Kojo Suzuki - Spiral

Those eyes. When he’d encountered her the other day at Mai’s apartment, she’d been wearing sunglasses. This was the first time he’d been able to see her eyes. Their gaze, full upon him, exerted a strong gravitational pull. He found it hard to breathe, and his chest pounded.

“Excuse me, but…” From the tone of her voice and her expression it was clear that she wanted to know his relationship with Mai.

“My name is Ando. Fukuzawa University Medical School.” He knew this didn’t exactly answer her question.

The woman stepped out of the elevator and, still holding the door open, motioned him in with her eyes. He had to obey. Her elegant movements left him powerless to refuse. As though enchanted, Ando entered the elevator in her place. They stared at each other again from their reversed positions.

“I’ll call on you soon with a request.”

She said this just before the door closed. Ando heard her clearly and there was no mistaking her words. The doors as they closed were like a camera shutter, removing her from his field of vision but leaving her image imprinted on Ando’s brain.

As the elevator descended slowly, Ando found himself overcome with uncontrollable lust. Mai had been the object of the first sexual fantasies he’d had since his family had ceased to be, but this was far more intense. He’d only been with the woman for a few seconds, and yet he could remember every detail of her body, from the curve of her ankles, bare above her pumps, to the corners of her eyes. And his image of her remained sharp, even as the moments passed. Flustered by the sudden flood of sexual desire, Ando rushed out of the building, hailed a taxi, and hurried home.

In the cab, he thought about the last words she’d said.

I’ll call on you soon with a request.

What was her request? Where did she mean to “call on” him? Was that supposed to be some sort of social pleasantry?

He’d rushed out of the building and into a taxi as if pursued by her gaze. He regretted not asking her for her name and number at least. Why hadn’t he? He ought to have waited for her to come down from the roof. But he hadn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t. It was as though his every movement had been controlled by that woman. He had acted against his will.

A week had passed since Mai’s autopsy. It was December, and the weather had suddenly turned wintry. Ando had never liked winter-he much preferred late spring to early summer-but ever since the death of his son he’d stopped paying much attention to the changing seasons. The morning’s drastic chill had forced him, nonetheless, to recognize the advent of winter. On the way to the university he’d stopped in his tracks several times to go back and get a sweater, but in the end he’d simply continued on his way. He didn’t feel like going all the way back, and the walking was warming him up.

His apartment in Sangubashi was close enough to the university that he could walk to work if he felt like it. And though he usually went by train, the transfer he had to make despite the short distance never went smoothly. As a result, and because he knew he needed the exercise, Ando sometimes ended up half-walking, half-jogging to and from work. The day had started out as one of those days, but halfway to campus he changed his mind and caught the JR train at Yoyogi Station. He wanted to get to the university sooner than later.

With just two stations to go, he didn’t have the time to organize his thoughts in the rocking cradle of the train carriage. This morning he was supposed to look at samples of Mai’s cells and Ryuji’s through the electron microscope. Miyashita was going to be there, as well as Nemoto, an electron microscopy expert. The thought of what lay ahead made Ando want to hurry.

Up until then, the smallpox-like virus hadn’t been found in anybody who hadn’t watched the video. There had been no reports of the virus being spread by physical contact. In Mai’s room he’d found a copy of the video, already erased. These two facts meant that if Mai’s blood cells revealed the presence of the virus, it would be safe to conclude that she had actually watched the tape. The calamity that had befallen her would have been the video’s doing.

He was so deep in thought that he almost missed his station, but he managed to jump off the train just before the doors closed. He allowed himself to be swept along with the rest of the crowd toward the ticket gates. The university hospital stood in all its grandeur right outside the station.

Ando poked his head into the lab, and Miyashita turned his ruddy face toward him.

“Finally he shows up!”

Miyashita and Nemoto had spent the previous week making preparations for today’s session with the electron microscope. A virus wasn’t something one could just pop into a microscope and take a gander at when the mood struck. There were a lot of things that had to be done first, applying a centrifuge, cell sectioning, and so on. The procedure was beyond the skill of a non-specialist like Ando. Given all the preparation it took, Miyashita could hardly wait for the moment. He’d been up since early morning getting ready.

“Lower the lights,” Nemoto said.

“Yessum!” replied Miyashita, who quickly turned them off. Although they’d completed the base sequencing some time ago, this was their first chance to see the virus directly, with their own eyes. The virus that had been found in the blood of Ryuji and possibly Mai.

Nemoto went into the darkroom alone and fixed the ultrathin section on the holder. Ando and Miyashita sat in front of the console, staring at the screen in utter silence. Though it was still blank, both men’s eyes were active as they chased mental images of what they would soon be seeing.

Nemoto came back and turned off the last overhead light. All set. Holding their breath, the three men watched the screen. Gradually, as the ultrathin section of cellular matter was illuminated by an electron beam, a microscopic world began to open up before them.

“Which one are we looking at?” Miyashita asked Nemoto.

“This is Takayama’s.”

The green pattern on the screen before them was a universe unto itself. A twist of a dial sent their field of view racing across the surface of the cells. Somewhere in there lurked the virus.

“Try increasing the magnification,” Miyashita instructed. Nemoto responded immediately, taking the machine up to x9000. Another pass over the surface gave them a clear view of the dying cells. The cyctoplasm gleamed brightly, while the organelles had collapsed into black clumps.

“Home in on the cytoplasm on the top right and increase the magnification.” As he spoke, Miyashita’s face caught the reflection of the dying cells’ mottled appearance and had the dull glow of a bronze bust. Nemoto increased the magnification to x16000.

“More.”

x21000.

“There. Stop.” Miyashita’s voice rose, and he shot a glance at Ando, who leaned forward so that his face was right near the screen.

There they were… swarms of them!

The strands writhed around in the dying cells like so many snakes, biting and clinging to the surface of the chromatin.

A chill ran down Ando’s spine. This was a new virus, the likes of which had never been seen before. He’d never seen the smallpox virus through an electron microscope, yet he did know it from medical textbooks. The differences between that and this were obvious at a glance.

“Oh my God.”

Miyashita sat there sighing, his mouth hanging open.

Ando understood the workings of the virus: how it was carried along inside the blood vessels to the coronary artery, where it affixed itself to the inner wall of the anterior descending branch and caused mutations in the cells of that area until they formed a tumor. What he couldn’t understand was how this virus he was looking at now could have been created via the victim’s consciousness. This virus didn’t invade the body from outside. Rather, it was born within the body as a result of watching a videotape; it was a function of the mind. That went beyond mysterious and Ando was dumbfounded. It represented a leap from nothingness to being, from concept to matter. In all earth’s history such a thing happened only once, when life first came to be.