Chapter 3 Divergence

—That dreamlike planet summons those fated to meet it.

　　“In my view, humanity was either created by extraterrestrials or by God.” Captain Yang Zhiyuan’s remark stirred a thousand waves.

　　Dong Yifeng, in the midst of sipping tea, nearly sprayed it out upon hearing Yang’s words: “Captain Yang, I strongly disagree. Darwin’s theory of evolution has been repeatedly confirmed; humanity evolved from ancient apes.”

　　“Professor Dong is correct. Evolution has long become the consensus of the scientific community.” Zheng Ya regarded Yang’s assertion with open disdain.

　　As a crew member, Yang Zhiyuan had little desire to enter so specialized a discussion, yet the air of superior knowledge displayed by these professors and scholars, as though mocking his lack of learning, irritated him: “Respected Professors Zheng Ya and Dong Yifeng, every ancient civilization upon Earth possesses legends of a Creator fashioning mankind and of a great flood that destroyed the world.

　　“These great civilizations were often widely separated; under the conditions of ancient transport, why should they share such identical primordial legends?

　　“Fossils of apemen and Homo sapiens have indeed been discovered in many places, yet have any fossils of the intermediate stages between ape and human ever been found?”

　　Dong Yifeng was momentarily at a loss for reply to this series of questions: “Well… the absence of discovery does not prove nonexistence.”

　　“That is sophistry. Scientific research demands evidence; any theory lacking evidentiary support remains merely a hypothesis. I do not entirely reject Darwin’s theory of biological evolution; it possesses a degree of scientific validity. The survival of the fittest is a universal law.”

　　Yang paused, then continued: “Yet the claim that humanity evolved entirely from ancient apes still lacks fossil corroboration. Personally I believe that, without external stimulus or assistance, ancient apes could scarcely have evolved into humans. Extraterrestrial aid may well have played a part.”

　　This distinctly amateurish and eccentric assertion left the assembled experts and professors momentarily speechless. It was hardly surprising; even in the midtwentyfirst century the origin of humanity had not been fully clarified. Certain socalled popular theories continued to flourish and retain a measure of currency.

　　Bao Mingkai, observing that a casual remark of his own had ignited so fierce a debate, proceeded to expound from the genetic perspective: “Ladies and gentlemen, breeding experts have demonstrated that the range of variation within any species is limited; it cannot exceed the elastic bounds prescribed by that species’ genetic blueprint. Otherwise the resulting variety will prove sterile or revert to the original parent form. Thus crossspecies evolution does not exist.

　　“Variation determines the gene, and genes are ordinarily highly stable, faithfully replicating themselves in order to preserve the fundamental characteristics of the organism.

　　“Those ancient organisms now termed living fossils have endured tens of millions or even hundreds of millions of years without the slightest evolutionary change.”

　　Dong Yifeng, hearing this, curled his lip and exclaimed loudly: “Old Bao, what are you driving at? Even you, a professor of genetics, question the theory of evolution? Ridiculous! To my knowledge, genes are by no means incapable of mutation; mutations can produce species better adapted to their environment that then continue to reproduce and survive.”

　　Bao Mingkai paid no heed to the sarcasm and continued in an even tone: “Old Dong, do not be hasty; allow me to finish. Human chromosomes number twentythree pairs; the chimpanzee, whose DNA is most similar to ours, has twentyfour pairs; the gibbon has twentytwo; ancient apes also possessed twentyfour pairs. The reduction in human chromosomes is explained by evolutionists as genetic mutation.

　　“Yet you must understand, Old Dong, that under normal conditions genes are extremely stable. Under special circumstances mutation can indeed occur, but the overwhelming majority of such mutations result only in deformity, disease, or death; only an infinitesimal fraction are nonpathogenic.

　　Bao drew out his pipe, lit it, and drew a leisurely puff before continuing unhurriedly: “Evolution holds that one may rely upon the trivial advantages conferred by socalled genetic mutations to prevail in the struggle for existence.

　　“Unfortunately, calculations of probability demonstrate that the likelihood of evolution by such means is so vanishingly small as to be negligible.

