by Xu, Lei
Leaving the stone mountains behind, we began our ascent. I climbed to my feet and looked back. The rocks had been mostly cleared out. The big chunk we'd smashed into was tumbling into the darkness. Our gunfire had done the trick. Had that big piece of granite not been riddled with bullets, no way would it have toppled so easily. The wreckage of our plane, not the rock, would now be rolling down the mountain.
The sound of Ivan's wild laughter echoed over the earphones. "I love you all!" he cried.
Near collapse, I grabbed the safety strap to keep myself from falling. Suddenly I thought of Yuan Xile. After she said yes to Ivan's proposal, the damn Soviet must have laughed to shake the heavens. This man belonged to the sky. How could Yuan Xile have ever refused him?
"All right, Old Wu," said Wang Sichuan, an edge to his voice, "it's time you came down here and explained a few things. Just what the hell were you two plotting up there?"
"I'll tell you in a moment," I said. Then, with no strength left, I closed my eyes.
CHAPTER
44
The Figure
I remained sitting in the gun turret, lost in thought and gazing at the darkness surrounding me. Never in my life had I so badly wanted a cigarette. I tried to think about what had just happened. Instead I found myself remembering when we'd first assembled in Jiamusi. Could I ever have imagined at the time that something like this would happen? In fact, if someone told me now it was all just a dream, I wouldn't have necessarily doubted them. Still, as I looked around, I couldn't deny that everything seemed real as could be.
Again Wang Sichuan's voice sounded over the earphones, saying that if I didn't come this instant, he was going to climb up and drag me down himself. I rose lazily, descended the ladder and told them what had happened. His face red and vomit-smeared, Old Tian reminded me that he was partially in charge of this mission. Why had I not discussed this with him beforehand? This was a serious error, he said, and if he chose to report me, I would find myself in big trouble.
Why the hell couldn't this guy have just choked on his own vomit? I thought. I'd always figured Old Tian wasn't that bad of a guy, just an old-fashioned intellectual who'd been raised within the Party. Of course he was accustomed to doing everything by the books and always respecting the established hierarchy. Back then all the puffed-up members of the intelligentsia acted this way. It didn't necessarily mean they believed what they were saying. At this moment I had no desire to argue with him. I just turned and walked away.
Old Tian was no good at dealing with people like me. All he could do was mumble inaudibly to himself. When he saw no one was coming to his assistance, he quickly stopped talking. I could never have known that ignoring Old Tian like this would one day come back to haunt me, but that occurred later. It has nothing to do with our current story.
At last we began heading back. To save fuel, Ivan turned off some of the plane's searchlights. It was during these calm hours that I first conceived of writing down our experiences. The idea came upon me suddenly, as if someone had planted it in my brain. It surprised me. I'd never been particularly interested in literature.
By this point we'd spent seven hours in this flying heap of metal, neither eating nor drinking. I needed to piss badly, but more than anything we all craved tobacco. The feeling clawed at us, until every moment was torment. Eventually, Wang Sichuan figured out a way to smoke behind his facemask. Pei Qing and I just closed our eyes and relaxed.
The stillness was broken three hours later by a strange noise and the cabin lights blacking out. At first we were all very nervous, but the copilot appeared and told us it was merely a problem with an electrical circuit and that he would go check it out. We sat in the darkness listening to the roar of the engine. I walked back into the cockpit. Old Tian made sure to follow close behind. A pitch-black expanse stretched out in front of us, the cockpit itself lit only by the green glow of the instrument panel. Ivan's face was pale within the gloom.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"No, not for the moment, at least," he said. "I can control how much fuel we use. The rest is up to Fate."
"Flying like this doesn't frighten you?" I asked, pointing at the darkness ahead.
"Planes are different than cars. When flying at night we generally rely entirely on guided navigation. In any case, repairing the light circuit should be a simple matter."
As soon as he said this, the plane's headlights flashed on and off, as if they were almost fixed. I relaxed and was about to leave when something hit me. Just now, when the lights had briefly turned on, I'd seen something outside the plane. I looked for it again, but everything was shrouded in darkness. My initial inclination was to forget about it, but the more I thought, the stranger it seemed. We could afford no more mistakes.
I ran back into the cabin and yelled for Wang Sichuan to fire a string of tracers into the darkness. Wang Sichuan was still badly shaken and now assumed something else had gone wrong. Swearing, he ran to the window and began to fire. Back in the cockpit, I moved to the window to get a closer look. There really was something out there. Straining my eyes, I could see it in the star-like light of the tracers. My knees went weak. Staring out of the darkness were two gigantic, sunken eyes, gazing at us as we flew past.
The eyes were unimaginably huge, their sockets so deep that my blood froze as I looked at them. I was too shocked to speak. I could hear Wang Sichuan mumbling to himself over the earphones.
"My God," he said, "what is that?"
