He understood the idea that Pi had changed, that a pattern had emerged, but the talk about Riemann’s hypothesis had gone completely over his head. According to Isogai, research on the patterned occurrence of prime numbers had shown a link between those properties and the physical world at a quantum level. Did that mean that the world of ideas, of numbers, was connected to the physical world by some sort of invisible thread? Isogai had explicitly stated that prime numbers could be equated to elements of our physical world. If that was the case, a change in the patterns of prime numbers was akin to the periodic table collapsing, and Hashiba had to admit that there could be repercussions in the physical universe.
He would just have to wait and see what information Chris and Isogai dug up. The two of them had stayed in Isogai’s room to continue their work while the others had dispersed. It was already clear that NASA had gotten wind of something important and that top scientific minds were being assembled in Washington. But the question remained as to exactly what the crisis was about.
Hashiba suspected that Isogai could already put together a pretty good guess, but he let the two men go ahead and gather as much intel as possible. Right now they were busy contacting acquaintances across the world, using their connections and networks to try and get access to some inside information. If they were able to gather enough snippets of information, then perhaps they could start to piece together the jigsaw. Together, they had the tools to find out exactly what it was that NASA was looking into. Hashiba was pleased with how hard the two men were working. It wasn’t like he was paying them that much; they were working purely out of scientific curiosity, throwing down the gauntlet at the boundaries of knowledge.
Hashiba thought about the scoop they would have on their hands if Isogai and Chris managed to work out what NASA was hiding. It was the biggest opportunity that had ever come his way, and it was hard to contain his excitement. All his hopes were riding on the work of the two scientists now. He just had to make sure the rest of the staff were willing to steer the program in that direction.
As Hashiba busied himself thinking about the program, images of Saeko continued to come and go in his mind. The more time passed, the closer she would be to the Fujimura house in Takato, and he felt his concern for her well-being looming ever larger in his mind. Deciding to call her, he pulled out his phone and flicked open the display. Immediately he saw that someone had tried to call him and that he must have missed the call in all the chaos.
0265-98-97xx
The call was from a landline; one glance told him that it hadn’t been Saeko’s cell. Whoever had called had left no message. Hashiba hadn’t been expecting any calls in particular, and the number was unfamiliar. He didn’t even know the area code 0265.
“Anyone know this number?” He read out the number on the phone’s display.
Kagayama was the first to answer. “That’s the area code for Ina.”
“Ina …” The exact place where Saeko was headed. There was only one place in Ina that had any possible relationship with them, and it popped into his mind the moment Kagayama mentioned the name: the Fujimura residence. “Kagayama, do you have the number for the Fujimuras?”
Kagayama shrugged his shoulders. “Why?”
“I just got a call from Ina.”
“Seriously?” Kagayama didn’t want to come to terms with what this could mean.
“Anyway, could you just look it up?” Hashiba persisted.
“You saw the place yourself and know nobody’s there. How could you get a call from there?”
“Maybe someone from the family returned?” Hosokawa offered, but no one reacted. It was obvious that that was impossible at this stage.
Hashiba stared at Kagayama until he gave up resisting and pulled out a notebook from his bag. He’d been the one originally assigned to set up the shoot at the house, so he still had all the notes. It looked like he indeed had the Fujimuras’ address in his notebook.
“I’ve got the address here … Not the phone number, though. There was no point, after all.”
That much made sense. There was little meaning in taking down the phone number of a house where all the inhabitants had disappeared.
“Well, take a look and see if the number’s listed — you can reference it with the address, right?” Hashiba requested.
Kagayama grumbled but made the call to information, punching the number and reading the address. As soon as he finished reading out the address, he tossed the phone to Hashiba as if it were diseased. Hashiba caught it and heard a female voice:
The number for that address is 0265-98-97xx. The number for that address is …
Hashiba hung up and tossed the phone back to Kagayama. He repeated the number out loud, letting Kagayama know that it was without doubt the number of the Fujimura residence. Hashiba could picture exactly where the phone was in the house. When Shigeo Torii had been inspecting the items they had laid out on the dining table, he had seen the gray telephone sitting on the middle of some shelves built into the wall, just above an empty vase. It had worn a light veil of dust, and there had been a small red light, blinking on and off. The phone line was still connected thanks to the automatic payments deducted from the family’s bank account.
Who would call from that number?
Hashiba had no idea, let alone for what reason. He saw an image of fingers pushing the buttons on the dusty phone but couldn’t focus on the rest of the details. The person’s body and facial details seemed to blend into the darkness of the room, ghostly and vague.
He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out again, hitting the quick dial for Saeko’s number. He realized he no longer cared if the staff found out about the two of them. The line went straight to her voice mail.
“Saeko, don’t go near the Fujimura house, there’s someone — something, there. I’m one hundred percent serious. Call me as soon as you get this message. Please, Saeko.”
In the heat of the moment he’d called her by her first name in front of the others.
Isogai and Chris were still in their room. The rest of the film crew waited around, increasingly frustrated and on edge, like patients waiting for the results of a cancer biopsy. On top of all of that, Hashiba had another problem to think about. No matter how many times he tried calling, Saeko wasn’t picking up her phone; she’d probably turned it off for the drive up in her rental car. Hashiba sat feeling helpless as the ringtone clicked to voice mail for the umpteenth time. Just as he was about to give up, someone knocked at the door. Hosokawa leapt up and opened the door to find Isogai standing there. All eyes turned towards him, eager to hear his news.
“Did you find anything out?” Hashiba asked.
Isogai shook his head and pulled a strange expression. “Not yet, but I thought I’d give you a report on how it’s going.”
“Oh. Sure, go ahead.”
“We’re making progress, getting information. Chris is working his way through his contacts, picking up on leads. I’m pretty confident we’ll get somewhere very soon. I want to show you what we’ve got so far. Could you come back to my room?”
Hashiba nodded and the group followed him back. Chris was working at the computer, engrossed in the screen, typing away furiously. He didn’t even seem to notice their arrival. Hashiba saw a couple of open duralumin suitcases scattered on the floor at his feet. On the desk were a couple of empty coffee cans. The desk had a mirror set into it, and depending on the angle it gave the impression that two versions of Chris were staring at a computer. Eventually, the American broke off his typing and looked up.
Isogai waved a hand. “Probably best to keep going, Chris. Thanks.” Turning to Hashiba, he said, “First, I want you to take a look at this.” He picked up his own laptop and turned it so the display was facing the group. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “As we know, a pattern has emerged in Pi and the Riemann hypothesis no longer works. Based on what we know, we started to field questions to various colleagues — physicists, mathematicians. At the same time we asked whether or not they knew of anything else happening, any other irregularities.