by Simon Ings
Using the gloves, she directed Ah Fu to touch the chessboard, the pieces, and the steaming cup of tea next to them. Her fingertips felt the sudden heat from the cup. Startled, her fingers let go, and the cup fell to the ground and broke. The chessboard was flipped over, and chess pieces rolled all over the place.
“Aiya! Careful, Tongtong!”
“No worries! No worries!” Grandpa Zhao tried to get up to retrieve the broom and dustpan, but Grandpa told him to remain seated. “Careful about your hands!” Grandpa said. “I’ll take care of it.” He put on the gloves and directed Grandpa Zhao’s Ah Fu to pick up the chess pieces one by one, and then swept the floor clean.
Grandpa wasn’t mad at Tongtong, and didn’t threaten to tell Dad about the accident she caused.
“She’s just a kid, a bit impatient,” he said to Grandpa Zhao. The two old men laughed.
Tongtong felt both relieved and a bit misunderstood.
*
Once again, Mom and Dad were arguing with Grandpa.
The argument went a bit differently from before. Grandpa was once again repeating over and over, “Don’t worry, eh!” But Mom’s tone grew more and more severe.
The actual point of the argument grew more confusing to Tongtong the more she listened. All she could make out was that it had something to do with Grandpa Zhao’s heart stent.
In the end, Mom said, “What do you mean ‘Don’t worry’? What if another accident happens? Would you please stop causing more trouble?”
Grandpa got so mad that he shut himself in his room and refused to come out, even for dinner.
Mom and Dad called Uncle Wang on the videophone. Finally, Tongtong figured out what happened.
Grandpa Zhao was playing chess with Grandpa, but the game got him so excited that his heart gave out—apparently, the stent wasn’t put in perfectly. There had been no one else home at the time. Grandpa was the one who operated Ah Fu to give CPR to Grandpa Zhao, and also called an ambulance.
The emergency response team arrived in time and saved Grandpa Zhao’s life.
What no one could have predicted was that Grandpa suggested that he go to the hospital to care for Grandpa Zhao—no, he didn’t mean he’d go personally, but that they send Ah Fu over, and he’d operate Ah Fu from home.
But Grandpa himself needed a caretaker too. Who was supposed to care for the caretaker?
Further, Grandpa came up with the idea that when Grandpa Zhao recovered, he’d teach Grandpa Zhao how to operate the telepresence equipment. The two old men would be able to care for each other, and they would have no need of other caretakers.
Grandpa Zhao thought this was a great idea. But both families thought the plan absurd. Even Uncle Wang had to think about it for a while and then said, “Um… I have to report this situation to my supervisors.”
Tongtong thought hard about this. Playing chess through Ah Fu was simple to understand. But caring for each other through Ah Fu? The more she thought about it, the more complicated it seemed. She was sympathetic to Uncle Wang’s confusion.
Sigh, Grandpa is just like a little kid. He wouldn’t listen to Mom and Dad at all.
*
Grandpa now stayed in his room all the time. At first, Tongtong thought he was still mad at her parents. But then, she found that the situation had changed completely.
Grandpa got really busy. Once again, he started seeing patients. No, he didn’t go to the clinic; instead, using his telepresence kit, he was operating Ah Fus throughout the country and showing up in other elders’ homes. He would listen to their complaints, feel their pulse, examine them, and write out prescriptions. He also wanted to give acupuncture treatments through Ah Fus, and to practice this skill, he operated his own Ah Fu to stick needles in himself!
Uncle Wang told Tongtong that Grandpa’s innovation could transform the entire medical system. In the future, maybe patients no longer needed to go to the hospital and waste hours in waiting rooms. Doctors could just come to your home through an Ah Fu installed in each neighborhood.
Uncle Wang said that Guokr’s R&D department had formed a dedicated task force to develop a specialized, improved model of Ah Fu for such medical telepresence applications, and they invited Grandpa onboard as a consultant. So Grandpa got even busier.
