by Hao Jingfang
Hans allowed his gaze to roam around the crowd, pausing briefly over Luoying’s shocked expression. Then he strode away from the podium toward the exit at the side of the chamber without a glance back at the chattering youths and their scolding parents.
A BEGINNING SERVING AS AN END
On the morning Reini left the hospital for the last time, Luoying came to the skydeck of the hospital, also for the last time.
Most of Reini’s belongings had already been removed, so he was only at the hospital to pick up a few last personal effects.
Luoying followed him about the office. Just like a few days before, she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. Reini handed her a few preserved specimens that he no longer needed. She took them without looking, completely at a loss.
“Dr. Reini,” she said. But when he turned to look at her, her voice weakened. “I … uh … never mind.”
Reini smiled at her. “You want to ask about my reassignment.”
“I’m sorry!” Luoying bowed to him again and again, her hair whipping up and down by the sides of her neck. “I’m sorry—”
“It’s really not a big deal,” said Reini. “Your grandfather once again allowed me to pick my new post. I’m perfectly content.”
“He told me that he called you on the day we left.”
“He did.”
“What … did he ask you?”
“He asked me if I knew you were planning such an expedition.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I knew.”
“But I didn’t tell you anything about our plans! Why did you assume the blame?”
“But I did know.”
Luoying stared at Reini, whose face remained serene.
Reini took Luoying to the skydeck. It was still early, so the deck was deserted. Bright light filled the space, and water gurgled through the pool, carefree.
Luoying stood at the wall, gazing at the distant cliff. Behind the narrow band of red, Luoying knew, there was a certain crater named after Linda Sais. It was no different from any of the other thousands of craters hidden among the mountains, peacefully asleep for millions of years. The wind had shaped it. It had witnessed soil mounds being leveled by the wind, water escaping into space, lava freezing into solid rock. And at this moment, it had become an eye into the heart of Luoying, a bright eye gazing up at the stars. Because of it, the mute and dark mountains were illuminated.
“I have one last question,” said Luoying, looking up at Reini’s broad forehead. “Why is it that some people are always around, but I don’t feel close to them? Why is that some other people are rarely with me, but I feel their warmth every moment?”
Reini pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He pointed at the distant sky. “When you were out there, did you see any clouds?”
“Just one wisp. The morning of the second day.”
“A wisp is about all you’ll ever see on Mars. But that’s enough to explain everything.”
“How do you mean?”
“A cloud is actually made of liquids. The droplets are far apart from one another in the air, each moving independently. But because they’re similar in scale, they refract light similarly. That light connects them, and we see the whole constellation of droplets as one cloud.”
That’s how it works, thought Luoying. Yes, we’re at the same scale, and the light connects us. That’s how it works.
She had finally discovered the source of their commonality. During the three days after returning from their adventure, she had tried to tease out just why so many things she and her friends thought were natural were incomprehensible to others. She recalled the dark dance stage, the debates on the mining ship, the cave in the cold night, the orange-glowing wing tent, the bright laughter in the air; she seemed to see the very air over each youthful head shimmering with the endless search for answers and the refusal to compromise. She knew now that it was the mark left by the process of growth. The only solid support they could count on was that shared wandering through worlds more complicated than imagination. Their shared identity could all be sourced to that chaotic, common experience. It was a solid backdrop, a fact that needed no derivation from axioms.
She had found what she was looking for. There was no need for her to refuse to change, to abandon freedom, but there was also no need to worry about departures, about the lack of warmth. They had the same scale; they had the light between them.
Once, she had seen herself clearly, and that allowed her to bid herself farewell. Now she had seen her companions clearly, and she could bid them farewell as well without worry. She no longer feared the solitude of journeying afar, because they were a cloud, and light made them one. They were seeds borne by the same tree. No matter how far the wind scattered them, the same qi flowed through them.
The city was awakening in the morning light. Before the bright glass wall, Reini and Luoying were two silhouettes.
Looking at the side of his face, Luoying wondered just how much Reini understood her thoughts. Sometimes she felt he was only telling her the simplest facts, but other times she felt as though he always knew what she was trying to ask.
Reini was dressed casually today in a light green striped shirt and a gray cotton jacket. He stood with his hands in his pockets, at ease. His face, gazing into the distance, revealed little emotion at the corners of his mouth. Like the first time she had come here, Reini gave Luoying the impression of a tree. Without much movement, he kept himself upright. Even his voice was a tree: straight and gentle.
The silence and tranquility was abruptly broken. A mental patient broke in and beat his fists against the glass wall. Nurses and doctors rushed in and escorted him away. Comforting voices were interspersed with loud shouts. The whole noisy process was like a gust of wind that brought them conflict and cleaned away the story. The emptiness that remained seemed even more empty.
“Dr. Reini, will I be able to visit you in the future?”
