Chapter 45 - "Is this What God wanted to Show us?"
The aurora suddenly flashed.
"Crash."
The sound of glass flying everywhere tore open the silent night. An Zhe turned to look at the laboratory.
Pauli also looked at the window in that direction. "Rum?"
Mist clung to the window glass, blurring everything inside so that all that was visible was a faint human silhouette.
"Sir!" Rum's voice was rarely so excited. He smacked the window with a hand, making banging noises. After opening the window lock, his voice became clear as well, but it carried a tremor. "The screen, the screen..."
Pauli shot a sudden look into the room. Just as before, the messy lines were dancing on the big screen.
But Rum said, "Just now—"
An Zhe coughed a few times, then said, "I'm all right."
After confirming that he was still clearheaded, Pauli strode toward the laboratory. An Zhe surreptitiously swallowed a mouthful of blood and followed. His body was in a strange state, weakened and in pain to the breaking point, but it was precisely because he'd reached those limits that it seemed like he was now completely relaxed.
In the laboratory, Rum had broken a glass bottle containing antibiotic granules. Glittering shards of glass lay all over the ground, but nobody thought to sweep it up.
Pauli came over to the big screen, and as the lines fluctuated like a ball of wriggling worms, he asked, "What is it?"
Rum's lips opened and closed. "It was clear... Just now, it was clear."
It was difficult for An Zhe to describe Pauli's expression in that moment, for it was like all sorts of excessively fierce emotions had mixed together but changed into blankness instead. Pauli's hands trembled, and he placed his right hand on the instrument's operating lever. "Are you certain?"
The expression in Rum's eyes seemed hesitant, or perhaps he was striving to remember—Pauli stared hard at him, and three second later, he said, "I'm certain."
Pauli Jones looked at the screen, An Zhe standing behind him. The research facility humans had used to study the artificial magnetic poles during the period when technology was at its peak—even if much of its equipment had been lost due to many years of neglect, it was still a functioning physics laboratory. Within the breathless silence, Pauli pulled the operating lever and adjusted the fluctuating lines backward.
He asked, "Around what time frame?"
Rum said, "Just now."
He went silent for a while, weighed his words, and said,
"It was just the blink of an eye."
Pauli took a deep breath, adjusted the instrument's recording to three minutes ago, and began playing it back frame by frame on the small screen.
Those dancing and wriggling black lines varied in appearance. Some formed curves, while others were starlike scattered black dots. They tangled together in that manner, just like destiny. In every frame, their shapes changed, but these changes were irregular. After staying in the laboratory for almost half a month, An Zhe knew that what the Simpson cage captured was the interaction frequency between elementary particles—Pauli always used "frequency" to describe it.
But the complexity and disorderliness of this frequency were beyond the scope of what humankind's existing scientific knowledge could handle. Pauli strove to find a way to receive and process them so that they'd clear up, just like a person hearing a piece of music and trying to write a score for it or perhaps continuously adjusting the radio frequency in anticipation of receiving a clear signal. But for a long time, there had not been the slightest progress in this work. Facing those disorderly lines, Pauli once said that he was like a mortal wishing to hear God's decrees yet also like an ant trying to decipher human language.
As An Zhe looked at the still-pulsing big screen, he occasionally turned his worried gaze toward Pauli, and he discovered that Rum was doing likewise. In this drawn-out experiment, there had already been too many failures. If it wasn't possible to replicate the moment of clarity Rum spoke of, he would rather that Pauli had never received the information in the first place.
One frame, followed by another frame. The fire in the fireplace burned with vigor, making the "crackle-pop" sounds of firewood splitting apart from time to time. In the silent laboratory, the sound was particularly dramatic.
A ghostly image suddenly leaped out onto the screen.
Even An Zhe could not help but hold his breath.
On the dark gray background, all the lines suddenly disappeared—then what appeared were countless faint white dots that were packed together, translucent, and gradually fading into the background. It was difficult to describe what sort of shape it was with human language.
