Thou livest; report me and my cause aright
To the unsatisfied.
- Hamlet, Act V Scene II [1]
Shion closed the book. He could hear the sound of rain.
This underground room was cut off from most outside sounds. But for some reason, the sounds of the wind and the rain always seemed to seep through the walls.
A mouse scurried up Shion's leg and perched on his knee. It twitched its whiskers and rubbed its front paws together as if in request.
"Nezumi."
"Hm?"
"Could it be the park?"
"The what?"
"The Forest Park in the centre of the city. My workplace― could that be where the parasite wasp originated?"
"Why?" said Nezumi. "That park is right in the middle of the city. It might be a forest, but it's still artificial. All the wildlife is managed and controlled by the city. If a parasite wasp sprung out of nowhere, they'd notice."
After their meal, Nezumi placed a petri dish and a pair of tweezers in front of Shion.
"I extracted this out of your incision. Try opening it up. This is probably right in your field."
"My field?"
In the petri dish was something black and stringy, about two centimetres long. Shion plucked it up with the tweezers. The slimy black object dangled from them, and looked half-melted. Upon closer scrutiny, Shion could make out evidence of something filmy at the end of it.
With a hand still laid on his hair, Nezumi was checking Shion's breathing as he slept. It was a little weak, but relaxed. It was not erratic.
―You made it through.
It was quite something. He wasn't exaggerating out of politeness or encouragement. Shion housed a lot more vitality than his looks gave away. It was a vitality that was tenacious and strong. Nezumi gazed at Shion's sleeping face― exhausted and weakened, but still breathing regularly nonetheless― and realized how tired he himself was as well. He was mentally, not physically, exhausted. He could neither understand nor come to terms with what he had just experienced. A sense of unease consumed his mind and made his very blood tingle.
―What's happening in there?
The flow of sewage was faster and deeper than what Shion had expected. Indiscernible objects floated past his face. Once in a while, something would cling to his goggles and block his vision. He could smell an odour unlike anything he had smelled before. Amidst the overarching smell of rot was a mix of sickly sweet scents and harsh odours that stung the nose. In this brownish murk, he could barely follow Nezumi, who swam in front of him. And more than anything, it was hard to breathe. His heart thudded, and his chest strained painfully.
He was right. Don't panic. Calm down. Be of sound mind. He had to buy more time. Shion relented.
"Please don't use any violence on me."
Shion inserted his ID card into the card reader of the Park Administration Office. The door opened soundlessly, and the air filtration system and temperature control started up. There was no one inside the office yet. It was odd that Yamase was not here already. Shion turned on the switch of the park administration system. It was the start of another work day.
"Good morning." An image of City Hall, The Moondrop appeared along with the greeting. "Your unwavering allegiance to the city―"
He placed his hand on the image of the Moondrop and recited slowly.
"I pledge hereon and ever my unwavering allegiance to the city of No. 6."
Hope. He repeated the word silently. It was a word he hadn't used for years. It was neither sweet nor bitter, but it slowly warmed him from deep inside of his body.
Hope. What do I hope for?
"Shion." Safu put her elbows on the table, and folded her hands over each other. She placed her chin on them, and gazed at Shion.
"I want to ask you something."
"What?"
"Four years ago ― why didn't you enroll into the Gifted Curriculum?" It was as if her question saw right through him. Shion broke off a piece of the blandly sweet apple pie with his hands. The filling oozed out onto the plate.
Index Case (First Discovered Example)
Male, aged 31 years. Employee at a biotechnology firm. Engineer. Already dead upon discovery. Confirmed address...
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.
"Don't move," he said.
He was shorter than me. Choked from below, I strained to get a look at his eyes. They were a dark, yet at the same time, light, grey. I'd never seen a colour like that before. His fingers clenched. He didn't look strong at all, yet I was completely unable to move. It wasn't something a normal person could do.
"I see," I managed to gasp. "You're used to doing this."
Nezumi was in a tunnel. In the darkness, he drew a quiet breath. The air smelled faintly of moist dirt. He inched his way forward carefully. The tunnel was small. It was just big enough for Nezumi to squeeze through, and it was dark. Light was nowhere to be seen, but it soothed his soul. He liked dark and small spaces. In these spaces, no large living things could come to capture him. Momentary relief and tranquility. There was a dull pain from the wound on his shoulder, but it wasn't enough to concern him. The problem, rather, was with the amount of blood he had lost.
