All of the country’s children were calling Beijing, as if crying out to the sun still below the horizon. Beijing was hope, Beijing was power, Beijing was the sole source of sustenance in this strange new loneliness. The megadisaster had come so quickly that the adults could not possibly have had time to arrange everything, but the multitude of voices were crying out to a group of thirteen-year-olds, who like their peers had no source of support, and like them were facing this newborn world of children under the weight of profound terror and infinite bewilderment.
The child leaders answered the endless series of phone calls knowing that they were little better off than the faraway children calling in. Still they answered every one. They understood that every word transmitted from the capital was like a ray of light for the terrified and lonely children struggling against the darkness, giving them a huge boost of comfort and strength. They kept at this urgent work until they were dazed and dizzy from fatigue, until they grew hoarse, unable to talk, and had to take turns handling the incoming calls. They were disgusted at their own weakness, frustrated that they couldn’t speak through ten thousand mouths. Answering the millions of voices was like draining the sea with a teacup.
Xiaomeng sighed, “Who knows how bad it’s gotten in the outside world.”
Huahua said, “We can take a look for ourselves,” and tapped the remote to turn the walls transparent. What they saw froze them to the spot. Fires sent columns of smoke into the air, like black feathers stuck into the city, tinged red by the flickering firelight, or stained green by shorts in electrical equipment. A few children dashing down the empty streets looked like tiny black dots. All of a sudden, those black dots, streets, and the city itself plunged into darkness, leaving clusters of buildings lit only in flashes by the flickering fires. The city had lost power.
A chilly voice rang out in the halclass="underline" “External electricity interrupted. Switching to NIT emergency power.”
Then Big Quantum displayed the latest national status report onscreen:
The Supernova Era has been in progress for 1 hour 11 minutes.
NATIONAL STATUS REPORT #1139:
Abnormal operations at government and administrative institutions at all levels. 62% of national government agencies have ceased functioning; the majority of the remainder are not functioning normally.
Power systems abnormal. 63% of thermal power plants and 56% of hydropower stations nonfunctioning. The national power grid is highly unstable, and 8% of major cities and 14% of small and midsized cities have lost all power.
Urban water supply systems abnormal. Water supply has been cut off entirely in 81% of large cities and 88% of small and midsized cities, and the majority of the remainder are barely managing interrupted supply.
91% of urban supply chains, services, and life-support systems completely paralyzed.
85% of rail and road systems interrupted. Accident rates have increased dramatically. Civil aviation totally paralyzed.
Social order is in chaos. Fear-induced mass panic has risen dramatically in cities.
31,136,537 fires have been detected throughout the country, 55% caused by electrical failures, the remainder fuel and chemical blazes.
Floods are relatively less common at present, but threatening conditions have increased dramatically. 89% of dams on major rivers are unattended, and 94% of water-control projects are at immediate risk of serious accidents such as dam bursts.
At present, just 3.31% of territory is under dangerous climate conditions; no occurrences of earthquakes, volcanoes, or other large-scale natural disasters. However, capacity for emergency recovery has plummeted, and should a disaster occur it will cause serious losses.
At present, 8.379% of the child population is affected by disease, 23.158% lack sufficient food, 72.090% lack sufficient drinking water, and 11.6% lack adequate clothing. These percentages are continuing to increase dramatically.
Warning! High-level warning! The country is in danger!
Then a map appeared again, this time covered in red patches indicating regions with high levels of danger. Other maps appeared in succession showing differently distributed patches of red that indicated areas of electrical, water, transport, and fire danger, before settling on a composite image in which the country was covered in urgently flashing red, like a sea of fire.
The children began to buckle under the immense psychological pressure. The first to break was the girl in charge of national health care. She threw down the receiver and her fragile frame crumpled to the floor, and she began bawling and crying out for her mother: “Mama! Mama!”
Zhang Weidong, in charge of light industry, also threw down his receiver and shouted, “This isn’t work for children. I can’t do it. I quit!” And then he headed toward the door.
Lü Gang blocked him at the door and pushed him back.
But it was too late. Things had already gotten out of control. Many were in tears, and some, overagitated, dropped their receivers and surged toward the door.
“I can’t do it either. I’m leaving.”
“I knew I couldn’t handle it, but they made me. I want to leave too.”
“Yeah. We’re just kids. We can’t take on this kind of responsibility.”
Lü Gang pulled out a pistol and fired two shots straight up. The bullets pierced the ceiling, and two snowflake cracks appeared in the nanomaterial. “I’m warning you,” he barked. “You can’t chicken out.”
But the shots only stopped the group for a few seconds. Zhang Weidong said, “You think we’re afraid to die? No. The stuff we’re doing now is worse than death.”
The kids behind him pushed toward the door again. Someone said, “Go ahead and shoot us.”
Someone else added, “You’d be doing us a favor.”
Lü Gang sighed and put the gun down. Zhang Weidong passed by him and pulled open the door, and the children followed him outside.
“Wait. I’ve got something to say,” Huahua shouted after them to no effect. But what he said next stopped them in their tracks, as if by magic. “The adults are coming!”
They turned around to look at him, and those that had left the hall came back inside. Huahua went on, “They’ve come back into the NIT… wait… they’re in the elevators. They’re about to get here.”
“Are you dreaming?” someone asked.
“Whether I’m dreaming is irrelevant. What’s critical right now is, what are we going to do? When they enter the hall, what are we going to do?”
The children fell silent.
“We’ll have to say to them: Welcome to the children’s world! Your instructions are appreciated! But you have to understand that this is the children’s world, and children have solemnly accepted it according to the law and the constitution. The world is ours now. We’ll have hardships and difficulties, and no end of disasters and sacrifices, but everything is our responsibility, and we will shoulder it. We are in this position not because of any skill of our own, but because of the unexpected disaster. But we have the same duty as the adults who occupied the position before us, and we will not shirk it!”
Then Xiaomeng flipped on one of the computer’s communication channels, and the sound of crying children, clearly a large group of them, filled the hall. She said, “Listen to that, all of you. By leaving your posts, you’re the greatest criminals in history!”
“Whether or not we leave doesn’t matter. We’re not capable of leading the country!” one kid said.