There seemed to be no pattern to them at all, gathering in certain parts and dispersing in others. There were no white dots scattered in the center of the diagram, but a circle like a volcanic crater had formed around it, and the irregular dark gray circle was reminiscent of a sinister and menacing eye. It was like—like humans in the civilized age had taken a picture of an incomparably grand nebula and then converted it into lifeless grayscale.
"I-it's this one," Rum said. "Did the machine break?"
"No..." Pauli slowly shook his head. Perhaps because his mood was excessively tense, his pupils were slightly dilated. "Such a pattern wouldn't appear for no reason.
Something must have happened."
When Tang Lan pushed open the laboratory door, there were faint shadows under his eyes. He was clearly somewhat listless.
"Sir," he said. "Did you need something from me?"
Pauli said, "Were you asleep? I'm very sorry to have woken you."
Tang Lan shook his head. "I was already awake when Rum shouted for me."
Pauli asked, "Were you not sleeping well?"
"I was just thinking of coming to find you," Tang Lan said. "The wave suddenly amplified—for a second, I felt a sharp spike, and then I woke up."
Pauli asked, "What about now?"
"It's okay now."
Pauli didn't speak for a long time, not until Tang Lan asked, "What's wrong, sir?"
"There's nothing wrong with our methods. Right when you felt the wave's amplification, an abnormality occurred in the images captured by the Simpson cage as well." Pauli's expression was grave.
Tang Lan frowned. "Isn't this good news?"
"No." Pauli said. "I thought of a problem."
In the laboratory, nobody made a sound save for Pauli. His gaze turned from the small screen that displayed the captured image to the big screen where the complex lines surged. "We wanted to capture the wave's frequency and analyze the cause of the distortion, but what if what it's currently showing is the contest between the earth'sartificial magnetic field and the unknown wave coming from the universe?"
"I understand what you mean." Tang Lan jerked his head up. "The magnetic field can resist the wave, but what the Simpson cage received at the same time was both of their frequencies. They're interfering with each other."
"Yes." Pauli said. "I've always been thinking, if the magnetic field could completely resist the wave, why would genetic infection still occur here on the earth? If they've always been in a deadlock, it would make sense. The wave has always affected the earth, but the magnetic field was also putting up resistance, so we hadn't yet reached the point where matter would be utterly distorted. The frequencies of the two have always been tangled together."
"If that's the case..." Tang Lan furrowed his brows. "Sir, if you wish to analyze the wave with the Simpson cage, you'd have to wait for the wave to triumph over the magnetic field or for the artificial magnetic poles to no longer work."
"That's right," Pauli said slowly.
"But as soon as the wave gains the upper hand, matter will distort, and the Simpson cage's equipment will be affected as well."
"No," Pauli said. "There is a way."
Everyone looked at Pauli, not saying a word. In the quiet laboratory, Pauli continued, "The Highland Research Institute has multiple portable independent magnetic poles that can generate small magnetic fields with limited ranges, which is the fruit of past research. It was only because of those that we were able to survive the calamitous failure of the artificial magnetic poles a month prior."
"Supposing the artificial magnetic pole covering the earth disappears... We'll adjust the positions of the independent magnetic poles to protect the Simpson cage's core equipment and simultaneously expose the receiving area to the maximum extent—" Pauli narrowed his gray blue eyes slightly as he looked at the raging sea of flames downstairs.
Tang Lan said, "Then we can analyze the pure wave frequency."
"That's right, that's right..." Pauli took a deep breath. The light of hope had just lit up in his eyes, but then it was promptly extinguished. "However—"
He stopped himself before he finished speaking, and theroom suddenly quieted. Nobody made a sound.
At last, Tang Lan asked, "Can the wave only be seen... after distortion triumphs over the artificial magnetic field?"
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He looked at the night sky outside, his voice bitter.
