by Zoe Drake
To protect her, what am I prepared to offer?
“Saori,” he whispered, his throat dry.
A loud commotion from down the corridor brought them both scrambling to their feet. They separated from each other, and David swung round, ready to lash out with his fists.
The shadows near the window parted and Weiss and Namiko stepped into the corridor.
“Sorry we took our time but better late than never,” the Professor said. “Now let’s start joining the dots.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
The Moon Occults the Sun
“Well now,” the Professor announced after David had finished his story. “We haven’t got much time.”
“Why are the Heralds here?” Saori asked. “What do you think they’re doing?”
“I suppose Kageyama couldn’t keep the project going any longer. He knew the authorities wouldn’t accept so many anomalous events happening, so many unaccountable deaths. So the only option left was to take over the hospital by force. He planned for this, and that’s what he was training the Heralds of the Storm for.”
“But they won’t be able to hold out here for long,” David said. “Eventually the police will find a way in, and they’ll break the siege.”
“They only have to stay here long enough to spread the contagion. The King of the Veils can infect minds, like the students in David’s school. We know it has the power to affect information in the form of computer data and TV signals. Very soon, if not already, this building will be on TV screens all over the country.”
Saori and David looked at each other. “The camera crews outside.”
Weiss sighed. “It will spread across the land like a virus, multiplying in a culture of wireless transmissions and social media. Those who see it will find themselves in a waking nightmare. Soon, it will be impossible for anyone to distinguish between sleep and waking, reality and fantasy.”
It was too much. With a sudden rush of embarrassment, David felt the urge to start crying, and he looked down at the floor, his throat burning. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not in front of…
“Saori,” the Professor said. “We need to talk to you.”
She stared at David, then at the Professor.
“We need you to tell us about your sister,” Namiko added.
David saw the young girl’s body stiffen with surprise as Namiko extended her arm and hand toward her. A candle flame danced from the end of her index finger. From the finger itself.
“Look into the flame,” Namiko said in Japanese. “Look into the flame. Relax. Feel the light of the flame filling you, Saori. Spreading out through your body.”
David stared at what was happening. Why should he be surprised, he told himself? This whole thing was one shock after another. He’d been pushed around by someone or other ever since the day he’d first walked into this hospital.
But Saori did visibly relax, her shoulders loosening as she sat against the wall’s dusty plaster…
“Saori,” Namiko said in a low, calm voice, “we need to know about Ayano. What was special about her.”
Saori’s head rolled, her eyes losing focus. “Reibai,” she said finally.
David had heard the word in Osorezan. It meant a kind of psychic medium. A clairvoyant. He listened to Saori’s soft monotone voice as she spoke, translating the words in his head. When she was twelve, Ayano had suddenly become dangerously ill. It started with a headache, and within a few hours she couldn’t stand up, and then she became blind. She was in a fever, talking in a language that wasn’t Japanese, a language that none of her family understood.
“We took her to a hospital, but the doctors were useless. The next day, she was better, she could recognize her family, and after two days, she was back to normal. She never spoke of it again, so I didn’t remind her. But…”
“But?” prompted Namiko.
“But after that mother treated her as if she were someone special.”
“Someone gifted,” said Namiko.
She translated for the Professor who sat on the floor, rubbing his chin. “Of course,” he said. “A psychic, and a powerful one at that. With training, she would have been excellent material.”
“So is that why she died?” David asked impatiently.
“She died for the same reason my colleague Eric died. She was a potential threat. The King of the Veils sensed her abilities, and removed the threat. It was instinct.”
“Instinct,” David echoed, and then was stopped from talking by Saori reaching over and clutching him, burying her face in his sweater.
“She’s all right now,” Namiko whispered. “She’s confused, but she will recover.”
“Yeah, unless we’re all killed,” David muttered.
“Now listen, young man, none of that,” Weiss snapped. “I need you to do something.”
“What is it?”
“What we talked about. One on the outside, one on the inside.”
“Yeah, well we’re both inside now, aren’t we?”
“No. I mean on the inside.”
David stared back at him, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh. I…see.”
“I had a feeling it would come to this, David. I’ve been trying to tell you how desperate and fragile things really are.” Weiss paused, and put out a hand to grip David’s shoulder. “If there were any other way, I’d take it. But this is how it will have to be, and I have confidence in you, David.”
Saori lifted her head up, her eyes damp, sniffing back tears. “What’s he talking about?”
David stared back at the Professor. “He means I’m going to sleep. I’m going into the dream world, the one that the Kageyama Treatment created.”
Saori looked back at him, stunned. “But how can you?” Nozaki asked. “We’ve got no anesthetic, we can’t put you to sleep.”
“The Professor can. Like Namiko hypnotized you. Right, Professor?”
Weiss nodded. “I know ‘try to relax’ is not what you want to hear at the moment, but I should be able to put you under.”
David looked at Saori, then back at Weiss. “So what do I do when I get into the dream world?”
“You perform the rite of exorcism, the same one that you did at the school.”
