Tesseracts Twelve: New Novellas of Canadian Fantastic Fiction

by Claude Lalumiere

  “It sounds like a dreadful dream,” said Akemi, in a matter-of-fact voice. “What do you think it means?”

  Satoshi folded her in his arms; it made him feel better, somehow. “I don’t know.” An idea occurred to him. It was starving? “It seems pretty clear to me, now that we’re talking about it, that it has something to do with the rice problem here. But what? Are demons cursing the crops? Surely exorcisms have been performed.”

  “Perhaps you have to have this dream again, in order to understand it.”

  “I do not want to see that creature again.”

  She kissed his neck, gently. “You may have to, eventually,” she said. “To make the dream go away.”

  He felt his body stirring with the soft touch of her lips. “I can think of much nicer ways to make bad dreams go away,” he said. “You’re a dream yourself, Akemi.” He slid a fingertip slowly down the centre of her nightrobe, parting it to expose her pale skin. “Tell me, my concubine, do you miss Prince Isao?”

  Akemi stretched, wriggling sensuously as his finger traced her further. “Prince Isao?” she said. He heard her smiling, wickedly. “Do you really think I was anything but a decorative bed-warmer to Prince Isao?”

  He couldn’t think of an answer. “I didn’t know,” he said, finally.

  “I was relieved to be nothing more than a bed-warmer,” said Akemi. “That whiny, arrogant voice of his, and those whiny, arrogant thoughts… the idea of lying with him turned my stomach. I only went to him because my family is involved in a dispute with a daimyo, and I thought Prince Isao might help them. But I don’t want to be an old man’s bed-warmer, Hirota-san. I need more than that, and he knew it. I was so glad when he gave me to you.”

  “And you — you are pleased to belong to me, Akemi?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, and he heard her smile again. “Very pleased.”

  “But is that not what a concubine always says?”

  She rose up on one elbow. He could feel her looking down at him.

  “Not this one,” she said.

  Satoshi grinned widely in the half-dark. “Good,” he said. “Now let me give you what you need.” And he heard her groan of pleasure as he spread her robe with both hands.

  Have I ever seen anything, Satoshi wondered, quite as depressing as these fields? He crouched down to pick up a brittle, splintering stalk whose head was so atrophied not even the birds had wanted it. On the far side of the field, Hideki — already bored, evidently — threw a stone at a crow. “I hope you were able to salvage at least something from this, Bunya-san.”

  “We got a few koku,” the samurai said, “but for the most part we’ve all been eating millet and burdock for two years now.”

  “Four harvests.” Satoshi stood, regretting every bite he’d taken since arriving in Nikawa. He looked closely at Bunya, seeing more clearly now the lines furrowing a face made thin by hunger. “I’m sorry it has taken so long for us to address this.”

  “Please don’t apologize, Hirota-san. This is our fault. I only wish—”

  “Yes, I know exactly what you mean.” Satoshi stared at the dead rice, willing it to reveal the secret of its demise. “I wish it hadn’t come to this, too. For your sake as much as mine.” He crumbled the stalk and let it fall. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. If the solution to this problem was in your fields, you’d have found it by now.” He scuffed the soil with his boot. “What do your farmers tell you about this soil? It seems unusually dry to me, even for this time of year.” It looked pale and grey; the soil in his dream had been almost black — rich and moist and full of life even in the midst of death and blood.

  “They say the soil seems to be dying, my lord. But that makes no sense. Farmers are a suspicious lot, and we can’t always take what they say at face value. How could the soil be dying?”

  “I don’t know about the soil, but I’m dying for a drink,” Hideki said, more loudly than was necessary. “I’m freezing my balls off out here!”

  “Try looking for useful information instead of fighting with birds. You’ll never win against a crow.” Satoshi bit back the further insult that had been forming in his mind— Why am I so angry with everyone? —and turned back to Bunya. “I don’t know anything about farming, I’m afraid. But soil is alive, isn’t it? Soil has kami in it or around it, or what are farmers making offerings to? So perhaps they’re right. Maybe something is killing the soil.” He remembered the weird, starving man-thing from his dream. Could that have been a rice-field kami?

