by Liu Cixin
120 YEARS LATER
(A MIDDLE-SCHOOL STUDENT’S JOURNAL)
People really were dumb in the past, and they really had a tough time.
Do you know how I know? Today we visited the Mining Museum. What impressed me the most was this:
They had solid coal!
First, we had to put on weird clothing: there was a helmet, which had a light on it, connected by a wire to a rectangular object that we hung at our waists. I thought it was a computer at first (even if it was a little large), but it turned out to be a battery for the light. A battery that big could power a racing car, but they used it for a tiny light. We also put on tall rain boots. The teacher told us this was the uniform that early coal miners used for going down the mines. Someone asked what “down the mines” meant, and the teacher said we’d find out soon enough.
We boarded a metallic, small-gauge segmented vehicle, like an early train, only much smaller and powered by an overhead wire. The vehicle started up and soon we entered the black mouth of a cave. It was very dark inside, with only an occasional dim lamp above us. Our headlamps were weak as well, only enough to make out the faces right beside us. The wind was strong and whistled in our ears; it felt like we were dropping into an abyss.
“We’re going down the mine now, students!” the teacher said.
After a long while, the vehicle stopped. We passed from this relatively wide tunnel into a considerably thinner and smaller spur, and if not for my helmet, I would have knocked a few lumps in my head. Our headlamps created small patches of light but we couldn’t see anything clearly. Students shouted that they were scared.
After a while, the space opened up in front of us. Here the ceiling was supported by lots of columns. Opposite us, there were many points of light shining from lamps like the ones on our helmets. As we drew closer, I saw lots of people were at work, some of them making holes in the cave wall with a long-bore drill. The drills were powered by some sort of engine whose sound made my skin crawl. Other people with metal shovels were shoveling some sort of black material into railcars and leather satchels. Clouds of dust occasionally blocked them, and lanterns cast shafts of light through the dust.
“Students, we’re now in what’s called the ore zone. What you see is a scene of early mining work.”
A few miners came toward us. I knew they were holograms, so I didn’t move out of the way. Some of them passed through me, so I could see them very clearly, and I was astonished.
“Did China hire black people to mine coal?”
“To answer that question,” the teacher said, “we’ll have a real experience of the air of the ore zone. Please take out your breathing masks from your bags.”
We put on our masks, and heard the teacher say, “Please remember that this is real, not a hologram.”
A cloud of black dust came toward us. In the beams from our headlamps I was shocked to see the thick cloud of particles sparkling. Then someone started to scream, and like a chorus, a lot of other kids screamed as well. I turned to laugh at them, but I, too, yelped when I got a look: Everyone was completely black, apart from the portion the masks covered. Then I heard another shout that turned my hair on end: It was the teacher’s voice!
“My god, Seya! You don’t have your mask on!”
Seya hadn’t put on his mask, and now he was as completely black as the holographic miners. “You said over and over in history class that the key goal was to get a feel for the past. I wanted a real feel!” he said, his teeth flashing white on his black face.
An alarm sounded somewhere, and within a minute, a teardrop-shaped micro-hovercar stopped soundlessly in front of us, an unpleasant intrusion of something modern. Two doctors got out. By now, all of the real coal dust had been sucked away, leaving only the holographic dust floating around us, so their white coats stayed spotless as they passed through it. They pulled Seya off to the car.
“Child,” one doctor said, looking straight into his eyes. “Your lungs have been seriously harmed. You’ll have to be hospitalized for at least a week. We’ll notify your parents.”
“Wait!” Seya shouted, his hands fumbling with the rebreather. “Did miners a hundred years ago wear these?”
“Shut your mouth and go to the hospital,” the teacher said. “Why can’t you ever just follow the rules?”
“We’re human, just like our ancestors. Why …”
Seya was shoved into the car before he could finish. “This is the first time the museum has had this kind of accident,” a doctor said severely, pointing at the teacher and adding, before getting into the hovercar, “This falls on you!” The hovercar left as silently as it had come.
We continued our tour. The chastened teacher said, “Every kind of work in the mine was fraught with danger, and required enormous physical energy. For example, these iron supports had to be retrieved after extraction in this zone was completed, in a process called support removal.”
We saw a miner with an iron hammer striking an iron pin in one of the supports, buckling it in two. Then he carried it off. Me and a boy tried to pick up another support that was lying on the ground, but it was ridiculously heavy. “Support removal was a dangerous job, since the roof overhead could collapse at any time …”
Above our heads came scraping sounds, and I looked up and saw, in the light of the mining lanterns, a fissure open up in the rock where the support had just been removed. Before I had time to react, it fell in, and huge chunks of holographic stone fell through me to the ground with a loud crash. Everything vanished in a cloud of dust.
“This accident is called a cave-in,” the teacher’s voice sounded beside me. “Be careful. Harmful stones don’t always come from up above.”
Before she even finished, a section of rock wall next to us toppled over, falling a fair distance in a single piece, as if a giant hand from the ground had pushed it over, before finally breaking up and raining down as individual stones. We were buried under holographic rocks with a crash, and our headlamps went out. Through the darkness and screams, I heard the teacher’s voice again.
