Hold Up The Sky

by Liu Cixin

  “Excellent. Then set a final destination on the atomic clock and put everyone into supersleep. No one is to wake up until that destination is reached.”

  “And that destination is …”

  “Eleven thousand years.”

  Again, Hua entered the ambassador’s fragmented consciousness, more real than ever: his dark hair floated about in the chill wind, his eyes wet with tears, and he called out to her. Before she entered the void of unconsciousness, she said to him, “Hua, we’re coming home! We’re coming home!”

  THE TREK

  Outside of perception, the sun swept through the sky like a shooting star, and time slipped past in the outside world.

  … 1,000 years … 2,000 years … 3,500 years … 5,500 years … 7,000 years … 9,000 years … 10,000 years … 11,000 years.

  STOP 4: BACK HOME

  This time, even in supersleep time felt endless. Over the long ten-thousand-year night, the hundred-century wait, even the computer steadfastly controlling the world’s two hundred superfreezers went to sleep.

  During the final millennium, parts began to fail, and one by one its myriad sensor-eyes closed, its integrated circuit nerves paralyzed, its fusion reactor energy petered out, leaving the freezers holding at zero through the final decades only by virtue of their insulation. Then the temperature began to rise, quickly reaching dangerous levels, and the liquid helium began to evaporate. Pressure rose dramatically inside the supersleep chambers, and it seemed as if the eleven-thousand-year trek would terminate unconsciously in an explosion.

  But then, the computer’s last remaining set of open eyes noticed the time on the atomic clock, and the tick of the final second called its ancient memory to send out a weak signal to boot up the wake-up system. A nuclear magnetic resonance pulse melted the cellular liquid within the bodies of the advance-team captain and a hundred squad members from near absolute zero in a fraction of a second, and then elevated it to normal body temperature. A day later they emerged from the freezer. A week later, the ambassador and the entire migration commission were awakened.

  When the huge freezer door was open just a crack, a breath of wind came in from the outside. The ambassador inhaled the outside air; unlike that of the previous three ages, it carried the scent of flowers. It was the smell of springtime, of home. She was practically certain that the decision she made ten thousand years ago was the correct one.

  The ambassador and the commissioners crossed into the age of their final destination.

  The ground beneath their feet was covered in green grass as far as the eye could see. Just outside the freezer door was a brook of clear water in which beautiful, colored stones were visible on the riverbed and fish swam leisurely. A few young advance-team members washed their faces in the brook, where mud covered their bare feet and a light breeze carried off their laughter. A blue sky held snow-white clouds and just one sun. An eagle circled languidly and smaller birds called. In the distance, the mountain range that had vanished ten thousand years ago during the Lobby Age was back again against the sky, topped with a thick forest….

  To the ambassador, the world before them seemed rather bland after the previous three ages, but she wept hot tears for its blandness. Adrift for eleven thousand years, she—and all of them—needed this, a world soft and warm as goose down into which they could lay their fractured, exhausted minds.

  The plain held no signs of human life.

  The advance-team captain came over to face the focused attention of the ambassador and the commissioners, the stare of the day of judgment for humanity.

  “It’s all over,” he said.

  Everyone knew the significance of his words. They stood silent between the sacred blue sky and green grass as they accepted this reality.

  “Do you know why?” the ambassador asked.

  The captain shook his head.

  “Because of the environment?”

  “No, not the environment. It wasn’t war, either. Nor any other reason we can think of.”

  “Are there any remains?”

  “No. They left nothing behind.”

  The commissioners gathered round and launched into an urgent interrogation:

  “Any signs of an off-world migration?”

  “No. All nearby planets have returned to an undeveloped state, and there are no signs of interstellar migration.”

  “There’s really nothing left behind? No ruins or records of any kind?”

  “That’s right. There’s nothing. The mountains were restored using stone and dirt extracted from the ocean. Vegetation and the ecology have returned nicely, but there’s no sign of any work by human hands. Ancient sites are present up to one century before the Common Era, but there’s nothing more recent. The ecosystem has been running on its own for around five thousand years, and the natural environment now resembles the Neolithic period, although with far fewer species.”

  “How could there be nothing left?”

  “There’s nothing they wanted to say.”

  At this, they all fell silent.

  Then the captain said to the ambassador, “You anticipated this, didn’t you? You must have thought of the reason.”

  “We can know the reason, but we’ll never understand it. It’s a reason rooted deeply in philosophy. When their contemplation of existence reached its highest point, they concluded that nonexistence was the most rational choice.”

  “I told you that philosophy scares me.”

  “Fine. Let’s drop philosophy for the moment.” The ambassador took a few steps forward and turned to face the commission.

  “The migrants have arrived. Thaw them all out!”

  A last burst of powerful energy from the two hundred fusion reactors produced an NMR pulse to thaw out eighty million people. The next day, humanity emerged from the freezers and spread out onto continents that had been unpeopled for thousands of years. Tens of thousands gathered on the plain outside Freezer No. 1 as the ambassador stood facing them on a huge platform before the entrance. Few of them were listening, but they spread her words to the rest like ripples through water.