  “Or is it that the soil is starving,” he said, “the same way people here are starving? Perhaps Nikawa is under some sort of curse.”

  “They’ve read the sutras!” Hideki shouted from across the field. “They’ve done the exorcisms! If it was a curse we’d know about it! Now can we please go someplace warm?”

  “We are not finished here yet!” Satoshi kicked at the dirt, sending rice straw flying. “Damn it, Hideki,” he said to himself.

  “I am sorry that this is so displeasing to you and your friend,” Bunya began.

  “No, don’t.” Waving away the headman’s apology, Satoshi found he was smiling in spite of himself. “The truth is, I envy Hideki-san. He’s not even supposed to be here; only his loyalty to me keeps him in my company, much less out in the fields on a cold morning. If I had my way, Bunya-san, I’d be hunkered down someplace warm. I just don’t have the courage to say so, the way Hideki-san does.”

  “You two are clearly good friends,” Bunya said, but his smile was uncertain.

  “And it’s your bad karma, Bunya-san, to have to put up with us.” Satoshi looked down at sickly soil and dead straw. “Let’s check the edges of the field. If someone’s been poisoning your soil, there might be some evidence of it on the verges.”

  When he looked up again after a few minutes of fruitless examination, Hideki was gone.

  “I don’t suppose he was being much help anyway,” Satoshi said. “But did you see him leaving, Bunya-san?”

  “I did not, lord. I’m pretty sure I know where he went, though.”

  “Oh? Are you blessed with second sight?”

  “No, but I do know that the River House is only a few minutes’ walk through those trees.”

  Satoshi laughed. “Is the shochu really as good as the reports have it?”

  “Oh, better than that, my lord.” Bunya smiled. For a change Satoshi saw neither uncertainty nor fatigue in it, saw only the sort of pride that proved his devotion to this han and this town.

  “Perhaps we have, then, earned ourselves a bit of a rest and a warming drink.” Satoshi pointed to the woods. “Take me to your shochu, Headman Bunya.”

  The River House, up close, was a building whose pleasant proportions would have been improved by a new roof and a little paint; but inside it was warm, and the somewhat shabby interior took nothing away from the congenial atmosphere. A group of travellers, pausing on their way from one town to the next, had apparently broken their journey and were catching a quick cup before heading back out on the road, chatting with one or two local farmers who were seeking refreshment. The farmers, Satoshi noticed, looked dispirited — and thin.

  Satoshi saw Hideki, who was at a table in the corner with a flask of shochu and two cups before him. “There you are, brother,” Hideki said, raising a hand. “I figured you’d be here before too long, so I took the liberty of claiming a cup for you. Oh, and Bunya-san, I’ll get one for you, too. It’s much more pleasant in here than out in that chilly field; though a few women about the place would make the interior much more attractive, don’t you think?”

  Satoshi wasn’t certain whether Bunya was amused at Hideki, or annoyed by him. Probably both. “Have you started on that flask already?” he asked, as he and Bunya joined Hideki at the table.

  “Just unsealed it,” said Hideki, making a gesture to the tavern keeper a
bout the addition of a third cup. “Haven’t had the chance to taste it yet. You’ve come in good time.”

  The third cup arrived. “I’ll do the honours,” said Hideki, pouring a good measure of shochu for each of them.

  “Kanpai,” said Satoshi. They raised their cups and drank. Satoshi was impressed. The shochu was smooth, yet bright in flavour, not too sweet, and slightly stronger than the standard. “Delicious,” he said. “No wonder your district is known for this.”

  “Oh, yes, this is good stuff,” said Hideki. “Much, much better than the slop I’ve had in the capital. Good kick, too.”

  Bunya smiled. “I am glad you’re enjoying it,” he said, looking pleased. A moment later, he seemed to sag. “I hope we’ll continue to be famous for shochu. Hope we’ll be able to.”

  “You will, Bunya-san,” said Satoshi, with a confidence he didn’t feel. “I’m sure we’ll be able to solve your problem, with enough investigation.”

  Bunya sipped at his shochu, as though it had lost its flavour. “I — I appreciate your confidence, and your help,” he said, sounding careful, “but I will certainly understand if you can’t resolve this situation, Hirota-san. It may be beyond anyone’s power to change it.”

