第26章
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Meanwhile，the priest searched the valley for foodstuffs with utmost care，but all that he managed to come up with were a few pieces of moldy bread and a handful of raisins，having found several rows of dried up grapevines behind the wine cellar.Most likely，the monks had brewed their own wine.Finding neither paper，nor books，nor diaries，the priest thought back to what he had read of the reclusive sect.They were fond of manual labor and meditation，he recalled，but none of the books he had read mentioned what they ate.
Hunger had begun to gnaw at the priest，and his vision was already starting to blur.Making another circuit of the tower，the nagging question entered his mind a second time：what did they eat？
The tower itself was the only place in the valley that the priest had not searched yet.It was tall，at least 100 meters high，with maybe 600 steps.Given his weakened state it would be an exhausting job to climb all the way to the top.
Nevertheless，he began to climb.The stairs were on the inside of the tower，winding clockwise，one loop after another，forming an unbroken chain of stone steps seemingly without end.The tower seemed to grow ever higher as he climbed，as if made from the same stock as the bracken fern trees which grew quietly in the sunshine outside，seeking to attain heights ever higher.Despite his best efforts，the priest was forced to sit and rest from time to time.Sitting，he found himself fascinated with the mural painted on the white inner wall of the tower.Terrible scenes were depicted in the painting，most likely of the pagan hell；aside from these images were drawings of four heroes：one holding a sword，another some sort of musical instrument，finally the last holding some species of large rodent.There were dancing fairy maidens，trees laden with fruit，water lilies and graceful deer；and beneath them all was the image of sleeping man.Probably it was meant to indicate that the world in all ofits splendor was nothing more than a dream in the mind of the Buddha.Did not the ancient peoples of India believe that the physical world was in fact made up of dreams？
Having spent a great deal of time，when he reached the top of the tower the priest was surprised to discover an empty room.Large white stones surrounded a strange circular cavity which resembled a hothouse，or a womb.On the ground inside the stone womb the monks of the reclusive sect had left shallow depressions，accumulated from many years of sitting in this place.Three narrow openings were cut in the curved wall of the round room，serving as windows.Between the three windows hung six paintings，one of which immediately drew his attention：a group of emaciated men，with distended stomachs like drums，their eyes brilliant with hunger.Arms outstretched，they looked like spiders，taking，grabbing，begging.
The tower of hunger.The four words sprang unbidden to the priest’s mind，filling him with dread.In a panic，he fled from the room.
In the night the beast came again，breathing heavily outside the fence and spraying the air with that stench particular to carnivores，its eyes shining like two lanterns.The sound of the beast attacking the fence with terrible force echoed from the mouth of the valley throughout the night.So intense was the beast’s attack that the stones of the ramparts danced and the wooden posts wavered menacingly.The beast’s inability to break through the fence that night，however，let the hungry souls inside the valley finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Now，the only task left to them to work on with a common purpose was the maintenance of the fence.The rest of their time was spent dispersed throughout the valley，madly searching high and low going through every hut and every patch of bare land for something，anything to eat.The grape vine was the first thing to be eaten，and then all of their leather goods：leather shoes，leather belts，leather canteens.It was fortunate that this accursed planet was without worms or rats，otherwise they too would have been wiped out.
The captain never told the priest if he should stop looking for food，and so he continued to drag his tired body up and down the valley.Once，in a dimly lit room，he came across the chemistry professor who was stuffing something wrapped in dried grass and sticks into the lining of his jacket.When he saw the priest，his face turned red from embarrassment.
The professor was a pale man，tall and thin，with a high nose and big eyes like two bright blue blisters，making him look as if he was always afraid of something.He blinked his eyes and handed two tubers to the priest good naturedly，saying that in China people used them for medicine.“Should be...good for...my malaria，”he said haltingly.
After going through the featureless huts one by one，the priest became convinced that the secret of the reclusive sect lay inside the tower.Although he was even weaker than before，the priest resolved to climb tower a second time to study the murals and the empty meditation room.He discovered that the materials used to build the tower were not the local sandstone，but instead that the tower had been constructed of white mica，quarried from some distance away.After careful inspection，he concluded that it was different from the mica of Earth，with countless tiny grains of crystals flashing from within the rock，as numerous as grains of sand in the great Ganges River.