Pauli sat down slowly in front of the computer. Facing the communication channel linked to the base, he did not move for a long while.
"Only at our dying moment can we glimpse the truth," he muttered. "Is this what God wanted to show us?"
An Zhe stood in a corner as he quietly watched everything happen.
Pauli's conjecture was well founded. Supposing that the strange wave was all that remained in this world, the instrument may show it in its entirety.
In fact, this was feasible. Pauli was now facing the communication channel, and perhaps he was mulling over his words. So long as either the Northern Base or the
Underground City base agreed to shut down their artificial magnetic pole, the truth would be revealed to them.
But what about afterward? What would happen to the two bases after the loss of the magnetic field? The calamity from one month prior directly reduced the Northern Base's surviving population to eight thousand.
He couldn't imagine the kind of struggle Pauli was now facing. This kind scientist had left the base precisely because he couldn't bear to watch the minority sacrificing themselves for the majority.
But the world seemed to be just like this. It made those who sought to survive die, made those who were kind commit massacres, and made those who sought the truth fall into despair instead.
Facing the screen, Pauli slowly closed his eyes.
Tang Lan said, "Allow me."
"No." Pauli said. "We cannot make such an unreasonable request."
"The bases have established emergency systems. Within a short span of time, so long as they have made preparations, they will be able to survive," Tang Lan said.
"And if the apparatus gets damaged because of distortion in the brief span that the artificial magnetic pole is shut down for, what then? In the winter, once the protection of the magnetic field is lost, the environment will be even worse than in the summer," Pauli said. "I can use the independent magnetic poles to simulate a reverse force field and cancel out the artificial magnetic field within the scope of the Simpson cage to create a non-magnetized space."
"I don't understand your expert knowledge," Tang Lan said, "but the artificial magnetic field itself is a very complex frequency, so it must be very difficult."
"Perhaps it will be much simpler compared to the work from before,"
Tang Lan said, "but the fastest way is to have the bases briefly shut down the magnetic poles."
"You can't do this."
"I..." Tang Lan looked at Pauli. "I know your research is correct. You've wished to investigate this calamity for decades already. So long as you can see the wave, you'll definitely be able to find a way to deal with it. You've always been excessively kind."
"Furthermore, we're only making a request. They may not agree to it. The Northern Base only believes in human interests, and we are xenogenics. Every year, they go so far as to dispatch troops to try to eliminate us." He put his hand on the keyboard and murmured, "This is my individual action. All... all the consequences have nothing to do with you, sir."
Pauli only watched him as though he were watching a willful child.
Pale fingertips rested on the keyboard.
One second, two seconds.
Hovering fingertips silently rested in the air above the keyboard.
Three seconds, four seconds.
He suddenly released a trembling breath.
"I'm sorry." His trembling fingers dropped, leaving a string of nonsense in the input field. As though he were facing something frightful, he took two steps back, and the rims of his eyes were red as he said, "I can't do it."
As though he had anticipated such a result long in advance, Pauli shook his head gently. "Silly child."
Tang Lan's eyes reddened.
An Zhe watched all of the proceedings from near the fireplace. The choices humans faced were often difficult, and sometimes their inner suffering would exceed their physical pain. What Pauli said earlier was correct: kindness was humankind's most notable weakness. Under the ruthless world's weight, Tang Lan would suffer, and Pauli would suffer a hundredfold. Thus, he looked at Pauli for a long time, waiting for him to make a choice amidst his inner suffering. Destiny was so fickle that even a hundred years after he was relieved of his position as Arbiter, he still had to face such a difficult choice.
It was right during this silent deadlock that the aurora flashed one more time.
Rum looked reflexively at the big screen, and An Zhe followed suit. The ghostly image appeared on the screen again, but for longer this time, with a full three seconds passing before it disappeared. The strange scatter plot was branded onto An Zhe's retinas.
At the same time, Tang Lan pressed a hand against his temple.
"I heard it again," he said.
