by Hao Jingfang
But her voice had an effect. Gradually she saw the youths begin to move. They picked up their belongings and scattered to the edges of the square, departing by ones and twos. Luoying remained on the steps, saying nothing, until the noise that had once inundated the square descended, along with the sun, into silence.
She was very tired and wanted to go home herself. Reini asked her if she wished to go into the Boule Chamber to listen to the debate. She shook her head and told Chania and Sorin to go instead. She just wanted to lie down and press everything she had learned and experienced into a dream.
* * *
Once home, she checked her messages, as was her habit. She wasn’t expecting anything. But there was a new blinking message that pushed all thoughts of sleep out of her mind.
It was a letter from Earth.
Luoying,
I’m delighted to hear from you. My project isn’t going so well, and I was feeling low, when I got your letter, a ray of sunshine. How have you been?
I’m running into so many walls that I almost want to give up. The environment on Earth is just so different from Mars, and the weight of history makes it difficult to push for change. Unlike the time of the French Revolution, it’s much harder now to have a successful revolution. The connectedness of all nations paradoxically makes it almost impossible to change the lifestyle of everyone by creating concentrated change in a single spot.
Every time I try to describe to other artists the idea of the public domain enabled by the central archive, they suspect me of being part of some conspiracy to control them. Governments won’t take up my plan because it will reduce the GDP related to IP transactions by billions. Businesses are even less interested, since the plan eats into their profits.
I suppose I should have anticipated all this. But I find it hard to believe that a plan that has the obvious potential to promote the arts and the free flow of ideas for humanity as a whole would be opposed by almost every individual.
Fortuitously, I just heard some news about the Reversionists. We’ve been back on Earth for about a month now. The day after we got back, Theon began the design of the new theme park. Instead of flooding the net with advertisements, however, he chose to take advantage of the interest generated by news coverage of the Terran delegation’s visit to Mars by posting viral videos of Mars City. People loved the idea of Mars City as an oasis in the desert, and now all the radical environmentalists and Reversionists have found a new set of objects to worship: glass houses; lush, romantic gardens; humanity and the environment merged into one. They are discussing, praising, looking up information, posting articles … When they found out that the technology of Martian houses has been brought back to Earth, interest went through the roof. They’re treating this sudden interest in Mars as a new movement, and they’ve already made plans to visit the new theme park in large groups before construction has even begun. They’re calling for others to join them on the web, but so far they haven’t looked into who’s behind the theme park. Theon is extremely pleased with the reaction so far. He’s thinking of making the new theme park follow the idea of naturalism to attract more visitors.
There are so many movements on Earth now that sometimes I have a hard time telling what the goal of each is. And then I realize that I’m just one more voice in that clamor. Maybe Mars is happier, because those who walk a simple and pure path are always happier.
Tell me more about what’s going on on Mars.
Your friend,
Eko
Luoying read over the letter twice and then sat on the window ledge. Drawing up her knees, she wrapped her arms around them and gazed at the setting sun outside. There was a dust storm, and the horizon was a blur of gold and black. The sun was almost invisible, a somber sight through the sand-filled air.
She felt exhausted, tired of humanity’s fervent running about. She didn’t know if such running about had an endpoint or where the endpoint was. Was one group of people doomed to always end up where another group started from? She didn’t want to go anywhere at all, hoping only to see clearly why or how everything was happening. It was as though she had been tossed about by the winds of fate, and now she wanted the winds to leave her alone so she could remain still and watch. She had lost the enthusiasm for being vagabond, wanting only to sit still until the end of the universe.
She recalled a particular exchange with Reini in the hospital; the words now held a special meaning for her.
So what does “happiness” mean to you?
Sobriety. After a moment of reflection, Reini added in a quiet voice, And the freedom to be sober.
As she gazed at the horizon, she missed Anka. Each time she felt lost and helpless, she missed him more. The endless swirling sand and the blur of the setting sun wrapped about her like a stage curtain, and she was the lone actor who sat in a vast theater with no audience. She wanted to see the darkness clearly, to hold the steady hand of another as they were both wrapped inside the turbulent curtain. She missed Anka very much.
It had been several days since she last saw Anka. He didn’t come to their rally, and never made an appearance at Capitol Square either. She didn’t know what he was doing. She jumped off the window ledge to call him, but no one picked up on the other end of the line.
REINI
Reini watched Luoying leave and then returned to the Boule Chamber with Chania and Sorin. The debate was still ongoing. He had been gone for about an hour, but little progress had been made.
As an assistant archivist, he took the two youths with him to the observers’ seats. The automatic cameras, like strange predator fish of the deep, breathed and took in everything under the waves of language without anyone noticing. Chania and Sorin sat behind him, looking around, full of curiosity. He kept an eye on the two of them. Chania maintained a look of severe annoyance, as though she was still angry at everything but forcing herself to hold it in. Sorin, on the other hand, looked far more moderate but also worried, his gaze shifting between Chania and what was happening on the dais.
