by D. J. McCune
Hikaru poured the tea and Adam cringed, expecting the same cabbagey variety as last time. To his relief this one was different, a clear, pale green with a sweet fragrance. Maybe he hadn’t hidden his dislike as well as he’d thought. As if reading his mind Hikaru said, ‘Japanese tea is very fine but it is an acquired taste for some.’
Adam nodded. He took a scalding sip, feeling his tongue go numb and swallowing with an effort. What was he supposed to say now? He cleared his throat. ‘I … Thank you for allowing me to come here. I’m enjoying your country very much. If I can do anything to help you, please tell me. I could help you on a job?’ He cringed as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Help him? Help the High Luman of a whole country?
Far from seeming offended, Hikaru bowed gravely. ‘Thank you, Adam. Your offer is most kind. But, as our guest, you should enjoy your stay in peace.’ He paused. ‘In truth, our culture is somewhat different. There is a preference here for an older Luman to guide people into their Lights. It gives people a sense of security. In addition, there is still a distrust of outside cultures, particularly for some of our older citizens.’
Adam bobbed his head awkwardly, feeling nothing but relief. He was off the hook. More importantly, he’d also seen how to steer the conversation around to the direction he needed it. ‘Do other Lumen help when there are big jobs though? Like, when something really major happens?’
Hikaru nodded. ‘Of course, if necessary. However, we have many fast-response Lumen. Our country is very beautiful but compared to your Kingdom, our natural placement is more … volatile.’
Adam pressed him. ‘You mean you get earthquakes and things?’
‘Hai.’ Hikaru poured more tea into Adam’s cup, then nodded his thanks as Adam refilled his cup in return. ‘We have many earthquakes. Most are small but larger earthquakes do occur and in the past they caused great numbers of deaths. Happily today building methods have improved and casualties are fewer both in number and frequency.’
Adam hesitated. If he asked the next question, Hikaru would be sure to remember it in a few days when the worst happened. Still, if Adam wasn’t going to intervene, it wouldn’t matter. It would just be a curious foreigner asking about a very real risk of Japanese life. ‘And what about earthquakes at sea? The ones that cause tidal waves?’
‘Tsunami. This is what you are speaking of, hai?’ Hikaru fell silent for a moment, holding the porcelain cup delicately between his fingertips and sipping his tea. ‘Our country has been devastated by these waves in the past. You have seen the famous Ukiyo-e prints?’ He stood and moved to the bookcase on the wall, pulling out a heavy hardback book with an ornate fan on the cover. He knelt at the table once again and turned the pages until he found what he was looking for, then slid the book across to Adam. ‘Dozo. Please look.’
Adam stared at the drawings, recognition flaring. He had seen these kinds of pictures on clothes and posters in some of the indie shops round Flip Street. He knew they were famous, the simple, graceful woodblock prints of fishermen, their tiny boats rising up on the curling tips of vast waves.
Hikaru was pointing at one picture. ‘This picture is called “The Great Wave”. It is by a very famous Japanese artist called Hokusai. Many people think it shows a tsunami when in fact it is simply a large wave in the open sea. Tsunami means harbour wave. It is not a tidal wave because it is not caused by the ebb and flow of tides. It is, as you rightly say, the result of an earthquake beneath the sea floor. As the great plates push together, one slips and rises up, displacing the water on the surface. As the water rushes towards land, the speed and force creates not just one wave but many waves, much more powerful than any normal wave. In the open sea the wave will not be felt but when it reaches land, it can be … disastrous.’
‘Do they happen often?’
Hikaru shook his head. ‘I am thankful that large tsunamis are rare.’
Adam knew he had to ask one more thing, even though he quailed at the thought. ‘And is there any way of knowing when they will happen?’
Hikaru studied him in silence for what felt like a long time. ‘I am not sure what you are asking me, Adam Mortson.’ His voice was subtly different; cautious and harder-edged. ‘We have no Seers in this Kingdom and even if we had, they would of course not intervene in these events.’
