“You’re looking for a professor?”
“Yep.”
“Give it up,” said the man without even blinking. “There are as many people in the world with the title of professor as there are stars in the sky. Japan is full of professors. Try it—shout out ‘Professor!’ right now. Four out of every five of the scholars in this room will turn around. They’re all professors with their own particular field of research. There are thousands of them here—experts in speed-reading to stenography. There are always brand-new professors turning up in all sorts of fields—rhetoric, syntax, style, phonology; studying character fonts, paper quality—you name it, this place is overflowing with them. Here, you’d have a lot more luck finding someone who isn’t a professor.”
The cat looked disappointed at the man’s response, and the latter took advantage of the moment of silence to bid them goodbye and be on his way.
“Hey!” the cat called after him, but he was already disappearing into one of the passageways behind a pillar. Rintaro and Sayo just stared blankly after him.
“What the hell was that?”
The cat ignored Rintaro and set off again along the giant walkway, stopping the next man to cross its path. He was a different age and build to the previous one, but had the same bloodless complexion and was carrying a similar pile of books.
“What is it? I’m really busy.”
“We’re looking for someone.”
“You’d better not,” the man shot back. “This is a vast research facility, full of people who look alike, think alike, and are all likewise busy. Of course, everyone is eager to assert their own uniqueness, but since everyone is equally obsessed with asserting it, then there’s nothing unique about anyone. It turns out it’s impossible to distinguish between us. In a place like this, trying to find a particular ‘someone’ is not only difficult, it’s meaningless. Goodbye.”
And with that, he was gone.
Next the cat spoke to a relatively young woman, but her washed-out complexion and mystifying reply was just like those of the previous two men.
Right as they were looking around for a fourth person to ask, Sayo collided with a young man. He lost his grip on his pile of books and they spilled to the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, bowing. The man threw her a look of contempt and quickly began to gather up his books. Rintaro began to help him, but suddenly came to a halt, a book in his hand.
Recommendations for a Whole New Way of Reading.
Whatever way he looked at it, it was a poor title for a book.
“Where is the person who wrote this book?” he asked.
The man raised an eyebrow and stared at Rintaro.
“We’re looking for the man who wrote this book,” Rintaro repeated.
“If you’re looking for the director, go down those stairs to the Director’s Office. You’ll find him there.”
His arms full of books once more, he flicked his chin in the direction of one of the pillars to the right of the room. Behind it was a tiny set of stairs leading downward.
“The director’s so devoted to his research that he locks himself down there in his office and rarely comes up to ground level. If you go down there, you’re bound to meet him.”
Somehow, his reply managed to be pompous without showing the slightest emotion.
“Thank you,” said Rintaro, bowing. But by the time he’d lifted his head, the man had already disappeared up a staircase on the opposite side of the hall.
*
They set off down the staircase but soon realized it didn’t have an end.