The Wandering Earth: Classic Science Fiction Collection by Liu Cixin

by Cixin Liu

  Later, Ah Quan learned that the material used in this so-called “nano-mirror-membrane” had been the result of Lu Hai's research. He had applied for a patent and invested all he had to fund it, hoping to bring products made with the nano-mirror-membrane to market. Unfortunately, no one was really interested in his wares, including the portable solar-cooker, and he ended up losing almost everything. Now, he was down to borrowing money from Ah Quan just to pay the rent. But even having fallen so far, he still remained relentlessly upbeat. Every day he would run circles around the city, seeking opportunities for his new material. He told Ah Quan this was the thirteenth city he had passed through on his mission.

  Other than his solar-cooker, Lu Hai also carried a small sheet of his nano-mirror-membrane. Normally, he kept it on a nightstand, where it lay like a silver handkerchief. Every morning before heading out for the day, he would switch on a small power unit and the membrane would immediately harden to a thin, highly reflective plate. Lu Hai then proceeded to use it as a mirror as he tidied himself up for the outside world.

  One morning, as he was using it to help him comb his hair, he gave Ah Quan a sidelong glance. “You should really pay more attention to your appearance,” he noted. “Just give your face a regular scrubbing and tidy-up your hair once in a while. And then there are your clothes; can't you spend a little on some new outfits?”

  Ah Quan took the mirror and gave himself a once over. Having had a look, he smilingly shook his head. As a shoe-shiner, there really was no point in going to all that trouble.

  Leaning toward him, Lu Hai would not be dissuaded. “Modern society is full of opportunities and the sky is flocking with birds of gold. Someday you might reach up and seize one of them. But for that to happen, you must first learn to take yourself seriously.”

  Ah Quan turned his head, looking all about, but he could not spot one bird of gold. Shaking his head, he glumly admitted, “That goes right over my head. I don't have much of an education.”

  “Do not get me wrong; that is very regrettable, but who knows? In the end, it might turn out to your advantage. This age is great precisely because nothing is certain and miracles can happen to anyone,” Lu Hai mused.

  “You,” Ah Quan said, still unable to completely wrap his head around the concept, “went to college, am I right?”

  “I have a doctor in solid state physics, but I resigned my professorship,” Lu Hai replied.

  Even long after Lu Hai had left, Ah Quan remained in a blank-eyed stupor. Finally, he shook his head. If a person like Lu Hai could run through 13 cities without catching a bird of gold, what chances did he have? He figured the guy was probably being self-deprecating; but he, Ah Quan from the farm country, was pitiable and ridiculous enough all by himself.

  That night, while some had already gone to sleep and others were playing a game of poker, Ah Quan and Lu Hai went out. They were off to a small, nearby tearoom to watch some TV. At midnight, the news came on. The screen showed only the anchor speaking; there where no other graphics or footage.

  “This afternoon the State Council convened a press conference to formally launch the China Sun project that has been attracting so much worldwide attention,” the newscaster said. “Following the Great Green Wall that is being planted to arrest the expansion of the Gobi Desert, this will be the next major project that will fundamentally change our country's ecology ...”

  Ah Quan had previously heard of the project and he knew that it involved constructing another sun in the sky above China. This sun would be able to bring more rain to the arid areas of the Northwest. It all sounded very fantastical to Ah Quan. He had taken to asking Lu Hai about such things as he heard about them. This time, however, as he turned with his mouth already poised for the question, he saw that it would fall on deaf ears. Lu Hai was staring at the TV, his mouth hanging agape. It looked like the TV had sucked the wits right out of him. Perplexed, Ah Quan waved his hand in front of his friend’s face, but he garnered no reaction. Only a long time after the news had finished did Lu Hai recover his composure.

  He mumbled, more to himself than Ah Quan: “Why ever did I not think of the China Sun?”

  Ah Quan now stared as blankly as Lu Hai had a moment ago; he could not believe that Lu Hai had been unaware of something that even he had known about. Who in China could not have heard of it?

