by Hao Jingfang
The sun continued to rise. Inch by inch, the shadow-tree sank, distorted, became harder to see. Neither of them spoke, their gazes following the incredible sight. At the last minute, as the tree was about to disappear from their view, Luoying pointed and shouted.
“Look! A signature!”
Two giant letters, H and S, were inscribed at the bottom of the crater’s rim.
“My grandfather … ,” muttered Luoying.
“You think he—”
“Yes, it must be him!”
“It makes sense. He was a pilot, and he would have been able to carve this from the air in his plane.”
“Do you remember the apple?” asked Luoying.
Anka nodded. “You think it’s a memorial.”
“Possibly.” A sense of excitement seized Luoying. “But I just thought of another interpretation.”
“Tell me.”
“We were talking about Mars and Earth last night,” said Luoying. “Perhaps the two worlds are like two of these apples. Neither is a stage in the evolution of the other, but both are simply fruits from the same tree, hanging on different branches grown out of the same root.”
“The worlds are apples,” muttered Anka.
They stood and watched until the sun had risen high enough to bathe the whole crater with light. The vanished painting continued to linger in their minds.
More sentences long buried in her heart surfaced. She couldn’t understand why her memory had suddenly recovered in these last few days. It was as though these lines had been planted in her mind as soon as she read them, only waiting for this day to sprout and bloom. On this morning, they were like tears from sorrowful eyes, flowing forth naturally and unimpeded. She began to recite.
Liés à nos frères par un …
She spoke of the brotherhood of climbers, of gazing up at the same peak and being tied to the same rope, of the eternal love of those who strive to fulfill the same purpose.
Anka gazed at her. “Is it from the same book from last night?”
Luoying shook her head. “This is from Saint-Exupéry’s Wind, Sand and Stars.”
“Wind, Sand and Stars?”
“Yes. Wind, Sand and Stars.”
* * *
Now that it was completely light outside, they reconnected the two depleted batteries to the wings and spread them open in front of the cave to soak up energy for a new day.
Anka turned on the wireless, and soon Runge was asking about their status. Luoying looked down over the lip of the ledge and saw the ancient mining ship emerge from the canyon in which it had taken shelter and roll toward them slowly, swaying from side to side. The ship moved with a jaunty, carefree attitude, heading directly for the spot below their cave.
Mira’s voice squawked in the headsets. “Sorry you had to spend a night starving and freezing up there. I’m almost afraid to tell you that we had another feast. There was pumpkin cake, and we had bottles of chilled Gio. We stayed up half the night playing cards and listening to music. Kingsley, help me out here: What else did we do?”
“Try not to show off too much,” said Anka, chuckling. “Remember, fortune is fickle.”
Runge asked Anka to give a detailed report on the status of their equipment. By the time the mining ship stopped, they saw a tiny airlock open on the back of the turtle shell–like hull. Runge peeked out and waved a small flag at them, drawing their attention to the long poles sticking out of the back of the ship.
“Can you see the net we’ve got back there?”
“Yes.”
“Can you fly down on your own power?”
“That’s going to be tough.”
“Then can you jump into the net?”
Anka tried to estimate the distance and the size of the net. “I think the net is too small and too far.”
“Do you have any other ideas?”
“I do. In a minute I’m going to toss down a battery. Watch for it.”
“No problem.”
“Be careful,” said Anka, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Maybe you should let Sorin drive.”
“Once again, you show so little faith in me.” But Runge was laughing, too.
Anka got busy. Luoying watched him work, uncertain how she could help. She had not been all that concerned about getting down last night, but now she realized that it wasn’t as simple as she had thought. Yesterday they had taken off with propellers driven by compressed air, which was now depleted. They couldn’t take off by jumping off and gliding either. The cave wasn’t high enough, and the ledge wasn’t long enough for them to get a running start.
As she looked on, Anka took apart one pair of wings. Carefully he separated the membrane from the veins of the wing. The veins, made of flexible but strong material, were then twisted by Anka into a long cable, coiled in one thick pile at their feet. Finally, he connected a battery to one end of the cable and tossed it down like a sailor tossing a cable to shore at a dock. The net at the end of the mining ship, woven from thick cables and meant for crushed ore, caught it and retracted inside.
Anka then wrapped the other end of the cable around his waist and tied it to his belt. He walked over to Luoying and secured the cable around her waist. Since they had already disassembled one pair of wings to provide heat the night before and took apart another pair to make the cable, only two pairs out of the four they had worn were left. Anka took these and secured one pair to each of their backs.
“Watch me,” said Anka. “All you have to do is to jump after me and follow my lead.”
He waved at Runge below, who waved back in acknowledgment. A strong flagpole rose out of the mining ship, with the other end of the cable tied to it.
The mining ship began to roll away.
“Do you remember what you said about two people tied to the same rope?” asked Anka, giving her a reassuring grin.
As the slack in the cable ran out, Anka took a few steps on the ledge and leaped off, falling and being pulled along by the rope.
