The warning from the Northern Base was concise.
Polly stated, “They’ve found it too.”
An Zhe gazed outside.
The Highland Research Institute was on the highest mountain. Looking down, they could see the Abyss. The huge fault zone resembled a fierce wound on the grey-white skin of the earth. The dense forest and swamp were the plasma and pus of this wound. Far away—the distant east was the sea or a huge lake. In short, the end couldn’t be seen. When everything was quiet, whispers mixed in the wind and there was a looming large wave in the fog.
In short, it was like a monster sitting quietly on the ground.
This wasn’t the Abyss that An Zhe was familiar with. He had experienced it before. The Abyss of the past was a place full of blood and looting. It was never so calm. A dark shadow appeared in the distant sky. The shadow grew larger as it got closer and finally stopped over the white building.
Tang Lan gathered his wings with a cry and landed directly in the corridor outside. Then he pushed open the door of the laboratory.
“Sir, I’m back.” He finished and turned to Run. “Have there been any attacks recently?”
Rum answered, “No.”
Polly Joan raised his head and examined Tang Lan from top to bottom, as if confirming his condition. If the one doing this was Lu Feng then An Zhe would feel that he was trying to decide if this person should be shot or not. Meanwhile, Polly’s grey-blue eyes examined Tang Lan with the kindness of an elder, as if he was worried that Tang Lan was injured outside.
Sure enough, Polly wondered, “Was there danger outside?”
“It was dangerous but I wasn’t injured. I am more experienced.”
Polly said, “You are just reassuring me.”
Tang Lan smiled, his eyebrows sharp and beautiful, a vicious and cold killing spirit hidden. An Zhe remembered that Hubbard was the best mercenary leader and his vice-captain must not be a slouch either.
Polly Joan questioned, “How is it outside?”
Tang Lan replied, “It is pretty much what you expected. They are balanced.”
Then he pulled a data cable out of a drawer and connected a miniature camera to the computer. Hundreds of pictures were loaded onto the large screen.
At first glance, these pictures were empty. They only showed the indescribably strange landscape peculiar to the Abyss, as if it was a landscape photo taken by curious tourists. However, when looking closely, one couldn’t help holding their breath.
One of the most striking photos was a huge lake from an aerial view. The lake had frozen and the ice had covered the brown algae, the floating branches and fallen leaves. Yet just below the ice surface, there was a huge, irregular black shadow—the back of an aquatic creature. It just stayed underwater like this, the shadow seeming like an abstract painting.
Right at the shore of this lake, the grey vines were tangled around the dead branches of the dense forest. The next photo was a close up of the vines. The appearance was as smooth as an earthworm and there were radial star-shaped patterns under the skin. The black blood vessels seemed to be moving in agitation again and again. An Zhe immediately realized that this wasn’t an ordinary plant. The vines throughout the forest were all monsters with the same tentacles.
“Only one was taken here because it found me,” Tang Lan told them.
Polly took the remote control to glance through the photos.
“They have gone through three months of killing and now they are all large monsters. The small monsters are completely invisible.” Tang Lan continued. “I fought with them a few times. Sir, I am sure that out of the entire institute, I’m the only one with the strength to escape from them but I can’t fight them all. Moreover, all the monsters in the Abyss are polymorphic. I’m not sure how terrible they are now.”
“I see.” Polly nodded slowly, his grey-blue eyes showing a solemn expression. “If genes are a resource then they have completed the integration within the Abyss. Now the monsters have also reached a balance of power and their intelligence might’ve been greatly improved during the integration process. They understand that a battle might result in losses for both. If this guess is correct, some monsters should now leave the Abyss and hunt outward. Humans must also be one of the targets they hunt but they haven’t noticed for a while. We will have to prepare to defend against the collective attack of monsters at all times.”
“It is true but one point is different from your guess.” Tang Lan refuted.
“What did you find?”
Tang Lan controlled the computer and changed it to a photo. It was hard to imagine how ugly this photo was. An Zhe had no sense of aesthetics but he was sure that this photo could be described as ugly—because it impacted human senses to the greatest extent. On the surface of two dense molluscs were organs that couldn’t be described with the human language. Tentacles were flowing with mucus as they touched each other. In the next photo, their tentacles separated. In the photo after that, one of them headed in another direction.
