Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The men arrived, wearing suits and neckties and carrying attaché cases (ironically dubbed the “Three Sacred Treasures” of Japan’s professional class), at Mayor Kajiwara’s office the morning after the fall of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Complex, precisely at nine o’clock.

When his new secretary told him their names and portfolios, Kajiwara had to smile. At times like this, quieting troubled waters was the most indispensable of his job qualifications. Considering the stormy seas that assaulted him on a daily basis, the sense of disquiet he felt at this particular moment was apart from the norm.

Vice-Minister of Defense Yoshiaki Sawashima

Cabinet Secretary Daizaburo Gengi

Welfare Minister Tsutomu Enkaida

Along with three bodyguards. Sitting in front of the row of politicos, Kajiwara made sure they saw the surprise in his eyes. He said, a slight tremor in his voice, “I must wonder what in the world has brought you gentlemen to our turbulent burg?”

“Let me get right to the point,” said Vice-Minister Yoshiaki Sawashima. He had a frame that imparted the impression of a drawn saber. “This city is steeped in vampires. We have come to impose martial law.”

“You must be joking!” Kajiwara said.

Cabinet Secretary Daizaburo Gengi said, “You are the man in charge of Demon City. Let’s lay all our cards on the table and speak candidly. Otherwise, there’s no need for us to be here.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Last night, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Complex was engulfed in flames and collapsed. There’s no way we can stay out of this. In short, during the course of this latest vampire incident, we fortified the facilities in order to seize the woman at the heart of the problem, the leader of the vampires. We failed to achieve our goal. In the process, Abe of the Joint Staff Council and Director Otaguro of the National Institutes of Science and Technology ended up buried beneath the rubble. Prime Minister Kongodai alone was saved and is currently being treated for shock.”

Kajiwara quietly took in the Cabinet Secretary’s melancholic words. The tone of his voice obviated the need to ferret out the purpose of the visit. The man was all but admitting that the upper echelons of the Japanese government were involved in the previous night’s conflagration up to their necks. And this was just the beginning.

“I don’t know what to say at a time like this,” the mayor said in a gravelly voice. His audience all nodded. “But allow me one objection.”

“What is that?”

“When our fire department was dispatched to the scene this morning, they were met by a company of SDF search and rescue personnel. Right now they’re all bogged down in a squabble over jurisdiction. Could you ask your troops to stand down?”

Vice-Minister of Defense Sawashima’s imposing face paled. “You don’t seem to grasp the true significance of the situation. If we fail, the vampires will surely take control of Shinjuku. They chose this place to mount their invasion because it already stunk to high heaven. Our investigators inform us that many of your citizens are already becoming vampires. Minister Enkaida, could you provide us with some concrete numbers?”

The bodyguard next to Minister Enkaida handed over his briefcase to the minister, who extracted a file and opened it on the table. The minister sported a bow tie and wire-rim glasses with thick lenses that didn’t dim the light in his calculating eyes.

“These are the vampire transformations calculated by the Ministry over the past three days alone. The rate is rapid and increasing. Taking this as the base and running projection models through our computers, after three more days, the entirety of Shinjuku’s population will be vampires.”

Anticipating Kajiwara’s surprise at finding out that their investigators had stolen into the city to collect this data, Minister Enkaida spit out the information with a perverse pleasure.

“Hmm,” Kajiwara said with a look of deep concern. “So, how do you suggest we proceed?”

“Today at noon we will institute martial law for this night only. Then at dawn, only those citizens who can walk in the full light of the sun will be escorted outside the ward. The monsters who remain will be eradicated.”

“And how will you accomplish that?”

“Vampires have the intelligence of human beings,” continued the Vice-Minister of Defense. “We can’t expect them to hide themselves where, as humans, they know they’d be easily found. They’re not going to let their guard down for a single night. Mounting a frontal assault would be dangerous even for our eradication crews. So it stands to reason in this instance—and this is only me thinking out loud for now—to deploy a tactical nuclear weapon.”

The temperature of the room seemed to drop, made colder by the knowledge of Sawashima’s objectives.

Kajiwara paused long enough to make it look like he was seriously considering the scheme. Then he said, “With all due consideration, I want to make it clear that when it comes to vampires and tactical nuclear devices and the like—in the off-chance that PR flacks from other wards are listening in even now—I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“You—what game do you think you’re playing here?” rumbled the Cabinet Secretary. A vein throbbed in his forehead. There was something to the proposition that a politician’s merits rested upon his abilities of oration, though the delivery here was a little thin.

“You can’t grasp the unfathomable threat posed to the world? And it all originated in your—in this accursed city. I have to wonder about your sense of responsibility.”

“That it originated in this city—I find that difficult to understand as well. As for this vampire epidemic you speak of, I’m afraid it’s nonsense. What genuine threat has actually been realized in the outside world?”

The three government officials exchanged silent glances. As the Vice-Minister of Defense leaned forward, Kajiwara held up a hand to ward him off. The timing was perfect. The Vice-Minister gulped and swallowed his retort.

