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I see that you are backing away slowly. Oh, my mistake. You were actually fetching a nice mental health professional. Hello, Mr. Nice Mental Health Professional. I was always told that people like you wore white coats. In any case, どうもはじめまして。
The tektek is これ: http://www.tektek.org/avatar/3096098
That insanity aside, today I remembered the existence of my Kino's Journey fanfiction. So I typed up the description bit finally, but now I need to work on the guns. Have I mentioned that I hate translating things about guns? *checks* Why yes, yes I did. Well, it is equally true now. And I apologize sincerely. I said then that you'd be able to meet Koshakk soon, and you haven't been able to meet Koshakk yet. -blinks tiredly- Just for that, I'll try the gun bit.
...No, I won't. I'm sorry. I hate translating about guns. I don't know anything about guns. But I'll give you everything else. I'm sorry.
--
世界の崖っぷちの国
-End of the World-
It was a desert.
It was flat in all directions, and there was sand. Once in a while, there was a rugged, stubbly plant on the landscape, but even those were rare.
A single person was riding through the desert on a motorrad. (Note: a motorrad is a bicycle. The term refers only to non-flying vehicles.)
The motorrad was traveling at a fairly high speed, kicking up sand as it went. Its rear seat had been replaced with a luggage carrier, which currently held a large, somewhat dirty bag.
The person riding the motorrad was a young adult. She was fairly thin, and she wore a black coat that billowed around her as she rode. She also wore a thick belt that had a holster at her right thigh. Inside the holster was a hand persuader. (Note: a persuader is a gun, in this case a pistol.) Thick goggles covered her eyes to protect them from the grit that the motorrad stirred up.
The motorrad sputtered and spoke.
“If a sandstorm comes, we’re done for, Kino.”
The rider shrugged her narrow shoulders, keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I know, Hermes. There’s a country nearby. I’m aiming for that.”
“Well, hurry. All this sand is bad for my engine.”
After they rode through the sand a little longer, the motorrad that the rider had called “Hermes” spoke.
“Look! There’s a sign.”
“Yeah,” replied the rider that the motorrad had called “Kino.” She rode up to it to read it.
“The End of the World”
said the sign.
Kino and Hermes stared at the sign for a moment.
“Are we going there, Kino?” asked Hermes.
“Yes,” the young woman replied. She gazed at the sign without expression.
“Kino, I don’t want to go where the world’s about to end,” Hermes pouted. “I want to keep riding like this.”
“I know. I don’t think that’s what it means.”
“Then what does it mean?”
“Let’s go see.” Kino took a final glance at the sign. Then she started Hermes back up, and they rode through the sand a little longer.
They came to city walls.
Outside was a kiosk that said Traveler Information. Kino turned Hermes’ engine off, got off, put the kickstand down, and went up to the kiosk. She knocked.
A young man opened the door for her. “Ah! A traveler!” he exclaimed. “We haven’t had any travelers for a while, not since the news of the silver bird got out. Welcome, welcome, welcome! Would you like to stay in our country?”
“Yes, please. Here’s my passport,” said Kino.
The young man looked over her passport, nodded in approval, and stamped it. “Very good,” he said. “How long will you be staying?”
“Three days, please. I’ll leave the day after tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s perfect!” the young man said cheerfully. “In three days, the great bridge will be finished! By all means, you should attend the festivities.” He handed Kino’s passport back. “Enjoy your stay.”
Kino thanked him and wheeled Hermes inside the city walls.
She rode Hermes through the land slowly, stopping at grocery stores to restock her supplies. Several houses were decorated in patriotic banners.
After they’d walked for a while, it became evening. Kino stopped and asked one of the locals where she could find somewhere to eat and stay the night. The woman recommended an inn, and Kino thanked her.
“Have you been to the edge yet?” the woman asked.
Kino and Hermes looked at her, puzzled.
“The edge?” Hermes questioned.
“Go straight down Main Street until it turns into Edge Road, and that’ll take you there.”
“I see,” Kino said. “Thank you. By all means, we will check that out tomorrow.”
She gave the woman a smile and drove off.
“Kino!” Hermes protested. “What was she talking about?”
Kino stared straight ahead. “The end of the world,” she answered.
At the inn, the first thing Kino did was to wash the sand off Hermes. Then she had supper, took a shower, and laid down in bed.
“Hey, Kino.”
Just before Kino could fall asleep, Hermes spoke.
“Hm?” the sleepy traveler responded.
“I remember you said something once,” said the motorrad thoughtfully. “You said you would only stop traveling if you reached the end of the world.”
“Mhm.”
Kino offered no extra comment.
“So what are you going to do now?” pressed Hermes.
“Hmm.”
There was silence for a few seconds.
“Kino? Kino!”
Kino had gone to sleep.
