Chaos in Kadoma Ward – Chapter 11

We walk along the sidewalk next to the butsu, and I get a chance to see the marvel in action close up. There are designated spots every ten meters for people to walk on and off. All they have to do is queue up and step on when there’s a break in the stream of citizens zipping along. The purple lane is not much faster than a brisk walk, and many older adults ride without moving their legs close to the sidewalk. It seems a comfortable and safe way for them to travel. As far as I can tell, just through observation, once you step into the purple lane, the force behind the butsu grabs you and pulls you along, then you can step up the speed by walking on your own.

As I follow next to Rin, I periodically clutch his arm to move out of the way of teens running into and out of the butsu. It’s late morning, and school is out for lunch, so it appears racing on the butsu is a beloved pastime for younger kids. They laugh and yell at each other as they cross from purple to yellow to green and back down again, only slowing when a guard in Kiiroi Yama clothing, traveling the yellow line, points to them, blows a whistle, and yells at them to stop. Their profiles, blinking with credit deductions, appear on the butsu status screens lining the inner barriers.

“Fuck you!” One kid yells as he races past. The Kiiroi Yama guard laughs and shakes his head. I laugh too, surprised at their exchange.

“I wish I had grown up here instead of under the domes back on Earth,” Kazuo says, his eyes sparkling. “My sister would’ve loved this.”

“Is your sister back on Orihimé?” Rin asks, and I tense, knowing the answer.

“My sister is dead. She went off the deep end and joined forces with the wrong people.” Kazuo keeps his eyes on the surrounding crowd, probably wondering who the right or wrong people are here. “Does everyone grow up like this?” He waves to another group of teens pushing past older people to jump onto the butsu. Though we’ve seen lively teens so far who interact with those around them, I don’t remember seeing many kids younger than six or seven. Well, except for the one who made fun of me yesterday.

The declining birth rate must be a new circumstance.

“Not everyone. There are no butsues in the countryside, and only two other cities on the continent have them. But this is a time-honored tradition,” Rin says, directing us to the line of people queuing up at an entrance point. “I ran the butsu when I was a kid. Butsu jumping is terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Only the good ones make it out without injury.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his head.

I draw in a sharp breath, scaring an old lady waiting in front of us. “That’s how you got your scar.”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, looking away. “Tripped on a toy a kid dropped and flew into someone’s suitcase. I dragged it along the butsu for about thirty meters with my head.” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to make light of the situation. “I shut down most of the purple lane for an hour while they scraped me off the surface. Two weeks in the hospital and cost me a pretty penny.”

“Wow. That sounds horrible. And you’re okay now? No headaches like me?”

“Nope. Seems strange I wouldn’t suffer from them like you suffer your migraines, but I only had a slight concussion. I just lost a lot of blood. Head injuries are like that. The butsu is actually really soft. You’ll see. Hardly anyone ever gets hurt on it except to twist an ankle or break a bone. They get hurt crashing into other objects. Like suitcases.”

“How old were you when it happened?” I love that I’m learning more about him. He’s a treasure chest I need three crowbars and a hammer to open, but I will eventually crack it.

“Twenty-two. About nine years ago. Too old to be running the butsu for fun. I only do it now for work.”

Work. I’m not ready to think of him going back to work yet.

“Are you ready?” The grin on Rin’s face is devilish as he rubs his hands together. “I’ve never taught anybody else how to use the butsu, but I remember how I learned.”

We’re one person away from getting on. I glance back at Kazuo, but his eyes are on the butsu, not on me. The stress of a new situation makes me sweat, and somewhere in the back of my head, I wonder how many times Atsumi wore these clothes I’m now dousing in my own sweat. My brain throbs, but I ignore it. I don’t have time for its nonsense today.

“How did you learn?”

We’re next. My heart rate speeds up.

“Like this.” Rin grabs my hand, and despite my instincts to snatch it back, he pulls me onto the butsu with a violent jerk.

“Hey!” I stumble, but the invisible hand of the butsu straightens me up and ushers me along at a brisk walking pace. I’m not even moving my legs! Looking behind me, Kazuo laughs as he steps on, his hands clasped behind his back. “Show off!” I yell at him.

I pause for a moment, trying to ignore my hand in Rin’s and the people eyeing us as they switch lanes to walk around. It must be an unusual sight to see, three grown adults acting like newcomers. Do people come in from the countryside to check out the butsu? Maybe it’s boring, even to them.

