The conference was held one evening ten days later in an office building in central Tokyo, a place chosen to throw an inquisitive press off the trail. After it was over and all the participants had left, an official in the Prime Minister’s Office drove out of the garage beneath the building. When he reached the neighbor hood of the Palace Outer Garden, he pulled over to the curb and placed a long-distance call on his car telephone. An old man’s voice answered.
“It’s finished, sir,” said the official. “Nothing of significance came out. I’ll summarize the main points.” Then after he had read from his notes, he concluded by saying: “There was just one scientist there who came out with something unexpected. A man named Tadokoro. He said that it could happen that Japan would sink. The others thought he was out of his mind. . . . Yes, sir. Yusuke Tadokoro. . . . That’s right, sir. You keep well abreast of things. . . . What, sir?” The official frowned slightly. “Yes, sir. If now is suitable, I’ll come immediately.”
After he hung up the receiver, he sighed heavily and looked at the dashboard clock. It was 10:35. “Something’s on his mind,” he muttered. “I wonder what.”
Ten more days passed, and then a call from Yukinaga came to Tadokoro’s laboratory.
“Who do you want me to meet?” demanded Tadokoro impatiently. He had been working through the night for some time, and his face was covered with a thick growth of stubble. “You know how busy I am. A hotel, eh? That means a necktie, I suppose.”
“It won’t take much of your time, Professor, No more than thirty minutes. I’ve taken the liberty of sending a car to pick you up,” said Yukinaga, his tone frantically insistent. “This gentle man is a man who knew your father well.”
“Well, who is he, then?”
The line went dead. And at the same instant the interphone buzzed: “Professor Tadokoro, the car sent by Professor Yukinaga is waiting at the front door.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Wearing a wrinkled, sweaty shirt and carrying his crumpled jacket, Tadokoro strode into the Palace Hotel to be met at once by a young woman in an exquisitely arranged kimono.
“You are Professor Tadokoro?” she asked. “Please, this way . . .”
They made their way through groups of foreigners, business men, elegantly dressed young women, and other guests to a lounge a level higher than the lobby, where a tall, husky young man dressed in a dark suit came forward to meet them. He bowed politely to Tadokoro.
“We have been waiting for you, Professor. Please . . .”
Looking in the direction indicated by the young man’s out stretched hand, Tadokoro saw an old man crouched in a wheel chair. He was no more than skin and bones. Despite the heat, he clutched a blanket which lay over his knees.
“Where’s Yukinaga?” asked Tadokoro, turning back to the tall young man. But he was no longer behind him.
“You’re Professor Tadokoro.”
The old man’s voice was surprisingly strong. Beneath thick gray eyebrows, his sunken eyes were pale but bright, and they were focused upon Tadokoro’s face with piercing force. The small, pinched face, flecked with the splotches of age, seemed somehow to be laughing.
“Well, well! There’s certainly a resemblance. I knew your father. Hidenoshin Tadokoro. A stubborn young fellow, he was.”
“And your name, sir?” asked Tadokoro, looking full at the old man, his irritability fading.
“Mmmm. Sit down there,” said the old man, clearing his throat of phlegm. “What do names matter anyway? I tell you my name’s Watari, and that means nothing to you, does it? I am, however, more than a hundred years old. Come October, I’ll be a hundred and one. Medical science has made such progress that we old people aren’t allowed to go to our rest any more. And we become more and more arrogant with each passing year. We’ve seen everything, and with the end drawing near, there’s nothing left for us to be afraid of. Now today, having you come here like this—this, too, should be laid to an old man’s arrogance. There is something that I want to ask you. Would you be kind enough to give me an answer?”
“What’s the question, sir?” Tadokoro asked, wiping the sweat from his face. He had sat down in a chair beside the old man.
“There is just one thing that has caused me some concern,” the old man said, his piercing eyes looking directly into Tadokoro’s. “Perhaps you might think my question is childish. It has to do with swallows.”
“Swallows?”
“Yes. Every year swallows come and build a nest in the eaves of my home. For more than twenty years now. Last year they came in May, as usual, built their nest, and then, for some reason or other, they left in July. They abandoned their eggs. And this year they didn’t come at all. All around where I live, it was the same. What is the reason, I wonder?”
“Swallows, yes,” said Tadokoro, nodding. “Yes, of course. In the past two or three years the number of migrant birds has fallen off at an incredible rate. Ornithologists say that perhaps it’s because of a change in earth magnetism or in climate, but I feel that it’s due to something far graver. And it’s not just birds. There’s been a great change, too, in the size of the runs offish.”
“Hmmm. My heavens,” said the old man, “what does it all mean? Are these harbingers of something?”
“I can’t answer in definite terms,” said Tadokoro, shaking his head. “But I’m making every effort to find out what that some thing may be.”
“I see,” said the old man, coughing. “I have but one more question for you. For a scientist, what is the most precious thing?”
“Intuition,” answered Tadokoro without hesitation.
“Mmm?” The old man cupped his hand to his ear. “What is it?”
“I said intuition, sir,” said Tadokoro. “You may think it’s strange, but for a scientist—especially for a natural scientist— far and away the most precious gift he can possess is that of keen intuition. Without it, he’ll never make a notable break through.”
“I see. Very well,” said the old man, nodding emphatically. “Well, then, I must say goodbye. . . .”
The tall young man suddenly reappeared. A polite bow to Tadokoro, and he began to push the wheelchair away with quiet efficiency. In a moment both were gone.
When Tadokoro recovered from his surprise and took another look around him, there was still no sign of Yukinaga. A bellboy, however, came by calling for Dr. Tadokoro. The message was from Yukinaga: “Please forgive me. I’ll explain at some other time.”