“That was a methane outburst. Methane is a gas that builds to immense pressure when sealed in a coal seam. What we saw just now was what happens when the rock walls of the work zone can’t hold back that pressure and are blown out.”
The lights came back on, and we all exhaled. Then I heard a strange sound, at times as loud as galloping horses, sometimes soft and deep, like giants whispering.
“Look out, children! A flood is coming!”
We were still processing what she said when a broad surge of water erupted from a tunnel not far away. It quickly swamped the entire work zone. The murky water reached our knees, and then was waist-high. It reflected the light of our headlamps to shine indistinct patterns on the rocky ceiling. Wooden beams stained black with coal dust floated by, and miners’ helmets and lunch boxes…. When the water reached my chin, I instinctively held my breath. Then I was entirely underwater, and all I could see was a murky brown where my headlamp shone, and air bubbles that sometimes floated up.
“Mine floods have many causes. Whether it’s groundwater, or if the mine has dug into a surface water source, it’s far more life-threatening than a flood above ground,” the teacher said over the sound of the water.
The holographic water vanished and our surroundings returned to normal. Then I noticed an odd-looking object, like a big metal toad puffing out its stomach. It was huge and heavy. I pointed it out to the teacher.
“That’s an anti-explosion switch. Since methane is a highly flammable gas, the switch suppresses the electric sparks that ordinary switches create. That’s related to what we’ll see next, the most terrifying mining danger of all …”
There was another loud crash, but unlike the previous two times, it seemed to come from within us, bursting through our eardrums to the outside, as huge waves contracted our every cell, and in the searing waves of heat, we were plunged into a red glow emitted from the air around us that filled every inch of spac
e in the mine. Then the glow disappeared, and everything plunged into darkness.
“Few people have actually seen a methane explosion, since it’s hard to survive one in the mines.” The teacher’s disembodied voice echoed in the darkness.
“Why did people used to come to such a terrible place?” a student asked.
“For this,” the teacher said, holding a chunk of black rock into the light from our headlamps, where its innumerable facets sparkled. That was the first time I saw solid coal.
“Children, what we just saw was a mid-twentieth-century coal mine. There were a few new machines and technologies after that, such as hydraulic struts and huge shearers, which went into use in the last two decades of the century and improved conditions somewhat for the workers, but coal mines remained an incredibly dangerous, awful working environment. Until …”
It turned dull after that. The teacher lectured us on the history of gasified coal, which was put to use eighty years ago, when oil was nearly exhausted and major powers mobilized troops to seize the remaining oil fields. The Earth was on the brink of war, but it was gasified coal that saved the world…. We all knew this, so it was boring.
Then we toured a modern mine. Nothing special, just all those pipes we see every day, leading out from underground into the distance, although it was the first time I went inside a central control building and saw a hologram of the burn. It was huge. And we saw the neutrino sensors and gravity-wave radar monitoring the underground fire, and laser drills … all pretty boring, too.
The teacher recounted the history of the mine, and said that over a century ago, it had been destroyed in an uncontrolled fire that burned for eighteen years before going out. In those days our beautiful city was a wasteland where smoke blotted out the sky, and all the people had left. There were many stories of the cause of the fire; some people said it had been started by an underground weapons test, and others said it was connected to Greenpeace.
We don’t have to be nostalgic for the so-called good old days. Life in those days was dangerous and confusing. But we shouldn’t be depressed about today, either. Because today will one day be referred to as the good old days.
People really were stupid in the past, and they really had a tough time.
1 The Ministry of Coal Industries was abolished in 1998, some of its functions replaced by the State Administration for Coal Industries.
2 The highest of eight working-class wage levels adopted nationwide in the 1950s.
CONTRACTION
TRANSLATED BY JOHN CHU
The contraction will start one hour, twenty-four minutes, seventeen seconds before sunrise.
It will be observed in the auditorium of the country’s largest astronomical observatory. The auditorium will receive images sent back from a space telescope in geosynchronous orbit, then project them onto a gigantic screen about the size of a basketball court. Right now, the screen is still blank. There aren’t many people here, but they are all authorities in theoretical physics, astrophysics, and cosmology, the few people in the world who can truly understand the implications of the moment to come. Waiting for that moment, they sit still, like Adam and Eve, having just been created from mud, waiting for the breath of life from God. The exception is the observatory head, impatiently pacing back and forth.
The gigantic screen isn’t working and the engineer responsible for maintaining it hasn’t shown up yet. If she doesn’t show up in time, the image coming from the space telescope can be projected only on the small screen. The historic sense of the moment will be ruined.
Professor Ding Yi walks into the hall.
The scientists all come to life. They stand in unison. Aside from the universe itself, only he can hold them all in awe.
As usual, Ding Yi holds everyone beneath his notice. He doesn’t greet anyone and he doesn’t sit in the large, comfortable chair prepared for him. Instead, he strolls aimlessly until he reaches a corner of the auditorium, where there’s a large glass cabinet. He admires the large clay plate, one of the observatory head’s local treasures, propped up inside. It’s a priceless relic of the Western Zhou era. Carved onto its surface is a star atlas as seen by the naked eye on a summer night several thousand years ago. Having suffered the ravages of time, the star atlas is now faint and blurred. The starry sky outside the hall, though, is still bright and clear.