The three windows of the meditation room were extremely narrow，just large enough to allow a man to pass through.They led a small viewing platform which encircled the tower，from which one could see the wide and empty expanse of the desert beyond the valley.In the desert，the priest could see the wind playing freely，kicking up a sandstorm.Boundless and as empty as ever，the desert was silent，under a sky of unknowable heights.The sky，too，was broad and empty，azure blue.The three suns slipped through the sky giving off prisms of light.This forgotten corner of the universe was where they were to spend the rest of their days.For all intents and purposes though，he thought，they were the ones who had been forgotten.
The captain also climbed the tower once to survey it，but he found nothing of interest in the empty meditation room.Now he was busy leading the others in the upkeep of the fence，where it seemed as if a sort of war had erupted between the men and the beast.At night it would attack and by day they would reinforce the structure.Eventually，a night crew was necessary to keep the wall maintained，as the beast’s attacks became ever more frenzied.Having bitten the weaker tree trunks in two and tore up the needle-tree net，it began to use its body to batter the fence，shaking the structure and causing those stationed on top to tremble with fear and forget the burning hunger in their stomachs.
The boiler tender was especially fond of this battle，having painted his face like an Indian brave and taking up a sharpened pole which he shoved through the chinks in the wall，stabbing wildly at the beast.Singing and dancing，his wild antics motivated the group.He was really quite brave.The others shouted along with him，weaving strong nets of pliable branches to fill the gaps，and backfilling the fence with heavy stones.Other gaps were filled using dirt，and the vines of an unknown alien plant were pressed into service to braid the wooden posts together，creating a firm and immovable barrier.
But they still hadn’t found any food.Others had begun to climb the tower to take a look for themselves，although they’re not many.To ascend a 100 meter tower for a starving man robbed of his strength was，after all，a terrible challenge.The professor was one of the weak ones，half dead from hunger，having passed out sixteen times on the way to the monastery，and treated himself twice for malaria.Upon arriving in at the top of the tower，the professor squinted his eyes tightly，and knowingly scanned the empty stone room.He even explored the viewing platform outside，but was powerless to mask the expression of disappointment on his face.He explained to the priest that it wasn’t that he didn’t believe the priest’s account of the empty tower，simply that he wanted to exorcise something of the gnawing sense of responsibility he bore for their plight.
After the professor descended from the tower，few others came to disturb the priest’s work.The priest was becoming more and more intrigued by the cavity in the middle of the chamber.He had read that the high priest of the reclusive sect had spent more than 1000 years on this very seat.Perhaps someone had become a Buddha and ascended to the heavens here.Out of boredom，he sat on the seat and attempted the famed meditation techniques of the reclusive sect.Due，most likely，to the perfect roundness of everything in the room，the priest felt immediately at ease and quickly slipped into a dream-like state，very nearly falling asleep.In his dream he heard the breathing of the beast，and saw his demonic yellow eyes，his claws coming within inches of the priest’s throat.
When he came to，the priest’s head was pounding and his mouth felt parched.It was probably due to his own imagination，but it seemed as if the mediation room was filled with the stench of the beast.Dizzy，he walked to the base of the tower where he was told that the previous evening the beast had finally broken in，killing three.Of them，they had managed to wrest the corpse of Ma Xiu from the beast’s grasp.Eighteen years old，Ma Xiu’s struggle to free himself from the maw of the beast had been as futile as a moth beating its wings.Fortunately though，the gap in the fence was small enough that the beast hadn’t had enough time to pull the corpse through to the other side before the captain could spring into action and take hold of Ma Xiu’s leg.Meanwhile，other members of the group fired on the beast from the top of the fence，stabbing it in the mouth and forehead with sharpened branches.Ma Xiu died not long.In the course of trying to pull him free they accidentally broke his neck.
When the suns rose the next morning，the beast took what remained of his plunder back with him.According to the professor，the sun was an enormous ultrasonic amplifier which interfered with the beast’s sense organs.
Ma Xiu’s funeral was relatively simple.Lying on the ground，his ragged clothing revealed his emaciated hips and bony chest.One arm had been bitten off by the beast.Looking like a roughhewn tree stump，the mangled flesh emerged from the sharp wound，his broken skin and muscle lying exposed on the earth.Looking upon that pale，tender white flesh，the eyes of the assembled men seemed to shine with a green light.As the priest was saying a prayer，a dark and unspeakable current passed through his unconscious mind.The men began to whisper among each other，perhaps taking a secret vote，and in the end they decided not to bury him.The captain just nodded，and the priest simply shut his eyes，not saying a word.
