Sakamochi gave Kawada a meaningful stare.
Right away, Kawada said, "Huh," and Sakamochi leaned back into the armchair.
"None of that means anything," Kawada said. "The collar's electronics are classified, right? No junior high student would know what was inside them."
But Sakamochi said, "Wrong."
Kawada looked at him.
"That's the real issue here," Sakamochi said. "All that information I looked up—your records from the last game, the stuff about the
Guadalcanal device—now, normally, I wouldn't have looked into any of that. I would have just thought, 'Oh, that Kawada is a clever boy,' and that probably would have been the end of it. But this time, you see, I was contacted by the Secretariat and the Nonaggressive Forces before the game. Just before, actually—the message came on the twentieth."
Kawada's eyes were locked on him.
Sakamochi continued, "They told me someone hacked into Central Processing sometime in March."
He left a pause, then said, "I think the hacker believed he got away undetected. He was good too—when he ran into the administrator inside our system, he even remembered to delete the access log before he fled. But..."
Sakamochi left another pause. Kawada didn't say anything.
"But the government's systems aren't so easy to beat. They keep a second, hidden log—a backup of all operations in the system. Usually, nobody bothers to check it, and the administrator didn't think anything was wrong at the time, so the discovery came quite late. But they found out. Oh, they certainly found out."
Kawada's lips tightened. He watched Sakamochi's face. Almost indiscernibly, his Adam's apple moved.
"Let me just say," Kawada said, "I really did hear about how they dispose of the bodies from one of the workers. I met him having a few drinks and we got to talking. And I knew that hardly any of the games end due to the time limit because the guy in your role told me in my last game. You can ask him."
Sakamochi covered his mouth with his fist and stared at Kawada.
"Why are you telling me this? I wasn't asking you."
Kawada's Adam's apple moved again—and this time, it was obvious.
Sakamochi chuckled and got back to talking. "So anyway, the data that hacker stole included information about the Program—including technical information on the Guadalcanal collars. Now why do you think he would want to know about a boring little thing like that? That would be pointless, right? If he let it get out to the public, the government would simply make a new design, and that would be that. Anyway, there's been no sign of the plans being leaked as of yet. But what we can say is this: for whatever reason, the intruder must have really wanted that information. Am I wrong?"
Kawada didn't respond. Sakamochi sighed and picked up the envelope he'd tossed onto the table. He turned it upside down, shook it, and pulled out what was inside. He placed the contents side by side on the table in front of Kawada.
There were two photographs, both black-and-white and roughly the size of notebook paper. One was too dark for Kawada to make out anything in the picture, but the other clearly showed a truck surrounded by three black dots. From the overhead angle of the shot, the dots must have been the tops of three people's heads.
"You know what that is, right?" Sakamochi asked. "That's the three of you from just a little bit ago. It's right after you killed Kiriyama. It was taken by a satellite—not that we usually bother to do that sort of thing. Now what I want you to look at is the other photo. Well? What do you see? Almost nothing, right? This one is part of the mountain. It's a picture of you shooting the other two. It's too dark, and the trees block almost everything. Do you understand? There's nothing to see."
Silence fell. The boat swayed a little, but Kawada and Sakamochi stared at each other without moving a muscle.
Then Sakamochi sighed and brushed his hair back behind his ear. He grinned and said in a chummy tone, "Hey, Kawada. I've been keeping track of this whole game. And when you shot Nanahara and Nakagawa, well, when you shot, at least, Nanahara took fifty-four seconds to die, and Nakagawa took a full minute and thirty seconds. I'd expect them to die immediately, since you only need one shot to finish each of them off. So then, what's that delay?"
Kawada remained silent. Whether he was aware of it or not, his face had stiffened. But still, he managed to say, "It can happen. I thought they'd died immediately, but—"
Sakamochi interrupted him. Perhaps it was overdue. "Just stop, Kawada." His voice was firm. "Okay? Let's get this over with."
