Red Dust Part 12

"What was that stuff?."

"It'll free up your mind," Lao San said, and leered into Lee's face in such a way that he seemed deranged. Then he stalked off to harangue one of the black-clad young men. He 188.

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kicked the projector the young man was tending and out above the heads of the crowd a slogan written in rippling red light unfolded in the air.

Xiao Bing said with undisguised admiration, "He's a pretty intense fellow."

"What was that, memory enhancer? I don't need to free my mind." Lee was wondering if the drug would affect the viruses that swarmed in his bloodstream, but all he could feel was a p.r.i.c.kling in his palms that might be nothing more than adrenalin.

"Oh no! Even I don't do that, now that I've put off dying into my little piece of Heaven. We have many different kinds of drugs to help us. That one is supposed to increase your intelligence by allowing synapses to fire faster."

Xiao Bing explained that Lao San was leader of this cell of the People's Scientific Liberation Movement. They believed that the establishment of a technocracy would save Mars, for only a technocracy could complete the terraforming program. Their ideology was that of social Darwinism, in which individuals were free units subject not to the constraints of society, which in any case was a fiction maintained only by collective delusion, but to the forces of the market place. Government would be dismantled. Individuals and danweis and privately owned industries would compete to serve the population, and each person would pay only for services they required. Compet.i.tion would favor those most fit to survive, those who were technologically literate.

"Just think of it, Lee, a truly scientific society!" "It seems, well, incredible."

"Just so," Xiao Bing said, grinning.

Lee understood that Xiao Bing had lost Guoquiang but had found someone else to follow. And with a floating careless rapture he also understood that the drug had allowed him this insight. He said, "It sounds fine, although I do not quite understand how these competing danweis could band together to complete the terraforming of Mars. Who will pay for it?"

"Oh, there would be an air tax," Xiao Bing said, "or a RED DUST.

189.water tax. Or perhaps both. Details are not important at this stage."

"You would have people pay simply to live?"

"Life is not a right, but a privilege. Read our Big Character posters, and you will understand. Not here and now, of course. We'll soon be done here anyhow; there's a seventy per cent chance that the soldiers will clear the square in the next hour. We will be gone by then."

"You don't support the people?"

"Lao San says there's no such thing as the people. Only a stochastic ma.s.s of individuals."

Lee smiled. "Perhaps so. But at the moment it seems they all want the same thing."

Lao San turned from the little machine he'd been fiddling with and jabbed a finger into Lee's chest. "Listen! The Emperor is nothing more than an outmoded attempt at centralizing control. No such control is needed, of course, but it cannot be removed by banging on its gates. You want to know why we're here? It should be obvious this is a wonderful propaganda exercise. Look at our slogans, our Big Character posters!"

It was true, there were a dozen or more columns of ideograms floating in the morning air. But most of the people in the crowd were looking towards the soldiers, not the sky.

Lee said, "Oh, I understand that. I do want the same thing as you. I want Mars to live again!" And he did, so strongly that he started to cry, for he clearly saw the high cold deserts spreading, the forests withering, the lake shrinking in its salt basin.

"Sure you do," Lao San said.

Lee, embarra.s.sed, started to apologize. Lao San said, "It is hard to force the evolution of your mind. But it is necessary.

You help Xiao Bing try and get a projector on that officer. Let's make him interesting."

Xiao Bing was fitting a little machine with a dozen gla.s.s-ringed snouts to a kind of harness. Lee sniffed and said, "You're going to degauss the officer?"

"Oh no. Just superimpose an image on him. A little ani 190 PAUL J. McAULE mated program that will turn him into a demon. I wrote it myself." Xiao Bing attached the little machine's harness to a limp mylar balloon. "Hand me that gas cylinder."As Xiao Bing inflated the balloon with helium, the officer'svoice boomed out again, and Lao San shouted that they would have to hurry. From the elevation of the steps, Lee could see across the heads of the crowd to the phalanx of the troops on the far side of the square. The soldiers were beating their shock sticks against their transparent s.h.i.+elds in an ominous rhythm. Slowly, their line advanced towards the edge of the crowd, like the ruffling edge of an amoeba.

Lee saw little knots of struggle break out as s.n.a.t.c.h squads of soldiers ran forward and grabbed hapless individuals and dragged them away. The crowd, which had seemed like some supra-organism united by a collective will, was fragmenting.

Ragged singing was lost in screams as the first gas bombs went off. Blossoms of orange smoke began to spread at the boundary between the troops and the crowd. Soldiers aimed wide-bore rifles, and people at the edge of the crowd were knocked down by glycerine rounds. Tanglewire suddenly expanded in a mad dance, trapping dozens along its jittery perimeter. Somewhere, there was the fluttering beat of hovering culvers.Then Lee was busy holding down the transparent balloon,now as big around as the spread of his arms, while Xiao Bing checked the projector hanging beneath it. "Let it go!"