That day，they built a fire，and set a large pot above it.The fragrant aroma wafted in all directions from the square.Using the axes and saws they divided up the boy’s body.With a steady hand，the captain cut the flesh straight and true.The boy’s chest was split open like a melon.Beneath his withered flesh was a thin layer of yellow fat，speckled with red.After cutting through the cartilage between the ribs，the boy’s viscera slid out onto the ground like a pile of twisting red snakes.His organs and head were then placed into the pot to make a stew，while his four limbs and muscles were dried over the fire to be rationed for later.
Lining up to be served，they brought vessels of all kinds：glass bottles with tops knocked off，hats and plastic bags.Those who had eaten their leather shoes felt a certain amount of regret when the fragrant odors left their mouths filled with bitter bile.
Using a large ladle，the boiler tender stood with his pants held up by a grass cord，doing his best to carefully dole out an equal share to each man.This simple kind of equality was just about all his mind could handle at this point，and he ignored all other thoughts.People always end up envying practical people like this，because they always seem to find a way to stay happy until the bitter end.
Some were so excited that they began to vomit bile，gripping their plastic bags tightly.Despite the lack of salt or garlic，this bland，albeit sumptuous lunch was unthinkably extravagant.Although it is impossible to say for sure，but perhaps some of them said a silent prayer to the Lord，the one that thanks him for giving us food to eat.
That afternoon，they went to the fence with renewed enthusiasm.Given food，their energy was restored one-hundred fold，and they were filled with confidence.
The priest however，had not taken part.Hunger gnawed at his organs like spider chewing on a thread，but he did not take his share of the meat.
Truth be told，the captain was actually rather fond of the young priest.Handsome and charismatic，the priest had a sensitive face，white as sandstone and just as weak.The first time he had seen him，the captain had been convinced that he had seen the man somewhere before.In some distant place，obscured by the smoke and dust of time，he had already seen pale and slender young man just like the priest，who had been willing to sacrifice his own life to save others.He had met many young men like this，actually，while in the army，or in other places，and to the last he saw them swallowed up in the conflagrations of war.
“How could the Lord blame us for wanting to survive？”the captain pleaded.
“I understand，of course I understand，”said the priest，nodding his head.The captain had brought him some smoke-cured meat.The meat looked clean，and was cut into neat slices，thick with a dark aroma.They really had done an excellent job with the smoking.
“The way you’re acting，you’re making everybody uncomfortable，you know.They think that you’re judging them，”the captain urged him good naturedly，“Just take the meat，okay？”
“...I understand，”the priest replied，after obvious hesitation.In the end，however，he refused to take his share，and the captain sat，helpless，staring at the priest for a long while.
The priest continued to climb his tower，the tower that filled men with boundless desire.Even now he didn’t know what he hoped to find there，but strangely，he didn’t feel hungry.In the darkness the white stones gave off a gentle glow，the tiny crystals vibrating weakly.Was it possible that meditation had helped the members of the reclusive sect engage in fasting？Sitting in one of the shallow depressions，he traced the characters on the wall with his finger.The ancient pictures were like hieroglyphics which one could only try to understand.
For a fleeting moment a strange and terrible feeling of prescience suddenly overtook him.Although he did his best to take hold of the impression it left on him，the better to predict what was yet to come，it quickly passed.The bubble fish floated in the sky，their skin stretched taut，a transparent membrane like a bubble，now vermillion，now orange，now the blue of a clear lake，now flashing gold.
Despite strict rationing，the food was quickly devoured by the hungry men.Something was different from before，however，about the emaciated stick-and-bones men who patrolled the valley.Their cheekbones seemed higher somehow，and the hollows of their faces deeper.Their eyes swept the ground，unwilling to meet the gaze of the others，afraid of what they might find there.
