The Ark Sakura Read Online Free Page A

stopwatch attachment on his wristwatch. “Ten thousand yen says this disaster you’re talking about doesn’t happen.”
    “I said I’m only talking possibilities.”
    “I’ll make it the next twenty seconds.”
    “Either way, it’s a toss-up.”
    “And in twenty minutes, or two hours, or two days, or two months, or two years, it’ll still be a toss-up, right?”
    “You mean the whole thing doesn’t interest you unless you can bet on it?”
    “Don’t be so touchy. I know what you’re thinking: Even if it did come in twenty seconds, winning wouldn’t do you much good because you’d be too dead to collect. There could be no payoff unless it didn’t come. Not much of a gamble any way you look at it.”
    “Then why not go ahead and take the ticket?”
    “What a depressing creature you are.”
    “Why?”
    “I just can’t relate to someone who goes around hawking the end of the world.”
    All right then, smart-ass, go ahead and drop dead if that’s what you want. That head of yours looks terrific from the outside, but inside it must be stuffed with bean curd. Probably I overestimated the eupcaccia too.
    “When you’re sorry, it’ll be too late,” I said.
    “I’m going to take a leak.”
    “You’re positive you don’t want it?”
    The insect dealer began to get up. It wouldn’t do to leave the precious ticket lying there any longer. My hand started for it, but before I could reach it, he had slid his hand under mine and snatched it up, smiling broadly then as he adjusted his glasses. He might equally have been seeking reconciliation or merely teasing.
    “Wait back by the stall. I’ll be right there.”
    “Don’t walk out on me, now.”
    “All my stuff is still there.”
    “You mean the eupcaccias? You were going to throw them away, anyway. What kind of a guarantee is that?”
    He took off his watch and set it where the ticket case had been. “It’s a Seiko Chronograph, brand-new. Don’t you make off with it. ”

3
    THE SHILLS RAN AWAY
WITH THE TICKETS TO SURVIVAL
    Everything in the insect dealer’s stall was packed up, backing his assertion that he had decided to quit. The left-hand stall across the way—I’ve forgotten what it was selling—had likewise ceased business. The sky threatened rain any minute, and the hour was six-twenty—almost closing time. I entered the stall from the side, ducking under the canvas, and found in place of a chair a large suitcase, which doubtless contained the rest of the eupcaccias. Overly conscious, as always, of the eyes of others, I lowered myself onto the suitcase, shoulders hunched to avoid looking conspicuous. I needn’t have worried. The few remaining shoppers went scurrying past like young crabs racing to catch the tide.
    I transferred the insect dealer’s watch from my back pocket to my shirt pocket. My spirits were low—not, I thought, solely because of the weather. Was I sorry already that I had let him have the ticket? With what eagerness I had waited for and dreamed of this event—the finding of a companion—yet now that one had made his appearance, I began shrinking back. A bad habit. Must take a more positive view. He wasn’t a bad fellow in the least. A bit plain-spoken, but that was better than a lot of high-sounding talk. Not just anyone could have discovered the eupcaccia. He was probably a lot more quick-witted than he let on. The first crew member, above all, had to be far more than a mere cabin boy.
    To erase any doubts, as soon as he came back from the men’s room I could inform him that I was the captain, and have him sign a form stating that once aboard, he agreed unconditionally to obey any orders to disembark. The ship was mine. I discovered her, designed her, and built her. It was only proper for the crew to fall in line with my policies. Of course if he had a mind to disobey, no mere signature was going to stop him. In which case I’d have no choice but to put my punitive system into action. Basically a defense