osanai, smiling as he rose. “So it’s not Mr. Shima tonight, then.”

“So you’ve come to interfere again?” Atsuko was instantly transformed into Paprika, and stood in front of Tokita to protect him. Paprika’s character was more suited to aggression.

As she spoke, Paprika became aware, albeit momentarily, of something strange in the landscape behind Inui and Osanai. Black objects were dotted around the pastoral scene. They appeared to be ordinary, everyday objects, which seemed to be coming closer. What could they be? Atsuko remembered the scene from a patient’s dream.

“Which of us is interfering here?!” Osanai replied with a wry smile, whereupon Inui stood up slowly. He was dressed in the ostentatious robes of a barrister, and looked down at Tokita and Paprika from a lecturer’s podium. His appearance certainly had an overpowering effect on the two. After all, Inui had been a professor at the university where they’d both graduated. But the content of Inui’s lecture was utterly banal – perhaps because he was more or less asleep.

“Isn’t it a ****** that should be used for the good of all humanity? This is surely the perfect *****. We should strive to discover a method whereby we may all understand each other, using the collective subconscious of the whole human race, joined together through our dreams.”

“Gosh. How very Jungian, Professor,” Paprika mocked. “How very
last century
.”

Inui’s face was contorted with rage. He even seemed close to waking up.

“Silence!” he roared. “Insolent girl! Delinquent trollop!”

The high ceiling of the vast lecture hall started to collapse with a puff, like a crumpled paper ball. Tokita cried out. Peering through a gaping hole in the ceiling was the face of a gigantic Japanese doll, the size of an advertising balloon. It had expressionless black eyes on an oddly featureless white face. Tokita started to wail like an infant.

But Atsuko had already removed the elements of Himuro’s dreams. The appearance of this Japanese doll must have been a conspiracy by Inui and Osanai to make Tokita’s condition regress. Atsuko’s finger pressed the key to isolate Tokita’s dream from the collector.

“So who’s interfering now?!” Paprika shouted at the same time.

But Inui and Osanai were motionless, their expressions and movements fixed like frozen images. It was almost as if they were rigid with fear. Perhaps they’d been startled by the sudden change of scene. They were in a desperately bleak landscape, surrounded by a deserted housing estate. Plastic buckets full of rubbish lay scattered along a road. There was no sign of life. The air and colors were funereal. Most of the windows were broken, and from each broken window a Japanese doll showed its pale white face, smiling inanely with both arms held aloft. A huge image of Buddha, at least ten meters tall, sat in an open space in the middle of the estate. It too was smiling while nodding continuously.