Foreword:
Twenty-five years later, one of the greatest mysteries of 9/13/99 remains: What happened to Japan? The tsunamis and earthquakes that immediately followed the disappearance of the Moon were horrific, of course; the death toll was in the millions and the property damage beyond the scope of human comprehension. But the islands of the Japanese archipelago are no strangers to catastrophe, as their long and troubled relationship with the Nankai Trough subduction zone attests, and this disaster was oddly selective. Somehow it was as if an entire generation of Japan’s best and brightest scientific minds fell victim to either earthquakes, tsunamis, or famine, and all within a matter of weeks.
The definitive answer to this mystery must remain elusive, as Japan has been under “protective” Chinese military government since 2004 and is largely off-limits to Westerners. However, researchers conducting forensic explorations of what survives of the IIJ backbone network have turned up multiple copies of the following fragmentary manuscript, ostensibly written by a person identified only as “Made in DNA.”
Some historians say this tale is mere fantasy, and there is no evidence that such a thing as the Serene Fuji Project ever existed. Others insist this story is true, and is presented as fiction only in order to obscure the actual location of the arcology.
Whatever the truth may be, herewith we provide what most scholars agree is the most complete and accurate translation of the original text.
“Yasu, as a vital scientist of the International Lunar Commission team, I can get you and your family visas.”
The man on the visicreen insisted, the worry in his voice apparent. It was tempting. Things would be so much easier.
“That is very kind of you, Thomas, but I am needed here as well. If there is to be any future for Japan, I must stay.” Yasuyuki Etsugawa hoped his friend and colleague did not hear the anxiety in his voice.
Another strong temblor hit, as if to admonish the scientist for his brazen statement. Yasu gripped the edge of the workstation into which the visicreen was embedded. In another room of their assigned apartment, his young son cried out in fear for his mother. She rushed to calm him.
“Are you okay over there?” Thomas’s face enlarged as the man pressed toward his screen, and then said, “I’m sorry.” A look of guilt on the man’s face brought guilt to Yasu’s gut. “We should have acted faster!”
“This situation is too much for any one country to handle. There isn’t a nation not struggling against natural disaster. Earthquakes have devastated the US, France, Yugoslavia and countless other countries. No one could have known the waters here would rise so fast.”
Not even Japan’s best seismologists could have predicted what the Moon’s sudden and horrifying departure would do to the archipelago. Thus far it had triggered megathrust earthquakes all throughout the Nankai Trough region. The Tōkai, Tōnankai, and Nankaidō zones were having convulsions; the Taiheiyō Belt was nearly obliterated. It was as if the four tectonic plates that underlay Japan had cracked, ripping the nation into a dozen smaller unstable island-plates that were pressed upon each other, scramble-grabbing for any way up or out; forcing each other down into the depths as bodies of water on either side greedily filled the gaps. Mount Fuji itself was sinking, along with most of the Kantō Region, the Okhotsk and Philippine Sea Plates seemingly willing to commit deicide to save themselves.
Looking out the window, Yasu knew that the survivors of the initial catastrophes were racing to secure themselves in the mountains. Too many of them would not make it. Too many of those who did would run out of food and water within weeks. The nation had already lost half its population in a matter of days.
It might be every soul in Japan, if not for the Serene Fuji Project. Started two decades ago as method of combating future energy crises, it was perfectly poised to stabilize the nation in the coming centuries. With the volcano transformed into a powerful, immortal energy source, Yasu’s family and a million others would live safely in the bosom of the protector mountain.
“Yasu…”
“Yes, my friend?”
“Will we hear from you again?”
“There is always a possibility.” He lied. It was for the best.
“Maybe after everything calms down.” There was a hint of childish hope in Thomas’s voice that was out of character. Yasu understood the other man’s feelings and were grateful for them. It was good to have friends like this. Friends you could remember and who would remember you.
Another strong temblor hit. They were a constant now. Almost clockwork; ticking away the last moments of their old lives.
“That would be nice.” That was not a lie.
“Attention, citizens.” The public broadcast system integrated into all the apartment units came to life, its echo clear across the other unit around them.
Yasu’s wife came in with their small son in her arms. Her face said everything she would not, out of respect for his time with his friend.
Yasu nodded to her.
“Sorry, Thomas, I’m afraid it’s time. Goodbye, friend.” Yasu bowed with the utmost respect to the visicreen, before a last look out the window at the rising waters as they roiled menacingly up toward Mount Fuji.
The broadcast system continued. “All final phase scientific residential units will now be moved to their assigned community positions within the facility. Please secure all members of your families now.”
Yasu, his wife, and son, were all buckled in as their unit rose up the side of the mountain, disappearing over the lip into the open maw of the technological wonder that would become their home for generations. In truth, Yasu wondered just how this would work out, and if it would not become prison or grave. Would they truly be able to ride out the coming centuries within the interior of the sealed Serene Fuji Arcology, while the Earth lamented the loss of its mistress?
For his son and the sake of future generations, he and all the others were willing to try.
Afterword:
Years later, “Fathom” remains a tantalizing curiosity. Is there a germ of truth in the story of the Serene Fuji Arcology, or is this just the daydream of some poor soul who didn’t make it through the catastrophe? Already in some of the more relaxed “New Age” circles the Serene Fuji Arcology has taken on an almost mythic status, comparable to Atlantis, Lemuria, or the Lost Continent of Mu. Could the pre-catastrophe Japanese actually have built such a place? There are approximately fourteen thousand islands in the Japanese archipelago, stretched out over nearly two thousand nautical miles. While the recurring discovery of apparently abandoned or unfinished megastructures on various remote islands in the chain does not prove the existence of the Serene Fuji Arcology, neither does it rule out the possibility that it might be real.
One can’t help but wonder, though. If those million missing best-and-brightest Japanese scientists are sealed up in an arcology somewhere, hiding away from the rest of the world and riding out the centuries: what are they doing in there?
Most scholars agree: it probably involves giant robots. And genetically engineered cats.
Made in DNA: Samuraipunk author, cheap thrill seeker, pizza lover, US immigrant to Japan. To learn more, visit https://campsite.bio/madeindna
If you enjoyed this story, be sure to check out “The Shrine Keeper,” elsewhere on this web site.
If you really enjoyed this story, look for “Something CUTE This Way Comes,” in Stupefying Stories 26.
Well done, sir. Intriguing ending.
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly. Really enjoyed writing it.
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