  Satoshi felt his jaw tighten up. “I refuse to believe that,” he said. “Between the three of us, we’ll fix this. There’s no reason why we can’t.”

  Bunya nodded. By his face, he was still doubtful, but grateful for Satoshi’s optimism. He looked as though he had none of his own left.

  “And if we can’t,” Hideki added, cheerfully tossing off the rest of his shochu, “we’ll at least have enough for a couple of good drunken weeks, before the alcohol runs out.”

  Satoshi saw Bunya’s expression fall. He felt a sharp stab of anger. “Oh, Hideki, for the love of Buddha, shut up, will you?” he said. “If you can’t provide us with anything but cheap jokes, you might as well stay here and soak yourself in sake.”

  Hideki grinned. “My purpose is accomplished,” he said. “I don’t suppose you could front me some cash? I seem to have left my purse back at your house, Bunya-san.”

  Satoshi sighed. “Here,” he said, fishing a handful of coins out of the bag he carried as he and Bunya rose. “Have fun.”

  “Why, thank you, brother,” said Hideki, receiving the coins with a bow so correct that he seemed like a caricature of himself. “Join me later, why don’t you? Shame to work so hard, on such a beautiful day.”

  “How would you know?” said Satoshi, sharply. “You haven’t worked at all since we started this exercise.”

  Hideki waved a hand. Satoshi turned away and strode the length of the tavern to the back door. To his horror, he caught himself wondering why he’d brought Hideki along. Great, he thought. I’m turning into my brother. May as well open my belly right now.

  Bunya followed him out. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord,” he began. He looked very uncomfortable. “I have administrative work I must do. These men” —he gestured at a trio of farmers standing just beyond the tavern’s privy— “are at your disposal.”

  Satoshi spent only a quarter hour with Bunya’s men, discovering nothing in the rice fields but an increasing sense of futility. “I am going back to speak with your master,” he said, eventually. “I think a few questions may be in order. We’re learning nothing here.”

  The tallest man looked at him, too polite to come right out and say, Of course we’re not, you idiot, what did you expect?

  “Well, I have to investigate,” Satoshi said, answering the unspoken comment. “If I don’t check everything out thoroughly, I might miss something obvious. Which I suppose I might be doing anyway. Let’s go, shall we? I’m sure you don’t want to spend the whole day out here; I know I don’t.”

  “Yes, Hirota-sama,” said the tall man, more agreeable now. “That is very sensible, I think.”

  The sun was midway between noon and setting when they got back to Bunya’s house. The headman was there to greet them, offering Satoshi green tea and a few tiny salted fish. Satoshi ate one to be polite, feeling guilty; he knew that Bunya, like the other villagers, hadn’t any food to spare.

  “And may I be allowed to ask how you have progressed, Hirota-sama?” Bunya asked, after they had made a little mannerly conversation.

  Satoshi looked at Bunya over his teacup. “So far,” he said, “I haven’t found anything useful at all. I suspect, however, that this is not news to you.”

  Bunya sighed. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “We haven’t found anything, either.”

  Satoshi sipped his tea, and thought for a moment. “What have you done so far, then?” he asked. “In terms of trying to solve the problem, I mean.”

  Bunya eyed him closely. “As I told you, we put extra fertilizer on the crops,” the headman said. “And it didn’t work. So we assumed that likely the trouble was with spirits. As a village, we made extra offerings to our ancestral kami. We performed all the seasonal rituals on the most auspicious days. We went through all the procedures for invoking spirits to help the crops … we prayed to our lord Buddha, and to all the kami we could think of. We even performed ritual exorcisms and atonements, in case it was an evil spirit in the soil, or some villager’s bad deed coming back to curse us all. Nothing has worked, Hirota-san. Nothing we’ve thought of, nothing we’ve done. I tell you, we are about ready to give up.”

  Satoshi fingered his chin, wondering how he was supposed to solve a problem that an entire village couldn’t fathom. Bunya seemed to have thought of every possible solution. And Bunya didn’t strike Satoshi as a man who gave up easily.

