[No. 27] Tetsuo Takashima

"In life, you never know what's just around the corner..."

"That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind." These were the words of astronaut Captain Armstrong in 1969, the first man in history to set foot on a celestial body other than Earth. I was a freshman in college.

It was then that I decided I wanted to work with rockets. Not knowing how to go about it, I remember buying and reading photo books and general introductory books about space and rockets. The related field was fluid dynamics.

During a lab tour, I found a laboratory conducting basic research on MHD power generation. It had a device that generated a shock wave by setting a scored aluminum plate at one end of a vacuum-sealed pipe and then rupturing it. The term "magnetohydrodynamics" had a somewhat academic ring to it, so I wrote my graduation thesis in that lab. I was blessed with great teachers and senior students there, and it was an enjoyable and meaningful year.

After entering graduate school, I commuted to the Electrotechnical Laboratory of the Ministry of International Trade and Industry, then located in Tanashi, to work on nuclear fusion. I earned my course credits in just over a year, and for the latter half, I spent most of my time at the Electrotechnical Laboratory.

At the Electrotechnical Laboratory, I worked on a theta-pinch device. This is a device that creates high-density, high-temperature plasma by compressing gas within a cylinder using magnetic field lines. Here too, I was blessed with talented teachers and was able to spend my time meaningfully.

During my time in graduate school, I participated in study groups like "Plasma Wakate" (Young Plasma Researchers), which brought together students from universities across the country who were studying plasma.

At that time, I had the opportunity to visit the Japan Atomic Energy Research Institute and see a world-class tokamak-type nuclear fusion experimental device. I remember being so captivated by the phrase "A sun on Earth" that I passionately decided to make it my lifelong research theme. I genuinely believed that I would contribute to humanity through science.

After finishing my master's degree, I took a job at the Japan Atomic Energy Research Institute.

Here, I was involved in the research and development of a next-generation large-scale nuclear fusion experimental device called "JT-60." Once completed several years later, it was expected to become one of the world's top large-scale tokamak experimental devices. In fact, since it began operation, it has produced the world's best experimental results.

However, before starting my job, I traveled to the United States for about a month to visit a friend and tour American universities, and at that time, I felt a strong desire to return one day.

Fortunately, I had written my master's thesis in English, and just over two years after joining the institute, I had also completed a paper in English, which I sent to a professor at UCLA and managed to receive an acceptance letter.

After that, a lot of things happened, and in the end, I faced setbacks and returned to Japan. I'll skip the details, as it's tedious and not a very pleasant memory. In short, I saw the limits of my own talent. The world was a vast place.

A lot happened after I returned to Japan as well. However, it was a relatively relaxed period, and time passed while I was raising my children and just spacing out.

When I left the institute, I made a grand promise that I would come back and give a lecture to everyone. At the time, I was a fool who knew no fear; thinking about it now makes me blush.

This May, I gave a lecture at the Japan Atomic Energy Research Institute. It wasn't a dashing presentation with mathematical formulas and experimental data, but rather a talk on "Science and Literature," a topic I don't fully understand myself, but I enjoyed it, feeling as if I had returned to my old home. After the lecture, my old group members held a drinking party for me. It was far more relaxing than a party in the literary world.

To be honest, I agonized over the decision to pursue a career as a writer, but now I've convinced myself that it was a good choice.

When I debuted as a novelist, my editor suggested we promote me as a "major newcomer from the Japan Atomic Energy Research Institute," and my background in science, along with what little scientific knowledge I have, has been useful.

The only books I really read were collections of world literature for children in elementary school; after that, I hardly read any novels. Even now, I read more research materials than novels, and I find it more enjoyable.

I'm not consciously doing it, but many of my works are based on science. "Petrobug" and "Gene of Life" are related to genetics, while "Spica" and "Messenger from the Underworld" are related to nuclear power.

Currently, due to the influence of "M8," which I published last year, I'm writing more disaster-themed stories. The story is about predicting earthquakes using a supercomputer, which seems plausible, but a friend who is an expert in the field told me it's quite far-fetched.

"TSUNAMI" will be released on the 15th of this month. As the name suggests, it deals with tsunamis, and I would be grateful if, through this book, many people could learn about the horror of earthquakes and tsunamis, while also understanding that they are not so frightening if one has the correct knowledge and takes proper countermeasures.

Currently, talks are underway for a film adaptation of one of my novels and for a publication in the United States, but both are not expected to materialize until the year after next.

I hope to continue writing science-based novels in the future, but who knows what will happen.