Free Paprika by Yasutaka Tsutsui Page B

Sukenobu. The President also smiled wryly.
    The three eventually agreed to have one last drink in one of the hotel’s quieter bars before going home. They went down to an exclusive bar in the basement; Sukenobu was a member.
    Noda, Sukenobu, and the President sat and talked in the far corner of the bar, which was otherwise empty. First they discussed the plans for marketing the zero-emissions vehicle. Even Sukenobu was working on that now.
    Suddenly, Sukenobu started to complain about Namba. He’d been subjected to another of Namba’s selfish rants that afternoon, he said. But while he complained about Namba’s infantile behavior, it was also a roundabout dig at Noda for doing nothing about it. Noda just let Sukenobu have his say. He made no attempt at all to defend either Namba or himself. If he had done, he would certainly have fallen into Sukenobu’s trap. Inwardly, Noda was laughing. This was the very situation where his skill would come to the fore – his skill in taking his opponent by surprise.
    The President didn’t exactly spring to Namba’s defense either, but merely punctuated Sukenobu’s complaints with the occasional “That’s too bad.” Of course, Sukenobu’s strategy was based on the knowledge that even the President had started to dislike Namba.
    Noda himself had had yet another argument with Namba that very day. Noda had suggested a minor compromise as a way of avoiding a larger one. Namba had rejected it, though well aware of the reasoning. The only possible explanation was that Namba had deliberately wanted to pick a quarrel. In the end, Noda felt utterly exasperated, as they just seemed to be arguing for argument’s sake. He realized he’d been indulging Namba too much. In fact, Namba now seemed to be testing him, to see how far his insubordination would be tolerated.
    Despite all this, Noda still refrained from adding his weight to the attack on Namba. In his view, a superior who criticized a subordinate behind his back was a man of questionable integrity. In any case, a superior had the power to make or break a subordinate’s career; if there were accusations to be made, they should be made to the man’s face.
    “By the way, Mr. President, how about young Kinichi as Manager of the Development Office?” Noda said, taking Sukenobu completely by surprise. Kinichi was the President’s nephew. He’d graduated from the engineering faculty of a state university, but had worked in General Affairs since joining the company.
    The President could barely conceal his delight. His nephew had been eyeing the post of Development Office Manager for some time, but Namba’s presence had made it impossible.
    “Oh, yes! That’s right!” Sukenobu exclaimed loudly. Though momentarily thrown by Noda’s suggestion, he now cast daggers at Noda, as if to accuse him of currying favor. “I’d forgotten about Kinichi.” He suddenly seemed to realize how contrived his statement had sounded, and now tried to justify himself: “Of course, that doesn’t mean I hadn’t been thinking about Kinichi …”
    In reality, of course, the President’s nephew had been the furthest thing from his mind; he had never for a moment imagined that Noda would suggest him for the post.
    “Nevertheless, Namba has really done very well, hasn’t he,” the President said in apparent modesty. Since the two directors had finally managed to agree on something, he seemed happy just to let them think it out from now on. He looked quite satisfied.
    “Well, anyway, we’ll talk about it some other day,” Sukenobu said with a meaningful nod toward Noda.
    Noda thought about Namba on his way home in the chauffeured limousine. Namba certainly had talent, but in the final analysis he was not suited to management. Was the man aware of that himself? Probably not. After all, he probably thought he could one day become President.
    Noda realized that he had absolutely no wish to protect Namba, in contrast to his own analysis of the dream