  Of course he must have known; perhaps it was something he had not thought of until now. How could the China Sun mean anything to Lu Hai, a vagrant living in a stuffy, rundown apartment?

  Lu Hai did nothing to unravel the mystery. “Remember what I told you this morning? Right now a bird of gold came flying right in front of my eyes, and it’s a big one. In fact, it has been circling over my head for a while. Dammit, why didn't I see it?”

  Ah Quan just stared at him. There was no trace of comprehension in his eyes.

  As Lu Hai stood, he declared, “I will go to Beijing! I'll catch the two o'clock train. You should come with me, Quan, my boy!”

  “Go to Beijing? And do what?” Ah Quan asked, even more baffled than he had been a second ago.

  “Beijing is so big, what is there that can't be done? Even if you shine shoes there, you'll make much more than you do here!” Lu Hai shouted enthusiastically.

  So, that same night, Ah Quan and Lu Hai boarded the almost empty train. All night they sped through the vastness of the Western grasslands, rushing toward the rising sun.

  chapter

  3

  Third Goal in Life: Go to a bigger city; See the bigger world; Earn more money.

  When he first saw the capital, Ah Quan realized one thing: Some things one had to see to understand. Imagination sometimes just would not do, and Beijing's nights definitely exceeded anything he could have imagined.

  It was so much brighter than his village or the mine had ever been. It was even brighter than the lights of the provincial capital. As the bus he and Lu Hai had taken from the Beijing West Railway Station drove down Chang'An Avenue, he realized that if he had combined those past lights a thousand times over, still they could not rival Beijing's night. Of course, the lights of Beijing were not really a thousand times brighter than those of the provincial capital, but there was something about them, something that none of the cities out West had, could have, even if he had seen all their lights at once.

  Ah Quan and Lu Hai checked into a cheap basement guest room for the night. On the morning of the second day they parted ways. Before taking his leave, Lu Hai wished Ah Quan all the best. He also told him that if he should ever run into trouble, all he had to do was find him; he would be happy to help. Lu Hai, however, gave Ah Quan neither telephone number nor address. Of course, he currently had neither.

  “How will I find you?” Ah Quan asked.

  “Just wait a while. You will soon just have to watch TV or read the paper, then you'll know where I am,” Lu Hai enigmatically answered.

  Watching Lu Hai as he disappeared into the distance, Ah Quan shook his head in confusion. He could not make heads or tails of what he had just heard: The man was now penniless. Today he had not even been able to afford the guest room and Ah Quan had paid for breakfast. It had been so bad that he had had to give the landlord his solar-cooker. It had been one of the few things that remained from Lu Hai's life before poverty. Now he was a beggar with nothing but a dream.

  After parting ways with Lu Hai, Ah Quan immediately went about looking for a work. At least, that had been his plan, but the shock of the big city soon let him forget all about it. He spent the entire day wandering aimlessly about its streets. It was as if he had walked straight into a fairytale. Getting tired never even occurred to him.

  When night fell, he found himself standing in front of a new symbol of the capital. Before him loomed the 1,650-foot tall Unity Building. It had just been completed last year. He let his eyes wander up that cloud-scraping glass cliff. As the rosy evening clouds slowly darkened, the city's ocean of lights came to life. It was a breathtaking play of light and shadow that left Ah
Quan's neck sore from craning. Just as he was about to leave, the lights of the building began to light up. The incredible force of this spectacular display took complete hold of Ah Quan and he remained, rooted to the spot, staring upward in wonder.

  “You've been staring for a long time now; are you interested in that kind of work?”

  Ah Quan turned, looking to see who had addressed him. It was a young man, dressed like anyone in the city. In his hand, however, he held a yellow hard hat. “What work?” Ah Quan asked in return, confused.

  “What were you just looking at then?” the man asked as he pointed up, the hardhat dangling from his hand.

