Ken Liu - Broken Stars

Suddenly, the constellation fell into the sea. As the sea roiled with unaccustomed brilliance, a silvery curved blade leapt out of the water. Weaving and dodging, slashing and slicing, the blade cut through moonbeams and swam for the enchanted beanstalk.

Giana!

If… if only we could pierce the crystal sky and go visit the stars….

The mad child was going to climb up the beanstalk to the giant’s castle. But… if the crystal sky was truly an ice cover intended to keep us from the secrets of heaven, how could Giana reach the stars? Striving up the raging torrents rising from the heart of the Thumb Sea, Giana’s nimble figure could be glimpsed from time to time. Would the fountain carry her miles and miles up? Would she see what was above the clouds? Would she break through the crystal sky and find the stars?

I can’t stop thinking about them. A voice is always in my head, telling me, Hey Giana, why not go visit the stars?

Finally, the silvery blade cut through the silky moonlight and, propelled by the surging currents, reached the top of the fountain. Innumerable dolphins—more than I had ever seen in Shallow Bay—poked their heads out of the sea, gazing at the top of the fountain. Their high-pitched chatter was like the drip-drip-drip from stalactites.

Giana! Giana! You’re a credit to all dolphinkind!

The silver figure drifted into the sky like the millions of scattering droplets. It floated above the purple mist. Soon, it disappeared beyond the clouds.

A long moment hung suspended, passing and not passing.

The sky brightened abruptly. A deafening noise crashed from the top of the fountain. Countless cracks zigzagged from the center of the dark blue welkin. Wind and stars tumbled through the opening and fell into the sea. The dome continued to crack open, as if the beanstalk was pushing, growing, forcing its way deeper beyond the barrier. My head rang from the thunderous noise, and my eyes were filled with fantastic visions that eventually melded into a single blinding brightness.

The crystal sky fell.

A moment later, the moon and stars revealed their true nature.

I had never imagined the moon would be full of shadows on its unblemished face. I had never imagined the stars… to be so bright.

And the mystery, the chaotic center, also revealed its truth—

It was a planet.

Our world had always been right next to another: two apples in a cluster. Though it loomed so close to us, we had never been aware of its presence. The shadow it cast hid the heart of the Milky Way, and its own true shape had been obscured by the crystal sky.

It was Giana who revealed the secret. The spot where the gravities of the two planets balanced each other was also the top of the fountain. There, droplets of water, weightless, scattered in every direction. The arrival of Giana gave weight again to this silent terminus of the world—she had been caught by the gravity of the other planet…. And so, the crystal sky cracked as a bug tried to climb out of the apple, broke apart as Giana fell toward a new ocean.

But… Giana… I recalled the graveyard of ships she had once described to me. The whirlpools had torn apart the sails and spars, broken the decks and oars…. Giana’s fall had been powerful enough to shatter the crystal sky. Where was she now?

Under the dim, reddish glow of the moon, all the dolphins gazed up silently.

“There! That’s the constellation Delphinus!” Giana used to tell me all the time.

All the stars were falling toward the sea. They glowed for a while in the water before fading. Far away, new stars were rising… one… another one… so many of them… and soon, every watching dolphin recognized the silvery pattern.

Giana, a credit to all dolphinkind, had smashed the barrier that had blinded us all from the truth and leapt into heaven. Just like Jack climbing up the beanstalk to the giant’s castle; just like a bug climbing up the stem to stare at the noonday sun.

She had become one with the eternal stars.

This was the story of Delphinus.

There are several Greek myths about Delphinus. The tale about Arion is just one of them.

Here, I tell a story about Delphinus using the language of science fiction. It was published in Science Fiction World magazine in a section known as the “gray area.” It’s hard to say if stories published there meet the definition of science fiction.

Thanks to David Brin for inspiring me with his story “The Crystal Spheres.”

After graduating from Peking University, Baoshu (a pen name that should be treated as an indivisible unit) obtained a master’s degree in philosophy from KU Leuven, Belgium. He has lived in the US and Europe. Working as a freelance writer in China, he has published four novels and over thirty novellas, novelettes, and short stories since 2010.

His best-known works include The Redemption of Time (a sequel of sorts to Liu Cixin’s “Three-Body” books) and Ruins of Time (winner of the 2014 Xingyun Award for Best Novel). Perhaps as a result of his background in philosophy, many of his stories play with time in various ways: compressing it, stretching it, slicing it into thin slices and piecing them back together in a different order, questioning its nature, altering its essence, transforming it into something alien but still recognizable.

In translation, his fiction may be found in F&SF and Clarkesworld , among other places.

“What Has Passed Shall in Kinder Light Appear” is also a story about time. Although its first formal publication was through an English translation, it is, in some ways, the most Chinese story in this entire volume: the more one knows about the history of the People’s Republic, the more the story’s meaning comes into focus.

A special note of thanks goes to my friend Anatoly Belilovsky, who provided the translation of Pushkin’s poem quoted in this story.

My parents named me Xie Baosheng, hoping I would live a life full of precious memories. I was born on the day the world was supposed to end.

Mom and Dad told me how strange flashing lights appeared in the sky all over the globe, accompanied by thunder and lightning, as though the heavens had turned into a terrifying battlefield. Scientists could not agree on an explanation: some said extraterrestrials had arrived; some suggested the Earth was passing through the galactic plane; still others claimed that the universe was starting to collapse. The apocalyptic atmosphere drove many into church pews while the rest shivered in their beds.

In the end, nothing happened. As soon as the clock struck midnight, the world returned to normality. The crowds, teary-eyed, embraced each other and kissed, thankful for God’s gift. Many petitioned for that day to be declared the world’s new birthday as a reminder for humanity to live more honestly and purely, and to treasure our existence.

The grateful mood didn’t last long, and people pretty much went on living as before. The Arab Spring happened, followed by the global financial crisis. Life had to go on, and we needed to resolve troubles both big and small. Everyone was so busy that the awkward joke about the end of the world never came up again. Of course, I had no memory of any of this: I was born on that day. I had no impressions of the next few years, either.

My earliest memory was of the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics. I was only four then, but nonetheless caught up in the excitement all around me.

Mom and Dad told me, China is going to host the Olympics!