Then there’s possibility two.
In this case, there are no alternate dimensions. Which means if humans were to look inside the smallest unit (which would be impossible, but let’s imagine they did anyway) all they’d see is a black expanse. If they looked harder, they’d see something that looked a bit like light. What I’m saying is, I wonder if they wouldn’t see something that looks exactly like this universe. It sounds quite a bit like a fairy tale, doesn’t it? When they looked inside this miniature world, they’d see their own universe. How would they react? They would probably be moved by the weirdness of this world. Or maybe they’d tremble in fear.
Another reason I believe the universe is too perfect for humans is that there are these two possibilities.
Possibility one.
Unfortunately, in this case there’s a chance that everything’s a coincidence.
If we looked at our world on the atomic level, even our sophisticated human society would look like nothing more than atoms clumping together and separating. Everything would amount to nothing more than the continuous chemical reactions of atoms. In that case, even what we call life would be nothing more than these reactions, and one could go so far as to say it has no meaning.
Then there’s possibility two.
In this case there’s a chance that the combination of atoms in this world connects back to “a certain state.”
If we trace it all the way back to the beginning of the beginning of the beginning, both life and society, just as I said before, would still be nothing more than the chemical reactions of atoms. But there would be meaning behind that.
I said before that our brains, which produce our consciousness, are made of collections of atoms. This is what I think that would mean.
When atoms arrange themselves in certain ways, they produce consciousness.
And, atoms have always had the power to produce consciousness.
I think this is the truth. Our brains, these collections of atoms, do produce consciousness. And how strange is that! So why wouldn’t other atoms have the power to produce consciousness by joining together?
Of course, consciousness is a human concept, and some would say it’s nothing more than an illusion. But if that were true, one could also say this: atoms always had the power to produce the illusion of consciousness. And that’s the same thing as producing consciousness itself. Isn’t illusion also nothing more than a human concept?
Now I want you to remember something I mentioned before. Human consciousness cannot affect the brain. In other words, human consciousness, which is an abstract thing produced by a collection of atoms, cannot affect the body, a material thing, which is that collection of atoms. Why? Maybe this is one possibility. Consciousness belongs to a different space than the three-dimensional world of our bodies.
In other words, I wonder if consciousness exists as part of some other dimension sticking out into our own. The most recent science says that dark matter may be made up of particles able to move between different dimensions. Of course, I don’t mean to say that consciousness is dark matter. I said before that maybe many other dimensions are layered across this one, forming a gradation. So some of the tendencies of atoms come from those other dimensions. Maybe they tend to head toward, to overlay themselves on, other dimensions when they combine. These dimensions are not far away, and there aren’t any clear borders between them. Instead they’re something like the front and back sides of this world. I think they’re laid on top of each other. I also think maybe those things we call ghosts are fragments of consciousness that make up part of this gradation.
Life is born from connected atoms, which are made from the collection of many kinds of particles. I believe the evolutionary path that led us from the wavering between something and nothing to the existence of humans was taken in order for consciousness to be born. Atoms naturally want to connect to other dimensions. That’s why they try to create consciousness. In other words, they are drawn to that space, to other dimensions. Maybe what we see from an evolutionary perspective, or the perspective of natural selection, as living beings’ progress toward consciousness is, on an atomic level, nothing more than atoms being pulled to other dimensions. Maybe we came to be like this because we are being drawn in to somewhere else.
In which case, our consciousness, and our existence, has meaning. It may not be what we humans usually think of as meaning, but if nothing else, it is more than coincidence. After all, atoms always contained the ability to produce consciousness through their joining together. This would also explain why the universe is so perfect for life and humans.
So, what are these other dimensions? I’m not sure. It’s easy to imagine they’re heaven and hell. And if consciousness is just a channel to those places, the level of consciousness achieved is not likely to matter. The consciousness of ancient animals and the high-level consciousness of humans would differ in type, but their value would likely be the same in such a world. In fact, there may not even be a concept of value. Such a world would resemble something like a thoughtform, a tulpa. A reality supported by our shared thoughts.
Many physicists and neuroscientists say there’s no such thing as a soul. But, as I said before, science is not all-knowing. Quantum theory and the theory of relativity have still not been consolidated. While some say that alternate dimensions are just too small and simply cannot be seen by humans, I wonder if it’s not the entrances to those alternate dimensions that are too small to be seen. If there are alternate dimensions and dark matter all around us, no one can say confidently that there are no entrances we just can’t see within these collections of countless atoms that make up our brains. When humans die, that collection of atoms breaks down. However, our consciousness may just slip through one of those entrances into another world. When we enter that thoughtform, we may learn the whole truth of this world. Or we may not. We may just be absorbed like some sort of nutrient. Either way, that’s something to look forward to when we die. There’s still much I want to say about the universe and humans.
