Vol 3 Chapter 2.1 (2/2)

The hasty scribble of just a few words had become a streak of light that tore through the darkness, and became the voice that whispered life into her ear.

Karan opened her store, and continued to bake bread. Until s.h.i.+on came home, she would grit her teeth and wait. She would keep waiting. Nezumi had brought her the strength to do it. At times, she was still overwhelmed with anxiety and the urge to scream, but Karan's daily life was gradually regaining its stability. It was around this time that Safu had appeared at her door.

Safu, like s.h.i.+on, had also been acknowledged as highest-ranking in intelligence. She was a girl whose large, black eyes stood out defined on her face; and she had an honest gaze. Safu, with few words but a strong will, had spoke of her love for s.h.i.+on, and had proclaimed that she was going to the West Block to see him.

”It doesn't matter to me. Even if I could never come back here again, I wouldn't regret it. If s.h.i.+on is in the West Block, that's where I'm going.”

”I want to see him. I want to see s.h.i.+on.”

”I... I love him. From the bottom of my heart, I've always, always, loved only him.”

The sixteen-year-old girl had formed these words, fighting back her tears; and for their simplicity and awkwardness, they had touched Karan's heart all the more. But moved as though she was, she could not let Safu go to the West Block. As s.h.i.+on's mother, and as grown adult, she had to stop her.

Safu left her store, and Karan had followed shortly afterwards. What she witnessed was the kidnapping of Safu by Security Bureau officials.

It had already been three days since then.

”Safu...” At her wit's end, Karan let another sigh escape her lips. She had not the faintest idea what she was to do next. She had pa.s.sed a memo to the small messenger mouse. That was all she had done.

Would Nezumi save the girl as he did with s.h.i.+on? If she was already imprisoned in the Correctional Facility, it seemed almost impossible to save her. If s.h.i.+on found out, and set out to the Correctional Facility to save Safu, perhaps this time he would really be killed. Maybe I've done something rash― There was no way Nezumi would take such a risk to save a complete stranger. Her feelings shredded into little ribbons, and made her fingers tremble.

Karan had spent these past three days hardly sleeping or eating. She was physically and mentally exhausted, and yet was unable to stay still, and had come all the way here, close to where Safu used to live.

The luxury neighbourhood of Chronos.

Abundant greenery, and a tranquil environment. A fully-functioning security system. Various facilities, for medical care, entertainment, and shopping were provided in full, and residents could use them freely with only their ID card. Even within the Holy City of No. 6, Chronos was of a different cla.s.s still, a residence beyond anyone's wildest dreams.

Although Karan had been a resident here only a few years ago, this time she was prevented from even entering the streets. As soon as she had stepped onto the cobblestone path that led into Chronos, the gates had closed.

We are very sorry. Due to concerns for safety, the area past this point is accessible to Chronos residents only. Thank you for your understanding. Further, anyone who pa.s.ses the gates without a Entrance Permit for Special Residential Districts issued by the authorities is subject to removal from the premises and punishable by munic.i.p.al law Article 203 Clause 42. I repeat ― Due to concerns for safety...

A gentle female voice flowed forth. The surveillance camera attached to the chalk-white gates silently captured Karan as she stood with her feet rooted to the ground. If she remained unmoving here, the soft voice would turn into a shrill alarm, and Security Bureau officials would burst onto the scene. Karan had no choice but to turn her back on the gate, bite her lip, and go back the way she had come.

And now, in a corner of the Forest Park, she was sitting on a bench under a large tree that had lost all of its leaves. She sat, staring absently down at her hands.

”s.h.i.+on... Safu...”

Why am I so powerless? I've been living for decades, I'm a parent, I'm an adult, and I can't even help two young people who are in the middle of a crisis. I've been alive for so long, and yet―

Karan lifted her face. An emotion quite different from dread or anxiety flitted across a corner of her heart. In the years that No. 6 shaped itself and began maturing as an independent city, Karan lived in its interior as a resident.

Six cities were founded in this world, building upon the numerous blunders that humankind had caused. It was a place free of war or hunger, and people could live here in peace and freedom. Here, the people could live from birth to death in safety, bliss, and tranquility. That was how it was supposed to be. She had never thought deeply about it. Everyone thought that as long as they stayed in No. 6, they would be promised a fulfilling life.

They thought ― they had thought ― they had been taught into thinking.

She clenched her fingers, and bit her lip harder.

This is all a lie. Everything― it's all just an appearance.

She whispered without putting it into words. Though it was on the verge of winter, she was starting to perspire.

They were divided into countless cla.s.ses by their ID chips so that they weren't even free to travel inside the city. Her son had been taken forcibly into custody, and she was not permitted even to make a formal objection. She couldn't even confirm the safety of another resident who had been seized by the authorities. Where was freedom? Where was peace, safety, and a life of fulfilment? It was nowhere.

If that's true, then what have we been doing all this time? Why have we created a city like this? What have we done ― where have we gone wrong?

”Excuse me―”

Karan was jolted abruptly back to reality by a voice.

”I'm sorry. Did I surprise you?” An elderly lady wearing a small, light-blue hat was smiling at her. It was a face she didn't know.

”Ah―oh no, it's nothing,” Karan said hurriedly. ”I'm sorry, I was just lost a little in thought... is there something―?”

”Would you mind if I sat down beside you?”

”Not at all― please.”

The woman, still smiling, lowered herself into her seat beside Karan.

”What splendid weather it is, don't you think? So nice.”

”Yes, it is.” The weather was the last thing on her mind. For the past few days, she had felt nothing in the colour of the sky, the sound of the wind, or the sight of the trees.