“I’m not a doctor anymore,” said Reini. “My punishment also includes not being allowed to teach. But I don’t think anything in the decision forbids me from receiving visitors. You’re welcome at any time.”
Luoying smiled.
She looked outside the wall, knowing that one part of her life was over and another part had just begun. She didn’t know what the future held. The Martian landscape was vast and silent.
PART THREE
GALE WINGS
PROLOGUE
Exile became fact only at the moment of returning home.
For more than a thousand and eight hundred days, when Luoying was away from home, she didn’t realize she had been exiled. Home was an imagined place in her heart; she could only think of its warmth, its memories, its openness and acceptance, but she never thought of its shape. Imagination took what it needed based on her mood, like the air around her. Since air never conflicted with the person it surrounded, there was no seam between her and home. The distance between them was merely physical.
Before she left home, home had no shape. It was merely a presence far larger than she was. Because she was embedded within it, she could never see its limits or its borders. When she was away from home, home also had no shape. It was on the other side of the sky. Compared to the sky of the foreign land, it was too small a presence, merely a point of light. There were no details, no outlines.
Home in those moments was always a smooth and kind presence. Whether too big or too small, there were no sharp edges, no thorns or spurs, no instances where an encounter ripped away her skin and flesh to reveal the white bone beneath. She could always immerse herself in the concept of home, whether with her body or her heart.
But all the mismatches came to the fore the moment she arrived home after a long time away. In that moment, the cracks became real: visible, tangible, as clear as the distance between one person and another. She was like a puzzle piece that had fallen off the picture of home, thinking that after her sojourn abroad she would be able to fit right bac
k in. But at the moment of return, she realized that there was no spot left for her. Her shape did not fit the hole left in the puzzle when she left. It was only in that moment that she truly lost her home.
Luoying and her friends were fated never to return home. The ship they were on was forever vacillating on the Lagrangian point between the two worlds. To vacillate was also never to belong. It was their fate to be cosmic vagabonds.
RUDY
Time for a coffee break.
The door to the Boule Chamber opened, and Rudy was the first to emerge. He strode to the wall, filled a glass with cold water at the drinking fountain, and gulped it down.
The chamber is too small, he thought. So stuffy and cramped. What were they thinking when they built it? It lacks natural lighting and good air circulation, and the chairs are as hard as corpses. It’s impossible to sit in them for a whole morning without being put into a horrible mood. The building has been in use for thirty-five years at least, hasn’t it? Why don’t they renovate it? The idea that it’s a historical memorial is just bureaucratic nonsense. The right way to commemorate history is to turn the place into a museum and build a new capitol. They’re always resisting change. Look around here: everything is old. Old building, old drinking fountain, outdated A/V system … Everything smells musty.
He had to concede that this last bit was effective. To squeeze so many people into such tight quarters is a great way to slow the mind down. Infected by the musty smells, it’s no wonder that everyone starts to think like the aged. All the uncles and aunties are the same: forever cautious, forever hesitant, never able to decide on anything. Everything is in Mars’s favor right now, but they’re still hesitating! To be so conservative, so resistant to change … we’ll never get anywhere. How can we possibly explore the depths of the universe like this? I should have been blunter earlier. I’m still too conciliatory, too diffident.
The cold water did him good. His whole body felt refreshed. Rudy stood up and let out a long breath, and the tips of his burning ears felt a bit cooler.
The legislators exited the chamber by twos and threes. Coming up to the long table of refreshments, they munched on snacks and drank coffee as they chatted. For the legislators, coffee breaks were often even more productive than actual sessions, since this was when alliances could be formed and the trading of votes attempted. Legislators Chakra and Richardson passed by Rudy without a glance and headed for the lounge at the other end of the hall, whispering to each other. The dark gold veins in the floor seemed to form a carpet. The two soon disappeared down the hall.
Rudy watched their retreating figures and wondered if he had been too arrogant in the council chamber earlier. When Richardson had tried talking to him, he had turned away, pretending to be listening to Souza. Maybe he had overdone it and offended Richardson. At the time the gesture had come almost unconsciously, and he hadn’t meant a deliberate insult. But thinking back on it, it did seem too disrespectful. He didn’t like Richardson, a stubborn Wader who had neither the sense nor the sensibility to appreciate the importance of overcoming nature. He had mocked Rudy’s enthusiasm and radicalism, and Rudy had never forgotten those insults.
I’ll patch it up with him later, he thought. After all, he’s an elder, and to be so disrespectful to him in public was a mistake. He didn’t so much fear reprisal from Richardson as despise himself for losing control. Richardson, if he minded what had happened, was just one man, but his lack of control would cost him the support of many. Smile even when you’re fighting, he repeated to himself.
He drank another glass of water and felt much better and calmer.
Legislator Franz stopped next to him and greeted him with a smile. A bald and rotund man in his forties, Franz seemed to get along with everyone. But Rudy knew how politically astute the man was. By never clearly expressing support for either the Climbers or the Waders, he made sure that his vote became something both sides fought over. Rudy felt a trace of anxiety.
