Paprika

by Yasutaka Tsutsui

  Owada remained silent, probably to save his own skin.

  “OK then. If Doctor Shima is going to resign as President, then I think I’ll resign as director as well,” Tokita said calmly.

  Atsuko followed suit immediately: “And that goes for me too.”

  “Why would you resign?” Inui said with a quiet expression of alarm. “Can you give me one reason?” He turned to Shima. “This is nothing but self-indulgence. Now we can see how badly you’ve spoilt these two until now. After resigning as directors, I presume they would also leave their positions in the Institute. The young ones are all like that today. They fritter away the Institute’s budget on research, and then, when things don’t go their way, they say they want to leave and take their research results elsewhere.”

  Shima leant forward in surprise. “I think you’ll find that neither Doctor Tokita nor Doctor Chiba is that type of person.”

  “I’ll leave it all here, everything I’ve developed. Including the PT devices,” Tokita said with the faintest of smiles.

  Inui appeared none too pleased with Tokita’s sardonic manner. “You needn’t put on airs. What you said is only to be expected. You seem to think you developed the devices all by yourself, but that’s merely the product of vanity. You didn’t. What about the investors who provided all the funds, the engineers who installed the equipment, the therapists who tested the devices, the assistants, even the cleaning ladies? They all played a part in developing those devices. Everyone in this Institute. You can’t claim the invention as your own. It belongs to the Institute. If you go, you’ll have to leave everything here, including your research on devices yet to be developed!” he raged.

  “Come now,” said a suitably astonished Ishinaka to halt Inui’s tirade. “The point was merely hypothetical anyway!”

  “If these two were to leave now, we’d be in real trouble,” added Hotta earnestly, hoping to placate the now dispirited Tokita and Atsuko. “We haven’t even decided to coopt yet, so for pity’s sake there’s no need to precipitate things. Yes, the discussion was merely hypothetical, but now it’s gone all out of proportion.”

  “As you say. I’m sorry I allowed my emotions to get the better of me,” Inui said with a little bow to the pair, twisting a smile at the severity of his own outburst. “Sorry. I should be old enough to know better.”

  “But everything the Vice President said was in the interests of this Institute,” Shima said in defence of Inui. “Nothing should be taken personally.”

  “How are we to proceed then, President?” asked Katsuragi, who only had thoughts for the documents to be submitted to the Ministry. He brought his face close to Shima’s. “We need to decide some resolutions for this meeting.”

  All resolutions on matters discussed so far were shelved, including the issue of Paprika. The discussion proceeded to the election of a successor to the aging auditor Yamabe, who had recently tendered his resignation. The matter was entrusted to Inui, who claimed to have “someone in mind.” Ultimately, however, auditors could only be elected by a meeting attended by the Foundation’s seventy trustees.

  “You know that auditor,” Atsuko said as she and Tokita walked along the corridor after the Board Meeting. “He’d better not be another of Inui’s cronies.”

  “Why not?”

  “Didn’t you think it odd? All those mysterious purchases from Tokyo Electronics Giken?”

  “Yes, I did. That’s why I said we shouldn’t use them anymore.”

  “Katsuragi nearly had a fit when he heard that, didn’t he.”

  “Yes … Did he?”

  “It made me think there’s something untoward going on here. I think they’ve taken advantage of your openness to bump up the purchase volume. They could use it as a way of making a fool of you.”

  “Oh. Could they?”

  “We need an auditor who’ll do his job properly. I’ll talk to Shima. Ask him to recommend someone he can trust.”

  “What I find odd is that, well, you know, all the other directors were in a panic when we threatened to resign, because they know the Institute’s R&D would stop dead if we left. And yet I could swear the Vice President seemed very keen not only on Doctor Shima resigning but also us two as well. He says he wants us to consider the volatility of science and technology, but if he carries on like that, the Institute will surely go under.”

  “Wait a minute.” Atsuko stopped at the corner of the corridor. They were in front of the Medical Office, where the corridor widened slightly. From there, they would go their separate ways to their labs. Atsuko lowered her voice in awareness of the listening ears of nurses, therapists, and other employees who incessantly passed to and fro. “Wasn’t Inui himself once shortlisted for the Nobel Prize?”

