It was not that Inui denied the validity of PT devices, and particularly their pièce de résistance, the DC Mini. He merely felt they should be put to better use in improving the human mind. In fact, he and Osanai had used DC Minis stolen from Tokita to steep themselves in occultic raptures based on their love for each other. There could be no more effective tool than the DC Mini for teaching the quintessence of the doctrine via mystic meditation, thus leading the user to ecstasy, as Inui had done with Osanai. For the sake of the sect, the DC Mini should be available for broader use among the public, the irredeemable contemporary man. For the time being, in particular, he urgently needed to open the eyes of the doctors and scientists around him. For they had sold themselves completely to the establishment and were now serving the false god of technology. Following a chance remark by Osanai, Inui had realized that, whenever he treated Osanai with tender affection, he himself had come to resemble Jesus. He had even started to see himself as the savior of the psychiatric world.
Osanai used his skill as a psychotherapist to read deep into Inui’s mind, and resonated with what he found there. It was about six months earlier that he’d started his plot to deliver control of the Institute to his beloved master. He’d succeeded in the first stage of his plan, namely to win over Himuro. He had successfully induced mental illness in Tsumura and Kakimoto, those blind worshippers of Tokita and Chiba, and had spread the terrifying rumor that schizophrenia was catching. Everything had gone according to plan, almost like clockwork; things had developed at a speed that even Osanai found surprising.
Having at last got their hands on the DC Mini, Osanai and Inui had decided that now was the time to settle the matter once and for all. Then they had acted on that decision. Depending on how it was used, the DC Mini could indeed become the “seed of the Devil.” They’d used it to turn Shima and Tokita into mental cripples. The only one left was Atsuko Chiba. She had started to suspect Osanai, and it wouldn’t be easy to deal her the same fate. She would have to be isolated within the Institute, before she could exact a vengeance that would surely be severe. She was, after all, an experienced therapist who had already treated a range of mental diseases and neuroses under the guise of Paprika.
Inui was in his own clinic when Osanai called to inform him that Shima had disappeared. Inui knew instinctively that Atsuko had taken Shima under her wing. Though it was already in the afternoon, in fact closer to evening, Inui went straight to the Institute. There, he gathered most of the important employees, therapists, and senior nurses of the Institute and its hospital in the Meeting Room. This was the room where they usually held press conferences; it had a capacity of more than two hundred. First, Inui allowed Osanai to explain the situation.
“Awfully sorry to call this meeting so suddenly. The fact is that a very serious state of affairs has arisen, one that could have a grave impact on both the Institute and the hospital. As you may already have noticed, all sorts of unpleasant rumors have been going around recently, and this has disturbed the peace we need to continue our work. We must take a serious view of this situation and make earnest efforts to improve it. The Vice President would now like to say a few words. I’m sure what he says will open your eyes to a serious problem that affects the whole of the medical world, a problem that lies behind the superficial situation we now face. I hope you’ll all give some very careful thought to this.”
Osanai then handed the baton to Inui, who took to the rostrum. More than a hundred mostly white-coated listeners looked up at the tall figure of Inui, as if appealing to him with eyes full of fear. Poor things, thought Inui. There had been no one they could depend on until now. Neither Shima nor Tokita was the kind of person who could be relied upon as a leader, and Atsuko Chiba was just a woman. Inui felt pity and contempt for the employees. They would be putty in his hands; he could frighten them, threaten them, cajole them, anger them, sadden them just as he pleased. He stood before them with a stern expression that could have been interpreted as cruel.