The ten meters between him and Luoying ran out in a moment, and Luoying instinctively followed him off the ledge. The instant she was in the air, her mind was completely blank. She fell as she felt herself being pulled along, and the ground was rushing up to her. She didn’t move, thinking that she was about to die.
But her fall slowed, and the wind caught her wings as though an invisible hand were lifting her up. Gradually, Luoying breathed, no longer terrified. She saw the cable stretching down and ahead of her. Anka and she were two kites being pulled along by the cable, staying aloft.
She stretched her arms and legs. No longer worried, she allowed herself to enjoy the sensation of flight. Runge had driven into a canyon that wasn’t too deep, and soon the V-shaped mouth of the canyon was ahead of them.
“I’m going to drive you along the new way we discovered yesterday, when we were trying to hide from the big ship,” said Runge excitedly.
The ship rolled through the open space at the end of the canyon and turned into another canyon. The turn was sharp, and Anka and Luoying swept close by the towering cliff at the end.
“Watch it! Can’t you be more careful?” shouted Anka.
Runge ignored his criticism. “Do you know where we are? We saw a stone tablet over there: Angela Bluff.”
“So this is it!” Luoying shouted into the wind, shocked by the name.
“That’s right,” said Runge. “This is the place you were looking for.”
Luoying twisted around in the air to look back at the cliff she had just swept past, the place where her grandfather had been born. A large stone tablet stood at the foot of the cliff. They were moving away, and it was no longer possible to tell the details of the canyon. The place looked no different from all the other canyons and cliffs around the crater. The red rock face stood mutely, the same way it had stood for millions of years, remembering nothing of birth, nothing of death, nothing of the war that started because of it, nothing of the honor humans had heaped on it. She kept on twisting back to look, but i
t gradually faded into the distance.
She had finally seen Angela Bluff.
Runge’s voice came alive in the headsets again.
“Pay attention to your right,” he warned.
Angela Bluff was finally gone. They had emerged into a new crater.
This crater was bigger than the one from yesterday. Instead of the desolation of the previous crater, a circular metallic building stood in the middle of this one, looking refined and austere. It was shaped like a spider with its legs deeply planted in the soil. The steel structure was white and silver, surrounded by small aircraft of all different designs. The building and the aircraft all had flame designs painted on them.
“Anka, what is this?” asked Luoying.
Anka said nothing.
“None of us can guess what this is,” said Runge excitedly. “We’ve never even heard of this place. It’s a mystery. When we get back, we’ll have to do some investigating.”
Anka said nothing.
“Do either of you have a guess?” asked Runge.
“No,” said Luoying, answering for Anka. Her heart sank as she saw his expression.
The mining ship continued to speed ahead, leaving her no time to worry. Another warning sounded in her ears.
“We’re about to reach the plains. Watch out.”
While Sorin’s voice still reverberated in their ears, their field of view abruptly opened up.
Luoying felt some force lift her by the waist and push her to the side. She was flying faster, and her direction changed unpredictably. As the cable tightened, she looked around her.
The golden-hued ground spread all the way to the horizon. The line that divided day from night stretched sharply to the end of the planet, where clouds of yellow sand roiled. In the distance they could see Mars City gradually growing bigger. Under the bright sun, countless glass domes glistened like a bubbly cloud over the endless ocean of sand. The blue lines of the tube trains wound around the bubbles like vines, fading into the distance like beanstalks disappearing into the sky.
In that moment, the city appeared to be a well in the desert, surrounded by green hope, the object of every gaze. Luoying suddenly began to understand the motivation behind Martian exploration. From the time she was a little girl, she had seen her elders and relatives set off on voyages into the unknown. Without a backward glance, they rushed into piles of crushed ore, they rocketed off to Jupiter, they performed incredible stunts in the vacuum of space. These weren’t acts of survival; instead, they departed only because they called this city home, this transparent, ethereal city. It was warmth, brightness, safety. In the desert, it stored up the power of the sun; in the arid air, it maintained hope. As long as they could catch a glimpse of this city, the explorers had the courage to continue to fly into the unknown. As long as they could sense its presence in the distant cold, the fighters had the courage to continue the battle. Luoying didn’t know if her parents had been able to gaze upon the city one last time before their deaths. She hoped that they had, and that the look diminished their pain.
This was the second time that Anka and Luoying had danced between the open sky and the ground. The last time they had faced the burning red disk of the setting sun, looking down at ramparts made of clouds. This time they were under the space-black empyrean, gazing at a city as light as a cloud. Luoying felt herself turning into a cloud, without the need for control or strength. All she had to do was drift, this way and that, following the wind toward the distant horizon.
Sand and dust swirled through the air. Luoying’s heart was open but not wanting as she spread her wings against the wind.
* * *
There were no clouds on Mars. As the dust storm raged, inside the Boule Chamber the gathered throng gazed anxiously into the swirling sand.