Since Grandpa’s legs were not yet fully recovered, Uncle Wang was still caring for him. But they were working on developing a web-based system that would allow anyone with some idle time and interest in helping others to register to volunteer. Then the volunteers would be able to sign on to Ah Fus in homes across the country to take care of elders, children, patients, pets, and to help in other ways.
If the plan succeeded, it would be a step to bring about the kind of golden age envisioned by Confucius millennia ago: “And then men would care for all elders as if they were their own parents, love all children as if they were their own children. The aged would grow old and die in security; the youthful would have opportunities to contribute and prosper; and children would grow up under the guidance and protection of all. Widows, orphans, the disabled, the diseased—everyone would be cared for and loved.”
Of course, such a plan had its risks: privacy and security, misuse of telepresence by criminals, malfunctions and accidents, just for starters. But since technological change was already here, it was best to face the consequences and guide them to desirable ends.
There were also developments that no one had anticipated.
Uncle Wang showed Tongtong lots of web videos: Ah Fus were shown doing all kinds of interesting things: cooking, taking care of children, fixing the plumbing and electric systems around the house, gardening, driving, playing tennis, even teaching children the arts of go and calligraphy and seal carving and erhu playing…
All of these Ah Fus were operated by elders who needed caretakers themselves, too. Some of them could no longer move about easily, but still had sharp eyes and ears and minds; some could no longer remember things easily, but they could still replicate the skills they had perfected in their youth; and most of them really had few physical problems, but were depressed and lonely. But now, with Ah Fu, everyone was out and about, doing things.
No one had imagined that Ah Fu could be put to all these uses. No one had thought that men and women in their seventies and eighties could still be so creative and imaginative.
Tongtong was especially impressed by a traditional folk music orchestra made up of more than a dozen Ah Fus. They congregated around a pond in a park and played enthusiastically and loudly. According to Uncle Wang, this orchestra had become famous on the web. The operators behind the Ah Fus were men and women who had lost their eyesight, and so they called themselves “The Old Blinds.”
“Tongtong,” Uncle Wang said, “your grandfather has brought about a revolution.”
Tongtong remembered that Mom had often mentioned that Grandpa was an old revolutionary. “He’s been working for the revolution all his life; it’s time for him to take a break.” But wasn’t Grandpa a doctor? When did he participate in a “revolution”? And just what kind of work was “working for the revolution” anyway? And why did he have to do it all his life?
Tongtong couldn’t figure it out, but she thought “revolution” was a splendid thing. Grandpa now once again seemed like the Grandpa she had known.
*
Every day, Grandpa was full of energy and spirit. Whenever he had a few moments to himself, he preferred to sing a few lines of traditional folk opera:
Outside the camp, they’ve fired off the thundering cannon thrice,
And out of Tianbo House walks the woman who will protect her homeland.
The golden helmet sits securely over her silver-white hair,
The old iron-scaled war robe once again hangs on her shoulders.
Look at her battle banner, displaying proudly her name:
Mu Guiying, at fifty-three, you are going to war again!
Tongtong laughed. “But Grandpa, you’re eighty-three!”
Grandpa chuckled.
He stood and posed as if he were an ancient general holding a sword as he sat on his warhorse. His face glowed red with joy.
In another few days, Grandpa would be eighty-four.
*
Tongtong played by herself at home.
There were dishes of cooked food in the fridge. In the evening, Tongtong took them out, heated them up, and ate by herself. The evening air was heavy and humid, and the cicadas cried without cease.
The weather report said there would be thunderstorms.
A blue light flashed three times in a corner of the room. A figure moved out of the corner noiselessly: Ah Fu.
“Mom and Dad took Grandpa to the hospital. They haven’t returned yet.”
Ah Fu nodded.
“Your mother sent me to remind you: don’t forget to close the windows before it rains.”
Together, the robot and the girl closed all the windows in the house. When the thunderstorm arrived, the raindrops struck against the windowpanes like drumbeats. The dark clouds were torn into pieces by the white and purple flashes of lightning, and then a bone-rattling thunder rolled overhead, making Tongtong’s ears ring.