Adam blinked, thinking fast. So Hikaru knew the rumours from the Kingdom of Britain. He knew there was an investigation. And now Adam had made himself a suspect. He breathed in slowly, trying to keep his voice even. ‘Of course not. But I mean, is there some science stuff that can help? Can it predict these earthquakes?’
Hikaru watched him carefully, then put down his tea cup soundlessly. ‘Nothing can predict an earthquake, Adam. But there is a monitoring system at sea, to warn coastal areas. When a large earthquake occurs in these areas the alarm system activates and tells people they must move to higher ground, away from the shore. I do not understand the workings of this system but it has undoubtedly saved many lives. As for those who are not saved … they are the only ones we need be concerned with. For it is the dead we help, not the living.’
When he finished speaking Hikaru stood up smoothly. Adam understood that their meeting was at an end and struggled to his feet without any of Hikaru’s grace. They walked to the sliding glass door and Adam slipped his feet back into his boots. He turned back to Hikaru and bowed. ‘Thank you for having me.’
‘Enjoy your remaining time in our country, Adam. Make the most of your vacation from Luman life. All too soon your time here will be over and you will return to your own Kingdom, ready for work.’
Adam nodded and turned back into the darkness. As he walked away from the house he grimaced. He’d heard Hikaru’s message loud and clear behind the politeness.
Don’t interfere in things, Adam. Save your troublemaking for your own Kingdom.
Chapter 21
dam swooped back to the theatre without incident. There was a hairy moment when he emerged from the toilet cubicle and found himself face to face with The Bulb. He looked even more bull-necked than usual this close. ‘What are you doing here, Mortson?’
Adam stared at him. Was he really supposed to answer that? A tickle in his nose gave him a bolt of inspiration. He raised his fingers and pulled them away smeared with blood. ‘Nosebleed, sir. I thought it had stopped but it hasn’t.’
The Bulb stared at him with the kind of look normally reserved for squashed dog mess on the underside of a favourite shoe. ‘Well, get a tissue, you idiot!’
‘Yes, sir,’ Adam muttered. He grabbed a few squares, thankful that this toilet actually provided some toilet roll. He reached the door into the auditorium just as everyone else began streaming out. It was easy enough to lurk at one side and slip into the crowd as though he had never left his seat. He waited with the rest of his classmates until his friends appeared.
Archie was scowling while Spike and Dan were sniggering. It turned out that Archie had been drooling over one of the dancers, unaware that he was watching kabuki and that the ‘hot babe’ he was admiring was actually a man dressed as a woman. He had apparently given a fairly detailed account of what he would like to do with ‘her’ after the performance. Judging by the grin on Dan’s face this was the highlight of his trip to date.
Adam tried to pretend that he was just as entertained by the whole thing but his head wasn’t really there. He went straight to bed when they got back to the hostel, ignoring the chorus of derision. Lying on his bunk he felt torn. He wanted to go and hang out with everyone else in the lounge. He was supposed to be enjoying himself, not having freakish premonitions. He had a whole lifetime of Luman crap to look forward to. Couldn’t he just enjoy his last few weeks of freedom?
He couldn’t intervene in the tsunami. He knew he couldn’t. So why was he even thinking about it? Hadn’t he caused enough harm last time he’d messed about? All right, most of that was down to Morta and her psychopathic need to kill as many random people as possible – but he should have learned his
lesson. Intervening to save people seemed like a good idea but you had no way of predicting the consequences down the line. Not to mention the more immediate consequences for himself and his family, especially his father. Darian would do whatever he could to take everything from Nathanial, not excepting his life and his wife. Why did Adam keep giving him opportunities on a plate? Not this time.
And yet, even though it was crazy, Adam found himself calling the vision to mind as he drifted off to sleep. It was a time when his mind would be most relaxed and open; the perfect time to get more information. The perfect time to go a little deeper into what was going to happen.