All the lights in the Boule Chamber were on. The podium on the dais was the focus of multiple lights, and the edges of the podium as well as the mic gleamed, drawing everyone’s attention. Spotlights above the bronze statues put a halo around every larger-than-life figure. Laser holographic projectors installed around the chamber combined to create three-dimensional scenes as visual aids in the middle of the floor, and everything—objects, buildings, people—looked as vivid as real life. The small raised platform upon which the speakers stood was illuminated by four spotlights; the effect was to make it seem as though the speakers were surrounded by blinking stars. Sunlight fell through the tall domed ceiling but was completely overwhelmed by the glaring artificial lighting.
All the speakers sounded impassioned; it was impossible not to be roused to such fervency under the gaze of so many eyes and lights. The person speaking now was an old man, a Wader as well as a founder of the republic. He spoke from history, recounting for everyone in vivid detail how the city in the desert had saved the nation of Mars, how the life of ease they now led in the crystal city was a paradise compared to the hardships of the past. He offered that the tranquility and leisure enabled by the city was the spirit of Mars, the perfect environment in which to conduct the search for truth, the Platonic garden at the base of Olympus Mons. To give it up was to give up their soul in the pursuit of an environment that didn’t belong to them, a display of hubris that would ultimately be punished by fate. Many of the elders and conservatives in the chamber interrupted his speech several times with wild applause. In fact, when he said “Platonic garden,” there were tears in many eyes and the mood in the chamber felt transcendent.
The audience reacted to the speeches in various ways. Some were completely in sync with the mood of the speaker; some showed no expression at all; some continued to whisper in private conversations, ignoring the speeches altogether; some rushed about on the ring gallery above the seats, preparing for the next speaker. Most legislators had lo
ng since made up their minds, and there were only a few votes still in play. Reini knew that while the defense session was formally the process by which legislators decided their votes, in reality the actual result was determined by the invisible maneuvers taking place behind the scenes, outside this chamber. Every time he came to a formal session of the Boule, he had the sensation of observing a performance, of witnessing some prophecy of the gods being fulfilled onstage.
Chania was very attentive. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the back of the seat in front of her, her eyes locked on the podium. She looked thoughtful, and from time to time, when something she didn’t understand was said, she whispered a question to Reini. Sorin, on the other hand, was not paying nearly as much attention. To be sure, he was also listening to the speeches. But rather than the content of the speeches, he was more interested in which parts excited Chania. Staring at her, his brows were furrowed with concern.
Rudy stepped up to the podium as the penultimate speaker for the Climbers. Based on his relative lack of experience and engineering achievements, he shouldn’t have been assigned such an important position. But Reini knew that Rudy had climbed up the career ladder at an astonishing pace. He had heard that many influential Climber legislators supported Rudy, including Richardson and Franz, famous for being harsh to newcomers. Reini had no idea how Rudy had done it, but he knew that the young man was politically talented. Rudy was now no longer just in charge of his magnetic project but also responsible for the communication and coordination between the various labs supporting the migration plan.
Rudy nodded at everyone in the chamber and turned to the side as a prepared holographic video played. He looked extremely confident as he smiled, his blond hair combed neatly. The holographic video showed a conceptual vision of cave houses on the slopes and magnetic cars. The images were optimistic and full of hope.
The video came to an end. Rudy cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon. I’m so pleased to be able to introduce the last two components of the migration plan: transportation and economic reform.
“As you’ve seen in the video, once we move to the crater, the freedom and convenience of the magnetic cars will be a key advantage of our new life. Magnetically controlled, the fast-moving vehicles will glide along rails built against the mountainside, solving the difficulties of vertical movement as well as providing everyone with a fun way to travel. The technology’s principles of operation are simple, and it’s well within our fabrication capabilities. Let me give a brief overview.”
He started another holographic video. This time, the audience was shown a cutaway view of a semispherical magnetic car, along with the magnetic coils embedded in the bedrock that propelled it along. Rudy began to explain, his voice smooth and confident. The speech had been carefully prepared so that it was easy for anyone to digest.
Reini saw Chania’s attitude change. Her fingers were interlaced tightly, and her eyes showed a combination of suspicion and sweet bashfulness. When the legislators clapped at some part of Rudy’s speech, she looked proud and pleased. Rudy was indeed speaking well, his voice infused with conviction.
The technology explanation over, Rudy shifted topics. “I also want to discuss the biggest improvement brought about by our plan: economic reform. Technology forms the background for life, while economics affects our lifestyle far more intimately. In our current city, each house is an integral part of the whole city, and each person is also a part of the city, without the right to choose their own territory. The primary reason behind this is technology. Since each house is based on blown glass for the structure and must be connected to the rest of the city, it has to be planned and added by the city. A single person or group cannot build their own house and cannot create other styles of housing. This is an insurmountable barrier for individual autonomy.