”You must have thought me a rather rude old crone for suddenly speaking to you like that, I suppose?” the woman said mildly.

”No no, of course not. I was just a little surprised. I was thinking about something, and I hadn't noticed that you were standing there.”

The madam pushed her round spectacles up her nose, and her face turned serious.

”You see, that's exactly why I decided to speak to you.”

”I'm sorry?”

The woman was wearing a silver ring. Her fingers extended to clasp around Karan's hand.

”Please, I don't want you to be offended. I know very well that I'm being meddlesome.” She hesitated. ”But you had such a forlorn look on your face, I just couldn't go without doing something.”

Oh, Karan said softly, her hands still clasped in the woman's.

”And that was why you took the time to speak to me?”

”Oh yes. There you were, on such a fine day, on such a splendid afternoon, looking as troubled as ever. You were sitting alone, limp on the bench, with your head bowed. There was no way I couldn't go without saying something.”

The elderly woman tightened her fingers around Karan's hands, and wrapped them tenderly in her own hands.

”Why is a lady so young and beautiful as you, sitting with such a face? Has something happened?”

The pair of eyes behind the spectacles were soothing and gentle. Above their heads, the branches of a beech tree were swaying.

”Thank you for your concern. I've just been going through a bit of trouble...”

”Yes, I understand,” the woman said sympathetically. ”There was a time in my life, too, when I was burdened terribly with troubles.” Her aged but dignified countenance clouded slightly. Karan's heart leapt for an instant.

Were there other people brooding like her? Were other people suffering like her? Had other people realized the city's contradictions as well?

”It was devastating, even though it happened decades ago. ―I lost my son to an illness.”

”My, an illness,” murmured Karan.

”Yes, and he was only three. When he died, I still remember crying uncontrollably when I saw how small his coffin was. You would understand, wouldn't you, the feelings of a mother who's lost her son?”

Karan tried to nod, and drew her chin back just in time. s.h.i.+on was still alive.I haven't lost my son yet.

”I can't quite say that I do understand―” she said slowly, ”but you must have suffered so.”

”Indeed, I did. Words couldn't describe what I went through. Many times, I thought how much better it would be if I were dead. But now, I'm glad I'm alive. I couldn't be happier, living in such a brilliant city, surrounded by my children and grandchildren.”

The woman smiled, and cast her gaze around her.

”I would've wanted my son to experience growing up here. No― if medical care at No. 6 had been what it is now, I'm sure he wouldn't have had to die.”

Karan softly drew her hand back. The elderly madam's gaze wandered into the sky as she continued talking. Her lips were still turned up in a vague smile.

”I really do think this place is a utopia. You know, I say this to my grandchildren very often. I say, you must be grateful for being born here. They just look puzzled, of course ― but that's when I tell them about the West Block.”

”The West Block?” Karan's heart quickened again, for an entirely different reason this time.

”Yes, the West Block. Do you know what sort of place it is?”

Karan leaned forward. She wanted to know. The West Block was where s.h.i.+on was, and she wanted to know the details, what sort of place it was.

”I haven't the faintest idea. Please tell me.”

The lady furrowed her brow, and shook her head.

”I don't know much about it, myself. But my nephew works at the Access Control Office, and I hear stories from him sometimes. It's a horrible place, I hear.”

Karan restrained her impatient heart, and murmured in a.s.sent. She wanted to encourage the madam to continue her story.

”The hygiene there is absolutely atrocious, and I hear the children have to drink contaminated water.”

”Contaminated...”

”Yes, isn't it just horrid? I feel such pity for them, my heart aches. Compared to that, the children in this city couldn't be happier. Wouldn't you agree?”

”What? I mean― yes, but...”

”That's why over there, they're plagued with contagious diseases all the time, ones we could never imagine within No. 6. Crime is a daily occurrence, and safety is almost nonexistent. The residents of that Block are all uneducated, savage, and most will even kill a man without batting an eye if it means money for them. Just recently, I heard a group of violent men tried to force their way into the Control Office. Of course, since their security system was perfect, they were arrested before they even set foot inside. It's frightening, really.”

The lady wrapped her arms around herself and s.h.i.+vered.

”My nephew told me the place is like a h.e.l.l, the basest, worst possible environment. It must be ever so different from here. We must rejoice too, that we're residents of No. 6 ― not just our children. As for myself, I'm not afraid to tell my grandchildren how fortunate they are as No. 6 residents, compared to the West Block.”

The West Block. The basest, worst possible environment.

Karan closed her eyes. s.h.i.+on's handwriting floated up in her mind. It was a mere scribble, and only one line long. It was a slightly slanted, distinctive hand.

The letters were br.i.m.m.i.n.g with energy. It was writing that radiated youthful vigour for life. He was alive in the West Block. Ever so strongly, even now, he was continuing to live on.

”Is something the matter?”

She opened her eyes at the elderly lady's words.

”Are you feeling ill? Shall I contact the Health and Hygiene Bureau?”

Karan slowly shook her head.

”I don't think so.”

”Pardon me?”

”I don't think the West Block is the basest, nor the worst.”

”Why, what―”

”And I don't think―”

I don't think this city is a utopia, either.

Just as she was about to say those words, there was a sound, a flurry of beating wings, and a black object came flying at her from above.

Notes

Neruda, Pablo. ”VIII: White Bee.” Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair. Trans. William S. Merwin. New York: Penguin Books, 2004. (back)

Font credit to Ingo Zimmermann for Biro Script (s.h.i.+on).

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