Authors: Kōbō Abe
“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.”
“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 internal 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?”
“Just tell me what you want to know. I’ll look it up for you.”
“No—I want to pile it up and sit on it. My knee can’t hold me up much longer.”
“Five or six volumes enough? Seven would do it for sure, I guess,” he said, and trotted up the stairs.
The adjutant opened a large notepad and drew a line with a felt pen. He marked it off at regular intervals, adding numbers. “Excuse me, sir. Allow me to explain briefly the daily routine. Work ends at 0430 hours. Then showers and baths, then chorus.”
“Chorus means the martial songs,” stuck in Sengoku.
“That’s right. You know—‘Here we bide, hundreds of miles from home, in far-off Manchuria …’ ”
“I don’t like it. Too jaded,” said the insect dealer, shaking his head.
“It’s a good song for quintessential castoffs,” said the shadow. “It expresses so well the heartfelt sadness of soldiers forced to die meaningless deaths.”
“It’s sad, all right—especially the part that goes: ‘My friend lies ’neath a stone in yonder empty field.’ ”
“Ah, but that’s not the line that gets to them the most. It’s ‘tears in my eyes.’ That’s the one place where they manage to sing in perfect unison.”
“Same difference.”
“At 0500 hours, everyone assembles in the mess hall.”
“Where’s that?”
“Starting today we’ll be using room number two, next door to here.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” I expostulated. “Who the hell said you could do that? Who do you guys think you are, anyway?”
“But the construction squad has already started transporting food and materials.”
“Look, Komono,” I said. “Just because you’re the new head of the Broom Brigade doesn’t mean you can do things like that.”
“Is it out of the question?” asked the adjutant, and went on swiftly in a well-rehearsed tone. “Oh, well, we could always switch to room number three, above the lift; about eighty percent of the items have been moved that far already. All the men are anxious to join the search squad in looking for the junior high school girls as quickly as possible. It has a direct bearing on morale.”
“Captain, would you mind leaving this up to me?” said the insect dealer. “It seems to me that in the middle of a confusing situation, changing everything around is only going to compound the confusion. I’m doing my best to work things out to everybody’s satisfaction… .”
Having anticipated a more convincing argument in his old, flowing style, I felt vaguely disappointed. If this was how he stood up to the adjutant, I feared the worst. How had he managed to secure the position of commander in so short a time, anyway? If it was solely by virtue of having shot and killed Inototsu, then they were no better than a pack of monkeys. To push Komono any further might only be playing into the adjutant’s hands.
Just then the shill came down the stairs, carrying the encyclopedia volumes piled on his shoulder.
“Besides,” I said, “I’ll have you know the room next door isn’t room number two, anyway. It has a proper name—the work hold.”
“I beg your pardon.”
The girl and the shill together piled up the volumes catty-corner behind the toilet, adjusting them to the proper height. Sengoku held me under the arms, helping me to sit down without putting any additional strain on my knee. Once I had endured a pain rather like that of stretching a sprained muscle, I did feel more comfortable. A wreath of mist swirled lightly around inside my head, like drowsiness. In my knee and the arch of my foot, it was as if electrodes had been implanted, sending out electrical current in rhythmic pulses. Slowly, very slowly, the current was gaining in strength.
“It won’t be long now,” said the adjutant, crinkling his eyes; the wrinkles in the corners looked as if they’d been pasted on. His shadowy existence was gradually fleshing out, beginning steadily to fill its proper share of space.
“Drugs may ease the pain, but they won’t solve the problem,” I said.
“For now at least let’s ease the pain,” said the insect dealer, with a wave and a smile. “That encyclopedia was a clever idea. It must feel a little better anyway, with your weight off the leg.”
“If he suggests knocking me out with drugs and then cutting off the leg,” I said, looking first into the shill’s eyes and then into the girl’s, and finally resting my gaze on Sengoku, “I want you to protect me. Don’t let them lay a finger on me, do you hear?”