The Three-Body Problem Part 2

Instead of answering, Director Zhang picked up the book. "Your letter was clearly inspired by this book." He showed the book to the company director and the political instructor. "Silent Spring was published in America in 1962 and has been quite influential in the capitalist world."

He then took another book out of the briefcase. The cover was white with black characters. "This is the Chinese translation. The appropriate authorities distributed it to select cadres as internal reference so that it could be criticized. As of now, the appropriate authorities have already given their clear judgment: The book is a toxic piece of reactionary propaganda. It takes the stance of pure historical idealism and espouses a doomsday theory. Under the guise of discussing environmental problems, it seeks to justify the ultimate corruption of the capitalist world. The content is extremely reactionary."

"But this book ... it doesn't belong to me."

"Comrade Bai was appointed as a translator by the appropriate authorities. So it was perfectly legitimate for him to carry it. Of course, he is responsible for being careless and allowing you to steal it while he was partic.i.p.ating in Construction Corps work a.s.signments. From this book, you obtained intellectual weapons that could be used to attack socialism."

Ye Wenjie held her tongue. She knew that she had already fallen to the bottom of the pit. Any struggle was useless.

Contrary to certain historical records that later became publicized, Bai Mulin did not intend to frame Ye Wenjie at the start. The letter he wrote to the central leaders.h.i.+p in Beijing was likely based on a real sense of responsibility. Back then, many people wrote to the central leaders.h.i.+p with all kinds of personal agendas. Most of these letters were never answered, but a few of the letter writers did see their political fortunes rise meteorically overnight, while others invited catastrophe. The political currents of the time were extremely complex. As a reporter, Bai believed he could read the currents and avoid dangerous sensitivities, but he was overconfident, and his letter touched a minefield that he did not know existed. After he heard about its reception, fear overwhelmed everything else. In order to protect himself, he decided to sacrifice Ye Wenjie.

Half a century later, historians would all agree that this event in 1969 was a turning point in humankind's history.

Without intending to, Bai became a key historical figure. But he never learned of this fact. Historians recorded the rest of his uneventful life with disappointment. He continued to work at Great Production News until 1975, when the Inner Mongolia Production and Construction Corps was disbanded. He was then sent to a city in Northeast China to work for the Science a.s.sociation until the beginning of the eighties. Then he left the country for Canada, where he taught at a Chinese school in Ottawa until 1991, when he died from lung cancer. For the rest of his life, he never mentioned Ye Wenjie, and we do not know if he ever felt remorse or repented for his actions.

"Wenjie, the company has treated you extremely well." The company commander exhaled a thick cloud of smoke from his Mohe tobacco. He stared at the ground and continued. "By birth and family background, you're politically suspect. But we've always treated you as one of our own. Both the political instructor and I have spoken to you many times concerning your tendency to sequester yourself from the people, and your lack of self-motivation in seeking progress. We want to help you. But look at you! You've committed such a serious error!"

The political instructor picked up the theme. "I've always said that I thought she had a deep-rooted resentment of the Cultural Revolution."

"Have her escorted to division headquarters this afternoon, along with the evidence of her crime," Director Zhang said, his face impa.s.sive.

The three other women prisoners in the cell were taken away one by one until only Ye was left. The small pile of coal in the corner had been exhausted, and no one came to replenish it. The fire in the stove had gone out a while ago. It was so cold in the cell that Ye had to wrap herself in the blanket.

Two officials came to her before it got dark. The older one, a female cadre, was introduced by her a.s.sociate as the military representative from the Intermediate People's Court.7 "My name is Cheng Lihua," the cadre introduced herself. She was in her forties, dressed in a military coat, and wore thick-rimmed gla.s.ses. Her face was gentle, and it was clear that she had been very beautiful when she was young. She spoke with a smile and instantly made people like her. Ye Wenjie understood that it was unusual for such a high-grade cadre to visit a prisoner about to be tried. Cautiously, she nodded at Cheng and moved to make s.p.a.ce on her narrow cot so she could sit down.