　　“The scientific community currently estimates the age of the universe at approximately twenty billion years, while the time required to evolve a new species would be that age multiplied by ten.”

　　Yang Zhiyuan, seeing a professor of genetics supporting his position, stiffened his spine at once: “Professor Bao speaks truly. When one peels back the thick layers of strata, the fossil record of several billion years appears deliberately to contradict Mr. Darwin.

　　“The Cambrian explosion saw every animal and plant appear abruptly in the strata, yet no ancestral traces can be found; once they appeared they entered a state of stasis, most species showing no evident evolutionary change throughout their existence.

　　“Once these organisms emerged they essentially ceased to alter, even after millions of years, regardless of climatic or environmental shifts. Had Darwin’s theory held true, such conditions ought to have produced enormous species transformation.

　　“After every great catastrophe, organisms appear suddenly. If life evolved gradually, intermediate evolutionary forms should abound in the fossil record; in reality the transitional forms demanded by the theory of evolution are exceedingly difficult to locate.”

　　Yang’s lengthy discourse plunged the company into reflective silence.

　　Then Zhou Ke, seated beside Yang, suddenly spoke: “The origin of life remains an eternal scientific and philosophical question; further dispute is unnecessary. Even a day and a night of argument would yield no conclusion.

　　“I do, however, have one doubt. The spacecraft design upon the golden sarcophagus accords remarkably well with the principles of aerodynamics, indicating that these mysterious Martians appear to have possessed interstellar travel capability.

　　“The lava caverns on Mars show clear traces of habitation, and carbon14 dating places them at least ten thousand years in the past. The distance from Mars to Earth is not great. Why, then, would a civilization capable of interstellar flight choose not to journey to the beautiful Earth, but instead dwell in a sealed lava cavern upon desolate Mars and end their days there?”

　　Silence fell upon the company at the first officer’s question.

　　After a moment’s reflection Su Ziqi said: “Earth’s last ice age ended tens of thousands of years ago; perhaps at that time the terrestrial environment was simply unsuitable for survival.”

　　Huamei, designed as a reserved and taciturn bionic robot in service to humanity, had previously only smiled when Dong Yifeng jestingly called Su Ziqi the White Impermanence and himself the Black, offering no reply.

　　In preparation for this expedition Huamei had sought out Su Ziqi beforehand and studied ancient Sumerian under her guidance.

　　Because of their close association, Huamei now spoke with fewer reservations: “Professor Su, your statement is not entirely accurate. Even during Earth’s ice ages many animals survived; the environment, though harsh, was not uninhabitable.

　　“Yet the Martian environment is indeed highly unsuitable for human life. Martian surface dust particles contain large quantities of radioactive substances.

　　“Even after human modification, Mars remains a dangerous planet; humans can survive only with protective measures, and certain activities can be performed only by us bionic robots.”

　　Yang Zhiyuan, observing that the conversation had returned to Mars, continued to expound his distinctive views: “I rather believe that Mars must once have been habitable long ago; otherwise so advanced a Martian civilization could never have arisen.

　　“Why the environment is now so hostile may be the result of some major event—perhaps an interstellar nuclear war—that reduced Mars to its present condition.”

　　“Captain Yang, you grow ever more extravagant. By your account a highly advanced civilization possessing nuclear weapons once existed in the prehistoric solar system and waged interstellar nuclear war among themselves? Then was it Earth’s primitive humans who extinguished this Martian intelligent civilization?” Dong Yifeng inquired with a touch of sarcasm.

　　First Officer Zhou Ke, a firm supporter of Yang among the crew, rose to his defense against the experts’ ridicule: “What Captain Yang suggests is by no means impossible. The spacecraft design upon the golden sarcophagus is sufficient proof that the Martian civilization of that era was advanced enough for interstellar travel; the capacity to manufacture nuclear weapons would hardly be surprising.

　　“Huamei, can you tell us of the harmful constituents in the Martian atmosphere and soil?”