The next morning, Kino awoke with the dawn. [&etc.]
After a light breakfast, Kino wheeled Hermes outside. “Shall we go?”
The motorrad yawned conspicuously. “Sure,” he replied.
Kino got on Hermes. She put down her goggles and started Hermes’ engine. They rode down Main Street at a leisurely pace, nodding to residents as they passed.
After about fifteen minutes, a sign indicated that Main Street became Edge Road.
“Almost there,” said Hermes. Kino nodded.
They rode for a few minutes more, and then they came to a sign.
Kino stopped Hermes’ engine and got off to walk the motorrad closer.
“You have reached the End of the World,”
Kino read from the sign.
A few feet behind it, there was a giant metal wall. It was twenty-five feet tall, and very solid-looking. About thirty yards away, there was a small door and what appeared to be a hut built into the wall.
“Let’s go,” said Kino, nodding towards the hut.
She wheeled Hermes over and knocked on the door. In a moment, the door opened.
A little old man stood in the doorway. He wore a simple gray tunic with an unusual insignia across the chest. He was very thin, with wiry limbs. His face, too, was narrow, and his eyes held a certain weathered look. “May I help you?” he asked softly.
“I am a traveler named Kino,” Kino introduced herself, “and this is my partner Hermes. We would like to see the end of the world.”
The man looked them over, and then he said, “Come in.”
Kino and Hermes went inside, and the man indicated that Kino should sit at the table in the center of the small room. She put Hermes’ kickstand down and did so. Then she looked around as the old man made tea.
The room he had invited them into was small and slightly cluttered, but cozy. It seemed to serve as a kitchen and general living room. There was a door on each wall of the room. And hung up along the wall were harnesses, as one might expect to see when rock climbing. Kino puzzled over these harnesses until the man served her some tea and sat down across from her.
“Since I was a young man,” he began, “I have been one of the Endkeepers. This wall was erected when I was a young boy—I’ll explain why in a moment—and shortly thereafter, just as I came of age, the huts that you see every hundred yards along the wall were built. It was at this hut that I earned my first job, and I have been employed here ever since.
As Kino and Hermes listened, the old man continued.
“Allow me to offer some background on the history of this land. It was first settled over two hundred years ago, by a people who disagreed with their native government. They settled here because, they discovered, they could go no further. They had reached, they believed, the end of the world—the place where the world simply drops into inexistence. They soon spread the news of their discovery, and this became known as the Land at the Edge of the World. Hundreds of travelers came each year to see the inimitable sight.” He looked wearily into Kino’s eyes. “I believe it is that sight you came to see.”
“Yes,” replied Kino. “By all means, I would love to see it.”
The man and went to the harnesses hanging on the walls. “First I must ask you to wear one of these, Miss Kino. Anyone who wishes to see the Edge is, by law, required to wear a harness.”
“Of course.” Kino allowed the old man to buckle the harness around her chest and legs and check it for snugness. He did the same for himself; then he attached a thick metal cable to each harness. He turned to Hermes. “I don’t have a harness suitable for a motorrad, Mr. Hermes, so I’ll have to ask you to exercise extreme caution at the edge.”
“Got it,” the motorrad replied.
The old man smiled at them both, holding the ends of the metal cables. “Let’s go, then.” He opened the back door, and Kino pushed Hermes outside. The man clipped the other ends of the metal cables to a long, solid bar that trailed along the wall, but Kino and Hermes didn’t see that.
They gasped as they stared forward.
Just yards from the wall, the earth stopped. There was no gradual fading, no gentle slope away. Just an abrupt inexistence of earth.
As they stared into the air beyond the edge, Kino and Hermes found themselves staring into an impenetrable fog that made it impossible to judge how far they were seeing.
It was the end of the world.
Kino and Hermes felt very small.
“Awesome,” Hermes muttered.
“You are standing,” the man said, his eyes looking lovingly over the expanse of nothingness, “where thousands of travelers have stood before you, looking at the same awe-inspiring sight.
“For two hundred years, people have come to see the end of the world. This wall wasn’t even built until fairly recently, and before that, anyone could come and see it. And people didn’t just come here to look—they came here to be free.” He gestured towards the empty air. “You can feel it, can’t you? When you look over the end of the world, you feel like your problems mean nothing.”
Kino didn’t reply, a strange emotion congealing in her chest.
“There were people who came here to throw things, too. To let something that was troubling them just fall off the world. I once saw someone—a very rich man—throw his entire fortune off the edge. Then he threw away everything that identified him and started a new life. He looked so free after that.
“However, before the wall was erected, occasionally people would have too much to drink and stumble off the edge by accident—and once in a while, there would be a suicide. This happened once when I was very young, and the relatives of the tragic soul, who also happened to be a very influential family, demanded that a wall be put up around the edge so that people couldn’t access it for such purposes.
