Epilogue: The Last Laugh.
Sasumu Yokoi looked out of the viewport at the all-white landscape beyond. Snow was falling in huge, gentle flakes which floated slowly to earth, undisturbed by any breath of wind. It was a peaceful sight, whose contemplation soothed his mind into a state of holy calm. He did not look away even when Junichi Tanagawa spoke to hima"though the director"s tone left no doubt that his fullest attention was required. He did not need to see the two identical objects which lay on the polished desk, reunited after their very different journeys.
"The order of things is restored," Tanagawa said. "A new balance has been struck, which has the ring of harmony in it."
"I am glad," said Yokoi, sincerely. "When matters of business go well, matters of science make progress. You are satisfied, I take it, that your deception has been completely successfula"GenTech"s directors now believe that their takeover of the American government is incomplete, and that they still have an important enemy within."
"I am satisfied," Tanagawa confirmed. "The mafia families sincerely believe that they have been recruited to a patriotic project, and while the families believe it, GenTech will also believe it. One day, of course, they will see through our masqueradea"but in the meantime, they have drawn in their horns; they dare not commit themselves to further aggressive expansion while there is any hint of rottenness at the core of their empire. And when, in the fullness of time, they realize what we have done, they will find us stronger, and better able to stand against their wrath. It will be necessary then to seek a new and better balance, but if fortune favours us, it will be possible to do it."
"I congratulate you, Tanagawa-san," said Yokoi dutifully. "The honour of the company is well served by the cleverness of your management."
"Now it is your turn, Dr Yokoi," replied the director. "Your matters of science must make progress, and very quickly. The true war is the war for empire over the minds of men, and yours is the battlefield to which Mitsu-Makema has undertaken to commit its greatest resources."
"You will have the best of me, Tanagawa-san," said Yokoi. "Be a.s.sured of it. All that I can do, I will do for Mitsu-Makema."
"I am certain of it," Tanagawa conceded. "Have you had time enough to reach a conclusion in the matter of the snake?"
"I have," said Yokoi. "I have, alas, been forced to the conclusion that it is a perfectly ordinary snake. There is not the slightest trace of any genetic or neurophysiological abnormality."
"Why alas?" asked Tanagawa, with a peculiarly grave levity. "It is an answer to the question which was posed. Its implication is perfectly clear."
"But we no longer have the boy," Yokoi pointed out. "We allowed him to be taken. If he, and not the snake, is the mutantasurely we should have held him here."
"Not at all," said Tanagawa, airily. "Had we done so, a new balance would have been so much harder to achieve, and there would have been little chance of harmony. The boy will come back to us, of his own free willa"what else can he do?"
"If you say that it is so," said Yokoi, "then I must believe it. And yeta"he has a certain unpredictable quality which makes me less than confident in saying that I know him."
"He has the best reason in the world for returning to us," said Tanagawa serenely. "We owe him money."
"Of course," Yokoi admitted. "And yetayou do not think, I take it, that there is any possibility that he knows? You are certain that he does not suspect, even after we told him so much while putting on our careful show of honesty and generosity, that he might be the alien rather than his pet?"
"He cannot suspect it," said Tanagawa, in a tone which forbade his companion to disbelieve it. "He is only a boy, after all, and what we told him was just so much dazzling light to the feeble eye of his intellect. He cannot have the remotest suspicion of what he might bea"in his own eyes he is a blank, a mystery, a zero. He will return to us; logic and harmony demand it, and in the fullness of time, the ends of logic and harmony are always served by fate."
Dr Yokoi watched the snowflakes falling, marvelling as he always did in the knowledge that every one was made up of thousands of smaller crystals, each one six-limbed, perfectly symmetrical, and yet unique. He composed a silent haiku to celebrate the astonishing ingenuity of nature, and wondered why it was that the same neatness and symmetry were nowhere to be found in the as-yet-accessible reaches of the human mind.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the Painted Desert, Kid Zero squatted down in front of a cool hollow beneath a stony ledge. He extended his hand towards the watchful snake which waited there, ignoring the loud rattle which bade him urgently to beware. It was as though he were offering to shake hands, though the only things with which the snake could grip him were its poisoned fangs.
When he would not withdraw, the snake struck.
The Kid accepted the bite unflinchingly, bringing his hand unhurriedly back in order to examine the twin punctures on the flap of skin connecting his thumb and forefinger. He put his lips to the wound and licked away the beads of blood which oozed from the wounds. Already he was beginning to feel giddy, but he was not afraid. The snake"s venom was biodegradable, and his body had already learned how to break it down and render it harmless. It would hurt a little, but it would also be intoxicating. He would not die; he would not even sleep.
He fixed the snake with his hypnotic gaze, and watched it calmly while it got thoroughly used to the sight and reek of him.
"There we are, old lady," he murmured, very quietly. "Now we"ve been properly introduced. We"re going to be friends, you and Ia"and this time, there won"t be just the two of us. This time, we"re going to be a ganga maybe even an org. We"re going to see exactly what might be made of us, with the aid of a lot of ambition and a little daring. You"re the first of many, and your job is to help me figure out just how invulnerable this ghost shirt of mine might be."
The snake, needless to say, did not replya"but that didn"t bother the Kid. He wasn"t particularly keen on talkative types, and he could supply enough lines himself to keep the conversation going.
"It could be really interesting," he said, with quiet confidence. "It could be the beginning of something very, very weird. Like I told Homer, I"ve got an Idea, and it"s a bigger Idea than he ever could have guessed. As yet, I don"t know what kind of mutant I am, or what I might be able to doa"but I"m sure as h.e.l.l going to find out. And you"re going to help me, aren"t you, old lady?"
He shook his head, because the poison which had been injected into his hand was making him deliciously drunk.
And then he laughed.
end.