Человек в высоком замке

           Andtheyoungones,whoweretohimnotlikeJapaneseatall.Mr.Tagomi’sclientwouldprobablybeportly,abusinessman,smokingaPhilippinecigar.

           Andthen,standingbeforetheNipponTimesBuilding,withhisbagsonthesidewalkbesidehim,Childansuddenlythoughtwithachill:Supposehisclientisn’tJapanese!Everythinginthebagshadbeenselectedwiththeminmind,theirtastes—

           ButthemanhadtobeJapanese.ACivilWarrecruitingposterhadbeenMr.Tagomi’soriginalorder;surelyonlyaJapanesewouldcareaboutsuchdebris.Typicaloftheirmaniaforthetrivial,theirlegalisticfascinationwithdocuments,proclamations,ads.HerememberedonewhohaddevotedhisleisuretimetocollectingnewspaperadsofAmericanpatentmedicinesofthe1900s.

           Therewereotherproblemstoface.Immediateproblems.ThroughthehighdoorsoftheNipponTimesBuildingmenandwomenhurried,allofthemwell-dressed;theirvoicesreachedChildan’sears,andhestartedintomotion.Aglanceupwardatthetoweringedifice,thehighestbuildinginSanFrancisco.Wallofoffices,windows,thefabulousdesignoftheJapanesearchitects—andthesurroundinggardensofdwarfevergreens,rocks,thekaresansuilandscape,sandimitatingadried-upstreamwindingpastroots,amongsimple,irregularflatstones…

           Hesawablackwhohadcarriedbaggage,nowfree.AtonceChildancalled,"Porter!"

           Theblacktrottedtowardhim,smiling.

           "Tothetwentiethfloor,"Childansaidinhisharshestvoice."SuiteB.Atonce."