What did it mean?
Even An Zhe knew that this meant the unknown wave coming from the universe had suddenly strengthened. As it turned out, it was not gradually advancing as the humans had predicted; it was completely capable of advancing by leaps and bounds.
After five seconds of silence, the aurora violently flashed again, like the sudden contraction of some massive thing's heart, and the entire world fell into complete darkness.
On the screen, densely concentrated specks of light were everywhere.
"It's almost here," Tang Lan said, his voice hoarse. He closed his eyes and lifted his hand, burying his face in his palm.
"It's almost here. I heard it. It'll exceed the magnetic field's strength very soon. Sir, you don't need to feel torn any longer. The distortion has arrived, and it can't be stopped."
"What... what..." He hung his head. "What... did we do everything for?"
With those words, he started to laugh, and the laughter was—was despairing. There was probably blood in his throat, An Zhe thought.
Just now, they were still being tortured by the question of whether they were going to ask the bases to shut down the magnetic poles, still resenting this cruel world and cruel destiny that insisted on opposing them, and still drifting within their inner suffering—they thought that they still had the room to choose. But in the very next moment, they became aware of how ridiculous their struggles and resentments were. It had been an utterly purposeless struggle—of course, all of humankind's purposes were purposeless.
The world cared about nothing. It was neither cruel nor callous, only uncaring, indifferent. It didn't care about their happiness, and of course it didn't care about their suffering.
It seemed to only be undergoing a natural change, only progressing little by little. Of course it had no inclination to allow humankind to know the true reason. There was no need. The only ones who truly persisted in figuring out the root cause were humans themselves.
Humankind would be exterminated, all living creatures would die, and the earth would collapse.
But it didn't care.
An Zhe stared blankly at the sky outside.
After intermittent flashes, the aurora up above began to quiver madly. The green light shattered with terrifying speed into dazzling meteors that flew in every direction, and the magnificent meteor shower burned out, its remnants streaking through the pitch-black night sky.
"Beep—" In the laboratory, the machine emitted a drawn-out noise. An Zhe jerked his head up and spotted a flurry of snowflakes on the big screen.
Pauli gripped the chair's armrest with his right hand, and his age was apparent in his hoarse voice as he said, "Start up the independent magnetic poles—"
His voice was accompanied by a bone-chilling chorus of howls, none of which could be easily described with onomatopoeias from any human language. Vibrating together, they pierced eardrums. Outside the windows, down the mountain, in the Abyss—the monsters let out howls that transcended common sense.
"Flap—"
The tremendous sound of flapping wings came from the jungle, as though thousands of birds had taken flight.
They had been lurking in the Abyss for a long time, testing each other and refusing to budge.
But now that the magnetic field was finally on the verge of collapse, these horrific monsters had suddenly begun to stir.
Why?
He didn't know.
The first shadow flew through the sky above the Highland Research Institute.
Pauli went to the Simpson cage's console.
"Sir," Tang Lan murmured. "Do we still have any time left?"
Pauli said, "We don't."
"Then do you still want to continue?"
A brief silence.
"Humankind's aspirations are like the moon in the water," he dazedly said all of a sudden. "It looks like it's within reach, but in fact, it breaks as soon as we touch the water's surface."
"But when we thought that the broken moon also had value and reached out to scoop it up, we discovered that there was only water in our hands. What's even more absurd is that in less than half a minute, even the water had flowed away through our fingers."
He looked at the numerous specks of light as though he were looking at a remote dream. "But supposing I was given a chance, allowing me to still stand by the water, would I still be willing to go scoop it up?"
An Zhe asked a little hesitantly, "Would you still be willing?"
Pauli Jones's eyes were reddened, his gaze shaky, and his voice choked with sobs. In the end, he closed his eyes. "I would."
Tang Lan took out a black walkie-talkie from his pocket.
He looked at everything before him, then dropped his dull gaze and said flatly, "Prepare to defend."