“Six cases have been observed in a similar situation. The monsters didn’t occupy their individual territories and stand still as you originally predicted. They walked the Abyss, testing each other and then separating.” Tang Lan’s voice became solemn and low. “I suspect the worst is happening. Sir, they seem to be communicating. I don’t know what they are communicating but whenever they come into contact with each other, I can feel the fluctuations in them becoming stronger.”
He continued, “I suspect they are perceiving each other and testing if the other has the genes they need.”
“Probably,” Polly replied. “In the institute, you are one of the people most sensitive to this volatility.”
“I am becoming more sensitive to it recently.” Tang Lan’s face paled. “It is everywhere in the air and every monster has it. Sometimes I feel that even the stones on the ground are vibrating. It is getting harder and harder to keep thinking. I shouldn’t have come back so early but I can feel that my own fluctuations are being incorporated into them. Sir, I… I’m a bit abnormal.”
Polly held his hand, voice calm. “Don’t be afraid.”
“100 years ago, when the genetic sequence of an organism was the most stable, some species were extremely sensitive to changes in the magnetic field. You happened to have fused with one such creature.”
“However, it isn’t the magnetic field. I can feel that the magnetic field is another type of fluctuation.” Tang Lan closed his eyes. He half-knelt down, his forehead against the back of Polly’s hand as he spoke in a hoarse voice, “Sir, do you already understand what is happening? You didn’t seem to feel any surprise when I said this.”
“Still, you won’t tell us because the truth is something we can’t afford. However, I really…”
The more he spoke, the more intermittent his words became and in the end, he couldn’t sustain it.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid… Child.” Polly’s right hand grasped Tang Lan’s shoulder, his voice like a gentle ocean. “I will protect you to the last moment of my life.”
Tang Lan raised his head and stared directly at Polly Joan as he solemnly vowed, “We will also protect you and this institute to the last moment.”
“I never asked you but if the day comes when the institute no longer exists…” Polly spoke slowly. “I ask you not to plunge into the flood of monsters and heterogeneous species. Instead, go to the north to protect the human base.”
“The judges will kill all heterogeneous species. The base will never accept us.”
Polly looked out into the wild twilight.
“Even so, at the last moment, I still want to believe in human kindness and tolerance to the fullest extent.”
Tang Lan’s lips curved slightly as he gazed up at Polly Joan. “That is because of your noble, bright and clear character.”
Polly smiled and shook his head.
***
After Tang Lan’s departure, the Simpson Cage’s energy level reached a critical value. A dazzling scarlet light was shining on the platform below the white building and a heat wave rose. If it wasn’t clear that this was a high-energy field made by the machine to capture the basic particle vibration frequency and track the interaction of these basic particles, An Zhe would almost think there was a raging sea of fire downstairs.
The large screen in the laboratory was the terminal and operating table of the Simpson Cage. However, due to design defects, sometimes it was necessary to manually adjust the rods of certain precision devices when going downstairs if they wanted to adjust the parameters of the Simpson Cage.
On the big screen, the lines were still cluttered but they weren’t static. Whenever Polly adjusted the parameters, these lines would change from one type of mess to another type of mess, eventually cluttering together.
Still, Polly analyzed the lines, calculated the functions, adjusted the parameters and changed the receiving frequency again and against. The ever-changing lines jumped on the screen.
Music interrupted An Zhe’s thoughts. The old tape recorder in the corridor was playing the ups and downs of Symphony No. 5, the Fate Symphony. Rum stood by the window with a score in front of him. He was playing the harmonica to the score, imitating the melody of the symphony. It was unknown how long it took him to stop.
He wondered, “Do you understand music?”
An Zhe shook his head.
Run pointed to the recorder. “After listening to a song, do you know how to blow it out?”
An Zhe increased the frequency of his head shaking. He could only appreciate one-ten thousandth of the ups and downs of this complex symphony, let alone reproduce it.
“There needs to be a score.” Rum turned the sheet music and whispered.
He said ‘score’ but his eyes were on the screen in the middle of the laboratory.
It was as if a virtual string in the sky was gently moving. The chaos and complex thoughts instantly became clear. An Zhe suddenly had wide eyes. “The volatility is a symphony. Polly, he wants to find the score. Then… then he can do many things.”
Rum looked at An Zhe with dark eyes. “You are smarter than me.”
An Zhe also looked at the screen. Could the secret of the distortion disaster be analyzed from these lines? His eyes were lost.
