Zero and Other Fictions Read online

Xi De listened quietly as a series of disturbing images appeared one after another on the screen: cheering crowds, military parades, war, famine, hospitals, the megalomania on the faces of politicians, impassioned speeches, piles of corpses, atomic bomb blasts, and other frightening, cruel, and absurd scenes. What kind of a world was it? He wondered how it compared with the world today. Without a doubt it was a barbaric and dark age.

  “The world in those days had a population of four billion people living under a cloud of destruction, living under a terrible threat.…”

  The film continued to roll—one dismembered body followed by many.

  “Various forms of drugs provided brief escape from the world. They included opium, morphine, marijuana, and LSD. In addition, there were hundreds of religious organizations that served as an opiate. Let us pause here. This is Guyana, where a nuclear reaction test lab was located. At the time, there was a religious organization called the People’s Church. One night, the five hundred fanatical members of the group committed suicide because they actually thought they would go to Heaven.”

  That was history; the tragic and insane history of humanity. Xi De replayed the earlier visual feed. He couldn’t bear to keep watching. He discovered that everyone else was the same.

  The professor remained silent for a while, then shook his head and turned off the screen.

  “But that wasn’t the problem,” said the professor, his low voice calling everyone’s attention back to him.

  “The problem was that there was no power, system, or theory that could solve the predicament. At the time, a famous sociologist provided a clear description of the situation in these terms: ‘what we see before us is a comprehensive industrial crisis that transcends the conflict between capitalism and Soviet Communism. It is a crisis that has undermined the foundation of our resources, system of values, perception of time and space, and identity, as well as the economy.’ What you see before you is the complete collapse of industrial civilization.”

  As he listened to the professor’s voice, an ever clearer picture took shape in Xi De’s mind. He realized to his astonishment that it was the very image of Max Kristen. Right! It was him, Max Kristen. Huge photos of him were hung in the most conspicuous locations in all public places, offices, and factories. His shining eyes shone with the light of profound wisdom; his face, with its sharp features, conveyed confidence, firmness, and moral courage. Right! There was no doubt about it. It was Max Kristen, the great Max Kristen, a beacon of light in a dark age of fear and hopelessness, as the textbooks described him. He was the one who led all of mankind out of that insane and suffocating nightmare.

  The class finally ended on an unbearably uncomfortable note.

  “Professor,” asked Xi De, running up to the professor as he was about to leave the classroom, “why were the people of the twentieth century so stupid?”

  “Stupid? Oh, they weren’t stupid at all.”

  “Then why would anyone take themselves to the brink of extinction?”

  “That’s the inevitable result.”

  “But Nanning, but if Nanning had not appeared …”

  “Perhaps extinction, perhaps not …”

  “But you just said that humanity was on the brink of extinction. It was certainly Max Kristen who rescued the world.”

  “‘Brink’ does not imply the end. Perhaps the great chaos was the prerequisite for great stability. Max Kristen changed the world.”

  “Professor, why do you say ‘changed’ and not ‘rescued’?”

  The professor made no reply. Xi De watched as he departed, silently shrugging his shoulders. Perhaps, due to his age, his thoughts were not that clear. Xi De could not imagine what sort of a world it would be if not for Max Kristen and Nanning. Perhaps humanity would still be killing, until the last person was dead.

  He was seventeen, on the verge of becoming a young man. But his education had made him superior to most people. Graduates of the Central Superior Academy were the cream of the new world. His parents often bragged about him to the neighbors. Wrapped in thought, Xi De walked back to the dorm. It would soon be lunchtime. He scrutinized the number AH5481 on the back of his hand. AH was the prefix of the high-ranking administrators of the district and was highly respected throughout society. All he had to do was stay focused on his studies and he could guarantee that one day he would enter the Administrative Department of Central City. If he performed well, he could enjoy vacation time, savoring the pleasures of traveling the firmament. That was the most cherished desire of his father, who was a farmer, and one Xi De would gladly accomplish for him.

