Rainfall Read Free Page A

holding one of the overhead bars. I needed to stay close now.

    The word I had gotten was that this had to look natural: my specialty, and the reason my services are always in demand. Harry had obtained Kawamura’s medical records from Jikei University Hospital, which showed that he had a condition called complete heart block and owed his continuing existence to a pacemaker installed five years earlier.

    I twisted so that my back was to the doors — a slight breach of Tokyo’s minimal train etiquette, but I didn’t want anyone who might speak English to see the kinds of prompts that were going to appear on the screen of the PDA computer I was carrying. I had downloaded a cardiac interrogation program into it, the kind a doctor uses to adjust a patient’s pacemaker. And I had rigged it so that the PDA fed infrared commands to the control magnet. The only difference between my setup and a cardiologist’s was that mine was miniaturized and wireless. That, and I hadn’t taken the Hippocratic oath.

    The PDA was already turned on and in sleep mode, so it powered up instantly. I glanced down at the screen. It was flashing “pacing parameters.” I hit the Enter key and the screen changed, giving me an option of “threshold testing” and “sensing testing.” I selected the former and was offered a range of parameters: rate, pulse width, amplitude. I chose rate and quickly set the pacemaker at its lowest rate limit of forty beats per minute, then returned to the previous screen and selected pulse width. The screen indicated that the pacemaker was set to deliver current at durations of .48 milliseconds. I decreased the pulse width as far as it would go, then changed to amplitude. The unit was preset at 8.5 volts, and I started dropping it a half volt at a time. When I had taken it down two full volts, the screen flashed, “You have now decreased unit amplitude by two volts. Are you sure you want to continue to decrease unit amplitude?” I entered, “Yes” and went on, repeating the sequence every time I took it down two volts.

    When the train pulled into Yoyogi Station, Kawamura stepped off. Was he getting off here? That would be a problem: the unit’s infrared had limited range, and it would be a challenge to operate it and follow him closely at the same time.
Damn, just a few more seconds
, I thought, bracing to follow him out. But he was only allowing the people behind him to leave the train, and stopped outside the doors. When the Yoyogi passengers had exited he got back on, followed closely by several people who had been waiting on the platform. The doors closed, and we moved off again.

    At two volts, the screen warned me that I was nearing minimum output values and it would be dangerous to further decrease output. I overrode the warning and took the unit down another half volt, glancing up at Kawamura as I did so. He hadn’t changed his position.

    When I reached a single volt and tried to go further, the screen flashed, “Your command will set the unit at minimum output values. Are you certain that you wish to enter this command?” I entered “Yes.” It prompted me one more time anyway: “You have programmed the unit to minimum output values. Please confirm.” Again I entered, “Yes.” There was a one-second delay, then the screen started flashing bold-faced letters: Unacceptable output values. Unacceptable output values.

    I closed the cover, but left the PDA on. It would reset automatically. There was always the chance that the sequence hadn’t worked the first time around, and I wanted to be able to try again if I had to.

    There wasn’t any need. As the train pulled into Shinjuku Station and jerked to a stop, Kawamura stumbled against the woman next to him. The doors opened and the other passengers flowed out, but Kawamura remained, gripping one of the upright bars next to the door with his right hand and clutching his package of fruit with his left, commuters shoving past him. I watched him