And then he was there again, on the slope overlooking the processing plant. The sirens were already blaring and workers were flooding past without seeing him. They were running for high ground as if they knew what was going to happen but there wasn’t enough warning. Some of them were going to make it to safety but the last group wouldn’t. He’d already seen what happened to them. Now he needed to know when it was going to happen.
He ran out of the yard, ignoring the safety of the steep slope up to the white building. Instead he turned left out of the gate and ran until he found a street that pointed downhill towards the sea. He stuck to the pavement, weaving and bobbing between people and cars, even though he wasn’t there. The street was long and winding but after thirty seconds of flat-out sprinting he reached the main road. He looked frantically to the left and right, eyes searching – until there it was, a flat black sign bearing bright red digital numbers, hanging outside some kind of electronics store. He stared at the sign, willing the display to change from temperature to time.
Everyone else was running in the opposite direction, trying to get to higher ground, but there wasn’t enough time; he knew it. People were fighting their way into the tallest buildings or trying in vain to get up the street away from the water, hidden behind the buildings on the other side of the road. It was all happening too fast. ‘Come on,’ Adam muttered, not looking at the street, not looking at the shore, watching the clock, watching the clock, waiting, waiting for the numbers to change.
And then the water erupted into the street. He turned; he couldn’t help it. The speed and the force were astonishing down here. The water seemed alive, pouring towards him from all directions. Cars were picked up, still with their passengers inside, moving towards him, converging. I’m not here, I’m not here, I’m not here, he told himself again and again, trying to overcome his gut instinct to bolt for safety. He turned back to the sign and it flashed in his face: 11:08.
He woke, sweating, a second before the debris hit.
Adam barely slept that night, although he pretended to when the other three returned to the room. Once the light was out, he lay in the darkness, listening to his friends breathing and snoring peacefully around him. His body was rigid with the horror of what he’d seen.
He had seen pictures of tsunamis before, on TV programmes about disasters. Somehow though, they hadn’t captured the full horror of seeing the water hurtling towards you. How did it move so fast? And worse, it didn’t even look like water any more; just a terrible black wall of filth and cars and debris, all of it huge and inanimate and lethal. Even as he stood there in the vision, he had seen how many people weren’t going to make it – and that was just within his view. Hachimana was only one small coastal city. A tsunami could stretch for hundreds of miles along a coastline, affecting dozens of towns and villages.
It was obvious that the sirens only sounded a few minutes before the water hit. How could people get away in time? They might even mistake it for a drill at first, or think it was just a precaution – although in a country accustomed to tsunamis, most people would probably take it seriously. But even so, there just wasn’t enough time. They needed more warning.
And now, here he was, lying safely in his bed and knowing this was going to happen and not knowing what he was going to do about it. He felt sick. It wasn’t fair. No one should have the burden of this kind of knowledge if you weren’t allowed to do anything about it. This wasn’t like the bomb – there was nothing he could do to prevent it. All he wanted was a way to give people a fair chance to get out.
As dawn crept round, Adam struggled to think up a plan. He imagined, for a moment, presenting himself to the Japanese authorities and telling them what was going to happen. How would they react? Lock him up? Tell him he was wasting police time and hand him over to The Bulb? Hikaru would hear about it (he had no doubt the Japanese Luman was keeping a discreet eye on him) and then when the tsunami struck he would realise he was dealing with a Seer. He wouldn’t be the only Luman interested in a British Seer. Adam might as well hand himself over to Darian and the Concilium right now.
Going public was another way. He could find a TV station, turn up there, tell them some story about being a boy prophet. Only, would they believe him? If they didn’t Hikaru would know and the same scenario would unfold. If they did believe him he would probably be locked up in a laboratory somewhere and studied like a rat. He would be exchanging one prison cell for another. And even if Darian would find it harder to come for him, he wouldn’t hold back from trying to destroy Nathanial.
When Fenton came round and banged their bedroom door, Adam lay in his bunk, pretending to be asleep. He couldn’t face another day, pretending to be normal. He waited till his friends went down for breakfast. For a moment, he was tempted to just go. He could take his stuff, swoop home and tell his father everything. He wouldn’t save anyone from the tsunami and he would cause all kinds of trouble for his teachers but at least he wouldn’t have to stand and watch hundreds of people die right in front of him when he could have saved them.