  5

  Since questioning his professor, Xi De had taken a strong interest in that white-haired old man. So he began paying frequent visits to the professor at his residence in the faculty and staff dorm at dusk.

  The dorms consisted of rows of exquisite two-story buildings facing a clear man-made river and the distant view of the peaceful green mountains.

  In the book-filled rooms where the old man lived (strangely, he didn’t own a television), the two of them developed a father-and-son relationship. While his classmates were tirelessly studying, applying themselves in preparation for making a contribution to the new world, Xi De acquired the habit of whiling away an entire evening in the old professor’s house. Xi De always helped the old man make tea; then they would play various interesting forms of ancient chess. Beneath an antique clock, time seemed to go back several decades. Sometimes they would go to the storeroom and the professor would remove from a box several wooden sculptures or various metal ornaments ravaged by time. One statue of the Mile Buddha in particular seemed to hold an interesting religious tale. Sometimes the professor would offer some historical artifacts omitted from the textbooks. But each time Xi De wanted to delve more deeply into an issue, the professor would change the subject, as if discussing such things was forbidden.

  “Professor,” said Xi De, unable to restrain himself from asking, “have you always been alone?”

  The setting sun shone through the window onto the professor’s wrinkled brow.

  “Ha, Xi De,” the professor replied, laughing softly. “I’m accustomed to being alone, and now there’s you.”

  “But Professor, how can one get by, cut off from the rest of the world?”

  “First, he must be at the end of his life,” said the professor, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Second, he must teach the dying subject of history in this damnable place.”

  “How can it be dying?”

  “In the new world, no one is interested in the past, because there is no time to look back. Xi De, history is becoming an archive to be consulted only when there is a need. If something has no practical value, it has no reason to exist.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s not talk about it,” said the professor, cutting Xi De short. “How is your class work these days?”

  “The school wants me to specialize in resource analysis.”

  “Resource analysis is a course that requires that you only complete the sixteenth level of study.”

  “My grades haven’t been very good. I can’t study any course to the twentieth level or beyond.”

  “What level are you at now?”

  “The thirteenth,” replied Xi De. “I can graduate in another three years.”

  “That’s too bad,” said the professor as he picked up his teacup and took a sip. “Just keep at it; being a resource analyst isn’t bad.”

  “I don’t understand it— since last year, I haven’t been able to focus.”

  “You’re different from the other young people.” He paused for several seconds, his burning eyes resting on Xi De. “You have intelligence.”

  “Intelligence, what’s that?”

  “It’s something natural that humanity is on the verge of losing, and it would take too long to explain.”

  Confused, Xi De stared at the professor. Xi De felt he was in the presence of an enigmatic abyss, difficult to comprehend. In the classroom, all que
stions were answered with reasonable explanations. Higher education did not allow the students to go to bed with any doubts. The instructors wanted you to use a computer in your deliberations, because it could provide answers to all questions as well as assist you in selecting the most accurate answer. Intuition, premonitions, and impulse were proven in the tenth level of education to be a waste of time, irrational, and unscientific. In a highly advanced organization, a mistake in judgment was the most unforgivable of crimes.

  In one simple but effective experiment, they had Xi De swallow a pill in a small room. The pill, it was said, could stimulate a certain part of the brain and, after a brief moment, allow him to experience the illusion of floating. No, it was not an illusion! He really saw himself flying in the sky, the blue sea beneath his feet. Flying into a gust of wind, his cheeks smarted, struck by the high-speed atoms of air. Afterward, when he came to his senses, they let him watch the video made while he was hallucinating. He saw with his own eyes that from start to finish, he’d been in that small room, his arms spread, flapping them the way a bird flaps its wings and making all kinds of comical movements.

  “We ’d rather trust our instruments,” concluded the lab instructor.

