Linking ChapterThe Researcher Speaks of Love
A conversation with Mr. Salomé Carpenter, head of Rhythm, a research institute under the direct control of Huey Laforet
I must say, the outcome of this matter was truly unfortunate.
A trivial miscommunication led to the loss of an important research subject.
Even though it was less than a decade since our observations began… What a terrible shame.
It was No. 0038: the research subject we named Rail for the sake of convenience.
I wonder if the four-digit numbers imply that Huey intends to create at least a thousand of these guinea pigs. I am a mere human, mind you, and it isn’t likely that I will live long enough to see the results, in any case… Well, to an individual who has eternity, even four digits may seem few.
I would like to say that I’ve strayed from the topic, but I haven’t, actually.
Yes, the number of research subjects with which I will be able to engage during my lifetime is a mere fraction, one small part of the whole.
That is why— That is precisely why—
I feel I have watched over the results of each individual subject with scrupulous care. Losing No. 0038—Rail—like this is unbelievably sad.
At present, we have created up to No. 0068, but not even half have managed to exist for a sustained length of time. Having created and processed them ourselves does make that fact painful.
Rail had been processed in a rather special way. Mind you, it was partially coincidence.
Are you acquainted with the term analgesia?
It is a congenital disorder in which the entire body is insensitive to pain. The sensation in Rail’s skin isn’t truly the same thing…but it is quite similar. Every subject whose brain we tampered with ended up ruined, you see. Instead, we tinkered with the ganglia throughout his body, which are connected to the brain, and this was the half-accidental result.
…My conjecture, although it’s rather a leap, is this: His brain, which was generated as a homunculus’s, may have evolved to refuse to transmit pain, in the same way a fuse will blow under excessive voltage.
That’s right. That’s why, initially, we cut into Rail’s body without using anesthetic.
We did it little by little, in order to determine how much pain he and the other homunculi were able to endure.
I believe he experienced more physical agony than most humans experience over their entire lives—diverse and concentrated over a very short time. I heard there is a marvelous torture expert in New York who uses scissors in his work, and I would very much like to hear his opinion on the subject. Rail suffered such a level of pain.
However, it was… What was it, about five years ago? Rail’s sense of pain may have begun to disappear when Huey and I cut into him. Ah yes, that’s definitely it. That was when Rail stopped screaming. Intriguingly, as he stopped feeling pain, he seemed to have become convinced that he was a “thing.”
As far as we can tell, Rail is under the impression that we administered an anesthetic partway through. He seemed mystified by the fact that his sensation didn’t return.
Well, it sounds as though the sensation did gradually return that time. However, we repeated the process over and over, and in the end, his sense of pain faded away.
Yes, that’s right. That’s how it was. We cut Rail up again and again. You could say the suture scars that run all over his body are the proof of all our research.
For that very reason, it will be distressing if he doesn’t delight in his immunity to pain.
Naturally, it is inconvenient as well. Pain is an important signal that alerts the body to danger.
I had hoped to research his growth in the future, along with so many other things. What a terrible shame it turned out this way.
I know of one other similar case.
Rather than the sense of pain, what was damaged was what one might call emotions.
The individual is a man named Elmer C. Albatross, Huey’s old friend.
When he was young, unimaginable suffering was inflicted on him constantly, and as a result, I’m told he is no longer able to tell whether he is happy or unhappy. Perhaps his emotional circuits were warped. Now that he is an immortal, they say he lives to make the entire world happy.
To an ordinary person, that is the ideal; to a lunatic, it is probably the truth.
I felt this Elmer fellow would be worth observing, but Huey stopped me.
He wouldn’t allow such a dear friend as Elmer to be treated as a guinea pig. Well, his phrasing wasn’t so sentimental, but that is the general gist of what he said. This from a man who sees everything in the world, even his own daughters, as test subjects… Coming from him, it sounded strange, but apparently to Huey, Elmer is the chain that keeps him connected to the world.
…Ah, my apologies. This time, I really did stray off topic.
Be that as it may, while Rail’s history is similar to Elmer’s, the younger chose to live in the exact opposite way. He decided to hate most of the world, including us… Or possibly he despised it.
He also displayed an obvious fear of our lab coats.
It was rather comical to see a child who despised us grow frightened at the sight of us.
To Rail, we were probably an intolerable trauma. The pain must have been difficult to understand. That said, there’s no way to verify it now.
…Hmm? What is it?
How could we do something so cruel to a young boy?
Yes, you’re right. It really was cruel.
Even if we saw that, not as a human, but merely as a test subject, no different from a guinea pig…
Unforgivable. I do think it’s an act that must not be forgiven, yes.
Every time Rail’s screams rang in our ears, our hearts ached with terrible guilt and regret, doubts and misgivings about the fact that we were still alive… All sorts of things welled up and lodged in our throats.
However, we were able to endure that suffering and sorrow.
Why?
I should think that’s obvious.
Because we loved him!
We were able to withstand the guilt because of our love—our boundless guilt at having done something so horrible to Rail and the others.
We were able to overcome the awareness of our sin, which bound us, because we loved our test subjects! Our love enables us to do even the cruelest things!
Come to think of it, I saw something in the notes left by the technician before me. Apparently, there was an immortal who said the same things I’ve just said: Because he loved someone, he was able to endure the pain of abusing him.
I wonder who it was. I hear he’s already been eaten…by the boy immortal who was the object of his love, you see. I think it was…Fermet. The boy’s name was Czeslaw… I believe that’s correct.
Ah, my apologies. I seem to have gone off topic again. As a matter of fact, even if Rail had eaten or otherwise killed me, I think I would have accepted everything. I presume that is what love is.
To him, we are his creators. His god.
I am neither an atheist nor a deist. I believe in the existence of God.
And it is because of that belief that I am able to recognize that, to the homunculi, we are divine.
God’s love is infinite. My love for Rail is the same.
For that very reason, our tears know no end.
A creature we continually showered with love has vanished from this world so suddenly, far too suddenly.
…You wish to hear the details of how he was lost?
Are you telling me to tell you everything, remember everything? Do you beckon me once more to the depths of sorrow?
That’s the trouble with information brokers!
Still, very well. I’ll tell you.
After all, there may be some meaning in reintegrating the results we observed and the information we later acquired by relating them.
If we consolidate the information received from Sham and Hilton, it appears that the main cause was a certain couple…and the delinquent mob accompanying them.
Of course, that unhinged woman from the research department at Nebula, Christopher, and that Graham fellow—a surviving member of the Russo Family—were more than a little involved. Strictly speaking, the same is true of a man named Firo Prochainezo, who was in prison at the time of the incident.
Now then, where shall I begin…? Well, this is Rail’s story, after all, so let me begin with him.
After his friend Frank was taken from him, our abject guinea pig began a gradual slide into madness.
It happened little by little, but steadily.
By the time he set off for the dark city in order to save Frank—or, to be accurate, to wreak his vengeance upon the people who had stolen Frank—his heart may already have been half-broken.
Such was the desperation behind Rail’s actions.
…No. It wasn’t just himself that he was attempting to get rid of. It was as if he was trying to discard everything in the world.
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