David Peace - Occupied City

The city is a market, a black market, a stock market, a free market. And I run this city. I rule this city. For I built this city. From ash, through wood, to concrete, steel and glass –

Rise up Tokyo! Rise up Nippon!

You are not ash. You are not wood. You are concrete, steel and glass. I have dragged you out of the ash, through the wood to be here now, in concrete, steel and glass –

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Beneath skies crossed and matted grey with your tangled strings, across grounds crawling and stained with your severed strings, you are all puppets. But I am no puppet –

I have cut my strings!

From Defeated and Ruined City, Surrendered and Occupied City, to Olympic and Future City, in less than twenty years –

THIS IS MY CITY …

MY CITY!

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IN THE OCCUPIED CITY, in Mejiro town, in a wooden building, in an upstairs office, tap-tap, knock-knock, bang-bang, ‘Who’s there?’

‘Boss, boss!’ pants my best puppet. ‘They’ve robbed the Teikoku Bank up by the Nagasaki Shrine. They’ve killed all the staff. Police everywhere, all over the place, all over the town …’

I look up from the cards. I look up from the die. I say, ‘This is my town. No one robs a bank in my town. No one murders its staff. Not in my town. So you find out who did this …

‘And you bring them to me …

‘And you do it now!’

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Tap-tap, knock-knock, bang-bang, ‘Who’s there?’

In a bunk in China, I am a soldier. I wake. I rise. Step by step. I rob. I rape. I kill. For Dai Nippon, for the Emperor –

Fight! Fight! Fight!

For you, for me –

Fight! Fight!

Spring, summer, autumn, winter, morning, afternoon, evening, and night — in all these times — Dust, mud, desert, jungle, field, forest, mountain, valley, river, stream, farm, village, town, city, house, street, shop, factory, hospital, school, government building and railway station — in all these places — Soldier, civilian, man, woman, child and baby, I kill them all and I get money and I get medals –

But these fields of slaughter, these forests of skeletons, they trade not in bravery, trade not in honour, they deal in luck, they deal in death; lucky soldiers and dead soldiers –

For the War Machine rolls on, never stopping, never resting, never sleeping, on and on, always rising, always consuming, always devouring. On and on, the War Machine rolls on, across the fields and through the forests, on and on, over looted house and over stripped corpse, on and on, and from severed hand into bloody hands, forever-bloody hands, money passes, money changes, money grows –

Lesson #1: dog kills dog.

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IN THE OCCUPIED CITY, in Mejiro town, in a wooden building, in an upstairs office, tap-tap, knock-knock, bang-bang, ‘Who’s there?’

‘It was a doctor,’ says the puppet in the uniform. ‘Or at least a man pretending to be a doctor. A public health official.’

I look up from the flowers on the cards, the spots on the die, and I say, ‘Describe this doctor to me …’

‘Aged between forty-four and fifty. About five feet three inches tall. Thin build with an oval face. A high nose and a pale complexion. Hair cut short and flecked with grey. He was dressed in a brown lounge suit, wearing brown rubber boots. He had a white armband on his left arm on which was written “LEADER OF THE DISINFECTING TEAM”. He had a raincoat over one arm and he was carrying a doctor’s bag …’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yes, he had two distinctive brown spots on his left cheek. The survivors also said he was a distinguished and intelligent-looking man with the air of an educated doctor.’

‘Do you have any suspects?’

‘No,’ he says. ‘Not as yet.’

‘Well then,’ I say, ‘let’s see if me and my men can’t jog a few memories, get you a few names, shall we?’

‘Thank you,’ he says with a low bow, my pills in his wooden hand, his paper money in mine.

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Tap-tap, knock-knock, bang-bang, ‘Who’s there?’

In a courtroom, in a dock, I am a criminal, a war criminal. I wake. I rise. Step by step. But I do not cry. I do not apologize. I do not speak. For Dai Nippon, for the Emperor –

Fight! Fight! Fight!

For you, for me –

Fight! Fight!

Spring, summer, autumn, winter, morning, afternoon, evening, and night — in all these times — Dust, mud, desert, jungle, field, forest, mountain, valley, river, stream, farm, village, town, city, house, street, shop, factory, hospital, school, government building and railway station — in all these places — Soldier, civilian, man, woman, child and baby, I appal them all and I get shunned and I get accused –

And they may hang me, they may jail me, they may pardon me, or they may release me, for their courts trade not in justice, trade not in truth, they deal in retribution, they deal in vengeance –

For the War Machine rolls on, never stopping, never resting, never sleeping, on and on, always rising, always consuming, always devouring. On and on, the War Machine rolls on, across the victors and across the losers, on and on, over justice and over injustice, on and on, and from innocent hand to guilty hands, forever-guilty hands, money passes, money changes, money grows –

Lesson #2: dog eats dog.

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IN THE OCCUPIED CITY, in Mejiro town, in a deserted factory, in a dark space, tap-tap, knock-knock, bang-bang, ‘Who’s there?’

‘But I don’t know anything!’ screams the beaten, bruised and naked puppet on the concrete floor. ‘I know nothing!’

‘That’s a great pity,’ I tell him, ‘because no one needs an ignorant man, do they? They are simply surplus to requirements. Human garbage, in fact. Waste …’

‘Please, please, please …’

‘And you know what we do with garbage and waste, don’t you? No you don’t, do you? Because you don’t know anything, you know nothing. Well then, I’ll tell you. We drive the garbage and the waste out of the city and we dump it in holes …’

‘Please, please …’

‘Deep holes,’ I tell him. ‘Because no one likes the sight or the smell of garbage and waste …’

‘Please…’

‘Next!’

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Tap-tap, knock-knock, bang-bang, ‘Who’s there?’

In a market, a black market, I am a gangster, a racketeer. I wake. I rise. Step by step. I steal. I sell. I steal things. I sell things. I make money. For Dai Nippon, for the Emperor –

Fight! Fight! Fight!

For you, for me –

Fight! Fight!

Spring, summer, autumn, winter, morning, afternoon, evening, and night — in all these times — Dust, mud, desert, jungle, field, forest, mountain, valley, river, stream, farm, village, town, city, house, street, shop, factory, hospital, school, government building and railway station — in all these places — Soldier, civilian, man, woman, child and baby, I exploit them all and I get money and I get respect –

I license the market stalls. I take money and I make money. I burn down rival markets. I take money and I make money. I set up gambling dens. I take money and I make money. I set up whorehouses. I take money and I make money. I get money –

For the War Machine rolls on, never stopping, never resting, never sleeping, on and on, always rising, always consuming, always devouring. On and on, the War Machine rolls on, across the strong and across the weak, on and on, over the satiated and over the starving, on and on, and from scared hand to scarred hands, scarred hands into top-pockets and back-pockets, fat back-pockets, money passes, money changes, money grows –

Lesson #3: dog steals another dog.

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IN THE OCCUPIED CITY, in Mejiro town, in the police station, in an upstairs office, tap-tap, knock-knock, bang-bang, ‘Who’s there?’