Кобо Абэ - The Ark Sakura

“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.