by Xu, Lei
Suddenly Ivan's voice sounded over the microphone. "Something's not right."
"What is it?" I asked.
"According to the navigation system, we're already very close to base, but I still can't see the searchlights that are supposed to guide me in."
I undid my seatbelt and stumbled into the cockpit. We were flying into total darkness. "How far away are we?" I asked.
"Less than two miles at most. We should be able to see the lights from here."
"Are you positive you're flying in the right direction? It would be awfully tragic to fly all this way just to end up in the wrong place."
"There wasn't much to lead us astray, and there's no way the guided navigation could be mistaken."
Just then the shape of the dam appeared before us, the cement pale in the plane's searchlights. All the dam's lights were extinguished. A silent, dark expanse was all that greeted us. I could barely believe my eyes. No way could all the lights have malfunctioned. At takeoff our camp had been lit up like some war-ready battalion. Now it appeared utterly abandoned. It was almost as if our superiors had simply packed up and left.
"Lights or no lights, we still have to land," said Ivan. He patted me on the back and motioned for me to return to my seat.
As soon as I sat back down the plane began to descend. Wang Sichuan and Old Tian both asked me what was going on, but I had no desire to explain.
Ivan's voice sounded in our ears. "Everyone remain seated, we're about to land. Unfortunately, it seems no one will be there to greet us."
I looked out the window. The rock walls surrounding the mouth of the river drew closer and closer. I held my breath. A moment later the dam flashed past. We made it, I said to myself.
Suddenly Ivan gave a startled cry. "Fuck! Where the hell is the runway?"
"What do you mean?"
He didn't reply, only shouted, "Hold on!"
With a ferocious crash we struck the river, our angle so steep the plane was practically nose-down. At once the entire cabin twisted upwards from the impact. I nearly snapped my restraints and flew into the air. My head smashed into the wall beside me and my vision went black and I lost consciousness.
Luckily, I quickly came to, vomiting from the pain in my skull. It felt like I'd been out for a long time, but the whole plane was still shaking from the crash. The cabin was silent. It seemed everyone else was still unconscious. Sparks splashed around the dark plane. All the lights had gone out. It took several minutes for me to undo my seatbelt and stagger to my feet. Wang Sichuan and Old Tian had fallen to the floor, their faces covered with blood. I shook them, but they didn't respond. I climbed out of the plane, turned and looked back. Despite the icy chill of the river water, I was momentarily transfixed by the sight of the wreckage. The plane had split in half, the front end now facing heavenward. Blood ran down my leg, but I ignored it. I felt my body begin to go numb.
Forcing myself to stay conscious, I dragged one man after another out of the submerged cabin. Miraculously, the plane had not exploded. It had to have been the river and buffer bags that saved us. With the men laid out like corpses on a nearby iron walkway, I paused, exhausted, and tried to catch my breath. Some dark liquid covered my hands. At first glance I thought it was blood, but it was only rusty water.
And then I heard a crash from the cockpit. Someone was trying to shatter the windshield. Gritting my teeth, I rose to my feet and walked toward the front of the plane. I smashed out the rest of the glass and helped the copilot climb out. His face was covered in tiny cuts and his mouth was filled with blood. His left ear hung down beside his neck, attached only by a thin piece of skin.
I helped him over to the walkway. "Ivan," he said to me. "You need to go help Ivan."
I quickly climbed back onto the plane and jumped into the cockpit. Ivan was still sitting in the pilot's seat. He'd taken off his oxygen mask. Blood covered his face and ran from his mouth, so thick it seemed he would choke. I climbed closer, wanting to help him up, but he waved me away. His chest was red and heaving.
He spoke haltingly. "The cabin took the brunt of the impact. I tried to pull up just before we hit, but it was no use. Damn Japanese technology. You can't trust it."
I couldn't keep from laughing. "Trying to find an excuse for the crash?"
"No one shot us down and I made no mistakes in the landing. The real problem was the runway disappeared. You Chinese can't be trusted either. Just because you say something'll be there doesn't mean it will."
I looked out at the water surrounding the plane. The dam was empty and silent. All the cranes and equipment were gone. The place appeared deserted. "All right," I said, "no need to waste your breath. In a moment I'll go see what the hell's going on here. Can you climb out yourself or do you need my help?"
Ivan ignored my question. "If you ever find out who took apart the runway, do me a favor and beat the crap out of them. Now go. I need to be alone for a while." Seeing how pale his face was, I felt uneasy just leaving him, but he continued to wave me away. "It's all right. Go handle your business while the Soviet sits by himself. He has things to think about."
Although I knew what this meant, I just nodded and climbed back through the window. As I jumped from the plane, he called out a final sentence, but I couldn't make it out.