  “That’s it!” said Tokita, eyes widening as he looked up at the strip lights on the ceiling. “He was! A long time ago, when we were still at school.”

  “He told you to leave all your research results behind, didn’t he. Including devices still under development.”

  “To take the credit for himself? Surely not?! It would be impossible!” Tokita inadvertently raised his voice, then looked around with a pained smile. “Well. Let’s talk about it later.”

  “Yes. Later.”

  Atsuko returned to her laboratory, kicking herself for not asking Tokita whether he’d designed the DC Mini with a protective code. In Atsuko’s lab, Nobue Kakimoto was playing back the dream of a severe schizophrenic who’d been treated the previous day. She hadn’t even started photocopying the research papers as requested by Atsuko earlier.

  “You’re not to see this patient’s dreams! It’s too dangerous for you!” Atsuko yelled as she quickly switched off the monitor. “What about those research papers?! I need to distribute them urgently!”

  Nobue cast her eyes down for a moment, then suddenly stood and slapped Atsuko’s cheek hard, with the unfathomable strength of the half-crazed. Atsuko had taken Nobue’s confidence for granted, and that had made her complacent. “No need to act so arrogant, just because you think you’re good-looking!” Nobue screamed.

  14

  The caretaker allowed Noda to cross the lobby unchallenged; Paprika must have told him she was expecting a visitor. It was after eleven in the evening. Noda passed through the glass door from the lobby and stepped into the elevator at the far end of the reception lounge.

  No sooner had he pressed the button for the sixteenth floor than a giant of a man stepped in behind him. His body seemed to fill the whole of the elevator. This must surely be that genius scientist who developed the PT devices, thought Noda. He couldn’t quite remember the face he’d seen in the blurry newspaper photograph. But since the article had repeatedly described the man as “massive,” “enormous,” and “gigantic,” that detail had remained in his memory. The giant pressed the button for the fifteenth floor before turning to eye Noda suspiciously.

  Noda gave his traveling companion a nod and a smile of familiarity, enough to imply that he knew all about him. “The name’s Noda,” he said. “I’m here to be treated by Paprika.”

  The giant seemed surprised. “Paprika?! Has she started that again? Oh my golly.” Then, for no apparent reason, he smiled inanely and started to sway his gargantuan frame.

  This sloppily obese man spoke in such an infantile tone that he seemed incapable of engaging in any proper conversation. As Director of Development for a leading motor company, Noda wouldn’t normally have given him a second glance. But he somehow felt a liking for this man. It certainly helped that Noda gave preferential treatment to genius. More than anything, however, the man’s huge eyes were limpid and quite beautiful.

  Noda didn’t know why the man had smiled. The ballyhoo about Paprika, nothing more than a rumor anyway, hadn’t been reported in any newspaper read by the likes of Noda. The story had been carried by weekly gossip magazines, but Noda was unlikely to give them a second of his time.

  The elevator arrived at the fifteenth floor. As the doors opened, the man stepped ou
t without a word. He seemed lost in thought. A pure man without a malicious bone in his body. That was Noda’s judgment as an expert in human observation.

  At the far end of the sixteenth floor, Noda waited outside the door to Apartment 1604, which was fitted with a fish-eye lens. Paprika eventually opened the door. Noda gasped when he saw her face.

  “What have you done to your eye?!” he asked, like a father scolding his daughter for loose conduct.

  “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  Noda supposed she’d been attacked by a patient. “It looks serious.”

  “Does it?” Her left eye was bloodshot, its socket bruised and swollen. “Never mind. Fancy some coffee?”

  Noda followed Paprika into the living room, then hesitated. “No, wait a minute. I’ll need to sleep, won’t I?”

  “All right, how about a drink then?” Paprika took a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from her trolley and started to fix a whiskey on the rocks as she spoke. “I’ll access your early morning dreams again, so it’s OK for you to drink. Tell you what – let’s have one together. I want to get some sleep myself tonight.”

