Jung-myung Lee - The Investigation

Thick furrows creased the director’s brow, but he continued to smile. He coughed. ‘I know. They’re not side-effects. We had fully anticipated these symptoms.’

I was stunned. ‘You expected that your patients would lose their memories and keep bleeding? So why are you continuing the treatment?’

The director’s face stiffened incrementally. His eyes glinted, cold and ruthless. ‘You’re Japanese, aren’t you?’ His voice was chilly.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then you must know what a great war we are waging. And how important it is to Japan’s legacy.’

‘Yes, sir!’ I’d heard this my entire life. After all, we’d been at war from the day I was born. With Russia, with China, with Mongolia, with Korea, with America, against regular armies and Communist forces and guerrillas. When one battlefront was vanquished, we moved on to yet another.

The director nodded. ‘My medical team is devoted to research. Just as you are devoted to our country. You handle prisoners for the glory of the Empire, and the doctors handle patients for victory.’

I felt nauseated, as though I had swallowed maggots. ‘How can that be for the victory of the Empire?’

‘We’ve been working hard to develop new treatments for our soldiers. We’re on the brink of developing great, life-changing medicine.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. But I know for a fact that the patients are experiencing side-effects from those treatments.’

‘Enough about that!’

‘People are dying off. What is going on in this infirmary?’ I shouted, unable finally to restrain myself.

Morioka’s gaze grew flinty.

I pressed on. ‘One record might be false. But the truth is disclosed by many others. I’m talking about the Diagnostic Referrals, the Autopsy Requests and the Infirmary Inspection Results.’

His face drained of blood. ‘You’re actually quite intelligent. Fine. I knew you were persistent, but if you figured that out, you’ll understand what we’re doing. I’ll tell you what you want to know.’ Morioka lowered his voice, as though to soothe a cranky child. ‘My medical team is in the process of developing revolutionary medical techniques. If we succeed, we can drastically lower casualty rates on the battlefield. This will be a new era for medicine.’

‘What are the techniques?’

‘We’re looking for a new substance that will replace blood. The war is getting more serious. Blood is what the injured need most. So many good soldiers haemorrhage to death on the battlefield. Even if they’re transported to the hospital on time, we have a severe shortage of blood for them. So we can’t operate. If we can substitute blood with something else, we can save thousands of soldiers’ lives. As well as civilians’.’

‘There’s a substance that could take the place of human blood?’

‘Blood is largely composed of plasma and blood cells. Of those, there are white blood cells, red blood cells and platelets. Plasma is mostly liquid and various proteins and blood-coagulation factors.’

I nodded.

‘Like I said, we don’t have enough blood. If the platelets, which are the most important component, could be manufactured, we can change the direction of the war.’ Morioka’s voice trembled.

My heart pounded. ‘So you’ve created blood?’

‘We’re in the process of developing a saline solution to substitute for platelets. It has similar sodium levels to bodily fluids and is composed of similar substances to platelets. Currently it’s used to replace fluids for patients who are ill or injured. We’re tinkering with the concentration of the saline. That’s what we’re using to develop a platelet substitute.’

‘But saline solution is basically salt and water,’ I murmured, frowning. ‘How can that take the place of blood?’

‘If one isn’t knowledgeable about medicine, like you, one would think that we are killing people, not saving them,’ the director said breezily. ‘That’s why we work under high security. Don’t worry. We’re reviewing all side-effects as we conduct experiments on human adaptation to varying saline concentrations, resistance to sodium concentrations and infections.’

‘But the side-effects are not diminishing.’

‘Well, I told you we’re still working on it. And we’re conducting detailed diagnostic checks to ensure that abnormal reactions are treated. You saw how we give arithmetic tests, right? That’s the best way to determine overall neurophysical function. We can instantly determine the effect of foreign substances in the subjects’ bodies.’

I finally understood everything. They were experimenting on people. I’d led unsuspecting Koreans to a laboratory of death. I could tell my face was flushed. ‘The Kyushu Imperial University medical team is conducting human experiments that kill healthy men! Now I get it. You came here because you needed people to experiment on.’

Morioka smiled. ‘I understand what you’re saying. You’re still young. Why, you’re not even twenty years old! Look, Yuichi. The world isn’t black-and-white. It’s tough and complicated. This research could save the lives of many, many soldiers. All the women and children dying in air raids.’

Tears coursed down my cheeks. I was ashamed and enraged. This wasn’t right. However lofty the cause, we couldn’t do this. We couldn’t toy with one person’s life, even if it benefited many more. I squeezed my eyes closed.

The director patted my shoulder gently. ‘Listen carefully, Yuichi. The people we need to save are the Empire’s soldiers and civilians. The people you’re crying over are Koreans who have committed very serious crimes. They’ve set fire to police stations. They have thrown bombs at the Emperor. They’ve cut Japanese throats. You know what I mean?’

I didn’t. How many people had to die? When would this all come to an end?

Morioka continued. ‘They’re evil spores growing in our society. Cancerous tumours taking over our bodies. They’ll eventually take our lives. Do you know what the treatment for cancer is? You cut it out. You remove it surgically. But the cancerous cells keep growing, damaging healthy cells and ruining the entire body. Who do we need to save? Should we let countless Japanese die, just to save some cancerous fellows?’

Time clattered into the deserted space around me. The golden pendulum of the grandfather clock swung mechanically, wrenching my heart with it. ‘Who are we to decide who gets to live and who ends up dead?’

‘You know this place is a graveyard for Korean prisoners anyway. So many die before they finish their terms. Don’t you think their lives would be put to good use if they could teach us something in death?’ Morioka smiled. ‘There’s no difference between a dying man and a dead man. I’m telling you, the prisoners are on their way to the grave anyway.’

Was he right? Could this terrible situation be even more complex than I thought?

It was loud inside the fabric workroom. The washing machines spun manically, the sewing machines clattered, the guards shouted, the prisoners grunted and moaned. Here, prisoners mended tattered military uniforms with bullet holes; their owners were probably no longer alive. I’d searched for a way to get Dong-ju out of the medical treatments, but as yet I hadn’t found a solution. The best I could do was move him to the dye-team, in charge of dipping cloth into the dye-baths. At least here he was indoors. As Dong-ju pulled a cart heaped with faded uniforms, a loud siren sliced through the shriek of steam; it was time for break. Dong-ju backed away slowly and squatted near the dye-bath. Other workers were collapsed in exhaustion near the window on the opposite side. The guards stood to one side, smoking and laughing.