by Косюн Таками
"Did you know there was a country called the South Korean People's Republic?" Shogo asked. Shuya looked at Shogo, who was staring at a pink azalea flower on a tree branch right in front of them.
It seemed irrelevant, but Shuya answered anyway, "Yeah, it was the southern half of the current Democratic Nation of the Korean Peninsula, right?"
You could learn about what was known as the South Korean People's Republic and the Democratic Nation of the Korean Peninsula—and the civil strife between the two Korean nations immediately west of the Republic of Greater East Asia's inland sea—in a textbook: "Although our relations with SKPR were cordial, due to conspiracies concocted by the imperialists of the United States and the DNKP, the SKPR was annexed by the DNKP." (Of course, following this explanation, the summary would continue, "Our nation must immediately oust the Korean Peninsula imperialists and annex this country not only for the freedom and democracy of the Korean people, but in order to progress towards our goal in attaining the co-existence of Greater East Asia peoples."
"That's right," Shogo nodded. "That country was just like ours. An oppressive government and dictator, ideological propaganda, isolationism, and information control. And support for snitching. It failed though after forty years. But the Republic of Greater East Asia is doing quite well. Why do you think that is?"
Shuya thought about it. He hadn't really given it much thought, but the textbooks explained South Korea's defeat as "a cunning conspiracy instigated by the imperialists including the American imperialists" (The vocabulary employed in these textbook explanations was beyond junior high level.) But then why was the current Greater East Asia still prosperous? Of course the SKPR was geographically located right next to the DNKP but...
He shook his head. "I don't know."
Shogo looked at Shuya and nodded. "First of all, it's a question of balance."
"Balance?"
"That's right. While the SKPR was totalitarian—of course, this country is essentially totalitarian. But it employs a subtle, well, this just might have been a fortunate result, but it skillfully managed to leave little bits of freedom intact. By providing this kind of candy, they can proclaim, 'Of course, every citizen has the right to freedom. However, freedom must be controlled for the sake of the public good.' The claim actually sounds legit, huh?"
Shuya and Noriko silently waited for Shogo to continue.
"That was how the country became this way. Seventy-five years ago."
Noriko interrupted him, "Seventy-five years ago?" Hugging her knees under her pleated skirt, Noriko tilted her head with a puzzled look on her face.
Noriko then looked over at Shuya. Shuya nodded and then looked back at Shogo. "I heard something about how the history they teach us is a big lie and that the current Dictator is hardly the 325th Dictator. In fact, he's only supposed to be the twelfth one, right?"
Shinji Mimura had told him this. Noriko wouldn't know. It would never be taught at school and most adults kept their mouths shut about it (maybe they didn't even know), and even Shuya was appalled when he first heard it from Shinji. After all, this meant that before the appearance of the First Dictator less than eighty years ago—in other words, before the Great Revolution—the name of the country and system of government had been totally different. (Shinji had claimed, "Apparently, it was a feudal society. People wore these psychedelic hair styles called chonmage, and there was a caste system. But to be blunt, it was better than what we have today.")
Shuya glanced at Noriko's surprised face, but when he heard Shogo's next statement, "Well, even that might not be true," he raised his brow.
"What do you mean?"
Shogo smiled and said, "There is no Dictator. He doesn't exist. He's just made up. That's what I heard."
"What?"
"That can't be...," Noriko said hoarsely, "but we see him on the news...and on New Year's he makes an appearance in front of everyone at his palace..."
"Right." Shogo grinned. "But who is this everyone at the palace'? Have you ever met someone who was actually there? What if they were actors too, just like the Dictator?"
Shuya considered the possibility.... It made him nauseous. Nothing but lies, there was no truth. Everything felt uncertain.
"Is that really true?" he asked despondently.
"I don't know. It's just something I heard. But it seems likely to me."
"Where did you get that information? By computer on that thing called the Net?"
Shuya thought of Shinji Mimura when he asked him this, but Shogo only grinned again.