We flew closer and closer. Before long I saw an enormous face, dark and grotesque and at least five stories tall. By now we were flying very steadily. The face almost appeared to be moving out of the darkness towards us.
"Looks like this was the figure in the film," said Ivan, his voice almost indifferent. "I never expected it to be this big."
"Light it up with more tracers!" I yelled toward the cabin. A moment later another of the aircraft guns began to fire. As the brightness increased, the thing's body was revealed, standing amid dense clouds of mist. No one spoke. The only sounds were the blasts of gunfire. Everyone's attention was completely focused on the figure. As we drew closer I could see its massive body was pockmarked with countless dark holes. They were pressed close together, as if eaten through by worms. I looked on in silence, my body ice-cold, as I remembered the rotted corpses in the boarded-up room. But this was stone, not flesh, the luster of its body identical to the rocks surrounding it. Someone had carved this thing.
I stared at the strange stone face. This wasn't an image of the Buddha, nor could I think of any other ancient figure it might be depicting. The face was rough and crudely carved. I couldn't figure out how this thing had been made. Had some ancient people really entered the abyss? Had they really carved a massive figure amid the mountains of stone jutting from the void? Who were they?
Even with our modern technology we were unable to plumb the depths of the abyss; not only had someone explored its very bottom, but they'd left behind a structure of awe-inspiring proportions.
CHAPTER
45
Pei Qing
We were silent for a moment. "This is an ancient statue," Old Tian mumbled over the earphones. "What is it doing down here?"
"It probably fell through during a cave-in," said Pei Qing. "After being carved on the surface, this Kua Fu must have dropped underground during an earthquake." (Translator’s note: Kua Fu was a mythical Chinese giant who died of exhaustion after chasing, and failing to catch, the sun.)
"Is that possible?" asked Old Tian.
"I think it's a lot more possible than the ancients entering the abyss and carving the statue down here," said Pei Qing.
Was that really what had happened? I sensed the abyss was hiding many other secrets, ones that we could never even begin to imagine.
The plane continued to approach the colossus, until we were only 50 feet away. From here we could clearly make out the holes dotting its body, each of them big enough to fit a person. Looking at them, I couldn't
help but feel that something was hidden inside. Unfortunately, after only a moment we'd flown past. Before we could take a closer look at the figure, it was already behind us, receding into the darkness.
"It's a shame we couldn't pause for a few minutes and look," said Wang Sichuan. "I'd give a prize to the man who invents a plane that can stop in place."
"Stopping may not have been necessary," said Pei Qing.
"That's right," said Old Tian. "Zhu Qiang, did you film it?"
"Yeah," he said. "I got it."
"Good," Old Tian sighed. "Then our mission is complete." It looked like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Just then there was a buzzing sound from outside. A moment later, the plane's surface lights and searchlights all turned back on.
"You all right?" asked Ivan.
Slapping myself, I tried to get my brain working again. In my whole life I'd never seen anything so strange, yet I actually felt very tranquil, so tranquil I was momentarily unable to think. Looking at me, Ivan shook his head and laughed.
"You didn't find that at all incredible?" I asked him.
"What I find most incredible is that we're still alive," he said. After pausing for a moment, he continued. "That's right. We need to get rid of some weight to save fuel. Tell the others to go through our supplies. Anything we can get rid of needs to go, the sooner, the better. I'll open the bomb bay doors."
The first thing I thought of was Wang Sichuan. Laughing to myself, I walked back into the cabin and told the others what was going on. Most of them were still in a state of shock. I clapped them each on the back and they gradually got moving, albeit very slowly; thus it remained up to me to get rid of most of the stuff. The bullets and aircraft guns were the heaviest of the lot. We started to dismantle them. Wang Sichuan was loath to part with the weapons. Having hunted with old iron rifles since a young age, his feelings toward guns were difficult for outsiders to understand.
With the bomb bay doors open, a cold wind swirled through the air. I moved the dismantled guns onto the track and pushed them through the opening. In an instant they'd dropped away into the void. Next I wrapped up the ammunition belts and some other supplies and pushed them through as well.
Not even the mist was visible through the open hatch. The giant figure had vanished in the darkness. For a moment I was lost in thought. Then I heard something behind me. It was Pei Qing. He was clutching a canvas bag. After shutting the door, he walked over and lit a cigarette. There was something strange in his expression. I asked him what was going on
He smiled at me. "There's something I need to say to you."
I looked him over. What was this guy scheming about now?
"I've heard about your background," he said. "You, too, were also born a member of the Five Black Classes. You must know the effort it took for your father to finally shed this stigma. I never knew my mother and father. I was raised by foster parents. They didn't mistreat me, but they didn't truly care about me either. When I was growing up, nobody in my village ever told me anything about my mother. They wouldn't even say her name. But they never let me forget that my mother's identity made her child a second-class citizen."
I knew what he was talking about. This was the disease of those years, but why was he suddenly bringing it up now?