They found themselves almost wishing for the beast to attack.But the fence held strong，and beast could only pace outside，breathing heavily.Like them，he had gone without food for several days now，and hunger revealed the lines of his ribcage through his withered fur.Studying the men behind the fence with bloodshot eyes，he was powerless.Turning suddenly，he disappeared.Most likely he was retreating and abandoning these men who no less hungry than he.The men behind the fence felt an indescribable sense of disappointment.
Two days later，the food had reached a critical point.The stronger members of the group led by example，stealing the bones of the dead boy，and breaking them open to devour the marrow inside.Even so，it wasn’t nearly enough food to save them.
The next morning the captain led a group to rebury Seoni.The previous night，someone had dug up his grave，hoping to pillage the corpse.His body，however，had long since begun to decay in the fierce heat，leaving behind a pile of hard to swallow rotten flesh.By daybreak，the fetid smell of his exhumed corpse had filled the valley.Lying on the red dirt of the grave，his eyes bulged like two big blue blisters，and dark splotches of rot sprouted there.His teeth emerged in a grimace，and owing to the contraction of the skin it looked as if he was smiling，with his eyebrows raised high in delight.Few among them were willing to criticize the atrocious act.Instead they simply dug a deeper pit and buried him a second time.The most regretful thing to themen who watched was seeing so many calories，amino acids，and protein rot and go to waste.
The others were not idle，however，having decided to try and eat the bracken fern trees.They cut one down and removed the spines from the bark，cutting them into fine slivers which they boiled over the fire.The stench produced was even worse than that of Seoni’s rotten corpse.Others，ignoring the warnings of the chemistry professor，attacked the bubble fish.When two diamond miners from Arcturus managed to spear one，its transparent stomach exploded，spraying ammonia gas into their eyes，blinding them.Their faces ruined，they lay by the fountain，moaning throughout the night.
The seemingly endless stairs of the tower left the priest feeling as if he was climbing a gigantic structure that ascended to heaven itself.God is eternal，all powerful，all knowing，and his compassion is freely given to all beings in existence，the priest thought.How could it be that an allpowerful being like God，with his boundless wisdom，could have become afraid when people of times past tried to build the tower of Babel？Where，after all，is heaven？Is it up？In this ever expanding universe of ours，is it still up？With every scientific advancement，at first it has always seemed as if religion was on the verge of being overthrown.Eventually，though，people always seem to find a way to compromise.Does this mean science will never be able to truly save humanity？
Only now，none of these questions were as important as the question of where they might go next to find food.
The priest reflected back on his memories of receiving communion for the first time，during mass.The bread and wine symbolized the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ.By eating and drinking Him，then we allowed Him to be one with us.His belt was old and tough，impossible to chew，but he managed to cut it into smaller pieces，which he swallowed one by one after soaking them in his saliva.Kronos ate his children，the cyclops roasted the companions of Odysseus，Zhang Xun cut up his concubine and fed her to his soldiers during the siege of Suiyang，and Count Ugolino ate his own flesh and blood in a high tower—in history，people have long since eaten one another，and even today they are still eating one another.Masses of bubble fish floated outside the tower watching him，as if the sky outside the narrow window was an enormous fish tank.
The stench lingered in the valley.
After the two miners died，and the would-be hunters became prey for the others.This was the banquet that the men of the valley had been waiting for.A great fire was lit，and the water in the pot was brought to a frothy boil.Drawing strength from the self-sacrificing spirit of the two minors，they managed to survive for another week，but rescue seemed to be just as distant as before.Miraculously，the priest managed to survive，finding the tubers that the professor had given him to have boundless applications，with a single slice providing him sufficient calories to last a great while.The professor himself had become thin and emaciated，his eyes bloodshot.A slight breeze was enough to bring him to the ground，but his spirits remained strong，and his complexion unusually ruddy.Drinking water non-stop，a row of blisters had sprouted on his cracked lips.This was most likely a side effect of the treatments he had given himself for malaria.
It had been a long time since anyone had worked on the fence.It was not until the call of the beast was heard within the valley that they became aware that a small hole had once again been dug in the barrier.This time，instead of being afraid，they struck back at the beast under the leadership of the captain，the flames of victory leaving them feverish.Using shovels，sticks，knives，even their fingernails and teeth，they managed to snatch a corpse from the mouth of the beast，which had been made weak from hunger.
