Pathway to Japanese Literature

Eyes snapped open.

Clank, clank, groaned.

The 40th-floor express elevator had ascended.

Someone’s here...

Still half-dreaming, I felt it.
Ah—the wretchedness of professional dedication.

For four or five days now, I’d worked relentlessly from midnight till dawn until my body hung limp as cotton.
Yet I couldn’t achieve half the deep sleep I craved—my nerves kept honing themselves sharper.

The absurdity pierced through me—there I lay on my bed holding breath for this elevator passenger whose destination remained unknown.

The moment an electric shock-like stimulus surged through his body—Butler Yaguchi was calling.
So this must be the long-awaited guest.
As soon as he nimbly leaped down from the bed, he immediately rushed into the dressing room to his left.

——Two minutes.

I clad myself in a morning coat and emerged composedly.
Placing my left hand on my hip and hunching my back, I twisted the key in the entrance door with a click,

“All right, Yaguchi,”

I rasped in a hoarse voice.

The door swished open, and Yaguchi entered carrying the morning’s newspaper and a tray bearing a single business card.
Without a moment’s delay, I snatched up the business card.

“Hmm——Sōra Jūkichi. You’re alone, I presume?”
“You’re alone, I presume?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I shall show you in.”

Under Yaguchi’s guidance, the figure of Sōra Jūkichi appeared at the entrance.
At first glance, he was a terribly emaciated gentleman whose broad forehead particularly caught the eye.
Deep wrinkles like gouges ran parallel across his forehead in countless lines, and his hair was pure white—just like mine.
And yet, judging from his piercing gaze and the vigor in his voice, he seemed to be barely fifty—if that.

“Would you be Detective Kurido?”

“I am Kurido Rikyū. Now, please have a seat there.”

“Detective, you…”

He let the rest fade in his mouth and audibly gulped down his saliva.
The barely restrained passion, on the verge of tears, could be read from his convulsing lips.

“I heard you visited yesterday as well, but unfortunately I was unavailable and must apologize for my discourtesy… Now then, shall I hear what brings you here?”

I lightly stroked my cheek beard and promptly began to speak.

“I had heard of your reputation, Detective—that regarding cases entrusted to you, you uncover conclusions with remarkable speed and clarity. Delighted by this, I came here eagerly, and yet…”

“So—the point you wish to ascertain is…”

“Yes. Th-that is… it concerns an event from twenty years ago—I believe you remember it well—the Matsukaze-gō that departed Tokyo for an attempted non-stop global flight and vanished without a trace. I wish to ascertain its final fate.”

“What? The Matsukaze-gō’s final fate?” I widened my eyes in feigned surprise before Sōra Jūkichi. “That aircraft took a western course from Tokyo—there were sightings as far as Indochina before all contact ceased, or so they claimed.”
“Massive search parties mobilized by newspaper consortiums scoured Mongolia, Xinjiang, Tibet, India—even the Arctic—for nearly eighteen months. Not a trace found, according to reports.”
“They deployed ultraviolet photographic equipment across every ocean quadrant imaginable—on the off-chance it had plunged into the sea. All efforts proved equally fruitless, as the records show.”

“Oh, you remembered it well, Detective.”
“In truth—since I too am someone connected to that incident—I threw myself into the investigation, but…”

“That’s right.”
“Mr. Sōra, you were one of the Matsukaze-gō’s designers, weren’t you?”

“Oh! You knew all along?”
“And how I exhausted every means to search for it!”
“I myself organized an expedition and went to search from the Indian border all the way to the Gobi Desert.”
“The results yielded nothing.”
“Its whereabouts remain utterly unknown.”
“If even after searching this thoroughly we couldn’t find it, then perhaps the Matsukaze-gō had exploded midair into a ball of flames and scattered—I found myself entertaining even such implausible possibilities.”

“I see.”

“But recently I made a terrifying discovery—concerning one of the two people who boarded that Matsukaze-gō and departed...”

At this, Sōra Jūkichi shuddered violently—as if recalling something—and cast wary glances around before declaring, “I saw with my own eyes—one of them has returned to Tokyo!”

Having said that, Sōra Jūkichi raised his trembling hand and clawed at his hair.

“Isn’t that a case of mistaken identity?”

