Boris Akunin - Murder on the Leviathan

Illumination and purification did not come to me in a moment of spiritual and physical concentration, but when I was wretched, crushed and empty, when I was reduced to no more than the wrinkled skin of a burst balloon. But the dull clanking of those irons signalled my transformation. Suddenly I knew with a clarity beyond words that I am not I, but … No, that is not it. That I am not only I, but also an infinite multitude of other lives. That I am not some Gintaro Aono, third son of the senior counsellor to His Serene Highness Prince Simazu: I am a small and yet precious particle of the One. I am in all that exists, and all that exists is in me. How many times I have heard those words, but I only understood them … no, I only experienced their truth, on the 15th day of the fourth month of the nth year of Meiji, in the city of Bombay, on board an immense European steamship.

The will of the Supreme is truly capricious.

What is the meaning of this tercet that was born of my inner intuition? Man is a solitary firefly in the gloom of boundless night. His light is so weak that it illuminates only a minute segment of space; beyond that lie cold, darkness and fear. But if you turn your frightened gaze away from the dark earth below and look upwards (you need only turn your head!), you see that the sky is covered with stars, shining with a calm, bright, eternal light. You are not alone in the darkness. The stars are your friends, they will help you. They will not abandon you in your distress.

And a little while later one understands something else, something equally important: a firefly is also a star like all the others. Those in the sky above see your light and it helps them to endure the cold darkness of the universe.

My life will probably not change. I shall be the same as I was before - trivial and absurd, at the mercy of my passions. But this certain knowledge will always dwell in the depths of my soul, my salvation and comfort in times of difficulty. I am no longer a shallow puddle that any strong gust of wind can spill across the ground. I am the ocean, and the storm that drives the all-destroying tsunami across my surface can never touch my inmost depths.

When my spirit was flooded with joy at this realization, I recalled that the greatest of virtues is gratitude. The first star I glimpsed glowing in the blackness around me was Fandorin-san. Thanks to him I know that the world is not indifferent to me, Gintaro Aono, that the Great Beyond will never abandon me in misfortune.

But how can I explain to a man from a different culture that he is my onjin for all time? The European languages do not have such a word. Today I plucked up my courage and tried to speak with him about this, but I fear that the conversation came to nothing.

I waited for Fandorin-san on the boat deck, knowing that he would come there with his weights at precisely eight.

When he appeared, wearing his striped tricot (I must inform him that loose clothes, not close-fitting ones, are best suited for physical exercise), I approached him and bowed low in obeisance. ‘Why, Mr Aono, what’s wrong?’ he asked in surprise. ‘Why do you stay bent over and not straighten up?’ Since it was impossible to make conversation in such a posture, I drew myself erect, although in such a situation I knew that I ought to maintain my bow for longer. ‘I am expressing my eternal gratitude to you,’ I said, greatly agitated. ‘Oh, forget it,’ he said, with a careless wave of his hand. This gesture pleased me greatly Fandorin-san wished to belittle the significance of the boon he had bestowed on me and spare his debtor excessive feelings of gratitude. In his place any nobly raised Japanese would have done the same. But the effect was the reverse - my spirit was inspired with even greater gratitude. I told him that henceforth I was irredeemably in his debt. ‘Nothing irredeemable about it,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I simply wished to take that smug turkey down a peg or two.’ (A turkey is an ugly American bird whose pompous, strutting gait seems to express a risible sense of self-importance: figuratively speaking, a conceited and foolish person.) Once again I was struck by Fandorin-san’s sensitivity and tact, but I had to make him understand how much I owed to him. ‘I thank you for saving my worthless life,’ I said and bowed again. ‘I thank you three times over for saving my honour. And I thank you an infinite number of times for opening my third eye, with which I see what I could not see before.’

Fandorin-san glanced (it seemed to me, with some trepidation) at my forehead, as if he were expecting another eye to open up and wink at him.

I told him that he is my onjin, that henceforth my life belongs to him, and that seemed to frighten him even more. ‘O how I dream that you might find yourself in mortal danger so that I can save your life, as you have saved me!’ I exclaimed. He crossed himself and said: ‘I think I’d rather avoid that. If it is not too much trouble, please dream of something else.’

The conversation was turning out badly. In despair I cried out: ‘Know that I will do anything for you!’ And then I qualified my oath to avoid any subsequent misunderstanding: ‘If it is not injurious to the emperor, my country or the honour of my family.’

My words provoked a strange reaction from Fandorin-san. He laughed! I am certain that I shall never understand the redheads. ‘All right then,’ he said, shaking me by the hand. ‘If you insist, then by all means. I expect we shall be travelling together from Calcutta to Japan. You can repay your debt by giving me Japanese lessons.’

Alas, this man does not take me seriously. I wished to be his friend, but Fandorin-san is far more interested in Senior Navigator Fox, a limited man lacking in wisdom, than in me. My benefactor spends much time in the company of this windbag, listening attentively to his bragging of nautical adventures and amorous escapades. He even goes on watch with Fox! I must confess that I feel hurt by this. Today I heard Fox’s lurid description of his love affair with an ‘aristocratic Japanese lady’ from Nagasaki. He talked about her small breasts and her scarlet mouth and all the other charms of this ‘dainty little doll’. It must have been some cheap slut from the sailors’ quarter. A girl from a decent family would not even have exchanged words with this foreign barbarian! The most hurtful thing of all was that Fandorin-san was clearly interested in these ravings.

I was about to intervene, but just at that moment Captain Renier approached them and sent Fox off on some errand.

Oh yes! I have not mentioned a most important event that has taken place in the life of the ship! A firefly’s feeble glow blinds his own eyes, so that he cannot see his surroundings in their true proportions.

On the eve of our departure from Bombay a genuine tragedy occurred, a calamity beside which my own sufferings pale into insignificance.

At half past eight in the morning, when the steamer had already weighed anchor and was preparing to cast off, a telegram was delivered from ashore to Captain Cliff. I was standing on the deck looking at Bombay, the scene of such a crucial event in my life.

I wanted that view to remain engraved on my heart for ever. That was how I came to witness what happened.

The captain read the telegram and his face underwent a startling transformation. I have never seen anything like it! It was as if an actor of the Noh theatre had suddenly cast off the mask of the Fearsome Warrior and donned the mask of Insane Grief.

The old sea dog’s rough, weather-beaten face began to tremble. Then the captain uttered a groan that was also a sob and began pacing frantically around the deck. ‘Oh God,’ he cried out in a hoarse voice. ‘My poor girl!’ He dashed down the steps from the bridge, on his way to his cabin - as we discovered later.