by Xu, Lei
He'd touched upon one of the knottiest of geological questions: Was this stone's porous exterior formed by the water at the spot where it was found, or was it shaped somewhere else and carried into the abyss? We could labor for months on this issue alone. Just hearing it raised made my head hurt. Acid runoff from the dam might have drained into the abyss and soaked it porous, but it was equally likely the acid had washed over the stone before it got swept down into the abyss. The problem hinged on He Ruping's reason for picking it up. Was he trying to tell us the bottom of the abyss was covered in strong acid? But the edges of the stone's many holes were worn smooth. Clearly no acid had touched it for a long time. The man had been burning alive in a pitch-black hell. How could he have managed to identify this stone as an exemplar of acidic corrosion?
And He Ruping's wounds were from scalding, not acid. The only thing that really made sense was Old Tian's notion of the significance of where the stone was found. First, he conjectured that the abyssal end of the steel cable was anchored near a geothermal hotspot. Next he pointed out that anywhere the underground flowed would most likely maintain a relatively low temperature. So, he concluded, He Ruping's reason for picking up this water-washed stone was to tell us that the abyssal course of the underground river was safe and that the only reason he survived was because he'd dropped from the cable directly into the water.
Pei Qing's position was entirely opposite. "Given our depth underground," he said, "there are probably open cracks at the bottom of the abyss revealing lakes of liquid hot magma. When the underground river water rushes over these cracks it becomes superheated and puts off a layer of steam hot enough to sear human flesh on contact. The higher the steam rises, the cooler it becomes, eventually turning into mist. The lowest levels never even begin to cool off. Blanketed by this dense layer of mist, they just grow hotter and hotter."
Here Pei Qing noted that He Ruping had previously been an iron and steel worker and so was accustomed to laboring in high-temperature environments. Not only would he be more resistant to heat, he would also know a few things about how to survive in such situations. The burns on He Ruping's right palm were much less severe than those on the rest of his body, meaning the stone must have remained cool, or at least cooler than much of the abyssal bottom. This, Pei Qing argued, was the very reason the stone was brought back. In the midst of this hellish environment, He Ruping had happened upon a comparative cool spot. He had grabbed the stone to alert us of its existence.
"Then how do you explain He Ruping's full body burns?" asked one of Old Tian's students.
"Those didn't happen until after he left the safe zone and headed back up the cable," came Old Tian's reply. "Some of the others are probably still alive down there, trapped wherever he found the stone. That's why he came back, to tell us that survival is possible, and that the others need our help."
Old Tian's student was undaunted. "But why didn't they fire a signal flare?"
A man who appeared to be one of the head engineering soldiers spoke up in response. "If Engineer Pei is right, then with all the humidity down there a flare would never fire."
I had to admire Pei Qing. His victory seemed practically assured. In school I loved refuting my professors' opinions and I'd never lost the fighting spirit. Pei Quing's deductions were all highly logical and they made Old Tian's half-formed guesses seem all the more implausible in comparison.
Now Pei Qing turned to the officers overseeing the meeting. "I recommend that as soon as the river level drops, we immediately close the dam's sluice gates. Once all the water has drained from the abyss, the mist will quickly thin out. This is why the Japanese built the dam. The only way to enter the abyss is to stop the flow of water. And to demonstrate how confident I am in my proposal, I am willing to personally lead a team into the abyss."
"No doubt," scoffed Old Tian, standing off to the side. "Young people are always willing to rashly throw their lives away. But since we remain unclear on what is actually happening down there, I advise that we wait and discuss the matter further."
"People are probably still alive down there," said Pei Qing. "We don't have time to wait. I'm confident in my opinion and willing to pay with my life if I'm wrong. But you, Old Tian, your problem is simple: you're scared."
"I'm a scientist," said Old Tian, his face turning red, "not a daredevil who's going to gamble on some hunch!"
The officers chairing the meeting glanced at each other. Then one of them adjourned the meeting, saying they had matters to discuss. Old Tian was finished. They'd ended the meeting to give him a way out. Pei Qing knew this as well. As he left the tent his face broke into a rare smile.
I had half a mind to go congratulate him. These graybeards had been pushing us around from the start, dictating everything and telling us nothing. Although I wouldn't normally approve of the insulting way Pei Qing had spoken to Old Tian, in this instance it seemed well deserved. But I knew that showing my support right now would be looking for trouble. It would be like sticking another knife in Old Tian's wound. Sooner or later he'd find a way to return the favor. So upon leaving the tent, we all dropped our heads and walked off in separate directions.
Before I'd gone 10 steps Pei Qing called after me. I looked back to see him striding towards me. Off to the side, Old Tian and his underlings were already gazing darkly in my direction. My heart sank. I was still wondering whether I should just keep walking when Pei Qing threw his arm around me and began leading me toward an empty part of camp. His hand was covered in chalk, leaving a white five-fingered print on my sleeve. His grip was immensely strong. I had no idea what he wanted with me.
