by Marc Horne
Then I came home mad, the lawyer and his family were gone, Honda got hurt, the car chase, the death.
I wondered if they would still let me join them on their apocalypse and piggy-back my way to a bigger goal. I wondered if Kan Sato would turn up and add a new layer of death and horror to things. He had gutted and tortured many, we heard.
I was home. All the big questions were basically solved. Mayumi was with Maruhashi. Maruhashi had an agenda. He was not Samsara's friend. They both wanted the gas attacks to go ahead. The lawyer most likely knew a fact that would crystallize the difference between the two men. Mayumi had probably removed him and his women from the house in all the fuss. They were dead. Thousands of people would be gassed within a fortnight. Either my father, Samsara, or Maruhashi would smile when they read the news.
They would survive if our plan, Dad's and my plan, went ok. In a sense. In the sense I had survived the last night.
Another frigging walk down that street that was in a different world every time. Christ I hated going home these days.
Chapter 31
so so then then i i
Door opened. Up stairs. All the people. Usual people. Usual feeling. Death and confusion.
Down the stairs. Everybody in a van. Kan Sato was here. Didn't say a thing. Huge head. Honda bruised and under Sato's influence. Killed and unkilled us repeatedly as he glanced around. Should have been chickens in the street : only pigeons.
Drove away from the tele-club. All of us. The mutants watched through the window Never saw us again.
Huge car… like a van. Called Toyota Splacebo. Unique.
Much later: an hour: in and out: of reality: my brain leaking: I cry against a window: the Splacebo: my brain is in pieces, a cauliflower sauce: if my brain falls apart everything is over: over. We pass the imperial palace. I sleep: perchance to dream
No dreams, unless I dream of jet mines in a lost galaxy and I am one of the mutants. Possible.
FUCK
______
So I wake up again. Are you sick of hearing that? Did I ever tell you about this one day when I was young?
I got out of bed and walked down the stairs which were thick, Afro-nylon, carpet in reds that looked like what an electron microscope sees or a field of poppies if you span fast.
And as I walked down the stairs on the nylon I noticed weight and nylon and creaks, like things I had read about in a guide book but never experienced before.
All was new.
I paused.
My strange weight, tiny body, diarrheal flow of sounds in head. All was new. Time was new. Went downstairs. Opened door… as instructed. By someone… sometime. Looked at a photo I found in a living room for which I had the map and the textures but had never rendered. The picture was me. I saw that. My cousin. I knew that. Weeks ago on the beach having fun. On another planet. The picture a fake. I a fake. Wanted one of those mirrors I knew about. My first day on the planet. My first moments of life.
6 years old.
My mother was in Cambodia.
I didn't make that up, you know.
___________________________
I woke up, I said.
A soft bed full of money was under me. Purring, with no sound, in the bed was Mayumi. Her skin was honey and it was covered by a t-shirt: pink, "Hello Kitty", that told me we had been married for over a year. Her long black hair was a soaking spot for all eyes: it gave a little light to attract and the rest was suck. I looked at it despite not knowing anything about the room. I wanted to see interlocking black lines from her head. The palace of softness and a gentle smell of grooming. Finally I looked away.
A large room, mainly Western, that looked out on an empty and private garden: wholly Japanese. It had never been touched by anyone other than a servant and a certain abstract idea. The two had maintained it for my eye. Green majesty. Green geometry. A pocket universe conserved for moments of inhuman thought… when you felt like a diagram.
It soothed me so much that I did not even know I had started to stroke her hair. So weak: that was my greatest strength.
Her legs bore two large scars, one down the right thigh and the other on the left shin. They drew my eye. Little stories on her.
"You don't have any scars." she said. Her eyes were closed: I checked. She said it in a very dismissive way… like as if to say that I had never lived or something.
"I'm all scars, Mayumi. That's why they don't stand out."
She smiled and scrunched up her face. Although I knew it would be a good idea to get out of this bed, I stayed.
"So listen, Englishman, I have a question… just for me… secret for us." she was rolling over and had look on her face like she was rolling in a huge vat of whipped cream. I had to smile too: she was such an actress.
"Shoot. Ask."
"I don't get your group. Maruhashi tried to explain… but it doesn't make sense. Is it just for men to understand. Is that it. Am I too much woman?"
So she was in this pose, this rolled up state that showed me her face, her back, her chest, her legs, her arms. I was seeing her from every angle and she was totally poised.
"Well we are mainly a think tank. Just ideas. About… where man is going… why there is so much hate and violence in the world."
"Cute."
"Thanks. Then we have an inner circle that researches things… germ warfare."
"That's it… the part I don't get."
"We think… don't tell anyone… we think that man may need to go away."
"Ok… so you work with us to test man out?"
"Yeah… we work with any group that has plans to change things… to bring new ideas into the world."
"And what about the computers. Maruhashi says you do something with computers."
"Well that's … a secret."
"No secrets."
"We… have to think… about everything. We don't use normal weapons in our war. We use viruses."
"Computer viruses?"
"Computer, real and idea viruses. Ideas like your church that get into people's minds and change them."
"Hmm… you are almost telling me the truth. Breakfast?"