  6

  With the strict, precise, and intellectual education that he had received, young Xi De possessed the necessary technical and specialized knowledge to become a resource analyst. In other words, he finally became an envied administrator. In June, he passed his exams for graduation while the classmates with whom he had entered the academy continued on to the seventeenth level. They shook hands with him, their voices totally devoid of any feeling.

  Jin Yisheng, the dean, summoned Xi De to his office.

  “Don’t be too discouraged because you cannot pursue advanced studies,” said the dean, trying to comfort him. “Max Kristen said that the society of the future needs all sorts of talented people. As with a construction crane, every part, every screw must be intact—it’s not just the joystick that is important.”

  After saying good-bye to the dean, Xi De proceeded to Professor Kang’s room and knocked on his door.

  The sound of coughing came from behind the door.

  “Professor, are you all right?”

  “I’ve got a bit of a cold. It doesn’t matter. Come in.”

  “I came to say good-bye,” said Xi De. “I graduated.”

  They sat down in the living room. Professor Kang, who was dressed in pajamas, poured tea for him as usual.

  “Time flies. I remember when you were this small,” said the old man, gesturing with his hand. “It’s strange. I’ve taught so many students, but so few ever come to say good-bye to me.”

  Tears welled up in the professor’s eyes as Xi De watched, astonished.

  “What’s the matter, Professor?”

  “I’m so touched.” He raised his hand to dry his eyes. “Xi De, I think you will encounter all sorts of unexpected troubles in the future. I shouldn’t have told you so many things about the ‘past.’”

  “Nonsense, Professor,” said Xi De, “you have made me more ‘intelligent.’”

  The word made them laugh.

  “Well,” said the old man, “I have nothing to give you. These antiques of mine are of no use to you. But I have some things to say that I hope you will remember after you leave school. Don’t tell anyone about the two of us. You must also be observant, but don’t ask questions, and keep a distance from others. If you have the opportunity, you can come and visit me. That’s enough, Xi De, you’d better get going and pack your things.”

  7

  The Bureau of Resource Analysis was a level-two unit attached to the Ministry of Resources.

  Xi De’s office faced the towering government administrative building. Whether for its imposing nature or its gorgeous exterior, the building had undoubtedly become the symbol of Central City. Xi De often stepped to the window and gazed at the enormous silver structure. On clear days, rays of sunlight would shimmer within his four walls, exuding a charismatic power. He could see nothing else from his window but the government administrative building. His was a small but fully appointed office. He also had two female office assistants. In addition, there was a neat row of stern-looking and forbidding machines, including computers for receiving, dispatching, and analysis. It was Xi De’s job to collect production figures from a given region and, after compiling and organizing them, to produce analytical charts and graphs. The work required utilizing a number of different machines, which occupied most of his time. The moment he felt he could relax a little, he’d step over to the beverage machine, where he’d pour himself a cup of tea or coffee, and then step back over to the window and gaze out at the apparently unchanging scene until he experienced a slight feeling of disgust, after which he would walk over to the desks of the two female assistants and chat with them about anything and everything.

  Aqing and Senni were both outstanding students from the Intermediate Academy. Both were petite and quite attractive. They loved to talk about school life as if it were the only topic worth discussing. The academy specialized in training office staff such as assistants and secretaries. Their special skills included speed reading, typing, counting, and following orders. The curriculum at the Intermediate Academy was superficial compared to that of the Superior Academy, while the discipline was much stricter (the Superior Academy took a much more relaxed attitude when it came to extracurricular activities). On this particular day, they proudly told Xi De about how the braver girls hopped the wall and left the school at night. But judging from the clever gleam in their eyes, it was apparent that they were, in fact, bragging.

  “What did you do when you went out so late?” Xi De couldn’t help asking. The streets were empty at night save for in the amusement districts, and students going out for a stroll on the streets was just inconceivable.

  “We didn’t do anything; we just wanted to get out.”