“Alas, you seem to forgetting something very important.” Kajiwara spoke firmly. The gleam in his eyes almost gave him the aura of a different person. “This city is not like any other city. As you so kindly put it, this accursed place stinks to high heaven. That is why, according to the law—according to the Japanese constitution—Demon City Shinjuku shall govern itself with complete autonomy. Whatever goes on here, stays here, and is dealt with here according to Shinjuku’s laws and ordinances. Outside interference is allowed only when a threat that has arisen inside Shinjuku becomes a threat on a recognizable scale, and its effects reach beyond Shinjuku’s borders. And when the consent is given by the mayor of Shinjuku and a petition to act is properly filed. Could you educate me as to the applicable state of affairs corresponding to those two points?”

A long moment of silence followed.

The Welfare Minister said, “Mr. Mayor—you do know there are vampires—”

“I know, I know.” Kajiwara nodded his head emphatically. “Everybody in this city knows. I would like to tell you I know all about their characters, their abilities, all aspects of their lives. But that would be a lie. This government collects no such information.”

“How irresponsible!” The Cabinet Secretary thumped his fist on the table. “I cannot believe what I am hearing! You are the highest executive in this city. Isn’t it your job to find out what these monsters are made of, and where they’re headed next? Should that ignorance lead to the death of one innocent citizen, it would be unforgivable.”

“Excuse me, but in the ward where you live, are there not murderers living among the citizenry? Do the mayor and the authorities comprehend the personalities and the predilections of the victims and the perpetrators with anything approaching absolute certainty?”

“They’re human beings.”

“I am talking about the citizenry,” Kajiwara said crisply. “I don’t know about anywhere else, but here in Shinjuku a citizen can be something other than a human being. Well, that’s this foul and accursed city for you. Submit a change-of-residence registration, and with the consent of the ward council any living thing may call himself a citizen. To tell the truth, the consent of the ward council technically isn’t even required. We don’t assert the authority to refuse entry. Aside from a mailing address and the census information, it’s none of the ward’s business anyway.”

“This is no time for such high-minded idealism!” sneered the Vice-Minister of Defense. Compared to the ogre-like countenances of the other two, his at least appeared normal. “Well, this certainly puts Shinjuku and its mayor in a whole new light. But things having progressed to this point, we can’t very well leave it alone.”

“Because things have progressed well beyond your ability to grasp. You do not comprehend the nature of the dangerous situation itself. I would rather you took responsibility for the unauthorized use of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Complex and its destruction. Naturally, I expect the rest of Tokyo to bear the cost of hauling away the rubble. Questions about the citadel’s purpose and the activities that went on there are sure to come up at the next council meeting.”

“It’s obvious that any further discussions will prove pointless,” Vice-Minister Sawashima said to the other two. “We will have to proceed to the next course of action by ourselves. Is that okay with you, Kajiwara-san?”

“No problem,” said the mayor, nodding resolutely, but he couldn’t help but feel disheartened. “I shall submit a claim request vis-à-vis the destruction of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Complex later. Take care.”

After the three left, Kajiwara got up from the sofa and returned to his executive chair. His legs were shaking. He hadn’t noticed until now. The effectiveness of that chair was truly miraculous. His legs and guts calmed down in thirty seconds.

He tried to fathom what had just happened. But he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Something was missing. What he needed was a cigar. He picked up the phone and spoke to his secretary, but it seemed they were out of cigars.

“How about the peaches?” he asked.

“We do have those.”

“Bring one in, if you please.”

The peach was brought in.

“You couldn’t have peeled it first?”

“Sorry.”

“No matter. You can go.”

Kajiwara peeled the peach in silence. By the time the pale flesh appeared, his thoughts had ordered themselves. He took a bite as he gazed out the window. The order stood to screen all pedestrians at the gates with peaches. Nothing unusual had turned up so far. The night watch had been increased, and equipped with stakes and hammers or crossbows. Work was already underway to make announcements on the local television station, and notice had been placed in the newspapers warning people to refrain from going out at night.

And as for the others—there were those three.

The owners of such unworldly beauty rose up in Kajiwara’s thoughts. Their battle above the clouds in that unknown country must be unfolding even now. He hadn’t heard anything from Setsura since he’d entered the domain of the Demon Princess. Doctor Mephisto had vanished from his hospital the night before. Yakou hadn’t been seen after last being spotted at the west entrance of Chuo Park.

Could he trust them? Kajiwara had resolved in his heart that he must. But as mayor, that wasn’t enough. In this city, faith without works was dead. He had to act.

Kajiwara had no intent of pitting the citizens of his city against the vampires, good guys against bad. Was the vampire transformation so justifiably loathsome in the first place? Various religious groups would undoubtedly raise strong objections. And weren’t there some among the human population who didn’t mind at all becoming creatures of the night?

For example, the kids who partied all night in Kabuki-cho and Shinjuku Nichome. Their only attachment to the daylit world was in order to earn their keep. If they could survive rent-free off a few nutrient drinks, how many would be perfectly content to spend their lives in the dark? And if they found drinking the blood of others immoral, what about the blood of their comrades?

