Silent New Year

The Blackwater Files

You read the latest in the Blackwater Files, compiled by

The Chronicler

.

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Blackwater Files
Patient 六百六十六¹
Year 2047²

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“Gugu, can you tell me the story of the Nian³?”

“Of course, dear one. And no, no, no, I insist that you sit closest to the fire. These old bones can’t do much now. The least I can do is make sure my most precious niece stays warm.”

“Gugu. You must sit closer to the fire. If you catch cold, what will people think of me?”

Gugu removed her warmest shawl and placed it on my lap. She whisked away the thin blanket I had been using and wrapped herself in it. “Now I will sit closer to the fire,” she said, grinning.

Gugu began her story: “Thousands of years ago, before the world seemed so big and before we feared aggressions from foreigners, our ancestors’ most destructive enemy was Da Han⁴, the Great Cold. They feared for their lives, but not for the reason you might think. You might wonder—was it pandemic? Was it frostbite? Was it starvation? Yes and no. Yes, these things did happen, but not from natural causes. There was a beast who brought disease and frigid cold and famine. The beast resembled a leopard but had the feet of a bear and the mouth of a lion. It had many horns on its head⁵. Now, villagers in Chengdu, because they live in the mountains, say that the beast came from the mountains. But the villagers of Dalian, because we live by the sea, say that the beast came from the sea. We were a village of fishermen. Our lives depended on the sea, and yet our lives were extinguished by the beast that came from the sea. It seemed to us that our lives, for better or worse, were anchored to the sea, anchored like chains, like a prison. Because every Da Han the Nian came to stake its claim on us and everything we possessed. In short, it was hungry, and it came to devour us flesh and soul and bone.

But this was thousands of years ago, beloved niece. We found a way to survive, didn’t we? Yes. It took the sacrifices of many of us to discover the weaknesses of the beast. Its weakness was not to be found beneath its diamond rock scales, nor could its stealth and power be hindered, although we erected walls and locked our doors. Even its hunger could not be satisfied, although we tried to feed it our livestock. Its weaknesses were its eyes and its ears, for the beast feared the color red—the reason it devoured its victims whole making sure to consume every ounce of lifeblood. And the beast feared great noises—the reason it devoured its victims in their sleep, so it would not hear the clamoring cries of its prey, lest they speak some curse to ward it away.  

Maud Beauregard of Unsplash

Therefore, we began to paint spring poems to usher in the return of warmth and life. We hung these poems on vertical scrolls of red paper lining each side of the doorway. When the Nian came, it would not enter the houses crimson with the reminders of spring. As Li Chun⁶ drew closer, ushering us out of the harsh season of Da Han, we would set off firecrackers with such a deafening roar, the Nian would flee back into its watery caverns to escape the artillery battering of sound waves. My niece, this is why we do these things every year, because the Nian is always looking for an opportunity. And though we have enjoyed thousands of years of peace now, there have been no official terms of peace agreed upon in this war. If we open the door to the wrong sort of evil, all the peace we have fought for will be lost.”

We drank rice liquor and laughed and smiled. It was the last happy memory with Gugu. Gugu’s health deteriorated in the night. I had passed the age of believing in her stories, but as I lay in my bed that night, I wondered if the Nian was coming to claim her. I wondered if there was anything I could do to stop it.

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The hotel lobby was decorated with banners of red and gold and the loud, bright sounds of New Year’s music⁷ clanged in the overhead speakers. The bar counter was set with glasses of rice liquor, some spilt, as if someone had been here before me, and some full. I spotted calligraphy scrolls on the other side of the lobby, rolled up and stacked in pyramids. I grabbed a shot of rice liquor. It was silky and smooth in my mouth, but it burned all the way down into my bones. The liquor dribbled down my chin and soaked into my blue uniform. My face flushed red. The flavor reminded me of Gugu; that is, it reminded me of her home-brewed batches of liquor, infused with goji berries, dates, and ginger. I reminded myself that I was here for her. Was there a chance to save her? But then I wondered how real this place was. How could it help anything in the real world? They seemed to think it would matter, and that was enough for me to try. Could this rice liquor make me drunk, even though I was only in a dream-state of my subconscious? I sloppily swallowed another shot. They had instructed me to gather information. I had better keep going.

