“No, seriously. Nothing on land casts a shadow down here, but all the heavenly bodies do, as they pass overhead. Not just the moon, but the stars and planets and everything. Down in the Dragon Palace we even have a calendar that’s made by tracing those shadows. We use it to determine the seasons. That moon’s a little past full, so today must be, what, the thirteenth?”
The tortoise is speaking in a sincere tone of voice, and Urashima is inclined to believe him this time, but it all still seems a bit fishy somehow. He is, however, more than willing to suspend his disbelief that the one smudge on this vast pale green expanse could be the moon’s shadow, if the alternative is a monstrous school of fish or, worse, smoke from a fire. For a man of cultivated tastes the moonshadow interpretation holds a good deal of charm, and he briefly entertains a certain melancholy nostalgia.
But now it begins to grow dark, and suddenly, along with an almost deafening roar, comes a rush of gale-force wind that nearly topples him from his seat.
“Better close your eyes again,” the tortoise says in a no-nonsense tone. “We’ve just reached the entrance to the Dragon Palace. Deep-sea divers have come down this far, but they generally assume they’ve reached the very bottom and head back up. In fact, you’re the first human being that’s ever passed through here. Probably the last too.”
It seems to Urashima as if the tortoise has rolled over. It’s a most peculiar sensation, as though his ride has done a half-somersault and is now upside-down and swimming
“You can open your eyes now.”
When he does so, the sensation of being upside-down vanishes. He is sitting atop the tortoise as he has been all along, and they’re still diving.
A dim light, as of dawn, suffuses the atmosphere around them, and Urashima can make out the vague outline of an immense row of white peaks. It appears to be a mountain range of some sort, but the peaks are so symmetrical that except for their enormous size they might be artificial structures.
“Those are mountains, right?”
“Right.”
“The mountains of the Dragon Palace.” Urashima’s voice is hoarse with excitement.
“Right.” The tortoise continues diving.
“They’re pure white. Covered with snow, are they?”
“Wow. You people with lofty destinies think differently from the rest of us, you know that? I mean, it takes my breath away. You think it snows at the bottom of the sea, for example.”
“Well, I’m told you have fires down here,” Urashima says, in an attempt to retaliate. “So you must have snow too. Water contains oxygen, after all.”
“Not much connection between snow and oxygen, I’m afraid-at least, no more than between the wind and the bucket-maker. If you’re trying to bring me down a notch, you’ll have to do better than that. But then, there’s no reason to expect refined gentlemen to be much good at repartee, I suppose. Once you’ve climbed to the top, snow fun coming down-how’s that? ’Sno fun, get it? Not very funny, I guess. Better than that oxygen crack, though. Oxygendeed, what? Sorry.”
“Be that as it may, those mountains-”
The tortoise snorts derisively again and says, “‘Be that as it may’? I love it. Be that as it may, those mountains aren’t covered with snow. They’re mountains of pearls.”
“Pearls?” Urashima gasps. “No, you’re lying. You couldn’t make a mountain as high as one of those even with ten or twenty thousand pearls.”
“Ten or twenty thousand? Your stinginess is showing again, young master. In the Dragon Palace we don’t count pearls individually. We talk about ‘hills’ of pearls. Some say a hill is thirty billion pearls, but nobody’s ever really bothered to count them. Put about a million hills together and you’ve got a mountain the size of those. We have a pearl disposal problem down here, you see. After all, if you think about it, they’re just oyster poop.”
As the tortoise is speaking, they reach the main entrance to the Dragon Palace. The palace gate, perched at the foot of one of the pearl mountains, emits a fluorescent glow but is surprisingly small. Urashima steps off the tortoise’s back and follows behind him, stooping slightly as he passes beneath the gate’s low-slung roof. Inside, it’s dim and hushed.
“Awfully quiet, isn’t it?” he says. “Too quiet. We aren’t in Hell, are we?”
“Get a grip on yourself, young master.” The tortoise slaps him on the back with a fin. “All royal palaces have this sort of hushed atmosphere. What did you imagine? Did you have some hackneyed vision of people dancing and singing and beating drums, as if it were a fishermen’s festival on the beach of Tango? Don’t be pathetic. I thought people like you were supposed to view quiet simplicity as the epitome of civilized taste. ‘Are we in Hell?’ he says. Shame on you. Once you get accustomed to the silence and the subdued light, you’ll be amazed to see how it comforts the heart. Watch your step, by the way. You’ll cut a pretty ridiculous figure if you slip and… What the-? You’re still wearing your sandals? Were you raised in a barn? Take them off!”
Blushing with embarrassment, Urashima hastily removes the footwear. In his bare feet, he’s aware of an odd sliminess to the surface he’s walking on.
“This road feels icky,” he says.
“It’s not a road, genius, it’s a corridor. We’re already inside the palace.”
“We are?” Startled, Urashima looks about but can’t see any walls or columns or anything of the sort. Only the dim, fathomless light wavering around him.
“Just as there’s no snow down here, my friend,” the tortoise says in a suddenly affectionate tone, “there’s no rain either. Which means there’s no need to build those horribly confining walls and ceilings and things, the way they do on land.”
“But the gate had a roof.”
“To make it easier to find. Princess Oto’s chambers have walls and a roof as well, but that’s only to protect her dignity and privacy.”
“You don’t say.” Urashima still looks baffled. “But where are her chambers? As far as I can see, it’s as lonely and desolate as Hades itself-there’s not a tree or a clump of grass to be seen.”
“You country boys. You see a few tall buildings and bright city lights and your mouths fall open, but you don’t have the least interest in the serene, secluded beauty of a place like this. Urashima-san, that noble refinement of yours is starting to look a little suspicious. But then, I suppose it’s only to be expected of a bumpkin from the wild and rocky coast of Tango. All that talk about culture and lofty destiny-it’s enough to make an honest man break out in a cold sweat. And you claim to be steeped in the time-honored tradition of gentlemanly refinement-what a laugh! Here you’re confronted with the real thing and you turn into a driveling hick. Well, the cat’s out of the bag now. You can stop playing the gentleman.”
Since arriving at the Dragon Palace, the tortoise’s poison tongue has only acquired an even nastier sting. Urashima is crushed.
“But… but… I can’t
“That’s why I told you to watch your step. This isn’t a corridor like on land, you know. It’s a bridge of fish. Hundreds of millions of fish all huddled together. Be careful.”
A chill races down Urashima’s spine, and he shoots to his tiptoes. No wonder the floor felt so slimy beneath his feet! Peering down, he can see that it does indeed consist of countless fish of every size and description, squeezed together gill to gill and all but motionless.
“This is horrible!” he sputters as he minces unsteadily along. “In very bad taste, I must say. Is this what you call the serene, secluded beauty of the place-having the guest walk on the backs of fish? It’s the ultimate in vulgarity! Think of the poor fish, to begin with! If this is refinement, it’s of a variety a bit too bizarre for simple country folk like me to comprehend!”
The opportunity to vent his resentment at having been called a hick provides a small amount of satisfaction, if only momentarily.
“Not at all, sir,” says a tiny voice at his feet. “We come here each day to listen to Her Highness Princess Oto play the harp. This bridge of ours isn’t an expression of refinement. We’re simply entranced by the music, you see. Please feel free to walk on. We don’t feel a thing, I assure you.”
“Oh. I see,” Urashima says with an embarrassed smile. “I thought this was meant as some sort of decorative touch to the palace environs or-”