  “Excellent!” Noda felt elated as he gazed across at Paprika, uncharacteristically dressed in a loose gown. Paprika returned his gaze, inducing a faint-heartedness he hadn’t felt in years. He cast his eyes down in embarrassment. He no longer saw her as a young girl.

  “But you’re in no mood to drink and make merry?” he ventured.

  “It’s cool. Let’s make merry.”

  The two sat facing each other across Paprika’s glass table while they drank Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. The night panorama was visible in the background. The room was filled with a homey smell, perhaps because of Paprika’s gown; Noda began to feel pleasantly mellow. But Paprika was still downcast and conversation was sparse. She would start to mouth words, but none would come out. It was as if there were something she wanted to ask Noda, but was unsure whether she should say it.

  In the end, Paprika decided to say nothing at all. Ice still nestled in her glass as she put it down and stood up. “You were up early this morning. You must be tired. Bed?”

  Noda half-lifted himself, then slumped back in his chair, not knowing quite what to do.

  “Mmm. That’s right,” he said, nodding ambiguously.

  “OK. You know where the bathroom is. You don’t like pajamas, right? You’ll find a bathrobe in there.”

  “Right. Thanks.” As a gentleman, perhaps he should go to bed first. Noda gulped down the rest of his whiskey and stood up.

  It felt odd. This confused tangle of paradoxical relationships – doctor with patient, father with daughter, husband with wife, lover with lover – had conjured up a strange atmosphere unlike that of any hospital, or any home, and certainly not any lover’s tryst. Noda emerged from the bathroom and entered the bedroom, doffed his bathrobe in the ethereal glow of the monitor screens and slipped into the bed in his underwear. Paprika followed a few moments later, dressed in a pure-white negligee, to fit the gorgon cap on Noda’s head.

  Noda couldn’t get to sleep that night. He wanted to see Paprika in her white negligee once more, even in the dim light of the room. He could faintly hear the sound of her splashing in the bath.

  By the time Paprika returned, Noda’s eyes were closed. He half-opened them to see her standing by his bed and smiling down at him. From below she looked huge. Bluish light shone through her negligee from behind and below, revealing the voluptuous outline of her breasts. The swelling around her eye was hidden by shade. In this light, she looked like Kwannon, the goddess of mercy, or Venus, or Hariti, the goddess of children. As Noda stared on, she momentarily revealed a shapely pair of calves as she slipped into the next bed, muttering something about being embarrassed. Then she inserted a program memory into the device at her bedside and wrapped something around her wrist, before half-covering her face with the sheet.

  Maybe it was something to do with his age, but Noda felt strangely comforted by seeing a sight he’d so longed to see. Paprika once more in her white negligee. When he could hear the reassuring sound of her breathing as she slept, Noda also fell asleep. He had several short dreams. He woke just once, when he removed the gorgon to go to the bathroom. On returning, he gazed at Paprika’s beautiful face for a few moments, before returning to sleep a happy man. This time, he entered a deep sleep.

  Once again, he was in the middle of an absurdly fantastic adventure, half aware that he was dreaming. He often had dreams like this. He rarely went to the cinema these days, but he’d been amazed on seeing a video of Super Sabre his son had rented. It had revived a certain thrill he used to feel in the days of his youth, when he’d been an avid film goer. That thrill was more than evident in this dream.

  Noda was cutting his way through a jungle, the adventure still clearly in progress. He was wearing a tattered safari suit, as worn by Johnny Weissmuller in Jungle Jim. In the stifling heat of the jungle, humanoid creatures scuttled back and forth through the undergrowth ahead. They looked like beggars dressed in rags. Noda had to capture one of them quickly.

  One of the creatures disappeared into a thicket of shrubs. Noda followed it, flying into the thicket with a loud rustling noise. They fought, but the fight was completely bereft of strength. It somehow felt empty. His adversary had the face of a wild boar, or perhaps a bear.

  Ah – this one’s Segawa, Noda thought as he wrestled the creature to the ground. His adversary’s feeble resistance was quite at odds with the savage look on its face. “No – it’s not Segawa, it’s … It’s …” I should know this, after ******ing last night’s dream.