“As servants of the medical profession, we should all be thoroughly ashamed of ourselves. For we have disregarded human dignity and relied upon science and technology alone. Have the principles of this Institute really been correct until now? Given the situation that has now arisen, I can only conclude that they were wrong. We have strayed from the path of true medicine. As your Vice President, I must accept partial responsibility for this. I failed to voice my ongoing opposition, and as a result, this truly lamentable state of affairs has occurred. I refer of course to the outbreak of schizophrenic symptoms among our staff, some of whom have fallen into an irrevocable state of mental desolation. This is a calamity inflicted by the haphazard and immoderate development of PT devices by a few of our employees. Sadly, their disgraceful behavior has now come to the attention of the media. It stimulates their prying tendencies, even to the point of exposing the Institute’s past violations of law. And I refer finally to the disappearance of President Shima, a scandal that has come to light this very day.”
Many of the staff members were hearing about Shima’s disappearance for the first time. Some let out cries of dismay, others groaned in despair. The news caused a ripple of commotion that ruffled the air in the Meeting Room.
“For that reason I will be standing in as President for the time being. But in doing so, I have to make something very clear to you all. My aim in the short term is to eradicate the pernicious practice of unilaterally developing technology, which I would liken to a runaway train. I’m sure you’ve all felt the same about this. You haven’t been happy about the inhumane technology developed for treatment in the past, and you’ve had very serious misgivings about the obscenely hurried nature and breathless speed of such development.”
This assertion brought vigorous nods from Hashimoto and Senior Nurse Sayama, along with several others sitting in the front row, who’d been instructed by Osanai to voice their support for Inui.
“And all of this bad practice has come about because the sole purpose of our research has been to win the Nobel Prize for certain individuals,” Inui declared with voice raised. “But now it has got to stop. From now on, we will return to the fundamental principle of medicine, namely, to serve our patients. I strongly urge you all to engage in humane psychiatric research. As for the future development of PT devices, we will reform personnel practices inside the Institute and its hospital, practices that were arbitrarily put in place by President Shima. We will of course wrest development from the monopolistic and tyrannical control of Tokita and Chiba, and turn it over to you all for proper, diligent research.” Inui’s impassioned delivery had reached its climax, but he continued in the same vein. “The Nobel Prize is not the only goal for a scientist; fame and glory are not the only honors for those of us involved in medicine. The time has come to ask ourselves what exactly is the true orthodoxy of medical treatment. And that’s not all. We …”
2
Atsuko didn’t have a bed to lie in. Her own bed was already occupied by Tokita, and now Shima had the patient’s bed in the treatment room. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to sleep on the sofa; it had been quite a common occurrence in her days as Paprika, when her male clients would stay over on a frequent basis. It was, however, the first time she’d had two patients in her apartment at the same time.
Atsuko had thought better of letting Shima sleep in his own apartment. Osanai probably had more mischief lined up for him, and if he did have the master key to all the apartments, Shima on his own would have been the easiest of prey.
Atsuko had placed the gorgon on Shima’s head and examined him using the collector. The result was as expected: he’d been subliminally projected with the same program as Tsumura. Atsuko started treating him right away. Whenever she reached an impasse, she would move across to treat Tokita in the other bed. Patiently she spoke to them, repeating the same phrases, until at last, and to her considerable relief, they started to utter words. It mattered little, for the moment, that those words had only opaque meaning.
<
br /> Atsuko left the bedroom to go and fix some coffee, and was surprised to see the night-view panorama spread out before her in the living room. It was already nine in the evening. She realized she’d had nothing to eat since her simple breakfast of toast and coffee that morning.
As she was defrosting a frozen steak, the telephone rang. It was Matsukane, social affairs correspondent of the Morning News.
“Oh, hello,” said Atsuko. “Thanks for your help earlier. I really appreciated it.”
“How is Doctor Shima?”
Atsuko felt a certain foreboding. From the urgency of his tone, the call seemed to be more than just to confirm Shima’s condition.
“He’s on the way to recovery. Has something happened?” she asked.
“I’ve heard from, you know, my friend at the Institute …” Matsukane said hesitantly. He seemed reluctant to voice Osanai’s name. “He says Inui has gathered the Institute’s employees and declared himself acting President.”
