Invisible Planets: An Anthology of Contemporary Chinese SF in Translation

by Ken Liu

“Anywhere is fine. Tonight you will find eternal life and freedom in poetry and dream.”

Arvardan knew that some people with poor memories would print their Web Access Serials on the backs of their shirts.

The speakers on the computer suddenly began to play the national anthem. Arvardan put down the cup and refocused his eyes on the computer screen. This meant that he had signed on to the Web. The screen first displayed a notice from the appropriate authorities: plain white background, black text, fourteen-point font. The notice described the meaning of using the Web and the latest regulations concerning such use. The notice quickly disappeared. What followed was a desktop background emblazoned with the slogan “Let us build a healthy and stable Web!” Another window slowly floated up, containing

several links: work, entertainment, e-mail, and BBS discussion forums. The BBS link was grayed out, indicating that choice was not yet available to him.

The body of the e-mail was written with a series of individual words and certain fixed expressions separated by slashes. This was a format suggested by the appropriate authorities. Although modern mainframe computers could now process natural-language digital texts easily, this style of writing was a gesture on the part of the citizen to indicate that he possessed the proper attitude.

Arvardan clicked REPLY, and then opened a text file with the name “List of Healthy Words” in another window. This file contained the words and fixed expressions which the appropriate authorities required every Web user to use. When they wanted to compose e-mails or use the discussion forums, they must find the appropriate words from this list with which to express themselves. If the filtering software found any Web user using a word not on this list, then the word would be automatically shielded and replaced with the phrase “Please use healthy language.”

The resulting compositions were like that cup of distilled water: flavorless.

On the Web, he was nothing more than the sum of a series of dry numbers and “healthy words.”

The appropriate authorities did

not recommend too many outdoor activities, as they caused people to make physical contact with one another, and what happened after that was difficult to control. The Listener, a portable language-filtering machine, was designed specifically to prevent that sort of thing.

“You, have, a, cigarette?” The man enunciated each word and paused half a second between them. The Listener was not yet sufficiently advanced to adjust to the unique rhythm and intonation of each person. In response, the appropriate authorities required that all citizens speak in this manner, so that it would be more convenient to check if anyone used words outside the regulations.

This whole city is an asylum, and in it, the stronger inmates govern the weaker inmates and turn all the sane people into madmen like themselves. Fuck ‘sensitive words.’ I’ve fucking had it…”

If it weren’t for the few windows, the building would be indistinguishable from a solid block of concrete: hard and dead. Even mosquitoes and bats stayed away.

“To, increase, Web-related, work, efficiency; to, create, a, healthy, and, stable, Web, environment; to, better, contribute, to, the, motherland.”

He shoved the papers into his coat pocket. The pieces of paper were actually meaningless, as the electronic copies had been sent to his e-mail already. But the appropriate authorities felt that formal documents on paper were helpful in inducing in users the proper feelings of fear and respect.

The crime of “willfully lolling about” was only slightly less serious than the crime of “using sensitive words.”

“Aren’t you sick of the name they have for you in their files? I want to give myself a name that I like, even if there’s just one place to use it. In the Talking Club we each have picked a name for ourselves. That’s how we address one another.”

They think that the BBS forums will show them something different from daily life—of course, reality is otherwise, since the State’s control over the BBS forums is even stricter than the regulation of e-mail—but their desire indicates they want to be free.

Living constantly under the restrictions imposed by sensitive words will drive people crazy because they can neither think nor express themselves.” Wagner moved his heavy body to the side. “This is exactly what the appropriate authorities want to see. Then only the stupid will survive. A society full of stupid men is a stable one.”

owning physical books is a great crime and would risk exposing the Talking Club.

“To put it simply: technology is neutral. But the progress of technology will cause a free world to become ever freer, and a totalitarian world to become ever more repressive.”

“We still have to have frank exchanges with each other.” “Frank exchanges?” “Yes, fucking, to speak plainly.”

He carefully treasured the joy of having a secret club.

Distilled water was still better than no water. The Talking Club provided sufficient nourishment to sustain the dried husk of his spirit. Bottom line: he was easily satisfied.

The List of Sensitive Words was eliminated, and in its place came the List of Healthy Words.

I think the appropriate authorities have always operated in a state of fear. They are terrified that people will have the use of too many words and express too many thoughts, making their control difficult.”

“In the beginning, I had lots of ideals. I went to the mountains and joined them. But when the rush of freedom had passed, what followed was only constant deprivation and suffering. I wavered and finally abandoned my friends, snuck back to the Capital, and now I hide in a girl’s bedroom, chat, fuck, and drink coffee, and say I’m satisfied with my life.”

“We can only compress our emotional lives into the weekly meetings of the Talking Club. It’s already a great luxury,”

There were all kinds of codes and hidden meanings. These puzzles came from different individuals, and the format and decoding technique differed for each.

He saw a contraption that looked like a radar dish, hidden in a corner on this side of the street. Arvardan knew exactly what this was. It was what he had been designing the software for: the new, high-powered, active Listener. The device was capable of sending out active electromagnetic waves to capture vibrations made by voices against walls and windows from a distance and examine such speech for sensitive words.

From the perspective of the visitors, in a place lacking crisis and competition, life should be able to survive very well without intelligence. But there is indeed civilization here, and indeed it is

beautiful, vigorous, full of creativity.

Everyone on this world is a visitor. There are no natives at all.

Almost no one can discover Pimaceh’s secret except a few true wanderers who have been to all corners of the universe. They can sense that the inhabitants here emphasize slightly too often that they are the People of Pimaceh. On planets where real natives have remained in charge, this is one of those things easily forgotten.

If you ask them directly, they’ll reply, very puzzled, “Yes, what you say sounds like Truth. But the world is full of Truths. So what if you have a Truth?”

So Amiyachi’s orbit is shaped like an irregular gourd. It dances a waltz along the hyperbolic paraboloid of the gravitational fields of the two stars.

They live on the same planet but belong to

entirely separate worlds.

everyone is only measuring the universe using the ruler of their own lifespan.

“How can you know about all these civilizations?

This is the point of traveling.

Death for the Yanyannians takes a long time, but no one knows exactly how long. It’s never been precisely measured. To simplify things, they list the age of death as the day when growth ceases. In their eyes, the passage of time is a measure of change. When growth ceases, time stops.

The Tisu Atians can alter their bodies in accordance with their desires.

So many Tisu Atians are even more cautious than the inhabitants of other planets. They speak carefully; they work carefully. They’re terrified of the possibility that in a moment of carelessness, the silly face they made before going to bed will become permanent, will turn into a tumor impossible to remove.

clocksmith’s

All of these different species are united by their language. It’s only through the common tongue and identical numbers of chromosomes that they can recognize themselves as possessing a common origin.

You know something? The real key isn’t about whether what I say is true, but whether you believe it. From start to end, the direction of narrative is not guided by the tongue, but by the ear.

Sad? Is it that the story I’m telling is sad, or is it that the story you’re hearing is sad?

range. The sensitivity of their ears is not matched to the versatility of their vocal cords, and so they never hear as much as they can speak. But the most interesting part is that the range of frequencies each of them can hear is different. While they all think they’re hearing the same song, a thousand individuals would actually hear a thousand different songs, but none of them

knows that.