When he finished, Father was angry.
“I taught you better, Bingwen. I taught you to respect your elders.”
“Respect?” said Bingwen. Why was Father angry? He hadn’t even told them about Ms. Yí.
“Are you smarter than the government now?” Father said, his voice rising. “Smarter than the military?”
“Of course not, Father.”
“Then why do you profess to be? Don’t you realize that by reaching this conclusion on your own you are calling everyone who has seen the vid and not believed it a fool?”
“I call no man a fool, Father.”
“There are experts for this, Bingwen. Educated men. If they thought it was real, they would have taken action. There is no action, therefore it is not real. Know your place.”
Mother said nothing, but Bingwen could see that she took Father’s side. There was only disappointment and shame for him in her expression.
Bingwen bent low, putting his face to the floor.
“Do not mock me,” said Father.
“No mockery, Father. Only respect for those whose name I carry and whose approval I seek. Forgive me if I have brought offense.”
He wanted to argue, he had to argue. Aliens were coming, whether Father believed it or not. Bingwen knew it sounded ridiculous, but facts were facts. They had to prepare.
But what could he say that wouldn’t make Father angrier? The discussion was closed. Father would never watch the vid now, even if Bingwen brought it to him on a platter.
Bingwen remained prostrate for several minutes, saying nothing more. When he finally sat up, only Grandfather remained.
“Don’t anger your father,” said Grandfather. “It spoils the evening.”
Bingwen bent low again, but Grandfather got a hand under his shoulder and sat him back up. “Enough of the bowing. I’m not going to talk to the back of your head.”
Grandfather reached out to the table and took his cup of tea. They were silent a moment as Grandfather drank it.
“You believe me,” said Bingwen. “Don’t you?”
“I believe that you believe,” said Grandfather.
“That’s not a complete answer.”
Grandfather sighed. “Let us assume for a moment that something like this might be possible.”
Bingwen smiled.
“Might,” repeated Grandfather, raising a finger for emphasis. “Extremely unlikely, but possible.”
“You must go to the library, Grandfather, and see this vid for yourself.”
“And anger your father? No, no, no. I would rather enjoy my tea and sit by the fire in peace.”
Bingwen was crestfallen.
“What good would it do anyway?” said Grandfather. “Even if it were true, what could we do about it? Can we fight with sticks? Fly into space? Or should we pray?”
“Prepare to run away,” said Bingwen. “Pack what we need, and then bury it where we can get it quickly.”
Grandfather laughed. “Bury our belongings? Why? The aliens won’t care about our traveling food and clothing and tools.”
“We’re hiding it from Father,” said Bingwen. “Since he told me not to do this, I’m being very disrespectful, trying to save our family’s lives by making it possible for us to run away at a moment’s notice.”
“Your father will be furious when he finds out,” said Grandfather.
“He will only find out if and when we need the buried items,” said Bingwen. “By then, he will be grateful for them.”
They spoke quietly after that, making an inventory of the items they would need. It wasn’t until much later, as Bingwen was climbing into bed, his pants long since dried, that he realized that no one had even asked him why he had been wet.
CHAPTER 2
Victor
“Look at them, Imala,” said Victor. “They’re all going about their business as if nothing is wrong, as if this were another day in paradise.”
He was gazing out the window of the track car as it zipped by the buildings and pedestrians of Luna, Imala sitting opposite him, holding her holopad. “The whole world could be headed to ashes,” said Victor, “and nobody cares.”
Outside, the walkways were crowded with people: men and women in suits, maintenance crews, merchants at kiosks selling hot pastries and coffee. Nearly everyone wore magnetic greaves on their shins, which pulled their feet down to the metal walkway and forced them to move with a steady stop-and-go, robotlike gait. Only a few people were bounce-walking, relying solely on the Moon’s low gravity to hop about, and these were getting plenty of annoyed looks from those in greaves, as if to move about in such fashion were indecorous.
“They don’t know that anything is wrong, Victor,” said Imala. “The vid still only has around two million hits. I checked the numbers before we left.”