The Mists of Osorezan

by Zoe Drake

  He was in there, fully dressed. His legs were folded up to his knees, his arms were crossed over his chest, his mouth was open and so were his eyes. Beneath the taps, Ishida’s dead eyes stared up from under the water.

  *

  Tetsuo Nozaki stood in the doorway to the bedroom, looking down at his wife. Her lower face was hidden by the sheet, her eyes were tightly shut. The soft sound of her breathing came from under the cover.

  He turned away and walked to the window, and opened the inner door with the paper screens. He stared through his own reflection in the glass at the mountains in the distance. If he opened the window and switched off the air-conditioner, he would be able to hear the crickets.

  Nozaki thought about the cicadas he had heard down in Tokyo. Bizarre, miraculous creatures, burrowing out of the earth after years of dormancy, emerging to fill the trees with their ugly, stubby bodies, to fill the air with their mesmeric trilling.

  One night Grandfather had taken him out looking for cicadas by torchlight. They walked into the local woods and at a certain point, Nozaki senior shone the torch around the trees and young Tetsuo had seen them. Swarms of them. Scores of white bodies with tiny red eyes. Around them, the ground was pocked with tiny circular holes that they had crawled out of.

  “They’re white until their skins harden and go dark,” Grandfather told him. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Seventeen years they live below ground, and then they all come up at once. How do they know when the time is right?”

  Now, because of his research, Tetsuo Nozaki knew about the biological clock. The internal clock that regulated the timing for sleep, in time with the planet’s circadian rhythm, and in humans it was located in the suprachiasmatic nucleus of the hypothalamus. A tiny structure, not much bigger than a pinhead.

  He shivered. A vision suddenly hit him; the idea of something lying beneath the earth for hundreds of years. Perhaps thousands of years. He saw the mountains in the distance splitting open when the time was right, and some vile, unimaginable shape oozing out, ready to crawl into the world’s nightmares.

  He buried his face in his hands. It was going to be a long, long night. He had to think about something else, try to keep himself awake.

  He must not fall asleep.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Return to Shingomura

  Weiss had always hated long car journeys, and this was one of the worst. On the road back to Shingomura, his gut churned with apprehension as he looked upon the familiar tree-fringed valley. Every detail of the landscape seemed to be imbued with menace; leaves drooped on the branches of the thin, sickly trees. The ramshackle metal huts and ripped plastic greenhouses looked like junk abandoned on a roadside. The mountains loomed up ahead of them, ghostly and forbidding.

  He closed his eyes and saw Eric again, on the Isola san Michel, how his body twisted and crumpled. How far have we gone, Adonai, and is it too late to turn back?

  “Weiss-sensei,” Namiko said, breaking into his thoughts. “I have to ask you, why is Marcus Jewell unable to translate the Achaz Codex?”

  “Oh, I would say it’s within his powers. But he’s more interested in destroying it.”

  “Through sterilization? The Kami will not allow that to happen again.”

  “But if the Lamed Vav can’t translate the Codex, how will Kageyama be able to? Are sleeping minds really that powerful?”

  Namiko frowned. “Is there any possible connection between dreams and the language of the Achaz Codex?”

  “Well…it was said that visions came to Fra Mauro in his dreams. Carl Jung was trying to evaluate universals in dreams, and he talked of archetype symbols, innate to the human mind. Piaget picked up on that, and postulated a theory of primitive symbolic thought.”

  “And that is what dreams are? A system of primitive symbolic thought?”

  Weiss shrugged. “That’s one way of putting it. The Ineffable Name is made up of two parts; Yod-Heh and Vav-Heh. Think of the Hebrew alphabet as a mnemonic. Those who know what the letters mean can comprehend them when heard and recall them when speaking. The unified Name represents times when the presence of God is revealed, and the divided Name represents times when that presence was hidden. That’s the problem with the language of the Book of the Veils, you see. So much is hidden.”

