The Ark Sakura Read Online Free

from behind. A pungent whiff of pomade.
    “No soliciting without a permit, buddy. Pay the fee and open your own stall, just like everybody else.” A boxlike man, hair parted on one side, stood looming behind me. His eyes, moist with intensity, were round and deep-set. His erect posture and the badge on his chest immediately identified him as a member of the store’s security detail.
    “I’m not soliciting.”
    “You’ll have to come with me. You can file your complaints over at the office.”
    Eyes converged on us. A wall of curiosity, anticipating a show. Then Goggle Eyes grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into the flesh until my wrist began to tingle—a form of punishment he was evidently used to meting out. With my eyes I signaled to the insect dealer for help, expecting him to be able to say something in my defense. But he kept his head lowered, and did nothing but fumble in his pocket. The man was all talk, not to be trusted. Let that be a lesson to me. It wouldn’t do to start passing out tickets recklessly.
    Resigned, I began to get up. All at once, Goggle Eyes softened his grip. The insect dealer’s right arm was extended toward us, displaying in two fingers a tan card.
    “Permit number E-eighteen.”
    “That won’t work. This guy is the one who was soliciting.”
    “He’s my partner. Since when is use restricted to the bearer?”
    “Oh. Well, in that case …”
    “I’ll go along with you,” offered the insect dealer genially. “It’s the least I can do.”
    “No, that’s okay, as long as I know the score.”
    “Not so fast. You’ve embarrassed us publicly. Now there has to be a proper settling up.”
    “I am sorry this happened, sir. But we do ask in principle that you restrict business activities to the place stipulated.”
    “Yes, certainly. Sorry to have troubled you.”
    Palms facing us in a gesture of apology, Goggle Eyes backed speedily off and disappeared. I was filled with remorse, abashed that for those few seconds I had doubted the insect dealer.
    “Thanks. You saved me.”
    “A lot of those guys are former cops. Out to fill their quotas.”
    “Anyway, please take this,” I said, pressing the case on him. “It may not be as fancy as the one for the eupcaccias, but it’s pretty nice, don’t you think? Real leather, hand-tooled.”
    “So the case is imposing and the contents are worthless, eh? At least you’re honest.”
    “No, no—this is a ticket to survival. Open it up and see for yourself.”
    “Survival? Of what?”
    “The disaster, of course.”
    “What disaster?”
    “Well, don’t you think we’re teetering on the brink of disaster right now—nature, mankind, the earth, the whole world?”
    “As a matter of fact, I do. But my thinking so isn’t going to make any difference.”
    “Come on. I’ll show you.”
    I stood up and motioned for him to follow, but the insect dealer remained where he was, making no move either to touch the ticket case or to get up from his chair.
    “It’s just not my line. Social protest, that sort of thing. I’m the type who believes in letting things take their course.”
    “Nobody’s asking you to worry about anyone else. This is strictly for you yourself.”
    “Thanks, anyway. I think I’ll pass it up. Who am I to survive when other people don’t? Isn’t it a sin to ask for too much?”
    There was something to what he said. He had found my vulnerable spot.
    “Don’t you see, I want to trade you this for the rest of the eupcaccias.”
    “Some other time. What’s the rush?”
    “That just shows how little you know. The disaster is on its way. Don’t you read the papers?”
    “Oh, yeah? When is it coming?”
    “It could very well be tomorrow.”
    “Not today? Tomorrow?”
    “I’m just talking possibilities. It could come this very instant, for all I know. All I’m saying is, it won’t be long.”
    “Want to bet?”
    “On what?”
    “On whether it comes in the next ten seconds.” He prepared to start the