“No—how could this be a case of mistaken identity? Even if that were his ghost, it would not be a case of mistaken identity.”

Sōra Jūkichi, as if he could no longer maintain his composure, began speaking rapidly with panting breath.

According to his account, he was still employed at the aircraft manufacturing company in Etechūjima, but now held the position of chief engineer.

That was about seven days ago now.
That day, as his discussion with the executives had dragged on, it was already dim when he left through the company gate.
As his house was in Tsukishima, he would always pass through the desolate narrow path in Etechūjima.
There, due to the failed land reclamation of Etechūjima, beyond the Aeronautical Research Institute and Merchant Marine School that stood along the way lay no houses at all—only an eerie marshland stretching in every direction, where cattails as tall as a person grew thickly.

He had come halfway along the marshland when—
Suddenly, from the right side of the marsh emerged a jet-black figure dripping water across its entire body, crawling forth like a frog.
Whether noticing Sōra's paling face and frantic backward leap or not, this eerie being rose up in the path's center—staggering unsteadily—then abruptly swung its lowered face toward him.
Ah, that face!

A narrow forehead, thick lips, and a square-jawed chin.
And diagonally from below the ear to the chin, he saw a scar about two inches long in vivid detail.
Oh—Matsuida Shirōtarō! The engineer who had been aboard the Matsukaze-gō!
Engineer Matsuida—who should have died somewhere twenty years ago.
Sōra Jūkichi covered his eyes and collapsed to the ground.

When he raised his face again, Matsuida’s figure was nowhere to be seen.
He wondered if that had been a ghost, but its entire body was drenched with water, serving as evidence that it had crawled up from the marshland.
He heard the rustling of cattail spikes rubbing together and suddenly became terrified, dashing off in a frenzy.

That day ended there, but the next day, Matsuida appeared again from behind a utility pole on this narrow path. This time, unexpectedly, he did not vanish but instead began shambling toward him, so he mustered all his courage and—

“Mr. Matsuida! Hey, isn’t that you, Mr. Matsuida?”

he called out, but the mysterious figure, without uttering a word, passed by Sōra Jūkichi’s side and staggered unsteadily off toward the seashore.

The next day, after night had fallen, he suddenly emerged from the base of a small bridge on his way back from the public bathhouse to his home in Tsukishima.

Sōra Jūkichi thought.
Matsuida must have lost his mind.
Yet his behavior was far too calm—all he did was barge into view before his eyes and unsettle him…

Then from the day after that, he began appearing around Sōra Jūkichi’s house.
As it was finally getting too unsettling, he asked his wife if she had seen such a person, but she replied that she hadn’t.
The housemaid and daughter Mayumiko also said they didn’t know.
It seemed that only Sōra himself could see Matsuida.

Last night, he peered in from behind the bedroom curtain.
The repulsive scar on the cheek seemed to be deliberately displayed.

By this time, Sōra Jūkichi could not help but feel his life was being threatened by Matsuida.
Could it be that the dagger concealed in his pocket already bore the blood of Kazama Masato, pilot of the Matsukaze-gō?

If Matsuida was alive, what had become of the Matsukaze-gō? Was Pilot Kazama still living? Kazama and I had been particularly close friends. When the Matsukaze-gō disappeared, I'd scoured every corner of that region in my search. "Even if Matsuida has lost his mind," Sōra proclaimed, "I must at least discover some clue to Kazama Masato's fate."

I asked.

“Then why don’t you grab his arm and bring him to your house?”

“He has brute strength.
Even if I could touch his arm, it’s like brushing against a factory belt—I get thrown back every time with unbearable force.”

“Why not involve the authorities?”

“I’ve considered that too.
But Detective...
Once word gets out that someone from that famous incident has resurfaced after twenty years, poor Matsuida would be mobbed by police and reporters. Who knows how much further his mind might unravel.”
“It would be tragic to lose this chance of uncovering the Matsukaze-gō’s fate.”
“If we first gather all possible facts ourselves and wait for Matsuida’s recovery, there’d still be time for you to reveal the truth, Detective.”

“That’s quite reasonable.”
“By the way, how is Mr. Kazama’s bereaved family managing these days?”

During this exchange, Sōra Jūkichi’s expression appeared to darken abruptly.