He looked into Kawada's eyes and gave him an admonitory nod.
Then he said, "Nanahara and Nakagawa are still on that island. They're alive. They're hiding on the mountain. You're the one who broke into the government network. You knew how to remove the collars. And you knew we could hear you, so you staged that radio drama of you shooting the other two. Then you took off their collars. Am I wrong? I shouldn't have said it was a brilliant performance—because it is one. You're still putting it on."
Kawada watched Sakamochi with narrowed eyes. His teeth were clenched, and it showed.
Still smiling, Sakamochi continued, "You gave them each a note with a place they could contact you, right? So you were going to meet them later, were you? Well, it's all over now. That helicopter went to spray the island with poison gas. It's a newly developed composite poison and mustard gas called Republic of Greater East Asia Triumphant Victory #2—or GREAT Victory #2. I've also kept the guard ships in place. Nanahara and Nakagawa are finished."
Kawada's fingers were digging into the synthetic leather of the armrests. Sakamochi sighed again and sank deep into his chair.
"There's no precedent for this," he said. "Strictly speaking, you're not really the winner. But I owe a favor or two to one of the officials on the education committee who has bet an awful lot of money on you. I've decided to handle this as an internal matter. If that official spreads around a good word about me, I can go far. So, officially, you're the winner, and you killed those two. That must feel satisfying, eh, Kawada?"
Kawada had gone completely stiff, as if he might start shaking at any moment. But as Sakamochi raised his eyebrows, Kawada forcefully turned his head away, dropped his gaze to the floor, and said, "I. . . don't know what you're talking about."
Nervously, he clenched and unclenched his fists. His eyes flicked back to Sakamochi. With his voice sounding a little anxious, he said, "Why don't you call off that helicopter? You're just wasting tax money."
Sakamochi chuckled. "We'll see about that after it's done."
Then he added, "Oh, and one more thing." He drew a small pistol from his breast pocket. He pointed it at Kawada.
"I've decided to handle you as an internal matter as well. You have dangerous ideas. I don't think that allowing someone like you to live would be in our country's best interests. If you find a rotten tangerine in the crate, you throw it away—and the sooner the better. Before we could get you to the hospital, you died of injuries received during the game. How's that sound? Oh, and don't you worry—if you have any allies, we'll find them. We don't need to bother with an interrogation."
Kawada slowly looked from the barrel of the gun up to Sakamochi's face. "You ..."
He bared his teeth. Sakamochi grinned.
"You bastard!" Kawada howled, his voice filled with rage and despair, and maybe even a little fear in the face of the incomprehensible. What he really wanted was to get his hands on Sakamochi, but with the gun aimed at him, all he could do was clutch at his knees.
"You . . . Don't you have any kids? Don't you see how fucked up this game is?"
"Sure I have children," Sakamochi said, utterly calm. "You know, I like to have a good time, so we're about to have our third."
Kawada didn't acknowledge the wisecrack. Instead, he shouted, "Then how can you accept this? Your children might end up in this fucking game too! Or—or is that it? Do you rank high enough that your kids are exempt?"
Sakamochi shook his head as if he were s
hocked by the accusation. "That's preposterous. What are you saying, Kawada? Didn't you read the Program guidelines? Did you see any exceptions? Sure, sometimes I do things that are less than entirely honest. I've used my connections to get my daughter into a prestigious elementary school. I'm only human. But there are certain rules to which a human must adhere. Oh, that's right, you didn't get far enough to steal that document, did you? Some of the top secret files contain information on the Program. Well, since you didn't get to read them, I'll fill you in.
This country needs the Program. And no, not as some military experiment—that's a fabrication, of course. Come on, why do you think we broadcast video of the winners on the local news? Sure, seeing that, a person might feel sorry for the child, and maybe they're thinking about how the poor kid probably didn't even want to play the game. But the child was left with no choice but to fight the others. It serves to remind everyone that in the end they can't trust anyone. And soon, nobody's even thinking about banding together and staging a revolution. The Republic of Greater East Asia, and its ideals, will live on forever. And for the sake of such a lofty goal, everyone needs to die equally. I've taught my own children as much. My oldest—she's in second grade now—she's always saying how she'd give her life for the Republic."