Bing shouted, and Lee stood back as the balloon floated free.

Spurts of gas from little nozzles in the harness steered the contraption out into the morning sunlight as its navigation circuit fixed on the distant figure of the officer, who floated high above the spreading clouds of gas and the running bat-tie that was advancing inexorably towards the Front Gate.Xiao Bing watched the balloon go with a blissful smile.

"You see the power of technology, Wei Lee.""I wish it could be used to help the people understand."

Xiao Bing smiled. "Ideas, Wei Lee. That's the thing. We explain to the population what they need until they embrace the ideas as their own."

RED DUST.

191."It seems to me everyone wants to tell the people what to do, but no one asks them what they want."

Lao San was suddenly in Lee's face again. "They won't know they need it," he said, "until it is explained to them."

He spun Lee around. "Look at your brave ma.s.ses, running for their lives!"

It was true. The troops had occupied about half the square. Their line had broken into dozens of units that roamed back and forth under a pall of orange smoke while thousands of people tried to escape down the avenue on the far side. Dust clouds hung above the seething press, reddening the morning sunlight. With a roar of wings, a culver rose over the flat roof of the Ministry of Information and swept towards the panicking people like a sparrowhawk harrying ice mice from long gra.s.s.

Lao San laughed at Lee's dismay. "You stay with us, and you'll understand. You're a bright fellow, even if you're wet behind the ears." He turned and shouted at the others to start packing up; it was time to go, and the other members of the PSLM started to jam their bits and pieces of equipment into canvas bags.

Lee saw threads of light stab down from the culver, raking the crowd. People caught aflame like ants under a lens. He and Xiao Bing shrank back when a laser pulse touched the lower steps and heat-stressed stone flew in every direction.

A woman ran through the crowd, her hair on fire. A second culver lazily settled over the Front Gate, the wind from its wings sending posters flying like autumn leaves. Orange gas squirted from the culver's belly, was dashed across the square by its down draft.

People ran from the wave front of gas. Some tried to climb the steps, but Lao San's young men fought them back with bare hands or by swinging canvas bags weighted with their equipment. Lao San wielded a telescopic pole; he punched an old woman in her chest and she fell down, tripping the people behind her.

Lee caught a whiff of gas that burned all the way down his lungs. His eyes spilled burning tears. The drug had 192.

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ripped his perceptions open. He was a screen, a nervous surface. He grabbed Xiao Bing. "Can your machines project a picture of a real person?"

"Sure. We have cameras as well as a recorder."

Lee saw his reflection doubled in the silver caps over Xiao Bing's pupils. He saw that his own eyes seemed to be nothing but pupil. He said, "Xiao Bing, you've always been a good friend. Please set it up for me. For Guoquiang."

"You won't have more than a minute," Xiao Bing said, and told Lee to step back. Overlapping cones of light sprang around him, projected from little cameras fixed by adhesive pads to the marble walls on either side of the stainless-steel door. Lee slicked back his hair as Xiao Bing stuck a foam microphone dot to his throat. "Stay in the light," Xiao Bing said.

And then Lee saw his projected image hung hugely above the square. It was as tall as a building. Lee spread his arms, and his image's left hand pa.s.sed through the culver that hovered over the Front Gate. The drug fizzed in his forebrain.

He felt that he could reach into the heads of everyone in the square, even the soldiers. His own voice echoed back at him: the words came without thought.

"The King of the Cats told you the Emperor is dead! Believe in the King! I have walked with him in Father Jupiter.

He has a message that is so strong it took a whole civilization to forget it, yet it takes only a moment to remember it.

Remember that he forgave those who exiled him, and those who betrayed him. Remember that he died for our sins!"

Lee paused for breath, and the crowd shouted and waved their hands at his projected figure. "The King lives! The King has returned!"

One of the culvers sprayed Lee's image with laser fire, and Lee gave them his imitation of the King's smile. He swivelled on his c.o.c.ked hip and flicked his fingers at the floating officer, who shot higher into the air in alarm. The crowd laughed and cheered. Lee's voice was almost lost in their noise. "The rains will come! All you have to do is open the sky, and the rains will come! Take the Sky Road!"