  Ah Quan lifted his head again, following the man’s finger. To his surprise, he spotted a few people, all the way up that glass cliff. From where he stood they looked like little more than tiny black dots.

  “What are they doing up there?” Ah Quan asked, continuing to carefully observe them. “Are they cleaning the windows?”

  The man nodded. “I am the personnel supervisor of the Blue Sky Building Cleaning Company. For the most part, our company is hired out to clean high-rises. Are you interested in that kind of work?”

  Ah Quan looked back up. Just watching those little, ant-like, black dots made his head spin with vertigo. “That,” he said, gulping, “is too scary.”

  The man would not be dissuaded and started into his pitch. “If you are concerned about your safety, rest assured. Sure, the work looks dangerous and that does make it hard for us to recruit workers. In fact, we are currently rather short-staffed, but our security measures are very thorough and in strict accordance with the regulations. There is absolutely no danger to it. And the work earns higher pay than any similar jobs in this line of work. You could make two-thousand a month and the company will provide for your lunch and will buy accident insurance for you.”

  Ah Quan was completely caught off-guard by the wage he had just been offered. Dumbstruck, he stared at the supervisor.

  The man completely misunderstood his point. “Fine, I'll cancel your probation period and I'll add another three-hundred. It will be a monthly salary of two-thousand three-hundred then, but I really can't go any higher. The basic wage for this kind of work used to be five-hundred, six-hundred yuan, plus a daily bonus for every extra window. Now it’s a fixed salary and a good one by comparison.”

  So, Ah Quan became a high-rise cleaner. He heard that overseas they were known as “Spider-Men”.

  chapter

  4

  Fourth Goal in Life: Become a Beijinger.

  Together with four co-workers, Ah Quan carefully rappelled from the top of the Aerospace Tower. It took them 40 minutes to reach the 83rd floor up to where they had cleaned to yesterday. In the spider-men's line of work, the biggest headache was cleaning slanting walls that met the ground at an angle of less than 90 degrees. The architect responsible for the Aerospace Tower had, in a display of his bizarre creativity, designed the entire building with slanting outer walls. The broad top of the building was supported on the ground by a slender column. That famous architect had said that this upward sloping design reflected the feeling of rising upward. It certainly seemed reasonable and the building had become famous around the world and a symbol for Beijing. That being what it was, the architect and all his ancestors still found their way into rounds of cursing by of all the spider-men of Beijing. For them, cleaning this building was a nightmare. From the ground up to 1,300 feet, the angle was as little as 65 degrees.

  Hanging at his work spot, Ah Quan looked up. Above him he could see the enormous, overhanging glass cliff. It looked like it would collapse down on him at any minute. With one hand he unscrewed the cap of his detergent container. With the other hand he held tightly to the handle of his sucker disk. These sucker disks had been specially designed for window cleaners working on slanting walls. Even so, they were not easy to operate and would often lose their suction, leaving the spider-man swaying next to the wall, held swinging only by their safety rope. These accidents happened often while working on the Aerospace Tower, and every time it did happen, it would frighten the cleaner straight out of his senses. Just yesterday, Ah Quan had seen a fellow lose his suction and swing a good distance out. When he came back in, a strong wind had pushed him right into the wall, shattering a large window. The worker had been left with large gashes on both his forehead and arms. The cost for the expensive, coated, high-quality structural glass plate had set him back an entire year's wages.

  Even though Ah Quan had now worked as a spider-man for more than two years by this time, the job remained a very real challenge. Wind speeds of around five miles per hour at ground level meant winds of 20 miles per hour at 300 feet and at above 1,000 feet, where he was now, it was even stronger still. The danger was obvious and since the beginning of the century a number of spider-men had plummeted to the streets below. In winter these winds would cut like a knife. Winds were by far not the only problem they faced. The hydrofluoric acid solution they usually employed when washing was strong enough to blacken their fingernails and cause them to peel off altogether. To protect themselves from the corrosive power of the solution they had to wear layers of water-proof clothing, head to foot. In the summer this was particularly troublesome. As they wiped the coated windows, the Sun would burn on their backs while its glare on the glass would blind them from the front. It made Ah Quan feel like he had been hung above Lu Hai's solar-cooker.