“You’re not afraid of thunder?” asked Ah Fu.
“No. You?”
“I was afraid when I was little, but not now.”
An important question came to Tongtong’s mind: “Ah Fu, do you think everyone has to grow up?”
“I think so.”
“And then what?”
“And then you grow old.”
“And then?”
Ah Fu didn’t respond.
They turned on the video wall to watch cartoons. It was Tongtong’s favorite show: “Rainbow Bear Village.” No matter how heavy it rained outside, the little bears of the village always lived together happily. Maybe everything else in the world was fake; maybe only the world of the little bears was real.
Gradually, Tongtong’s eyelids grew heavy. The sound of rain had a hypnotic effect. She leaned against Ah Fu. Ah Fu picked her up in its arms, carried her into the bedroom, set her down gently in bed, covered her with a blanket, and pulled the curtains shut. Its hands were just like real hands, warm and soft.
Tongtong murmured, “Why isn’t Grandpa back yet?”
“Sleep. When you wake up, Grandpa will be back.”
*
Grandpa did not come back.
Mom and Dad returned. Both looked sad and tired.
But they got even busier. Every day, they had to leave the house and go somewhere. Tongtong stayed home by herself. She played games sometimes, and watched cartoons at other times. Ah Fu sometimes came over to cook for her.
A few days later, Mom called for Tongtong. “I have to talk to you.”
Grandpa had a tumor in his head. The last time he fell was because the tumor pressed against a nerve. The doctor suggested surgery immediately.
Given Grandpa’s age, surgery was very dangerous. But not operating would be even more dangerous. Mom and Dad and Grandpa had gone to several hospitals and gotten several other opinions, and after talking with each other over several nights, they decided that they had to operate.
The operation took a full day. The tumor was the size of an egg.
Grandpa remained in a coma after the operation.
Mom hugged Tongtong and sobbed. Her body trembled like a fish.
Tongtong hugged Mom back tightly. She looked and saw the white hairs mixed in with the black on her head. Everything seemed so unreal.
*
Tongtong went to the hospital with Mom.
It was so hot, and the sun so bright. Tongtong and Mom shared a parasol. In Mom’s other hand was a thermos of bright red fruit juice taken from the fridge.
There were few pedestrians on the road. The cicadas continued their endless singing. The summer was almost over.
Inside the hospital, the air conditioning was turned up high. They waited in the hallway for a bit before a nurse came to tell them that Grandpa was awake. Mom told Tongtong to go in first.
Grandpa looked like a stranger. His hair had been shaved off, and his face was swollen. One eye was covered by a gauze bandage, and the other eye was closed. Tongtong held Grandpa’s hand, and she was scared. She remembered Grandma. Like before, there were tubes and beeping machines all around.
The nurse said Grandpa’s name. “Your granddaughter is here to see you.”
Grandpa opened his eye and gazed at Tongtong. Tongtong moved, and the eye moved to follow her. But he couldn’t speak or move.
The nurse whispered, “You can talk to your grandfather. He can hear you.”
Tongtong didn’t know what to say. She squeezed Grandpa’s hand, and she could feel Grandpa squeezing back.
Grandpa! She called out in her mind. Can you recognize me?
His eyes followed Tongtong.
She finally found her voice. “Grandpa!”
Tears fell on the white sheets. The nurse tried to comfort her. “Don’t cry! Your grandfather would feel so sad to see you cry.”
Tongtong was taken out of the room, and she cried—tears streaming down her face like a little kid, but she didn’t care who saw—in the hallway for a long time.
*
Ah Fu was leaving. Dad packed it up to mail it back to Guokr Technologies.
Uncle Wang explained that he had wanted to come in person to say goodbye to Tongtong and her family. But the city he lived in was very far away. At least it was easy to communicate over long distances now, and they could chat by video or phone in the future.
Tongtong was in her room, drawing. Ah Fu came over noiselessly. Tongtong had drawn many little bears on the paper, and colored them all different shades with crayons. Ah Fu looked at the pictures. One of the biggest bears was colored all the shades of the rainbow, and he wore a black eye patch so that only one eye showed.
