Dai-tai abruptly stopped their tour of the night sky. “Now Governor Chang will see you in the office downstairs,” she told Fred, and the two women guided him downstairs into another large room, this one with a white ceiling and a broad window in the far wall. A reception room, it looked like. Near the window a large jade statue of a goddesslike figure gleamed under inset ceiling lights. A Guanyin, Fred was told. Buddhist goddess of mercy. Governor Chang would be with them soon.
Fred nodded nervously. Some people at home had warned him that the Chinese always tried to strip intellectual property from any foreign technology firms doing business in China. These people had speculated that the Chinese lunar administration had purchased this system from Swiss Quantum Works specifically to do that. Fred wasn’t privy to whatever his employers were doing to guard against that possibility, and he didn’t know why they had agreed to this sale. He did know that he had been sent here with nothing but the mobile quantum key device itself; everything else to do with the system was either in his head or not on the moon at all. He had memorized the activation code and was ready to deal with any problems that might crop up when they activated the phone and connected it with its opposite number, which he assumed was on Earth, though he didn’t know for sure. All he had to do was make sure the right recipient had it when he turned it on and connected it, and deal with bugs if any appeared. The phone’s debuggability was high, so that didn’t worry him much. It was the moments like this he didn’t like, the small talk, the waiting for people to show. Lateness was rude, his mom had always said.
Three men entered the room. One introduced himself as Li Bingwen and said he was the Lunar Authority’s Party secretary. Li shook Fred’s hand and then introduced him to the other two in a quick flurry of names. Agent Gang, Scientific Research Steering Committee; Mr. Su, Cyberspace Administration of China. Gang was tall and bulky, Su short and slight. Unsettled by this unexpected trio, Fred shook hands with Gang and Su, then kept his gaze fixed somewhere vaguely between them.
The three men all spoke English, as their greetings had made clear. Now Li exclaimed, “Welcome to the moon! How do you like it so far?”
“It’s interesting,” Fred said. Carefully he gestured at the window. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Indeed not. Let me tell you that Governor Chang Yazu will be joining us shortly. He has been slightly detained. Meanwhile, tell us about your visit. Are you going to travel around much, see things, go to the American station at the north pole?”
“No. I won’t be staying long. I have to activate my company’s device for you, and make sure it’s connected with its twin and working well. After that I’ll head home.”
“You should see as much as you can,” Li urged him. “It’s important that Americans who visit us see what we are doing here, and tell your fellow citizens at home.”
“I’ll do my best,” Fred said, trying to keep his balance both physically and diplomatically. “Although actually I work for a Swiss company.”
“Of course. But we come in peace for all mankind, as your Apollo astronauts put it.”
“So it seems,” Fred said. “Thank you.”
“Come over here and tell us about your new quantum telephone, if I can call it that. Governor Chang will join us shortly. As head of station he is very busy.”
Fred followed the Chinese to a cluster of chest-high tables, each rimmed by a handrail. As he walked he flexed his toes in an attempt to imitate Li, or even just to stay upright, but his balance was still very elusive. He clutched a table handrail and began to feel dizzy again.
“Have you been in a centrifuge yet?” Li asked him.
“Yes, my hotel room was spinning last night. It felt very homey.”
“Very good. We have meeting rooms also that spin to one g. Many people try to spend most of their time in centrifuge rooms. It will go better for you back on Earth if you do the same.”
“Thanks, I’ll try to do that.”
“You’ll appreciate it later. Ah, here is Governor Chang now. After introductions we will quickly bow out and leave you two to your work.”
“Okay. Thanks for meeting me.”
“My pleasure.”
The man who had just hurried into the room lurched forward, stopped and greeted Li Bingwen first. “Thanks, Secretary Li. I’m sorry to be late.”
“It’s all right. I’ve enjoyed talking to your visitor here. Fred Fredericks, this is Governor Chang Yazu, head of our Lunar Special Administrative Region.”
“Nice to meet you,” Fred said.
Chang extended his hand and Fred took it, and they shook hands. Chang looked surprised; he peered over Fred’s shoulder with a puzzled expression. Then he crumpled to one side. Fred followed him down, wondering why his balance had chosen that moment to fail him. The scent of oranges.
When he came to, people were standing over him. He was on the floor, light-headed, dizzy, sick. Light in general, as if floating. “Wha.” He couldn’t remember where he was, and as he tried to recall that, he realized he couldn’t remember who he was either. He couldn’t remember anything. Panic spiked in him. The giant faces looking down on him were saying things he couldn’t hear. He was apparently on the floor. Looking up at strangers, deaf, sick. He struggled hard for a sense of what was going on.
“Mr. Fredericks! Mr. Fredericks!”
Hearing those words burst some dam inside him, and it all came back in a rush. Fred Fredericks, computer specialist, Swiss Quantum Works. Visiting the moon. No doubt that explained the floating feeling. “Wha?”
They were moving him onto a stretcher. Someone was swabbing his hands and face. Some jostling to get him through a doorway almost bounced him off the stretcher. Rapid conversation he was not hearing properly, but wait—it was Chinese. That explained the songlines crisscrossing above him.
Then he was in some kind of container, a car or elevator or operation chamber, it was hard to tell. Floating sickly on some awful fabric. Into a space green with bamboo leaves. Faint or throw up, sure, but not both! Hold breath so as not to throw up, black tube, falling—
When he came to, there were East Asian faces looking at him, and he couldn’t at first remember where he was, or who. This had happened before, he felt.
“Mr. Fredericks?” one of the faces asked. Ah, he thought. Fred. On moon. Chinese base.
“Yes?” he said. His voice came from a distance. Tongue fat in his mouth. Ah God—in the moon’s gravity even one’s tongue floated a little, swimming up to roof of mouth. Effort needed to pull it down into its normal trough between the lower teeth. A brief clutch of nausea at this bizarre sensation.