  Xi De grunted, ending the conversation, and returned to his desk. He lowered his head and focused on his forms for reporting statistics. He didn’t look up again until the music indicating the end of the workday sounded. He put the charts and graphs on his desk in the drawer, walked over to the receiver and switched it to automatic, turned off the data-processing computer, said good-bye to the two young ladies, and left.

  In the elevator, he was accosted by another resource analyst by the name of Lin Xing.

  “Hey, let’s go have a drink.” Lin was tall and thin and had been at the bureau for five years.

  They entered the bar on the ground floor of the building together. At that time, the bar was crowded with employees wearing Ministry of Resources insignias on their lapels. Xi De made his way through the crowd to the bar, where he ordered two glasses of green wine, a pungent, fiery liquor. As the bartender handed him the glasses, he also pushed a small metal box toward him. Xi De touched it with the back of his hand, paying for the drinks.

  “I prefer money, especially those old copper coins,” said Lin Xing. “When you drop a handful of coppers on the bar and hear them ring, now that’s music to the ears.”

  “Abolishing the currency system was progress,” replied Xi De casually. “The age of opinion is a thing of the past; talking about such things is a waste of time.”

  They fell silent. Xi De looked around at the noisy crowd. There were several tables of men and women that seemed to form a loud group. A fat guy with a red face was mouthing a popular song.

  There is no past, there is no future,

  There is nothing but the present for us.

  There is no sadness, there is no happiness,

  There is nothing but indifference for us.

  There is no argument, there is no splitting,

  There is nothing but work for us.

  The song faded amid a burst of raucous laughter. Xi De looked away and clinked glasses with Lin Xing.

  “What do you think?” asked Lin. “You’ve been here almost six months. What do you think?”

  “It’s al
l right. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Of course you don’t have anything to worry about.” Lin laughed grimly. “There’ll come a day when they’ll replace you with a machine.”

  “Lin, you’re drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk, but I can’t go to bed,” he said draining his glass. “See that guy over there? He’s drinking because he is unhappy.”

  “That’s not good,” said Xi De, shaking his head. “It’ll have an impact on his efficiency.”

  “Old chap,” said Lin, pressing closer, “efficiency exists only in the high-level departments. You must know that.”

  It’s classic job fatigue, thought Xi De. Perhaps Lin Xing needed a vacation. Of course, as the books said, in a highly specialized society, people must have the appropriate occupation or the slightest change would create waste. Fatigue and exhaustion are normal physiological phenomena, but how to solve the resultant loss of efficiency and how to restore one’s original work ethic had become the focus of the Bureau of Character Readjustment within the Ministry of Education.

  “How long has it been since your last vacation?”

  “Old chap,” said Lin Xing, looking at him strangely, “I know what you are thinking, so I won’t talk about it anymore with you.”

  8

  Xi De returned to the singles dorm of the Resource Analysis Bureau, which consisted of perfect apartments like a honeycomb occupying the top floors of the building. They contained all sorts of automatic conveniences to the extent that if you needed some article of daily use, all you had to do was touch the computer keyboard. In a matter of minutes the article would be delivered directly to you via a conduit door in the wall. This way of life was superior to the farm life of Xi De’s parents. He once brought his parents to the dormitory and was deeply moved by the expressions of pride they felt for their son. Such affection was rarely encountered. In a fixed job, people moved at a fixed pace and rarely had time for others.

  Still dressed, Xi De fell on his bed. The effect of the wine seemed to have increased. With his hands clasped behind his head, he began to give free rein to his thoughts. Lin Xing’s words made him a little uncomfortable. Over the last few months, he had grown accustomed to the regular order of everything. When something out of the ordinary occurred, it left him feeling alarmed. He would recall the elderly professor at school and how he could actually conjure up the past. But of what use was it? According to the laws of nature, it served only to obstruct the flow of progress. The entire new society was in the process of moving forward, just as Max Kristen said: “Rapid progress will soon leave all problems behind. To pause is to perish.”