"Unfortunately, I'm no good with computers, but there are ways to find out if you want to. It seems likely, because that would allow the government to have no supreme authority. That way everyone at the center of the government would be equal. They would have equal freedom. Which means that their responsibilities are also equal. There would be no inequality. There'd be no objections. The only thing is that there has to be some subtle trick going on—The whole charade has to be kept secret from the general public. The leader figure just has to play a charismatic role."
Shogo took a deep breath and continued, "Anyway, that's neither here nor there. To get back to what I was saying, the country implemented this system, and it just kept on successfully evolving. What I mean by 'success' is that it succeeded as an industrialized nation. Even though the country stuck to isolationism, it traded with other countries that remained neutral, not only to us but to America as well, and imported raw materials from them and sold products to them. The products sold well. Of course they would. Their quality is really high. Serious competition against the U.S. The only things this country lags behind in are space technology and computers. But the high quality comes as a result of the individual's subservience to the group and an oppressive government. Still..." he stopped. He shook his head and continued, "I have a feeling that once we've reached this level of success even the people themselves are afraid of changing the system. With this kind of success, and this high standard of living, they won't be willing to make a few sacrifices, even if there may be a few little problems. And overthrowing the government would be out of the question."
Shogo looked over at Shuya again and gave him a sarcastic smile. "And one of the 'few little problems'? This wonderful game. Of course the students and their families might have been dealt a bad hand, but they're a small minority. Even the families eventually let it go. Sorrow passes with time."
Shogo's winding explanation finally returned to this stupid game, the pride of the Republic of Greater East Asia. Perhaps it was Shuya's grim frown that made Shogo ask, "What's up?"
Shuya replied, "I feel like puking." He finally began to understand exactly what Shinji Mimura meant when he said, "This is what they call 'successful fascism.' Where else in the world could you find something so sinister?" Shinji must have known and understood long ago everything Shuya had just learned.
"Ha! Wait till you hear this one. It'll make you sick." Shogo almost looked as if he were relishing this as he continued, "I think that the fundamental difference between the SKPR and this country is ethnic."
"Ethnic?"
Shogo nodded. "Yeah. In other words, I think that this system is tailor-made to fit the people of this country. In other words, their subservience to superiors. Blind submission. Dependence on others and group mentality. Conservatism and passive acceptance. Once they're taught something's supposedly a noble cause by serving the public good, they can reassure themselves they've done something good, even if it means snitching. It's pathetic. There's no room for pride, and you can forget about being rational. They can't think for themselves. Anything complicated enough sends their heads reeling. Makes me want to puke."
He was exactly right. It was completely revolting. Shuya felt his stomach turn.
That was when Noriko interrupted Shogo, "I don't agree at all."
Shuya and Shogo looked at Noriko. The way she was hugging her knees and hunched over, Shuya thought she was tired out. But she looked at both of them and spok
e clearly, "I didn't know about this. This is the first time I've ever heard any of this. But if what you just said is really true, and if everybody were really informed, I don't think they would sit still....It's because no one knows about this that we've ended up in this situation. You say we've always been like this, but I refuse to believe that. I'm not saying we're especially noble, but I think we're just as capable as any other people on this planet of thinking responsibly."
Shogo responded with a surprisingly kind and gentle smile. "I like what you just said."
Shuya meanwhile all of a sudden saw Noriko in a different light. She didn't really stick out in class, nor was she so outspoken she'd express her opinions the way she had just done now. It was odd, but ever since this game began he was seeing another side of Noriko. And maybe—it might only mean Shuya had been totally ignorant—Yoshitoki had perceived this side of her long ago.
Anyway it was a much more admirable response than his knee-jerk "It makes me want to puke." Once again she was absolutely right. No matter what, this was their country, the place where they were born and grew up (although he wasn't so sure how much more growing up was left for them). The U.S., a.k.a. the American Empire, might liberate this country some time in the future, but the fact was that this was their deal. They shouldn't, and in the end they couldn't, rely on others.
