Baccano! - Volume 9 - Chapter Pr

Epilogue II-The Triumphal Return of the Vice President

“Vice President! We’re here! Wake up, please! Hurry, hurry!”

New York, at Pennsylvania Station…

The sweet voice seemed unsuited to the iron trains here in the easternmost station on the transcontinental rail line, the gateway to the quintessential American city.

“Come on! I’ll go without you! If you oversleep and end up going back west, the president will laugh at you! Mr. Nicholas will get that smirk on his face, and Mr. Henry will snort at you, and melancholy Mr. Elian will turn manic, and Miss Rachel will start stealing rides on trains again!”

Calling out in a voice like a bird’s song, the young girl flew out of the elegant, powerful, and somewhat vintage train.

The station wasn’t especially crowded, but the mass of people constantly shifted as each individual marched toward their goal with unerring steps.

The girl who’d dashed out of the train kept turning around and around on the spot, as if she was searching for her own destination.

She appeared to be younger than fifteen years old, and her general behavior suggested the same.

However, around her neck was a journalist’s camera, an accessory that didn’t fit her at all, and the mismatch seemed to highlight the girl’s extreme youth.

It most certainly wasn’t a toy. The contrasting black and silver of the Leica made for an imposing image.

But the girl made no attempt to live up to the majesty of her camera and hummed to herself as she waited for her companion to disembark from the train. “Lu-lu-la-la-lu-lu-la.”

Then, when the girl had twirled around several times and was getting quite dizzy, the man appeared.

“Hmm… Don’t rush me so, Carol.”

A man in his prime with distinctive, sharp eyes was looking out through the train door.

At first glance, he seemed quite young, but the sprinkling of gray in his hair made it impossible to get an accurate idea of his age. His keen, hawklike eyes were on the alert, and he wore a monocle over the left one.

It shone more like a mirror than a lens, and its convex surface reflected a distorted version of the station interior.

He was dressed quite neatly. From his designer-label clothes and the luxurious umbrella that sat beside his chair, he initially appeared be a key figure in a wealthy financial group. It struck an uncanny contrast with the unmistakably villainous sharpness of his eyes, and those who saw him would not soon forget him.

“Oh, you finally got out! You’re slow, Vice President!”

The girl with the camera turned a carefree smile on her ominous companion.

“Honestly! I can hardly wait to turn my notes on this long trip into an article!”

“For goodness’ sake. You should be aware that if the human heart is only able to beat a certain number of times over the course of a life, then your elevated pulse is steadily whittling away your remaining time.”

“That makes no sense, and I don’t need to be aware of that. For newspaper journalists, life is the speed of your articles! I have to hurry back to the paper and put this story together, along with everything else!”

The girl obviously wanted to get moving as quickly as possible, but…

“Hmm. So speed is equivalent to life, is it? In that case, Carol, I would award you 2,648 points, at most.”

“…Out of how many?”

Carol had begun glaring at him coldly, but the man she’d called vice president didn’t let it bother him. He went on impassively.

“What is of importance to newspaper journalists is the accuracy of the information… Or so I would like to tell you, but in point of fact, that is not necessarily the case. Mere bluffs can be published as articles as well. In fact, they occasionally sell better. What’s important is instinct, luck, and stamina. Your body and mind are your capital, and the pulse of a living heart and brain is the life of a journalist, just as it is the life of a human being… We could state that that is true as well, but as it does not serve as a conclusion, I would say it is also worth a mere 2,649 points.”

“A one-point difference?! …No, never mind. That doesn’t matter, so let’s drum up that moxie and hurry back to the—”

Carol had already given up and was trying to end the debate. However, she suddenly focused on something behind the vice president and gave a mystified yelp.

“Huh? Um… Huh?”

“What is it, Carol? No lady worthy of the name should point her finger at others without due cause.”

Chiding his assistant as she jabbed her index finger in his direction, the vice president began to adjust his monocle.

Questions rising in her mind, Carol asked, “Um. Vice President? You and I were traveling alone for these interviews, right? Just the two of us?”

“Hmm. Certainly, one could say that you and I conducted the majority of our activities on this journey in each other’s company. However, if you have gone out of your way to confirm information of which we are both fully aware, I presume some sort of abnormality has attracted your gaze to its current location—in other words, behind me. For the moment, say what you wish to say.”