Rin squeezes my hand. “Do you have the feel of it now?”

“Yeah. It’s weird, but not too weird, you know?” He was right. The butsu is soft, a rubbery cloud my feet spring off of.

“You have a way with words.”

“It’s my job to have an expansive vocabulary.” I can’t take my eyes off my feet. Watching the surface of the butsu speed by underneath them is confusing. “What happens if I turn around?”

“Go ahead,” he says, releasing my hand. The warmth of his touch fades quickly as the wind whips past me. I shiver, still not used to the cold.

Turning around, I face Kazuo, and though the sensation is strange, the same force is applied no matter the orientation of my body. I look up and around, noting the drones flying far overhead, keeping tabs on everything for Kiiroi Yama and the other corporations.

“You can walk backwards too,” Rin says, walking backwards away from me but in the direction of traffic. “But walking against the butsu is difficult, and if you’re not careful, you’ll be fined.” I glance over my shoulder at Rin trying to walk against the force of the butsu and re-join me. Instead, I turn around and join him.

“What happens if a kid gets left behind and his mom is far ahead?”

“She would exit the butsu and wait for him to catch up,” Rin says, pointing to an upcoming exit.

“Makes sense.” They thought of everything, but I’m sure there are special cases. If I were an ambulance-chaser journalist, I’d watch the butsu every day for mishaps and accidents.

“Enough talking,” Kazuo says, speeding up his gait. “Let’s move faster.”

“If we separate, you want to exit at point A-18. We’ll meet there,” Rin says, pointing to the exit markers.

“Bye!” Kazuo waves as he runs off, his long coat flapping around his legs. People scramble to move out of his way, and two teens slow up in his wake. I suppose if we were going to ally with anyone here, the law enforcement corporation was a good choice.

“Come on,” Rin prompts, so I unlock my knees and start to walk.

The purple lane immediately becomes too sedate for me.

“See? Easy.” Rin snaps his finger. “Move up to yellow?”

“Sure.”

Switching to the faster lanes is a lot easier than I thought it would be. As long as you’re moving, there’s a width of the butsu between lanes that speeds you up before spitting you into the next color.

“Keep your head up,” Rin says, tugging on my arm. “You need to watch where you’re going.” In the yellow lane, I’m now traveling twice the pace of a sprinter, and I’ve barely broken a sweat because my body is walking at a leisurely pace. “Pay attention to those around you so you can move on and off the lane and keep track of your location. At yellow speed, you’ll come up on exits quickly enough. The green lane is only used for far distances.”

Exit A-10 blurs past. Appearing in front of us, floating projection advertisements try to sell Rin a trip to a hostess bar where women dress up like bunnies and cats and serve people on their knees.

“Been there?” I ask, jerking my head at it, trying to pay attention to my place on the butsu and still gauge his reaction.

“Yeah. They have good scones.”

“Scones?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what scones are. What kind of backwater world do you come from?” He mocks shock, dives right, picks up his pace, and hits the green lane at full tilt.

“Hey!” My voice doesn’t carry very far but startles a woman walking next to me. I bow to her, flustered to be left alone.

My eyes follow Rin as he speeds away from me. He dodges four people, banks off the inner butsu wall, shoots across the green lane, and squeals into the yellow lane about three hundred meters ahead. I start running, hoping I can catch up, but my new black flats bite into my feet. They’re about a half size too small and not meant for running.

Even from far away, I can see a broad smile dominate Rin’s face as he takes two leaping steps, jumps, and comes down in a crouch, bouncing off the butsu and into the slow purple lane. Now I’m moving faster than him. I try to edge around the people in front of me because I can’t see him. Where did he go?

“Hi there,” he says, coming right up next to me. “Miss me?”

“Shit!” I clutch at my chest, trying to catch my breath. “Is this what you do for fun?”

“Used to. It feels like ages since I ran the butsu for fun. Now I do it to catch androids looking to make a run for it. They’re never as skilled as real humans.”

We walk at an ambling pace behind a group of people pulling away from us because they’re walking faster. A little kid in the group, holding his father and mother’s hands, swings between them.

“Look,” I say, pointing to them with my chin. “How can he do that?”

Rin shrugs his shoulder. “Once the force of the butsu has you in its grips, you can move however you like. I’ve seen people knit while on the butsu. Dance.”