Taking this a step further, could they sate their hunger with their own blood? Or for that matter, synthetic compounds with the same properties?

Whether the world of the day or the world of the night, living in Shinjuku made them citizens. Nobody discriminated according to sex, occupation, or race. The ward would not be joining forces with those panicked over a “vampire transformation.”

It should be enough to resolve the conflicts at an individual level. Should violence break out, then it was time for the authorities to step in. Those who inflicted harm on others without justification would be detained according to the law, repeat offenders isolated and institutionalized with all due process.

For the time being it would be necessary, of course, to distinguish among those who wished to become vampires and those who did not. But doing so was still a work in progress.

His teeth bit into the peach pit. Kajiwara scowled. The city below him shone in the sunlight. He knew better than most that this was the time when he must act.

The night continued to assault the day.

The inhabitants of the abandoned sewers and basements and undergrounds grew steadily in number. Despite the summer weather, it seemed that more and more people were wearing scarves around their necks, and sunglasses and gloves.

Those who had been happy-go-lucky until the day before squatted in the shadows with labored breaths, while their neighbors fell into the habit of frequenting only nearby markets when it was time to do the dinner shopping.

The parents of the exhibitionistic Miss Shinjuku were overjoyed when she started wearing long-sleeved pantsuits upon leaving the house. Except one night she never came home, and was found sleeping in the basement of an abandoned building a mile away.

But far more tragic incidents were also taking place. A Yaraicho professor of black magic determined that his next-door neighbor was a vampire, and stole into his house, stake and mallet in hand. But his staked victim turned out to be the vampire’s wife, taking a midday nap.

In her home outside Shinjuku, Tomoko Kanan pored through the legends and folklore of ancient China for two days straight, absorbing every bit of information she could with her bloodshot eyes.

His body covered with dirt and dust, General Ryuuki slept in an abandoned Shinto shrine in Shin-Okubo and dreamed blood-red dreams. As if mocking his ability to survive without drinking the blood of others, those dreams had him living in a heightened state of anguish.

Curiously enough, General Bey bedded down in a block of model housing near Shinjuku Station. The houses were built with the most modern of lightweight steel frames, the facades finished with simulated stucco. This foreign vampire lord rested comfortably on a soft waterbed. The only dream he dreamt was of a disco in Kabuki-cho. As the eye brutally wounded by the Demon Princess healed—the pain was already gone—he plotted the revenge he would take when the sun set.

A knock at the door. Without putting the beaker and lead spoon down, Mephisto said, “Come in.” He was in one of Kikiou’s laboratories. “What do you want?” he added, not acknowledging Setsura. Not looking at the person he was addressing was one of his distinguishing characteristics.

“Call it a consultation,” Setsura said, his voice more hushed than usual.

“About what?”

“That’s okay. Continue with whatever you’re doing.”

“And what request would you make of this traitor?”

“This is about what happened before.”

“Then hurry up and speak your mind.”

Mephisto waved the spoon back and forth. A rainbow cloud rose from the beaker, assuming a geometrical shape as it approached the ceiling.

“Pretty smoke, that.”

Mephisto placed the spoon and beaker on the table and turned to the intruder.

“My bad, eh?” Setsura smiled, a mien so unflappable as to be taken for the guileless smile of an angel. “Yakou wouldn’t be in, would he?”

“You can see for yourself.”

“He was with you.”

“State your business.”

“Two requests, actually.”

“I shall at least listen.”

“Thanks.”

Setsura tentatively approached and pointed at a chair leaning against the wall. “Mind if I take a seat?”

“I’m not using it.”

“Then I will.”

The Demon Physician glanced dismissively at his friend settling onto the cramped wooden chair.

“What are you doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.”

“I haven’t got a clue.”

“Fashioning hands and feet for Kikiou. From bones.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. Obviously just lopping off his head won’t do.”

“Perhaps you should try a different decapitation technique.”

“Rather than that old geezer, why not devote your attentions to someone with more of a future?” Setsura took a white flower from his pocket. A moon lily. “Prepare this the right way and we could return Yakou to normal. I’d like you to think through the possibilities.”

“Huh.”

Mephisto plucked the flower from his fingers and brought it up to his nose. The flower seemed to glimmer, as if literally glowing with moonlight. If Kikiou or Yakou were privy to this conversation, they’d hit the roof. Or merely conclude that Setsura had finally lost the rest of his marbles.

Mephisto was a vampire, one of Kikiou’s colleagues. Yakou was too. And yet here was Setsura seeking Mephisto’s help in curing Yakou and destroying this world. And far from rejecting the possibilities, Mephisto showed every sign of going along with him.

Who were these two whose actions confused the most incomprehensible creatures of the night?

“Fine.” Mephisto nodded. “And the other request?”

“This one’s a bit trickier.”

“Let me decide that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop stringing it out.”

“I want you to cure Kanan-san.”