“Actually, that’s another matter causing me difficulty.”
“You may already know this, but since that incident I’ve taken in Kazama’s widow—Sumako—and cared for her.”
“She’s now legally my wife, and we have a twenty-year-old daughter named Mayumi.”

“I see. If Mr. Kazama were alive, that would create considerable complications indeed.”

“Regarding that matter, I have already made up my mind. But is Kazama alive? I have not told Sumako anything yet.”

“Let’s investigate thoroughly.—Then there’s one more thing I’d like to ask.”
“Which part of the Matsukaze-gō did you design?”
“The propeller.”
Jūkichi blurted out.

“The propeller’s tests were praised as being in peak condition.”
“That design took an entire year.”

“And your current work?”

“Currently, I am supervising the assembly of a commissioned item at the Aeronautical Research Institute.”
“I cannot disclose exactly what it is, but it is indeed an aircraft.”

What I had wanted to ask was finished.
Sōra handed me a scrapbook of clippings about the Matsukaze-gō’s disappearance, saying it might be of some reference, but I retrieved a reference book on the Matsukaze-gō incident—three times as large—from the depths of my bookshelf and declined his offer.
Sōra made a briefly unpleasant face.

“Then when may I expect your reply?”

“By tomorrow night.”

Ignoring the astonished Sōra, I stated flatly.

"I will call you on the day, so please ensure you do not go out anywhere."

As Sōra exited the room with a worried expression, the butler Yaguchi appeared in the doorway, passing him by.

“There is a call from Mr. Negachi.”

I dashed into the telephone room.
On the videophone screen was the face of his subordinate Negachi, weary from waiting.
We settled our discussion through lip-reading.

“The carriage...”
“Yaguchi.”

I had always enjoyed advancing my deductions while being rocked by this antiquated carriage.

“To the Central Astronomical Observatory.”

I cheerfully commanded.
It took a full two hours from here to reach the Central Astronomical Observatory.

The next day was when I had promised to report to Sōra Jūkichi.
That morning, I awoke at ten o’clock as usual and received a few visitors.
After noon passed, I entered the laboratory and continued desk work until evening.

At that moment, Negachi from the Central Astronomical Observatory entered carrying an astronomical photograph.
I didn't like the photograph.
This time, after summoning Sōra Jūkichi via videophone, I instructed him to wait for my automobile around six o'clock in Shinjuku's crossroads district.
His complexion had worsened since the previous day.
Yet those bloodshot eyes—now seemingly even larger—snapped wide open as he stared fixedly at me.
He seemed to be trying to discern something from my expression.

Before long, Negachi and I were in a car descending Mejiro slope and heading toward Waseda.
As we entered the dim thicket of Yamabuki no Sato Park, an unexpected boom of gunfire erupted, shattering the window glass into smithereens.
I groaned and clutched my left arm.
Instantly, the car veered sharply right with its headlights.
A figure materialized in the headlight beams.
Contrary to expectations of flight, he nimbly seized the driver’s seat.
Negachi flung open the side door and leaned out, yet the assailant kept firing two or three more shots.
To the driver trying to speed up despite the chaos—

“Stop!”

I commanded.
But the vehicle still advanced about half a block.
When I stepped outside the vehicle, I recognized what appeared to be Negachi and the assailant engaged in a violent struggle behind us.
While rushing to assist, one of them collapsed. Before I could process the thought, a large body came crashing from the front, and I nearly had my chest crushed.
Enemy!

Unfortunately, the driver who had come running out from behind me was struck down in a single blow.
The assailant was quite formidable.
My left arm throbbed with pain as if being torn off.
It was an emergency; nimbly evading the assailant’s arm for the second time, on the third attempt, I sank low and thrust upward into his flank.
"Ugh—" A terrifying groan sounded as a large body thudded heavily to the ground before my eyes.

Finally having gotten up, Negachi and the driver bound the assailant in tight coils with some awkwardness.

“Are you injured, Mr. Kurido?”
“And who the hell is this guy?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.”
“In any case, the appointed time has come.”
“Driver!”
“You take him back to the office.”
“Negachi and I will hail a taxi once we’re out of the park...”
“You treat our guest with care!”

Having given those instructions and sent the car back, the two of us hurriedly dashed through the park.

