Sense of Wonder: A Century of Science Fiction (351 page)

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Authors: Leigh Grossman

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BOOK: Sense of Wonder: A Century of Science Fiction
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Maybe Dr. Long had not been so paranoid after all when she wondered whether the thieves had really come after her Kawasaki.

There was a short silence. Eventually Tan cleared his throat. “Dr. Long is planning to visit Green Phoenix,”

he said.

She nodded. “I expect permission any day. For once the UN’s right of inspection is to be fully implemented. There have been misgivings about Green Phoenix right from the start, not just overseas but in this country too. The full-bellies have never approved, have they?”

It struck Wang as incongruous to hear this blonde round-eye refer so casually to one of the unofficial factions in the present Chinese government. Some held that a surplus of food allowed the leisure to plot subversion, so it was safer to keep the people hungry, others that shortages made them angry enough to rebel. In allusion to an ancient proverb they were nicknamed “full-bellies” and “empty-bellies.” Obviously massive reclamation projects were anathematical to the former.

But what did all this have to do with Policeman Wang? He cast an inquiring look at Tan. “Dr. Long?” the chief superintendent invited.

“Mr. Wang, I hope you don’t mind, but… well, I don’t have to tell you that if this fruit does in fact originate from Green Phoenix sundry persons will find themselves in jeopardy. They may take steps to protect their reputations. The way you reacted the other night made me feel I can rely on you. I’ve asked for you to be detached on special assignment. I want you, in effect, to be my bodyguard.”

“There’s no need to decide at once,” Tan began. “When permission comes through for the trip—Is something wrong?”

“No, sir.” Wang straightened to full height. “Thank you, Dr. Long, for the suggestion. I’d like to volunteer straight away.”

* * * *

That added the near-theft of the Kawasaki to the necessary preconditions.

THE GREEN PHOENIX

 

…was indeed green. Brilliant viridian, searing emerald, acid lime, sprawled out of the five valleys where it had initially been seeded, that tapered in the manner of fingers—or claws—and now had surmounted all but the barest and rockiest of the intervening ridges. Sight of it drove away the headache that had plagued Wang since undergoing, last evening, a whole battery of said-to-be-necessary immunizations.

For it was wrong!

He had never traveled this far west before, never seen with his own eyes how valleys like these might have looked in olden time. He had never viewed the aboriginal firs and pines, breathed the electric scent of waterfalls, heard the clamor of uncounted birds. But images of them were part of the world he had been born to, immortalized in the work of long-dead artists, shadowed forth in poetry and legend, implicit to this day in the characters he had been taught to write with.

That was gone.

Instead, here loomed a mass like fungus, like pondweed, like moss, as crudely bright as though it had been painted, as stark as though it had been carved from plastic foam. Staring at it from the elderly twin-engined army plane Dr. Long had conjured up for the last stage of their journey, he felt horrified.

And more so yet when he looked elsewhere, for all the surrounding land bore testimony to the greed of humankind: scarps denuded of soil and vegetation; terraces ordained by far-off bureaucrats on the grounds that global warming had made it feasible to grow rice in this area, which squandered months of work and slumped at the first drop of rain, leaving cascades of mud to dry and blow away; felled logs by the hectare, last remnants of a noble forest, destined for sale abroad to the profit of parasitic middlemen, seized in the nick of time and kept back so that the local folk might warm their homes in winter, heat their food, and mulch their little plots with bark and sawdust before erosion stole the last trace of their fertile land. It had been a bold decision, much applauded. Even so thousands of the starving had had to be relocated or allowed to emigrate.

Now the Green Phoenix provided work—better: a sharable ambition—for about a million who remained. Nonetheless the process of attrition still went on. Wang had never thought before how small a number a million really was. No one knew, no one had known since the nineties of last century, the population of his home city. He could only repeat what he had been told, that it was about twice as great as in the year of his birth: four million, then? Mexico City comprised, so it was said, more than thirty million, of whom most were doomed to starve, catch AIDS, or die by violence.