“What did you think of the discussion?” Franz asked him.
Rudy tried to be cautious. “Er … I think there are multiple ways to look at it. If I were an optimist, I’d say that both sides understood the other side’s position well and there’s no misunderstanding. If I were a pessimist, I’d say that both sides have long understood each other’s position well, perhaps too well.”
Franz chuckled. “How long have you been at the Boule now?”
“About two and a half years.”
“I listened to your new proposal. Interesting. Very interesting.”
Rudy’s heart sped up but he kept his voice even. “Thank you. Glad to hear it.”
“Do you have time for a few questions?”
“Of course. Happy to elaborate on anything you want to know.”
The smile disappeared from Franz’s face. “The point of your proposal is to make vertical movement easier, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The biggest inconvenience of the Climbers’ plan is how to move between elevations.”
“And you think the solution is magnetic tube cars.”
“The cars will rely on magnetic levitation, but there won’t be any tubes.”
“What’s so different about your plan compared to previous proposals?”
“Well, there’s no need to dig tunnels. That’s probably the biggest difference. It’s like how our houses are all independent. The cars will also move independently. It will be much cheaper to build and easier to control their routes.”
“But if I’m understanding this right, your plan requires a strong ground-based magnetic field. That’s not going to be cheap.”
“I’ve looked into this. It turns out that the rocks of Martian mountains have strong magnetic fields. After quarrying, if we just regulate the fields with some circuits, the material will be perfect for building what we need for the transportation system. It’s not clear where the magnetic field is coming from—maybe it has to do with how the rocks were formed. Anyway, that’s why I support the Climbers: we can greatly reduce the cost by using materials on hand in the mountains.”
“How does your plan compare to elevators? Surely going straight up and down is the most efficient path.”
“Elevators will require multiple shafts, and each shaft will have to be hundreds of meters long. Drilling through solid rock isn’t trivial.”
Rudy took Franz to a terminal and logged in. He navigated to his home directory and brought up several hand-drawn diagrams. They showed a tall mountainside from multiple angles. Along the steep incline were strings of caves, each equipped with walls and doors much like existing houses in the city—it was as though the city had been lifted up and then embedded in the side of the mountain. Between cave and cave—or between dwelling and dwelling—was strung a network of rails that covered the mountain face from foot to peak. Hemispherical cars, suspended from the rails like ski lifts, glided between the dwellings like pearls on strings.
This was an elaboration on the basic plan of the Climbers. The Climbers wanted to pick a crater near the equator and reuse the caves that had once housed people before the war. The floor of the crater would be turned into a lake; people would live on the rim wall. The water would be trapped within the crater to form a closed cycle of rainfall and streams, with the walls covered in lush vegetation to build a complete ecosystem. Rudy’s drawings made the whole plan more vivid and provided room for imagination to roam. Each dwelling, for instance, was surrounded by a garden, and the magnetic cars moving through the jungle made the scene come alive.
As Rudy explained, he paid attention to Franz’s face, which showed no expression. Rudy actually found the lack of response a good sign. Franz was one of the few people Rudy admired. As the author of numerous political essays, the man was influential despite being relatively young. As a junior legislator in the Boule, Rudy had few opportunities to make speeches or direct big policy decisions, but he had prepared detailed dossiers on all 160-plus members. To have the support of a heavyweight like Franz would do much to advance
the Climbers’ plan.
Franz said nothing as he flipped through the detailed proposal on the screen.
Rudy’s mind spun while he observed the man. He knew that by this point the competition between the Climbers and the Waders was no longer a matter of different philosophies and theories but was focused on practical problems such as power distribution grids, transportation of goods, neighborhood organization, and detailed budgets for each step. Technical advantages and resource-use efficiency were far more persuasive than any values or principles. When both sides were arguing that their plan would bring the greatest benefit to the largest number of people, only numbers could convince. Rudy understood that any opportunity to show how his technology helped a plan was also an opportunity for the plan to help him.
Is he going to support me? he wondered. Is he going to bring more votes to my side?
It was a time of alliances and pacts. In the Boule, the sizes of the extreme radical and extreme conservative factions were both small. Most legislators remained neutral, unsure which plan to back. Based on numbers, the conservatives, who preferred the Waders’ plan of staying put in the city, had the upper hand. But of the neutrals, a significant portion leaned toward the more radical migration plan of the Climbers. The radicals gambled that they’d win most of them. Rudy was merely a foot soldier for the Climbers, but he was radical in every sense. He gazed at Franz while Franz gazed at the screen. The longer the senior legislator stared at the screen, the more hope grew in Rudy’s heart.
The wait was tense, but it didn’t last forever.
Having read through the entirety of Rudy’s design document, Franz looked up. “Can you take me to see your simulations?”