When the captain managed to use a knife to chop a leg free from mouth of the beast he felt like he was finally in control of the situation again.In the past he had had times of hesitation，he had had times of confusion，even fear.His training had taught him to feel ashamed of such emotions—but everything was better now.Now that he knew the path forward，he was no longer worried about anything，because he knew that he would survive to be rescued.Happiness clouded his brain，and as he watched the beast scurry through the hole in the fence，he held the hairy leg of the chemistry professor in one hand，laughing.
He soon realized that the priest was standing nearby，watching him，with his skull-like face twisted up in pain.The captain immediately straightened up and stopped laughing.Anger toward the priest bubbled up，unbidden.what right does he have to look at me like that？When survival is on the line，what’s the point of having convictions？Believer or non-believer，when disaster strikes it doesn’t make a difference either way.The captain began to hack away at the professor’s leg，methodically chopping and slicing，wastefully letting bits of meat fall to the ground.Without checking with the others，he could already tell that they all found the priest’s behavior infuriating.
Even after rinsing the remains of the professor in the fountain，the smell of herbal medicine lingered on his corpse and after a long time they gave up trying.The smell had permeated all the way down into the muscle and bone，making him taste especially delicious.The slender，half-mauled corpse of the professor barely lasted them a single night before every last bit was eaten up.They’d barely had a chance to taste him，but now they were hungry again，and needed more food.
The priest sat cross-legged in the cavity.His awareness spread outwards，encompassing the shining white crystals which surrounded him，countless as grains of sand in the mighty Ganges.Vibrating，resonating，the sound was as vast as it was miniscule，like the sound of silkworms chewing mulberry，or rain falling on the broad leaves of the plantain.A stream of information as expansive as the universe flowed through the room，passing through the arch of the hothouse-like structure and directly into his brain.Images from his childhood flashed in his mind，and then more images，of the distant past，of things he had never experienced.What is the origin of desire？Vibrations，vibrations，like wing-beat of a butterfly.The world is an illusion，a white haired man said to him.I dreamed of a butterfly，but only the butterfly is real.
Upon opening his eyes，the priest was greeted with the sight of a butterfly，its wings patterned in black and red.The butterfly was of a sort found only on Earth，as it passed through one of the narrow windows，the early morning light caught the gold in its wings，sending arcs of light off into void.
Could it be that I’m hallucinating？In a flash，the realization of what had just happened coursed throughout his body and he became extremely frightened.Most likely this was a dream within a dream，an illusion within an illusion.He simply imagined that he was hallucinating.The fear，however，was fleeting.What did it matter if the world was an illusion？An illusion of an illusion was nothing more than an illusion.Looking up at the paintings on the wall，he realized he could read them as if they were text：
The Buddha said to his disciple Subhūti：All that has form is an illusion.[Line from the Diamond Sutra]
If this was true，then things with form could also emerge from illusion.Dear god，is it really possible？The priest closed his eyes.Could the world really like be like the ancient story of the’golden millet dream’？Are we all just poor innkeepers dreaming of becoming of becoming men of wealth and power？He began to imagine a freshly baked bun，yellow and piping hot.A piercing pain racked his brain as his mind resonated with the crystals around him.Upon opening his eyes，the priest discovered that a bun really had appeared，complete with toasted sesame seeds on top，and a curlicue of steam spiraling above it.
Tears sprang forth from his withered eye sockets，falling one at a time.The imagined bun was edible and filling.I found food！This is the secret of the reclusive sect.In the past I thought that forsaking desire was the path to eliminating desire.I was wrong，though.Is there anything that better demonstrates the suffering caused by desire better than having all of one’s desire fulfilled？
He left the bun on the ground to let it cool.Feeling as if his head was full of buzzing stars，he wondered if this was miracle or science，to have a planet filled with vibrations.As Plato once asked，what is thought and what is matter？I should have realized sooner that thought is a kind of vibration，the synaptic spark which passes between neurons.The unique structure and materials of this tower，even the planet itself，serve to amplify the power of thought.With only faith and imagination，and we can create a whole new world for ourselves.
Enduring an intense headache，the priest constructed a communicator in his mind.As the image became clearer and clearer，it emerged as if from the mist，suddenly landed on the floor of the room with a piercing sound，a real，fresh sound，sending out a blue light which pierced his brain like a knife.With feverish hands he stroked the device before deciding to go down to find the others，who knew better than he how to use it.Even better，now they could use meditation and faith to get food.He stood up，staggering，and almost fell back down.His prolonged meditation had left him impossibly weak.