It was starting to hit him now. The panic. He felt the eyes of everyone in the room on him and all of a sudden he couldn’t breath. “Listen, I’m not sure I can do it…on my own. I want to, but…”
“David. David. You’re not on your own.” The Professor’s hands were around his, their skin callused and warm. “The entire resources of the Thirty-Six are behind you, I promise. There’s something you need to know.”
Weiss looked deep into David’s face, his voice low but compelling. “I’ve been thinking, David. On the way here. About the Chinese Room experiment.”
“Chinese Room,” David repeated. “We’re in Japan, Professor…”
“Just listen. A few years ago, there was a thought experiment about artificial intelligence. Suppose there were a computer program that took Chinese characters as input and correlated with other Chinese characters as output. Suppose it could do this so well that it could communicate with a native Chinese speaker and convince them it’s a human being.”
“But the program doesn’t really understand Chinese,” David said in irritation. “It’s just manipulating symbols, it hasn’t got a mind.”
“Yes. Now think of the King of the Veils in that way. It’s not conscious in the way we are, it’s more like a creature following instinct. And there is a language which is more powerful than the sigils from the Book of the Veils.”
Weiss paused for breath. “Dreams. Think of dreams as a hieroglyphic language that combine many images or concepts into one picture.”
“Like kanji characters?”
“Yes! That’s it, only dreams are a universal language of symbols. It’s a hyperglyph, David. Dreams can build reality just like language can, they are metaphors that can become themselves in dimensions we are able to build specific
ally for that purpose.”
“Kobo Daishi,” David muttered.
“Who?”
“Nothing. I understand what you’re saying, Professor. What about the Heralds?”
Weiss smiled a grim smile. “Namiko will take care of them.”
Despite the panic, David almost laughed at the surprised expression on Saori’s face.
“Yeah, okay.” He took a deep breath, dropped the smile. “Well, we’d better get on with it then.”
Saori gripped his arm tighter. “I’ll stay here, David. I’ll be at your side.”
“Thanks.” He couldn’t help pulling her into his arms and hugging her. She pressed her fists into his back, her eyes tightly closed.
“I’ll see you when I wake up,” he said.
*
They had finally stopped asking him questions.
Nozaki sat on a stretcher in the ambulance, refusing the constant requests to lie down. A blanket was draped around his shoulders and a Styrofoam cup filled with mineral water had been placed in his hand.
So many questions. Questions about the hospital. The police officers had been kind, not accusing him of anything outright, but he had been glad when they had finally left. Now there was only the nurse, busy with some equipment on the other side of the ambulance, and the silent presence of the driver.
He closed his eyes, and then opened them again in alarm. He couldn’t go to sleep. He mustn’t.
He looked around. All of the ambulance’s cramped interior space was filled with medical equipment and supplies; cardiac monitors, defibrillators, portable ventilators, blood pressure cuffs, and a tall, tight stack of blankets, towels and pillows. He blinked. Drugs. Medicine. Had they given him a sedative? He couldn’t remember. He had been so shocked and relieved to be out of the hospital alive.
And the boy and the girl were still in there…
He pulled the smartphone from his pocket. Just as he thought, it was now a useless lump of metal. Standing next to the MRI machine had wiped it clean. At least he had sent a message to Aiko before that happened. At least he had told her not to worry about him…
The nurse turned around in time to catch the cup of water as Nozaki gently slumped back onto the stretcher, his eyes closed.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Dreamscape
David was in a cave. A large, rocky hollow, illuminated by a light source he couldn’t make out. A group of figures stood before him, in the center of the cave. Young men and women, and several tall bulky humanoid shapes cast in metal. Robots, he thought. No, Mecha. How did he know that word?
The scene had a vivid, shimmering intensity about it. With a feeling like vertigo, he came to his senses, realizing where he was and what he was doing, and at the same time recognized another subject from the Kageyama Treatment. A schoolboy. What was his name? Tsuyoshi?
Inside the circle was a patch of soft, muddy ground ripped and churned into ripples and ruts. The people wore big, chunky jewelry on their necks, fingers and ears, and their hands made slow, balletic gestures in the air.
David walked over to the boy. “Hello? Tsuyoshi? Do you recognize me?”
The boy turned. His left eye was covered by some kind of silver half-mask. Tsuyoshi’s other eye blinked at David warily before he replied. “Sure I do.”
“Well, who am I?”
Another blink – the only show of emotion in the boy’s face. “You’re the foreigner.”
“What are you doing?”
“We’re guiding time and space ships through this portal,” the boy replied slowly. He gestured at the ring of soft mud in front of them with a chunky silver fingernail. “This is a gateway that’s been opened up by ancient Tibetan technology, under the control of our master, the White Lama.”
A peculiar, electrical feeling crept over David, as he stared at the figment of another person’s imagination, realizing with awe that he was looking inside someone else’s head. The feeling was compounded by the thought that he didn’t actually have a body to accommodate the goose-bumps he could feel; as his intangible head began to spin, he tried to concentrate on the boy, tried to keep himself focused.
