by Unknown
Recently transformed vampires—those who were ten or twenty years young—adopted ID tags and remained difficult to detect. People were beset by fear and doubt. And once the W Factor came to light and it became known that humans and vampires could be differentiated, disaster followed. An abnormal proportion of nonvampiric humans tested positive for W.
Before the West regained its composure, some one hundred thousand W Factor-positive individuals were executed, but it is estimated that 30 percent of these were not vampires—rather, they were illegal immigrants and social minorities.
While developed nations across Europe and the Americas were swept by tempests of vampire slaughter, Japan was, by comparison, able to distance itself from this frenzy. Foreigners had always been conspicuous there, and compared with those in the West the vampires in Japan—of which there were few—found it nigh impossible to remain hidden. Importantly, owing to Japan’s historical policy of isolationism, no elder vampires resided there.
Furthermore, while the Japanese government was ushering in new prime ministers on a seemingly annual basis, the creation of legislation concerning the management of the vampire population was naturally postponed. The police did detain and imprison around a hundred vampires, but they came up empty-handed when the time arrived to charge them with a crime. A vampire-related bill was introduced, but this measure was regarded as inessential and repeatedly dropped during breaks in National Diet sessions. Accordingly, in Japan—where, ironically enough, everything falls behind—scientific and practical research into vampirism moved forward.
From a medical standpoint, human-vampire metamorphosis is defined in terms of a reorganization of the cranial nervous system. But the crucial question of how a person actually becomes a vampire remains unanswered. Vampire physiology is largely an enigma. For example, among humans that have been bitten by vampires there are both those who have remained dead and those who have returned to life as vampires. The cause of this discrepancy is unknown. One influential theory is the theory of the Human-Vampire Metamorphic Factor X. Upon being bitten by a vampire and injected with a substantial amount of Factor X, the speed of the victim’s transformation exceeds the rate of tissue necrosis, and he or she is restored to life in the form of a vampire. But if only a small amount of Factor X is present, tissue necrosis occurs rapidly, and the victim dies.
“Vampires differ from humans physiologically and in terms of cerebral nerve activity,” the Tokyo prefectural governor declared. “However, they are remarkably skilled in the area of technological development. Japanese society—with its aging population and shortage of quality laborers in the high-tech industry—should put the vampires to work.”
It was generally acknowledged that vampires had greater technological acumen than did humans. Countless reports emerged claiming that the developers of globally competitive key technologies were, in fact, vampires.
However, there also existed deep-rooted resistance to the notion of accepting foreign vampires into the country. Many opposed even the idea of allowing living foreign laborers into Japan, and for this contingent admitting vampires was out of the question.
Be that as it may, the current political administration was simultaneously grappling with the problem of the US military’s presence in Okinawa. As this issue grew politicized in such a way that it seemed likely to bring about a change of government, things began to move in an unanticipated direction.
“For the sake of Japan, accept the American forces in Okinawa, they say. And so for the sake of Japan, Tokyo must accept the vampires!”
Triggered by this remark, issued by the Okinawan governor at the national gubernatorial meeting, the question of whether to accept vampires into the country became a matter of national security. As tensions with neighboring countries heightened, a strengthening of the Japanese-American alliance was declared, and the US military presence in Okinawa increased, a measure to admit vampires into the country was granted high-priority approval, and they were permitted take up residence in Tokyo.
Vampires—naturally the Japanese constitution contained no language pertaining to vampires, so they were legally designated Class Two Immigrants—were registered by the authorities, and after being equipped with wearable GPS devices that tracked their whereabouts, were permitted to reside within the Tokyo city limits.
They were managed by the employment agency VLC, which had stakeholders (no pun intended) both in Tokyo and across the country. In accordance with their abilities the vampires were placed in classes, organized into teams, and sent to work in the development sectors of corporations and the like.
Using humans for direct sustenance, or “bloodsucking,” was banned, but the state provided suitable blood to those vampires who made substantial contributions to society. Accordingly, Red Cross blood drives transformed into free-market competitions, and the ban on selling blood was lifted.
Japan welcomed more than 100,000 vampires, organized and optimized them, and put them to work in the area of Vampire Technologies—referred to as VT—to increase productivity in high-tech fields. The move singlehandedly engendered a GDP increase of 8 percent and annual economic growth that progressed at roughly the same rate. In terms of GDP, Japan had already overtaken China, and the nation reasserted itself as the second most powerful economy in the world, behind only the United States.
Amidst these developments, incidents of crime surrounding vampires serving as industry resources spiked. Correspondingly, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department First Public Security Division’s Class Two Immigrant Unit, also known as the Vampiric Crime Investigative Unit or, more commonly, the Vampire Squad, was born.
This was not a criminal unit in the conventional sense. Rather, it was affiliated with the division responsible for public safety. Indeed, the problem of vampires and that of public safety were inseparable.
3.
The designated meeting spot was an evidently high-class Italian restaurant located in the Hirō district of Shibuya. It was a small joint, constructed of brick and limned with a calm ambience.