  Nonetheless, Ah Quan loved the work. In fact, these years had been the happiest time in his entire life. This certainly had to do with the fact that the spider-men were very highly paid when compared to the other low-skilled migrant worker jobs available in the capital. More importantly, however, the work gave him a wonderful sense of fulfillment. He particularly enjoyed a part of the work that his colleagues did their best to avoid: Cleaning newly constructed skyscrapers. All of these buildings were at least 650 feet and the tallest reached 1,650 feet. Hanging off the top of these skyscrapers, all of Beijing stretched out below him.

  The so-called high-rises of the last century looked almost tiny from up there, even if they stood close by; a bit farther away and they became nothing more than bundles of matchsticks jammed into the ground. Even the Forbidden City at the heart of Beijing looked like something made from golden toy blocks. Up here he could not hear the din of Beijing, yet he could survey the entire city with a single glance. It lay below, silently breathing, the web of roads like veins pumping the vital blood of its colossal life.

  At times the skyscraper he was working on would pierce the clouds; the city below could then be dark and drowning in rain while his world would be aglow with splendid sunlight. As the endless ocean of clouds broiled below, Ah Quan would feel as if the powerful winds above passed right through him.

  Experience had taught Ah Quan a maxim: Seen from above, things became much clearer. When the big city swallowed him, everything around him seemed frustratingly complex and Beijing turned into an endless maze. But from high up, the entire city was no more than a large anthill full of more than 10 million people, and the world no longer appeared so vast.

  When he had been paid for the first time, Ah Quan went to one of the big shopping malls. He rode the elevator up to the third level. There he discovered a strange, baffling world. It was nothing like the bustling, crowded floors below. Instead he found a spacious hall. All that he could see in it was a few amazingly large low-standing tables. These massive tabletops were one and all covered by groups of tiny buildings standing no taller than a book. The space between the buildings was as green as grass and interspersed with tiny white pavilions and winding walkways. These tiny buildings seemed to be made of ivory and cheese. In fact, they looked quite lovely and together with their green grass they created an exquisite world. In Ah Quan's eyes this truly was a model of heaven on earth.

  At first he assumed that they were some kind of toys, but he could see no children on the entire floor. On the contrary, all the people looking at the tables did so with stern gravi
ty. Ah Quan stood by the side of a table for a long while. Spellbound, he studied this heaven. His trance was only broken when a beautiful young lady greeted him with a friendly smile. Finally he began to understand what was being sold here.

  Without plan or clear intention, he pointed at one of the buildings and asked how much an apartment on the top floor would cost. The lady told him that it was a three-bedroom apartment and that it cost 1750 yuan per square foot, for a total of 2,650,000 yuan.

  The number elicited an audible gasp from Ah Quan, but the lady softened the cold, hard figure with gentle warmth. “You can pay in monthly installments of 8,000 to 10,000 yuan.”

  He gingerly dared to ask a pertinent question. “I,” he said, swallowing hard before continuing, “I am not a resident of Beijing. Could I still buy it?”

  The young lady smiled softly as she replied. “You're quite the joker. The hukou system of binding you to your registered home was abolished two years ago. And who is to say who is a Beijinger? Doesn't where you live make you a Beijinger?”

  After Ah Quan had left the mall, he wandered the streets aimlessly for many hours. As night fell, the multi-colored lights of Beijing sparkled to life around him. In his hand he held the colorful flier the lady at the mall had given him. Occasionally he would stop to look around; only a few months before he had lived in that simple room in the now so distant West. Back in the provincial capital, even the idea of owning an apartment would have seemed like a fairytale to him. Now, he was still a good means away from owning an apartment in Beijing, but it was no longer a fairytale; it had become a dream, and this dream was just like those exquisite little models. It was something he could actually see, something he could reach out and touch.