Free Loop by Kôji Suzuki, Glynne Walley Page B

was impaired and it died. The obviously negative aspects of this were what stood out, but at the same time it was possible to detect in the cancer's actions a certain groping towards something. By infiltrating the blood and lymph to penetrate cells elsewhere, it was experimenting with transplanting its immortal nature bit by bit. But to what end?
    To create somewhere within the body a new organ adapted to the future. Maybe the Metastatic Human Cancer Virus was nothing but a sort of trial-and-error attempt to create a new organ.
    In the process, large numbers of human beings would die, just as most of the fish had died at the water's edge. But just as after a hundred million years sea life had finally made it onto the land, someday, after countless sacrifices, maybe the human race would find itself with a new organ. Humanity would have evolved. Maybe an evolutionary leap comparable to the movement from the water to the land was impossible without something like a new organ. When would it happen?
    Human cancer deaths were surging upward, but without knowing when the cancer cells had started their work it was impossible to know if the human race had just begun its fumbling toward evolution, or was about to complete it. The only thing certain was that the pace of evolution was accelerating. The time it took for apes to evolve into humans was shorter than what had been needed for sea creatures to evolve into amphibians, so much shorter that there was almost no comparison. So it was possible. The intervals in the evolutionary process were gradually getting shorter, so maybe it wasn't too soon for this to be evolution, too.
    Kaoru wanted to think so. He wanted to turn his attention to anything that would afford him hope. He wanted to believe that his father would be the first one to successfully evolve, rather than just another sacrifice.
    To be reborn. Kaoru would have wanted that, if it were possible. No doubt everybody wanted to live again. The gift of eternal life.
    Since it was a property of the MHC virus to create immortal cells, it was only natural to fantasize about human immortality. Maybe even Ryoji had a chance.
    Kaoru almost said so, but bit back the words. Anything that sounded like an affirmation of the illness might have the effect of loosening the boy's attachment to living.
    He heard faint snoring right behind him. Reiko, who had been nodding off for some time, had finally lowered her face to the table and gone to sleep. Kaoru and Ryoji looked at each other and giggled.
    It was still early, not even eight o'clock. Outside the window, the evening cityscape was starting to emerge from the summer dusk. From below the window came the sounds of highway traffic, suddenly loud.
    Reiko's elbow twitched, knocking an empty soda can to the floor, but she didn't awaken.
    Kaoru spoke cautiously. "Your mom's asleep. Maybe it's time I was leaving." The lesson had ended long ago.
    "Weren't you about to say something to me just now, Kaoru?"
     
    Ryoji looked discontented, as if he hadn't had his fill of talking yet.
    "We'll pick up where we left off next time."
    Kaoru stood up and looked around the room. Reiko had gone to sleep with her right cheek pillowed on her hands and her face turned in his direction. Her eyes were closed but her mouth was half open, and the back of her hand was wet with drool. Fast asleep, she looked quite cute.
    It was the first time he'd thought that about a woman ten years older than him. Kaoru felt affection for her entire body, and harbored a momentary desire to touch her.
    Ryoji reached out and shook her shoulder. "Mom, Mom." She still didn't wake up.
    "It's no good. She's out like a light."
    Ryoji trained his innocent eyes on Kaoru, and then on the extra bed provided for relatives accompanying the patient. "Mom gets tired taking care of me, so I like to let her sleep when she can. She'll have to wake up in the middle of the night tonight anyway," he said, as if he weren't making a veiled