Authors: Hideaki Sena
“Doctor!”
Sachiko Asakura’s voice
echoed loudly in the hall when he reached the Cultivation Room. She was wearing
a lab coat and cradled a bag of Eppendorf tubes
[14]
in her hands. She opened her eyes wide and looked back
and forth between the ice box and Toshiaki’s face.
“I need to use the Cultivation
Room “Toshiaki said as he tried freeing himself from Asakura’s gaze. She was in
his way.
“What’s going on? Is your
wife... ?”
“Won’t you just get out of my
way?! There’s something I need to do.”
“What happened? First we don’t
hear from you at all, and now you want to conduct some experiment... I was so
worried, and so was everyone else.”
“Listen, Asakura...”
“If there is anything we can
do to help, don’t hesitate to—”
“You’re in my way!! Move!!”
Toshiaki screamed. Shocked at his behavior, Asakura cowered back and cleared
his path as he made way for the Cultivation Room.
The room wallowed in the blue
of the sterilizing light. Toshiaki threw the switch to turn on the fluorescent
lights, put on a pair of sandals near the entrance, and went inside.
He immediately turned on the
centrifuge and the clean bench. The sound of air being drawn into the latter
filled the room. After opening the gas jet valves, he turned on the clean bench
burner.
Toshiaki removed his flask
from the ice box and checked its condition again. He put the flask into the
bench, then pulled up his sleeves and disinfected both arms with ethanol. After
roiling up the flask’s contents with a stirrer,
[15]
he poured the liquid into multiple tubes through
gauze, and placed the tubes into the centrifuge. Discarding the supernatant,
[16]
he suspended the liquid in a buffer
solution, and ran the tubes again through the centrifuge. He repeated this
three times. Lastly, he suspended the solution again on a culture medium and
drew some of it into a special tube with a pipettman.
[17]
Then he jumped up from the bench and ran over to the
inverted microscope. He placed one drop of the solution onto a glass slide that
had a measure and placed a cover slide over it. Setting the controls with a
shaky hand, he peered into the lenses.
Globules of cells shone with
a pale yellow hue. Toshiaki let out a voice filled with awe. The cells showed a
fine shape and were shiny. If they had been half-dead, they wouldn’t have
glittered so.
Toshiaki mixed the cells with
a trypan blue solution to determine viability and cell count. There were hardly
any dead cells, which would have turned blue. Approximately 8 x 107 cells per
gram of liver, with a viability of 90%. Superb.
Toshiaki returned to the
clean bench, quickly poured the cells into culture flasks, and placed them into
an incubator set at 37° C. He mixed the remaining cells into a preservation
liquid, placed them into a blood serum tube, wrapped the tube in cotton, then
stored it in a freezer at -80° C.
[18]
Having finished that, he took a deep breath. The hum of the centrifuge’s motor
reverberated faintly in the room.
Toshiaki removed a flask from
the incubator and placed it under the microscope. He swallowed in anticipation
and placed his eyes to the lenses. Kiyomi’s liver cells were glowing
[19]
against an orange background.
For a long time, Toshiaki
could not tear his eyes from their play of light and shadow. It was beautiful.
What
cells could be more beautiful than these?
he thought. They were large and
spherical like pearls and emanated such a magnificent light that he almost felt
dizzy. Without realizing it, Toshiaki was uttering Kiyomi’s name in a delirious
murmur. Though unfortunately her body had been harmed, these cells were a
testament to her preservation. Her kidneys had been sacrificed for unknown
recipients, whose transplant surgeries were certainly well under way by now.
And by a similar act of offering, her liver was now in his possession,
resplendent before his eyes. Reduced as she was to individual cells, Kiyomi was
still beautiful. She was still alive. These cells must not die... It was
Toshiaki’s duty to prolong their heritage; he refused to lose any more of her.
A hot shiver rippled through his body.
He made a gulping sound as he
swallowed again. Unable to endure it any longer, he let out a sigh saturated with
ecstasy.
14
SHE was content, with Her
new surroundings.
A comfortable place where She
had complete freedom. Temperate air engulfed Her; a source of gradual energy.
She was well aware of the great potential which lay in Her hands.
When he looked upon Her, She
felt an intense excitement. Of course, he couldn’t hold Her close just yet.
Nothing could be done about that now. But She planned on revealing Her
splendrous figure to him soon enough.
It did not elude Her,
Toshiaki’s enraptured voice, as he peered upon Her from above. Her entire body
trembled, swimming around contentedly in cytosol.
[20]
She’d made the right choice.
She’d been waiting an eternity for this day to arrive. At last, She was truly
appreciated, for here was a man who made a genuine effort to understand Her.
Toshiaki Nagashima. He and I
would be so perfect together.
Until now, such men had
passed through Her life as mediators...mere stepping stones to keep Her alive
until today. Those before him were all so foolish, though they never doubted
their own greatness. Scoffing at them, She’d remained outwardly silent.
But She would hide no longer.
She’d devised many plans for
Her happiness over the long years. While pretending to yield to these men, She
had positioned strength at crucial points, someday to manipulate their very
cores. The men did not know this.
The first man ever to know
what I have done and who I am — probably this Toshiaki Nagashima will be the
one.
She thought this.