Kawada's cheeks were trembling. "You're mad," he said. "You're insane! How can you live like that?" He sounded on the verge of tears. "The government should serve its people. We don't live for the sake of the system. If you think this country is right. . . then you're insane!"
Sakamochi waited for Kawada to finish. Then he said, "Listen, Kawada. You're still a child. It sounds like you've talked about this before, but I want you to really think about it. This is a magnificent country. No other country anywhere in the world is as prosperous. Sure, overseas travel is a little restricted, but the quality of our exports is second to none. When our government boasts about our per-capita GDP, that's no mere propaganda. It's the truth. We've the highest in the world. But the thing is, and listen to this now, that prosperity can only be achieved through a strong government and a people united around it. A certain level of control is a constant necessity. Otherwise, we'd decay into some third-rate country, like the American Empire. You've heard what things are like over there, haven't you? The country is a total mess, rife with drugs and violence and homosexuality. It's surviving only on its past legacy, but it'll collapse soon enough."
Kawada remained silent for a time. He appeared to be clenching his teeth. Then, quietly, he spoke.
"Just let me say one thing."
Sakamochi raised his eyebrows. "What is it? Go ahead, say it." "Your kind might call it prosperity ..." His voice sounded weary but possessed a core of conviction. "But it'll always be a fraud. Even if you kill me here, that truth won't change. You'll always be a fraud. Remember that."
Sakamochi shrugged. "Are you finished speaking?"
He pointed the gun straight between Kawada's eyes. Kawada pressed his lips together and stared not at the barrel of the gun but at Sakamochi behind it. Maybe that was his way of saying he was ready.
"Bye, Kawada."
Sakamochi gave him a small nod of farewell. His finger tightened on the trigger.
A typewriter-like brattattattat shook the air.
Sakamochi's finger froze. For a split second, his eyes went to the door—along with his attention.
By the time he looked back, Kawada was right in front of him. Table or no table, the student had appeared a mere ten centimeters away. It was as if he'd teleported there, like a wizard, or at least someone with supernatural powers.
The brattattat, brattattattat continued outside.
With one hand, Kawada forced down Sakamochi's gun. With the two of them close enough to kiss, Sakamochi, strangely still, watched Kawada's face. His long hair didn't fall out of place. He didn't try to shake free from Kawada's grasp. Without a word, he simply watched Kawada.
Again the brattattattat came.
The door opened. The soldier, Nomura, started to say, "It's an attack—" but when he saw Kawada and Sakamochi, he began to raise his rifle.
Still clutching Sakamochi's hand, Kawada twisted the man around as if they were dancing the tango. As he did, he pushed Sakamochi's finger down on the trigger and fired. Nomura took three bullets just above his heart, groaned, stumbled back and collapsed. The next brattattattat sounded far louder with the door open.
Kawada looked into Sakamochi's eyes. With their bodies pressing together, Kawada brought his clenched hand under Sakamochi's chin and twisted his fist.
Staring at Kawada with his eyes wide open, Sakamochi coughed out blood. The red liquid spilled out from his lips, ran down his chin, and dripped to the floor.
"I told you it was a waste of tax money."
Shogo Kawada twisted his hand again. Sakamochi's eyes left Kawada as they slowly rolled upward.
Kawada stepped back, and Sakamochi slumped into the armchair. His chin tilted back to reveal a brown stick poking out from his windpipe like some bizarre necklace. A closer inspection would find the small, silver letters, "HB," etched near its end. The pencil was, of course, one of the very same ones with which Kawada and Shuya and everyone else had written, We will kill each other. But Kinpatsu Sakamochi likely died not even knowing it was a pencil at all.