“Mr. Kurido, isn’t that fellow the Matsuida you mentioned yesterday?”

“He’s too young to be Matsuida."
“He was still just a twenty-five or twenty-six-year-old kid.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Negachi seemed to be forcing a pained smile as he ran.

Negachi seemed to be forcing a pained smile as he ran.

"So he's Matsuida's henchman?"

"It's hard to say for sure."

We were luckily able to hail a taxi.

"Ah! Blood... Mr. Kurido!"

In the automobile, Negachi stared in shock at the blood gushing from my left arm.

By the time we reached Shinjuku, we had finished treating the wound and adjusted our clothes so that no bloodstains could be detected even at a cursory glance.
At the crossroads, when we brought Sōra Jūkichi into the car as promised, I ordered the driver to extinguish the lights and accelerate.
Ahead lay Karasuyama Central Astronomical Observatory; in the darkness, the luminous clock showed twenty minutes to seven.
Tonight was supposed to be graced by the bright fourteenth-night moon, but that would come only five minutes later.
And no sooner had we managed to catch intermittent glimpses of the moon's face for about thirty minutes than dense clouds were sure to shroud it once again, just as before.
Within the thirty minutes that the moon showed its face, I had to do my work.
The taxi driver had been desperately increasing speed ever since being shown the detective badge.

Sure enough, five minutes later, the moon appeared.
After ten more minutes, ahead at Karasuyama Astronomical Observatory, the round dome gleamed white under the moonlight.
Four sky-piercing radio equipment poles stood sharply defined before our eyes.

“Oh, this is the observatory!”

Sōra exclaimed in a low voice.
We remained silent.

As the car raced up the gentle slope before the observatory building, Negachi was first to alight onto the gravel square.
He had been pressed flush against the entrance when—with a subterranean rumble—the great iron door slowly parted left and right.
The three of us slipped inside like shadows.

“Just entering the observatory dome makes you feel like you’re losing your mind,” someone once said.
The ghastly aura that pressed upon those within the dome was a palpable reality known only to those who had stepped inside.
There loomed a terrifyingly high hemispherical ceiling.
Its walls were painted mouse-gray.
At the center of the circular dirt floor—spanning what must have been two hundred tatami mats—a bizarre prism-shaped telescope glared diagonally at a corner of the heavens.
When someone turned the handle at its side, a clattering sound rang out as the spherical ceiling slowly split open to both sides, moonlight stabbing through like a wizard’s piercing gaze.
Turning another handle brought a deafening roar as the massive hemispherical ceiling gradually began to rotate.

“Mr. Kurido, there are only five minutes left.”

In the assault incident, we had wasted too much of our precious time.

“Well then—Mr. Sōra. I shall now deliver my report regarding your inquiry. Rather than verbal explanations, you would do better to follow Researcher Negachi’s directions. Now then, Negachi. Proceed according to protocol.”

Sōra Jūkichi was trembling uncontrollably all this time.
He shook his head desperately and stroked his chin, trying to regain his composure and boldness.

“Mr. Sōra, please look now.
This shows the lunar surface through the telescope with the lowest magnification.”

Sōra Jūkichi timidly stepped forward and peered into the small auxiliary telescope attached to the main body of the large instrument.

“Now this one next...
The magnification has been slightly increased.
You should see the Calremue Mountains appear somewhat larger.
If you observe this next one, they’ll become larger still.”

“Now then—the main telescope at last.”
“You should see Ulmunari Summit, the highest peak of the Calremue Mountains.”
“Only this Central Astronomical Observatory possesses a telescope with such magnifying power.”
“Even Wilson Observatory’s largest instrument achieves but one-thousandth of this scale.”

Sōra Jūkichi clung to the eyepiece like a man possessed.
Less than two minutes remained before lunar occultation.

“The adjustment handle here.”
“Twist it to shift focus gradually from lunar surface toward Earth.”
“Meteors should become visible.”
“We’ve closed two thousand kilometers.”
“Maintaining this progression rate.”
“Can you discern?”
“Stay vigilant now.”
“Watch the lower-left quadrant for emerging—”

A bloodcurdling scream—a soul-rending shriek—erupted.
The dome’s walls—like the chest of a corpse—swayed unsteadily, and a strange, resonant groan reverberated through them in response.
Without even time to brace himself, Sōra Jūkichi lost consciousness and collapsed backward with a thud.