Half an hour later, Wang Sichuan went to check on Ivan, but he was already off to that big airfield in the sky. He died surrounded by the dials and instruments he loved most, in the cockpit, his most familiar place in the world. His chest wound had been fatal. One of his ribs had broken and pierced his heart. "Crazy" Ivan Ivanovitch, 37, was killed in a black abyss unknown to man. He'd come here for no reason other than love, and had pursued it to the very end. Not once had he lost his trademark cool. Even in the moments before death, the Soviet had accepted his fate. If I succeed, then I will hold her again. If I fail, then she will never forget me. This was his code, his promise to himself and to Yuan Xile. He never broke it. Who could ever forget a man able to backflip a bomber in the moment of truth?
Yuan Xile wasn't alone. I would never forget Ivan, either. We left him in his cabin and did not mourn. I don't believe men like Ivan wish for such sympathy.
His life was also not the only one lost. Zhu Qiang and the copilot both died soon after. Zhu Qiang was probably dead when I pulled him from the wreckage. While his body bore no obvious wounds, his internal injuries must have been severe. The copilot also had internal injuries. He was initially full of energy, but by the time I'd finished resuscitating Old Tian, his body had turned ice-cold.
For a long time after that we just sat there, waiting to be rescued, but no one came. Once Wang Sichuan had regained some of his strength, he went off to scout the area. When he returned his face was pale. "All the equipment, all our stuff—it's gone. There's nothing left."
I greatly admired Wang Sichuan's calm under pressure. I'd just about reached my limit and felt neither the strength nor the inclination to move, but Wang Sichuan kept pushing at me. I finally climbed to my feet and followed him.
The changes were far greater than I'd imagined. If the issue had just been that no one was left at camp, I could have conjured up all sorts of reasons for their departure. Maybe these conjectures would've been wrong, but at least they might provide us some consolation. Instead, not a single piece of equipment or machinery remained.
All evidence that we'd ever been there had vanished, even down to the welding marks we'd made on the rock walls and preexisting buildings. It was as if we'd never been there at all.
CHAPTER
47
Nightmare
Everything was covered in a thick layer of rust. The place was more than just abandoned; it was wiped clean. This was impossible. The army would never have been able to eliminate all signs of their presence, especially not over an area this large.
"Well, what do you think?" asked Wang Sichuan, lighting a cigarette. "What the hell happened here?"
There seemed to be only one realistic explanation, but I f
ound it difficult to believe. "It looks to me like we've landed in the wrong place. The Japanese must have built more than one dam on the abyss."
"Are you being serious?"
"Can you think of any other explanation?"
"Follow me." Wang Sichuan tossed away his cigarette and strode over to a nearby cement tower.
"What are you doing?"
"After that incident with the curtain, they locked me in here for three days as punishment. To kill time I carved a few things into the wall in an out of the way spot. No way could they have found it."
We rushed up the tower into the cell. The space was tiny. Kneeling down, Wang Sichuan removed a brick from the wall.
His face went pale. "Nothing! There's nothing here! Then this place really isn't... But this room, it's exactly the same as the one they locked me in!"
Japanese slogans and spots of mold covered the bricks. A barred window was on the wall opposite. Through it I could see the river below and the wreckage of our plane. Only by the light of the still burning flames could I make out the whole scene. I gasped.
From up here, the flaming carcass of the Shinzan looked extremely familiar. I looked closer. At once I realized what I was seeing. The appearance and position of the plane were more than just familiar.
They were identical to the Shinzan that had crashed here over 20 years ago.
I couldn't believe my eyes. This must be a mistake, I told myself. I must be dreaming. After calming down, I gave the plane another look. It really was the same, all of it—the height of the wing rising above the water, the angle of the nose, the charred metal of the fuselage. Even the location of the crash. It was like looking into the past. What was going on?
Leaving the tower at once, I hurried back down to the plane. I hoped it was all just an illusion, but up close the feeling grew even stronger. The only thing different were the strips of plaster covering up the Japanese characters and flag. Sections of the stuff had already burned away, revealing a round sun underneath, like a great red eye staring out at me. Another piece had only melted halfway off. I couldn't read the symbol underneath. I walked closer. It was a seven. I froze. My eyes locked on the number. It felt like someone's hands were wrapped around my throat. The breath wouldn't come.
"What's wrong?" asked Wang Sichuan.
"Is this the plane we were just on?" I knew how irrational this sounded.
"Are you crazy? Of course it is."
"Then what about the wrecked bomber that was here before, the Japanese Shinzan?"
"That rusted hunk of metal? It must still be somewhere nearby. No way could they have moved a whole plane out of here."
"You sure about that?" I muttered.
Wang Sichuan walked off to look for it. It didn't take long for him to return. All the color had drained from his face.
"Strange," he said. "Where the hell could it have gone? I looked and looked, but couldn't find it anywhere. You don't think they took it with them, do you? Or could we have flattened it in the crash?"
Shaking my head, I pointed at the flaming wreckage before us. "No," I said. "It's right here."