Or perhaps this never-ending chaos was already a truth in another sense.
An unspeakable silence enveloped the laboratory and An Zhe lowered his head. The fate of humanity was as elusive as that line. All this might have nothing to do with a mushroom but he sometimes felt it was difficult to breathe.
It was hard to explain why but his fingers were on the keyboard as he faced the communication channel with the Northern Base.
The movements of his fingers weren’t flexible anymore, just like his mycelium could no longer stretch out. His fingertips would tremble with difficulty when he hit the keys. Without fiber optics and a base station, the communication cost was very high. Just like the telegraph communication of the last century, he had to save words.
He sent: How is the base?
It seemed an absurd coincidence. At around the same time, the communication channel lit up and a similar message was sent from the Northern Base.
“How is the research institute?”
The Northern Base could pay anything for the purity of human genes. They hated monsters and the Trial Court would never tolerate heterogeneous species. It seemed that only Dr Ji, a kind-hearted scientist, would tolerate the existence of the fusion faction and care about its condition.
“Everything’s fine,” An Zhe replied.
Pretending that everything was going well was a unique human skill that he had learned. A few seconds later, the other side also replied. “The base as well.”
An Zhe pondered for a long time in front of the communication channel before slowly tapping the next sentence, “Is the Judge well?”
He thought about it and pressed the backspace key, deleting the words.
Just after he deleted it, the Northern Base sent a message.
“Has the institute discovered a new type of variant individual recently?”
An Zhe thought a bit before replying, “Not yet.”
He replied before sending the revised sentence.
“Is the Trial Court well?”
The other side replied, “The Trial Court is working.”
An Zhe felt a bit more relaxed.
“Good luck.” He politely sent a closing remark. “Good night.”
The other side’s reply was also brief.
“Good night.”
Looking at these two words, An Zhe removed his fingers from the keyboard and took out the silver badge. His body was getting weaker more quicker and was reaching its last moments. His knuckles were stiff as he tried to hold the badge in his hand.
There was a noise from the stairs. It was Polly going upstairs but instead of returning to the room, he stood silently against the corridor’s railings, his back to the room.
An Zhe stood up, opened the door and came to Polly. The music stopped. Downstairs, the Simpson Cage was burning with flames and night came. Far away, there was a long howl from the distant sky.
Polly asked, “Aren’t you staying inside?”
An Zhe shook his head as he thought about what Tang Lan had said earlier.
“Sir, did you understand anything?”
Polly stared at him. “Sometimes I think you are more receptive than anyone else. You are special. You seem to be weaker than everyone yet you don’t seem to be afraid of anything.”
An Zhe’s eyelids slightly lowered.
He hummed. “En.”
“However, I haven’t got the final answer.” Polly reached out and fastened the first row of buttons on An Zhe’s coat. “Would you like to hear a simple story?”
“Yes.”
“It was a scientist’s hypothesis a long time ago.” In the cold wind, Polly’s voice was very mild.
“If today, you travel through time and space to a year later. There, you go through time and space back to a year ago, here. Now there will be two indentical you in front of me.”
An Zhe thought about it. “Yes.”
“You know that a unit of matter is an atom and there are electrons in the atom. There are no two identical leaves in the world but all electrons are the same. So how do you tell that the electrons are two different individuals?”
An Zhe replied after thinking about it, “They’re in different positions.”
“But space isn’t a measure of position, nor is time. These two things only make sense to humans in four dimensions. In a higher dimension, time and space are just horizontal and vertical coordinates on a piece of white paper, like this.” Polly took a piece of chalk out of his pocket and made a dot on the railing in front of them. “An electron moves freely through time and space. The left is the past and the right is the future. It crossed time and walked forward a second.”
Then his pen drew a forward slash to the lower right. “After crossing time, it is here.”
“After that, it crossed time again and walked back a second, stopping here.” The chalk drew a line to the bottom left.
Now there were three dots and two lines on the railing. They formed an acute angle with the opening to the left and the two points on the left was a vertical line. Polly drew this vertical line. “Our time is in this second. What do we see at this time?”
An Zhe thought about it for a long time.
In the end, he said, “Two electrons.”
“Yes, we see two identical electrons. They are essentially one but they appear in two places at the same time.” Polly drew countless star-like electrons next to them. “An inaccurate estimate is that our planet has 10 to the power of 51 identical electrons that make up what we can see. How can we prove that this isn’t the same electron that is repeatedly oscillating on the time axis billions of times?”