I immediately pressed my eye to the lens, but regrettably, a mere few seconds too late—just as calculated beforehand, dense clouds surged in and completely sealed off the field of view.

“You finally saw it, did you?”

Negachi whispered in a low voice.

They picked up Sōra’s body, made him drink whiskey, and called his name.
After about five minutes, he faintly opened his eyes but was terribly listless.

“Matsuida!”

In a voice so low it was nearly inaudible, Sōra groaned like this.
I took out the deposition from my pocket and, choosing my words with deliberate firmness, read it aloud close to his ear.

“Matsuida had deceived the world.
Matsuida was indeed alive.
But there were unavoidable circumstances for that.
Pilot Kazama had suddenly ordered Matsuida to disembark from the circumnavigation aircraft for operational efficiency.
That incident occurred near Hiroshima.
It was pitch dark, without even a trace of moonlight.

Matsuida engaged in a dispute with Kazama for some time.
In terms of ensuring this flight’s success—both for achieving maximum efficiency through the steep ascent Kazama advocated and for restoring the aircraft’s balance—Matsuida had conceded that reducing passengers by one was highly advantageous.
Due to various prior circumstances, Matsuida’s boarding could not be refused at departure.
And so, he wanted him to disembark there.
Once they succeeded, he would later provide an explanation.
Even if they failed, wouldn’t it suffice for you to give an explanation after a fixed period?
A parachute had been prepared.
He told him to hurry and disembark.”

Matsuida had his own arguments and circumstances that made compliance difficult, but out of gratitude toward Kazama, friendship, and the pursuit of truth, he had no choice but to accept the request. After exchanging a final handshake there, he leaped down from the Matsukaze-gō. The parachute opened successfully. The place where he had descended after over an hour was the summit of a barren red mountain in Shimane Prefecture. He staved off hunger with a small amount of portable rations but could not endure the biting cold of the mountain heights. Having no choice, he tore the parachute into pieces bit by bit and used them as fuel.

Before long, Matsuida's figure stealthily appeared in Fumoto Village.
And before long, he also learned of the circumnavigation aircraft’s disappearance.
He should have come forward and identified himself, yet he showed no sign of doing so.
Matsuida had committed murder during his very early youth due to certain circumstances.
He knew that if he came forward now, everything about the Matsukaze-gō’s disappearance would be investigated suspiciously from start to finish.
He feared the exposure of his own past.
From then on, he had been wandering around Shimane Prefecture.
There was a reason he had come to Tokyo around this time.
“He had a single doubt……”

When I kept talking up to this point, Sōra suddenly let out a shrill scream.

“I’ve figured out the rest.”
“No—I’ve figured everything out.”
“If Matsuida appears around there... tell him.”
“You’re a colossal fool, Tona.”

Sōra continued to mutter under his breath.

When the car carrying three of us came to Shinjuku, I alone got off and ordered Negachi to deliver Sōra home.

On the pavements of Shinjuku’s streets—unsurprisingly given how profoundly night had fallen—not a single stroller remained visible.

It was the next morning.
As was my custom, I awoke at ten in the morning.
When I opened the window and looked out, the sky was unusually clear.
When I rang the bell, Yaguchi the butler and Negachi entered.

“Detective, what should we do about that young pup?”
“And your wound, Detective?”

Negachi asked.
I tried bending my left arm slightly but met with a stabbing pain like needles.

“After that incident last night, I had surgery performed, so there’s no need to worry anymore.”
“As for that young assistant, I’ll have him come here in another thirty minutes.”
“What happened to Mr. Sōra last night?”

“That man left for the company as usual this morning.”
“He had a pale face but was oddly energetic.”
“Based on last night’s state, I thought he might commit suicide, but given this morning’s condition, Sōra Jūkichi seems a bit off.”

“Did he have something in his hand?”

“He seemed to be carrying an unusual number of belongings lately.”
“In the handbag were two small packages.”

There, I fell silent.

When I abruptly looked up, Negachi wore an expression more grave than usual.
Then he suddenly called out to me.