  Hideki doesn’t, either, Satoshi thought. Not usually. He felt a deep frown form on his face, and he deliberately removed it.

  The sun had set by the time the rest of the pleasantries were over. Satoshi took his leave of Bunya for the evening, promising to be back later that night, and stopped in briefly to greet Akemi as she chatted with Bunya’s wife. He noticed concern in her eyes, behind her polite smile and conventional courtesies. He smiled back at her, trying to look reassuring, then let himself out into the early dark.

  He found the path to the river easily enough in the remains of the sunset and let his feet move him along it. Hideki would still be at the River House, three parts drunk and beyond all responsibility. Satoshi realized that the irritation of the afternoon still mingled with envy for his friend’s freedom. Bunya’s last words to him had been, “Why don’t you get a little tipsy tonight, Hirota-san? I think you deserve it; and maybe it’ll inspire you to think of something we haven’t considered.”

  A little tipsy is as drunk as I dare get, Satoshi thought, disgusted. It was alright for Hideki. Hideki didn’t have Masa on his back, ready to slice his head off at the slightest provocation. Hideki wasn’t forever having to walk on eggs around a brother who was so afraid of failure that he made everyone in the vicinity afraid of him.

  Satoshi pulled his jacket closer around him, hearing his boots crunch on dead leaves as he walked. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but that really was Masa’s problem: not just that he felt pressure to fill his father’s shoes but that he was afraid he wasn’t up to the task. And that poisoned all Masa’s efforts to do the job, put him at odds with everyone who didn’t share his purpose of the moment. He couldn’t be flexible, because in his fear he equated flexibility with weakness, and he was terrified of appearing weak.

  The River House’s privy had seen better days. The makeshift door stuck as he slid it aside, and the smell was worse than he’d expected. Satoshi held the lamp up, prepared for something less than pleasant.

  He froze. The creature from his nightmare was squatting over the toilet hole, reaching down it with one hand and stuffing feces into its mouth with the other. Its wizened genitals swung beneath its bloated belly as it moved. Its neck looked too scrawny for anything to pass
through; but as Satoshi stared in horror, the creature swallowed, and the lump slid visibly down its emaciated throat. It turned its head and looked at Satoshi with huge, hungry eyes, and he realized that it had once been human.

  Satoshi shrieked, backing away. The reflex of a lifetime spent in wooden buildings kept the lamp clamped in his grip, but it hit the ground anyway when he stumbled and fell backward.

  The lamp guttered out. Satoshi sat up, feeling his throat close with fear at the sight of the odd, sickly glow leaking through the open privy door. He scrambled to his feet, and caught a brief glimpse of the creature. Then the glow faded and was gone.

  He turned and hurled himself toward the back door of the tavern, his only thought to get away from whatever that thing was in the privy.

  He stumbled into the tavern from the rear and made straight for Hideki, who sat at a small table in a corner, working on his third flask of sake and eyeing a lovely young woman across the room. Satoshi landed, more than sat, at the table.

  Hideki looked at him over the rim of his sake cup. “Great heavens, brother,” he said, “you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Satoshi realized his hands were shaking. “I’ve certainly seen something,” he said. “Something horrible, in the privy out back.”

  Hideki giggled. “Well, they don’t clean it very often.”

  “Not like that,” said Satoshi. “Pour me some sake. I need it.”

  Hideki’s thick brows knit with concern as he filled his sake cup. “What happened?” he asked, handing the cup to his friend.

  Satoshi tossed it off in a single swallow. “More,” he said, passing the cup back to Hideki and watching him fill it.

  “I saw this … thing in the privy,” said Satoshi, sipping the second cup more slowly. “It had horrible red hair sticking out on its head, and it was thin and bloated, and naked, with wizened-up privates and a skinny neck like a crane, and it was eating shit. It … it glowed, Hideki. And I was so scared I fell over backward, and the lantern went out, and I could see the glow coming from the privy, and then it just disappeared. I dreamed about something like this monster a couple of nights ago. But — this was real, Hide-kun, as real as you. Either that, or you’re not real either, and I’m somewhere in a bed with people watching over me to make sure I don’t do myself an injury. Do you have any ideas about what the hell that thing was?”