Salmonella men on Planet Porno: stories - By Yasutaka Tsutsui Page 0,43

I wanted to be on the night shift, but as luck would have it, I’m night-blind.”

We parted just before the ticket gate.

“Well, let’s do our best to stay alive,” I said. “I’m not interested in the pros and cons of the war. I’m just going to look after Number One.”

“Yes. That’s the best way.”

As I left the station, I could already see the black smoke of battle rising silently behind a hill on the far side of town. Muffled sounds of gunfire and shelling could be heard in the distance. I was going to be late anyway, but I had no idea what the penalty would be. So I ran through the little town – a virtual ruin due to repeated shelling – and sped towards the hill as fast as I could.

Panting, I raced up the slope of the hill. When I reached the top, I was presented with a sight that took my breath away. The entire landscape stretched out in front of me was one vast battlefield. Virtually the whole area – from the tops of the hills in the foreground to the mountains in the middle distance – was occupied by troops of the People’s Republic of Gabat. The fighting was taking place in lowland woods and forests that spread out to right and left of the foreground. Troops from both sides were locked in battle like the teeth of two combs. Minor skirmishes here and there broke up the shape of the combs, as each side tested the other’s endurance. Both Galibia and Gabat are poor countries, and they only appeared to have two or three tanks each. What’s more, being such precious commodities, these tanks weren’t taken too far forwards, but were being kept in the rear on both sides. The offensive was being maintained by the more expendable infantry.

I tried to forget my fear as I raced down the hill, towards what I thought was Position 23. But when I got there, the time recorder was nowhere to be seen.

“Er, I’m sorry to bother you,” I said to a pair of soldiers who were operating a bazooka in a crater. “Do you know a place near here where there are two big bodhi trees?”

“They were right here till a minute ago,” answered the one who had the barrel of the bazooka on his shoulder. “But they were blown up by a shell just now. This is the crater it left.”

“This area used to be the rearguard,” said the other soldier. “Now we’re retreating so fast, it’ll soon be the front line!”

I really hoped it wasn’t just because the rifles were faulty. I poked my head out of the crater and looked over to the west. A hundred yards away, I could see the burnt-out wreckage of a truck, with the time recorder in its shadow.

“There it is!”

I ran towards the truck, keeping my body low, as bullets skimmed and whizzed past my helmet from all directions.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!…

I heard a ghastly whining sound as a shell hurtled towards me. Suddenly there was a dazzling flash of light, and a deafening roar as the shell exploded. I was thrown into the air and hurled onto the ground. When I eventually lifted my mud-caked face, I could see no trace of the wrecked truck, nor of the time recorder.

“My God! No time recorder!” If I’d arrived just moments earlier, I’d have been blown to bits along with it.

I looked at my watch. It was 09.13. There was no denying it – I was late. But now there was nothing to prove it. I felt slightly relieved. Now I could say there’d been no time recorder, and might even get away without a penalty.

That last shell had sparked off a salvo of firing, and shells were falling all around me. I ran to take shelter in a nearby wood. There, scores of soldiers were crouching amid dense undergrowth at the foot of the trees.

“Er, excuse me,” I said, approaching one who wore the stripes of a platoon leader. “Could you tell me where the Third Platoon of the Second Infantry Battalion is? I’ve been seconded to them, you see.”

“Ha! You’re late,” he replied with a smile. “We’re in the same Battalion. The Third Platoon was ordered to attack first thing this morning. They’ve just been wiped out.”

“W-wiped out?” I stood speechless for a moment. Then I quickly shook my head. “It’s not because I’m late that I survived. I’m a non-combatant. I work for a Japanese company, and