  “Citizens, we had planned to travel one hundred and twenty years but have arrived here at last after eleven thousand. You have now seen everything. They’re gone, and we’re the only surviving humans. They left nothing behind, but they left everything behind. We’ve been searching for even a few words from them since awaking, but we’ve found nothing. There’s nothing at all. Did they really have nothing to say? No! They did, and they said it. The blue sky, the green earth, the mountains and forests, all of this re-creation of nature is what they wanted to say. Look at the green of the land: This is our mother. The source of our strength! The foundation of our existence and our eternal resting place! Humanity will still make mistakes in the future, and will still trek through the desert of misery and despair, but so long as we remain rooted in Mother Earth we won’t disappear like they did. No matter the difficulty, life and humanity will endure. Citizens, this is our world now, and we embark on a new round for humanity. We begin with nothing except all that humanity has to offer.”

  The ambassador took out the quantum chip from the Lobby Age, and held that sum total of human knowledge up for everyone to see. Then, she froze as her eyes were drawn to a tiny black dot flying swiftly over the crowd. As it drew near, she saw the black hair she’d glimpsed countless times in her dreams, and the eyes that had turned to dust a hundred centuries ago. Hua had not remained eleven thousand years in the past, but had come after her in the end, crossing the ceaseless desert of time in her wake. When they embraced, sky, earth, and human became one.

  “Long live the new life!” someone shouted.

  “Long live the new life!” resounded the plain. A flock of birds flew overhead, singing joyously.

  At the close of everything, everything began.

  1 Verse translated by Witter Bynner (1881–1968).

  2 A quotation from “Seeing Off Yuan Er on a Mission to Anxi” by Tang Dynasty poet Wang Wei (
699–759).

  2018-04-01

  TRANSLATED BY JOHN CHU

  It’s yet another day when I can’t make up my mind. I’ve been dragging my feet for a couple of months already, as though I were walking through a pool of thick, heavy sludge. I feel my life being used up dozens of times faster than before—where “before” is before the Gene Extension program was commercialized. And before I came up with my plan.

  I gaze into the distance from a window on the top floor of an office building. The city spreads below me like an exposed silicon die, and me no more than an electron running along its dense nanometer-thick routes. In the scheme of things, that’s how small I am. The decisions I make are no big deal. If I could only make a decision … But as so many times before, I can’t decide. The waffling continues.

  Hadron shows up late, again, bringing a gust of wind with him into the office. He has a bruise on his face. A bandage is stuck on his forehead, but he seems very self-possessed. He holds his head high, as though a medal were stuck there. His desk is opposite mine. He sits down, turns on his computer, then stares at me, clearly waiting for me to ask a question. However, I’m not interested.

  “Did you see it on TV last night?” Hadron finally asks.

  He’s talking about the “Fair Life” attack on a hospital downtown, also the biggest Gene Extension Center in the country. Two long, black burn scars mar the hospital’s snow-white exterior as though dirty hands had fondled the face of a jade-like beauty. Frightening. “Fair Life” is the largest and also most extreme of the many groups opposed to Gene Extension. Hadron is a member, but I didn’t see him on TV. The crowd outside the hospital had roiled like the tide.

  “We just had an all-hands,” I say in response. “You know the company policy. Keep this up and you won’t have a way to feed yourself.”

  Gene Extension is short for Gene Reforming Life-Extension Technology. By removing those gene segments that produce the aging clock, humanity’s typical life span can be extended to as long as three hundred years. This technology was first commercialized five years ago, and it quickly became a disaster that’s spread to every society and government in the world. Though it’s widely coveted, almost no one can afford it. Gene Extension for one person costs as much as a mansion, and the already widening gap between the rich and the poor suddenly feels even more insurmountable.

  “I don’t care,” Hadron says. “I’m not going to live even a hundred years. What do I have to care about?”

  Smoking is strictly prohibited in the office, but Hadron lights a cigarette now. Like he’s trying to show just how little he cares.

  “Envy. Envy is hazardous to your health.” I wave away the smoke from my eyes. “The past also had lots of people who died too early because they couldn’t afford to pay the medical bills.”

  “That’s not the same thing. Practically everyone can afford health care. Now, though, the ninety-nine percent look helplessly at the one percent who have all the money and will live to be three hundred. I’m not afraid to admit I’m envious. It’s envy that’s keeping society fair.” He leans in toward me from the table. “Are you so sure you’re not envious? Join us.”

  Hadron’s gaze makes me shiver. For a moment, I wonder if he’s looking through me. Yes, I want to become who he envies. I want to become a Gene Extended person.

  But the fact is, I don’t have much money. I’m in my thirties and still have an entry-level job. It’s in the finance department, though. Plenty of opportunities to embezzle funds. After years of planning, it’s all done. Now, I only have to click my mouse, and the five million I need for Gene Extension will go into my secret bank account. From there, it’ll be transferred to the Gene Extension Center’s account. I’ve installed layers upon layers of camouflage into the labyrinthian financial system. It’ll be at least half a year before they discover the money is missing. When they do, I’ll lose my job, I’ll be sentenced, I’ll lose everything I own, I’ll suffer the disapproving gazes of countless people …

  But, by then, I’ll be someone who can live for three hundred years.