Adam sighed and climbed down from his bunk. One day at a time, he thought. Don’t do anything crazy. Just take one day at a time.
He didn’t eat much at breakfast; the thought of filling his stomach with rice and miso soup only intensified his nausea. After the meal they walked to the nearest JR station. The girls in their year and the female teachers were already at the station, waiting. So was Kenai, accompanied by three more of Murai’s smiling minions. Today they were splitting into four groups going to different places: an art gallery, a cookery demonstration, the RPG Exhibition and the Supercomputer Convention.
The Supercomputer Convention was in Shibuya, a convenient Metro ride away. Their group split into several parties, with only Mr Fenton willing to accompany the role players to the RPG Exhibition. Dan had a newfound adoration of Fenton. It probably helped that he had a different form tutor. Archie had gone with him, in the hope of seeing Japanese girls dressed up like manga characters.
Kenai was accompanying the elect band of computer geeks to the convention. On the way, he explained Murai’s involvement in the whole thing. Spike was hanging on Kenai’s every word but Adam barely listened. He stood in the packed train, holding on tight to the loop hanging down from the ceiling, feeling dizzy and detached.
He staggered along behind the rest of his group, not really noticing his surroundings. He didn’t care about computers, or not in the way that Spike did. The only reason he had picked the convention was because the art gallery would make him think sad thoughts about Melissa, the food would make him feel even more sick and he couldn’t face stepping into the alternate universes of the RPG Exhibition. Things were weird enough in his head without frolicking through all the costumes.
Still, it was impressive here. They paused outside the station and Kenai gave them a moment to take photos. As the traffic lights changed hundreds of people swarmed across the pedestrian crossing. Adam watched through filmy eyes. That was the thing about Japan – there were so many people. If an earthquake struck, or a tsunami, or a typhoon, so many people were crammed on top of each other. If the earthquake was going to be big enough to cause a tsunami further up the coast, would it bring down buildings in Tokyo? Would people die here too? He wasn’t getting any premonitions but then maybe the scale of the tsunami was blocking out all the other people who woul
d be affected. At least Tokyo had strict building controls to avoid buildings collapsing.
The Bulb was in excellent form but he seemed nervous too. He bombarded Kenai with questions, most of them about the male toilets at the convention. Kenai was looking increasingly baffled by the interrogation. Spike smirked. ‘The Bulb thinks he’s meeting the Sensai here, in one of the toilets. He’s going to be spending a long afternoon checking out the facilities.’
The convention was happening in one of the skyscrapers near the station, spread across one vast floor. Kenai signed their group in, got them passes to put round their necks and led them into the main exhibition hall. Every inch of space was dotted with people or computer equipment. White partition walls were covered in screens, displaying the latest computers and software from all over the world. The whole room was buzzing with animated conversation in dozens of different languages.
Spike looked like he was about to pass out. He elbowed Adam in the ribs hard enough to hurt. ‘Do you know who that is?!’ He was nodding and hissing in the direction of a thin man with thick glasses. He looked a bit like one of the science technicians in school. His name meant nothing to Adam, much to Spike’s disgust. He launched into a long list of the man’s achievements but cut it off when Kenai told them their meeting point and time and offered to give them a tour.
Most of the diehards followed him eagerly. Adam was left with the other stragglers who hadn’t known what else to do with their day. He knew a few of them but he didn’t want to get into conversation with them, especially the girl with the blonde hair who kept shooting him evil looks. He knew she was one of Melissa’s friends and decided now was a good time to make himself scarce.
At first, he tried to get out into the street but a stern-faced security guard told him that his pass would be revoked if he left the building. Frustrated, he went back into the exhibition space. The noise, the glossy partitions, the bright lines of code and geometric patterns on the monitors … It was all like some horrible conspiracy to make him feel even worse than he already did.