“Tsuyoshi, I think you’d better come with me.”
“Not sure if I can.” The boy frowned, making another vogueing pass at the muddy ring.
“Did someone select you for this post?” David probed. “Because you’ve got special powers or something?”
“No.” Tsuyoshi’s frown deepened. “They said anyone would do.”
As if his own words had unintentionally taken the wind out of his sails, the boy’s hands stopped their pantomime, dropping woodenly to his sides. After a long moment of watching, David reached out and touched the boy’s arm.
“Come on,” he said, “We’ve got other work to do.”
Out of the cave into the withering sunlight, they found themselves in Osorezan, as David had expected. A hot wind blew into their faces, bringing the overpowering smells of sulfur and incense. The bare and menacing gulch was lined by black, eroded sculptures that stared down at them from above, wreathed in the mists issuing from cracks in the stony earth.
“Hello there!” called a voice. “You two! Over here!”
Another subject was approaching them: a middle-aged Japanese woman in kimono, who seemed to be oblivious to the heat. She had something hanging from a chain around her neck, and as she came closer, David saw with fascination that it was a small, living animal, clinging to the front of her kimono with its paws.
“Hello there. My name is Etsuko Suzuki. Well, this is very curious, isn’t it, that we should all meet up? Is it because – because –” She stopped, her face clouding. David suddenly realized that she might not be lucid, and if she remembered fully what had happened at the hospital, she might go into shock.
“Mrs. Suzuki, did you know that you’re carrying a…”
“What, dear? What are you looking at? This is Shiro, my Chihuahua. We’ll be all right as long as we’re together, won’t we, little Shiro? There’s a good boy.”
“Yeah, sure,” David replied with a smile he hoped looked sincere.
“Which way should we go?” Tsuyoshi asked.
“That way,” Mrs. Suzuki said without hesitation, turning and pointing. “Past the tower and down to the lake.”
“The tower?” The boy stared into the distance, screwing up his eyes against the sun, staring at the landmark she pointed at. “Hey, it’s on fire!”
“Oh no, dear, don’t be silly,” Mrs. Suzuki chided. “It’s not burning, it’s glowing with light. The Kamisama are looking out of it, and showing the way. The light points to the lake.”
David shrugged. “Sounds like a plan. That way, everyone.”
As they hiked along the path, David heard a curious jumble of sounds around him. Distant whispering voices, the harsh cawing of the crows, and the faint rattle of plastic windmills spun by invisible fingers. The odors of sulfur and incense were overpowering.
Before long, the travelers had entered a section paved with flat stones coated with thick yellow dust. The script from the Book of the Veils was everywhere, familiar but unreadable hieroglyphics carved in white upon each flagstone.
“Hey look,” shouted Tsuyoshi. “We’re a long way up!”
David turned. Part of the gulch wall had fallen away, and they were looking out across the lunar landscape of Osorezan as if from the side of a mountain. “Don’t go too close to the edge,” he warned Tsuyoshi, and shuffled forward slowly, craning his neck to see as much as he could. The paving slabs seemed to be built upon pillars – rough, rocky pillars that reminded him of…
“It’s the Shio no Kawa,” David said.
“Ah, yes,” Mrs. Suzuki announced from behind. “You are very well-informed.”
“These pillars are built from stones that the spirits of children have piled up,” recalled David. “They’re trying to reach heaven, you see, but a horrible ogress sends along demons to torment the children and knock over…”
A movemen
t at his right caught his eye. One of the paving stones was tipping over. Part of it sank, revealing a line of darkness, and then completely slipped out of view.
Beneath their feet came a tremor like an earthquake.
“To knock over the…oh, shit.”
*
“Sir? Sir, I think we’ve got something.”
Kohama slammed down the telephone and turned to Shibasaki. “What?”
“Our cameras on the other side of the hospital. The TV crews have probably got it, as well. It’s either one of the terrorists checking us out or…another escaped hostage.”
Kohama sat himself down at the computer and tilted the display toward him. The screen showed a low-resolution image of the hospital wall, perhaps the eleventh floor; the blinds of one of the windows had been raised, and an elderly woman stared out into the night, her face pale and blank, seemingly untroubled by the crisis inside the hospital.
Kohama heard Shibasaki give a sharp intake of breath behind him. “Well?” the senior officer asked. “Do you think she’s trying to signal for help?”
“I think…I think…”
“What? Come on, we haven’t got all night?”
“I think…that looks like my mother, sir.”
Kohama stiffened in his chair. He turned around to look directly at his junior. “Shibasaki, your mother died last year. We all know that.”
“Yes, but I think…that’s her.”
Both officers swung round as a scream and a loud crash echoed from inside the cabin. Fukuda, who had been using the laptop, had jumped to her feet so sharply that her chair toppled over. She stood, staring at the computer, her face white with shock.
“What?” snapped Kohama. “What did you see?”
Fukuda looked back at her superiors, her mouth opening and closing, unable to answer.