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pumped the mine full of water without first ascertaining the whereabouts of the
remaining miners. The final death toll rose to ninety-three. This was a heartrending
event. Coal was a “dirty” energy source, and its extraction was dangerous work.
Mining companies were slow
to invest in safety equipment, and working conditions
were terrible. Accidents were common and miners’ lungs were destroyed, but there
were many people and businesses that required coal because it was cheap. Aomame
had a clear memory of this accident.
The aftermath of the Yubari coal mine accident was still being reported in the
paper when Aomame found the event that she was looking for. It had occurred on
October 19, 1981. Not until Tamaru told her about it several
hours earlier was
Aomame aware that such an incident had ever happened. This was simply
unimaginable. The headline appeared on the front page of the morning edition in large
type:
YAMANASHI GUNFIGHT WITH RADICALS: 3 OFFICERS DIE
A large photo accompanied the article, an aerial shot of the location where the
battle
had occurred near Lake Motosu, in the hills of Yamanashi Prefecture. There
was also a simple map of the site, which was in the mountains away from the
developed area of lakeside vacation homes. There were three portrait photos of the
dead officers from the Yamanashi Prefectural Police. A Self-Defense Force special
paratroop unit dispatched by helicopter. Camouflage fatigues, sniper rifles with
scopes, short-barreled automatics.
Aomame scowled hugely. In order to express
her feelings properly, she stretched
every muscle in her face as far as it would go. Thanks to the partitions on either side
of her, no one else sitting at the library tables was able to witness her startling
transformation. She then took a deep breath, sucking in all the surrounding air that she
possibly could, and letting every bit of it out, like a whale
rising to the surface to
exchange all the air in its giant lungs. The sound startled the high school student
studying at the table behind her, his back to hers, and he spun around to look at her.
But he said nothing. He was just frightened.
After distorting her face for a while, Aomame made an effort to relax each of her
facial muscles until she had resumed a normal expression. For a long time after that,
she tapped at her front teeth with the top end of her ballpoint pen
and tried to organize
her thoughts. There ought to be a reason.
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