　　Huamei replied: “At present the Martian atmosphere contains large quantities of the isotope xenon129. Simultaneously the surface soil contains abundant radioactive elements—uranium, thorium, and radioactive potassium—among other harmful substances.”

　　Zhou smiled with satisfaction: “Huamei is correct. Chemical knowledge informs us that natural nuclear reactors produce primarily the isotopes xenon131 through 135; an increase in xenon129 can result only from intense, instantaneous nuclear fission.

　　“Moreover, uranium and thorium are deposited only upon the Martian soil surface—something that could occur solely through largescale nuclear detonations upon that surface.

　　“Perhaps Mars was once vibrant with life; only a nuclear war drove its civilization into that lava cavern to eke out a precarious existence.”

　　Su Ziqi smiled faintly upon hearing this: “Captains Yang and Zhou, your imaginations truly know no bounds; you could write science fiction. Yet from a logical standpoint the argument is not entirely untenable.”

　　Zheng Ya remained unconvinced: “Ziqi, pay no heed to their nonsense. One cannot conclude that this Martian civilization possessed interstellar travel capability merely because the sarcophagus bears designs resembling spacecraft.

　　“Reliefs and murals unearthed in Mayan cities also depict patterns resembling spacecraft, yet the Maya had not even invented the wheel.”

　　Yang was displeased: “Professor Zheng, refrain from personal attacks. Judging by the exquisite craftsmanship of the relics left by the Martian civilization, they had unquestionably attained a very high level.”

　　Seeing that Yang persisted, Zheng continued: “Captain Yang, these alone cannot establish that the Martian civilization possessed interstellar navigation, still less the capacity to manufacture nuclear weapons.

　　“Those aircraftlike designs, including the mural of the threeeyed giant, may simply represent a primitive worship of celestial deities or God, or a cult of birds, or fear of natural phenomena, leading them to invent or revere things that never existed in reality.”

　　The brainstorming session was a free exchange of views—a confrontation between amateur speculation and mainstream science—and naturally no consensus could be reached.

　　Yang glanced at his watch, cleared his throat to dispel the awkwardness of an argument that had grown flushed and inconclusive, and brought the debate to a close: “Ladies and gentlemen, according to the time the ship will shortly enter nearEarth orbit. Let us adjourn for now; First Officer Zhou and I must return to the cockpit.”

　　Through the observation window a blue planet was already faintly visible in the distance.

　　Suddenly Su Ziqi felt the red phoenix jade pendant that had rested against her breast lift as though it had grown wings, leaving her delicate skin and rising like a small umbrella, lifting her spacesuit.

　　At that very moment Captain Yang, in the pilot’s seat, muttered: “Strange… why has Earth disappeared?”

　　Everyone looked through the window; the blue Earth that had hung outside only an instant before had vanished in a flash.

　　Zhou Ke stared at the instrument panel in bewilderment: “Captain, the instruments show the ship is accelerating continuously, yet our deceleration engines remain engaged.”

　　No sooner had he spoken than the red warning lights on every console began to flash, and the internal broadcast blared: “Emergency! Emergency! …”

　　The vessel trembled and swayed violently, up and down, left and right, like a kite whose string has snapped, plunging into an endless abyss.

　　Yang, in the pilot’s seat, suddenly noticed that his palms had become transparent; even the bones within were clearly visible.

　　The entire spacecraft turned transparent; it was as though everyone floated in vacuum. Time itself seemed to halt; all things froze at that instant and ceased to flow.

　　In contrast, the myriad stars across the heavens streaked past like meteors at tremendous speed, racing rapidly rearward…

　　After an indeterminate interval, as if abruptly awakening from a nightmare of sleep paralysis, everything around them returned to normal.

　　Yang wiped the sweat from his forehead: “First Officer Zhou, check the ship’s status.”

　　“Captain, velocity is normal; all instruments read normal.”

　　“What exactly just occurred?” Yang murmured.

　　At that moment a deepblue planet shot out of the darkness like a marble, floating before the observation window.

　　Zhou reminded him: “Captain Yang, Earth is visible once more.”

　　Yang composed himself and ordered: “Very well. Prepare the ship for atmospheric entry.”