"It's really cold in here. What happened to your stove?" Cheng gave a reprimanding look to the head of the detention center standing at the door of the cell. She turned back to Ye. "Hmm, you're very young. Even younger than I imagined."

She sat down on the cot right next to Ye and rummaged in her briefcase, still muttering. "Wenjie, you're very confused. Young people are all the same. The more books you read, the more confused you become. Eh, what can I say...."

She found what she was looking for and took out a small bundle of papers. Looking at Ye, her eyes were filled with kindness and affection. "But it's not a big deal. What young person hasn't made some mistakes? I made mistakes myself. When I was a young woman, as a member of the art troupe for the Fourth Field Army, I specialized in singing Soviet songs. One time, during a political study session, I announced that China should cease to be a separate country and join the USSR as a member republic. That way, international communism would be further strengthened. How nave I was! But who wasn't once nave? What's done is done. When you make a mistake, what's important is to recognize it and correct it. Then you can continue the revolution."

Cheng's words seemed to draw Ye closer to her. But after having gone through so many troubles, Ye had learned to be cautious. She did not dare to believe in this kindness, which almost resembled a luxury.

Cheng placed the stack of papers on the bed in front of Ye and handed her a pen. "Come now, sign this. Then we can have a good heart-to-heart and resolve your ideological difficulties." Her tone was like that of a mother trying to encourage her daughter to eat.

Ye stared at the stack of papers silently and motionlessly. She did not pick up the pen.

Cheng gave her a forgiving smile. "You can trust me, Wenjie. I personally guarantee that this doc.u.ment has nothing to do with your case. Go ahead. Sign it."

Her a.s.sociate, who stood to the side, added, "Ye Wenjie, Representative Cheng is trying to help you. She's been working hard on your behalf."

Cheng waved at him to stop. "It's understandable. Poor child! You've been so frightened. There are some comrades whose political awareness is not adequately high. Some members of the Construction Corps and some of the folks from the people's court employ such simplistic methods and behave so rudely. It's completely inappropriate! All right, Wenjie, why don't you read the doc.u.ment? Read it carefully."

Ye picked up the doc.u.ment and flipped through it in the dim yellow light of the detention cell. Representative Cheng hadn't lied to her. The doc.u.ment really had nothing to do with her case.

It was about her father. In it was a record of her father's interactions and conversations with certain individuals. The source was Wenjie's younger sister, Wenxue. As one of the most radical Red Guards, Wenxue had always been proactive in exposing their father, and had composed numerous reports detailing his supposed sins. Some of the material she provided had ultimately led to his death.

But Ye could tell that this report didn't come from the hand of her sister. Wenxue had an intense, impatient style. When you read her reports, each line would make an explosive impact, like a string of firecrackers. But this doc.u.ment was composed in a cool, experienced, meticulous style. Who spoke to whom, when, where, what was discussed-every detail was recorded, down to the exact date. For someone who wasn't experienced, the contents seemed like a boring diary, but the calculating, cold purpose hidden within was very different from the childish antics of Wenxue.

Ye couldn't really understand what the doc.u.ment was getting at, but she could sense that it had something to do with an important national defense project. As the daughter of a physicist, Ye guessed that it was a reference to the double-bomb project8 that had shocked the world in 1964 and 1967.

During this period of the Cultural Revolution, in order to bring down a highly positioned individual, it was necessary to gather evidence of his deficiencies in the various areas he was in charge of. But for those plotting such political machinations, the double-bomb project posed great difficulties. People in the highest levels of the government placed the project under their protection to avoid disruption by the Cultural Revolution. It was difficult for those with nefarious purposes to pry into its inner workings.

Due to her father's family background, he couldn't meet the political requirements and did not work on the double-bomb project. All he had done was some peripheral theoretical work for it. But it was easier to make use of him than those who had worked at the core of the project. Ye Wenjie couldn't tell if the contents of the doc.u.ment were true or false, but she was sure that every character and every punctuation mark had the potential to deliver a fatal political blow. In addition to those targeted directly, countless others might have their fates altered because of this doc.u.ment.