“Detective. This time, I can’t grasp the content of the case at all.”
“Detective, you’ve had me stuck at the Central Astronomical Observatory for half a year now.”
“The key points of astronomical mechanics you taught me, Detective, I’ve managed to grasp relatively well, and neither the director nor the chief have found me suspicious.”
“When Mr. Sōra took center stage, I thought the case had finally reached its climax.”
“I am working hard to fulfill my duties at the observatory and comply with your orders, Detective.”
“It’s a rather peculiar way of explaining things, but this case just doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”
“Detective, is Mr. Sōra ultimately a villain, or a good man deserving of sympathy?”
“And yet, I still haven’t encountered Matsuida.”
“However, Detective, it seems you have Matsuida’s confession letter.”
“Detective, have you located Matsuida’s whereabouts?”

I said quietly with a smile.

“It’s a surprisingly simple case, Negachi. Putting everything else aside, asking that young assistant would likely be the most interesting approach. Now, bring him here.”

At that moment, Yaguchi announced that there was a visitor.
“Sōra Mayumiko.”

As Negachi left the room, Mayumiko entered in passing.

She was dressed entirely in white from her hat to her skirt. Only the coat's lapel was an eye-piercing purple velvet. Flushed cheeks, anxiously furrowed brows, and a seemingly resolute lower lip appeared before my eyes.

“Are you Mr. Kurido?”

She inclined her head slightly toward me.

“In that case, you must know Kawamata.”
“Please return him without uttering a word.”

I instantly comprehended her words, and so I asked.

"What is your relationship with Kawamata?"

"He is my father’s assistant and, for me, my future husband."

Hmm, I groaned inwardly.
I had investigated Sōra’s household but hadn’t considered the assistant.
I thought I was finally beginning to grasp the meaning of last night’s assault.
I stomped heavily toward a corner of the room and turned the door handle.

Suddenly and violently, last night’s young man leaped out into the room. Upon seeing Mayumiko, he abruptly ran up and physically shielded her far away from me.

“Miss, this man is a shameless impostor posing as a gentleman.”
“Detectives? Their true nature always remains dubious.”
“Two nights ago, he meddled with the safe entrusted to my care.”
“That’s not all.”
“The threats against our Detective undoubtedly originate from his machinations.”
“I’ve uncovered every detail.”
“If we allow this wretch to live…”

The youth named Kawamata edged closer to Mayumiko, his posture suggesting a silent demand.
Mayumiko’s face betrayed hesitation—whether she had surrendered the item or not hung unresolved.

At that moment, the entrance door they were both facing away from opened without a sound, and a pistol emerged.

“Both of you, put your hands up if you value your lives!”

It was Negachi’s voice.
Kawamata and Mayumiko resigned themselves and raised both hands high.
Negachi’s face was crimson when seen.
His eyes and lips were calling out to me through lip-reading.

When I responded to this, Negachi’s lips moved soundlessly at high speed—opening and closing, shifting left and right.

“Blast!”

At the major incident Negachi had described, I inadvertently let out a cry of surprise.

“You two. I regret to inform you, but please rest in that room for a while. In due time, I will send someone to retrieve you. Since we’re racing against time, I must apologize for resorting to such a rough method…”

Negachi promptly confined the two in the room where Kawamata had been.

Emergency!

The two of us went out onto the rooftop, opened the hangar door, and pulled out the airplane.
Our aircraft immediately began ascending at a steep angle.
Already, countless airplanes were flying in disarray across the sky.
Every last one of them was steering eastward as if by prior agreement.
The sun was blazing brilliantly in the midheaven.

“To the observatory!”

Our aircraft alone turned its nose southwest and flew.
The propeller emitted a horrific shriek.
Every time we passed other airplanes, they waved red flags to chastise our reckless speed.

“Detective, had you seen anything in the east?”

“No—can’t spot it.
What time did the spacecraft launch from Etsunajima?”

“According to Nakai’s stakeout call—11:33.”

“Eighteen minutes have already passed.—It’s true that Sōra boarded the spacecraft, right?”

“Since the special technician in charge of the spacecraft declared it, there shouldn’t be any mistake. Sōra alone was aboard conducting tests when, by some chance, it launched into the sky—or so they say. The technician says: ‘While Mr. Sōra was aboard, the machine malfunctioned and launched—or so he says.’”