As I walked over to the calligraphy scrolls, Classical Two-Stringed Fiddle Music⁸ began to play overhead. All but one of the calligraphy scrolls were rolled up carefully in the stacks. The open scroll was curled at the top and the bottom, obscuring the characters. I took hold of the rod that framed the top of the scroll that has been fashioned to hang from a wall. Was this a red banner, a spring poem for the New Year? I slowly unfurled it, but where was the poem? There were only two simple characters. Two of the first ones I ever learned. The first one: 水⁹. Elegant curved strokes, as in the ancient seal style. Painted with exquisite skill, and yet such flowing ease. 水. Water. The calligrapher must be a thoughtful, intelligent, beautiful soul, I thought. The second character: 果¹⁰. Again in the ancient seal script form, but the image was so violently rendered it transfigured the image into something that resembled a man hanging from a tree. Surely this cannot be drawn by the same artist, for the image could only have been wrought in a tempest of rage. 果. End Result. But together, 水果 means fruit.

Isaac Chou of Unsplash

I picked up another scroll that appeared to be a spring poem. They told me to keep moving and resist lingering. Time moves differently here. One momentary pause to think could be an hour of inconvenience for General Zhao¹¹. I opened the scroll. Instead of a spring poem, it was a nursery rhyme from grade school, which was my only education.

Little white rabbit, oh so white,

Two little ears standing upright.

Loves eating carrots and lettuce shoots,

Bouncing, bouncing, oh so cute! ¹²

As I read, the third line of the rhyme changed. One of the words melted and reconfigured into something else.

…Loves eating fruit and lettuce shoots.¹³

水果. Fruit.

The nursery rhyme was written in the same contradictory calm then violent fashion as I had seen in the first scroll. The playful, childish font devolved into wrath. Suddenly, the characters began to smear and congeal into an amoeba of black ink that began spilling onto the floor. It was a small puddle, but it began to grow. I kept moving away from it, backing away as its perimeter grew. It swirled like a whirlpool and swallowed up the hotel lobby. I backed up into an elevator. The door closed before the ink could seep in.

Going down.

Fourth floor.¹⁴

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The elevator door opened, and I stepped into an oddly familiar place. Was this Gugu’s village? My eyes needed to adjust to the tiny sliver of moonlight. It did smell like the Dalian fishermen’s town, where Gugu lived. Salt and squid and carcasses. Yes. There it was. Gugu’s one-room hut with a corrugated metal roof. I could make out the bright red New Year spring poems hanging from her door. I lost my focus for a moment and wondered if she was there waiting for me to join her for the last evening before Li Chun, the beginning of spring.

I ran to the hut and swung open the door. It was dark inside. No fire burning. I tentatively took a step over the threshold in the dark, but my sneakers squished into something soft. Mud? I took another step toward the other end of the hut. Something soft brushed against my leg. What was that? I opened the shutters on the other side of the hut and let the dim moonlight inside the house. The floor was lined with what looked like overgrown grass. I reached down and pulled. It came out easily in the soft, muddy ground. A red carrot dangled from my hand. A garden? I don’t know why I had the compulsion to pull up all the vegetables, but I did. They slid out of the loose earth so easily. Using both hands, I grasped bundles of carrots by their leafy greens and felt the weight of them. So many. We could have vegetable stew for the New Year. Now I just needed some meat to flavor it. I became lost in this fantasy, almost forgetting I was in the Undertow.

I carried the carrots in both hands and walked back outside Gugu’s hut. I felt giddy with memories of childhood New Year feasts. I could hear the waves of the ocean. They sounded closer than I had remembered.

The dragon stood on the shore of the sea. ¹⁵

Was that my own thought or was someone speaking to me? I could see the waves lapping on the shore. Surely there would be a fisherman. A little bit of fish or squid would do nicely to flavor the vegetable stew. I could even invite the fisherman to our meal. Gugu would want that. As I approached the water, I noticed something odd about the water. It was bubbling. Boiling. Like a Hot Pot of vegetable stew. Perfect for the coldest night of Da Han.