The communicator was too heavy.There was simply no way for him to carry the eighty-pound device down some six-hundred steps.He crawled to the steps and began to slowly make his way down the winding stairwell.
A soft breeze wafted through the air.The others stood around the pot in the square.The fire blazed and the water was already boiling hot，but they hadn’t even decided who was going to die yet.The priest rushed forward to tell the captain that he had completed his task.Food！I found food！All we need to have is faith，and we will have salvation.It was so simple，hallelujah！
They others formed a semi-circle around the priest，like a choir in church.They looked at him kindly.Far above them in the sky，He who had sacrificed himself observed the scene with compassion.The captain stood in middle of the group.From the corner of his eye，the priest saw the boiler tender drawing close，carrying an iron mace fashioned from a shovel.Standing stiffly erect，the priest became aware that he was on trial.Taking advantage of his last chance，he raised his hand and pointed upwards，beginning to say in a raw voice，“I’ve discovered…”
The words were cut short by a heavy blow to the back of his head.His last conscious impressions were the sound of boiling water，the white teeth of the men，the fish swimming through the air，and the beast roaring in the distance，as if beckoning him with a bugle call.
Above it all，the high hunger tower pierced the sky.
Security Check
by Han Song，translated by Ken Liu
1
My wife and I are celebrating our twentieth anniversary today.After work，I walk to the mall and pick out a necklace for her；then I walk to the subway station in the mall to take the train home.
Subway stations are everywhere in New York City，and I do mean everywhere.The lines connect the most expensive neighborhoods with the poorest slums，and stations can be found in every shopping center，office building，theater，restaurant，nightclub，bar，church…
A group of security agents，dressed in black uniforms with red armbands，are stationed at the entrance.They stand with their arms held behind their backs，their feet planted firmly apart，and survey the crowd with cold gazes.I try to go by them nonchalantly，but my legs start going rubbery as soon as I meet their gaze.I take off my jacket without prompting and place it—the necklace nestled in a pocket—and my briefcase into the yawning，dark maw of the x-ray machine.
After the security check，they place a“safe”sticker on my chest.
Dazed and numb，I get on the subway.All the other passengers are also wearing“safe”stickers.Preoccupied，none of us say a word.
We’re at my stop.I walk home.My wife is already there.Trembling，I take out the necklace and hand it to her.She forces a smile and tries the necklace once before putting it away.We eat dinner in silence，as is our habit.And then we go to bed，laying back to back，both of us quickly falling asleep.
We first met twenty years ago，also at a subway stop.Back then，everything was falling apart，and lawlessness reigned.One day，someone shouted that a killer was slashing at people in the subway，and we all panicked and stampeded.A woman in front of me fell；I rushed to help her up…
Later，she said to me，“No matter how chaotic the world becomes，as long as you’re with me，I’ll feel safe.”
Twenty years have passed，and life has been rendered one hundred percent safe，cleansed of all risks，dangers，and perils.It seems we’re left with nothing.
2
The loudspeakers installed in our neighborhood wake me up at four in the morning by blaring out the security briefing for the day.Only half awake，I fumble for my phone.
Old habits die hard.Phones have been abandoned a long time ago，after all the telecom companies ceased operations and the Internet was cut off.All of it had been done to make us safe.
My wife and I get up and leave separately to take the subway to work.She’s not wearing the necklace I gave her，and I pretend not to notice.
I walk by myself quietly.Under the dim streetlamps，pedestrians on the sidewalk scurry like a dull，gray swarm of rats，each clutching a briefcase，completely silent.Soon，I reach the station，where long lines of people wait to enter.Although advancing technology has sped up security checks，there are just too many people who must be processed.In this day and age，the subway is the only means of transportation left in the United States of America，all other modes having been outlawed.
More than an hour later，I finally reach the x-ray machine.Once again，I clench my teeth，and，though I’m fantasizing striding into the stationright past the security checkpoint，I do not even try to step out of line.One time，I did see someone try that stunt，and the security agents had seized him right away and dragged him into a small cell next to the platform where they beat him to death as we all listened.