"Sure."
No sex.
_________
Lunch with Maruhashi and Sato.
"I am terribly sorry about all this," says Maruhashi as he walks around the large, austere, windowless room. "Benny was unstable. Paranoid. And sometimes people like that… too much information kills them but so does too little. You know?"
His suit was swaying as he stood still. Sato was in a tight polo shirt. He was stocky and impassive.
"So I believe you, Mr Blake. You didn't want to free the hostages. You are just confused… yes… confused by political things in our group. Don't worry about them. Do your job. We won't ask you any hard questions." Smirk
"Like?"
"Like… why do European hippies and free thinkers want to help us? You can't believe in our vision."
"We are experimental. You know we want to spread viruses… end wars."
"Blake… just stop. We know your group has something to gain. We don't care. This is not Samsara you are dealing with. We are realists."
I sipped my juice.
"Not dealing with Samsara? So who are you two with then?"
"Samsara… " said Maruhashi as he turned, his brow furrowed. "And us."
"Please remember that as a Westerner I have this 'either/or' mentality. I mean forgive me but that's just the way I am."
They smiled at each other and we all ate salmon for a while.
"All great thought… great deeds… happen on two planes. I fully believe in Samsara's spiritual revolution. And if he had any thought about the political aspect of the attack and how to channel that… well… he wouldn't be 'The Master.' But we have a responsibility going back a long way. This country is in danger of becoming one of those nations that our tradition has had to crush periodically. Those excessively influential, and excessively spongelike nations that threaten to break down useful ba
rriers. The Japanese people have minds that carry information quickly. They are over-connected. Easily swayed. Information technology is about to reach critical mass in Japan. We have slowed it down but it is coming. This nation of transparent minds cannot survive exposure to an Information Superhighway. Japan, home of so much genius, is an island nation and must remain so. Or be washed away by the sea. Foreign ideas, concepts, values. In endless interplay. This culture will be lost. The genius that was born here in the form of Samsara will be lost.
"We can teach and teach, but it must come with force. The island must be preserved, the fortress of ideas. As in evolution (were it true) you have to stop interbreeding of ideas to find purity… excellence.
"So after the gas attack, which will bring terror to the world we must make sure the nation stays tuned to us… not new movies from Hollywood."
Sato slurped his drink. He looked at his watch. He looked like he had to go and do something. You know, I am not naturally suspicious, but you'll agree I was right about Benny - he was bad news. Well, Sato… I had a feeling that he was now on me. That I was under his wing. He had my life in his hands.
Then, and the silverware was perfect, Maruhashi said the strangest thing. In a perfect suit he said it. In my life he said it. Here it is.
"I will tell you a tale shared by those like me… the protectors. It is the story of Jedas… "
"Jeebus?"
"Jedas. Also known as Jesus Iscariot or Judas Christ. Take your pick. It's a true story. If you know what I mean.
"Around two thousand years ago the order of the world was threatened. The Roman Empire was massive, and unifying. It's law was established everywhere. Trade was strong. And the real rulers of the Empire realized their mistake. The empire had become meaningless… it was a medium with no strong message. The real rulers came back. The Atlanteans. They said… let's see what is inside this empire of yours.
"They looked at Palestine… the Jews. It was clear that they were the strongest foes of the empire. Their strong idea… one God.. would not be crushed. The obvious option was to wipe them out, but a better idea was to break them in two and claim the spoils.
"The Atlanteans thought well. They found a rebel rabbi… there were many in that delightful country at that time. The one they found was at the same time the best and worst of men… he was Jedas.
"Jedas walked around the land sharing the secrets he had learned in India, but building them on Judaism. His charisma was… I have seen the Master utter words that I judged to be new and perfect and that none who were there can remember to this day but that molded their whole life… Jedas spoke like that. But one can't talk like that. Why would you… ? Secrets are for the secret.
"Anyway… Jedas had been walking the land and melting truth on hot faces. The Romans came and they spoke to him. They said… the secrets of the temple are ours… we can make you the king of two millennia. Join us. He said yes and at that moment he had betrayed himself, betrayed the traitor of the secrets of Agartha.
"You see… the preacher is by definition a traitor… to us… the holders of the secret. It is only when the true cult… the men of influence came to him that he realized that. At that point he splits in two.
"Jedas took the silver. And his right hand became Jesus, his left Judas.
"They hatched the plot. You know the story except that there was only one man. He preached 'Knock down the temple' and 'render unto Caesar' and, best, 'love your neighbor' (then go to sleep!!!)
"And when he had said enough they would fake his death and he would live happily after.
"Except the Romans were smarter than that. He was killed in the most horrible way. His pain was real, the silence of his death real, the strange symbols of his execution were real.
"After his death, gossip and lookalikes were much more effective than a dangerous rabbi in spreading the word of his resurrection. Rumors became truth : he walked again… he kept the empire alive for a long time.
"And now the cycle begins again. The world is all commerce, secrets are dying. A nation is ready for a teacher. The teacher will die. He has split himself in two. I am two, he is one. He will suffer and his apocalypse will come and then we will do what we have to do… harder these days but we can do it. Your plague will do it for us."