He turns to me, a wicked grin curling his jagged cheekbone. He takes my left hand in his right, his left hand sneaks around my waist, and he pulls me to him. I’m so shocked; my breath is lost in a puff of air, caught by the wind and forced down the butsu behind me. I shiver, the temperature change apparent now that he’s blocked the wind. I was just getting used to the cool air whipping around me. Now I’d rather not pretend to dance but instead curl up against his chest and try to get warm again.

But he’s in a mood, humming a tune I don’t recognize, holding my waist and swaying my body against his. It’s sweet and romantic the way his hand clutches at my lower back and he dips his head to rest his cheek on mine.

I remember my mission, to scout out this planet, to help unite us all and save everyone on Orihimé.

Not to fall in love and lose myself.

His attention is everything though. It’s comforting. It’s thrilling.

It’s dangerous. We shouldn’t be doing this.

My heart races as I try to pull away, but he guides me through his arm into a spin, directs me back, and then dips me, all the while laughing. My brain beats in my head, thumping on the inner lining of my skull, as my face heats.

I thought I didn’t get embarrassed. But it’s been ten years since I had the attention of a man I find attractive. Perhaps my embarrassment has been hiding, waiting to come out at the most inconvenient moment.

Two people behind us clap as I find my feet underneath me again.

“Sorry,” he says, letting go of me. “You looked liked someone who could use a good dance and a smile.”

“It was a rough morning.” I keep my head down as I straighten out my shirt and compose myself. It was nice to have him close and to forget about things for a fraction of a second. Do I admit it?

“Thanks for the spin,” flies out of my mouth. I guess I do.

“Anytime.” He seems pleased, relaxing at my smile.

I smooth my windblown hair and try to remember what we were talking about. “What else can you do on the butsu? Aren’t we coming up on our exit?”

I look up at the overhead pedestrian pass and see A-15 zip past us. Kazuo is nowhere to be seen. Good. I didn’t want him witnessing that, anyway.

“We are. And there’s plenty more you can do on the butsu, but most of it will get you fined. You can run, jump, do cartwheels, flips. Even something as simple as sitting down.” He drops into a cross-legged seated position, rests his hands on his knees, closes his eyes, and hums. “I’ve seen monks meditate on the way to their temple in the morning. Sitting is only permitted in the purple lane though. This would cost us a hundred credits if I were caught by someone in my own organization.”

I’m tempted to sit down next to him but I already cost him enough on my own.

I look up and A-16 flies by. I don’t want to miss our stop. Rin stands up, refreshed and ready to run again. His enthusiasm is contagious, and I smile at him.

“Has anyone ever been caught having sex on the butsu?”

He throws back his head and laughs. “At least once a month.”

“Thrilling. Ever done it yourself?”

“No. But there’s a first time for everything.” He raises his eyebrows at me, and I turn away. That’s too suggestive. “Let’s move to the purple. We need to get off soon.”

“That’s what she said,” I mumble under my breath, but by the look in Rin’s eyes, I know he heard me.

Slowing down on the butsu is easy. I move left until I hit the divider, and it slows me down over the course of a meter. A-18 looms up and the exit point is indicated with an arrow projection at eye level. Once I step into the exit point, I’m slowed even further, and I can just step off.

Kazuo is waiting, his arms crossed and watching those coming and going.

“This is amazing technology,” he says, walking up to us. Now that I’m no longer moving, I massage my scalp before finger-brushing my hair into a semblance of order. The migraine train is leaving the station.

“This way,” Rin says, directing us down the street I recognize from the day before. We’re only two blocks from where the little boy made fun of me for not knowing what the butsu was.

“The butsu feels like magic. How did they come up with it?” I follow at Rin’s side. My eyes are glued to the surrounding shops, all selling the usual conveniences, food, drinks, clothes. I always wondered if humanity would evolve past this idea of shopping in an arcade, but it’s a part of our DNA, to be social while purchasing goods.

“Didn’t I already tell you that there are no new ideas? The butsu is an old idea from Earth. Again, science fiction. But like I said, I have no idea how it works. If you want to know the specifics, there are scientific papers you can access on your tablet that’ll tell you the basics. But the design is patented and owned by Shiroi Nami. It’s one of the few reasons their corporation even has a name anymore.”

“I’ll have to ask them myself someday.”

Rin glances sideways at me.

“So, where are we going? I’m starving,” Kazuo asks, interrupting our awkward conversation. We went from playful and happy to all business, and even that whiplash bothers me.

“We’re going to visit my future employers,” I say, skipping along and leaving the men behind. They’ll catch up, eventually.