by Xu, Lei
Gradually everything returned to normal. Covered in cold sweat, I looked over at Wang Sichuan and Pei Qing. They didn't know whether we'd succeeded either. Ivan's voice echoed over the intercom. "We are now flying levelly," he said. "You can undo your seatbelts and begin working."
I didn't even have the strength to breathe a sigh of relief. When I finally got my seatbelt off, Wang Sichuan and I locked eyes. Then I glanced back at Old Tian. He was comatose. Wang Sichuan, I noticed, had thrown up as well. I laughed bitterly to myself. Flying on a plane was nothing like riding a horse. Looking up, I noticed Pei Qing had already walked over to one of the windows and was gazing out. He seemed impatient to get started. Outside the window everything was pitch-black. I yelled for Ivan to switch on the wing-mounted lights. A moment later we could see folds of granite wrinkling the walls of the cave. For some reason, under the bright white lights of the plane, this sight appeared especially strange.
Hello void, I said to myself. I'm here.
CHAPTER
40
Flight Record
We spent the first hour in a mixture of terror, amazement, and exhaustion. It took more than 15 minutes for Old Tian to regain consciousness. Zhu Qiang had also vomited, but he still managed start up the camera attached to the exterior of the plane. We all watched the monitor to see what was being recorded. Outside the plane all was dark and silent. I'll never forget that sight. Even now, when I'm flying somewhere at night, I'll look out the window into the pitch-black sky beyond and be suddenly struck with the feeling that I'm back underground, soaring across the abyss.
"The rock around us is all biotite granite," said Old Tian, back on his feet and cleaning his vomit-soaked face mask. Walking up behind us, he coughed intensely, then continued. "It was formed during the Tertiary Period. I really wish I could take a sample of it."
The small portion of rock illuminated by the plane's floodlights was black and extraordinarily uneven. Old Tian stared at it, pointing out the lines formed in the cliff face by millennia of pressure and lecturing endlessly on geological theory. None of us had seen anything like this before.
Gradually the walls began to recede as the cave widened. It was like flying out the mouth of a horn into a vast open space. Darkness descended and the floodlights ceased to illuminate anything. The rush of airflow softened as the plane slowed down. Soon only the hum of the motor was left. We walked to the middle cabin and lifted the top hatch, revealing the roof of the cave. In this limitless void, the only end in sight was up.
Unexpectedly, the plane began to climb. The higher we flew, the more overwhelming the sight became. I imagined this must have been what the Monkey King had seen after the Tathagata Buddha trapped him beneath Wuxing Mountain. Above us sharp cones of jutting rock had formed from splits in the stone and hung like huge thorns. The ceiling resembled a jagged mountain range seen upside-down. As the plane leveled out, I fantasized that I had reached through the hatch and grabbed onto one of the stones overhead. In my mind I saw the plane flying away; then I was falling through layers of mist down into the abyss until at last I hit bottom.
Our initial excitement soon subsided. The danger had passed. Plus there was nothing really to see. After a moment, Pei Qing rose to his feet and walked to the machine gunner's cabin. Wang Sichuan and I glanced at one another.
"What the hell is that guy up to?" he asked. "Why does he always have to act like such a miserable loner?"
Laughing sadly, I said I'd met people like this before. Working with them was never easy. I figured Pei Qing was just too smart for his own good. It made it hard for him to get along with other people. Think about it; what if you were grouped with others who were both happier and less intelligent than you? You probably wouldn't want to associate with them either.
Over the next several hours we took turns recording our observations, all of them essentially worthless. At this point there was almost nothing to see. Then, three hours later, we began to descend toward the bottom of the abyss.
Each of us crowded against the windows to record our observations. I was standing next to Zhu Qiang and looking down. The mist below was indistinct, resembling a dense layer of cottony clouds. From this far away I almost imagined we could land directly on it, but as we drew closer we could see its surface rippling. I remembered it was filled with mercury. My throat tightened. Wang Sichuan and Pei Qing fired a round of tracers. The light revealed not even the hint of form within the mist. It appeared that the bottom was still far below us, but with our radar jammed by all the heavy metals, the only way to find out was to fly down and see for ourselves.
"Oxygen masks on, everyone," said Ivan, his voice sounding through our earphones. "We're about to descend into the mist."
As a red warning light flashed overhead, we unfortunates all strapped on our masks. The plane rumbled. As our altitude dropped so did visibility. Before long there was nothing outside the window but a dense gray haze.
"How are we supposed to discover anything like this?" asked Wang Sichuan.
During one of our meetings, Old Tian had made a bold hypothesis. He theorized that, like clouds on the surface, the mist down here split the darkness into two parts, higher and lower. The problem was that we had no idea how far down the mist actually went. This was very dangerous. If the mist was too thick, we could easily lose our way and smash into one of the cave walls. Or if Old Tian's hypothesis was incorrect, and the mist continued all the way to the bottom, then we might fly right into the abyssal floor.
