You can't solve a problem? Well, get down and investigate the present facts and its past history! When you have investigated the problem thoroughly, you will know how to solve it. Conclusions invariably come after investigation, and not before. Only a blockhead cudgels his brains on his own, or together with a group, to "find solution" or "evolve an idea" without making any investigation. It must be stressed that this cannot possibly lead to any effective solution or any good idea. In other words, he is bound to arrive at a wrong solution and a wrong idea.
Oppose Book Worship, by Mao Zedong, May 1930
Low earth orbit, 05/02/2230, 0001 hours
“Who are you?”
Flechette doesn’t know. How do you answer the question that cuts through formality and hedging, the question that gets at the heart of the thing? It’s not a quiz. It’s not a ritual. The answer is simple — the truth.
“My name is Flechette Jaydamn. I am— was, a pilot of the ARC. I’m currently leaving UCF airspace, flying to coordinates that were left to me, with a stolen sixth-generation THRONE mech. I want to defect. I want to give myself and VEN— the mech, over to the PLAA.”
Silence on the other end.
“Please! I’ve come, I’ve come so far, I just—”
“You are the one who killed Ka Kailani.”
“Who?”
“You killed him, and you did not even know his name.”
“Tang? Tanglewire Sidewinder, that’s who you mean? Yes. Yes, I killed him, but— he left me messages. Told me to find you. Told me to tell you I’m ready. He— he said he was still looking for some righteous in Sodom. And he told me to tell you— that I’m ready. To not turn back.”
A pause. Deliberation.
“Understood. We will see what you offer. Join me at the coordinates you presumably have. You will have one opportunity to show me who you are. And, either way, you will hand over custody of the mechanized armor.”
“Y-yes, understood! Thank you!”
“Do not thank me for anything. I have not offered you a gift. Only an opportunity to be tested.”
The VENUS lands on an airstrip in Yan’an, ushered in by ground crew. She’s been given clearance to land. Flechette breathes a sigh of relief. At least that’s one gate through. Rashōmon, as her mother called it.
Flechette braces herself. Strokes the interior of the cockpit one last time. Goodbye, VENUS. Thank you.
The lights go out. The cockpit opens without a single command or switch flipped. As she disembarks the VENUS, a detachment of PLAA soldiers comes to meet her, places her in handcuffs. Says something to her, presumably in Mandarin.
“I’m— I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“You will come with us. Your tenure here is provisional. If you do anything to indicate you are a threat, we have orders to shoot to kill. Is that understood.”
“Yes! Yes, sir.”
At this, multiple soldiers rush towards her, to be held back by the clear leader of the detachment.
“You are new here. You do not understand. Your nation clings to archaic and abominable institutions. We do not do that here. You will refer to nobody as ‘sir.’ You may one day earn the right to refer to others as ‘comrade.’ That is yet to be proven.”
Flechette nods, bewildered. Already, the world is so different.
“Come with me. My name is Ka Zhengming. You contacted me aboard your vessel.” Vessel.
“Yes! Yes. Ka Zhengming. It’s good to meet you.”
“Just Zhengming for now.”
“—Okay, Zhengming.”
The two march in silence for a bit, Flechette lagging behind, aching from hours in the cockpit. Zhengming is crisp, professional, precise. Somehow, they remind her of Seraph.
The pair arrive at an elevator.
“You will enter first. This is not a request.”
“Okay.”
The elevator descends underground — 10, 20, 30 stories.
“Where are we going?”
“You will understand.”
Flechette has lost count of the floors. They are deep, deep underground. The elevator door opens. And the pair walk out into a massive, bustling city. Carved out of the bedrock. So cavernous that wisps of mist float around the ceiling. She stares up, in wonder. The world…
Zhengming speaks.
“These cities were developed from a project initially built by Ka Zhou Enlai. The Underground Great Wall of China, your people would call it. They used to store intercontinental ballistic missiles, during the nuclear era. They were expanded in the mid-2040s, to accommodate the People.”
“If you are accepted here, this is where you will be.”
Flechette looks back at Zhengming. Their face is illegible to her. She has seen that expression before, exactly once.
“Are you a proprioceptopath?”
The subtlest quirk of their lip.
“I am impressed. Kailani was not as perceptive.”
Zhengming walks the pair over to a door into a massive building, brutalist, a single perfect rectangular prism of stone, in the center of the city.
“Perhaps you will be of use to the People.”
Zhengming walks Flechette down bustling halls. As they pass, people note the insignia on Flechette’s uniform, and scowl. A few jeer in Mandarin. Then they notice who is walking her, and they salute them.
Flechette and Zhengming arrive at a room, with a broad control panel, and a massive windowscreen. Lining the walls are portraits of people from all over the PRA. Names. A memorial. Not the interrogation room she expected. Zhengming locks the door.
They begin the questioning.
“What do you want.”
“I—” Flechette steels herself, calms her voice.
“I want to join the PLAA. I want to fight for the people.”
“Interesting. Kailani did not speak of the People when he arrived. You are different.”
“Tang — Kailani — he… He was a good teacher.”
“He was a good student.” Flechette’s eyes widen. Zhengming continues, moving right along.
“What will you offer us.”
“The BIRTH OF VENUS, and myself as the pilot.”
“Ha! Why would we let you pilot a stolen, enemy warship, powered by that abominable thing, on our frontline? Try again.” This is the first time Zhengming has betrayed any kind of real hostility. Flechette’s blood runs cold.
“Because… I’m different. I have a bond with this machine. My highest synchronization amplitude was 500%. On my way here.”
“500%.”
“Yes.”
“Five hundred percent.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Fine. At the very least, you will be a valuable specimen for study. You are granted provisional tenure here, so long as we have use for you.”
“Thank you!”
“Mmm. But while you are here, you will learn. You will begin to understand what you have left, before you can find a place where you arrived.”
Zhengming walks over to the windowscreen. Flicks it on.
Through it, Flechette can see a massive reactor of some kind.
“What is—”
“This was a research site, at one time. This is the only machine of its kind in the entire PRA. It is not enough that your Egregore Engine was evil. It worked. That is what mattered. We needed to understand it, so we could build an alternative. A different machine.”
“That— That’s an Egregore Reactor?” It’s huge.
“Yes. It is over one hundred and fifty years old. It is rudimentary. It is no longer used. The volunteers who offered themselves for the research have been honored. You see them around you.”
“This is the cost that you must understand. Your people’s technology exacted a price from humanity. It continues exacting that price. Humanity needed an alternative. We have developed upon the technology of your parapsychological energetics.”
The soldier pauses, looks out over the dead engine.
“You will understand.”
“What does it—” Flechette begins to ask.
But Zhengming is already walking away. They leave the room. The guards on the other side lock the door.
Flechette waits.