“…Um…”

Carol thought for just a moment, and then—

She addressed not the vice president but the figure behind him.

“Excuse me. Who might you be?”

At that, the woman huddling close to the vice president’s back giggled a little and greeted them smoothly.

“Good afternoon.”

“Hmm…?”

“Should I say it’s a pleasure to meet you? It’s possible that ‘It’s nice to see you again’ would be more appropriate, but…”

When the vice president turned his head to look behind him, a lone woman was standing there.

She seemed to be an ordinary female traveler. Wearing an easy smile, she glibly launched into what sounded like a prepared speech.

“You’re the vice president of the DD newspaper, aren’t you? Or…perhaps I should call you an information broker, Gustav St. Germain? …Although it’s questionable whether that is your real name.”

The sudden new arrival was confirming their identities with unnecessary dramatic flair.

Carol sensed something rather creepy about all this. She took a step backward, attempting to hide in the vice president’s shadow, but Gustav didn’t seem disturbed in the least. His reply was just as overwrought, almost competing with her.

“Both are the truth, my good woman, so you may phrase your thoughts as you wish. However, the particulars of the position from which you have contacted us may necessitate a change in our attitude.”

Straightening up in an unhurried motion, the vice president adjusted his collar with one hand and turned to face the woman formally.

Still wearing a soft smile, the woman calmly began to verify a certain fact about them.

Specifically, that they really were information brokers.

“I have heard that you—the information brokers of the DD newspaper—handle every sort of information in existence. Is that correct?”

“Hmm… Indeed. We are information brokers. Using information as currency, we purchase money. To us, information is the standard of society, an absolute value. Its price fluctuates more wildly than the stock market, and its luster shifts through all the colors of the rainbow, depending on the transaction partner. As this is the only sort of merchandise in which we are able to deal, ours is a difficult trade. With regard to products, we can provide you with everything from human scandal to renown, repute, distant rumors, well-known news, peculiar tales… Even gossip and false rumors, should you desire them. And so, most valued customer who has chosen to rely on our company—am I to assume that is indeed what you are?”

The man’s long preface was rather like an advertisement, but he asked his question with the utmost courtesy. However, his eyes didn’t hold the slightest hint of flattery. It was as if he’d already discerned the woman’s true identity.

Then the woman acted exactly as the vice president had predicted.

She didn’t let that gentle smile slip. The motion was slight but efficient. She merely took a small, black, gleaming object from her bag and pointed it at the vice president’s chest—that was all.

“Once again, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Or possibly it’s nice to see you again. Both of you.”

“Huh? …Eek?!”

As Carol realized the woman was holding a pistol, her expression tensed.

Meanwhile, the vice president didn’t let the introduction of a weapon disturb him in the least. He quietly said to the woman, “I see. When a man handles information as currency, he should naturally admit the possibility of running afoul of a robber and losing it all to theft. If you are not a customer, I suppose there’s no need to treat you with courtesy.”

“V-Vice President! This isn’t the time for…”

Carol was clutching her camera and shaking like a leaf. Shifting his weight as if to shield her, the vice president indifferently delivered his information in the form of a negotiation.

“In that case, young Miss Robber, what information do you desire desperately enough to risk falling into the hands of the local law enforcement? …And before it comes to that, I would like to at least learn your name.”

His attitude toward the robber who had him at gunpoint was unfailingly courteous; however, he wasn’t smiling.

In contrast, the woman beamed as she pointed the gun at him. The small weapon was hidden by her clothing and the vice president’s, and the distant station personnel were blissfully oblivious.

“My name is Hilton. I’m one of the twins.”

It was an uncomplicated introduction.

“Hmm. I see. However…it would be a great help to me if you gave your individual name, rather than that of the collective.”

The response was equally simple.

Carol didn’t understand what had happened. Her fingers squeezed her camera tightly.

After a moment’s silence, the woman who’d called herself Hilton shook her head quietly—and replied with a hint of annoyance and a somewhat icier smile.

“…That’s right. That aspect of your kind…is terrifying.”

“Oho?”