Shuya looked over at Shogo and asked him, "Hey Shogo. Do you think we can change this country?"
Much to Shuya's disappointment Shogo shook his head. He thought that, given his pledge to "tear up this fucked up country," he would reply affirmatively, that they would change it.
Shuya said somewhat clumsily, "But you just said you'd tear up this country."
Shogo lit a cigarette, which he hadn't done in a while, and then folded his arms. "I'll tell you what I think." He unfolded his arms, removed the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I think history comes in waves."
Shuya didn't understand, but before he could ask what he meant, Shogo continued, "At some point in time, when the situation is ripe, this country will change. I don't know whether it will happen in the form of a war or a revolution. And I have no idea when the time will come. For all I know it may never happen."
Shogo took another drag and then exhaled. "In any case, right now I don't think it's possible. Just like I said, this country is insane, but it's also well run. Extremely well run." Shogo pointed at them, the cigarette between his fingers. "Now here we have a rotten nation. If you can't stand it, then the wisest thing to do would be to abandon it and go somewhere else. There are ways to escape this country. Then you can avoid the stench. You might get homesick once in a while, but life outside would be grand...but I'm not doing that."
Shuya rubbed his hand against his thigh. He was hoping Shogo's statement would correspond with his thoughts: I want to do something here because in the end this is my country. Didn't Bob Marley sing, "Get up, stand up...you can't fool all the people all the time"?
But Shogo's response fell short of this expectation.
"I'm doing this for myself. I want revenge... even if it's for my self-satisfaction...! want to strike against this country. That's all. I really doubt it'll actually lead to change in this country in the long run."
Shuya took a short breath...then uttered, "This sounds hopeless."
"It is hopeless," Shogo replied.
25 students remaining
32
When they heard the two distant shots, Yutaka cringed. Shinji stopped typing on the keyboard.
"Hey—"
Shinji nodded. "Another gunshot."
He quickly returned to his computer, though. It seemed harsh, but he couldn't afford to be concerned with others.
Yutaka looked down at Shinji's fingers. He was holding the Beretta. Shinji had handed it to his towel-bandaged hand and requested he keep watch.
"Hey, Shinji. What are you trying to find on that laptop? Won't you tell me now?" After Shinji had booted up the communications software and dialed up with the cellular phone, he kept typing away at that keyboard, only occasionally exclaiming "Bingo! Bingo! Bingo!" or "Oh damn, oh yeah, right," without giving Yutaka a single explanation.
"Hold on a sec. I'm almost there."
Shinji was typing again. At the center of the gray screen, English sentences interspersed with "%" and "#" characters streamed by. Shinji seemed to be responding to them.
"All right."
Shinji stopped typing after the requested data began to download. The basic operation was Unix, but he'd set up a separate graphics window to indicate the download status in Mac format. Shinji stretched his arms over his head. Now he'd just have to wait for the download to be completed (of course once it was he'd have to rewrite the log entry to erase all traces of his operation). Then he had to come up with a strategy based on the data he received. He'd either have to rewrite the data or come up with his own program to deceive his opponents. The latter would be a hassle, but he probably wouldn't need more than half a day to do the job.
"Shinji, tell me what's going on," Yutaka insisted. Shinji smiled, moved back from the laptop, and leaned against the tree again. He had to admit, this was exciting. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. It was only natural, though. Although he wasn't sure when he told Yutaka, "It's a PowerBook 150," now he was certain— they were going to win.
He spoke slowly, "I've been trying to figure out how to escape." Yutaka nodded.
"And so..." Shinji pointed to his neck. He himself couldn't see it, but he assumed Yutaka could see the silver collar wrapped around his neck, the same one Yutaka had on his neck. "The first thing I wanted was to get rid of this. This is giving our positions away to that bastard Sakamochi. For example, the fact that we're together. Thanks to this device, even if we try to escape, they'll locate us, or worse yet, they can just send a signal to blow up the collars and kill us. So I needed to figure out how to get rid of this collar."
