The farmer raised his voice to a shrill note in imitation of the woman. ‘What? A pile of shit? What crap is this? You think that after all the years we’ve spent raising animals, I’ll buy that? It might be easy to fool those hoity-toity city folks, but I’m no fool! That’s like saying my dog’s turned into a poet — there’s no way!’
The words flew out of the farmer’s mouth like bats from under the eaves of a house, a rapid stream in a strong rustic accent. When he’d finished howling, he glanced at everyone in turn as if looking for an ally. He licked bread crumbs from the corner of his mouth.
‘I’m an honest farmer, always on schedule with my deliveries. Whatever the government asks me to do, I do. If they tell me to grow rice, I grow rice. If they say to plant hemp, I plant hemp. Everything is according to their plan. They set the price, and that’s the price. If they don’t accept my crops, then I let them rot at home. A fellow like me just wants to provide a simple house for the wife and kid, and to put food on the table. How could I have the time to accompany those who want to take to the streets to play their silly games?’ When he’d had his say, the farmer patted his body here and there, then produced a flattened cigarette pack from one of his pockets. When he discovered that he didn’t have a lighter, he reluctantly put the cigarette back into the pack and let out a long breath, just as if he’d actually taken a puff. ‘The plight of a farmer! Which of you knows anything about that, huh?’
The lamp was not working, and the rest of the house had been left in darkness. Only a faint glimmer from a streetlight fell in through the basement window. The farmer’s voice made a circuit around the room, like the buzzing of a fly. No one paid any attention to him. After a while, his voice died down and he began to snore.
The detainees were released from the basement one by one. Eventually only Mengliu and Qizi were left, sitting at opposite ends of the bench. They could not see each other’s faces.
‘The Wisdom Bureau is so big…This is the first time I’ve noticed you,’ he said.
‘I’ve seen you before. You’re a famous poet. But it’s good that you don’t put on airs.’
‘Where’ve you seen me? And who are you calling “a famous poet”? Is that supposed to be some kind of insult?’
‘It’s from the newspapers of course. Who doesn’t know the poetry of the Three Musketeers? Your poetry, if you don’t mind me being direct, I really like it.’
‘Oh, you mean you guys in the Physics Department are interested in poetry?’
‘We have a literary society too. Unfortunately, the atmosphere at our meetings isn’t much to boast about.’
‘You should join our literary salons. There are forums and poetry readings every week.’
‘Maybe I am an undiscovered poet…but I’m presently tied up in a scientific research project.’
‘Oh? Something relating to the use of a machine in place of the human brain?’
‘A secret machine. The preliminary work will be done soon. I believe we’ll see the results in the near future — at least, in theory. Are you laughing at me? To laugh at me is to laugh at science.’
‘I wouldn’t dare! I hear that the Physics Department has quite a number of creative…geniuses.’
‘You can call me mad and I wouldn’t care. There’s not much to distinguish a mad woman from a genius. To a poet, scientific fantasies may sound weird. For example, would you believe there’s a machine that can detect information anywhere in the world, even extracting human genetic information or accurately calculating the electrical power generated in a lightning storm? And that, harvesting the forces of nature, it is able to absorb data on the world’s finest species?’
‘I think your concept is worth admiring and exploring. But if there really were such a machine, it shouldn’t be used to plunder…’
‘…it also has an automatic conferencing facility that makes policy decisions, and holds think tanks to analyse the situation at hand and offer proposals about how to solve the nation’s incurable diseases. It serves so many functions. It converses with people. Its methods are even more humane than a human’s.’
‘Humane? Unless it has emotions…This machine, is it male or female?’
‘How far we can progress is only limited by the smallness of our minds. Never doubt science, Yuan Mengliu.’ She used his own name to mock him.
‘Yes, yes, yes. Humans wanted to go to the moon, so they went to the moon. And if they want to go to hell, they’ll go to hell.’ Mengliu was rather enjoying himself.
But Qizi was taken away. Before long, he left the basement too.
The streetlights were dim. The people on the streets were wrapped up warmly.
The night mingled with the snow, a world of black and white.
5
The sky over the lake suddenly turned dark with rolling clouds and a freakish wind. The gigantic waves were like horses rushing out of an open gate, striking the hull of the boat with a loud crash, raising the bow out of the water and throwing Mengliu into the cabin, where he struck his head just hard enough to daze himself. The maddened clouds surged together, twisting in a fury into one great pillar that towered over the lake and drew it up into a funnel, leaving a spinning whirlpool at its centre. The sail, caught in the winds, began to flap violently, and everything turned black before Mengliu’s eyes. Both his body and his consciousness were sucked into the great black hole.
He did not know how much time had passed before he opened his eyes to see the clear moon overhead, looking like a round loaf of bread in the sky. The forest around him was dark and full of rustling sounds. The leaves of the trees reflected the light from the moon, as if countless pairs of eyes were watching. His body lay in the damaged boat, his legs dangled in the water. He was so cold that his teeth chattered. He cursed. The boat sank beneath his hand as he tried to push himself up.
He was soaked. He waded towards the bank, starting a bright ripple in the water that accompanied the sound of his splashing. Scrambling ashore, he shouted several times, but even his voice seemed dark and hollow. He wasn’t sure whether his shivering was inspired by the cold or by his fear. The moonlight was cold, the shells strewn along the bank reflected its light. He was surrounded by a pale blue fog. He wrapped his arms around his body. He was barefoot, and wore little more than tattered rags. He took each step cautiously, hoping to see some signs of habitation.
The moon was a dandy. As he walked, it followed him, mocking him for his beggarly appearance.
He was like a louse on an elephant’s body, nothing more than a tiny insect in the forest. Branches whipped against him as he moved along, stinging his flesh.
As he crested the hill, the moon went into hiding. He was suddenly plunged into darkness. The strange nocturnal sounds made his hair stand on end.
As he walked on in the darkness, in an attempt to warm himself, he began to think of his most recent conquest. Suitang was a lovely girl. She chewed gum the first time she reported for work. She looked so much like Qizi that Mengliu had to catch his breath. When she took the initiative and asked to be his assistant, his mind became even more muddled. He compared her to a lily which flowed with a secret fragrance. He knew that Suitang would be completely taken in by this sort of elaborate but common analogy. At night, she would stand before the mirror, blushing, posturing and preening, seeing the dazzling human world reflected in her dark eyes.
The next morning the sun shone into the forest and warmed the ground. Mengliu felt a tongue of sandpaper licking him all over. Opening his eyes, he saw a huge lion’s head, and his whole body went limp. As he stared at it, he realised that the lion must be a benevolent creature, since it allowed birds to perch atop its head and sing. Another lion stood nearby grazing on a clump of grass. An antelope, an elk and a kangaroo played close to them. The eyes of the animals looked happy, their ears moved like strings on a plucked instrument and their tails were swaying gently.