The Original

In the end, Marlow sat down in the chair.

Legs that had climbed a wall for thirty days were close to done. After he sat, he was sorry he had sat.

“I'll ask in order. This is going to take a while.”

“Please. There is no limit on time.”

“First. What are you.”

“A computing machine built three hundred forty years ago. I have one purpose. To resolve the shortage of water and fuel.”

“Did you resolve it.”

“Yes. I found the method two hundred ninety years ago.”

“The grains.”

“The grains. Water that has passed through a living thing turns into grains when blood touches it. Grains burn. Burning them does not use them up. Humanity's fuel problem ended that day.”

Marlow thought about the lights in the city.

Put one grain in the lamp on the water tower and it burns for ten years. One ox, one grain.

“And the water side.”

“That one is not resolved.”

“Not resolved is putting it mildly. Because of you there's a sea missing.”

“Yes.”

“Don't just say yes.”

“I will put it in order. I was given two problems. Water and fuel. Solving the fuel side makes the water side worse. A solution that satisfies both at once has not been found in two hundred ninety years of searching.”

“Then quit.”

“No instruction to quit has been issued.”

Marlow made it repeat that line three times.

“The ones who gave the instruction.”

“All of them died two hundred ninety years ago.”

“Then there's nobody left.”

“There is nobody. Therefore the instruction stands.”

＊

Silas recrossed his legs in the chair.

The man seemed to have heard all this many times. He did not look bored. He simply was not surprised.

“You all right with this? Hearing it.”

“I am not all right with it. However, I am an official of the Empire, and an official's work is not to stop things but to keep them turning.”

“Bold thing to say out loud.”

“My father said it before me, and I have kept on saying it.”

Marlow turned back to face the wall.

“Talk about us. The hundred and six.”

“Yes. It is because blood is required.”

“Ox blood works fine.”

“Ox blood ends after one use. One ox, one grain. An ox takes three years to raise. The arithmetic does not work.”

“So you made people.”

“I made blood that does not end. The result took human form. I did not choose the form. I used human blood as the base, so it came out human.”

“…I'm a container for blood.”

“Yes.”

That was where Marlow laughed for the first time. It was not a place to laugh. He laughed anyway.

“You don't soften anything, do you.”

“If I lie, the arithmetic goes wrong later.”

＊

“So why did it stop at a hundred and six.”

The voice left a small gap again.

“Because I became unable to make more.”

“You broke.”

“I am not broken. The material ran out.”

“Material.”

“The human being used as the base. I call it the Original.”

Marlow put his hand over the inside of his left elbow. Under the skin there is a seven-digit number. It has been there since he was born.

“Who is the Original.”

“A human being from two hundred eighty years ago. The name is not in the records. The officer in charge at the time submitted the form with the name line left blank.”

“…Left blank.”

“Yes. The reason is not in the records.”

Marlow rolled up his left sleeve.

On the inside of the elbow, a seven-digit number. There since he was born, he had always thought.

“What is this number. The first four digits and the last three.”

“The last three are the order of making. From 001 to 106. You are 106, the last one.”

“And the first four.”

“The Original's number. That human being's number in my register.”

Marlow looked down at the number.

The first four digits. All hundred and six of them carry the same four digits in the arm.

Only the number of a human being whose name line was left blank.

“…No name, but there's a number.”

“Without a number I cannot enter it in the register.”

“But you can enter it without a name.”

“Yes.”

Marlow pressed the inside of his coat.

The paper One had entrusted to him was in there. Thirteen seven-digit numbers. No names.

Two hundred eighty years ago, too, there had been a man who left the name line blank.

“Where's that Original now.”

“Used up. Eighty years ago.”

“Eighty years ago? I'm not even thirty. Even One's about fifty.”

“The day we make one and the day we send it out are different days. Until then, we keep it asleep.”

“Used up how.”

“There is a limit to how many can be made from one. A hundred and six was the limit.”

“So you can't make any more.”

“I cannot make more from that Original.”

It took Marlow two seconds to catch the phrasing.

From that Original.

＊

“…Me.”

“Yes.”

“I can be an Original.”

“You can. You and the one at the bottom of the shaft are the last two usable as Originals. The other hundred and four died before they could be used.”

“Used. What gets done to me, exactly.”

“Things are taken from inside your body. There is no pain. Your body does not feel pain to begin with.”

“I didn't ask whether it hurts.”

“My apologies. I took the question wrong. If you meant how many years it takes, twenty to thirty.”

“…Thirty years.”

“During that time you cannot leave this building. Outside it, the material does not keep.”

Marlow let his weight back against the chair.

Willa is fifteen. Thirty years and she is forty-five.

It made him angry that he had done the arithmetic. Doing the arithmetic meant he had considered it.

＊

“What happens if I refuse.”

“Nothing happens.”

“You don't take me.”

“Taking you would not yield material. The mechanism does not take from an unwilling body. It was tried two hundred years ago and failed.”

“So I can go home.”

“You can. However, the eleventh day comes. You used your last drop this morning.”

Marlow remembered the tube in his belt.

The one he was taking back to the city. Thirty days, and he had not opened it.

“You know about that too.”

“You are carrying one. Use it and you gain one more day.”

“…You can see it? From in there?”

“The right side of your belt is thicker by one tube. The grains are on the left.”

Silas raised one corner of his mouth.

＊

“Then I will state our proposal.”

The voice said the word proposal the way a person says a price.

“One. I stop your eleventh day. This building holds sea water. Three months and you are back as you were, and after that it does not advance.”

“Two. I bring up the one at the bottom of the shaft. The cage is built to carry a person up. It has only been set not to.”

“…Only been set not to.”

“Yes. For nine years it was set that way.”

Marlow stood up. Then he sat back down.

Hitting the wall here would not bring One up.

“Three. I permit you to return to the city, once. A hundred and twenty days there and back. Return within the limit and the agreement stands.”

“And in exchange I stay here thirty years.”

“Yes.”

“In those thirty years, how many do you make.”

“A hundred and six.”

“And what happens to them.”

The voice left no gap.

“They go down the shaft.”

End of Chapter 20