“That’s irrelevant. Is the company in an uproar?”

“That’s apparently caused quite a stir.”
“After all, the construction of the spacecraft had been kept as the utmost secret—a truly colossal secret—until now.”
“The executives have turned pale and are still in discussions, but regarding the company’s construction policies and Chief Engineer Sōra’s painstaking design circumstances, they are reportedly drafting a statement to be released immediately.”

“I see.”
“Actually, last night I tried infiltrating the company too, but ultimately couldn’t get into that inner area.”
“I never realized it was a spacecraft until now.”

“Where does Mr. Sōra intend to go?”
“The company says it was to open a Martian route, but…”
“We won’t know until some time passes—it’s hard to say right now.—Negachi.”
“Today, you must never let go of that pistol!”

The two of them managed to stealthily sneak into the quiet observatory where nothing had yet occurred.
At the same time, he summoned Yaguchi from the office and ordered the full mobilization of his subordinates.
In just fifteen more minutes, this observatory would be completely occupied by my subordinates.

Negachi promptly clung to the world’s only astronomical telescope like a lizard and worked on adjustments.

Before long, my subordinates began gathering toward the observatory from both the national highway and the sky.
Among them was Yaguchi, who had escorted Mayumiko and Assistant Kawamata.
The observatory was effortlessly occupied, and all the observatory staff, though regrettably, were temporarily made to enter the basement.
He ordered Yaguchi to skillfully deceive any communications coming into the observatory from outside.
Mayumiko and Kawamata were made to enter the adjacent room.

“They’re inside, Detective.”

After about twenty minutes, it was Negachi who shouted.

I suppressed my racing heart and pressed my eye to the telescope’s eyepiece.
In the white circle about fifty centimeters in diameter floating before my eyes appeared a brownish cylinder.
Upon closer inspection, it was emitting faint gas from behind.
The evidence of its high-speed movement became evident through the gradual blurring of focus—O spacecraft!

“Eight thousand kilometers.”

Negachi shouted.

When I turned the handle and looked, clearly discernible on the spacecraft’s tail were the Hinomaru emblem and Sōra’s company’s silver mark.
I sighed.

I began calculations with Negachi.
The course of Sōra's spacecraft was generally aimed toward Mars, as determined from the elevation angle, azimuth, and speed.
However, there still remained some doubt about that.
As for Sōra, there was no way for us to know when he might freely alter his current state, and we considered what effect the full moon appearing ahead around six o'clock would ultimately have.

Evening came.
We were staring intently at the spacecraft's whereabouts.

The observatory's interior and exterior gradually grew noisier.
Police squads and local youth groups had likely arrived and were struggling desperately with my subordinates.
At this rate, I thought we might not hold out unless either Negachi or I confronted them.

"Detective, the spacecraft's course is changing."

I hurriedly peered into the telescope.
Indeed, it began tilting slightly to the left.

“Has it gone beyond the moon’s orbit?”

“Yes.”
“Exactly ten thousand kilometers beyond.”

The commotion outside gradually grew more intense.
The moon had risen considerably high.

I had Mayumiko and Kawamata brought from the adjacent room. The two wore worried expressions but had grown remarkably calm. I addressed them.

“Listen.”

I felt my chest quiver with some profound emotion.

“Listen.”
“What I am about to tell you and show you will require considerable courage from you.”
“First of all, Miss Mayumi—your real father is Mr. Kazama Masato, the pilot who undertook the non-stop around-the-world flight.”
“I cannot elaborate further, but there is a note from Mr. Kazama here. When you return home and ask your mother, she will undoubtedly confirm this to be true.”

“The man you believed to be your father until now, Mr. Sōra Jūkichi, was kind to you, but possessed a terrifying other nature.”
“You must already be partially aware of this, Mr. Kawamata.”
“That other nature.”
“Exactly.”
“Your true father, Mr. Kazama, was killed by Mr. Sōra.”
“No—this is absolute truth.”

At that moment, a crash resounded from the adjacent room as the wall collapsed.
The young pair stared wide-eyed and clung to each other.

“What was that noise?”

I thought it was all over.

“Negachi.”
“You will obey my orders.”
“To alter your appearance, I’ll lend you something useful.”

