Кобо Абэ - The Ark Sakura

“This is just one small part.” Their stunned looks revived my spirits. “My preliminary surveys indicate there are at least eighteen other holds this size. In that wall over there to the right, past that row of storage drums, there’s a narrow opening between the pillar and the wall — see it? That’s the passageway to the next hold. And on the upper left over there, that area hollowed out like a terrace is my cabin. There’s another hole in there that you crawl through to reach another hold, and you see the place is actually a vast honeycomb of—”

“What’s that thing over there?” interrupted the shill, pointing his chin toward the left-hand wall. It scarcely needed pointing out; one’s eyes traveled there automatically, drawn by the gleam of white.

“That? That’s the toilet.”

“The toilet? You mean that’s the john? That’s where you go?”

“The design’s a little unusual, but the water pressure is terrific.”

“Doesn’t it feel a little strange taking a crap right out in the open like that?”

The girl clapped her hands. “Wow,” she said. “Listen to that echo.”

The insect dealer looked up, attentive to the reverberations. “If you tried singing in here, you’d sound like a pro,” he said.

“We’ll pay our passage, of course,” said the shill. “This is worth a lot. Nobody’s asking for a free ride. We’ll talk it over with you and pay a fair price.” He moistened three fingers and rubbed them on his forehead as if performing some magic rite, then added as an afterthought, “Before I forget it, Komono, you still owe me my fee for sales promotion.”

Ignoring this, the insect dealer bent down to inspect the stairs. “There’s nothing rotten here,” he said. “It’s all in perfect shape.”

I grabbed his elbow and pulled him back. “Watch out! It’s a trap. This way down, over here.”

The ladder was propped up in such a way that it could easily be mistaken for part of the scaffolding. I started down first, and immediately regretted not having let the insect dealer take the lead. Too late. The shill came striding over, heels clicking on stone; he grabbed the ladder and began to shake it.

“So that’s the way it was, eh? You knew about the danger all along and did nothing to warn us. It’s your fault the young lady got hurt.”

My position was highly disadvantageous. Was he planning to use violence? In any case, it wouldn’t do to betray weakness.

“I had no obligation to warn you of anything. You, sir, are in the wrong for breaking and entering.”

The insect dealer leaned down from above the ladder, showing rodentlike teeth. “All right, you two,” he said. “Break it up. In any quarrel, both sides are at fault.”

“This isn’t a quarrel,” said the shill. What was that supposed to mean? He went on shaking the ladder. “I’m just trying to help. Two injured people is enough. We certainly wouldn’t want anything to happen to the captain.”

The girl tossed in an irrelevant remark. “Is the stone in these walls really blue, or does it just look that way?” Sitting all alone in the center of the vast stone room, arms clasped around one knee, she was as conspicuous as a tin can in the center of a soccer field. I’d heard that the female sex took cold easily; would she be all right, sitting directly on the cold stone floor all this time? If her ankle was sprained, there wasn’t much else she could do. I found her pose unbearably provocative.

“It really is blue,” I told her. “That’s why it’s called waterstone. Maybe you’ve heard of it. When it’s polished it shines like marble, but the shine doesn’t last long. When it dries out, the surface turns powdery.”

The shill let go of the ladder and stepped back, adopting a neutral stance. The insect dealer started down the ladder, calling out to the girl as he descended:

“How are you doing? Pain any better?”

“No,” she shouted back.

His feet were almost to my head. There were still three rungs below me, but I jumped to the floor. The shock of landing was translated into bunches of needles hammered into my knee; I staggered, and the shill held me up. The insect dealer slipped past me with a smile and a pat on the shoulder, heading straight for the girl.

“How’s that ankle?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you want to see a doctor?”

“I can’t walk.”

“There’s a jeep right outside.”

The shill cut in impatiently, “Her bone’s broken, you know. Just how do you think she’s going to climb the ladder and hang on to the rope?”

“I’ll carry her piggyback. Fractures need attention fast.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” The shill made a noise in the back of his throat like a balloon popping. “You can’t climb a rope with someone on your back.”

“I used to be a member of the Self-Defense Forces. They trained us in that sort of maneuver. Besides, there won’t be any climbing; on the way back it’s all downhill.”

“You mean uphill.” The shill’s voice was thick with saliva; his voice quivered at the end of the sentence for lack of breath. “The way here was downhill, so they way back is uphill.”

“You mean to say you two climbed down to get here?” The insect dealer shot me an accusing look out of the corner of his eye. I grew flustered. “Where from?” he demanded.

“From the road overhead, of course.”

“You mean the town road?”

“Whatever. The one overhead.”

“There’s no rope there.”

“I brought my own.” He bent down under the staircase and picked up a bag like a photographer’s case. “See this?” he said. “I keep a set of essential tools in it.”

“What for?”

“Just in case.”

“I see.” The insect dealer nodded, drawing an X with his large head. “That explains how you got past the dogs.”

“But how did you find your way here?” I asked.

“I just showed that map to a taxi driver, and he brought us straight here.”

“A taxi driver?” Hold on, mustn’t get too excited. It would only amount to a display of weakness. “Well, that was a damn fool thing to do. That’s why I didn’t want to let you have a ticket in the first place. That’s the sort of person you are, I could tell. You wreck everything—”

“Calm down, please. All I did was show him the map.”

“That’s exactly what you shouldn’t have done.”

“The captain does have a point.” The insect dealer squatted down comfortably on the floor next to the girl. “The fewer people who know about this, the bigger each one’s share, after all.”

“It’s unpardonable. Hand me that ticket and get out of here right now.”

“But what about me? I’m hurt,” the girl said forlornly, looking up at the insect dealer, beside her.

The shill added deliberately, in a hard voice, “If a taxi driver is dangerous, I’m more so. I know too much — more than any cabbie. You can’t afford to throw me out.”

The silence that followed, though short, seemed interminable.

“What’s that smell?” murmured the girl.

There was a smell of some kind. I had already decided it was the scent of the girl’s body — but she would hardly react to that herself.

“Maybe it’s the bleaching power I use for disinfectant.”

“No. I have a very good nose. This is more like. burned soy sauce.

Simultaneously we three men began to stick our noses up and swing our heads around as we sniffed the air.

“Do you know, you’re right; I had squid with soy sauce for dinner yesterday.”

“Not spear squid, was it? The ones around here are fit for a king.” The insect dealer’s voice was eager, and he spoke with that twitch of the soft palate that comes when one is fondly recalling a particular taste. “Good raw too.”