Лю Цысинь - Ball Lightning

“Where are they from?” Lin Yun asked.

“The terrorists? The Garden of Eden.”

I knew about that international terrorist organization. Even an utterly benign idea could be dangerous if taken to an extreme, and the Garden of Eden was a classic example. It had originated as a group of technological escapists who had established an experimental micro-society on an island in the Pacific Ocean in an attempt to break free from modern technology and return to nature. Like many similar organizations throughout the world, it was closed off in the beginning, a community with no aggressive tendencies at all. But as time passed in seclusion, the mentality of these isolationists turned radical, and their flight from technology turned into a hatred of it, their removal from science into an opposition to it. Some extreme diehards left the island they called the Garden of Eden and, with a mission to obliterate all of the world’s modern technology and bring it back to nature, began engaging in terrorist activities. Unlike other stripes of terrorists, the Garden of Eden attacked targets that were bewildering to the public: they blew up the European Synchrotron, burned down the two largest genetics labs in North America, destroyed a large neutrino detection tank deep within a mine in Canada, and even assassinated three Nobel Physics laureates. The group found repeated success at research facilities where scientists were minimally defended, but this was its first attack on a nuclear reactor.

“What measures have you taken?” Lin Yun asked.

“None. We’ve set up an observational perimeter at a distance, but we haven’t dared approach. They’ve put explosives on the reactor and can blow them up at any time.”

“As far as I’m aware, these large nuclear reactors have a very thick and sturdy shell. Several meters of reinforced cement. How much explosive material could they have brought in?”

“Not much. They only took in a small vial of red pills.”

The colonel’s words sent a chill through Lin Yun and me. Garden of Eden may have hated technology, but they would use any means necessary to achieve their goals. It was, in fact, the world’s most technologically sophisticated terrorist organization, and a significant number of its members were top-flight scientists. The red pills were their own creation, enriched uranium, clad in some nanomaterial. Under sufficient impact force, fission detonation was possible without the need to achieve supercritical mass by other means of compression. Their typical method was to weld the muzzle of a large-bore gun shut, place several red pills inside it, and chamber a flattened-down bullet. When the gun was fired, the bullet would strike the red pills, triggering a nuclear explosion. When the Garden of Eden used this gadget to successfully break the world’s largest synchrotron, which was several kilometers underground, into three segments, it threw the world into terror overnight.

Before the colonel led us into the room, he gave us a warning: “Be careful what you say in there. We have set up bidirectional communication.”

After entering, we saw several military and police officers staring at a large screen displaying a surprising scene. For a moment I thought there must be some mistake, for we were watching a teacher leading a class for a group of students. Behind her was a wide control panel with lots of display screens and flashing instruments, probably one of the reactor’s control rooms. It was the teacher who caught my attention. She was in her thirties, plainly dressed, with a gaunt face that made the delicate glasses dangling from a gold chain around her neck look particularly large. A keen intelligence showed in her eyes. Her voice was soft and gentle, and it soothed some of my fear and anxiety to listen to it. My heart immediately filled with respect for the teacher, who had taken her students to visit a nuclear plant and maintained composure in the face of danger, and now was soothing them with a laudable sense of duty.

“She’s the head of the Asian branch of Garden of Eden and is the primary architect and director of this act of terrorism. In North America last March, she assassinated two Nobel laureates in one day and escaped capture. She’s the third most wanted Garden of Eden fugitive in the world,” the colonel whispered to us, pointing at the teacher on the screen.

I lost all grip on the world around me, like I’d been bashed in the head. I twisted around to look at Lin Yun, who didn’t seem particularly surprised. Looking back at the screen, I noticed something unusual: the children were crowded close together and were looking fearfully at the teacher, as if she were a monster who’d popped up out of nowhere. I soon discovered the reason for their fear: a boy was lying on the ground, the top of his skull shattered. His eyes, wide open, stared across the floor with a bemused expression at the abstract painting formed of brains and blood. The teacher’s bloody footprints were on the ground, too, and her right sleeve was spattered with blood. The gun she had used to shoot the kid in the head was lying on the control station behind her.

“Now, children, my dear children. You have been very good in class, and it’s time for a new stage. I’ll ask a question: What are the basic building blocks of matter?” The teacher continued her lesson, her voice still soft and gentle, but I felt like a cold, supple snake had wrapped itself around my throat. The children must have been feeling the same thing, only ten times worse.

When no one responded, the teacher said, “You. You answer,” pointing at a girl. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to be afraid of if you’re wrong,” she said gently, a kind smile on her face.

“A… atoms,” the girl said, in a trembling voice.

“Very good. See: you’re wrong, but it doesn’t matter. Now I’ll tell you the correct answer. The basic building blocks of matter are—” She emphasized each word with a stroke of her hand. “Metal. Wood. Water. Fire. Earth. Good. Now repeat that ten times. Metal, wood, water, fire, earth.”

The children recited the elements ten times.

“Very good, children. That’s right. The world has been made complicated by science, and we’re going to make it simple again. Life has been raped by technology, and we’re going to make it pure again! Have you ever seen an atom? How do they have anything to do with us? Don’t let those scientists trick you. They are the filthiest, most foolish people in the world…. Now, please wait a moment. I’ve got to finish this lesson before negotiations can continue. I can’t let the children get behind in their lessons.” The last bit was evidently directed at us.

She must have had a display there that allowed her to see us, since she glanced in a different direction when she spoke to us. Then something caught her attention.

“Oh? A woman? Finally you’ve got a woman there. How wonderful!” she said, clearly referring to Lin Yun. Then she clasped her hands together in an expression of sincere surprise.

Lin Yun nodded at the teacher, an icy smile on her face. I realized I felt a certain dependence on Lin Yun now. I knew that the teacher’s ruthlessness wouldn’t frighten her, since she was similarly ruthless, and had the emotional power to combat the teacher. I lacked that power, and the teacher had casually flattened my spirit.

“We have a common language,” the teacher said with a smile, as if talking to a close friend. “Women are intrinsically opposed to technology, not like nauseatingly robotic men.”

“I’m not opposed to technology. I am an engineer,” Lin Yun said evenly.

“I was too, once. But that doesn’t prevent us from seeking out a new life. Your major’s emblem is very pretty. It’s a remnant of ancient armor, that, like humanity, has been so eroded by technology that there’s only a smidgen left. We ought to treasure it.”