Yatsuyanagi deposited his red E-Type Jaguar in the parking lot. Emissions regulations had recently grown strict, and it was in violation of Tokyo city ordinance to drive unmodified automobiles produced more than half a century prior. But Yatsuyanagi’s car had been affixed with a conspicuous VT logo. It was the mark stamped on products produced utilizing technologies developed by vampires. The Jaguar also had a special nanotechnology-enhanced catalytic converter, so its emissions satisfied city standards.
Perhaps owing to the time of day, Yatsuyanagi’s Jaguar was the only automobile in the small lot. Surprised to notice that the woman’s car was absent, he entered the building.
On the wooden door, perhaps as a means of protection against vampires—or maybe simply for decoration—hung some garlic. These days garlic hung at the entrances even of drinking establishments and gyūdon shops. Even now those sorts of establishments struck Yatsuyanagi as odd.
“Mr. Yatsuyanagi, Mrs. Amachi is waiting.”
The shopkeeper’s announcement came immediately after he entered the restaurant. It was as though she had read his ID tag before he entered the building. Despite being a police officer, he couldn’t get used to the individualized surveillance enabled by the ID tags.
“I know you’re busy—thanks for coming.”
She guided him to a private room. There he found a woman who appeared ten years younger than her actual age. She looked to be on her way home from work. She was wearing a suit, and a tote bag jam-packed with books and other materials had been placed in a box beneath the table.
Rieko Amachi—maiden name Rieko Higashihara—had been his junior in their medical school days, and if things had worked out differently she might have become Rieko Yatsuyanagi.
They had also been in judo club together. She had not been especially skilled at the sport, but her internal strength was unparalleled. Even when faced by a sup
erior opponent, her attacks persisted. She always fought like she was going to win, no matter the score. That was Rieko. The woman bowed deeply.
She had grown up. Even so, Yatsuyanagi couldn’t help but think back on those twenty long years.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You said it was urgent?”
When she had called him at the Inokashira Park crime scene to say that she wanted to meet up at the Italian restaurant, he had visualized them celebrating their reunion with a toast or something. But the woman in front of him didn’t have anything of the sort in mind.
“Amachi’s gone missing.”
“Missing? Ken’ichi? Wait a second—I saw Ken’ichi just recently! Three days ago, at the cardiovascular surgical conference. I invited him out afterward, but he returned home immediately, said that you were waiting for him …”
“He didn’t come home.”
“He didn’t come home …”
For a time Yatsuyanagi had been estranged from Rieko, but those days were over. Amachi was far better suited to be her husband than he would have been. Yatsuyanagi had come to like Amachi. At least as far as Yatsuyanagi knew, Ken’ichi Amachi wasn’t the sort of man to leave his wife and disappear.
“According to this morning’s news they found someone in Inokashira Park who had been attacked by a vampire.”
“No, no. The victim isn’t Ken’ichi. The crime took place early in the morning, and it wasn’t three days ago. And we’re not even sure whether a vampire was involved. Don’t let the news get to you—it isn’t like you. Information spreads fast on social media, but it isn’t accurate.”
“So it seems … that’s good to hear.”
Rieko seemed relieved. After losing their appeal as an advertising medium, the old television stations—with the exception of NHK—had been dismantled one by one, and these days citizens and specialty channels disseminated bits and pieces of news free of charge. Then, divisions of those former news organizations gathered up these news flashes, performed corporate-sponsored analyses of their content, and delivered their spin to audiences.
The result was that information pertaining to topics outside of the business world was a mixture of wheat and chaff, the outcome of a for-profit analytical model that combined incident reports and mere gossip. And the media reported the true and the false. People heard only what they wished to hear.
The police had yet to release a formal statement concerning this morning’s incident. Today’s news was just conjecture.
“Was he in some sort of trouble, either professional or personal?”
“You’re a Cadaver Investigator, but you sound like a detective.”
“I am part of the police department, after all. So then, what could have happened? It’s probable there was a legal issue with a heart surgery patient at the university hospital or something …”
“As far as I know, he wasn’t in trouble. Amachi is a regenerative medicine researcher, not a clinician like me—there’s no reason he would have trouble with a patient.”
“That’s true. No, I was just thinking that because of who Ken’ichi is he could have gotten wrapped up in some sort of trouble and then found it necessary to go underground in order to protect you …”
As Rieko listened the color of her face changed.
“What’s the matter?”
“Earlier I said that he didn’t come home, but that’s not exactly the case. Amachi might have returned once in the middle of the night. There’s no sign that he entered the house, but by this morning our car had disappeared from the garage. I think he took it.”
Amachi had arrived at the conference by train and bus. It hadn’t seemed unusual at the time because of the get-together that had been planned, but Amachi had not attended.
“Any chance you’ve been burglarized?”
“The car, garage, and house all have security systems. Only Amachi and I can disable them. Amachi sent me a message saying he was going to break early and attend the conference soirée, so I didn’t worry about it until morning.”