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And then he could no longer hear his voice as the crowd surged forward. He saw that Lao San was staring at him beyond the cones of camera light, hands clenched up around his ears. Lee smiled and waved at Xiao Bing (his projected figure out across the square seemed to gesture towards the line of troops) and the light around him went off; out above the surging crowds, so did his projected figure.Lao San's voice was choked with anger and fear. "Who-- who are you?"Xiao Bing laughed. "He's the King of the Cats' number one fan!"One of Lao San's underlings said, "We did a patch and got it on to Channel Five, boss. The whole city'll have seen it."Lao San said furiously, "Who told you to do that? They'll hang a trace?The man, a horse-faced young Yankee, snorted with laughter. "So it's time we left. Great propaganda, though."Someone else said, "The government channel just went off the air, but all the commercial channels are going crazy!"Lao San spat. "The King of the Cats is dead, and I don't believe in ghosts."Lee grinned happily. "If you want to move the people, you've got to give them what they want.""What you've given them is a riot," Lao San sneered.It was true. The crowd was surging forward, swirling around knots of soldiers like the sea around rocks. Culvers swooped low overhead, but they couldn't fire without hitting their own troops. Trucks with armored prows welded over airbags swept into the square from the avenue--but they were driven by civilians, and civilians crowded their load-beds.

They ploughed through the lines of troops and people jumped down from the loadbeds and ran into the crowd, ran into outstretched arms. Everyone seemed to be embracing everyone else."That's it," said the man who had been monitoring the government channel. "The Gang of Six have been arrested.

There's a woman with a machine pistol in the studio advis- 194.

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ing everyone that the city is under martial rule, by the order of The Little Bird." He pointed at Lee. "And there's a price on your head, fellow."A little girl pushed out of the dispersing crowd and ran up the steps, dodging the PSLM man who tried to catch her.

It was Chen Yao.She grabbed Lee's hand. "You've caUSed big trouble," she shouted. "Come on, now!"

Forty-one.T.he avenues around the Square of Heavenly Peace were full of people hurrying away from it. Little electric trucks cruised amongst them, flying red and black flags and packed with armed men. They were the vigilante cadres of Xiao Yan, The Little Bird, the Ten Thousand Years who had seized the moment and captured the media networks.

A column of dense black smoke rose into the pink sky, close by the dome over the Yankee Quarter."You follow me now," Chen Yao kept saying to Lee. She held on to his hand. "All this craziness is your fault, Wei Lee."Lee was dazed by the comedown of Lao SaWs drug. His head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool, and there was a trembling, not unpleasant la.s.situde in his limbs. He hardly noticed when the gunfire started.One moment he was being tugged through the dispersing crowds by Chen Yao, the next he was wedged into a corner of the doorway of an apartment building with people screaming and shoving and shuddering all around him. Trucks swerved around each other in the street, and there was the orange stutter of muzzle flashes. Then someone made the doors open and Lee and Chen Yao were swept into the lobby with a hundred others.n.o.body had been directly hit, but many had been wounded by shrapnel and flying gla.s.s. Those who lived in the building brought sheets for bandages, and then blankets 195.

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PAUL J. MCAULEY.and bowls of soup or tea. The doors were closed and barricaded and guarded by volunteers.The old man found Chen Yao and Wei Lee tending a stoic woman whose hand had been struck by a tumbling ricochet.

He waited while Lee washed away the blood and bound a crude splint to the woman's broken fingers, and then put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I know you, Master. It would be an honor to my family if you took tea.""At another time I would be honored by your hospitality."The old man said, "One more pair of hands makes no difference now."It was true. For every person wounded there were two others to bandage wounds or mop up blood or fetch tea.

People had brought out televisions. The tall lobby was filled with the chatter of conversation. All this by consensus, without leaders, without orders."I know you, Master," the old man said again. "My family has known you for a long time. I'd like to talk with you about it."Chen Yao said, "It is kind of you, but we must go."

"The streets are dangerous. The Little Bird makes war with the soldiers who were in the Square of Heavenly Peace.""An hour's delay won't hurt," Lee said. He was curious.

The old man, Kong Tiangang, lived in a three-room railroad apartment with his wife and their two sons and their wives and children--a baby, and twin brothers not much older than Chen Yao--and their only daughter. This young woman suffered from progressive atrophy of her central nervous system, one of the genetic disorders common in a population whose ancestors had been packed like sardines in uns.h.i.+elded rockets. Stick-thin, she lay twitching and jerking on a pallet in the main room of the two-room apartment, staring up at the dingy ceiling, occasionally s...o...b..ring a kind of gasping speech only her mother could understand.The Kong family were poor, honest people who had committed the crime of having too many children. After the Great Rea.s.sessment, the Sky Roader trials and the alliance RED DUST.

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with the Earth, punitive sanctions had been introduced to reverse population growth; chief among them was that children were taxed on an asymptotic sliding scale.

"We have dwindled," Kong Tiangang said. "Master Kong, the Sage of Antiquity, whose name was known throughout Old Earth, was our ancestor, but that was three thousand years ago. I am of the one hundred and ninth generation.