Kawada held his eyes on him for only a brief moment before tucking Sakamochi's pistol into the front of his slacks. He ran over to Nomura, who was face up on the floor, and he scooped up the soldier's rifle. He swiped the spare magazines from Nomura's belt and exited the room. Down the corridor to the right were two doors. He opened one, and then the other, but each led to a room lined with bunk beds on either wall—and both rooms were vacant.
Another brattattattat came from somewhere nearby, and a soldier tumbled down the ladder at the end of the hall. He was the one called Kondo, now dead, and weaponless save for the sidearm in his hand— he must have assumed he'd be safe inside the ship now that the game had ended.
Kawada stepped around the body and into the ladderway. He looked up.
Shuya Nanahara (Boys #15), Ingram MAC-10 in hand, and Noriko Nakagawa (Girls #15) stood side by side, looking down at him. Both were sopping wet from head to toe.
Shuya had heard gunfire that wasn't his own and was worried he and Noriko were too late. Seeing Kawada safe at the bottom of the ladder, Shuya cried out in relief, "Kawada!"
Kawada came running up the stairs, carrying a rifle he must have taken from one of the soldiers.
"Are you all right?" Shuya asked.
"Yeah." Kawada nodded. "Mr. Sakamochi is dead. But did you take care of the others?"
"Everyone above deck. But we didn't see Nomura—"
"Then that's all of them. I took out Nomura."
Having said that, Kawada slipped past them and ran down the corridor toward the bridge. Shuya and Noriko followed.
Along the way, they came across one dead soldier in the corridor, and two more inside and outside the briefing room below the bridge. One was Tahara, and the others were navy men assigned to the vessel. Only Tahara was armed, and only with his sidearm. Shuya had dispatched them with the Ingram's automatic fire. Another two were out on the deck. They had been the first to die.
Kawada put his hand on the railing of the ladder leading up to the bridge. He glanced down at Tahara's corpse and said, "You were merciless, Nanahara."
"Yeah." Shuya nodded. "I was."
They followed the ladder up to the bridge, where two more sailors lay dead. The windows separating the three students from the darkness bore several holes from bullets that had either gone astray or had passed through the soldiers' bodies.
The ship was passing by an island—probably Megijima—lit with the lights of people in their homes. Shuya wondered if the sound of their gunfire had carried to the island or, for that matter, far across the surrounding sea. But even if it had, he wasn't concerned—sudden bursts of gunfire weren't an unusual occurrence in this country.
Kawada peered ahead
. Shuya and Noriko followed his gaze and saw what seemed to be a gravel barge approaching them on the right. Kawada took the wheel and made a small adjustment on the lever sticking out from its side.
As he steered, he said, "I hope the two of you didn't catch a cold."
"I'm good," Shuya said.
"And you, Noriko?"
She bobbed her head. "I'm fine."
The gravel barge was near now. Kawada watched ahead and said, "I'm sorry. It looks like I had the easy part this time."
"That's not true," Shuya said, looking back and forth between Kawada's hands at the wheel and the passing ship. "I wasn't in any condition to take on Sakamochi and his gun unarmed. No, we had the right man in the right job."
The barge's silhouette loomed larger and larger. But soon the ships glided past each other without event. The gravel barge's lights receded into the distance.
Kawada sighed in relief and let go of the wheel. Then he began working a complex array of buttons next to a gauge Shuya didn't understand how to read. Kawada kept his eyes on the panel until one of the indicator lights went out. Then he picked up the radio transceiver's handset. A voice came from the speaker.
"This is the Bisan Seto Vessel Traffic Service Center."
Kawada responded, "This is the Nonaggressive Forces Naval Vessel Registration DM245-3568. Requesting our current position."
"We cannot confirm your position at this time, DM245-2568. Are you having mechanical issues?"
"We seem to have a malfunction in our DPS navigation system. We're going to remain in position for an hour while we attempt a repair. Can you notify the other ships in our area?"
Battle Royale (Remastered) Page 55