"For a long time I had no idea what my mother had done," he continued. "Only later did I learn that my parents were Japanese. Can you imagine what it must have felt like for me, after receiving all those years of anti-Japanese education, to learn that I was in fact Japanese?" Although I didn't answer Pei Qing's question, I suddenly felt a measure of compassion for him. "If I am Japanese, then why was I left in China? And if I am Chinese, then why do they say I have Japanese blood?"
As he spoke, I could detect no anger in his words. He must have asked himself this question countless times. He was merely saying aloud something that had been hardening his heart ever since he was young.
"Once I became an adult, I began searching for my parents' whereabouts. I needed an answer. Either I would find them or I would learn they were dead. I examined endless archives and searched all across the country. I finally located my parents' names in some old record books. They were Japanese geological engineers and, after joining a project in Inner Mongolia, they both disappeared. In my parents' absence, I was entrusted to the care of their friends, but when I was three years old they returned to Japan and left me behind. It was only after learning this that I decided to join this assignment."
I stared into the darkness beneath the bomb bay door. "You mean, your parents were...?"
Pei Qing smiled and gazed out the window, the look in his eyes vacant, yet burning with fervent hope. The pieces suddenly came together. I remembered the woman approaching the Japanese officer in the secret footage. At the time she'd felt familiar, but I couldn't figure out how. Could she have been Pei Qing's…?
Before I could finish this thought, I saw him slip the canvas bag he was carrying onto his back. It was a parachute.
"In the end," he said, "I am certain that they entered the abyss." He turned to face me. "You'll find my bag in the cabin. Inside are all the national grain coupons I've saved. Give them to my foster parents for me. Once I'm gone, do your best to get all the wages coming to me as a fallen soldier. My little brother should be able to use this money to attend university."
"Have you lost your mind? Too many years have passed since then. Even if they did go down there they'd have to be dead by now."
"What does it matter to me whether they're dead or alive?"
"You're not bringing enough food. The abyss is much too big. You'll starve to death before you even find them."
"I have seventy hours," he said. "You remember that expanse of lights? I think it's over there."
I could say nothing in reply.
"No one else is going to know what happened to me after I jump. I'm sure you're aware that if you tell them what I just told you, they're going to place you under investigation. Just say I went crazy from the poison. That way no one else will be implicated."
Shaking my head firmly, I started towards him. He pulled a pistol from his waistband. I flung myself at him but it was too late. He fired and in a burst of pain I fell to the ground. In the same instant I looked up only to see him leap through the hatch into the blackness. A moment later he disappeared into the void. It was too dark to even see his parachute open.
After lying there dazed for a moment, I got back to my feet and returned to the cabin. The others immediately crowded around me, but the pain in my chest made speaking impossible. I pushed them away, all except Wang Sichuan, who examined the wound. It wasn't life threatening, but I was afraid the poison might enter it. Pei Qing hadn't been aiming to kill. Had he wanted to, he could have shot me point-blank in the head. Still, having never been shot before, I was surprised at the severity of the pain. It was way worse than anything you see in the movies.
Wang Sichuan asked me what happened. I told him Pei Qing had gone mad. It worked like a charm, just as he'd expected. More than anything else, I was just shocked. Even the fact that Pei Qing had shot me seemed insignificant. Where was he now? That was all I could think. He had only 70 hours to find a possibly illusive outpost amid the deep valleys and stone peaks of the abyssal floor, and there was no way for him to get back.
I couldn't pass judgment on Pei Qing's decision. I knew all about the misfortunes of the Black Generation. Throughout time, those hurt by war had always taken out their anger on such children who, through no fault of their own were born members of the "enemy." For Pei Qing the words "your mother is Japanese" must have taken on the weight of a terrible curse, invading his dreams and waking him from sleep every night. Leaving the house in the morning, he was probably greeted with stones and spit. He both longed for his mother's love and hated her for what he had to go through. I'm not sure whether readers still remember how Pei Qing cried after we excavated the frozen corpse of the female soldier. Seeing her, he must have thought
of the similar fate that probably befell his own mother. And hearing the dirty insults laid upon her, he must have recalled the things often said to him as a child.
But none of that mattered anymore. Pei Qing was gone. He'd left this story to begin his own. We, on the other hand, had to continue on—flying home through the darkness.
CHAPTER
46
Silent Welcome
We waited three hours, cruising through the darkness. Finally, Ivan announced we were approaching the dam. I couldn't see the lights of our base, but I recognized the black granite cliffs around us. It was just in time, too. The fuel gauge was at zero. Wang Sichuan helped me into my seat and strapped on my seatbelt. Everyone else did the same. I wasn't worried at all. I'd seen Ivan make our bomber do a backflip. Landing on an underground river runway shouldn't pose much of a problem. I shut my eyes and imagined the earth beneath my feet. Most of us were just simple country folk. We never felt comfortable unless we were on solid ground.