Many more stayed on Earth, but they will not be alive now.

Once we were the first family under heaven. We ruled a province, and lived in a mansion that was the largest, most sumptuous mansion in the whole of the Middle Kingdom.

That is no more, except for a few treasures, and the library.

And that, which once filled a thousand thousand books in the Great Pavilion of the Constellation of Literature, is now stored in a data chip no bigger than my thumb. Master, will you take more tea?"

Lee and Chen Yao thanked him. It was bitter green tea, served in porcelain cups as thin and translucent as paper.

Apart from the palsied daughter, the whole Kong family sat behind them, and neighbors crowded in the doorway and on the landing and the stairs, whispering comments and speculation. Chen Yao seemed to take no notice, but it took all of Lee's will not to turn around.

Kong Tiangang smiled and said, "No doubt you have been wondering how I knew of you, young Master."

"I had supposed that you saw me on television. But it is more than that, isn't it?"

"We brought with us one treasure in particular. It was made for our family in the Tang Dynasty by two famous fortune tellers, Yuan Tiangang, for whom I am named, and Li Chunfeng. Here, my son has it."

It was a thick bundle of ancient fibrous paper sheets, st.i.tched together. When it was unfolded it took up half the floor s.p.a.ce of the small room. It was covered with thousands of symbols. The Sun, and Earth's Moon in all its phases, stars and mountains, trees and plants, birds and beasts and all manner of household articles, all jumbled together.

"We call it the back-to-back diagram," Kong Tiangang 198.

PAUl. J. McAut,:said. "The symbols represent the fate of each generation."Chen Yao said, "It seems to me that Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng were indeed very clever prognosticators, for there are so many different symbols that each generation cannot fail to find something that reflects the meaning of their lives."Kong Tiangang said, "That may be true, young miss. If it is, then what I show your master will do him no harm, andat least you will have enjoyed my family's hospitality."

"Please," Lee said. "I'd like to see what it is.""We found a symbol which we believe represented the one hundred and tenth generation, here, a monkey in an aspen tree. Our dear, unfortunate daughter was born in the year of the monkey, and you have seen how her limbs stir and quake, like the branches of an aspen in a wind. Yet you see that the monkey in the branches of the aspen holds the crescent of a b.l.o.o.d.y moon in its paw, and that the aspen stands on the side of a mountain whose base is patrolled by a tiger. I think that you are the monkey, Master, come to cure our daughter, and to save the red planet.""Please," Kong Tiangang's wife said. "We paid to have machines put in her blood that would build circuits in her nervous system. But that did not cure her.""She no longer has fits," Kong Tiangang said. "But still she trembles, as I have said, like the branches of an aspen tree. Please, Master."Chen Yao said, "This isn't what your gifts are for, Wei Lee!"Lee said, "You understand, Master Kong, that I promise nothing."Kong Tiangang bowed.Lee knelt beside the palsied young woman, laid a hand on her brow. She juddered, tried to focus cross-eyed on his face.

Her tongue labored in her mouth like the tongue of an animal.

Lee's mouth suddenly flooded with saliva and he bent and kissed her deeply, then sat back, strangely moved. There was a long silence in the crowded room. Then the young woman's eyes uncrossed. She stared into Lee's eyes and sighed and fell RED DUST.

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asleep, her twitching limbs relaxing, her clawed hands uncurling.

Her mother gave a cry as high and piercing as a bird, and Lee stood up as the woman rushed to her daughter's side.

In a moment, the room was full of people exclaiming over this miracle. The palsied young woman slept peacefully in their midst.

Chen Yao took Lee's hand and pulled him against the flow of people, out of the apartment and down the stairs. People patted his face, sought his free hand. An old woman presented Lee with a cloth-wrapped parcel of rice cakes and dried fruit. Lee took it, and the woman bowed to him, but it was Chen Yao who thanked her, and pushed Lee down the stairs, ordered the self-appointed guards to open the barricaded doors in the lobby. Two men volunteered to go with them, and when Chen Yao refused their help the oldest told them to keep away from the main streets, where The Little Bird's vigilantes made their patrols.

Outside, Chen Yao led Wei Lee as fast as she could walk down a tangle of residential streets. "You must be careful,"

she said. "Viruses are everywhere here, because of the fin.

It was Cho Jinfeng herself who gave a translator strain to the fisherfolk. The viruses have changed since, and so we avatars came into being. But none of us can do what you did. News will spread quickly."

"I felt pity for her." Lee was munching on the sticky sweet rice cakes. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, and now it was past noon.

"That's bad. Pity weakens. It is too much like contempt."

Chen Yao was suddenly angry, and let go of his hand. "In future, keep your pity to yourself, Wei Lee."

"Do you believe what the old man said?"