by Guy Salvidge
“Do you have any information about my parents?”
“Yes, it seems that your father died in 2089 of heart disease, and that your mother perished the following year in an institution. They were quite elderly, I gather.”
“2090,” Kai Sen murmured. “The same year that payment stopped.”
“Yes,” Silex said. “It seems they did everything they could for you. I am privileged to bear witness to such a display of family honour. It can be said that your parents gave you the gift of life for a second time, that they gave their lives so that you might live again. Do not throw this opportunity away, Kai Sen. You can live again; I promise you this.”
“I can live again, providing I agree to be your spokesperson,” Kai Sen clarified.
“Correct.”
“It still seems terrible to lie to them. Haven't the peasants suffered enough?”
“You are coming around. I can see that. Is it so terrible to be shielded from the truth? Isn't it more awful to be confronted with the conditions of one's existence? Imagine you knew your own future—would you be able to continue living? No, it is the unknown that gives us life. The unknown future, and the hidden present. It would be a service to them. You can help to soothe their fears. And besides, it's not like you've been entirely honest with the peasants anyway.”
“What do you mean? I haven't lied to them.”
Silex read from a sheet, smirking:
“The Grand Arbiter of Shulao and his ceremonial gown. The Supraluminal Council. The helmet of holy communion. Really, this is amusing stuff! What do you call that? Telling the truth?”
“I did that to help the Chens,” Kai Sen insisted.
“Ah, so you will lie to help someone, but you don't want to have to feel guilty.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“Not at all. But my point is that in working for me, you would be helping people. You can provide a service, not only to me, but to the people of the Outer Shield. You can help to foster improved relations between the two groups.”
“You make a strong case,” Kai Sen admitted. “I will have to consider your proposal.”
“I am not accustomed to waiting,” Silex warned. “You shall be returned to your room; I shall expect an answer from you within twenty-four hours. You can inform Shu Wen of your decision. Have you anything further to say?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Then I bid you farewell.” Silex left the room, and shortly afterwards Kai Sen himself was whisked away.
*
Fog filled Kai Sen's mind, preventing organised thought. What should he do? How could he resist Silex's plans for him? And yet resistance remained—a hard stubborn kernel. It was late in the afternoon and Kai Sen had been sitting in his room for hours, trying to make his decision. And yet enlightenment eluded him. He could not decide.
Silex had said that it was a simple choice between life and death. Was it really so straightforward as this? How could Kai Sen penetrate the fortress of lies?
Question after question, but no answers. Kai Sen got up from the bed and went into the bathroom. His reflection stared back at him, gloomy and tired. “You look terrible,” he said to himself. “You aren't well.” He had been pushing the illness to one side, burying the thought of it at the back of his mind, but it kept returning. And each time it returned, the sickness was slightly worse. How much longer did he have? Could Silex's doctors really cure him?
- You overestimate your own importance, his reflection said. Your refusal would offer Silex only a slight setback. He will find another spokesperson, even if he has to dig one up himself.
- No, that's wrong, he told the mirror. I am responsible for my own actions and no one else's. It is cowardly to deny personal blame by saying that my actions don't matter.
- What would your parents want? They would want you to live. They would hate to think that you would throw your life away after the sacrifice they made.
- Wrong again. They would want me to conduct myself with honour. Where is the honour in behaving deceitfully to gain favour?
- Silex will kill you. He might even torture you.
- I know. But we must do what is right.
- But you don't know what's right! You can't decide.
“That's true,” Kai Sen said aloud. “It's a conundrum.” He went back into the bedroom and stood near the bed. Bored, he opened the compartment and looked at the silver mask on its hook. He picked it up and held it in his hands. It's like the dilemma of whether to wear the mask, he decided. Do you do something even though you know it's wrong, or do you reject it, even if it seems like there's no alternative? Should he sit here indefinitely, staring at the blank walls, or should he enjoy himself in a sleek virtual world?
I can't sit here forever, he realised. Boredom will get the better of me in the end. How long could he resist? But he wouldn't sit here forever, should he reject Silex's proposal. If Silex didn't claim him, then the illness would. Was that what he wanted? Death? The truth, the actual truth, was that he didn't know. He just didn't know what to do.
Suddenly, for the first time in days, his mind cleared. The fog lifted. He did have a valuable role to play, and it had been staring him in the face all along.
He began to breathe more freely, as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. He laughed as he put the silver mask back on its hook. Then he got out the communicator he had been given and opened it. At first the screen was blank, but then Shu Wen's face came up.
“You've decided?” she asked.
“I've made my decision,” Kai Sen said.
Part Three
Chapter Eleven
Liang, eager to find out what had become of Kai Sen, spread the news to his family at the dinner table: “He's going to be a speaker at the Autumn Symposium! So he's alive, at least!”