  Further up the road, a red and white plastic barrier partially blocked their path. Next to it was a sign written in kanji lettering, and a worker in grey overalls and yellow hard-hat, lounging with a cigarette.

  “What’s that up ahead?”

  “It says the road’s closed.”

  “What, even more construction?”

  As they slowed down and pulled up to the barrier, the worker jumped into life, throwing down his cigarette and waving a red plastic nightstick, signaling them to stop. They drew level and Namiko wound down her side window to speak in her politest Keigo Japanese, while the guard replied in rolling Tohoku dialect, punctuating his speech with frequent dips of his head. After a few moments, the guard bowed and started walking back to the barrier.

  “Yatta!” Namiko declared. “It worked. He let us go in.”

  “Well that was easier than I thought,” Weiss muttered.

  Namiko put the car back into gear and resumed driving up the hill. After moving the barrier aside, the guard stood to attention and gave them a deep bow from the waist as they passed him.

  “Much easier…”

  *

  David was trying to meditate and he wasn’t getting anywhere.

  He didn’t like sitting still at the best of times, but at least he wasn’t in the lotus position. The Professor had told him that sitting in a chair was quite acceptable. Anything that made him feel relaxed would do. As if I could relax, he thought, knowing there’s some kind of demon virus in my head.

  He rubbed his hands together, held them up in front of his face, palms a few inches apart. If what the Professor had said about auras was right, he should be able to see them by now. But he saw nothing; He’d had success before when he was under pressure, but it was so difficult…

  Wait. Something swam in the air between his hands, something like air solidifying–

  The phone rang.

  He breathed out with a loud hiss and swore. First rule of meditation, switch your phone off, he thought.

  He couldn’t catch the woman’s name, but he heard the part about Tsugaru Hospital University. “Mr. David Keall? I have a message concerning the meeting.”

  “Sorry, what meeting is this?”

  “The meeting between the subjects and the doctors to discuss the Kageyama Treatment. We apologize for the inconvenience, but would it be possible for you to come to a meeting this evening? All of the doctors and subjects have agreed to be present.”

  “This evening?” David looked at his watch. Five minutes past five o’clock. “What, you mean you want me to come now?”

  “That’s all right, we’re sending a bus for the subjects. Stay where you are and we’ll collect you.”

  She signed herself off with exquisitely polite Japanese. David sat looking at his cell phone in puzzlement.

  *

  Where the Shingomura hill flattened out into a plateau, the stone showed up ahead, shadowed by the canopy of leaves above it. Beside it the Torii and the hanging paper talismans were stark silhouettes.

  They parked the car at the small lay-by and got out. Weiss unfolded himself from the car, shooting pains going through his legs. They walked over to the stone. “It’s here,” Weiss beckoned. “Right here.”

  They both knelt before the boulder, as Weiss pointed out the weathered glyphs carved into the moss-covered stone. He began to take photos of the markings with Namiko’s digital camera.

  “What do you think of the earthquake damage?” she asked. “The cracks in the rock?”

  He stood up and sighed, taking off his Panama hat and fanning himself. “Looks bad. The integrity of the charm has been compromised, you see. To put the genie back in the bottle we would have to start ag
ain completely from scratch.”

  “Where’s the main pyramid?” Namiko asked.

  Weiss pointed up the road. “That way. There’s a path that leads up the mountain.”

  “And you haven’t been up there?”

  Weiss grimaced. “Do I look like a mountain goat?”

  “But it would be a good idea if someone had a look, don’t you think?”

  Weiss put his hands together and bowed as gracefully as he could. He remembered the Japanese phrase Namiko had taught him for this kind of situation. “Yorishiku onegai shimasu.”

  She laughed and nodded her head. “All right. I get it. I need fresh air and exercise, anyway.” She shuffled across the road, hitched up her dress and began to hike up the path. Soon she was hidden from sight by the bushes and foliage.