“Similarly, how can we prove that the existence of the entire universe we see isn’t the result of one or more basic particles vibrating in space and time?”
An Zhe frowned. He couldn’t prove it.
He struggled to digest this sentence with his limited cognition.
“So you and I are the same electron?”
Polly smiled softly and placed his arm around An Zhe’s thin shoulder, like an elder holding an innocent young child.
“This is just one of the countless conjectures that humans made about the nature of the world. It isn’t the truth, nor is it inconsistent with the truth. It is difficult for us to verify. I just gave this example to show that our body, mind and will are smaller than an electron when compared to the entire world.”
An Zhe gazed into the distance. He was just a simple mushroom without the brain of a scientist. He didn’t have rich knowledge or the far-sightedness to think beyond the emotions. He couldn’t understand such a system and only knew the world was really in front of him. He gently stated, “But we are all real.”
The moment he spoke, the expression on his face suddenly blanked out for a second. His brow furrowed and his lungs hurt.
He clutched at the railing, his body trembling violently as he spat out a large mouthful of blood and fell forward. Polly’s arm trembled as he caught An Zhe’s falling body and held An Zhe in his arms.
“Rum!” He shouted in the direction of the lab, his voice anxious.
An Zhe knew that Polly wanted to cure him or to find the cause of his illness, using measuring his temperature, antibiotics, a defibrillator… those things. He sat out more blood and Polly reached out to wipe it with his sleeve. Blood stained the sleeves of the white shirt. An Zhe looked at Polly and smiled reluctantly.
“There is no need.” He grabbed Polly’s arm slowly with his fingers, gasping a few times before whispering, “…I really don’t need it.”
Polly held him tightly. “Hold on again.”
“I…” An Zhe stared into his eyes and it was like seeing the endless sea and sky.
He was actually okay. He wasn’t at his weakest moment yet. At least he could move and his thoughts were clear.
He would die, whether it was today or tomorrow. He could die like this. Polly was the best eldest in the world, treating him like a beloved child. Polly was so good to him… At the end of his life, he could die with such tender love, something that the rest of the people in this era didn’t dare expect. However, if he died like this, Polly wouldn’t accept his death, the fact that Polly couldn’t find the cause and could do nothing. An Zhe knew that for scientists, an unsolvable problem and the unexplained truth were the most profound depression.
He could also die as a monster—he wasn’t afraid of Polly hating him anymore. Polly had given him enough.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” He looked up at Polly. He was relieved making the decision and the pain was nothing. He repeated again, “I’m sorry Polly.”
Polly watched him.
“I…” An Zhe smiled. He coughed a few times and his tears fell down, exactly the same as the temperature of his blood. He gasped hard before managing to tell Polly, “I… lied to you. I’m not a monster infected person, I was a monster originally. I’m not human. I… just ate a human’s genes. I just… look like a human.”
Polly seemed to be stunned for a second. Then the next moment, his grey-blue eyes filled with a gentle sadness. “No matter what you are, hold on, okay?”
An Zhe shook his head.
“I’m not sick. My life span… only so long. Can’t be changed… can’t be saved.”
He finished speaking and Polly hugged him. They watched each other, falling into a sad silence.
A species’ established life expectancy was more irresistible than disease or injury. From the moment of birth, their end was fated. No one could avoid that threshold, the threshold set by God—if God existed.
In the unspeakable silence, the cold wind roared. In the midst of the sound of the wind, Polly spoke to An Zhe.
The moment the voice entered his ears, his heart shook sharply. This sentence was so familiar that he seemed to return to that night three months ago where he faced Lu Feng. The wind that day was also very strong.
Polly Joan asked, “What’s in your hand?”
To this person, An Zhe had nothing to hide. He slowly opened his fingers. A silver badge lay still in his hand, the symbol of a judge’s identity. Polly’s eyes fell on the badge and An Zhe swore he could see some type of long-distant sadness in the grey-blue eyes. Then Polly Joan took something out of the pocket of his jacket and held it in his palm.
An Zhe’s eyes widened slightly. It was also a silver badge. They were almost identical badges.
“You…” An Zhe paused. “You are… a judge?”
“I used to be.” Polly whispered, “I am a defector.”