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Chapter 41

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“The lateral movement—twenty-seven miles at most. The vertical movement is minus one and a half miles. The eastern portion moves east-southeast on a line that forms an acute angle of almost thirteen degrees with the geodesic line, while the western section slides south at an angle of six degrees. As for Kyushu, the entire island revolves to the left, sliding its south side around to face east.”

“The vertical movement is minus one and a half miles,” muttered the geologist from the institute. “In that case, the mountain regions will remain.”

“Even if they do, it will do precious little good,” said Nakata. “Don’t forget the landslides and the eruptions. Nor is this the end of things. The sinking will go on.”

“That’s right,” said the young man from the Weather Service, studying the CRT figures. “Even after the radical movement is over, both the sinking and the lateral movement will continue at an average rate of several inches a day.”

“And when is this going to happen?” asked Yukinaga hoarsely.

“According to our model, at the 302nd second,” said the meteorologist, his voice quavering. “In terms of days, 312.54.”

“Less than a year,” said the geologist, with an anguished sigh. “Ten months . . . about . . .”

The group stood about the plastic block as though numbed. A mere ten months was all that was left.

The blood seemed to be draining from Yukinaga,, He felt as though he were about to vomit. The floor seemed to be dissolving beneath his feet. In a mere ten months it would begin. What could possibly be done within so short a period?

Nakata, his eyes raised to the bulletin board, folded his arms and stood rigid as a statue. But then, abruptly making his decision, he picked up the phone.

“Are you calling the secretary general?” asked Yukinaga.

“No, the Prime Minister,” said Nakata brusquely as he pressed the call button.

“When will you disclose to us your evacuation program?” asked the leader of one of the independent parties. “You must have it fairly well in hand by now. At the time of the public announcement in two weeks, you’ll have to give out some sort of outline at least. Otherwise there’d be an uproar, wouldn’t there?”

“Since the obvious course would have been to set up a nonpartisan committee to deal with this crisis,” said the leader of the major opposition party with a frown, “forgive me if I seem ungracious at hearing the news. The government of the administration party, while keeping this from us, has for some time now been secretly pouring it into the ears of the business world. And what’s happened already is that our industrial assets are beginning the flight abroad without anyone knowing about it. The government has the obligation to administer equal justice to all, and what kind of behavior is this partiality shown finance and industry but the grossest sort of inequity? I think that it is but another instance showing the perverse character of the administration party. And with regard to plans for evacuation, what I want to know is this: is the saving of the life of every citizen of Japan the thing that is given priority above all else, or isn’t it? Mr. Prime Minister, before a non-partisan group looks into the matter, I would like to hear from you with regard to this point.”

“Let this be understood: our overriding intent is to save the lives of the entire Japanese people, making no exceptions whatsoever,” answered the Prime Minister. “To accomplish this we are making use of every means at our disposal. However, what about after the disaster? How are 110 million people going to live from then on? The government is obliged to face up to this problem also.”

“Well and good,” said another party head. “But, judging from the conduct of your party, it seems to me that you gentlemen, while giving lip service to the worth of human life, have in fact been most concerned with planning for the continuance of the financial and industrial life of this nation and, more than that even, for the continuance of the nation itself and its structure. Rather than the people, rather than individual men and women, it’s the nation and its structure that are more precious to you—the kind of bureaucratic thinking that goes back to prewar days, and it looks as though it’s never going to be rooted out. The kind of spirit that in the past has thought nothing of sacrificing fifty thousand or a hundred thousand lives for the sake of the prestige of the nation and the structure behind that prestige doesn’t fade so easily. But, at any rate, here’s what I wish to know: leaving the future to take care of itself, throwing aside prestige and formalities and hypocritical bureaucratic posturing about equal justice and everything of that ilk, is it your intention or is it not, Mr. Prime Minister, to throw yourself headlong into the task of saving the Japanese people, and to hell with structures?”

“Ogata . . .”

All at once the leader of the third largest of the opposition parties spoke up in his heavy, deep voice, which was like the lowing of a bull. It was a voice of crushing force, forged in the fierce debates and speeches of a long political career.

“You said a short time ago that politics was a backstage affair. But this way of thinking that all political matters can be settled backstage is where your party, with its bureaucratic way of running the government, has most gone astray since the war. And I think that this is the reason why most Japanese think of politics as a crafty, sinister business. Certain backstage activity is necessary in politics. But, at the same time, it is absolutely essential to go onstage, too. Especially in this crisis that brings us to the brink of national disaster. I feel that all is lost unless there emerges a ‘nation-saving hero’—a man of stalwart determination, a man who will give light to a fearful people, who will point the way, who will stiffen our resolve, a man with the strength to act forcefully, the strength to snatch the nation from the jaws of ruin. . . . Now, Ogata ... is there anybody in your party, not excluding yourself, fit to perform this vital onstage role? Do you think that you have strength and popular favor enough to turn yourself into the furious devil himself, Ashura, to take hold of the people and slash your way through the danger? Calling on a friendship that goes far back to when we were in school together, I beg your leave to speak frankly. Your political conduct has been a model of bureaucratic prudence, but—pardon me for saying so—I can’t see you as having anything like the resolution necessary to see the country through this crisis.”

“It’s a role, in other words, that you yourself will have to take, then?” said the Prime Minister, a somewhat stiff half-smile forming on his face. “Mr. Atsumi, as yet I have no idea whether or not you will be nominated to head the coalition Cabinet. As for myself, I don’t necessarily think that I have the ability that’s needed to see this crisis through. However, until such time as your ‘nation-saving hero’ makes his appearance, I have no choice but to put every ounce of strength into the task of somehow fulfilling the duties now entrusted to me. And then, too ... in present-day Japan the memories of the War are still vivid, and I have the feeling that there are very many Japanese who have had their fill of ‘nation-saving heroes.’ They feel in their bones, you see, that heroes and the cult of heroes have had a disastrous effect upon Japan and the lives of the Japanese people.”

“Well, at any rate,” said the head of the major opposition party, breaking in, “we would like you to give to our representatives just as quickly as you can a thorough explanation of Plan D and of the evacuation program insofar as it’s drawn up to date. We can’t very well wait two weeks until the Diet session.”

“Of course. We have the preparations all in order,” said the secretary general of the Cabinet. “Once you’ve had a conference of your chief secretaries and pick your representatives, we’ll be ready at any time to do as you direct.”

“You’ll have your conference in two days, I believe?” said the Prime Minister. “Two weeks is the time we’re aiming for, but the situation is such that the news might leak out at any time, from some source or other. Our foreign ties present a special risk. In that case, we’d have to make an immediate public declaration. So, gentlemen, I’ll be depending upon your good will. ...”

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