At the end of the doc.u.ment was her sister's signature in large characters, and Ye Wenjie was supposed to sign as a witness. She noticed that three other witnesses had already signed.

"I don't know anything about these conversations," Ye said softly. She put the doc.u.ment back down.

"How can you not know? Many of these conversations occurred right in your home. Your sister knew them. You must, too."

"I really don't."

"But these conversations really did occur. You must have faith in us."

"I didn't say they weren't true. But I really don't know about them. So I can't sign."

"Ye Wenjie!" Cheng's a.s.sociate took a step closer. But Cheng stopped him again. She s.h.i.+fted to sit even closer to Ye and picked up one of her cold hands.

"Wenjie, let me put all my cards on the table. Your case has a lot of prosecutorial discretion. On the one hand, we could minimize it as a case of an educated youth being fooled by a reactionary book-it's not a big deal. We don't even need to go through a judicial procedure. We'll have you attend a political cla.s.s and write a few self-criticism reports, and then you can go back to the Construction Corps. On the other hand, we could also prosecute this case to its fullest extent. Wenjie, you must know that you could be declared an active counter-revolutionary.

"Now, faced with political cases like yours, all prosecutorial organs and courts would rather be too severe than too lax. This is because treating you too severely would just be a mistake in method, but treating you too laxly would be a mistake in political direction. Ultimately, however, the decision belongs to the military control commission. Of course, I'm telling you all this off the record."

Cheng's a.s.sociate added, "Representative Cheng is trying to save you. Three witnesses have already signed. Your refusal to sign is pretty much meaningless. I must urge you not to be confused, Ye Wenjie."

"Right, Wenjie," Cheng continued. "It would break my heart to see an educated young person like you ruined by something like this. I really want to save you. Please cooperate. Look at me. Do you think I would hurt you?"

But Ye did not look at Representative Cheng. What she saw, instead, was her father's blood. "Representative Cheng, I have no knowledge of the events recorded in this doc.u.ment. I cannot sign it."

Cheng Lihua became quiet. She stared at Ye for a long while, and the cold air in the cell seemed to solidify. Then she slowly put the doc.u.ment back into her briefcase and stood up. Her kind expression did not disappear, but was set on her face like a plaster mask. Still appearing kind and affectionate, she walked to the corner of the cell, where there was a bucket for was.h.i.+ng. She picked it up and poured half the water onto Ye and the other half onto her blanket, her movements never straying from a methodical calmness. Then she dropped the bucket and left the cell, pausing only to mutter, "You stubborn little b.i.t.c.h!"

The head of the detention center was the last to leave. He stared coldly at Ye, soaked through and dripping, shut the cell door with a bang, and locked it.

Through her wet clothes, the chill of the Inner Mongolian winter seized Ye like a giant's fist. She heard her teeth chatter, but eventually even that sound disappeared. The coldness penetrated into her bones, and the world in her eyes turned milky white. She felt that the entire universe was a huge block of ice, and she was the only spark of life within it. She was the little girl about to freeze to death, and she didn't even have a handful of matches, only illusions....

The block of ice holding her gradually became transparent. In front of her she could see a tall building. At the top, a young girl waved a bright red banner. Her slender figure contrasted vividly with the breadth of the flag: It was her sister, Wenxue. Ever since her little sister had made a clean break with her reactionary academic authority family, Wenjie had heard no news about her. She had only learned recently that Wenxue had died two years ago in one of the wars between Red Guard factions.

As Ye watched, the figure waving the flag became Bai Mulin, his gla.s.ses reflecting the flames raging below the building; then it turned into Representative Cheng; then her mother, Shao Lin; then her father. The flag-bearer kept on changing, but the flag waved ceaselessly, like a perpetual pendulum, counting down the remainder of her short life.

Gradually, the flag grew blurry; everything grew blurry. The ice that filled the universe once again sealed her at its center. Only this time, the ice was black.

3.

Red Coast I Ye Wenjie heard a loud, continuous roar. She didn't know how much time had pa.s.sed.

