“China Davison’s Children” by Tom Zhuonan

I sat on a chair in the park and watched the meteor shower in front of me. As I predicted, tonight was indeed an extraordinary night. There were many chairs dotted around the park, and one hundred and eighty other residents of our “Planet Warner” came to watch the meteor shower with me. The atmosphere was really like the Fourth of July National Day celebrations in the past.

The residents let out bursts of “oo” and “ah” sighs from time to time. The little children were screaming so wildly that their parents had to warn them to keep their voices down.

There weren’t many of us, a very close-knit little group . Residents were constantly getting up from their chairs and gathering together to chat with each other. Normally, as the mayor of Warner World (there are too few people here to produce positions like prime minister, king or president), I have a lot of people around me.

They all asked me: “Alexander, how did you know it would rain like this?”

“It’s all written in old books. If you have time, go to the library and read it. It’s open to everyone. All you have to do is read.” I said to them.

“I think I will.”

But, I know they won’t. Our people don’t read much.

“Will the meteor shower damage Miss ‘s spaceship?” Joe. McNutt asked.

“No,” I said, “I warned her beforehand. She said their ship’s hull was tougher than ancient Earth rhinoceros hide. Stone couldn’t do anything to that ship.”

“How long will it take for them to come back again?”

“They have a long way to go, Joe. It might take them two years just to get there and back. They also have to spend time building transport ships and hiring people. It should be four and a half or five years before they get back here.”

“Damn it,” said Joe, “are we going to live ten more years?”

We looked at each other for a long time. Joe is not a very strong man. He has realized how much our world will change when the spacecraft comes back.

“Cheer up,” I replied, “who knows what will happen in five years. Maybe Star Wars will happen, or Lillian’s ship will never come back, or they will forget about us on purpose. matter.”

We looked up at each other again.

“You will really miss her, won’t you, Alexande,” he said.

“I guess so, Joe.”

It was late at night, and people were walking towards their homes. I took the record out of my pocket and read it again.

Records about the Sadat joint spacecraft＼＼

A private report＼＼

Alexand Ferinovich V. Blake＼＼

(Mayor of Planet Warner)

They arrived on a crisp, quiet night, and as the roar of their jet engines reached us from miles away, Werner’s men came running. I wasn’t the first one there, but when I arrived, people made room for me.

The color of their ship was the color of tarnished copper, but it wasn’t copper. The color, shape and structure of the ship are not much different from the spaceships our ancestors took when they came to Werner a hundred years ago. Of course, the red, white and blue flag tells us that they are our fellow countrymen and they have finally found us.

This is what we have been most afraid of all along! None of us, our fathers and grandfathers, wanted this moment to come. Now, it has arrived in my lifetime.

Just as the hatch of the spacecraft was opened inward, I caught a glimpse of several Werner women in the surrounding woods. I knew that Felicity must be peeking there, because she was curious about everything. What would she think? Thinking of this, I trembled . My wife is not the kind of person who just hides in the woods and watches others get the spotlight.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait for a long time. Two tall, athletic men wearing golden clothes appeared on the copper-colored spaceship. Seeing the weapons in their hands, our guards immediately became alert.

“Do you people speak English?” one of them yelled at us. “Are you descendants of the pilot of the Sam Houston V spaceship?”

Sam Willis is our captain of the guard. He looked back at me, wondering if I was going to say something back. It wasn’t the right time for me to speak, so I pointed at Sam and nodded.

“Welcome to Planet Warner!” he shouted loudly, “Yes, we speak English, yes, we are the descendants of Sam Houston. Who are you and what do you do here?”

They didn’t answer Sam. I guess it’s not out of rudeness but because they have no right to do that. The man who asked us the question spoke into something that looked like a radio. It was clear from their behavior that they were just messengers for the commander who had not yet shown up, just like my former guard Sam.

Sam looked at me uneasily and I nodded, telling him not to worry. At this time, a man who was thinner than the messenger walked out of the flyingly open hatch. The man took four steps forward, stood on the steel ladder, and said loudly: “Citizens of Warner, citizens of the United Planets of Earth, the headquarters congratulates you for surviving, and hopes that after a hundred and forty-one years of silence, I’ll contact you again after this year.”

My heart sank suddenly, not because of the words themselves, but because of the voice. I thought I heard the hissing curses of our wives coming from the surrounding woods.

“I am Lillian Dahout, captain of the light craft Sadat at Headquarters. I wish to speak to your regional governor.”

Oh my god, that’s a woman!

Our people were all staring at her, and I, too, was stunned by her. After a long time, I woke up and stepped forward. Although she is not perfect, her was whiteperseverance and smooth, except for a scar running parallel to her left eyebrow an inch above it. She may be too thin.

When she saw me, she smiled at me.

We shook hands and introduced ourselves. She spoke first: “Mr. Blake, we have many questions to ask about you and your predecessors.”

“We have no secrets, Captain,” I answered. “Come on to my office, where we can take a break and discuss your problems. Joe, Sam, follow me.”

The captain asked the two burly men to follow her, and gave another order into the cabin. Immediately, another man appeared at the cabin door, and he followed the captain. I later learned this man was Dr. Jonathan Yamakesh.

On the way to the settlement we passed an open area surrounded by woods. The cool breeze blew against our cheeks, and I vaguely smelled the fragrance of Felicity. I looked at the captain and she didn’t seem to notice the aroma at all, which was good.

We were about twenty feet into the woods when the captain spoke: “Mr. Blake, we’re wondering why the survivors on Sam Houston never got in touch with headquarters? Could it be the ship’s backup radio?” The system is also damaged?”

“Did you send a signal to headquarters when you landed here, Captain?” I asked.

“No. The sunspot activity is abnormal and the signal cannot penetrate.”

“It’s not an abnormal situation, Captain. The current sunspot activity is normal for Werner. We have never stopped contacting the headquarters. The sunspot activity has never weakened so that we can’t find a breakthrough. I have always hoped that in In the years since our forebears arrived, Headquarters would have improved the radio system so that it could cut through the interference of sunspots . Sam Houston’s engine was destroyed on landing, and we’re stranded here, unable to send out a distress signal. .

“Why did it take you so long to find us?”

She replied: “Sadly, even today, spaceships are very precious. The headquarters wants to send spaceships to investigate what happened to the Sam Houston, but there are still many more important tasks to be completed… I’m sorry. .”

“Come on, Captain,” I said with a smile, “I understand. The pilots of the Sam Houston had been given final instructions before departure. They knew they were taking risks. So, light craft are still valuable?”

“It’s more expensive than before,” she admitted, shaking her head. “It seems that every year our number of spaceships doubles, but our workload triples. We are always extremely busy.”

I nodded. After a few seconds of silence, she asked the key question: “Mr. Blake, I don’t recall seeing women around our ship. Where are your women?”

I’m going to lie back, that will be easy. But, these people are too smart

“They’re dead,” I said.

There was a howl from the woods, and one of the two big men put his hands on his hips . It was obvious that they were carrying weapons, but he did not draw .

“Dead?” Dr. Yamagush muttered, “When? How?”

“They’ve been dead for a long time,” I said simply.

When I walked out of the woods, I looked back, hoping not to see Felicity, hoping she wasn’t nearby. The woods behind me were like a huge curtain, covering everything up well. Looking up, there is an evergreen coniferous forest in front of me. A pair of large moons loomed in the sky behind the branches. Tonight, the two round moons are very close.

Whenever two moons change from half moon to full moon, they will be so close to each other. We call this situation a “moon bridge.” Because the sky between the two moons is very brightly illuminated by their light. If we squint our eyes, we will find that the bright area between the two moons is like a wide link.