“What? …” Atsuko felt struck by an unforeseen blow. Inui and Osanai had obviously anticipated that she would rescue Shima and take him under her wing. In fact, they’d been waiting for her to do just that. “That’s unbelievable.”
“He gave a speech in which he denounced both you and Tokita. He also talked about reforming the personnel system. You’ve got to do something quick. Otherwise you both risk losing your positions at the Institute. You might even be forced out altogether.”
“I know that.”
Atsuko knew that, but she didn’t know what to do about it. Not only had she never experienced this kind of conflict, but she hadn’t even read any books about it.
Still, there was no point in crying to Matsukane about it. “Thanks for letting me know,” she said tersely. “I’d be glad of your advice again in future.”
“Of course! Any time!” Matsukane spoke with some vehemence, as if to counter Atsuko’s coolness. “Anything you want to ask! Anytime!”
Atsuko replaced the receiver and stood rooted to the spot in the kitchen. Not a single person, it seemed, had expressed any opposition to Inui’s dictatorial high-handedness. That itself was proof of her unpopularity at the Institute.
The battle had finally started in earnest. But could it really be called a battle? Was she not completely defeated already? Both Shima and Tokita were spent forces, and the DC Minis, her only remaining weapons, were in the hands of the enemy.
She wanted a DC Mini, now more fervently than ever. If only she had a DC Mini, victory could be hers. Enemy. Weapons. Victory. Battle. Atsuko was already thinking the vocabulary of war. A war against an adversary fanatically driven by a warped ideology that Atsuko couldn’t even begin to understand. An adversary that was trying to wrest power through inhumane means, by abusing the functions of the DC Mini. Atsuko felt inclined to see this war as something very real, not just the product of “empire mentality.”
As she pondered over her immediate strategy, Atsuko suddenly remembered that Konakawa was due for another session that evening. In so many ways, she was in no fit state to treat him. The session would have to be canceled. She was about to call him when the intercom buzzer sounded; she had a visitor in the lobby. Atsuko froze when she saw the intercom monitor. There in the lobby stood Tatsuo Noda and Toshimi Konakawa.
“Yes?” said Atsuko, trying to make herself sound older. She’d decided to pretend Paprika was out, at least until she could glean their intention in visiting her.
“It’s Tatsuo Noda. And Mr. Konakawa is here with me.”
“Ah. I’m afraid Paprika isn’t here at the moment.”
Noda and Konakawa looked at each other. For some reason, they seemed to be smiling and shaking their heads.
Now Konakawa moved toward the microphone. “It’s not Paprika we want. We’ve come to see Atsuko Chiba.”
From the gravity of his tone, Atsuko sensed a sudden change in their perception of her. They seemed to know that Paprika and Atsuko Chiba were one and the same. When could they have discovered that? Their smiling head-shake suggested that they hadn’t come to discuss psychiatric treatment. On the other hand, neither of them was childish enough, nor indeed had the time, to come all this way just to surprise her with their newfound knowledge.
“I see. You’d better come up.”
With a sigh, Atsuko pressed the switch to open the glass door in the elevator hall. Noda and Konakawa both knew the entry code; they could have got through without Atsuko’s help. They must have opted to press the door buzzer because they wanted to give her time to prepare herself mentally.
It was the first time she would meet them as Atsuko Chiba. She had no idea how she would handle the situation. On the other hand, they probably felt the same way.
Atsuko led her visitors into the living room. They dutifully sat beside each other on the sofa, like two schoolboys hauled up before the headmaster. Atsuko herself sat in the armchair opposite.
“Miss Chiba,” started Noda, leaning forward.
Atsuko hated undue formality, no matter what the subject. “It’s all right. You can call me Paprika,” she said with a laugh.
“Right. Paprika. This afternoon, I spotted your car and followed you. Shima was sitting in the car, but he didn’t look right.” An anxious look appeared in Noda’s eyes.
Atsuko nodded in realization. “Ah. I thought I heard someone calling. At that intersection.”