  *

  The bus arrived at five-thirty prompt and took David to a hospital busier than usual. The tenth floor was full. Not all the subjects were present – there was no way the meeting room was big enough to hold a hundred people – but David estimated there must have been over seventy.

  “David!” A familiar voice called from down the aisle, on the left. “David, we’re over here!”

  Saori, in her blue jeans and black top. Behind her, her parents, looking extremely bewildered. “David-sensei!” Mrs. Yoshida came over to him, smiling. “Such a surprise to see you here!”

  “Ah, yes,” David said, his mind racing. “There’s something I ought to tell you…”

  “Mrs. Yoshida? Oh, Mrs. Yoshida!”

  Another middle-aged lady came over to join them, bowing profusely as she spoke. “This is the first time we’ve met, isn’t it? My name is Suzuki. Allow me to offer my condolences for last year. Such a regrettable business, I do hope we can get things cleared up soon.”

  While her parents returned the greetings, Saori moved closer and whispered to David. “Don’t worry, I think it’ll all come out into the open now. By the looks of it, everyone’s angry.”

  “And scared. We might see the Lab closed down by the end of the day.” David glanced around the room. The mood was expectant, worried, but there was also the unmistakable undertone of fear. It had even affected Saori’s mother, he could tell. It was apparent in the rigidity of her back, in the way she was trying to organize everyone, in the discipline she was trying to maintain.

  “Do you see that man over there?” Saori pointed out a fairly tall, well-dressed Japanese man, his stiff hair cut in the latest fashion. “That’s Mr. Fujita, our new lawyer. And David – I’ve got bad news. About Mr. Ishida. He’s dead.”

  David stared back at her. “Oh my God, I only saw him the day before yesterday – what happened?”

  “He committed suicide,” Saori whispered.

  David couldn’t speak. His gaze slipped away from the girl, taking in the gossiping people filling the hall.

  “I think that’s why we’re all here,” Saori continued. “This will close down the lab for good.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” David took a deep breath, trying to comprehend the news.

  Saori looked around the room. “The nurses don’t look too pleased to see us, do they?” The receptionists were totally bewildered at the number of volunteers in the lobby, as if they hadn’t known about the meeting either.”

  “David. Miss Yoshida.”

  Tetsuo Nozaki appeared from the stairs, presumably from his little safe haven on the eleventh floor. He joined them and gave a courteous bow. “I think we are almost ready to begin.”

  “What about them?” asked Saori. “Are they something to do with the meeting, too?”

  “Oh, those are some of the assistants. I – wait a minute…” Nozaki broke off, looking confused.

  Standing over at the side of the room was a group of a dozen young men and women wearing white hospital smocks. On the other side of the room was a similar group. They had been coming up in the elevator ever since David had arrived, their numbers slowly growing.

  “What’s going on?” Saori asked.

  As David watched, the group of strangers all turned towards the middle of the room, in a single, unified movement. They began to take off their smocks. David goggled at what he saw. Black jackets covered in white kanji characters and Hinomaru flags. Combat fatigues tucked into boots.

  One of them stepped forward; a tall man with an aggressive, military style haircut and a thin mustache. “Attention, please everyone!”

  Behind him, the men and women drew what looked like swords from scabbards at their sides. Steel glinted in the artificial light. The tall man held up an object in front of his face; a handgun.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the man said. “This hospital is now under the protection of the Heralds of the Storm. Consider yourselves our guests.”

  *

  Weiss sat down gingerly on the rock wall and examined the digital camera. He shaded it with his hands, looking at the square patch of stone shown within. He turned it this way and that, making sure the glyphs were clearly visible.

  The sound of a car engine made him look up. A black minibus was approaching, ripples of leaf shadow sliding across its bodywork. It was the first time he’d seen traffic pass this way.

  As it approached, he noticed the white markings on the side, and he could tell whom it belonged to. Yes, yes, he thought. The road cordoned off. The construction worker who obligingly let them pass, making sure Namiko and he were the only two individuals up here.

