Грань будущего

           Afteralittlelessthananhourofrunning,Iplantedmyselfontheedgeoftheseawall.I’dcoveredabouteightkilometers,puttingmeabouthalfwaytoTateyama.Mysand-coloredshirtwasdarkwithsweat.Thegauzewrappedaroundmyheadwascomingloose.Agentleseabreeze-refreshingafterthathotwindthathadsweptacrossthebase-caressedthebackofmyneck.Ifitweren’tforthemachineguns,propsstolenfromsomelongforgottenanime,intrudingontherealworld,itwouldhavebeentheverypictureofatropicalresort.

           Thebeachwaslitteredwiththehusksofspentfireworkrockets-thecrudekindyouputtogetherandlaunchwithaplastictube.Noonewouldbecrazyenoughtocomethisclosetoamilitarybasetosetofffireworks.TheymusthavebeenleftbysomebastardonthefeedtryingtowarntheMimicsabouttheattackonBosoPeninsula.Therewereanti-waractivistsouttherewhowereconvincedtheMimicswereintelligentcreatures,andtheyweretryingtoopenalineofcommunicationwiththem.Ain’tdemocracygrand?

           Thankstoglobalwarming,thiswholestripofbeachwasbelowsealevelwhenthetidecamein.Bydusk,thesefuckingtubeswouldbewashedawaybytheseaandforgotten.Noonewouldeverknow.IkickedoneofthemeltedtubesashardasIcould.

           "Well,what’sthis?Asoljer?"

           Ispunaround.

           IthadbeenawhilesinceI’dheardanyonespeakJapanese.I’dbeensolostinmythoughts,Ididn’trealizeanyonehadcomeupbehindme.

           Twofigures,anelderlymanandalittlegirl,stoodatoptheembankment.