Wang Sichuan and Pei Qing continued to fire bright tracers into the haze. We strained to see out of our respective windows, making sure none of the tracers ran into hidden obstacles. No one spoke a word. There had been not one indication that the mist would end.
At last Wang Sichuan spoke up. "Old Tian, you sure you didn't make a mistake? If we descend any farther we're gonna hit bottom. No cloud is this thick."
"You've forgotten that this is a mercury mist," replied Old Tian. "It's not a regular cloud. There's no way for us to estimate how deep this place goes. Our only choice is to risk it." He no longer sounded as confident as he had at the meeting.
Switching on his microphone, Wang Sichuan asked Ivan, "What is our current depth?"
"Ninety-three thousand feet," said Ivan. "Old Tian, if we continue like this we're going to crash."
This figure seemed to surprise Pei Qing. "How far have we descended?" he asked.
"Almost two miles," I answered.
As he looked at the thermometer, a puzzled expression came over his face. "Strange," he said. "The temperature keeps falling."
"What's strange about that?" asked Wang Sichuan. "Of course hell is cold." But then his face suddenly changed. "Wait a second. That's not right at all."
Zhu Qiang still didn't understand. "What are you guys talking about?"
Wang Sichuan explained that the bottom ought to be burning with geothermal heat.
Zhu Qiang's expression grew worried. "Then why would the temperature keep falling?" he asked. "Could the science be wrong?"
"No," replied Old Tian, "the science is correct. The reason the temperature keeps falling is because this extremely dense mist is acting as a natural heat insulator. The air outside of it is surely much hotter."
"So then what are all of you so worried about?" asked Zhu Qiang, baffled.
"The temperature is dropping because the mist is growing thicker the farther we descend," said Old Tian. "However, because mercury requires heat to evaporate, the temperature should be relatively high wherever this process is occurring. Previously we had believed that the bottom of the abyss was covered with pools or deposits of mercury. This became the basis of much of our reasoning. But since the temperature continues to fall, there appears to be a third alternative: perhaps the mercury and the geothermal heat are buried much deeper underground. Thus the mercury is heated up below the ground and rises through cracks to form mist in the cooler air. If that's the case, then there might only be a very small space between the bottom
of the mist and the floor of the abyss."
"In short," said Pei Qing, "the falling temperature means we're already very close to the bottom."
"Pei Qing, you know that's just a guess," said Old Tian.
"No," replied Pei Qing, "it's not. The falling temperature proves it. By now, I'd say we're only three thousand feet up. If the bottom is mountainous, we're screwed."
Wang Sichuan immediately switched on his mic and warned Ivan. Just as the words left his mouth, Zhu Qiang cried for us to come quick. I hurried over. The dark shape of a mountain peak loomed out of the mist. The plane practically scraped its rocky face as we flew past.
I glanced over at Wang Sichuan. "Pull up!" he cried into his mic. "We're going to crash!"
Ivan made no response. Maybe he still hadn't understood. Wanting to get a closer look at the mountain, I climbed swiftly into the gun turret. A moment later, numberless black, jagged peaks appeared where before there had been only mist—a mountain range made entirely of enormous stone. These were remnants of the cones we'd seen hanging from the ceiling, fallen over thousands of years and piling up on the abyssal floor. Wang Sichuan rushed into the cockpit, although by now Ivan must have been long since aware of the terrifying scene before us. He pulled back on the control column.
I watched as we coasted just over the dark mountains. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead as I turned to look back. We were so close to being rubble. Before I could begin to catch my breath, a loud curse sounded from the cockpit. I look forward. A towering form—shaped like a horse's head and absolutely enormous—had suddenly emerged out of the mist before us.
Ivan reacted instinctively, yanking the plane over, tilting it 70 degrees to the side. The force of the turn threw me against the side of the turret. Pressed against the window, I gazed on as we cut sideways, arcing alongside the dark shape. At last it burst from the mist no more than 30 feet from the belly of our plane. In a daze, I watched with perfect clarity as a wall of dark rock swept past. My heartbeat was no longer quickening. It had simply stopped. I imagine my blood had probably frozen in my veins. I distinctly remember every detail of those moments. It could not have taken longer than 13 seconds, but to me it felt endless. By the end of it the plane was on its side, one wing straight up and the other straight down. Bombers cannot barrel roll. Like turtles, once they flip over they cannot flip back. Ivan immediately attempted to right the plane. I could hear him roaring up front. I knew he was no longer thinking, just acting purely on instinct. Unable to help myself, I, too, began to yell.
When I opened my eyes a moment later, I saw something suddenly sweep past overhead. Before I could register my surprise, a sharp cliff appeared from out of the mist, smashing into the gun turret and shattering the windows around me. Amid the thundering crash and flying glass I shielded my neck. Gale-force winds rushed in through the opening, nearly blowing me out of the plane. I grabbed onto the safety handle.