Shinji opened up his hand. Then he shrugged. "But I gave up. You can't pry it loose without knowing how it's built. Sakamochi said it would explode if you took it apart, and I doubt he was bluffing. The outer casing must be loaded with a fuse wire for the device. It's probably set to ignite once you cut it. It's too dangerous to cross that bridge. I thought of inserting a metal plate inside the band, but it would be too thin to protect my neck from being blown to bits." Yutaka nodded again.
"That's how I came up with the idea of controlling the school computer that's tracking us and controlling the ignition signal. Get it?"
It was of course his uncle who'd taught him the basics of computer programming, but ever since his death Shinji was as passionate about improving his skills on his uncle's computer as he was about basketball. As a result he became extremely adept. He learned how to tap into an international line that was strictly prohibited by the government and obtain even higher levels of computer skills and new information on the entire world through the real internet. (What the nation called "the internet" was really a joke, a closed net referred to as "Greater East Asia Net.") While he might not be executed for these actions, they were illegal enough to send him away for a two-year stint at a juvenile prison for ideological offenses. That was how he acquired the skill to escape detection. Of course he never told anyone about it, but he'd shown some websites to Yutaka (mostly pornographic ones, come on, gimme a break). In short, Shinji was good at computer hacking.
"I looked for a personal computer. I already had a cell. I guess you're allowed to keep your stuff in this stupid game. I should have brought my notes, but I can't complain, since I found this laptop. Now all I needed was electricity. I yanked that battery out of a car. I had to adjust the voltage, but that was pretty easy."
As Shinji explained, Yutaka finally began to grasp how the PowerBook and cell phone functioned together. But then a thought suddenly occurred to him and he said, "Hey, but didn't Sakamochi say we couldn't use phones? So cell phones are an exception?"
Shinji shook his head. "No, they won't work.
I tried the number for the weather report and Sakamochi's voice chimed in, 'A beautiful day at the Shiroiwa Junior High Program Headquarters.' I was so pissed I immediately hung up. So they're controlling the nearest cellular transmitter. My guess is none of the phone companies will work here."
"Then..."
Shinji lifted his finger, interrupting Yutaka. "Think about it. Their communication system has to reach beyond this island. I mean, their computers must be linked to the central government's for security purposes. Then how would they do that? It's simple. They've selectively employed numbers for military purposes from the cellular phone lines."
"So that means..."
Shinji interrupted Yutaka again and grinned. "But even if that were the case, I thought...they must have at least made some minimal effort to protect themselves from anyone at the telephone company tampering with their lines."
Shinji reached out for the cell phone on the ground. Then he said, "I didn't tell you, but my cell is a custom model. It has two types of ROM memory for phone numbers and passwords. You can't tell looking at it, but you can switch the other one on by turning this screw ninety degrees. And this other number is something I came up with just for fun to make free calls " He let go of his phone and continued, "It's the cellular number used by phone company technicians to test phone lines."
"Then... that means..."
Shinji winked. "That's right. Bingo! The rest is simple. It was a bit of a pain to hook up the phone modem to the cellular. It's not like they came with tools. But I managed to do it. So that's how I got my line. Then I accessed my computer at home. I can't hack with your average communications software, so I downloaded my special tools—like codebreaking software. Then I went for the prefectural government's site. The central government's operations must have high quality security systems, but I figured the prefectural government's systems would be easy to break into. My hunch turned out to be right. Even though this game is directly managed by the central government, it must have some contact with the government branch of the prefecture where the game's taking place. I was right about that too. There were a lot of unfamiliar addresses in their communications log files. Going through e-mails I found one to the superintendent, notifying him of the game's commencement. I broke into the sender's website, in other words, the temporary server for the school building on this island. It took some work, but as I poked around as much as I could without getting caught, I found an operation backup file they'd completely spaced out on. So I took that. In other words, I found a strange code that seemed important. I've been having the Mac break the code before I hooked up with you. So that's what I was up to."