The Chens had been perplexed by Kai Sen's seizure at the west gate, but there had been more pressing matters to attend to. For a week, Kai Sen had barely been mentioned. Liang had been dying to ask Father about it, but had refrained. Tuan had busied himself with tending his crops, and life had begun to settle back down into its familiar routine. Liang hated every minute of it, but what was he to do? These were the conditions of his existence.
Only Ji Tao demonstrated enthusiasm at his news. “Did they say why he was arrested?” she asked.
“No, nothing about that. But I guess he's not in trouble, considering they want him to speak. What do you think, Father?”
Tuan shrugged. “I haven't been to the Autumn Symposium in years, and I don't intend to go this year.”
“Don't you want to hear what he has to say?”
“I'm too busy.”
Liang was amazed. Kai Sen, the sleeper from beyond the grave, was going to speak at one of the most prestigious events on the social calendar, and his own father wasn't interested! He wasn't even slightly curious.
“I'll come with you,” Ji Tao said. “When is it?”
“Day after tomorrow. What about you, Sovann?”
“Will there be drinks?” she asked.
“Probably.”
“All right, I'll come. Did you find out what he's supposed to be talking about? Not the journey from Shulao, I hope. I don't want to hear about that again.”
“He's giving an overview of his experiences to date,” Liang replied. “Whatever that means.”
“I'll be interested in hearing what he has to say,” Ji Tao said.
The Autumn Symposium was usually a dreary affair, and Liang would not normally dream of attending it. Sovann had taken the opportunity to buy a new dress for the event, but Ji Tao wore the same plain jeans and sweater that she always did. Liang could not help but comment on Sovann's beauty, but nor could he fail to register her apparent coolness toward him. The event was held in an old school hall in East District. When Liang, Ji Tao and Sovann arrived shortly before seven, it was already getting dark. The hall was packed, and they struggled to find a place to sit. The Symposium had already started.
“Has Kai Sen been on yet?” Liang asked someone.
“Who?”
“The sleeper.”
“Oh, him. No, they've got a government man on now. He's trying to bore us to death.”
The government official was droning on about crop yields in a dull monotone. People were shifting restlessly on their cramped plastic chairs.
“I thought you said there'd be drinks,” Sovann whispered, nudging him.
“Maybe at the interval.”
The government man ended rather abruptly and left the stage to lacklustre applause. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Another speaker came onto the stage, a young woman wearing the biggest earrings Liang had ever seen. What was she on about? Fashion advice. Liang groaned and tried to tune her out. This was a mistake.
“Excuse me,” Liang said, shuffling along the aisle. “Sorry.”
In the foyer, Liang found a program of events. Kai Sen was going to be on next. There was just enough time to find a drinks vendor, buy something for the three of them, and return to his seat. By the time he got back, the woman with the big earrings was packing up her wares and leaving the stage.
“What did you get?” Sovann asked.
“It's just a soda,” Liang replied.
Sovann glared at him. “I can't believe I got dressed up for this!”
Kai Sen looked every bit like a government man, dressed as he was in a green tunic. This annoyed Liang. What made him so special anyway? But Kai Sen looked pale. Perhaps he was nervous.
“Good evening, citizens of Baitang,” Kai Sen began stiffly. “I have been asked to speak to you tonight about my experiences. As you might know, I was recently revived from my chamber under the city of Shulao, where I had been sleeping for almost three hundred years.”
That got the crowd's attention. “Three hundred years?” someone whispered. “That's not possible.”
“It is,” Liang assured the man. “Listen.”
“I was found by some residents of Baitang, the Chen family. I wonder if they are in the audience tonight?”
Liang stood up; hundreds of pairs of eyes turned his way. “I'm here, as are Ji Tao and Sovann. Father sends his regards.” Then he sat down again.
“I cannot express the depth of my gratitude to the Chens,” Kai Sen said. “Thank you again. Now I would like to speak of my harrowing experience at being woken in Shulao, which is of course a dead city. You can imagine the shock I felt at discovering that the city I had lived in had been destroyed!”
Wait a minute, was Kai Sen reading from a script? He kept looking down at the podium, then back up at the audience. As Kai Sen's speech went on, Liang became angry. It was a pack of lies. There was no mention of the scavengers that had harassed them in Shulao, nor of the shady role Bao Min had played. And Kai Sen completely glossed over what had happened in Luihang on market day. Instead, his speech was full of empty platitudes about the beauty of Four Rivers and the kindness of its rulers!
“And when I got to Baitang, I was even more impressed,” Kai Sen said. “You are lucky to live in such a wonderful city with such modern amenities. You must be pleased to have such an enlightened leader as Administrator Silex.”
Then there was a pause, a shuffling of papers. People in the audience talked among themselves, making jokes at Kai Sen's expense. They could see that he had been employed to spin lies to make the government look good.