  Before the minibus had rolled to a stop, Weiss was on his feet and jogging at a steady pace into the trees. Bracken pulled at his trouser legs, brambles loomed before him. Behind him he heard their shouts and commands in coarse Japanese.

  He stopped, a flimsy wall of green between him and the road. Too much running would leave him short of breath, and breath was what he needed. They were out of the vehicle and were drawing swords, advancing slowly, calling to him in guttural Japanese. Some held hammers and knives and bike chains in their hands.

  This time they were prepared.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Siege

  The reception lobby erupted as everyone started shouting at once. At the back, someone screamed, and the nurses frantically ran to the people in wheel chairs, putting themselves behind the handles.

  The leader raised his gun and fired a single shot into the ceiling. The noise of the report echoed around the room and a chunk of plaster fell to the floor, shattering on the tiles.

  Silence once more.

  “My name is Matsuoka,” the leader announced in well-practiced, military tones, “and I am here for the subjects of the Sleep Modulator project. We will permit nurses, doctors and other patients to leave now. The volunteers will come with me.” He produced a printout from his inside jacket pocket, and began reading out a list of surnames.

  David looked on in disbelief. “Where did they get that from?”

  “I didn’t know about this,” Nozaki was babbling. “I swear, I have no–”

  The newcomers herded some of the subjects toward the elevator. There was a great deal of jabbing and pushing, and someone in the crowd began to sob hysterically.

  Matsuoka’s gaze settled on Nozaki, David, and Saori. He seemed to recognize them, and moved forward, his pistol raised threateningly.

  “That’s enough!”

  It happened so fast David could barely follow it. An arm lashed out from the crowd and gripped Matsuoka’s arm, twisted it, making him yell in pain. The gun fell from his fingers.

  It was Fujita. The well-dressed man grabbed Matsuoka in a chokehold, both of their faces red with fury.

  David grabbed Saori and turned her towards one of the exits. “Run!” he ordered.

  “No! No! Mom and Dad!” she cried.

  “You can’t help your parents if you’re a hostage as well. Move!”

  With Nozaki following them, they bolted for the entrance to the stairwell, but a piercing scream made them turn back. Matsuoka had pushed back against Fujita, twisting him around. One of the intrude
rs stepped up and made a quick stabbing thrust with his sword. The lawyer howled in pain.

  Blood spattered onto the hospital floor.

  *

  Professor Weiss reached into his jacket breast pocket, gently removing the black silk pouch he’d put there. Opening it, he slid the stiff paper out into the sunlight, Hebrew letters bordered by intricately drawn circles, stars and triangles.

  The sigil of Orobas.

  Earth would activate it. As he heard the shouts of his pursuers approaching, he knelt down and pressed the sigil to the leaf and soil of the forest floor. With the fingers of his right hand, he carved out a shape in the soil; the two brief stokes and the curving shield of Peh. The mouth. The second component of the name of the Book of the Veils. He pronounced the letter, then the name of Orobas, and then the syllables of the Ineffable Name, his voice hoarse but clear.

  Instantly, the paper grew warmer in his hands, and the voice of Orobas rang in his head to respond to the summons.

  The acolytes were closer now. They trod slowly, confidently, their boots crunching on the leaf mold beneath.

  Weiss had no sense of his own body. He seemed to be watching himself from the outside as the acolytes approached, and then stopped a few meters away. The man in front held up his sword and laughed.

  It happened at the back of the crowd first. One of the acolytes shook his head violently and stumbled forward. The others around him stared as he shook his head, the tremor continuing to his arms, his hands. The acolyte dropped his sword and fell to his knees; he put up his arms, and flopped forwards into the bed of ferns.

  The woman standing near him was next. Her head snapped back, followed by the rest of her body as she was lifted off her feet by an invisible force, and thrown bodily against the trunk of a tree.