“But… are you sure there’s a chute there? If it’s a garbage chute, I’ll end up falling to death if I crawl in there to escape being burnt to death! How do you know all of this? From the PSB computer?”
“No. The information ought to be on fire and security computers, but I couldn’t find it anywhere I looked in their databases, so I linked up with the computer at the municipal architectural design institute responsible for the building, and determined from their blueprints that a chute was indeed installed.”
“What about downstairs? And the other kids?”
“I’m calling them as we speak.”
“By the time you get in touch with each of them the building will be burnt to cinders! I’ll take the stairs and go tell them.”
“No, it’s too dangerous. The other children have already been notified. You stay here and don’t move, but keep on the phone and I’ll tell you when to get into the chute. The kids downstairs are sliding down right now, and for safety’s sake, you shouldn’t crowd the chute. Don’t be afraid. The toxic smoke won’t reach your floor for another ten minutes.”
I was notified three minutes later, and I popped into the escape chute through the red door and slid smoothly to the ground and exited safely through the fire exit. Outside, I found twenty-odd children who had already escaped, all of them on the instructions of the voice from Beijing. They told me that the fire had started just ten minutes earlier.
I was shocked, since this was something I never imagined would happen. The kid in Beijing had searched for information on two separate computers (combing through all of the data on one of them), and had given phone calls to more than twenty children, all in the space of ten minutes.
I was in more pain than I’d ever been in in my life. A stomach ache, a headache, my vision was all green-tinted, I was vomiting constantly, and I could barely breathe. I had no strength left to stand up, and even if I could, there were no doctors. I struggled to the desk to reach for the phone, but before my fingers touched it, it started ringing. Then a boy’s voice said, “Hello. This is the central government. I’m here to help you.”
I wanted to tell him my predicament, but before I could speak I groaned and vomited again, just a little bit of water this time.
“You’ve got stomach trouble, right?”
“Yes… yes… it hurts. How do you know?” I croaked out with difficulty.
“Five minutes ago I linked up with the central computer at the municipal water plant and discovered that a monitoring program in the purification system malfunctioned from being unattended, and despite a reduction in water volume, chlorine was added according to the volume of ten hours ago, meaning that tap water for the eastern half of the city contains chlorine levels nine-point-seven times the safe maximum. As a result, many children have been poisoned. You are one of them.”
I remembered that I’d started feeling ill after my thermos ran out and I began using tap water.
“A kid will visit you in a little while. Don’t drink any water in your house before then.”
Just as he finished speaking, the door opened and a girl I’d never seen before came in holding a medicine bottle and a thermos filled with boiled water. The medicine and water had me feeling better in no time. I asked how she knew I was sick, and how she knew what medicine to bring. Was her dad a doctor? She told me the central government had telephoned to tell her to come, and the medicine was given to her by some boys. Their fathers weren’t doctors either; the central government had instructed them to get the medicine from the hospital pharmacy. They’d been called at their home, which was next to the hospital. When they got to the pharmacy, the central government called them there, and the pharmacy computer displayed the drug name. When they still couldn’t find it, the terminal showed them the color and shape of the bottle. The central government had them take all the medicine they could find and put it on a cart and then distribute it to a long list of addresses the computer printed out for them. On the way, the boys met two other groups of kids coming from different hospitals bringing large quantities of the same medicine. When they couldn’t find an address, public phones at the roadside would ring, and when they picked up, it was the central government with more instructions….
SUPERNOVA ERA, HOUR 4
To the delight of the children in the hall at the top floor of the NIT, the red patches on the onscreen national map began to contract, slowly at first and then faster, as if a heavy rain were putting out a forest fire.
SUPERNOVA ERA, HOUR 5
The map’s red patches had turned to red points that were rapidly winking out.
SUPERNOVA ERA, HOUR 6
Although a large number of red points remained on the map, the report from Digital Domain announced that the country as a whole was no longer in danger.
At the start of the Supernova Era, human society underwent shocks and changes more drastic than any in history; periods were reckoned not in the decades or centuries of the previous era, but in days or even hours. To later historians, the first six hours of the new era were treated as a single period, known as the Suspension.
Exhausted child leaders emerged onto the balcony outside the hall, where they shivered under a crisp breeze. Fresh air entered their lungs and flowed throughout their bodies, and in the space of a few seconds it was as if their veins had been injected with new blood in place of the old. Their heartbeat and breathing grew more vigorous. It was still a while till sunrise, but the sky was already light and the city was visible in every detail. Fires and smoke had vanished; the streetlights glowed, proving that power had been restored, but few lights were on in the buildings, and the streets were empty. The city was at peace, like it had just dropped off to sleep. A bird of some kind passed swiftly through the clear sky overhead, uttering a brief call.
The eastern horizon brightened. The new world waited to welcome its first sunrise.
6
INERTIA
INSPECTION
Suspension shattered all of the dry run’s fantasies of smooth operations, and destroyed the confidence the children had built up during that time. At last they understood that life was far more difficult than they imagined. Regardless, the children’s country still managed to struggle to its feet.
During the first two months of the new era, the country focused on recovering from the wounds Suspension had inflicted, and strove to keep on the rails. Work was hard going. To gain a sense of the state of the country, the three child leaders carried out two weeks of inspections throughout the country.
Children say what they mean. Wherever they went, children in all sectors spoke their minds, and the leaders were privately shocked by what they learned about social conditions. The public’s state of mind was summed up in three words: tired, bored, and disappointed.
On the first day of the inspection, a kid in Tianjin showed Huahua a copy of his daily schedule: Rise at 0600, eat a quick breakfast, humanities class at 0630, grade 5, primarily by self-study. At 0830 start work. Get off work at 1700. After dinner, at 1900, begin specialty classes in job-related knowledge and skills. Finish at 2200, add another hour of humanities. The day didn’t end until 2300.