Vol 1 Chapter 1.3 (1/2)
[Novel] NO. 6 - Vol 1 Ch 1 (c)
This is a continuation of PART B.
Mother was sitting on the couch in the living room, engrossed in the flat-screen television mounted on the wall. She noticed me coming in, and pointed at the screen. A female newscaster with long, straight hair was broadcasting a warning to all residents of Chronos.
A convict had escaped from the Correctional Facility in the West Block, and was last seen fleeing into the Chronos area. With regards to the hurricane as well, the area was to be put in a lockdown that night. Everyone in the area, excluding special cases, was forbidden to go outside of their homes.
Nezumi's face appeared on the screen. Underneath, the words ”VC103221” floated up in red letters.
”VC...”
I lifted a spoonful of cherry cake into my mouth. Every year without fail, Mother baked a cherry cake for my birthday. It was because Father had brought home a cherry cake on the day I was born.
From what Mother said, my father was a hopeless case who indulged lavishly in money-spending and women, but above all, the bottle ― he was just a step away from being an alcoholic. He had come home one day, in his drunkenness having bought cherry cakes ― three of them ― that were so good she couldn't help but remember their taste every time September 7th rolled around. My parents divorced two months after the cherry cake. So unfortunately, I have no memory of my hopeless case of a father who was one step away from an alcoholic. But it was no inconvenience. After being snagged as a top ranker, Mother and I received the right to live in Chronos, along with complete insurance of our living conditions, including this modest but well-outfitted house. There was no inconvenience at all.
”I just remembered, the yard's security system is still turned off. No harm in leaving it off, right?”
Mother raised herself slowly. She had gained a lot of weight recently, and it seemed like an effort for her to move.
”It's such a pain in the neck, that thing. Even a cat jumping over the fence sets the alarm off, and people from the Security Bureau come every single time to check. What a ha.s.sle.”
Almost as if in correlation with her gaining weight, she had started to call things ”a pain in the neck” more and more often.
”But look at him, he's still so young. A VC... I wonder what he's done.”
VC. The V Chip. It was short for Violence-Chip, and was originally a term used in America for a semiconductor that was used to censor television content. With this chip, you could set the television not to display violent or disturbing scenes. If I remembered correctly, this term was first used in the 1996 revision of the Telecommunications Act.
But in No. 6, the term VC carried a heavier meaning. Perpetrators of murder, attempted murder, robbery, a.s.sault and other violent crime were subject to having this chip planted inside their body. This enabled computers to track every location, condition and even emotional fluctuations of the convict. VC was a term we used for violent criminals.
――But how did he take the chip out?
If the VC was still inside his body, his location could be instantly pinpointed with the city's tracking system. It should have been easily possible to arrest him without any citizens noticing. To make news of his escape public, and to enforce a lock-down would only mean that they hadn't been able to find his location.
――Could that bullet wound have...? No, that can't be.
I'd never seen a bullet wound on a human before, but I could tell it definitely came from being shot at a distance. If he had blown the chip off himself along with the flesh of his shoulder, he would have had a more serious wound, with burns and all. Much more serious.
”Rather dull, isn't it? A shame, since it's your special day.”
Mother sighed as she sprinkled parsley flakes into the pot of stew sitting on the table. ”Dull” was another word Mother used more often these days.
Mother and I were very similar. We were both a little over-sensitive, and didn't like to socialize much. The people around us were nice, so nice there was nothing bad to say about them. My cla.s.smates, the citizens around us, were genial, intelligent, and minded their manners. No one raised their voice to insult anyone, or treated people with hostility. There were no strange or devious people. Everyone kept up such meticulously healthy lifestyles that even slightly plump figures like my mother's were rare. In this peaceful, stable and uniform world where everyone looked the same, my mother grew fatter, every other word ”a pain in the neck” or ”dull”; and I began to find the presence of other people oppressing.
Break it.
Destroy it.
Destroy what?
Everything.
Everything?
The spoon slid out of my hand and clattered to the floor.
”What's wrong? You were miles away.”
Mother peered inquisitively at me. Her round face broke into a smile.
”That's rare of you, s.h.i.+on, s.p.a.cing out like that. Want me to disinfect that spoon?”
”Oh, no. It's no big deal,” I smiled back at her. My heart was racing so fast it was hard to breathe. I gulped down the mineral water in one go. Bullet wounds, blood, VC, grey eyes. What were all these things? They had never existed in my world until now. What business did they have, so suddenly intruding into my life?
I had a fleeting premonition. A feeling that a great change was coming. Just like a virus that enters a cell and mutates it or destroys it altogether, I had a feeling that this impostor would upset the world I lived in, and destroy it entirely.
”s.h.i.+on? Really, what's gotten into you?”
Mother peered into my face again, her expression concerned.
”Sorry, mom. That report is bothering me. I'm gonna eat in my room,” I lied, and stood up.
”Don't turn on the light.”
A low voice commanded me, as soon as I entered the room. I didn't like the dark, so I usually left the lights on. But now it was pitch-black.
”I can't see anything.”
”You don't need to.”
But if I couldn't see, I couldn't move. I stood helplessly, with the stew and cherry cake in my hands.
”Something smells good.”
”I brought stew and cherry cake.”
I heard a whistle of appreciation in the dark.
”Want some?”
”Of course.”
”You're gonna eat it in the dark?”
”Of course.”
I carefully inched my foot forward. I could hear a quiet snicker.
”Can't even find your way in your own room?”
”I don't happen to be nocturnal, thanks. Can you see in the dark?”
”I'm a rat. Of course I can.”
”VC 103221.”
In the darkness, I could sense Nezumi freeze.
”You were all over the news. Famous.”
”Hah. Don't I look so much better in real life? Hey, this cake is good.”
My eyes were getting used to the darkness. I sat on the bed, and squinted at Nezumi.
”Can you get away alright?”
”Of course.”
”What did you do with the chip?”
”It's still inside me.”
”Want me to take it out?”
”Surgery again? No thanks.”
”But...”
”It doesn't matter. That thing is useless now anyway.”
”What do you mean?”
”The VC is just a toy. Disabling it is like a piece of cake.”
”A toy, huh.”
”Yup, a toy. And let me tell you something, this city itself is like a toy, too. A cheap toy that's pretty only on the outside.”
Nezumi had polished off the stew and cake. He gave a sigh of content.
”So you're confident that you're going to escape when the city's on high-alert?”
”Of course.”