Guangzhou was a cosmopolitan place—had been since before Wang was born. Twice a year it was invaded by thousands of foreign visitors attending the great trade fairs, and in between there were countless minor cultural events. Since 1997 it had been as open to the world as any part of China and much more than most. But never before had Wang felt the reality of the world beyond the frontiers of the Middle Kingdom as keenly as when watching—there was small point in listening, for he spoke no language but his own—Dr. Long invoking the support of colleagues in country after country through computers at the Ugly Turtle. Now as the plane droned toward the edge of the Green Phoenix, toward the little landing-strip that served the headquarters town whence it had been directed since the forest’s inception, he sensed the first impact of what she had achieved. Waiting for them at the head of a group that included soldiers was a man in a dark civilian overcoat whose very posture betrayed a wish to be anywhere but here, and not merely because it was a dank and misty afternoon. Wang wondered whether he dared pose a question, but was saved the need. Dr. Long spoke up.

“I knew they were taking me seriously, but I didn’t realize
how
seriously!”

The third passenger glanced at her. Wang had only met Dr. Bin on the flight from Guangzhou: a greying bespectacled man of middle height, introduced by Dr. Long as a fellow biologist but manifestly more than just another scientist. He exuded a scent of politics.

“That’s Project Director Pao, is it?” he grunted. “I didn’t know you’d met.”

“We haven’t,” was the composed reply. “But can you imagine someone like him sending a deputy with all these rumors flying around?”

“Are you sure they’ve reached this far?” Bin countered. “If so, the next thing we can look forward to is lunatic headlines like
goodbye to hunger
and
farewell to famine!

Wang started. Even though he had gathered, from what Dr. Long had told him about her discussions with colleagues, that people had been surprised and impressed by what he still thought of as “Lin’s fruit,” he hadn’t pictured it as having such global consequences.

Surely, though, she had implied that it also gave people cancer—or had he misunderstood somewhere along the line? Quite possibly. He had a new problem on his mind. When first proposed the notion of this trip had seemed like a heaven-sent escape from the misery of home. Now, however, he couldn’t help hearing over and over his wife’s threat that if he didn’t come back on the promised day, not even one day later, she would sue for divorce.

He suspected that was what she secretly wanted. In today’s China, where so many parents of the last generation had opted for a boy in the traditional manner, there was a multimillion surplus of males and any girl less ugly than a water-buffalo could pick and choose. People didn’t even object to divorcees any longer. So …

There was no actual control tower. Circling, their pilot was speaking to a man on the ground with a hand-held radio, confirming the identity of those on board. Dr. Bin scanned the area. “Do you see any sign of the equipment?” he inquired.

Dr. Long shrugged. “No, but I imagine the roads are pretty rough in this part of the world. Pilot!”

“Yes?” The woman at the controls glanced over her shoulder.

“Ask if there’s any news of the trucks bringing our gear.”

A brief half-heard exchange; then: “Yes, the lead driver called in not long ago. They’re just the other side of that hill. Should come in sight any moment.… Okay, we’re cleared to land.”

And set them down ahead of a plume of dust.

Unstrapping as the plane halted, checking his gun, Wang demanded, “Doctor, should I go ahead and—?”

“And make like a bodyguard?” she countered wryly. “I guess you can skip it this time. We have had enough support from the level-heads.”

He looked blank. Impatiently she rapped, “Not the full-bellies! Not the empty-bellies! The few politicians in this benighted land who sometimes worry about our whole species instead of just their chance of taking their hens and hogs and horses up to heaven! Don’t bet on their ascendancy lasting, though. We’re here chiefly because the pro-UN faction got the jump on the others, the people who stand to lose the most if we have to firebomb Green Phoenix.…In practice of course it would have to be nukes, and even they might not do the job properly.”

Wang shook his head foggily. “Doctor, I—”

“Ah, I doubt it’ll come to that. I think we may be in time.
Just
in time.… By the way, stop calling me doctor. My name’s Sue. Sorry if you don’t approve of such informality, but I prefer it. Put it down to my American upbringing.”