Ding Yi digs out a pipe and tobacco from his jacket pocket. Self-assured, he lights the pipe, then takes a puff. This surprises everyone, because he has severe tracheitis. He’s never smoked before and no one has ever dared to smoke around him. Furthermore, smoking is strictly prohibited in the auditorium, and that pipe produces more smoke than ten cigarettes.
However, Professor Ding is entitled to do anything he wants. He founded the unified field theory, realizing Albert Einstein’s dream. The series of predictions his theory has made about space over a vast scale have all been confirmed by actual observations. For three years, as many as a hundred supercomputers ran a mathematical model of the unified field theory nonstop and obtained a result that was hard to believe: The universe that had been expanding for about fourteen billion years would, in two years, start collapsing. Now, out of those two years, there’s only one hour left.
White smoke lingers around his head. It forms a dreamlike pattern, as if his incredible ideas are floating out of his mind….
Cautiously, the observatory head approaches Ding Yi. “Professor Ding, the governor will be here. Persuading her to accept the invitation wasn’t easy. Please, I beg you, use the influence you have so that she’ll increase our funding. Originally, we weren’t going to bother you with this, but the observatory is out of funds. The national government can’t give us any more money this year. We can only ask the province. We are the main observatory for the country. You can see what we’ve been reduced to. We can’t even afford the electric bill for our radio telescope. We’re already trying now to figure out what to do about this.” The observatory head points to the ancient star atlas plate Ding Yi has been admiring. “If selling antiquities weren’t illegal, we would have sold it long ago.”
At that moment, the governor and her entourage of two enter the auditorium. The exhaustion on their faces drags a thread of the mundane into this otherworldly place.
“My apologies. Oh. Hello, Professor Ding. Everyone. So sorry for being late. This is the first time it hasn’t been pouring outside in days. We’re still worried about flooding. The Yangtze River is close to its 1998 record high.”
Excitedly, the observatory head welcomes the governor and brings her to Ding Yi. “Why don’t we have Professor Ding introduce you to the idea of universal contraction….” He winks at Ding Yi.
“Why don’t I first explain what I understand, then Professor Ding and everyone else can correct me. First, Hubble discovered redshifts. I don’t remember when. The electromagnetic radiation that we measure from a galaxy is shifted toward the red end of the spectrum. This means, according to the Doppler effect, galaxies are receding from us. From that, we can draw this conclusion: The universe is expanding. We can also draw another conclusion: About fourteen billion years ago, the big bang brought the universe into being. If the total mass of the universe is less than some value, the universe will continue to expand forever; if it is greater than that value, then gravity will gradually slow the expansion until it stops and, eventually, gravity will cause it to contract. Previous measurements of the amount of mass in the universe suggested the first alternative. Then we discovered that neutrinos have mass. Moreover, we discovered a vast amount of previously undetected dark matter in the universe. This greatly increased the amount of mass in the universe and people changed their minds in favor of the other alternative, that the universe will expand ever more slowly until it finally starts to contract. All the galaxies in the universe will begin to gather at the gravitational center. At the same time, due to the same Doppler effect, we will see a shift in stars’ electromagnetic radiation toward the blue end of the spectrum, namely a bluesh
ift. Now, Professor Ding’s unified field theory has calculated the exact moment the universe will switch from expansion to contraction.”
“Brilliant!” The observatory head claps his hands a few times flatteringly. “So few leaders have such an understanding of fundamental theory. I bet even Professor Ding thinks so.” He winks again at Ding Yi.
“What she said is basically correct.” Ding Yi slowly knocks the ash from his pipe onto the carpet.
“Right, right. If Professor Ding thinks so—” The observatory head beams with happiness.
“Just enough to show her superficiality.” Ding Yi digs more tobacco out of his coat pocket.
The observatory head freezes. The scientists around him titter.
The governor smiles tolerantly. “I also majored in physics, but the last thirty years, I’ve forgotten practically all of it. Compared to you all here, my knowledge of physics and cosmology, I’m afraid, isn’t even superficial. Hell, I only remember Newton’s three laws.”
“But that’s a long way from understanding it.” Ding Yi lights his newly filled pipe.
The observatory head shakes his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
“Professor Ding, we live in two completely different worlds.” The governor sighs. “My world is a practical one. No poetry. Bogged down with details. We spend our days bustling around like ants, and like ants, our view is just as limited. Sometimes, when I leave my office at night, I stop to look up at the stars. A luxury that’s hard to come by. Your world is brimming with wonder and mystery. Your thoughts stretch across hundreds of light-years of space and billions of years of time. To you, the Earth is just a speck of dust in the universe. To you, this era is just an instant in time too short to measure. The entire universe seems to exist to satisfy your curiosity and fulfill your existence. To be frank, Professor Ding, I truly envy you. I dreamed of this when I was young, but to enter your world was too difficult.”