The noise came from all around her. In her vague state of consciousness, it seemed as though some gigantic machine was drilling into or sawing through the block of ice that held her. The world was still only darkness, but the noise grew more and more real. Finally, she was certain that the source of the noise was neither heaven nor h.e.l.l, and she remained in the land of the living.

She realized that her eyes were still closed. With an effort, she lifted her eyelids. The first thing she saw was a light embedded deeply in the ceiling. Covered by a wire mesh that seemed designed to protect it, it emitted a dim glow. The ceiling appeared to be made of metal.

She heard a male voice softly calling her name. "You have a high fever," the man said.

"Where am I?" Wenjie's voice was so weak that she couldn't be sure it was her own.

"On a helicopter."

Ye felt weak. She fell back to sleep. As she dozed, the roar kept her company. Before long, she woke again. Now the numbness had disappeared and the pain rea.s.serted itself: Her head and the joints of her limbs ached, and the breath coming out of her mouth felt scalding hot. Her throat hurt so much that swallowing spittle felt like it was a piece of burning coal.

She turned her head and saw two men wearing the same kind of military coat that Representative Cheng had worn. But unlike her, both of these men had on the cotton cap of the PLA, a red star sewn onto the front. Their coats were unb.u.t.toned, and she could see the red-collar insignia on their army uniforms. One of the men wore gla.s.ses.

Ye discovered that she was covered by a military coat as well. The clothes she was wearing were dry and warm.

She struggled to sit up, and to her surprise, succeeded. She looked out the porthole on the other side. Rolling clouds slowly drifted by, reflecting the dazzling sunlight. She pulled her gaze back. The narrow cabin was filled with iron trunks painted military green. From another porthole she could see flickering shadows cast by the rotors. She was indeed on a helicopter.

"You'd better lie back down," the man with the gla.s.ses said. He helped her down and covered her with the coat again.

"Ye Wenjie, did you write this paper?" The other man extended an open English journal before her eyes. The t.i.tle of the paper was "The Possible Existence of Phase Boundaries Within the Solar Radiation Zone and Their Reflective Characteristics." He showed her the cover of the journal: an issue of The Journal of Astrophysics from 1966.

"Of course she did. Why does that even need to be confirmed?" The man wearing gla.s.ses took the journal away and then made introductions. "This is Political Commissar Lei Zhicheng of Red Coast Base. I'm Yang Weining, base chief engineer. It will be an hour before we land. You might as well get some rest."

You're Yang Weining? Ye didn't say anything, but she was stunned. She saw that he kept his expression calm, apparently not wis.h.i.+ng to let anyone else know that they knew each other. Yang had been one of Ye Zhetai's graduate students. By the time he had obtained his degree, Wenjie was still a first-year in college.

She could clearly remember the first time Yang came to her home. He had just begun his graduate studies and needed to discuss the direction of his research with Professor Ye. Yang said that he wanted to focus on experimental and applied problems, staying away from theory.

Ye Wenjie recalled her father saying, "I'm not opposed to your idea. But we are, after all, the department of theoretical physics. Why do you want to avoid theory?"

Yang replied, "I want to devote myself to the times, to make some real-world contributions."

Her father said, "Theory is the foundation of application. Isn't discovering fundamental laws the biggest contribution to our time?"

Yang hesitated and finally revealed his real concern: "It's easy to make ideological mistakes in theory."

Her father had nothing to say to that.

Yang was very talented, with a good mathematical foundation and a quick mind. But during his brief time as a graduate student, he always kept a respectable distance from his thesis advisor. Ye Wenjie had seen Yang several times, but, perhaps due to the influence of her father, she hadn't noticed him much. As for whether he had paid much attention to her, she had no idea. After Yang got his degree, he soon ceased all contact with her father.

Again feeling weak, Ye closed her eyes. The two men left her and crouched behind a row of trunks to converse in lowered voices. But the cabin was so cramped that Ye could hear them even over the roar of the engine.

"I still think this isn't a good idea," Commissar Lei said.