Tossing aside her seat-straps, she advanced toward the exit. Wang had intended to precede her but instead followed in a daze. What in the name of the heaven of the Jade Emperor was happening? Green Phoenix might have to be nuked? But it was supposed to be the harbinger of a renaissance not merely here but all around the world! In the newspapers, on TV and radio, everyone had been told what a marvelous achievement it was!

Yet there had been no mention of fruit with a flavor of meat that could be eaten by humans, and martens too. What else had Lin cited? Dogs, cats—what about pigs? Ah, but pigs ate anything anyway. The notion of saying goodbye to hunger, though …

He snatched himself back to the present. The newcomers were being greeted by the man in the dark coat, whose manner made it clear how convinced he was of his own importance and whose words, though superficially polite, contrived to imply that no matter how distinguished his visitors they should have given him more notice. In fact, right now he was taking time off from urgent work he was obliged to return to. However, this evening he had arranged a banquet in their honor, and he looked forward to talking at more leisure then. For the present, here were members of “my” staff who would show them to their regrettably less than luxurious lodgings. Have a pleasant stay!

And was gone to a waiting jeep, leaving them in the care of subordinates.

It was clear Dr. Bin was affronted by this reception, and might have spoken his mind but that in the same moment Wang caught the sound of trucks grinding along in low gear. He turned in search of the source, and exclaimed:

“Your equipment’s here!”

Three olive-drab trucks were gingerly breasting the final rise. But the going was rocky, and there was plenty of time before their actual arrival to sort out essential details. Wang tried to keep up with both Bin, who was talking about power-supplies and use of comms facilities, and Sue (he must remember to address her thus) who was discussing opportunities for visiting the forest and the nearby settlements, and in the upshot lost track of both. He was still floundering when—“Wang!”

He snatched himself back to attention.

“Yes, doctor? Uh … I mean: Sue?”

Through her tiredness, which an in-flight doze had done little to relieve, a sketch for a smile.

“This is Mr. Li. He’ll show you where we’re being quartered. Make sure we have decent ablutions. Stash our gear and rejoin me.”

“Right away!”

She hesitated. “One more thing. You’re married, aren’t you?”

Swallowing hard, Wang nodded, trying not to think how hollow that partnership was. Of course, Sue’s husband—hadn’t she said he “ran away”? So she might sympathize.

“You’ll want to tell your wife you’re okay. I asked for a billet close to comms HQ so I can get an early crack at incoming data. Traffic isn’t too heavy yet, not like it’ll be when we start filing our reports. Just say you’re with me and they’ll let you call home.”

She turned back to the person she had been talking to before Wang had time to explain that even nowadays, even in Guangzhou, the pay of a lowly policeman did not stretch to such luxuries as a private phone.

* * * *

Thereafter Wang had to piece together what was happening as best he could. He lent a hand setting up the scientists’ equipment; the technicians who accompanied it were Chinese themselves, but they spoke half the time in English and much of the rest in Japanese, the languages—Wang presumed—of their machines’ instruction manuals. Even what he heard in putonghua baffled him because it was couched in such obscure technical terms. Sue noticed, and sympathized; however, she had no time to elucidate more than snatches. A sense of witnessing history in the making with scarcely a clue to its present import grew ever more frustrating.

Moreover, his conviction that there were no such things as coincidences was undermined still further. What if the thieves had chosen another night to target Sue’s Kawasaki? The man she had stabbed had been located in the hospital. He had confessed to attempted robbery, other members of the gang he belonged to—specialists in stealing cars and motorcycles to order—had been arrested, a decision had been taken very high up not to prosecute Sue… but was “very high” high enough? Or might she suddenly be hauled back to Guangzhou to face a charge of assault? She had plenty of powerful friends, that was obvious. He had had no faintest notion how influential a person he had been directed to meet in the malodorous surroundings of the Tower of Strength. But a person like himself could not even begin to guess how much of her allies’ power was liable to evaporate for secret reasons and without warning.

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