The chamber was shaped like a rectangle with a semicircle added to one end. The glass floor was treated to display imitation-marble patterns. Four classical Greek–style columns stood along each long side of the rectangle, and between the columns stood massive bronze statues, behind which hung Martian military banners. The semicircular part of the hall held a gold-colored podium emblazoned with the Great Seal of Mars. Below the seal, in seventy-five languages, were the words Mars, My Home.
The curved wall behind the podium was a giant screen. Right now the screen showed the desert. Four massive ships stood ready in formation, waiting for orders. Their silver hulls reflected the sun as they underwent final checks before departure. Behind them, yellow sand roiled on the horizon like clouds.
Hans Sloan stood at the podium, trying to calm the crowd. The murmuring among the crowd never ceased, though sometimes they sounded like the repressed sea before a storm, and at other times they agitated like the foam spraying from surging waves. Heels clicked against the hard floor, as rapid as a drumroll.
The audience was so caught up in their own anxiety that they had lost sense of the images on the screen. As the roiling yellow sand approached, few realized its import. A few mothers gathered together, wiping their tearful eyes, while the fathers went up in groups to demand answers from Hans, pleading for more resources to be devoted to the search.
Only when the gray shape of the mining ship loomed up on the screen and the figures of the children dancing in the air became clear did the parents gathered in the chamber suddenly approach the screen all at once.
The silence in the chamber lasted until the youths entered in a joyous and noisy gaggle. Their laughter and conversation echoed from the hallway into the chamber.
“You were driving like a drunk maniac, I swear!”
“Don’t blame me! The storm was coming at us from the side. I had to drive like that to keep you airborne.”
As they entered, the chattering youths took off their helmets and shook loose their hair, their animated faces full of fearless energy. It was as if a wind had blown away the clouds of anxiety, bringing with it sunlight. But then they saw the faces of their parents, and instantly they lowered their voices, their steps turned cautious and strained, and they moved away from one another, almost unconsciously standing up straighter.
The solemnity in the chamber was like an invisible force that had gently disarmed this wild wind. The youths stopped in the middle of the hall, looking at one another without speaking. The adults stood on either side of them. Some of the mothers were about to run up to embrace their children, but the fathers held them back. The air in the chamber seemed frozen.
Hans, still at the podium, cleared his throat. His gaze was steady, and his nose was like an iron that held down the exhaustion evident in his wrinkled face. His voice, like a dull knife, cut through the anxious air.
“First, I’m very glad that all of you made it back safely. You’ve proven your talent and courage in this unexpected adventure.” His grave expression lent weight to his words. “But I must also ask each of you to reflect upon what your actions have cost others. The irresponsible, unauthorized expedition worried and frightened your parents and teachers.”
Hans stopped there, looking from the youths to their parents. The chamber was completely silent. He noticed that many surreptitiously squeezed their fingers tensely.
“The biggest step on the journey from a clever youth to a mature adult is learning to be responsible for one’s own actions. You broke the regulations intended to keep the city safe. By stealing the permit and leaving the city without authorization, you placed yourself and the nation both in great danger. Had any of you been injured, the consequences would have been grave. Even a young student who behaves in such a deliberately careless manner should be punished. As part of the education of future rational citizens of the Martian Republic, such punishment is necessary and proper.
“But in consideration of the fact that all of the offending youths are members of the Mercury Group, who suffered psychological harm due to the lack of appropriate explanations for certain events during their sojourn on Earth, I hereby declare that the youths shall only be isolated for a month to receive guidance and
counseling. No other punishment shall be imposed.
“I would also like to take this opportunity to clarify some historical matters. Two years ago, to ensure the success of the negotiations between Earth and Mars, the students of the Mercury Group were used as hostages without their knowledge. This was our error, and I offer to the students my sincerest apologies.”
Hans bowed to all the students. Every member of the audience was stunned, child and parent alike. Before this point, Luoying and her friends had speculated on every possible outcome from their little rebellion, but this wasn’t one of them.
“But I hope you will believe me when I say that the effort to send you to Earth to study wasn’t merely a figure in some political calculus. I hope you can believe that.”
Hans saw that the students were beginning to whisper to one another. Just as he had anticipated, doubt was spreading. He pretended not to see as he continued in an even tone. “However, the adults who were involved in this incident must be held accountable for their actions. The first person who must be punished is Warren Sangis, who was on watch at the Aru District gate. He neglected his duty and permitted these students to leave the city when they didn’t have the necessary authorization. He is immediately reassigned to the mining vehicle depot as a full-time maintenance worker. The exact duration of his assignment will be determined later.
“The second person who must be punished is Dr. Reini of First Hospital in Russell District. He helped these youths gain key bits of knowledge in history, biomimetics, and biosensing, and he even knew their plan ahead of time, but he failed to guide, supervise, or otherwise dissuade them. For such dereliction of duty, he should be punished severely. But as the students did not come to harm, the penalty is reduced. The final decision is to remove Dr. Reini from his current post at the hospital and reassign him to the Registry of Files, where he will assist the Registrar with historical files. He is also forbidden from any more scientific research or teaching without explicit authorization.”