Sheng Keyi - Death Fugue

More retching sounds came from Rania and she flushed Mengliu’s words down with the fresh vomit. When she had finished, he had to accompany her to the hospital for a checkup, filling in forms and waiting for the government’s birth permit. Rania stuffed her mouth with cranberries and started reading Rousseau’s Emile. She chatted about the child’s name and education. As soon as she placed her hand on her abdomen, Mengliu became red-faced and breathless, as if she were clenching his heart.

At night he grew inexplicably anxious. He was unable to concentrate on a single thought without the pockets of blankness appearing in his mind. He walked on the darkened streets. The moonlight flowed around him, and where the bushes grew he could hear rustling sounds. Experience told him that a couple must be involved in illicit sexual relations, secretly enjoying the freedom of sex as they did the freedom of the moonlight. The moistened bushes were dishevelled, and the trees stout and carnal, creating an indulgent atmosphere.

The moon painted the streets and houses in a poetic mist, but one which was also rational and calm. Getting a taste for this impersonal kind of romance, he found himself close to a demonic blue light that rotated and flickered. He chased after it, and the beam of light seemed to play a game with him, stubbornly keeping at a certain distance. Without realising it, he had walked into the forest, and the blue light rotated three times in quick succession and charged at his face. His head exploded into a white cloud, and he lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he was seated in a Chinese official’s chair, surrounded by the familiar machine room. He immediately stood up and shouted, ‘Hey! Listen to me. I’m just an ordinary guy, not one of those big brains with superior intelligence. I’m the kind of scum who’d take the taxpayer’s money and do shoddy work. You should be out looking for the high-level people. They have a sense of justice, conscience, ideals, patriotism. They are so heated up with enthusiasm their blood burns. Frankly, their excellent genes are much more suitable for your plans. I can give you a list. Men, women, fat, thin, educated, politically motivated — I know them all. I can take you to Dayang. I know every building on every street. The people there trust the state, they trust ideals, and they trust other people. I think it is safe to say they could quite easily be taken away.’

‘Mr Yuan, you really shouldn’t say anything.’ It was the robotic voice again, languid, full of disdain and mockery. ‘You are the one our machine searched out, the man with the highest quality of genes. Of course, you can be suspicious of anyone, but you have to trust science, and you have to trust the machine.’

Mengliu assumed the robot would give him the periscope, as it had done before. He really wanted to have a better look at the woman with green hair. But apparently the robot did not plan to do so. ‘That can’t be right,’ he replied. ‘There must be a problem with the machine. Someone like me is just rubbish, not even worth mentioning.’

‘Ha! Mr Yuan, you were born a Swanese. Humble, low-key, with the virtue of not being proud of your special talent. You can win a much better reputation and status…’

‘I don’t need it. You can’t possibly know what it is people need!’ Mengliu shouted, his voice lingering.

‘Don’t worry about that. I know exactly what the people of Swan Valley need. We won’t be tarnished by the modern pleasures of life, the decay, the erosion of principle, the moral turpitude, the spiritual emptiness…human life is limited. We won’t create waste or let crises brew. Our practice is to allow each individual to be innately elite, genetically so. We must improve the quality of the human race.’

‘That’s just subjective fantasy. Winston Churchill said that Western society has two things that were least flawed. One is democracy and the other is a market economy. From what I have seen, Swan Valley has two things that are most flawed.’

‘Oh? May I ask which two?’

‘Abstinence and politically arranged marriages. Since ancient times, humans have seasoned food with spices to satisfy their taste, used the fragrance of flowers and grass to cultivate their sense of smell, and created art to satisfy our eye for beauty — but you want to put restrictions on all human feelings and imprison people in their bodies. And as for excellent genes…’

‘Mr Yuan, you greatly underestimate an elite race’s tenacity of will. Immorality caused the death of nations even in ancient times. Lowly personal desires only exist in vulgar people. The citizens of Swan Valley are broad-minded, they hold manners and virtues in high esteem and focus on noble spiritual pursuits, so how…’ The robot was talking slowly.

‘This is a perverted illusion of peace. I know that not long ago there was a man who went missing. And a girl committed suicide — she was forced to death by what you think of as nobility, but others call insanity. You lied and said the man lost his mind and fell into the river and was eaten by squid. The girl who committed suicide was just following her own beliefs…’

‘For maintaining the normal social order and institutional dignity, death is the most common deterrent.’

‘That is a fallacy. It is disregard for human life,’ Mengliu interrupted.

‘Wrong. Your mind is overgrown with weeds. You need to cleanse your brain, clear away anything that hinders the operation of the machine. But then again, you are doing a good job with the forums. Evaluating the psychological state of the people, and reporting on their thoughts — very impressive. You have ambition, and you know how to use power to serve the people. This is an excellent quality.’ The robot took a deep breath. ‘The direction of all human activity, whether political, economic or cultural, is not something that can be decided by individual intuition or feeling. A machine is selfless, it pays attention to data…Oh by the way, let me congratulate you. You are going to be a father. The government will send a professional to take care of the expecting mother. The food has been arranged scientifically to ensure good nutrition.’

Mengliu wasn’t listening to the robot. He noticed the fluorescent blink and alternating colours on the machine nearest to him. There were oddly shaped controls that made clicking sounds. He reached out and pressed a purple switch with his finger. The lights faltered in a drunken chaos. He began moving both hands frantically over the machine, as if playing an instrument. All he could see was a crackling burst of fiery light, as all the machines began to shake, and then to roar like frightened, crazed beasts. Their parts jostled, and there was a great confusion of noise, as if he were in a huge workshop. The robot’s angry voice mixed with the cacophony. ‘Ruined! You’ve broken the machines! You’ve dared to destroy the machines, and you will be hanged, fed to the squid…The machines are failing. The information is confused! The data is incorrect…You’ve acted in ignorant recklessness. It will lead to numerous miscarriages of justice.’

The temperature in the room had suddenly increased. Sure enough, the machine in front of him was manically producing statistics, filtering data, creating analogues and clicking away like a typewriter. The data printed out continuously, faster than a newspaper press. It piled up, full of strange hieroglyphics. Mengliu found himself blocked in. He climbed over the stack of paper, intending to flee, when he saw a sheet headed ‘A Comprehensive Report on the Swan Valley Mind, and Spirit Data Chart Statistics’. Printed in red were the names of people with mental defects and other diseases. His name was there, like a centipede, bloated with blood, crimson and plump, wriggling its numerous feet. It suddenly turned into a huge monster, its mouth open to bite him. Mengliu went limp and fell to the ground.