“I followed until I saw you entering the garage below this building,” Noda continued. “Then I drove off. I was supposed to meet Toshimi at Radio Club at nine. I thought I’d ask his advice then come and see you. We’d already arranged to meet this evening anyway. We knew you were caught up in some kind of trouble, and wanted to see if there was anything we could do to help.”
“That’s so kind …” Atsuko was on the verge of tears; her voice may have trembled. But she wasn’t ready yet to show any sign of weakness. She took a deep breath and straightened her back.
“At first I imagined you wouldn’t be happy with us meddling in your affairs,” Noda continued. “But then I thought, what harm could we do? What could you lose by putting your trust in us, confiding in us? So now I’m imploring you to do just that.”
Atsuko was choking with emotion. Konakawa had been watching her closely as his friend spoke. “Where is Doctor Shima now?” he asked. His tone was far from interrogational; it was as if he were trying to coax information from her.
“Over there,” Atsuko mouthed silently, indicating the bedroom with a wave of the hand. Then she got up. It was time to tell them everything. Atsuko paced in front of the glass door that led out to the veranda. She was wondering where to start, how to tell them, how to help them understand. Noda and Konakawa gazed at her, as if spellbound, as if watching an actress on stage against a panoramic backdrop.
Atsuko stopped pacing and squared up to them. “All right. I’ll tell you everything I know,” she said. “I’ll disregard the fact that one of you is a police officer. Otherwise I won’t be able to tell it straight. But before that …” Atsuko twisted her body and shouted, almost screaming at the top of her voice. “… Let me have something to eat! I haven’t had anything since breakfast! And that was only a slice of toast!”
The tension dispelled, Noda and Konakawa laughed aloud.
“Of course. Of course!” Noda got up. “Can I use your phone?”
He booked a table at a restaurant that had private rooms. He occasionally used it for confidential talks with clients. Atsuko got herself ready. She undressed in a corner of the living room, using the wardrobe door as a screen. From the wardrobe, she pulled out an apricot-colored suit. It was the one she usually wore, but she hadn’t had a chance to recently. She hadn’t had it dry-cleaned since the last time she’d worn it, but there were no creases or stains on it.
As she was putting the jacket on, she felt something odd near her right hip. She put her hand in the pocket. Her fingers touched a small, hard object.
It was a gray conical object, about a centimeter high, wit
h a base about seven or eight millimeters in diameter. The DC Mini. Atsuko exclaimed loudly.
“There it is! I must have put it there and forgotten all about it! I’d forgotten it was there!”
Noda and Konakawa stood up, wondering what the fuss was about.
Now Atsuko remembered. On the day of the Board Meeting, Tokita had been showing her the DC Mini in the Senior Staff Room. She’d hidden it in her pocket when Owada suddenly walked in, and had proceeded to forget all about it.
“One disappeared some time ago,” she remembered Tokita saying after the five DC Minis had been stolen from his research lab.
3
Noda and Konakawa were still gazing at the DC Mini. It looked like nothing more than a little gray polka dot on the white tablecloth. They could hardly conceal their incredulity that something so small could house so much power.
The three had finished eating and were relaxing in a private dining room that resembled the parlor of some stately home. Oil paintings by Hitone Noma hung on walls covered with maroon wallpaper. The lighting was subdued. Atsuko had explained the whole story while eating a steak of finest Kobe beef, fresh, not frozen. The tension had lifted from her shoulders, her heart felt lighter, her stomach was full. Noda checked with Atsuko that it was all right to light a cigarette, an unusual act for him, and offered one to Konakawa. Atsuko knew the occasional cigarette would have a positive effect on their minds. The room gradually filled with an evocative masculine smell, until Atsuko couldn’t resist asking for one herself.
The waiter brought coffee. Atsuko slipped the DC Mini back into her pocket.
“Internal conflicts,” Noda said once the waiter had left the room, “are in themselves nothing unusual. Especially in a corporate environment.”
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