“So, as I grew, the edge was inaccessible, but some people began to petition that it be reopened to the public. We were losing revenue from travelers, first of all—and besides that, the edge was part of our identity.
“Finally, they decided to build huts like mine into the wall and fit everyone who came to see the edge with a harness like the ones we’re wearing. That way, people could still experience the edge without the dangers of before.”
“I see,” said Hermes. “That’s good.”
“Yes, the man agreed. “For many years it has worked well. I joined the Endkeepers when I left school, and as I said, I’ve been working here ever since. Guarding the edge has been my entire life. However…” The old man gave a deep sigh and was silent for a moment.
“However?” Kino prompted.
“However,” the man continued wearily, “almost two months ago, a strange, giant, silver bird flew in through the fog and over the wall, landing almost right in front of my hut. And—a person came out. The bird was actually made of metal… the person called the bird an ‘aeroplane’ and himself a ‘pilot.’ Excitedly, he asked me a few questions about what kind of country he’d landed in, and then he asked to see our king, so I brought him there.
“He told the king that he was from a city on the other side of the ravine.
“‘The ravine?’ the king questioned. ‘You mean you’re from beyond the end of the world?’
“‘Beyond the…? No, no,’ said the pilot with a laugh. ‘This is… that’s not the end of the world. It’s just a canyon. It’s huge, I know—believe me, I know—but it’s still just a canyon. My country is on the other side of it.’
“He explained that his country had been working to build a bridge across the ravine for many years, and after a few hours of diplomatic talk, the king decided to allow them to complete the bridge onto our land. It will be finished tomorrow, and there will be a grand ceremony to mark its opening.”
The old man was then silent, staring across the ravine.
“May I ask you something?” Kino said.
“Of course.”
“How does the rest of the land feel about not being at the end of the world?”
The old man shrugged. “Some people are sad,” he admitted, “but mostly, the land is fascinated with the bridge and the foreigner and his silver bird. And everyone who lost someone to the edge now wants to scale the canyon’s walls to find the remains of his or her beloved.”
“I see,” said Kino. “Thank you very much for your time. Even if it’s not the end of the world, the edge is amazing. We will certainly come to see the ceremony tomorrow.”
For a moment, the man looked worried, almost as if he were about to tell them not to come, but then that look vanished, giving way to an incomplete smile. “Of course,” the man said. “Please enjoy it.”
“Thanks,” said Hermes.
The man unhooked the cables from the bar and led them back inside to undo Kino’s harness. Then, thanking him once more, Kino and Hermes rode back into town.
On their way back to the hotel, they stopped.
Walking down the side of the road, there was a young man whose skin tone was darker and whose clothes were different from those of the rest of the inhabitants of the land.
“Excuse me,” Kino said to the man, “but are you the man from the country across the ravine?”
The man smiled widely. “I am,” he replied. “You’re a traveler, then?”
“Yes. I am Kino, and this is my partner, Hermes.”
“Hello,” Hermes piped up.
“It’s nice to meet the two of you,” the man said.
“Would you mind telling me about why your country wanted to build a bridge across the ravine?” Kino requested.
“Not at all,” the man replied. “You see, our land was founded with the idea of defense from another country, so it was founded between the ravine and a mountain range. However, now that we’re a peaceful land, the location is more of a bother. We don’t have very much farmland or many natural resources, so the land can’t support the rate at which our population should be growing. Without the bridge, we had to trade over the mountains. With the bridge, however, we can ride across a set route to trade with this land.”
“But this land is between the edge and a desert,” Kino pointed out. “They probably have few resources to spare.”
“If it’s a desert, all they need to learn to do is irrigate!” the young man enthused. “They can get the water from the river that formed the canyon. It’ll be perfect!”
“I see,” Kino said. There was the faintest trace of coldness in her voice, but the young man didn’t hear it.
“So will I see you at the ceremony tomorrow?” the young man asked eagerly.
“I’ll be there,” Kino replied. “See you then.” She started Hermes again, and they returned to the hotel.
Kino was silent for a long time that afternoon. Finally, as she was eating supper, Hermes ventured, “Kino, you didn’t like that pilot very much, did you?”
Kino stared into her food, her eyes cold with anger. “There is nothing worse than a traveler who visits a country with the sole purport of changing something about that country.”
“You’re right, that’s pretty awful,” Hermes agreed. “But the people here don’t seem to mind so much.”
Kino took a bite and held her food to her mouth thoughtfully. “I wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“If you’re right.”
And no matter how much Hermes pressed her, Kino would say no more.
The ceremony the next day started at noon, so Kino had time to check to make sure she had everything they’d need once they left. Then, at about eleven, she ate a light lunch and rode Hermes towards the edge.
The road was much more crowded today.
