sounded bemused; he didn't believe it himself. He was sure it was an error of some sort. It was only natural, since medical professionals their age had never even had the chance to see a real smallpox patient. The only way for them to learn about the illness was through specialist works on viruses. Ando had seen a picture once, in a book, of a child covered with smallpox eruptions. A cute kid, mercilessly defiled by the pea-sized pustules, turning a hollow gaze on the camera. Those sores were the primary visible characteristic of smallpox. Ando seemed to remember reading that they reached their peak seven days after infection…
"First of all, Ryuji didn't even have a rash on his skin."
That much had been clear at a glance. His skin had glistened smoothly under the glare of the lights.
"Listen. This is so stupid I don't even want to say it. Did you know there's a strain of smallpox that produces obstructions in blood vessels, with a near one hundred percent mortality rate?"
Ando shook his head, ever so slightly. "No."
"Well, there is."
"Don't tell me that's what caused Ryuji's arterial blockage."
"Fine, then, I won't. But listen, that sarcoma he had on the interior wall of his artery-what was that? You looked at it under magnification."
Ando didn't answer.
"What caused it?"
Ando couldn't answer.
"I hope you're inoculated," Miyashita laughed. "It'd be pretty funny, though, wouldn't it? If that's what it turned out to be."
"Jokes aside, I just thought of something."
"What?"
"Forget smallpox, but suppose the sarcoma in his artery was actually caused by some sort of virus. There should be other people who've died with the same symptoms."
Miyashita grunted. He was weighing the possibilities. "Maybe. Can't rule it out."
"If you have the time, could you ask people at the other university hospitals? You've got the connections. It shouldn't be too hard."
"Gotcha. I'll see if any other bodies presented the same symptoms. If this turns out to be part of a larger syndrome, we could be in trouble."
"Don't worry. We'll have a good laugh over this, I'll bet."
They said goodbye and hung up at the same time.
The damp night air had stolen in through the open window. Ando went to shut it, sticking his head out before he did. The rain seemed to have stopped. The street directly below was lit by street-lamps at regular intervals; tire tracks stretched into the distance, twin dry stripes. Headlights streamed past on the No. 4 Metropolitan Expressway. The seamless whole of the city's din had become waterlogged, turning into a listless eddy. He shut the window, abruptly cutting off the sound.
Ando took a medical dictionary down from the bookshelf and leafed through it. He knew next to nothing about smallpox. It was the kind of thing there was no point in researching unless you had a scholarly interest in viruses. Smallpox was the common name for the viruses variola major and minor, genus orthopoxvirus, in the poxvirus family. Variola major had a fatality rate of thirty to fifty percent, while variola minor's was under five percent. There were also pox viruses that affected monkeys, rabbits, cows, and rats, but there had been hardly any cases of these in Japan; even if they did break out, they involved no serious danger, causing only localized rashes.
Ando closed the dictionary. The whole thing seemed ridiculous. Professor Seki had only glanced at the sore with his naked eye. And what he'd said was hardly a conclusive diagnosis. All he'd said was that the affected area looked like what happened with smallpox. Ando made denial after denial to himself. Why was he trying so hard to deny the possibility? Simple: if by some chance a virus was discovered in Ryuji's body, then he'd have to worry about whether Mai Takano had been infected. She and Ryuji had been intimate. In the case of smallpox, eruptions would occur in the mucous membrane inside the mouth; when they ulcerated, the virus would spread. As a result, saliva was a major
Learning to Kill: Stories