“Under the migration plan, we’ve come up with a solution aimed specifically at this problem. As Ms. Loke explained earlier, the caves in our plan are refinements of natural caves. The exterior walls and interior furnishing allow a wide variety of choices and styles, which means the establishment of many ateliers related to home construction, giving everyone the opportunity to create the home of their dreams. And if they’re unsatisfied with the location of the house, exchanges will be easy, achieving the goal of total housing autonomy.”
Reini felt Chania’s hand on his arm.
Her lips looked pale as she asked in a whisper, “Dr. Reini, what does he mean by that?”
Reini looked at her. “I believe he’s talking about a housing market.”
“To allow everyone to freely exchange houses?”
Reini nodded. “That’s one of the key points of their reforms.”
“Have they been planning this for a long time?”
“Not very long. I think this was added only recently.”
On the dais, Rudy continued to sketch his stirring vision. “If anyone doubts the significance of such autonomy, let me show you some facts. Since the implementation of the housing equalization policy, there have been three hundred and fifteen reports of dissatisfaction in the central archive, averaging to thirty-one instances per annum. This number, of course, does not include the many more instances of dissatisfaction not logged in formal complaints to the central archive, an extraordinary measure to take. Each individual should have the right to construct their shelter and decide where they live. This is a fundamental aspect of liberty.
“Even teenagers understand this truth. Today a group of passionate youths, motivated by a sense of social fairness, have congregated right outside this august chamber to rally for reforms to this policy. They reflect the voices of many. They cry out for systematic reform, and their ardor should motivate all of us to try to make our country better. Honored legislators, let’s heed their voices and take the opportunity of this historical migration to courageously and determinedly press ahead with social reform! This is a grand task worthy of Mars, worthy of each one of us.”
Chania whispered again. “Is he saying this to get more votes?”
Reini glanced at her anxious face. “I suppose he’s just adding one more reason for legislators to support his side.”
Chania’s hands trembled as she sat up ramrod straight in her seat. He could see how much tension was in her body. She stared at Rudy as he continued to orate, making no noise or movement. Sorin looked at her with concern and tried to talk to her. She didn’t respond.
She waited until his speech was over. Rudy came down off the dais and walked along the aisle between the seats. Abruptly, Chania got up and ran down until she was standing in front of him. Rearing back, she slapped him crisply across the face.
The loud snap elicited audible gasps from many in the room.
Saying nothing, Chania turned and ran out the door at the side of the Boule Chamber. A shocked Rudy stood where he was, a hand over his cheek. Sorin got up and ran out after Chania. Many of the legislators gazed curiously that way; others, however, continued with their whispered conversations or focused on their notepads. Reini sighed inside in sympathy. It had happened so quickly, and yet it also seemed preordained.
Reini could sense the reasons behind Chania’s rage. From the way she had been looking at Rudy, he could tell that the girl had treated everything between her and him as real. He had seen how devoted she was to their movement, and he understood the emotions coursing through her now. Reini had heard rumors about the Climbers’ plan for housing reform, but he had not anticipated that the youths would take their demonstration so seriously or that they would have so little understanding of the nature of politics. He recalled Chania’s expression as she ran out: disappointment, rage, the anguish of having been deceived leaving a scar on her always-proud face. He felt her pain.
Rudy remained in the aisle, his expression suspended halfway between humiliation and anger, as though wavering between chasing after Chania or staying in the Boule Chamber. His hand caressed his reddening cheek as he looked at the door th
rough which Chania had run. He hadn’t anticipated her being here, and it seemed that his plans had been thrown into disarray. He took a few steps toward the door, stopped, then took a few more steps. But in the end he didn’t leave. Instead, he sat down in a corner of the chamber. He stared at the dais, but it seemed that his mind was elsewhere.
Reini gazed at him from afar. He could still see in Rudy’s face traces of the lively little boy he remembered: the same blond hair, the same straight nose. But on this older Rudy, he could no longer find the curiosity and adventurous spirit that had suffused the little boy’s every expression. Instead he saw restraint, control, a mask of elegance. Reini knew that he was trapped, although he didn’t realize it yet. Rudy had wrapped his will in adaptability, bought ambition with liberty. A person living for ambition had only one choice, and thus had no freedom.
Reini sighed and pulled his gaze back to the dais. He could not and would not interfere with the loves and hatreds of young people. The penultimate speaker for the Waders was about to wrap up his speech. Reini hadn’t been paying attention to the speech earlier, so he caught only the bare outlines: the possibility that the glass-covered river would provide a controlled environment for experimental biological organisms. The plan was not bad, and it was definitely feasible, but the speaker was unskilled as an orator and couldn’t stroke the imagination of the audience into sympathy with his vision. When he was done, the applause was perfunctory. After a whole day of speeches, everyone was tired.
Juan came on next as the last speaker for the Climbers. As soon as he approached the podium, everyone sat up as though a lightning bolt had flashed through the chamber.