***
I couldn't even begin to understand how it had happened, but I was certain the wrecked Shinzan we'd found and the bomber we'd just crashed were the very same plane. How could we have found the remains of our plane before we had even taken flight? The problem, I felt, had to be with us. We must have inhaled too much mercury and consequently gone mad. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I considered what this meant. If we really were crazy, there was no telling what we'd see next.
I told Wang Sichuan what I was thinking. He didn't seem particularly concerned.
"If that's true, then there's nothing to worry about," he said. "By now I bet we've already been saved and are lying in one of the medical tents. Ivan's probably still alive."
"Perhaps we haven't even landed yet," I said coldly. "Perhaps Pei Qing hasn't even jumped."
"We probably just need some sleep," said Old Tian. "When we wake up everything should be back to normal."
"If it's really all in our heads, then we've got a lot more to think about," I said. "There's no way to know when we first began to lose it. Perhaps we were already crazy when we ran into Yuan Xile. Perhaps it started the moment we arrived. And everyone else here might be crazy, too. Sleeping isn't going to help a thing.
"Think about it," I added. "How can you be sure you weren't crazy all along? Hell, you might just be some old lunatic strapped to a bed somewhere, with this cave and all of us no more than a product of your diseased mind. We need to be careful where we take this. If we start believing everything we're seeing is just a hallucination, that's where the real madness begins."
"So then how would you explain it?" asked Wang Sichuan.
"If something seems unexplainable, then we shouldn't try to force it. That's what my father always told me. When things don't make sense, don't worry about them. Just do what needs to be done. I say we calm down and think. Given the situation, what should our next move be?"
We all looked upriver.
"I want to see the sky," said Wang Sichuan. "How long has it been since we've seen it? I refuse to die in this goddamn place."
"Then let's go," I said. "They're probably waiting for us at the entrance to the cave, ready to pull us to safety like last time."
"And then will they give us an explanation?"
Unlikely, I thought, though I said nothing more.
The three of us scavenged the plane. There was little food to be found. Not much had been onboard to begin with and we'd tossed some to save fuel. We then set off, each of us carrying only a light pack. We followed the iron platforms back up the river. The water was so low it did not rise above our knees.
"This isn't the way we came," said Wang Sichuan. "I was swept down here by River One. It would be best to take the high route back."
"If we take that route, we'll have to climb that three-hundred-foot cliff at the cave mouth. We should just follow River Zero the whole way," I told him. "Some of the others told me it's a much easier walk. In the end you just step through a little hole in the rock and you're outside."
We followed River Zero up and up. Two days later, feeling cold and hungry, I saw a strange light up ahead. At first I didn't know what it was, but then Wang Sichuan roared with joy and I understood.
It was the sun.
By then I was already running, fighting waves of dizziness as the blinding light hit my eyes.
CHAPTER
48
The Human World
The exit was an inconspicuous slit in the rock. A net covered in green vines had been placed over the hole, but the webbing was already rotted and torn. The sun shone through from outside, so beautiful I could barely breathe. One after another we climbed out.
In an instant, my eyes were greeted by all the colors of the world, a vast expanse of forest and mountains. After living in a sunless world for many months where the only colors were black darkness, gray cement, and pale white electric light, I cannot describe how dazzling, how full, were the colors of nature. The golden sunlight, the endless blue sky, the deep-green forest. I nearly fainted on the spot.
Wang Sichuan bellowed at the top of his lungs then, prostrated himself before the heavens. Old Tian and I fell down beside him, letting the sun's rays cook our skin, cook away the gloom and damp of all the time we'd spent underground. Never before had I realized how pleasurable it was to roast in the sun.
After we'd rested a spell my eyes grew accustomed to the light of the world. The forest and sky I'd once found so dull were now an endless delight. Climbing to my feet, I took a look around. We were halfway up the sunny side of a mountain, overlooking a green valley. River Zero was the largest of the underground rivers, the trunk of the system, but by the time we reached the cave mouth it was merely a small stream. This I never would have guessed. I couldn't be sure of our distance from the original entrance, but based on how long we'd walked, I doubted it was far. The surfa
ce headquarters should also be nearby.
Wang Sichuan was first to speak. Pointing to a nearby cliff face, he called for us to follow him. A small waterfall was running down the rock. Just below it a gentle slope led into the valley. After washing our faces, we descended the mountain.
After walking for half an hour we found a suitable lookout point. Exhausted, Old Tian collapsed on the ground while I climbed to the edge and took in the view. The mountain we were on was not especially tall, but I was still able to see a long way. There were no camps in the distance and no sign of smoke, only trees, stretching endlessly to the horizon. The trees before me were massive, unusually so, their ranks stern and impregnable. The strength I'd felt only moments before began to fade. If we were planning to make our way back out on foot, I doubted the journey would be any less difficult or dangerous than our time in the cave.