And then we talked boring sarin gas details that are better detailed in an appendix.
Chapter 32
I can do it.
I extract blood from my arm. Infected blood. Sleeping virus and bacteria in there.
Then I have to heat my blood for six hours.
The lab is so white that the rest of Maruhashi's house looks like a 'white' jock strap. Blood spots in it are horrifying. Also Kan Sato and Maruhashi enter in minty green gowns. I am separating the virus and the bacteria.
"Sato… have you ever read Mr Blake's father's paper?" asked Maruhashi : when I looked up there was a space near his face where I had expected his cigarette holder to be. So poised, was he.
"I hear it is good."
"Excellent. Listen to this theory."
The virus looks impotent floating in the jar. It isn't, of course.
"The city is like a large organism with a very good immune system. Attacks on this city that take out its cells… like a virus… almost never succeed. Its defenses are too strong. The media, the army, quarantine, the hospitals.
"I mean everyone hates the US, but New York is still there.
"The trick, and this is how the a smart virus works, is to disguise your attack."
"Nice," said Sato beneath a green face mask that was field of brutal chewing. "But what disguise? Shooting a disaster movie?"
"Also nice ha ha! But this is better. A gas attack. Sarin. Multiple deaths. Thousands of affected parties. Panic. Hospitals overloaded. You have itchy eyes? Sorry go home. Don't feel well? Well of course not. Take a day off work. But you're Japanese so you don't take too many days off.
"Everyone is back at work. Itchy with headaches and coughing. Spreading the real object of the attack. A virus genetically modeled from Ebola. Spreading through Tokyo unnoticed as the city tries to recover from the first inexplicable attack and is glued to the trial of its new martyrs."
I stepped back from the fuzzy bacteria.
"You asked for three weeks Mr Sato."
"Yes."
"We gave you a three week virus. Our projections are that that will not kill the whole city."
"Yes."
"So we have a theory. This is not a real apocalypse."
"… "
"I was supposed to ask Samsara about that, but I didn't."
"… "
"Does he know?"
"Don't ask so many questions. Friends don't ask so many questions. Also, he knows everything but acts on nothing. So that question makes no sense. Right, my left-wing friend?" Sato came close. I waved a syringe around to suggest that would be a bad idea at this critical juncture of the procedure.
"Listen for a second. This is what I think you are really up to… and its a bit disappointing.
"The virus is meant to destabilize the government. I know you have a private army, but I don't think a bunch of foreign thugs can take over the country, so I don't get your whole plan. But I'm pretty sure it ends up with you two in charge of the world's second largest economy. And it doesn't change much in the way my group wants change.
"But we can usually get something out of anything so you get your three week virus."
_______________
Later we all had green tea on the patio, watching fireflies. I suspected it was not firefly season and that Maruhashi had them flown in from Afghanistan or somewhere.
We sipped on the tea in near silence. Sato had been in and out all day. I hadn't seen my old friends in a while.
"So where's the rest of them. Honda and the others? Dead?"
We kept sipping but I noticed a wrinkle in Maruhashi's forehead. I was not being sufficiently British for him.
"They are in the house, studying the good books. Hond
a is in good condition, the woman is upset about the death… and the fat one is still a great fanatic despite it all. He doesn't look at events and find a pattern. He already has the pattern. Everything already makes sense for him. An admirable trait, don't you find?"
"In your line of work."
"Ours Mr Blake… honestly… terrorists that don't do their own killing are still terrorists."
"Don't flatter yourself. You're still just a businessman with a bunch of 'rough trade' tough guys stroking your… ego."
"I have killed. You remember the party?"
"Where is Mayumi?"
"How sweet… she is out doing some shopping of course. Sato… you are quiet!"
He sat up a little and said "Busy day."
I got up and walked to the balcony. A fifty foot drop onto bushes.
"One last question. When do I get killed?"
I had never fallen more than twenty feet. If Honda was here he could advise me, ex-paratrooper that he was.
Maruhashi came by my side and did a slow smile. "I don't think anyone wants to kill you anymore. And the police are notoriously bad shots. So unless you get on Mayumi's bad side, I think you should be fine, old chap."
"You know how that sounds, right?"
"It's true."
"I mean 'old chap'… do you know how that sounds."
"Mr Blake… after I kill a million people I may go mad… you know. So do try and be nice to me now.
_________
I work in the lab. Making this gas, making that. I make very deadly gas, hardly deadly gas and pink gas. I am wearing a gas mask. I make bacterial gas, viral gas, bacterio-viral gas, methane gas. Just joking about the methane. I don't fart the entire time I am in Japan, like Robert Powell in 'Jesus of Nazareth.' It must be the diet. My diet has changed dramatically since I came to live in this palace. Ramen is gone. Last night I ate raw deer meat on a slick, like a smear of pink paste. I had already memorized the word 'bambizushi' when I realized that Sato was fucking with me.
Mayumi comes in and kisses on my neck for a while. She wears no gas mask, or, later, protection of any kind. I sleep on the floor while she tinkles little tunes with the glass. I do not know at this point how much she knows about poison.