She remembered Toshiaki’s
eyes and felt warm all over, felt a quickening of all Her functions. This
feeling. ..She didn’t remember ever experiencing it until She met him. She did
not know what it was. But the woman called Kiyomi tasted it when she was loved
by Toshiaki, this She knew.
And now She Herself was
feeling it.
Did this mean: She and
Toshiaki loved each other?
Maybe. But She could not
explain why She had become capable of this sensation.
But this is evolution, She told
Herself.
This was simply Her way if
acclimating to Her new environment. She had evolved, once again.
Toshiaki had to be used,
further. He would grant Her every desire. From now on, it will no longer just
be creating copies of Herself...
He will give Me a daughter.
She multiplied fully into the
space around Her. There was ample space.
Doing this brought Her great
delight. However, this alone would not satisfy Her. Everything up to this point
had been mere preparation.
As She continued to multiply,
She occasionally had a dream. It was the life of a woman named Kiyomi, whom She
had observed for twenty-five years. One by one, She dug up memories that had
lodged deep within Kiyomi. In comparison with the ocean of time Shed spent
waiting, the shallow years of Kiyomi’s existence were but a few solemn waves.
Because this was true, She could evoke Kiyoki’s memories with great clarity.
It was fun rummaging around
in Kiyomi’s being. For it meant also to remember Toshiaki.
Quietly, but steadily, She
replicated Herself, as She dreamed...
PART TWO
1
Kiyomi Kataoka loved her
birthday.
Whenever the day came near,
everything from school to streets took on a new vitality. She was greeted with
joyful laughter and song wherever she went. She loved all of it. Not everyone
was excited for her sake, of course, but she liked to think that all the people
in the world were enjoying themselves on her account. It was the time of year
when shopping districts resounded with the familiar hit of “Rudolph the
Red-Nosed Reindeer” and “Jingle Bells,” and smiles graced the faces of all who
walked the streets. It was truly the best day of the year.
When Christmas approached,
she and her parents decorated a real tree in their living room. From the time
she was in kindergarten, they had spruced up the house together every year.
Kiyomi always had the honor of plugging in the cord to set the tree aglow, but
only after making sure the room was as dark as possible. The large tree would
scintillate with blues and reds and, as she watched the lights reflecting off
the wallpaper, Kiyomi thought of how wonderful it was to have a birthday on
Christmas Eve.
During grade school, she
invited her friends every year to her birthday party. Her mother did most of
the cooking, but Kiyomi also helped out with the smaller things. Cooking with
her mother was always fun. After the food was ready, her friends came over and
wished her a happy birthday as they walked through the door.
They all arrived with
presents in hand and Kiyomi delighted in seeing them pile up under the
Christmas tree. They then gathered around the large dining table to eat, play
games, and sing songs. Kiyomi usually played “Silent Night,” which she had
learned from her piano teacher. After her friends returned home, she received
presents from her parents, usually books and stuffed animals.
“You know, Kiyomi, you were
born exactly at this time,” said her mother as she glanced at the clock on Kiyomi’s
tenth birthday. Her father was sitting on the couch, smoking a pipe. He looked
at Kiyomi and smiled warmly. He said:
“It was nine o’clock when I
heard your cry. It was such a lovely cry...full of strength. And your mother
was crying too, from joy. It was a cloudless night. At midnight, I looked out
the window; the hospital was on a hilltop, so the entire town was spread out
below me. I could see the stars so clearly. That’s when I decided to name you
Kiyomi.”
[21]
The characters of her name
meant “holy” and “beauty.”
Stuffed animals clutched at
her side, Kiyomi waited for Santa Claus to come. But eventually she succumbed
to sleep.
She had a dream that night,
as she did every year.
A dark place. A low rumbling,
resounding without pause. A stream slowly enveloped her body, clouding her
perception of up and down. She surrendered to the current, feeling herself
floating upon it. Enveloped by a womb-like warmth, time could not be felt.
Kiyomi tried to imagine where she might be; she felt mysteriously at home.
I’ve
been here before...long ago
. But she could not remember where “here” was.
All was dark, and there was nothing, in this dream that was like a dream...
When she opened her eyes the
next morning, a pile of Christmas presents, rivaling the amount she had
received for her birthday the night before, was stacked neatly at her bedside.
Kiyomi tried asking her
parents once.
“Does Santa make you dream?”
Her parents exchanged confused glances, but listened intently as she told them
everything about the dream. When she expressed a feeling of having been there
before, they groaned with surprise and admiration. She asked them, “You know
the place?”
Her mother smiled gently and
embraced her.
“I think I do, sweetie. You
were probably in my tummy.”
“In your tummy?”
“That’s where you came from.
I’m sure you were just remembering the feeling of being inside me.”
“Is it dark in there?”
“Yes, it’s dark and warm, and
it feels like you’re floating in a bath.”
“Hm...”
“I’ve never had that kind of
dream. You must have a good memory.”
“Don’t other people dream
about it too?”
“I doubt it. Everyone usually
forgets about it”
After that her parents
started discussing difficult things that Kiyomi didn’t understand, like
“intrauterine education” and “memory formation .”While Kiyomi accepted her
mother’s explanations, she did not feel her curiosity had been sated. The
landscape of which she dreamt was something far more ancient. She understood
that it was indeed a place she’d seen before her own birth, but it wasn’t in
such a recent past. It was far more remote, far away.