“Seems like the whole town is on their way to the ceremony,” Hermes commented.
“That’s probably true, Hermes.”
When they reached the wall, Kino and Hermes found that the crowd had formed orderly lines at the Endkeepers’ huts.
“Of course,” Kino said. “It’s beyond the wall, so everyone needs a harness.”
Kino got fitted up, and then a junior Endkeeper, not much older than Kino herself, accompanied her to the area where the bridge was, detaching and reattaching the cable to the bar as needed. He took care of his own harness as well, each time carefully tugging both to make sure they were secured. When they arrived at the bridge area, Kino thanked the Endkeeper, and then she and Hermes looked at the bridge.
It was a fine bridge. Made of gleaming metal, it shone even as it trailed through the distant fog. Though its thickness seemed most suited to pedestrian traffic, a small vehicle about Hermes’ size could probably ride along it comfortably.
However.
“Kino…” Hermes said, his voice a little sad.
“I know,” Kino responded.
The silver bridge sliced away the feeling of awe-inspiring infinity. The edge before them now was merely a steep precipice, more dangerous that amazing.
Kino sighed heavily, and the ceremony began.
It was difficult for Kino and Hermes to see the podium set up in front of the bridge, because they were fairly far back, but speakers allowed them to hear as the land’s king announced why they were here. Then he introduced the foreign pilot. Kino stood with pursed lips as the pilot talked about his land and spoke of the building of the bridge and international friendship. He didn’t mention the irrigation plot just yet.
Then the king took the podium again. “This bridge is, of course, a beautiful and strong bridge, but the same dangers that existed at the edge will exist over the ravine. Therefore, we need to exercise just as much caution on this bridge as we have at the edge of the ravine. For that purpose, our neighbors across the canyon have made the bridge out of the strongest metal in the world, and they promise to soon install two bars, much like the ones we are all connected to now. This means, of course, that we will need Bridgekeepers at each end to regulate traffic over the bridge and attach anyone who wishes to traverse it to a harness. Allow me to introduce the new Head Bridgekeeper. He has served the Endkeepers faithfully for over fifty years and performs his duty to perfection. Ladies and gentlemen, your new Head Bridgekeeper, Koshakk!”
The crowd cheered, and Kino clapped along. Then Hermes said, “Kino, look!”
Kino had already seen, and she had stopped clapping in surprise. The Head Bridgekeeper was none other than the old man they’d spoken with yesterday.
“Thank you,” Koshakk said to calm the applause. “As His Majesty said, I have been working with the Endkeepers for fifty years, ever since I was old enough to have a job. I have loved this job. I have brought many people to the edge and treasured the looks on their faces as they beheld infinity. This place was beautiful as the End of the World. It was a national treasure, a worldwide treasure. But now we know better, don’t we? We have been foolish children, believing that this could be the End of the World. But now we have grown up, grown wiser. This is simply a cliff. A canyon. It is not beautiful—it is an inconvenience. Something to be overcome. And that disgusts me.”
The sudden change in the old man’s tone sent whispers through the crowd. Indistinctly, Kino and Hermes heard the voice of the young man make a laughing protest.
Koshakk spoke right over all of that. “This will always be the End of the World to me,” he said, “and that is why I cannot accept the position of Bridgekeeper, as generous as the over is, Your Majesty. Even if this cliff is not the end of the world, it will be the end of mine.”
Kino’s eyes widened.
The old man tugged on his cable—but not to make sure it was secure. He pulled and pulled, and he gathered in the cable until finally he held the end in his hand.
He had not attached it to the bar.
The onlookers stood, holding their breaths or muttering amongst themselves, not comprehending. But Kino understood; leaving Hermes, she dashed through the crowd towards Koshakk, until suddenly she felt a sharp tug on her upper body. Her own harness kept her back.
“Mr. Koshakk!” she shouted, but her voice was lost among shocked screams. Koshakk had already leapt off the Edge.
Later that afternoon, a young woman drove a motorrad through the desert.
They were going at a fairly slow pace, as if the driver had a lot on her mind.
“Kino…” said the motorrad. “Were you expecting Mr. Koshakk to do that?”
“I wouldn’t say I was expecting it,” Kino replied over the sound of the engine, “but as horrible as it was, it didn’t surprise me. I can almost understand how he felt.”
“You can?”
“If that had really been the end of the world, I don’t know what I would have done. My journey is as important to me as the edge was to him.”
“Then you shouldn’t have gone there in the first place!” Hermes exclaimed. “Then you wouldn’t reach the end of the world.”
Kino was silent for a moment. “Somehow, I feel like that would have been just as dishonest as what that pilot did.”
“Hmmm,” said Hermes. And in a moment he added, “I don’t get it.”
“The world is what it is, Hermes. So…”
“So?”
“So I’ll keep journeying.”
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