There were vegetables floating in the water. Onions, bamboo shoots, bean sprouts. I felt compelled to add the carrots. I stepped closer to the water, close enough that I could feel the boiling water warm the soles of my sneakers. I threw the carrots into the water, and they bobbed like buoys. The vegetables assembled themselves into the character 水. The bubbling calmed. The water stilled and cooled. Everything seemed quiet. A moment later, the vegetables agitated, as if something was swimming beneath them.  

The dragon stood on the shore of the sea.

In the shadow of the moonlight, I could see the outline of a creature with many horns emerging from the violently bubbling boiling water in the middle of the swirling vegetables. I knew I needed to turn and run, but I was frozen in disbelief. Maybe it didn’t see me. I stood still. The last New Moon of Da Han swallowed up the remaining sliver of moonlight just as the Nian began racing toward me. I turned and ran. If I could reach Gugu’s hut, I would be safe. The red banners. The spring poems. Come on, I thought, where are all the firecrackers? We need some noise! I couldn’t hear anything behind me. Don’t look behind you. Keep going. Gugu’s hut is right there.

There were no screams. There was only silence.

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You listen to The Future Starts with You¹⁶ and wonder when it’s your turn. As the Year of the Rabbit ends, you think about the next year. The year of the Dragon. 2024.

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“We have successfully accessed Blackwater. The computer was able to record each level she accessed,” Hu Ping reported.

“Excellent. Now we no longer need to send spies directly to Dr. Karasevdas. He keeps his research to himself, even though it could help the world. We can conduct our own research without him and lead the whole world into an era of peace and longevity,” said the Head of Research.

“Elysium™ Corporation does not share your ideals, and neither does the whole of the West. We must be wary of their retribution. Dr. Karasevdas may appear to have the coolness of smooth jade, but he is a ruthless beast on the inside,” Hu Ping warned.

“You're right, of course. But now Blackwater cannot be held over our heads for his profit, and perhaps this dragon will prove to be an ally.” The Head of Research indulged in a brief smile.

“I agree. And there is more. This can be used for loyalty testing. If we can tap the subconscious, we can identify spies for the imperialists. Moreover, we could potentially remotely access an Elysium™ patient’s subconscious for observation, influence, or recruitment,” Hu Ping said, his speech racing with innovative energy.

“But, surely, they are recruiting desperate drug addicts for their initial testing,” the Head of Research said doubtfully, though with an edge of optimistic hope.

“Yes, but a program like this will draw the surveillance of their own government. The caliber of recruits may increase with time.”

“I follow your logic, comrade. Excellent work. As we build this team, we will need to guarantee to the General himself that we can use Blackwater for the benefit of our people, and ultimately the world. Consider yourself volunteered as our first subject of loyalty testing. The future starts with you, comrade.”

Hu Ping glanced at the young woman convulsing violently, submersed in the tank as the waters began to overflow. 

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1. Six hundred sixty-six

2. 兔年 tù nián - Year of the Rabbit in the twelve-year Chinese Zodiac

3. 年兽 nián shòu - demon-creature that eats people in Chinese mythology

4. 大寒 dàhàn the harshest cold of winter, the 24th solar term of the Chinese lunisolar seasons

5. This description comes from Revelation 13:2 and is combined with the story of 年兽

6. 立春 lìchūn  - The beginning of spring, the first solar term of the new year of the Chinese lunisolar seasons.

7. The linked music piece is called “Gongxi Gongxi Gongxi ni” by Wong Xiao Jun

8. 二胡 Èrhú  - pronounced “Are-who” a two-stringed musical instrument originating in China. The linked music piece is called “Étude on a Single String” by Guo Gan, Chinese Erhu master.

9. 水 Shuǐ  - water

10. 果 Guǒ  - end result

11. 赵将军 Zhào jiāngjūn - General Zhao

12. 小白兔白又白 Xiǎo bái tù bái yòu bái
两只耳朵竖起来 liǎng zhī ěrduǒ shù qǐlái
爱吃萝卜爱吃菜 ài chī luóbo ài chī cài
蹦蹦跳跳真可爱 bèng bèngtiào tiào zhēn kě'ài.

13. ...爱吃水果爱吃菜

14. The fourth floor doesn’t exist in Chinese buildings, because the word “four” (si4) sounds like the word “death” (si3).

15. A reference to Revelation 13:1

16. The Future Starts with You by Aperture Science Psychoacoustic Laboratories. For science, you monster.