"What the hell are you up to?" I asked him.
"How'd you think I did just now? Who'd you believe, me or Old Tian?"
After looking behind us to make sure no one could hear, I pointed at him and, in a low voice, said, "You."
"Good." He didn't seem surprised at all. "Then would you be willing to do me a favor?"
"What kind of favor?" I asked, frowning.
"I need someone to accompany me into the abyss, and you're my top choice."
"What about the engineering soldiers?" I asked. "Wouldn't you rather take one of them? I'm sure that's who they're going to send with you."
"Then I will refuse. They don't need to risk their lives on my behalf. Enough of them have died already. We prospectors might seem more valuable, but in reality they're worth a lot more."
The nerve of this guy. This was some favor. "Why should I go risking my life?" I said, laughing. "What the hell do I owe you?"
Pei Qing smiled. "That's not what I meant. Actually, I'm almost positive my deduction is correct, but the unforeseen can always occur and the descent will be dangerous no matter what. I need someone I can trust."
"Then why not ask Wang Sichuan?"
"You know he doesn't like me, and anyway he's too impulsive. By now you must have realized that I don't normally get along well with other people. Well, out of everyone here you're the only one I admire. There are some things you do even better than me."
"That's nice of you," I said, knowing I was still going to refuse, "but it's not yet time for me to get involved. I'm sorry. As for those things you're referring to, they were probably just luck."
Pei Qing's expression didn't change. He didn't seem at all put off by my refusal. "Why don't you think about it?" he suggested.
I laughed and shook my head. Not now and not ever, I said to myself. I can still complete this mission without putting my life on the line. I knew that once the situation down below was clearer our task would no longer be so dangerous. This wasn't cowardice speaking; I just didn't think I had to be the one to take this risk, especially when it was only to prove Pei Qing's theory.
I hadn't walked more than a few steps before he was back. This time no one else was around, so I no longer had to be so careful about my choice of words. "I will go into the abyss," I said, "just not this time. But if you're so certain your theory is correct, why not just go by yourself?
Or I'm sure the on-site commander would accompany you if you wanted."
"I wasn't coming back to press you. I understand why you don't want to go, and from the start I didn't think I'd be able to convince you. I just wanted to give it a try." He handed me a cigarette. Something fishy was going on. He wasn't behaving like himself today. After lighting our cigarettes, he continued speaking. "I wanted to give you some advice before my descent. Yuan Xile is a high-ranking woman—in the military and in society. At this point you two are not well-matched and you won't have many opportunities to win her over."
The son of a bitch knew. I felt my face go hot with anger. How the hell had he found out? It wasn't like he normally paid me much attention. "I already said I'd be joining you down there sooner or later. As for Yuan Xile and I, that's none of your business."
"If I die down there," he said, "then the mission could very well be canceled and everyone will go their separate ways. I'll let you decide what's best." Before I could say anything in response, he began walking away, saying, "She'll be married soon, but you already knew that, didn't you?"
I was too stunned to reply. Was this a threat, or was he still trying to persuade me? The moment he'd spoken her name my heart had seized up in pain, but she was no longer my business. I found Pei Qing's excitement to enter the abyss more than a little strange, but it wasn't just posturing. I could tell he'd made up his mind. Now all he had to do was find the right partner.
What was he thinking? For an instant I considered chasing down Pei Qing and telling him I'd do it, but I held myself back.
CHAPTER
32
Face to Face
While playing cards after dinner that night, Wang Sichuan asked me what Pei Qing had wanted, so I told him the whole story. As soon as I finished he became indignant. I knew he was angry Pei Qing had chosen me over him. Wang Sichuan had always felt that, when it came to self-defense and skill with one's hands, he was clearly my superior. For the most part he was right, but Pei Qing wasn't looking for a bodyguard. What he needed was someone with good judgment, someone who could adapt to the unexpected.
I realized now that Pei Qing had been figuring all this out since the moment we were saved. He was like a deer in the headlights when a situation was at its most dangerous. His instinctive reaction was to sit and think. But when faced with a speeding car, the crux of the matter is not whether diving one way is better than diving the other. It is, in that instant, are you able to stop thinking and move? Wang Sichuan, despite how he might appear, was actually a very smart and attentive man, but his emotions too often got the better of him.
Pei Qing was right to choose me. I'd always had my own way of doing things and had never needed a textbook to guide me. This was more than could be said for most of my comrades. Although I made the golden mean my rule—remaining moderate in all things—as soon as a situation called for it, I could toss all that out the window. I was just the kind of person China needed in those years—someone who, at the critical moment, could drop all pretense of doing things the accepted way and do them the way they needed to be done.