The train arrives in Manhattan.From the station I enter the office building through a tunnel.One by one，my colleagues arrive，their faces numb with exhaustion.How many of them have entertained the same fantasy of getting on the subway without going through security check？
In the restroom，Hoffman whispers to me，“Did you try it today？”
I shake my head.“Why do we suffer from this peculiar yearning？”
“Freedom.”
Every time Hoffman utters the word it sounds strange and chilling，even though I’ve heard it countless times.
He continues，“I want to live a life in which I am trusted，not watched and controlled…what about you，Louis？”
“I want to give my wife a gift.We’ve been married for twenty years.”Once again，I feel terrible.I ask，“When would I ever get a chance to give her a gift that hasn’t been changed？”
“Women don’t care about that，”Hoffman says，he means to comfort me.“She knows you’ve done your best.”
“No，she does care.If we keep on going like this，we’re headed for divorce.She and I don’t live in a vacuum.The bond between us—the bond between everyone—requires the sustenance of the ordinary objects of daily life.But whatever we buy ends up passing through the security checkpoints：the food we eat，the water we drink，cups，books，televisions，refrigerators，computers，the bed we sleep on，even wedding bands and condoms…you understand.”Tears crawl down my face.
One time，Hoffman told me that the machine they use at security checkpoints isn’t really an x-ray machine.The government confiscates everything you put in；whatever emerges from the machine may look indistinguishable from what went in，but it has in fact been reconstituted.Atom by atom，the new objects are assembled，printed，and returned to the passenger.The process takes but an instant because our technology is so advanced.The new objects conform perfectly to the new American national security standards，with all elements deemed dangerous removed.If the objects contained any gasoline，it would be turned into water；if there were a gun，the bullets would be turned into rubber；if a computer contained harmful knowledge，it would be deleted and replaced with sanitized information.
Hoffman and I both dream of a day when we could ride the subway without going through security checks，but every time we tried to realize the dream，at the last minute，both of us would lose our courage and our legs would turn to rubber.
One time，Hoffman told me that some people did enter the subway without being checked.
“I saw it with my own eyes.One morning，a woman in front of me walked right past the security agents with her purse，bold as you please.The agents stood frozen in place like mannequins.”
“How was that possible？I saw someone try to do the same thing，but he was beaten to death right then and there，”I said.Was Hoffman hallucinating？
“It was true，”Hoffman said solemnly.
“What sort of woman was she？”
“I only saw that she was young and beautiful.After she went through，she looked back at all of us standing in line and smiled triumphantly.”Hoffman clicked his tongue in admiration.
“She must have used magic.”
“Magic，indeed.Perhaps an invisibility cloak…or some machine that jammed electromagnetic waves？”
3
I can’t remember much about the way things were twenty years ago，only that the country was very unsafe back then.I’ve watched special educational documentaries：the terrible explosions，gunshots，slashing knives，protest marches，petitions to the government，conflicts…everyone lived in terror，thinking danger was around every corner.Several times，a random shout or even a single shocked facial expression was enough to cause the crowd on Fifth Avenue to panic and stampede，trampling and injuring hundreds.Security threats were everywhere，as were hidden enemies.The 911 call centers were constantly swamped.
The White House had to mobilize a great deal of resources to enhance and expand the security system.The federal government took the lead，but the big companies on Wall Street and in Silicon Valley all participated.Through a public-private partnership，they invested money and technology to rebuild the entire city’s infrastructure into a system of security checkpoints.This was extremely important：buffeted by civil unrest and foreign threats，America was sliding down from its peak.It was no longer the hegemon of the world.
Those old enough to remember say that the nation almost collapsed overnight，barely avoided the fate of becoming a ward under the guardianship of those Chinese coming from over the Pacific.Thank God for the subway，for the security checks.They saved America.
Not only does the system guarantee safety，but the government is also able to gather all information contained in the objects taken onto the subway by passengers.Now，no one dares to make trouble.Even corruption has been eliminated—not just corruption，but also anything else destabilizing.Even so，the substitution of objects in the machines continues each day.The country still feels insecure.Security and insecurity，the two concepts were sometimes different，but often the same.
Hoffman tells me that this is fighting terror with terror.The terror produced by the security check mechanism is even more terrible，sufficiently powerful to shatter all other terrors.The price we pay is freedom.
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