“Information broker, information broker! As if that title is enough to excuse you for learning anything you want! You act like you rule the world, like you see everything! Be honest: Exactly how much do you know? About us… About me!”

She hadn’t flown off the handle completely, but she seemed ready to pull the trigger at any minute. For his part, the information broker spoke to himself, as if he’d retreated into a world of his own.

“Hmm… How much do I know? The answer to that question would be truly vague, and I expect that even I would be extraordinarily hard-pressed to pin it down… Had you asked how much I wanted to know, I could have responded, ‘All there is,’ but…”

Brooding half-seriously over that question, the vice president continued, almost talking to himself.

“As I am ignorant, I know only one phrase that could quantify what I know. Let me answer your inquiry with that one phrase. It is ‘As much as I can.’”

“I’ll thank you not to toy with me.”

The smile vanished from her face, and the woman who’d introduced herself as Hilton went on, her tone growing darker.

“You two were hanging around Chicago. You were everywhere. In fact, you were just as ‘everywhere’ as we are!”

“Allow me to correct you, Miss Robber. Unlike you, we are not all across America—conversely, we were where you were not.”

The vice president’s response was more of a riddle than anything. Hilton ground her teeth; then, calming down, she asked the information broker a new question.

“Yes. That’s why we want to know.”

She apparently hadn’t been able to calm herself completely, however. As she went on, her tone gradually roughened.

“Why was Master Huey’s…Why was his left eye stolen…? What on earth happened in the places I don’t know about?! I know what I went through in Chicago and Alcatraz—you information brokers were in league with them! …Or maybe that’s just one possible interpretation.”

The muzzle of the gun was wandering. After taking a few deep breaths, Hilton quietly held it steady.

Her anxiety up until that point had been due purely to anger and fury. It certainly wasn’t nervous tension from the act of holding someone at gunpoint.

The sharp, steady light in her eyes belonged to someone experienced in the art of murder, and it was clear—not only to the vice president but also to Carol—that the threat was real.

Their backs were against the wall; even if they gave the woman the information she wanted, they might not make it home unscathed. As she hugged her camera, the girl was paralyzed by her fears, but… The vice president gave a little sigh, then shook his head in dismay.

“Are you capable of believing the results produced by your actions?”

“…What do you mean?”

“An information broker who yields to threats will inevitably lie at some point. If he speaks because he values his own life, he will no doubt cheerfully spin any lie that will please the aggressor, in order to preserve it.”

“…”

Hilton looked thoughtful, but she didn’t shift the muzzle of the gun. She didn’t relax the pressure she was putting on the trigger.

Even so, the vice president didn’t give an inch.

“The DD newspaper will not yield to threats, nor will we bend the truth. However, if you say this is robbery…then allow me to surrender the information without resisting. All of it.”

“V-Vice President, if you’re going to do what she says anyway, be a little more humble about it, okay?!”

The vice president, Gustav St. Germain, ignored his teary-eyed and dubious assistant. Behind his monocle, his eye gleamed sharply.

“If we stay here, the station staff will discover us before long, and there will be a scene. For the time being, let us take this elsewhere.”

“…I was planning on doing that in the first place. It doesn’t look like you mean to run, either. If you intend to trap me, and you know my secret, then you know very well…what will happen later.”

“That’s fine by me. In that case, while we are en route, I advise you to organize your thoughts…and to prepare yourself in certain ways.”

“Prepare myself?”

The vice president had phrased his suggestion oddly, and his next comment was even stranger.

“If you indiscriminately rob a speaker of information, then you’ll find yourself learning absolutely everything, even information you would prefer not to know.”

He spoke as if he already knew everything about the woman who’d called herself Hilton.

Everything, everything, without hesitation, even what would happen to her later on…

“Remember this. No matter what happens as a result of your acquiring this knowledge…we information brokers are not so cowardly in our trade that we provide after-sales service to those who have stolen from us.”

The vice president’s words were quiet and unhurried, yet weighty.

“Now, then… To assist you in organizing your thoughts, while we walk, allow me to confirm some information concerning you and your people. I shall recount what you Lamia pawns did to the city of Chicago—and what you did not do.

“I will take my time…and give you the unvarnished truth.”