Part 2: Chapter 1

PART 2: TRANSFER

   It was midnight at Marunouchi, yon-cho-me. Buildings with darkened windows rose up against the skyline. Not a soul could be seen along the walks under rows of gingko trees, and the only presence was that of flitting moths attracted to the streetlights, shedding their tiny scales on the sidewalk below. The office district was so quiet that you could almost hear those moths bumping into the iron lampposts.
   But the silence outside apparently made no difference to the big trading firms that held the weight of the economy on their shoulders; even now, there was still light coming from the twelfth floor of the Mitsune Productions building. The Third Export Division managed all trade with Europe. There were only two weeks left until August, when the EC Import Regulation Act would take effect. In a last-chance rush to get exports out, all the department's traders were being forced to work at full capacity around the clock.
   Inevitably having gotten tired at this hour, some people were taking catnaps on the sofa, whereas others had gone out for a bite at the ramen shops near Tokyo station. Inoue narrowed his bloodshot eyes and inputted the next day's projected exports into the online system's workstation that connected him with the overseas export system. But with his metal-framed glasses covered in fingerprints, he didn't look nearly his normal stylish self.
   "How much is left?" Hashiguchi, who had been napping on the sofa, propped himself up on his elbow and called over to Inoue. His voice clearly stifled a yawn.
   "It shouldn't take too long--all that's left is the household electronics slated for shipment to France." Using his vinyl code sheet as a fan, Inoue blew air onto his chest through his V-neck T-shirt.
   "So how much have the exports increased by?" Rubbing his swollen eyelids, Hashiguchi looked over Inoue's shoulder at the screen.
   "200% more than last year, most likely. When I think that all this might get stopped at customs, it scares me."
   "Some friction has to be expected. After all, in two weeks, we're going to take a 90% hit off of last year's exports."
   "The kacho and the others are sure taking their time. How long does it take to eat a bowl of ramen? I bet they stopped for drinks afterwards."
   "Why don't you have a rest. I'll take over with the data entry for a bit." Hashiguchi patted Inoue on the shoulder and smiled sympathetically.
   "OK then, thanks." As Inoue stood up and stretched, the modem rang. The LED signalling data transfer from the national branch office lit up.
   "What do they want at a time like this?" Hachiguchi said.
   "Oh, I'm sure they just want some of our leftover stock. Of course with all our efforts focusing on exports right now, this isn't the time for that." Already getting ready for a rest, Inoue had no other excuse to make.
   "No need to get upset at them...the poor guys at the branch office are still working at this godforsaken hour, just like us."
   While soothing his coworker, Hashiguchi swiched over to the disk drive and turned the computer over into receive mode. The list of enumerations vanished, and the screen turned completely green. Normally at this point, the ID number of the person sending the transmission would be displayed onscreen. However, the display was changing many colors and displaying strange unknown symbols instead.
   "What the heck is this?" Unusual letters scrolled down the screen, but the two of them had no way of knowing that it was ancient Hebrew. Presently the screen displayed an image of a standing statue of a man.
   "I'd like to tell those guys at the branch office not to play stupid jokes in the middle of the night like this." Looking disinterestedly at the screen with a sidelong glance, Inoue lit a cigarette.
   Perhaps it was because of the tobacco smoke, but the two men did not notice the musky smell that started seeping through the office. Still, even as a prank, this mysterious statue was pretty well-done CG. A body with the symmetry of an ancient Greek sculpture. Long, black hair. Vivid, rose-colored lips. And his deep black eyes had an unfathomable devilishness about them.
   "Not that it makes any difference, but this is some pretty high-level CG here," said Hashiguchi.
   "Is it CG? It looks almost like a photo." As Inoue looked closely at the display, the unpleasant smell of singed cigarette filter wafted through the air.
   "Oh! Sorry 'bout that." While Inoue turned his attention to putting out his cigarette, the man drawn on the display smiled and pointed at Hashiguchi. His finger was tipped with a claw that looked almost like a bird of prey's talon. This was about the time where the concept of polygons first started becoming widely-known. Hashiguchi was enthralled by the graphics--graphics that would normally be impossible to display without the use of a massive supercomputer.
   Right about that time, Hashiguchi noticed that the display looked like it was damp, as if covered in a layer of condensation. As he tried to wipe off the sreen with his hand, he felt something stick to his fingertips, and jumped back in surprise. Something slimy was stuck to his fingers, and as he shook them violently, a heavy-feeling, disgusting jelly-like substance fell to the floor with a splat.
   "Ugh! What the hell is this!?" Turning around at Hashiguchi's cry, Inoue was hit with a wave of shock and stood still, dumbfounded. Beneath the skin of the pink protoplasm, a mesh of green-colored veins spread out, and the whole blob pulsated like some sort of organ torn out of its host. The repulsive lump of flesh made a squishing sound as it started to approach the two men. Backing up, Inoue stumbled over a chair and sprayed the contents of his stomach all over the floor.
   "Inoue! Get a hold of yourself!" Grabbing his coworker's arm to keep him up, Hashiguchi ran toward the the door. As he turned, the gelatinous blob lashed out tentacles covered in a viscous sticky fluid like red jam, and in an instant grabbed onto the legs of both men.
   "Shit!" Crying out, Hashiguchi grabbed files and the phone off his desk--any object within reach--and began throwing them at his attacker, and when it showed no fear, grabbed a chair, lifted it over his head, and brought it crashing down on top of the thing. However, the skin of the gelatinous blob simply pulled the steel chair into its body, where it was quickly dissolved right in front of Hashiguchi's eyes.
   Thump, thump.
   Hashiguchi could no longer tell whether the sound he heard was that of his own heart beating, or whether it was the sound of the lump of flesh pulsating. When he was brought back to his senses by a strange sensation emanating from his foot, Hashiguchi's entire right leg was surrounded by the pink lump of flesh. He tried to cry out, but terror had sealed his throat and he could not even speak.
   Steadily, greedily, the pink blob started to pull Hashiguchi's body into its own. He felt no pain. Like sinking into warm mud, along with a boundless feeling of loss, there was only the sense of his impending death.
   Help me... No longer able to speak, Hashiguchi clawed at the air as if trying to find something to grab onto as a last resort, and in that instant, the blob clamped down onto his torso with an incredible force.
   The shock sent Hashiguchi's eyeballs flying out of their sockets, and in an instant his crushed ribs shredded his internal organs; the blood that came pouring out of his body was absorbed by the blob. Only Hashiguchi's skull protuded from the mound of flesh, and presently pink tentacles started flowing out of his open mouth and eye sockets.
   Now the only person on the deserted floor of the building, Inoue could hardly believe that Hashiguchi's gruesome death was for real. His capacity for rational thought completely gone, he stabbed maddly at the tentacle grabbing his leg with a ballpoint pen, as if to try to tear it off, and at that moment he felt someone looking at him and returned to his senses.
   At some point, the gelatinous lump had grown an eyeball. Sinister and full of malice, it stared at Inoue. The tentacle slowly crawled up his body from his leg to his chest.
   Watching his body being sucked into the grotesque mass of protoplasm, something snapped inside Inoue. Overcome with a rush of madness, he let out a shriek of cackling laughter. Right at that time, the floor's elevator made a sound, opened, and his coworkers returned from their break.
   "What's with those guys? What are they laughing at?"
   "I bet they're slacking off on the job and watching TV." Not having any idea what was going on, the men looked at each other, unaware of the carnage that they were about to step into the middle of.