  And yet I’m still hesitating.

  I’ve researched the statutes carefully. The penalties for corruption are five million yuan and at most twenty years. After twenty years, I’ll still have over two hundred years of useful life ahead of me. The question now is, given that the math is so simple, can I really be the only one planning something like that? In fact, besides crimes that get the death penalty, once you’ve become one of Gene Extended, they’re all worth committing. So, how many people are there like me, who’ve planned it but are hesitating? This thought makes me want to act right now and, at the same time, makes me flinch.

  What makes me waver the most, though, is Jian Jian. Before I met her, I didn’t believe there was any love in the world. After I met her, I didn’t believe that there was anything but love in the world. If I leave her, what would be the point in living even two thousand years? On the scales of life, two and a half centuries sits on one side and the pain of leaving Jian Jian sits on the other. The scales are practically balanced.

  The head of our department calls a meeting, and I can guess from the look on his face that it isn’t to discuss work. Rather, it’s directed at a specific person. Sure enough, the chief says, today, he wants to talk about the “intolerable” conduct of some of the staff. I don’t look at Hadron, but I know he’s in trouble. The chief, however, says someone else’s name.

  “Liu Wei, according to reliable sources, you joined the IT Republic?”

  Liu Wei nods, as self-assured as Louis XVI walking to the guillotine. “This has nothing to do with work. I don’t want work interfering with my personal freedoms.”

  The chief sternly shakes his head. He thrusts a finger at Liu Wei. “Very few things have nothing to do with work. Don’t bring your cherished university ideals into the workplace. If a country can condemn its president on Main Street, that’s called democracy. However, if everyone disobeys their boss, then this country will collapse.”

  “The virtual nation is about to be recognized.”

  “Recognized by whom? The United Nations? Or a world power? Stop dreaming.”

  The chief doesn’t seem to have much faith in his last utterance. The territory human society owns is divided into two parts. One part is every continent and island on Earth. The other part is cyberspace.

  The latter recapitulated human history at a hundred times the speed. In cyberspace, after tens of years of a disorganized Stone Age, nations emerged as a matter of course. Virtual nations chiefly stem from two sources. The first is every sort of bulletin-board system aggregated together. The second is massively multiplayer online games. Virtual nations have heads of state and legislatures similar to those of physical nations. They even have online armed forces. Their borders and citizenships are not like those of physical nations. Virtual nations chiefly take belief, virtue, and occupation as their organizing principles. Citizens of every virtual nation are spread all over the world. Virtual nations, with a combined population of over two billion, established a virtual United Nations comparable to the physical one. It’s a huge political entity that overlaps the traditional nations.

  The IT Republic is a superpower in the virtual world. Its population is eighty million and still rapidly growing. The country is composed mostly of IT professionals, and makes aggressive political demands. It also has formidable power against the physical world. I don’t know what Liu Wei’s citizenship is. They say that the head of the IT Republic is an ordinary employee of some IT company. Conversely, more than one head of a physical nation has been exposed as an ordinary citizen of a virtual nation.

  The chief gives everyone on our team a stern warning. No one can have a second nationality. He allows Liu Wei to go to the president’s office, then he ends the meeting. We haven’t even risen from our seats when Zheng Lili, who had stayed at her desk during the meeting, lets out a head-splitting scream. Something horrible has happened. We rush to turn on the news.

&nb
sp; Back at my desk I pull up a news site. A broadcast is streaming on the homepage; the newsreader is in a daze. He announces that the United Nations has voted down Resolution 3617. That was the IT Republic’s request for diplomatic recognition. It had passed the Security Council. In response, the IT Republic has declared war against the physical world. It began attacking the world’s financial systems half an hour ago.

  I look at Liu Wei. This seems to have surprised him, too.

  The picture changes to that of a large city, a bird’s-eye view of a street of tall buildings, and a traffic jam. People stream out of cars and buildings. It’s like the aftermath of an earthquake. The shot cuts to a large supermarket. A crowd pushes in like the tide. Madly, they scramble for cans and packages of food. Row after row of shelves shake and crash into each other, like sandbars broken up by a tidal wave….

  “What’s happening?” I ask, terrified.

  “You still don’t understand?” Zheng Lili asks. “There’s no rich or poor anymore. Everyone is penniless. Steal or you won’t eat!”

  Of course, I understand, but I don’t dare to believe this nightmare is real. Coins and paper money stopped circulating three years ago. Even buying a pack of cigarettes from a kiosk on the side of the street requires a card reader. In this total information age, what is wealth? Ultimately, it’s no more than strands of pulses and magnetic marks inside computer storage. As far as this grand office building is concerned, if the electronic records in relevant departments are deleted, even though a company holds title deeds, no one will recognize its property rights. What is money? Money isn’t worth shit. Money is just a strand of electromagnetic marks even smaller than bacteria and pulses that disappear in a flash. As far as the IT Republic is concerned, close to half the IT workers in the physical world are its citizens. Erasing those marks is extremely easy.