I grabbed my white-haired head with both hands and took it off like a hat. Next, I removed the connected cheek beard and mustache from below my ears.

“Oh! It’s you!”
The two men and the woman shouted with trembling voices.

“Kurido Rikyū is actually Matsuida Shirōtarō.”
“Negachi.”
“Put this on and immediately take up your defensive position.”
“We’ve got thirty minutes left!”

Negachi sniffled back tears and snot and rushed out of the room.

“Mr. Sōra created a terrible mechanism when designing the Matsukaze-gō’s propeller.”
“It was a propeller that showed not a single flaw when tested here on Earth.”
“However, at altitudes above ten thousand meters, due to the decrease in atmospheric pressure, a terrifying vibration was engineered to manifest.”
“That eerie vibration operates at an ultrasonic frequency of 300,000 cycles per second.”
“It produces vibrations inaudible to human ears.”
“This very vibration constitutes an adapted application of the murderous sound wave invented by Dr. Wood at Johns Hopkins University twenty-two or twenty-three years ago.”
“Here are Mr. Sōra’s propeller design documents.”
“Dr. Wood’s formula has been skillfully incorporated.”
“These were retrieved from that safe last night when Mr. Kawamata stayed at our office.”
“The lethal nature of this sound wave only became apparent much later.”
“The first suspicions emerged when Mr. Kazama and I were flying over Hakone at five thousand meters.”
“At that moment, I was overwhelmed by a truly dreadful sensation.”
“Had we ascended to greater heights, we would have been instantly destroyed.”
“I cannot say for certain whether Mr. Kazama fully understood this.”
“However, it remains true that Mr. Kazama had made a solemn resolution.”

“It goes without saying that Mr. Sōra harbored an illicit passion for Mrs. Kazama—Sumako.”
“Mr. Kazama was aware of this.”
“But at that time, he did not know Miss Mayumi had already taken root as a tiny presence in your mother’s womb.”
“The blood type reports I previously provided for the four involved parties have made the facts unequivocal.”

“Now, Mr. Kazama had planned to ascend to maximum altitude during this non-stop flight to increase the aircraft’s velocity.”
“Thus he fell precisely into the snare engineered by Mr. Sōra.”
“The Matsukaze-gō continued flying even while bearing Mr. Kazama’s remains.”
“Its location appeared undiscoverable anywhere on Earth.”
“Somehow, the Matsukaze-gō departed Earth and entered the Moon’s gravitational domain.”
“Though completely fuel-depleted, it thereafter became drawn by lunar gravity, ceaselessly orbiting our satellite like a minor planet.”
“Under my directive, Mr. Negachi—stationed at this observatory—ultimately detected it one week ago.”

"I told Mr. Sōra how I showed him the Matsukaze-gō floating through space like a phantom and caused him to lose consciousness," I continued. "As a result, I also informed them about Mr. Sōra’s desperate attempt to board the spacecraft he’d been developing and launch himself toward Mars."

The two turned their pale faces toward me without uttering a single word.

"Oh—"

I exclaimed in a low voice.

The spacecraft, which I thought had veered course to the left, was now unexpectedly advancing to the right.
The Moon had already slightly passed the spacecraft to the right.
Whether it turned left or right, it was ultimately under the Moon’s gravitational pull.
Whether by intent or chance, the spacecraft was finally prevented from following its course to Mars.

The sunlight reached the spacecraft’s hull, so the russet vessel stood out distinctly.
At that moment, within the telescope's circular field of view, something began to move steadily from the left edge.
A silver-glinting, tiny T-shaped form.
Oh, that was unmistakably the Matsukaze-gō.

The Matsukaze-gō appeared to be following closely behind the spacecraft, quietly pursuing it.
Whether chasing or being chased, both were floating vessels manipulated by corpses.
Though Sōra Jūkichi had now fled to the ends of the earth without awaiting the revenge I had planned, Kazama Masato’s resolve seemed to hang over him still, undiminished.

Before the two floating vessels loomed the desolate lunar surface—a moonshadowed plain resembling the ramparts of some dead kingdom's fortress. An aerial tomb of limitless horror! Oh, could any soul behold this spectacle of ultimate strangeness without losing their reason? I forgot even to relinquish the telescope to Mayumiko and her lover, standing transfixed where I was.