“Didn’t you hear his car? Do you at least know what time he came back?”
“No, it’s an electric.”
“Is that so? Is there is a security system log? A video recording?”
Reiko shook her head. “It used to be set to keep records for a month, but it’s been reconfigured. Every morning at six it’s all erased. There aren’t any records.”
Reiko’s explanation was haphazard, but the facts suggested that Ken’ichi Amachi returned to his house late in the night after the conference, reprogrammed the security system, took the car, and disappeared.
There was something about her husband that his wife didn’t know, and whatever it was accounted for his disappearance. Rieko didn’t seem satisfied, but her story wasn’t unusual. While the motive for his disappearance was unknown, at present it would be difficult to call it a crime. This was a job for the Civil Police.
Choosing his words carefully, he explained the situation to Rieko. In the end, this was a matter between husband and wife.
“But … I’m worried.”
“Worried?”
“I wonder if he might have been involved in a vampire incident. Amachi’s research involves vampire immortality and how this knowledge might be practically applied in regenerative medicine. If the vampires knew about his work …”
“But that’s impossible. Ken’ichi is an excellent man, but his present research is a team operation. Abducting one or two researchers wouldn’t make any difference. And the vampires in the city are under constant surveillance. If something had happened, there’s no way it would have gone undiscovered for three or four days. Don’t worry, Ken’ichi is safe.”
As he instructed her to face up to reality, Yatsuyanagi offered an indirect warning. Rieko’s story suggested that she couldn’t accept that there was something she didn’t know about Ken’ichi. Accordingly, she had started going on about vampires and the like.
“Thank you. I’m glad we talked.”
Without further discussion the pair finished their meal and parted. Rieko returned home alone on foot.
4.
“Come on in!”
Hashimoto held down the elevator door’s open button. But the pair of policewomen shook their heads. “We’ll take the next one,” one of them said. Without a word, Muraki pressed the close button. The elevator swiftly ascended the police station.
“Don’t let it bother you.”
“Are we that hated? Even by our colleagues?”
“They don’t have any reason to hate us—they hate the vampires. That’s all.”
The First Public Security Division’s Class Two Immigrant Unit was an independent unit that occupied one floor of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department building. The belief that vampirism was the result of a viral infection lingered, so all sorts of measures had been taken to ensure that the hypothetical virus would not be transmitted to the outside world. In those days, except when used by the Vampire Squad and the VLC staff, the elevator wouldn’t even stop on this floor. Naturally, ID tags were employed to closely monitor access to the rooms.
By the time Muraki and Hashimoto returned from the field, nearly all of the members of the Vampire Squad had arrived. Muraki greeted the subsection chief, Yamamoto, then took a seat in the last row. Hashimoto sat down beside him.
“Well, it’s about time, so let’s get started.”
Chief Yamamoto rose to his feet. The projector screen at the front of the room read “The Kichijōji Class Two Immigrant Serial Vampire Incidents,” and a small VT logo appeared at the corner of the screen. In affairs handled by the Vampire Squad, the word “murder” was anxiously avoided.
“First we’ll go over the facts that have come to light in the week since the incident took place.”
Chief Yamamoto fiddled with the remote control function on his go
vernment-issue smartphone, then displayed the information related to the incident in chronological order. The word “cadaver” was conspicuous on the screen. Because of society’s antagonism toward vampires, the late victims of vampiric crimes were referred to not as “dead bodies,” but as “cadavers.”
Even so, until the incident had been deemed a vampiric crime, it had been written with the characters for “dead body.” In dubio pro reo. When it had been determined that the incident fell under the jurisdiction of the Vampire Squad, “dead body” had been exchanged for “cadaver.”
The August 3 discovery of a cadaver with a stake driven through its heart in Inokashira Park was not the end of the story. Five days later, in the Inokashira Park zoo, a second body had been found, and seven days after the original incident a third body appeared on the grounds of G-Art Gallery, adjacent to the park.
“The first victim’s name was Tōru Ishikawa, and he was twenty-eight years old. He was a vagrant, and unemployed. His blood type was B, and he had no history of disease. In good health, but poorly connected to society—a prime target for vampires. The last image of him alive was recorded in the morning on the day prior to the incident, by a security camera at a net café in front of Kichijōji Station. The second and third victims were similar. Blood type B, and we haven’t been able to contact any of the three men’s families.”
Everything Chief Yamamoto was saying was already known to the twenty or so Vampire Squad officers in the room. But one after another he flipped through the images on the screen.
As a matter of fact, it had come to light the previous day that the perpetrator of the three incidents at Inokashira Park had previously committed five other vampiric crimes. These five newly discovered crimes were identical to the more recent three, with the victims having likewise sustained knife wounds from which their blood had been sucked. Moreover, hair and skin cells collected at the scenes suggested that a vampire was involved, and DNA analysis had confirmed that it was the same vampire in all cases.