Yuan Xile's impending marriage continued to linger in my mind. I wondered if she would be impressed if I descended into the abyss. At the very least, I hoped it would leave a deep enough impression that she would never forget me, that she might even feel indebted to me. This is the kind of thinking that makes men behave like fools. What was the difference if Yuan Xile remembered me or not? Her future was fixed. She wasn't going to choose me no matter what I did. At this very moment she was probably pressed close to her fiancé's chest, completely unaware of all of my ridiculous ideas. And I knew that in a few years I would probably fall in love with someone else. Why not give myself a little time?
I paid no attention to my cards and soon my face was covered in strips of paper. For some reason this only increased Wang Sichuan's anger. By now the guy was really pissing me off, so I tossed my cards to the table. "I need to go get some air," I said. "You guys keep playing."
A crowd of people had been waiting to join since the beginning. As soon as I got up someone had already taken my place. Wang Sichuan glared at me and cursed, but the tent was too full of noise for me to hear him. I found a quiet place beside the underground river and sat down on a wooden crate to smoke. Every now and then I would absentmindedly flick my ash into the water. After a little while I heard movement from the river beside me. Startled, I leapt to my feet. A white shape rose out of the river. It was a man, pale as a ghost and completely naked. He glared at me. It was Ivan.
"You flicked your cigarette ash onto my head," he said.
His Chinese wasn't bad. He had a thick Russian accent, but he spoke clearly and was easy to understand. I relaxed. "I didn't see you," I said, happy to stop searching my brain for the few words of Russian I still knew. "What were you doing down there?"
"Bathing. Can't you tell?" He plucked a wash cloth from the water and wiped the ash from his head.
The river was so cold that even from here I wanted to shiver, but the Soviet just stood there, pink with chill and seeming not to care at all. "You're not scared of getting sick?" I asked.
He didn't reply, just wrung out his towel, draped it around his neck, grabbed the iron handrail nearby and pulled himself out of the water. He was totally unaffected by the cold. I doubted he'd even call it cold at all. "I've heard you Chinese take only two showers in a lifetime," he said.
"That's the Mongolians," I replied. Wang Sichuan was giving us all a bad name.
He laughed. "I was kidding, though it does seem like you prefer hot water."
I nodded. I hated this guy. For a second I almost turned around and walked off. We passed the next few moments in silence. He retrieved his clothing from a nearby wooden crate and got dressed. Then a sudden thought made him pause. He looked up at me. "I know you," he said. I'd wanted to leave as soon as I was done with my cigarette, but now he was walking over to me, an excited look in his eyes. "That's right," he said. "You're the one who saved Xile." He reached out and shook my hand. "I'd been hoping for a more formal occasion to express my gratitude."
You disgusting hairy beast, I said to myself, to hell with your gratitude. Had I known you were up here, Yuan Xile and I would have stayed down there and let you die of worry.
Even fresh from the cold river his hand was burning hot. This guy was obviously in peak condition. "I apologize for not thanking you outside Xile's tent," he said. "No one told me you were the one who saved her."
"Don't worry about it. I was just doing what I could for my comrade."
"I understand, but to me she's more important than anything in the world, so trust that my gratitude is sincere. My name is Ivan."
"So I've heard," I said and, slurring my pronunciation a little, added, "Ivan Shit-for-Brains." He said something in Russian, his expression telling me he hadn't understood. So I did it again. "Ivan Bowl-of-Shit." But there was a limit to how much fun I could have just toying with him and it made me feel rather petty, so I changed the subject. "How did you end up here?" I asked.
"I'm not too sure myself. This place..." He looked around. "There's something almost marvelous about it. I thought I was just coming here to see Xile, but now they want me to stay."
"What did you do in the Soviet Union? Were you some kind of researcher?" I tried handing him a cigarette, but he declined.
"I was in the military, a soldier." He produced a pack of foreign-made cigarettes from his jacket pocket. "Men should smoke these," he said.
"Says who?"
Either he didn't hear the edge to my voice or he didn't care. "Says Xile," he said.
I looked at the pack. Only once before had I smoked a Soviet cigarette. It was extremely strong, something to be enjoyed by those who spend much of their lives in the bitter cold. Unadulterated pick-me-ups are what people like that need most. He handed me a cigarette and I lit up. That's when it hit me; this was my chance to find out what was happening with Yuan Xile. My heart clenched. I felt separated from my bo
dy, no longer in control, but I took this as a challenge. I was face-to-face with my rival for Yuan Xile's love. I would not retreat. This was war and my enemy was my own sense of inferiority. I knew that if I could discuss Yuan Xile with her Soviet fiancé, then I clearly did not fear him. "How is Yuan Xile doing now?" I asked.
He took a deep breath and smiled at me. "She is doing perfectly well," he said. "She's just as lovely as ever, and so to me nothing is the matter. Time, illness, recovery—all these concerns can be brushed aside."
This was not the response I'd expected. Before I could say anything, he'd stubbed out his cigarette, put on his hat, and grasped my hand once more, saying, "I'm so happy I ran into you. I was lucky to sneak away from my guards long enough to take this bath, but I must be getting back soon. I'm not supposed to be speaking with other people."
"Why?" I asked.