“Now I am going to talk to you about Baitang Inner Shield, and how the standard of living there is only slightly higher than among the general populace.” Liang suddenly got the feeling that Kai Sen was looking directly at him, as though about to deliver a personal message. Liang shook his head in disgust; he'd heard just about enough of this.
“I have been instructed to inform you that the citizens of the Inner Shield are not that much better off than you, that they work just as hard as you do for similar rewards. Unfortunately, this is incorrect. The citizens of the Inner Shield have a standard of living many times higher than your own. They live in a life of luxury, and as far as I can tell, they do little work. If they do work, then it is far less onerous then the backbreaking labour endured by your own children.
“I'll tell you what I've seen,” Kai Sen said. He had the audience's full attention now. “Look around you. Look at this hall. Let me tell you something: this hall would not have been fit to stable pigs in my time. Do you know what year it is? The real year is 2362. Do you want to know how your masters live? They live like kings. You think you are free men and free women, but you are slaves.”
The crowd was silent, in a state of shock. Was Kai Sen to be believed? Why would he fabricate such a lie as this? There were a couple of government men standing near the door, whispering furiously into their communicators, but for the moment they took no action.
“There's more,” Kai Sen said. “Not only have you been enslaved, but you have been cheated as well. The people of the Inner Shield are all either sleepers or the sons and daughters of sleepers. That is why none of you have ever been inside the Inner Shield. Ask yourself this: what have they got to hide from you? The answer is that they have much to hide. They have infiltrated your organisations, your societies and your government. They are your government now. What rights do you have in this society? None. Do you own the land you till or the grain you harvest? No. It belongs to them.”
Now the government men were approaching the stage amidst a symphony of boos from the crowd. Things were about to turn hostile; Liang could feel the resentment building up around him. Sensing this, the officials stopped short of stepping onto the stage.
“There is so much more I could tell you, my friends, but I'm almost out of time,” Kai Sen said. “Understand me when I say that I am putting my life in grave jeopardy to give you this information. I doubt that you will hear from me again. Very shortly, the guards will arrest me. Do not try to resist them for now. After they have taken me, you should return to your families and friends. Tell them what I have said. You must realise that the government needs you—they might kill some of you but they can't afford to kill you all.”
Now a larger contingent of helmeted guards, dressed in body armour and armed with pulse rifles, began to file into the hall. “Don't try to attack them!” Kai Sen pleaded. “They will slaughter you if you try to mob them! Go back to your families! Leave peacefully!” And then he was set upon and brutally silenced by the guards. Any final words of his were drowned out in the rising din.
Now there was confusion as several things began to happen at once: one of the organisers of the Autumn Symposium was trying to get the attention of the crowd, but no one was listening; the guards were being jeered at as they frogmarched Kai Sen out of the hall; and dozens of people were rushing toward the exits, creating a logjam of bodies.
“We'll be stampeded!” Sovann said. The crowd surged toward them, chairs clattering to the ground.
“Over there,” Ji Tao said, pointing to the toilets. The three of them pushed their way to comparative safety. Some others had had a similar idea but the vast majority were trying to get away as quickly as possible. There was an air of frenzied desperation. Sensing this, the guards retreated into the corners of the hall, rifles at the ready. Soon the mob was outside and the guards began to herd the rest of them out.
“We're going, we're going!” Sovann said. “Let us through.”
“Stay close,” Liang warned. “Don't get separated.”
It was pandemonium outside. Night had fallen, and the officials were trying to turn the sea of bodies back so that the tear-drop cars could pass. But the crowd was turning violent. Someone started throwing rocks at the lightly-armed officials, who ducked for cover. Liang caught a glimpse of Kai Sen trapped in an amber bubble. More guards were arriving in armoured vehicles.
“Let's get out of here!” Liang shouted. “They'll start shooting soon!”
But escape proved difficult. People were running in every direction, some trying to flee, others preparing to fight. Finally they were able t
o slip away onto a cobbled path.
Then the first shots were fired. Liang could not distinguish the screams of the injured from those of the enraged. In their haste, Liang, Sovann and Ji Tao had headed off in the wrong direction. Now they would need to work their way around to the north. By the time they had found the north road, the crowd had been left far behind.
“What should we do?” Ji Tao asked.
“We must tell Father,” Liang said.
“They'll probably come after us,” Sovann said. “You shouldn't have got up, Liang. Now they know who we are.”
“Let's see what Father says.”
“Maybe we'd be safe in Luihang,” Ji Tao said.
“Don't count on it.”
By the time they reached the farm, it was pitch black outside. The front door was closed, but they could see light coming from Tuan's study. He wasn't in bed yet. They shuffled inside quietly, as Rong Li was already asleep.
Candles burned dimly in the kitchen. Ji Tao and Sovann sat down at the table and Liang knocked on the study door.
“Come in,” Tuan said.
Father was sitting at his desk, as he often did in the evenings. He was reading from the Book of Changes. Seeing his son, Tuan put the book down and invited Liang to sit alongside him.