The scene was breathtaking. With the glass gone, it was as if I was standing exposed atop the plane. My field of vision was incredibly vast. Braving the wind, I stood and took in my surroundings. Then I looked down.
I gasped.
There, deep within the dark shapes rising from the bottom of the abyss, I saw a faint light.
CHAPTER
41
The Bottom of the Abyss
A moment later the plane righted itself and my view of the light was gone. At first I doubted what I'd seen. Perhaps amid all the tossing and turning I'd mistaken the light of the tracers for something else.
But the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became. The light had been far away, hidden between the dark shapes on the abyssal floor. The plane made several more tight turns, banking from side to side. I stuck my head through the broken window to get a better view, but the light never reappeared. I undid my harness and scurried back down to the passenger cabin so fast I almost fell.
The cabin was in total disarray. Zhu Qiang was bleeding from the forehead and our things were scattered everywhere. As I stepped from the ladder, a loose flashlight suddenly dropped and knocked me on the head, the pain so bad that tears came to my eyes. An instant later Wang Sichuan appeared.
"Are you all right?" he asked. "What was that noise up there?"
I was too agitated to respond. Like a madman, I rushed headlong toward one of the windows and looked out. Darkness greeted my eyes. I could see nothing. As the plane made another steep turn I grabbed for the safety bar, nearly toppling over.
"Put on your seatbelt!" Wang Sichuan shouted to me.
Fumbling wildly, I managed to clip myself in.
"What are you looking for?" he asked.
"Lights! I saw lights down there."
His eyes went wide. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure!" I yelled.
At once he, too, ran to the window. The others quickly followed suit. "Where is it?" he cried.
"You can't see them anymore," I said. "The angle's not right."
Wang Sichuan checked one window, then another, but still couldn't see anything. He looked quizzically back at me. I knew there was no use trying to convince him. With all the tracers that had been fired, even I couldn't be completely certain. As the plane leveled out, the shapes below receded even farther into the darkness. Looking down at them, I wondered about the light. Suddenly Pei Qing clapped his hands and motioned for us to come quick. We rushed over and looked out. As the plane passed over a dark mountain, a huge swath of lights expanded into view. No way could this be tracers. We stared in slack-jawed disbelief. Gradually the lights disappeared as the mist once more enveloped the plane. Soon the dark mountains were gone as well.
"We made it!" shouted Ivan, his voice sounding in our earphones as the plane began to ascend.
A moment later, his copilot climbed back into the cabin and up to the gun turret to inspect the damage. One after another we drew back from the windows and slumped to the floor. Our initial fear and astonishment had become a chaos of competing emotions.
"Could those goddamned things really have been manmade?" asked Zhu Qiang, his face ashen. "Who's down there?"
"Is it really the Japs?" asked Wang Sichuan, banging his head against the bulkhead. "Did they really make it all the way to the bottom?"
"Maybe it's some natural phenomenon," continued Zhu Qiang. "Phosphorescence? Electrical energy?"
We all shook our heads. First of all, I had never witnessed an instance of that much natural light in my whole life, and more importantly, it was much too steady, never even flickering. No, I said to myself, that was definitely lamplight. It made me think of the Legend of the Fox Spirit, the story Pei Qing had told about a ghost world concealed deep within the cave. Could there really be some unearthly paradise beneath the mist and mountains? I thought of all the equipment and supplies we'd seen in the warehouse, of the continuously repeating message sent back from the abyss. Had we underestimated the Japanese? Rather than just airdropping in a few men, had they established an entire outpost?
We held a brief meeting to discuss what we'd seen, although Wang Sichuan, Pei Qing and I knew it was pointless. We were well aware that intellectualizing would solve nothing. Afterwards, Pei Qing took the microphone and told Ivan to note our coordinates and pay attention to the route on the way back.
Suddenly, the copilot called out from inside the gun turret. "To the left! We have a situation off to the left!"
Old Tian and the others rushed to the windows and looked out. They weren't going to see anything from that vantage. I climbed back into the turret. "Where is it?" I asked the copilot. "What kind of situation?"
"Those lights!" he said. "Those lights are following us!"
I looked to where he was pointing. Sure enough, several lights shone dimly through the mist to the left of the plane. They were no more than 1,000 feet away. At first I thought they must be lights from the ground somehow visible up here, but they were different. There were only three or four of them and they were blinking steadily. We continued to climb
, the lights following our movements so closely it seemed almost as if they weren't moving at all. Several times Ivan sped up or slowed down and each time the lights followed suit. As we readied ourselves for combat, my heart filled with dread. Whatever this thing was, it had come from the abyss. We had drawn it out.
But it was definitely not alive. Looking at the flickering lights, I became convinced it was some kind of machine, though it was impossible to tell what it looked like.
The copilot turned to me and whispered, "It's a plane."
Had the Japs built an airport in the abyss and sent a fighter plane to follow us? The pilot would already be an old man. The only way to know for sure was to fly out of the mist and see if it followed.