“Who is this?” Ah Fu asked.
Tongtong didn’t answer. She went on coloring, her heart set on giving every color in the world to the bear.
Ah Fu hugged Tongtong from behind. Its body trembled. Tongtong knew that Ah Fu was crying.
*
Uncle Wang sent a video message to Tongtong.
Tongtong, did you receive the package I sent you?
Inside the package was a fuzzy teddy bear. It was colored like the rainbow, with a black eye patch, leaving only one eye. It was just like the one Tongtong drew.
The bear is equipped with a telepresence kit and connected to the instruments at the hospital: his heartbeat, breath, pulse, body temperature. If the bear’s eye is closed, that means your grandfather is asleep. If your grandfather is awake, the bear will open its eye.
Everything the bear sees and hears is projected onto the ceiling of the room at the hospital. You can talk to it, tell it stories, sing to it, and your grandfather will see and hear.
He can definitely hear and see. Even though he can’t move his body, he’s awake inside. So you must talk to the bear, play with it, and let it hear your laughter. Then your grandfather won’t be alone.
Tongtong put her ear to the bear’s chest: thump-thump. The heartbeat was slow and faint. The bear’s chest was warm, rising and falling slowly with each breath. It was sleeping deeply.
Tongtong wanted to sleep, too. She put the bear in bed with her and covered it with a blanket. When Grandpa is awake tomorrow, she thought, I’ll bring him out to get some sun, to climb trees, to go to the park and listen to those grandpas and grandmas sing folk opera. The summer isn’t over yet. There are so many fun things to do.
“Grandpa, don’t worry, eh!” she whispered. When you wake up, everything will be all right.
(2014)
Translated by Ken Liu
THESE 5 BOOKS GO 6 FEET DEEP
Ted Hayden
Ted Hayden lives in Southern California, writes short stories, and maintains a homepage at tedhaydenstories.com. The following mischief was cooked up for the science magazine Nature.
Grave robbery. If you think it’s a relic of gothic novels, think
again. Now that the first generation of body-modified tech-bros and computer-implanted one-percenters sleep under tombstones, there’s a ton of gear in the ground. These books teach you everything you need to know to go get it — or, if rotten flesh makes you retch, to live vicariously through those who earn their living digging.
*
The Modern Grave Robber’s How-To Guide
by Anonymous
You can’t buy this practical page-turner on Amazon. Even if you find a store where it’s sold (pro tip: low-key ask an associate in Home Depot’s lawn and garden department), don’t pay with your credit card — you might wind up on a government watch-list.
Written by a grave robber with loads of real-world experience, chapters include ‘How to bribe cemetery staff’ and ‘Detaching valuable limbs’. But be careful — if your dead grandpa got dug up on a dark night, you might see his decapitated head in this guide’s useful (and graphic!) pictures.
*
Second-Hand Subcutaneous Implants: Identification and Value Guide
by Norm Sadowski
Originally written for medical professionals, this has become a grave-robbing essential, the Kelley Blue Book of the cemetery set. Not even the freakiest of the freaky exhume corpses for a love of the stench — they’re in it for the cash, and Second-Hand Subcutaneous Implants breaks down the numbers.
Although less-affluent families raid loved-ones’ corpses before burial, and some debt-riddled morticians steal modifications before sending clients to the crypts, most corpses are buried with at least a few microchips still implanted in their bodies.
Dug up a geezer who died at 90? He’ll probably have had memory-enhancing neural prostheses implanted after a stroke or an Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Market price $5,000. Found an athlete who paraglided into a skyscraper window? Check her limbs for genetic mod microchips. Street value is $7,500.
Remember, though, this book wasn’t written with crooks in mind, so approach its pages using common sense. For example, a brain-embedded password-tracking implant with safe-box codes is worth way more than spare parts if the deceased’s family hasn’t deactivated any accounts. But if they have? You’ll get the list price and no more.