Well, finally I’d like to talk a little bit more about the universe itself.
I’ve said that there are a trillion galaxies. When we look at them all from far, far away, we know they look something like a beehive.
But it looks like there’s nothing in the cells of that hive. Basically, those membrane-like lines that demarcate the hexagons, those lines themselves are packed densely with galaxies—collections of stars—and seem to shine. And when we look at this structure, it also resembles the neurons of the brain.
This is quite extraordinary. I’d like to end today’s talk here.
Narazaki returned the DVD to its original place and left the room.
Mineno and the others had greeted Narazaki warmly when he returned to the mansion. Yoshida looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t press Narazaki, and Narazaki did not say a word about Ryoko Tachibana. Tanaka, the woman who had been wearing the Rilakkuma apron, was wearing an apron with a kettle printed on it today. The kettle had a face, and there was a speech bubble that said, “You ready to boil?” Did she make that herself? Narazaki wondered. What is she trying to accomplish, wearing something like that?
As he walked down the hallway now, Mineno approached him. “What did you think of Matsuo-san’s talk? Was it interesting?”
There was a large man next to her. It was the first time Narazaki had seen him.
Narazaki smiled. “There’s a lot I don’t get . . . Are his talks always like this?”
Mineno laughed softly. “No, there are all sorts. Lots of his talks are hard to understand, though . . . But he also does things like read his story, ‘The Last Cholesterol.’”
“‘The Last Cholesterol’?”
“Yeah . . . It’s a short story about old folks whose doctors told them they couldn’t eat any more cholesterol. They really enjoy eating their last raw egg over rice.”
“How . . . surreal.”
“There are other types of lectures, too,” the large man next to her added, smiling. “There’s also one called ‘The Adult Video Revolution.’ Matsuo-san is apparently always unsatisfied with the way pornos are shot. I guess he hates extreme close-ups and low angles. He said that the actresses work so hard, but the directors have no talent . . . Anyway, in his talk he said he came to realize that instead of focusing on them, he could change himself.”
“Change himself?”
“Yeah. If you just focus on pretending that the women are old girlfriends or women who stabbed you in the back when you watch them . . .”
“I see.” Narazaki managed to laugh ambiguously.
“If you’re unhappy with the world you can either change the world, or change the way you see it. He thought he’d talk about that by focusing on adult videos. The talk was a spectacular failure, though. The crowd booed, and Matsuo-san got mad . . . Anyway, he’s finally coming back, so next time you can watch him in person.”
“He’s coming back?”
“Yeah, he’ll get out of the hospital tomorrow,” Mineno said. Why hadn’t she said that first thing? Her long, thin eyes looked slightly moist. She was beautiful today, too.
“We’ll introduce you to him as well. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to know you’ve been watching his DVDs.”
Narazaki left through the front gate.
Shotaro Matsuo is getting out of the hospital, Narazaki thought. Will I meet him? He had an inexplicable interest in the man. But what will I do? Will I learn how he sees life, be moved, and return to work? Can I even go back to work? Can I go back, even though I’ve never once thought I wanted to go back at all?
Narazaki kept walking. He felt comfortable in the mansion. He wasn’t sure why, but Mineno said the same thing. There was something there that calmed people down. Mineno, he thought. She’s beautiful. What am I doing? What do I want? I guess I should just meet Shotaro Matsuo first. I won’t worry about why I’m doing it. I’ll just meet him.
“You’re Toru Narazaki, right?”
He turned around and saw a young woman behind him. As soon as he saw her, he knew she wasn’t from the mansion. But why did he know that? His heart began to race.
“You’ve been searching for Ryoko Tachibana, right?”
“What?” Narazaki looked at the woman blankly. She had brown hair and large eyes. She reminded him of someone. But who?
“I’ll take you to her.”
“Where?” When Narazaki asked, the woman smiled. For some reason, her smile struck Narazaki as familiar. Several cars passed. The wind was freezing.
The woman answered him softly. “To our faith.”
9
The woman smiled and stepped in front of Narazaki.
What am I doing? Narazaki tried to get his thoughts straight, but found himself following this woman. His heartbeat quickened. She’d clearly said Ryoko Tachibana’s name. But does that mean Ryoko’s called for me? What for? How could she know I was here?
The woman’s legs, sheathed in black stockings, moved beneath her black skirt as he followed her. She didn’t turn around. I could run away. There was a station wagon in the distance. A man was standing next to it. Is she going to tell me to get into that car? It was all too suspicious.
He thought about asking, Why’d you choose me? And, Why’d you scam Shotaro Matsuo? But he could ask those questions whenever he wanted. Should I ask before I get into the car? Maybe she is listening to my footsteps to make sure I’m following. Narazaki hoped she was. She stepped into the car. The man waiting next to the car sat down in the driver’s seat. Narazaki stopped in front of the station wagon. The woman looked at him, smiled, and offered him her hand from the car. To help him into the car. To help him make a decision.
