Paprika by Yasutaka Tsutsui Page A

devices to experiment on patients other than schizophrenics outside the Institute. Experimenting on human beings.” He suddenly stopped when he remembered that the devices could only be used on humans anyway; anything else would have been impossible. “Am I right or am I wrong?”
    “I am aware that there were such rumors,” Shima said casually. “But there was not one ounce of truth in them. Not one ounce. On the contrary, I heard that the rumors were spread by patients and their families who were already anticipating the huge benefits of the devices.”
    “Naturally you will deny it,” said the Senior Science Editor, vexed by a lack of firm evidence with which to press his case. “It’s just that there were rumors going around to that effect.”
    “On the subject of rumors,” started a white-faced young reporter who looked like a man to be reckoned with. He even had the nerve to remain seated. “Five or six years ago, when PT devices were still banned, a certain rumor was doing the rounds. I say ‘rumor’ – it was more like a legend. According to this ‘legend,’ a certain young woman would use PT devices to treat people in high positions who didn’t want it known that they were suffering from mental problems. I heard the rumor again recently, so I decided to investigate it. Once the ban was lifted, people started revealing information that had been kept secret until then. All of them agreed on one thing. The main character in this legend was a young girl who went by the alias ‘Paprika.’ Now, this is something that I’m extremely interested to discover the truth of,” he said with a meaningful look in Atsuko’s direction.
    “Rumors, rumors, nothing but rumors!” Shima repeatedly interrupted the journalists’ claims with dismissive laughs, though his voice was beginning to falter now. Atsuko was only too aware of the heavy burden he felt, honest and well meaning as he was. He was being forced to tell untruths to cover up illegal acts committed in the past; that went against his better nature. “Rumors. No truth in them whatsoever.”
    “Come to think of it, I heard that rumor too,” said the social affairs correspondent who’d asked the very first question. “Her name was Paprika, that’s right. She called herself a ‘dream detective.’ She would get inside men’s dreams, then engage in some kind of sex act and thereby cure them of their mental hangups.”
    “I heard it too,” piped up the science correspondent. No one stood to speak anymore; the place began to resemble a courtroom. “Paprika was some kind of code name. She was about eighteen, and quite a stunner, or so the story went.”
    “Only a moment ago, President Shima said that Doctor Chiba was already an excellent therapist when she was still a student in the Medical Facility,” said the Senior Science Editor, peering diagonally across at Atsuko with a vulpine expression. “I also heard about the legend of Paprika. I’d always thought it was nothing but a fairy tale, a whimsical product of the ban on PT devices. But now I’m beginning to wonder if it really was true. Surely it can’t have had anything to do with Doctor Chiba?”
    “Could we have a clear answer from Doctor Chiba?” the female reporter now demanded loudly. “Would you please confirm that this young woman was not yourself?”
    It was partly her anger at the female reporter’s gall that made Atsuko feel the color draining from her face. But even then, she still had confidence – just – that she could control her expression, and thereby prevent her inner turmoil from being exposed to all and sundry. “It’s just as Doctor Shima said. This story of a young woman called Paprika is a complete fabrication.”
    “Really?” asked the female reporter. She was more than happy to follow the standard pattern of brainless questioning usually reserved for celebrity press conferences.
    “There were only two people who could access the devices – me and Doctor