"Can you find the personnel I need through normal channels?" Yang asked.

"Eh. I've done all I can. There's no one in the military with this specialization, and going outside the army raises many questions. You know very well that the security clearance needed for this project requires someone willing to join the army. But the bigger issue is the requirement in the security regulations that they be sequestered at the base for extended periods. What's to be done if they have families? Sequester them at the base too? No one would agree to that. I did find two possible candidates, but both would rather stay at the May Seventh Cadre Schools rather than come here.9 Of course we could forcefully move them. But given the nature of this work, we can't have someone who doesn't want to be here."

"Then there's no choice but to use her."

"But it's so unconventional."

"This entire project is unconventional. If something goes wrong, I'll accept the responsibility."

"Chief Yang, do you really think you can take responsibility for this? You are a technical person, but Red Coast is not like other national defense projects. Its complexity goes far beyond the technical issues."

"You're right, but I only know how to solve the technical issues."

By the time they landed, it was dusk.

Ye refused to be helped by Yang and Lei, and struggled out of the helicopter by herself. A strong gust of wind almost blew her over. The still-gyrating rotors sliced through the wind, making a loud whistling noise. The scent of the woods on the wind was familiar to her, and she was familiar to the wind. It was the wind of the Greater Khingan Mountains.

She soon heard another sound, a kind of low, forceful, ba.s.s howl that seemed to form the background of the world: the parabolic antenna dish in the wind. Only now, when she was so close to it, did she finally feel its immensity. Ye's life had made a big circle this month: She was now on top of Radar Peak.

She couldn't help but look in the direction of her Construction Corps company. But all she could see was a misty sea of trees in the twilight.

The helicopter was carrying more than just Ye. Several soldiers came over and began to unload military-green cargo trunks from the cabin. They walked by without glancing at her. As she followed Yang and Lei, Ye noticed that the top of Radar Peak was s.p.a.cious. A cl.u.s.ter of white buildings, like delicate toy blocks, nestled under the giant antenna. The trio headed toward the base gate, flanked by two guards, and stopped in front of it.

Lei turned to her and spoke solemnly. "Ye Wenjie, the evidence of your counter-revolutionary crime is incontrovertible, and the court would have punished you as you deserve. But now you have an opportunity to redeem yourself through hard work. You can accept it or refuse it." He pointed at the antenna. "This is a defense research facility. The research conducted here needs your specialized scientific knowledge. Chief Engineer Yang can give you the details, which you should consider carefully."

He nodded at Yang and then entered the gate after the soldiers carrying the trunks.

Yang waited until the others were gone and indicated that Ye should follow him a little distance away from the gate, clearly trying to avoid the sentries listening in.

He no longer pretended that he didn't know her. "Wenjie, let me be clear. This is not some great opportunity. I learned from the military control commission at the court that although Cheng Lihua advocates sentencing you severely, the most that you'll get is ten years. Considering mitigating circ.u.mstances, you'll serve maybe six or seven years. But here"-he nodded in the direction of the base-"is a research project under the highest security cla.s.sification. Given your status, if you enter the gate, it's possible-" He paused, as though wanting to let the ba.s.s howl of the antenna add to the weight of his words. "-you'll never leave for the rest of your life."

"I want to go in."

Yang was surprised by her quick answer. "Don't be hasty. Get back onto the helicopter. It will take off in three hours, and if you refuse our offer, it will take you back."

"I don't want to go back. Let's go in." Ye's voice remained soft, but there was a determination in her tone that was harder than steel. Other than the undiscovered country beyond death from which no one has ever returned, the place she wanted to be the most was this peak, separated from the rest of the world. Here, she felt a sense of security that had long eluded her.

"You should be cautious. Think through what this decision means."

"I can stay here for the rest of my life."

Yang lowered his head and said nothing. He stared into the distance, as though forcing Ye to sort through her thoughts. Ye stayed silent as well. She pulled her coat tightly around herself and gazed into the distance. There, the Greater Khingan Mountains were fading into the darkening night. It was impossible to stay out here much longer in the cold.