Narazaki stared blankly at that hand. He’d seen this happen many times before. Before she’d left, he’d offered his own hand to Ryoko Tachibana from the edge of his bed. His whole life he’d been offering his hand to the world, but hadn’t been able to hold on to anything. He had been waiting with his hand stretched out, but nothing had grabbed onto it. Of course no one had offered a hand to him before. He heard a siren in the distance. Narazaki took her outstretched hand. It was warm. He got into the car, putting his weight into his own knees so as not to burden the woman.
The sliding door clicked shut. It was too late.
The faint smell of the woman’s perfume permeated the car.
There were sheets spread across the windows so he couldn’t see outside. The front and back seats were divided by a curtain. Even if Mineno or Yoshida or Kobayashi were right in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to see them. The engine revved. The car began to move. Narazaki was transported away from the places he knew. His own life was growing distant.
No. Narazaki immediately corrected his thinking. There was a strange feeling of elation within him. It was as if the further the car went, the realer his life became. This moment was different from what he experienced every day. He felt like he was truly living. He felt the air brushing his fingertips, the position of his hips where he sat, and even the clothes he was wearing. He could feel clearly the progression of time. This moment passes, then it comes again, then again, and again it will pass. He noticed the texture of the leather upholstery of the car. It looked too raw to be artificial. Was it some kind of animal’s skin? Could an animal’s skin be cut into such a shape? The car slowed down, and he felt other cars overtaking them. His ears caught the strain of a jangling tune, then it faded into the distance. Then a siren flared up, but that sound, too, vanished quickly.
“Where are we going?” Narazaki asked the obvious question.
The woman turned and looked at him. Just that slight movement caused her faint perfume to ripple through the air. The smell filled his mouth. It filled his body.
“You don’t need to worry.”
She smiled again. His eyes dropped to her soft chest. Her stockinged legs were crossed as if they were squeezing something. I really don’t have anything to worry about. I have nothing to lose. There is nothing in my life I need to protect.
The faint light passing through the curtains vanished, and the car finally came to a stop. He wasn’t sure how far they had gone. Narazaki opened the sliding door solicitously, as if to save the woman the trouble.
The concrete beneath his feet was rough. They were in an underground parking lot. The man opened what looked like the building’s service entrance, and Narazaki followed the woman inside. The man stayed behind. The woman led Narazaki down a dim hallway and opened a door on their left. In the dim light stood a woman wearing a surgical mask. He couldn’t see her face.
She sat Narazaki down, and rolled up his sleeve. The room smelled of disinfectant. When he saw the needle, he tried to speak up.
“Don’t worry,” said the masked woman. Her voice was soft, as if to let the frightened Narazaki know she thought kindly of him. “Look. There’s nothing in this needle. Look very closely.”
There really was nothing there.
“We’re going to draw a little blood. And we’ll need a little urine. Just a little ceremony to celebrate you joining us.”
Could he fail this kind of blood test? It’s better than them putting something in me, Narazaki thought. He let them take his blood, and walked to the bathroom with a paper cup.
Afterward, he continued down the dark hallway with the woman. They waited for an elevator. The sound of it rattling down the shaft rang through the silence, and then came a soft chime. The doors opened as if the elevator were inviting him in with a will of its own.
The woman said nothing, but she continued to smile. Does she think it’s too late for me to run? Narazaki stopped the thought. She’s right, I’m not going to run. She pressed the button for the eighteenth floor. This building is so quiet. It’s like there’s no one here.
The ele
vator doors opened, disgorging them reluctantly, and they walked down another dark hallway. On the left side of the hallway were many doors, like the rows of doors in an apartment building. He felt like they had walked quite far. The woman stopped and opened a door. Room 1807. He followed her into the room.
The woman spoke suddenly. “Please turn around for a second.”
The room was filled with a dim red light. Narazaki turned around and faced the door he had just stepped through. It looked like the entryway to an apartment. His mouth was dry, but still he somehow swallowed. His heart was racing. The air was damp. Narazaki was sweating.
“You can turn around now.”
When he did, the woman was wrapped in just a bath towel. Her body was illuminated by the faint red light, and her posture seemed shy. Behind her was a bed. A large bed—a bed where you could do anything. Narazaki was breathless.
“Tell me whatever comes into your mind.”
“What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
Narazaki couldn’t take his eyes off her body. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Just say whatever you think—just say it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t lie to yourself . . . No matter how embarrassing. Even if you can’t say it to anyone else. Your secrets. Your ugliness. Your past. Everything . . . Tell me everything you think.”
“You’re beautiful.” Narazaki finally managed to say. His throat was dry.
“What else?”
“I want to . . . No, but . . . No, there’s no but. I haven’t, for five years.”
Cult X Page 7