  “That’s right. It’s Takao, isn’t it,” Paprika chimed in to offer support.

  That’s right. Segawa stands for Takao. When I’m dreaming, I’ve got to find out who is someone else’s ****** in the dream. Paprika told me that. That’s why it’s so urgent. The face of his opponent pinned down beneath him started to change. It began to resemble his hazy recollection of Takao’s face. “I’m Taka – o!” the boy chanted in a child’s voice, as if to confirm the point.

  Noda set off through the jungle again. This time Paprika was with him. As always, she wore a red shirt and jeans – the “Paprika costume,” as Noda saw it. He wasn’t sure whether this was the illusory Paprika of his dreams or the real Paprika, the one who had willingly stepped in to help him.

  “Sorry. Mind if I join you?” Paprika said with a smile.

  By all means. Come on in. It’s a pleasure to have you in my dream. Noda muttered words to that effect. Or maybe he just thought them. In any case, they were relayed to Paprika in an instant. As the two walked on, they were being watched by creatures with the faces of bears, tigers, wild boars, wolves, hyenas, and other animals, their heads peeping out of the undergrowth all around.

  “What are these animals?” Paprika said with an air of disgust. “Are they from a Bond film too?”

  “No. This isn’t a Bond film. It’s ****************.” He knew the title. But because it was a dream, the words wouldn’t come out properly.

  “What did you say?” asked Paprika, sitting in the seat next to him. They were in a theater, watching the film they’d just been appearing in.

  “The Island of Dr. Moreau. It’s the film I went to see on my own.”

  “So you’ve been confusing Dr. No with The Island of Dr. Moreau?”

  Paprika’s sharp insight attacked Noda’s stomach like a pungent spice. Perhaps that explained her name.

  “True. If this is the film I went to see on my own, then it couldn’t have been Dr. No.”

  Noda groaned and turned toward the seat next to him. Something he didn’t want to see would be sitting there, he knew. Just as he’d feared, Paprika had turned into a tiger.

  Through the window, Noda could see farm fields stretching into the distance. He was now a guest in an old-style inn. The fields outside looked like the countryside near his childhood home. In one field, a man was selling vegetables to a crowd of customers.

/>   “Who’s that?”

  Noda turned to see Paprika standing in the room. She was no longer a tiger. She approached Noda, then sat on a rattan chair by the window.

  “It looks a lot like Namba.” But Noda had no idea why Namba should be selling vegetables in the field.

  A commotion could be heard in the corridor outside. Paprika smiled wryly. “They’re all in a tizz because they think a tiger’s on the loose.”

  “So it seems.” Noda noticed that he’d gone goggle-eyed. “It would be no joke if a tiger got loose in a place like this.”

  “I wonder if it’ll come in here.”

  I’m sure it will. I don’t want any more of that infantile fighting, thought Noda, quite fed up with it all.

  “By the way, why was I a tiger?”

  Noda couldn’t answer. He felt as if his tongue was frozen fast.

  The sliding door opened and in came his son, aged four or five. He was wearing a cotton summer kimono. It was a memory from when the family went to a spa town for a short break.

  “Is that really your son?” Paprika said, standing in surprise. “The one who phoned me that time?”

  “Yes. It’s him, but more than ten years ago.” Noda remembered something important. “His name’s Torao. It’s written differently, but tora still means tiger.”

  The boy disappeared immediately. The scene changed again, leaving Paprika sitting on the rattan chair, immersed in thought.

  Now they were in the empty lobby of an office building. It was Noda’s company building, with a glass front door that opened automatically. Paprika was still questioning Noda, standing beside him in the lobby. They were both staring at the automatic door.

  “Can you remember why you called your son Torao?”

  “Because I thought it was a good name. You see … well …”

  The door opened. Sukenobu came riding into the lobby on a red bicycle.

  “Now. That isn’t Sukenobu, is it? It’s not him but …”

  “That’s right,” said Paprika. “It’s Akishige. The leader of the pack, the class bully.”