Virus: The Day of Resurrection (25 page)

“To hear Landon talk, it seems to have been quite important,” said the minister. “It would be a terrible mess if that stuff were used in a war. Just as he said, the germs are too effective to be put into use yet. I can’t say I don’t understand that opinion, but—”

“No,” said Sir Lindner, cutting him off. “You can’t take everything he says at face value. Research scientists have a tendency to exaggerate the actual effects of their discoveries from time to time. If I may state my opinion as director of that laboratory, I don’t really think the MM series is all that powerful yet. I know what actual combat is like. But scientists think about things frankly, and on paper. But on a real battlefield, there are all kinds of overlapping coincidences, and the real effect of a weapon is never as great as it is on paper. Think about it. America used germ weapons in the Korean War, but their actual effectiveness was only a few percent of what was forecast. The Communist forces didn’t fall into fatal disarray as MacArthur thought they would. I’m quite certain that even if they had done as he wished and used the atom bomb, it wouldn’t have turned the tide of that war.

“When Landon talks about wiping out the entire human race with something like MM-79, well, it’s a fairy tale. The very idea that humanity could be annihilated by a mere germ—it’s nothing more than the sort of nonsense you’d find in a science fiction novel. I believe that even if you dropped megaton-class H-bombs all over the world, humanity would still survive, and that those who survived would be the victors. It’s dangerous to overestimate the significance of the MM series to such a degree. We’ve only just begun to study it.”

The minister wondered silently whether the man really believed what he was saying or if he was consciously trying to make the blunders that had led to this spying incident look less serious than they were. Still, regardless of whether Karlsky had in fact been a spy or just a simple neurotic, the damage was already done.

“I understand,” said Major Grey. “In any case, what I want to say is that the army’s secrets are still in danger. I can’t prove that Karlsky was a spy, but there’s reason enough to believe he might have been. Sir Lindner, speaking for the intelligence bureau, to have lagged so far behind in realizing this reflects poorly on our reputation, and officially we will have to deny the theory that Karlsky was spying. But I ask you, on your own authority, to please tighten security as much as you can.”

Sir Lindner pulled at his drooping mustache for a while as he considered this. “Very well,” he said at last in a gruff, husky voice. “We’ll tighten security. We’ll have to beef up our surveillance of the workers’ actions as well. For the new security system, I want the full cooperation of the intelligence department. After that, I’ll have the P-5 research group dissolved.”

“You’re pulling the plug on the MM series?” the minister asked.

“P-5 isn’t capable of doing much without Karlsky. I’ll also relieve Landon of the job of laboratory chief. He’s a childish man who doesn’t understand real politics, and in a way he’s dangerous. I’ll put him on something less interesting. Eventually, I’ll find someone else to take over work on the MM series. At any rate, we need to completely reorganize P-5.”

Sensing the tide of conversation beginning to ebb, Major Grey looked at the minister—in his position, he had a solid grasp of what was going on behind the scenes of the Karlsky incident. Why had a fastidious man like Karlsky gone and done such a reckless thing as to divulge state secrets? What ring of professional spies had he made the deal with? Who had been trying to buy those secrets from the spies that had served as middlemen? Had the deal been carried out successfully? Intelligence Section Five had been conducting an ultra-secret investigation of all of these questions for the past three months. Moreover, he intended to bury this incident in the shadows, with the approval of the Intelligence Bureau director and the minister. There was nothing to be gained in making public the failure of the Army Intelligence Bureau. There was a ninety percent probability that the deal had not been completed. In which case, he didn’t think it was a grave matter for national defense. Even so, it was necessary now to bolt up that laboratory good and tight, so nothing like this could ever happen again.

“Talk to our head of security about this problem,” Sir Lindner said, getting up from his seat. “Well, then, I think it’s time—”

“Arthur,” murmured the minister, looking out the window. “If the unthinkable were to happen at your laboratory, what kind of measures are you supposed to take?”

Sir Lindner’s white eyebrows drew tightly together for the first time. He glared at Major Grey’s face for a long moment, then in a subdued tone said, “We are living with thirty-five tons of TNT every day.” Sir Lindner cleared his throat. “The only ones who know are the chief of security, myself, and two others. The switch is in my room.”

“And what about the germ cultures?”

“Flames from napalm jelly burn at two thousand degrees Centigrade. That should take care of them for us.”

“I would hope they would …” said the minister in an oddly timid voice.

“Richard, at the very least, you shouldn’t be asking such things in your position.” Sir Lindner glared at Major Grey once more.

“Ah yes, well, that’s also true,” the minister said, his voice still soft. “Arthur, we have to assume that word of our MM series group has leaked out to a number of other countries. They most likely know what it is as well. Even if we discount what Landon had to say, that one-in-a-million scenario where this …
thing
gets out and becomes an epidemic would still be a huge mess, and we would be left standing at the focal point of an international scandal. The Soviets might expose us and start raining down criticism …”

“You’re not talking about that business with Geoffrey Bacon, rest his soul?” said Sir Lindner. “That was back in ’62. I had no connection with the laboratory until long after he went and got himself that lungful of plague. And we’ve managed to keep the newspapers from catching wind of anything this time.”

“Suppose, however, that as Major Grey suggests, the MM series passed into the hands of a spy ring by way of Karlsky, and then somewhere along the way, by some incredible streak of ill fortune, it got out and caused the sort of horribly virulent epidemic that Landon spoke of. From the humanitarian viewpoint, we could, under certain circumstances, be placed in a position in which we would have to release everything we know about the MM series to the public.”

