Once again, he returned to the balcony. The moon was now in the western sky and shadows had lengthened, as though the city had finished dreaming and fallen deeper into slumber.
He thought about ways to spread this new future technology. The necessary strategies were different from the last time. First, the laser drilling technology would itself generate attractive military and civilian applications. He should be able to popularize it first and wait for the industry to mature before revealing the far more astounding idea of geoelectricity. At the same time, he could advocate for development of other ancillary technologies like extreme heat-tolerant electric terminals. The initial investment still had to come from the four-trillion-yuan stimulus package, and he still needed to find an influential entity to take up the research project. He was confident of success because he knew he had the technical secrets.
I’ve decided on a new path. Has history changed again?
As if answering his thoughts, the phone rang for the third time. The westering moon was now half-peeking from behind a tall building across the way, as if giving this world one last terrified glance before her departure.
“I’m you, calling from the year 2125.”
The caller paused, as if waiting for him to ask questions, but he dared not. The hand squeezing the phone grew clammy, and he was already exhausted. Finally, he asked, “You want me to listen to the noises of your world, don’t you?”
“I don’t think you’ll hear much this time.”
Still, he strained to listen. There was only a slight buzzing that sounded like interference. Surely a signal passing through space-time had to deal with interference, which could have come from any time between now and 2125, or the emptiness that existed outside of time and the cosmos.
“Are you still in Shanghai?” he asked his future self.
“Yes.”
“I can’t hear anything. Maybe all your cars are electric and practically silent.”
“The cars are all in the tunnels, which is why you can’t hear them.”
“Tunnels? What do you mean?”
“Shanghai is now underground.”
The moon disappeared behind the building, and everything darkened. He felt himself sinking into the earth. “What happened?”
“The surface is full of radiation. You’ll die if you stay up there for a few hours without protection. And it’ll be an ugly death, with blood seeping all over your skin—”
“Radiation! What are you talking about?”
“The sun. Yes, you’ve succeeded. Geoelectric power grew even faster than the silicon plow, and by 2020, the geoelectricity extraction industry had outgrown the coal and oil industries combined. As it matured, the efficiency and cost of this technology couldn’t be matched even by the silicon plow, let alone fossil fuels. The world’s energy needs soon grew to be entirely dependent on geoelectricity. It was clean, cheap, and so perfect that many wondered how it had taken humanity thousands of years after the invention of the compass to finally think of drawing upon the giant dynamo beneath our feet. As the economy soared on the wings of this sustainable energy source, the environment also improved. Humanity believed that our civilization had finally achieved the dream of effortless growth, and the future would only get better.”
“And then?”
“At the beginning of this century, geoelectricity suddenly ran out. Compasses no longer pointed north. I’m sure you know that the Earth’s electric field is our planet’s shield. It deflects the solar wind and protects our atmosphere. But now, the Van Allen belts are gone, and the solar wind buffets the Earth like a petri dish placed under an ultraviolet light.”
He tried to speak, but only a croak emerged from his throat. He felt chills all over.
“This is only the start. Over the next three to five centuries, the solar wind will destroy the Earth’s atmosphere, boil away the ocean and all other surface water.”
Another inarticulate croak.
“We’ve finally achieved a breakthrough in controlled nuclear fusion, and together with the reconstructed oil and coal industries, humanity now possesses inexhaustible sources of energy. Most of the power we generate, however, is pumped into the Earth to restart the magnetic field. So far the results are not encouraging.”
“We have to fix it!”
“Yes, that’s right. You must delete both emails from the future.”
He turned to head back inside. “I’ll do it right now.”
“Just a minute. Once you delete them, history will change again, and our connection will break off.”
“Right. The world will return to its original timeline of fossil fuel dominance.”
“And you’ll go on with your life as before.”
“Please, tell me about our life after this moment.”
“I can’t. Telling you will change the future.”
“I understand that knowing the future will change it. But I still want to know a few things.”
“Sorry. I can’t.”
“How about just tell me if we’ll be living the life we wanted? Are we happy?”
“I can’t.”
“Will I get married? Kids? How many boys and girls?”
“I can’t.”
“After Wen, will I fall in love again?”
He thought his future self was going to refuse to answer again, but the voice remained silent. All he could hear was the hissing of the winds of time through the empty valley of more than a century dividing them. Finally, he heard the answer.
“Never again.”
“What? I won’t love again for more than a hundred years?”
“No. A life is not unlike the history of all of humanity. The choice presented to you the first time may also be the best, but there’s no way to know without traveling down other timelines.”
“So I’ll be alone all my life?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you…. Though loneliness is the human condition, still we must conduct our lives with grace and strive for joy. It’s time.”
Without another word, the call ended. His phone dinged, signaling a text. Attached to the message was a short video, which he copied to his computer to be able to see better.
A sea of flames dominated the screen. It took a while for him to understand that he was looking at the sky. The fiery lights weren’t from burning fire, but auroras that filled the firmament from horizon to horizon, generated by solar wind particles striking the atmosphere. Billowy red curtains convulsed across the vault of heaven like a mountain of snakes. The sky seemed to be made of some liquid, a terrifying sight.
There was a single building resembling a stack of spheres on the ground: the Oriental Pearl Tower. The mirrored surfaces reflected the fiery sea above, and the spheres themselves seemed to be made of flames. Closer to the camera stood a man dressed in a heavy protective suit whose surface was brightly reflective and smooth, like a man-shaped mirror. The heavenly fire was reflected in this man-mirror as well, and the flame snakes, distorted by the curved surfaces, appeared even more eerie. The entire scene flowed and shimmered as though the world had turned to molten lava. The man raised a hand toward the camera, saying hello and goodbye to the past at once.
The video ended.
Was that me?
Then he remembered that he had more important tasks. He deleted the emails and all attachments. Then, after a moment, he began to reformat the disk and zero out the sectors with multiple passes.
By the time the reformatting had completed, it was just another ordinary night. The man who had changed the course of human history three times in a single night but who in the end had changed nothing fell asleep in front of his computer.