For just an instant, Major Grey’s eyes glinted sharply, and he looked at the minister’s profile.

“Richard Cronin, don’t talk nonsense,” Sir Lindner said harshly. “What are we supposed to do if a man like you—with a duty to defend our country—starts saying such chicken-hearted things? If we did something like that, it would be damaging both to the secrets of our national defense and to the honor of Great Britain. You’re so taken with Landon’s idiotic fantasies because you’re an amateur. Don’t think such nonsense.”

Sir Lindner’s face was all wrinkles and brown spots, but for a moment it flushed pink with anger. This old man, filled with his narrow-minded pride, would flare up with anger when it came to the dignity of his homeland. “Even if it came to such a thing, in your position, surely you would deny the United Kingdom’s responsibility all the way to the very end. For the sake of the nation’s prestige! Even if, as the case may warrant, Landon … or individuals related to P-5 … needed to be muzzled.”

“Indeed, I have become a bit timid,” the minister said with a small, exhausted smile. “After all, I lost my daughter two weeks ago to this Tibetan flu epidemic. What do you think, Arthur? Do you think this dreadful influenza pandemic might be some kind of sign, a warning to you people about what you’re doing? According to this morning’s reports, the number of deaths in England alone is about to reach a million.”

The minister was glaring at him with blazing, bloodshot eyes, but when they met the gaze of his stubborn friend, he added apologetically, “I don’t mean to speak ill of the duty you’re carrying out for our country, Arthur. After all, we both bear responsibility for this.”

3. Japan

Golden week was long over, and clear days continued one after another, arid and crisp enough that it was a little chilly outside.

From time to time, there were intervals of terrible humidity, and then the rainy days began to come interspersed between the periods of sunny weather. The Weather Bureau forecast that the rainy season would arrive a little earlier this year than usual.

Between half past seven and half past eight on one such morning, commuters riding into downtown Tokyo on the loop line were feeling suddenly surprised to notice an oddly different quality in the usual morning rush hour.

Three months ago—or even two months ago—the trains at this hour would have been packed to overflowing, but lately they were becoming strangely sparse. At rush hour, the train cars on the national lines were usually so crowded that their doors would bulge outward, as though they might burst open at any moment. Lately, however, there had been room enough that there was no longer any need for station employees to help push last-minute stragglers into the trains or pull them away from the doors when it became impossible to cram any more inside.

Even among the eddying currents of passengers embarking and disembarking as they headed to work or school—all but spilling over from the platforms—sparse gaps had become visible when one suddenly took a look around. Every year, people always said that as winter gave way to spring, the crowding on rush hour trains would ease somewhat as people stopped wearing their winter coats and began to dress more lightly. This was a myth, however. In a city of twelve million like Tokyo, such seasonal changes were not enough to be felt by commuters. All year round, they were packed in as tight as they could fit—at least under normal circumstances.

But that May, it was different. It wasn’t because the city and national railway companies’ efforts at easing the nightmarish overcrowding had finally borne fruit. In fact, the national lines were being forced to rearrange their rush-hour schedules to run fewer trains now, since drivers and security personnel were getting harder and harder to find. The trains coming in one after another at each terminal station, which had once arrived at a near-miraculous rate of one every thirty seconds at the peak of the morning rush, had slipped to intervals of forty seconds, then to one minute, and were now arriving two minutes apart. In spite of the smaller number of trains, there was still room to spare in the cars, and people were able to get on and off without jostling one another at all. Was it really conceivable that from half past seven until eight o’clock in the morning that May, you could easily get on and off trains at any platform at Shibuya, Shinjuku, Ikebukuro, Akihabara, Tokyo, or Yūrakuchū stations without having to push and shove against thronging crowds? Three months ago, who could have imagined that by eight-thirty it would already be possible to find places to sit here and there on an inbound train?

But despite the roomy atmosphere of the train cars, all of the passengers wore brooding, uneasy expressions on their faces. They had at last begun to feel the sense of unearthliness that took hold near the end of the morning rush—an emptiness like the space where a missing tooth had once been—and to understand that things had now reached a stage at which they could not be easily undone. Although it was May, men were sweating under full overcoats and had silk scarves wrapped around their necks. Whenever people looked around, they saw white masks dotting the insides of the cars like strewn flower petals and felt anew a vague chill within the confines of these sparsely populated rush-hour cars, as when a draft is blowing in from under the door. It was then that they would feel a moment of terror as they wondered if the nasty chill running down their spines might be the first sign that they too had been infected with that loathsome Tibetan flu. Any time someone looked at the as-yet uninfected with moist, feverish eyes, any time that someone coughed violently, people would turn aside and shrink away in faint disgust. However, nearly all of these people also felt a dull, heavy pain around their own eyes and in their own throats and lungs.

According to classified data that had come to the Ministry of Health and Welfare, the number of those infected with Tibetan flu nationwide was already nearing thirty million. In cities and densely populated areas, the rate of infection was nearing seventy percent. The leadership of the Ministry of Health and Welfare still couldn’t fully accept such nightmarish numbers. From the day that Tibetan flu first arrived in Japan, not even two full months had passed. Even so, the estimated number of those infected by the Asian flu that had started in early summer of 1957 and continued through the following year had been five million. However, these numbers accounted for a period of about a year and included the second wave that hit Japan after that strain of influenza had traveled all the way around the world and come back again. Thirty million in two months! Not three million. There had been no mistake in the order of magnitude. Moreover, the death rate continued climbing uncannily higher, and in the cities, it was about to surpass twenty-five percent.