Once We Lived in Nanjing

Early in the morning, Bai Yang was dragged out of bed by his mom to accompany Lian Qiao for a five-kilometer run. With so much practice, Bai Yang had mastered the skill of running while half-asleep. Humans can't alternate activity and rest between hemispheres like dolphins, but Bai Yang could enter a state of mental blankness while running, unrecognizable to even his own kin.

He changed his shoes, sleepily opened the door, and before he could step out, a group of burly men in blue rushed in.

"Good morning," the man leading the group greeted in a rough tone.

"Hey, hey, who are... who are you guys?"

Bai Yang was startled, the sleepiness nearly gone.

The group paid him no heed and swarmed into the living room, carrying tool boxes, bundles of silver metal wire, putty powder, buckets of paint, and even stacking up a pile of heavy tiles... their heavy, high boots soiled the freshly mopped floor with black footprints.

It then dawned on Bai Yang what sort of people they were; he thought to himself, why change into civilian clothes but not the boots?

It's rare to see a group all wearing military-style buzz cuts and type 07 combat boots.

"Are you here already? So early, ah hello, Captain Huang, hello." Dad peeked out from his room, still in his pajamas, and came over with a clatter of his slippers to shake hands, "Did you bring all the materials?"

"We brought everything, Chief Bai," Captain Wang patted the red toolbox in his hand and pointed to the materials carried by his team members, "Is Director Zhao back yet?"

"Not yet, he went to the provincial committee meeting last night and hasn't returned; he's probably sleeping there," replied Bai Zhen, "Let's not delay, let's start the work."

Bai Yang stood aside, confused.

The construction team headed straight for Bai Yang's bedroom; four burly men crowded into the small room. They moved out chairs, bedding, backpacks, books from the shelf, and all the movable items to a corner of the living room. They covered the immovable objects with clear plastic, securely wrapping them.

"What… what's going on here?"

"Construction," Bai Zhen said. "Why aren't you out running yet? Lian Qiao is waiting for you downstairs. Aren't you supposed to go to the Zitai Office Building and Mochou Lake Subway Station this morning?"

"Oh oh oh," Bai Yang glanced back three times with each step and went downstairs.

The construction team laid plastic sheets on the floors, desks, and shelves, then started stripping the wallpaper. After that, they marked grids on the bricks with an oil pen and drove expansion screws into the grids. They closed the door and hammered away fiercely.

Occasionally, a strong man carrying a hammer and chisel would come out and fetch materials piled in the hallway.

What is going on here?

They are building a safety house.

The construction team brought thick silver-plated copper wire and 4-mm-thick lead sheets (which Bai Yang thought were tiles), and even pale yellow lead-infused radiation-resistant glass. They tightly laid the lead sheets on the north and west walls and the ceiling, fitting them together without gaps. They then lined the internal walls of the room with silver-plated copper wire, creating a grid—clearly, the lead sheets were for radiation shielding and the copper wire was to create a Faraday cage.

Despite assurances from the Zhonghe Industry workgroup that this nuclear bomb was specifically designed to optimize against radiation and radioactive contamination—reducing radiation levels to 0.01 Sv three kilometers from the epicenter and naturally decreasing to 1% of the initial radiation level in the air of the contaminated area within twenty-four hours of the explosion, implying that Meihua Villa would only have a radiation level of 0.1 mSv in the air after a day, less than undergoing a single CT scan at a hospital.

The expert from the workgroup reassured everyone, saying our Miss Qiu is very clean; back in the day, the Soviet Union used a nuclear bomb to destroy a water reservoir and the head of their Atomic Energy Department was the first to jump in for a swim.

Still, the command center was not reassured. Old Wang remarked that while the data might indicate it's less than a CT scan, one can't stay in a hospital getting CTs every day.

A constant exposure to 0.1 mSv of radiation is like standing in front of an X-ray machine every day getting chest X-rays; it might not be lethal in the short-term, but long-term effects are another story.

The young members of the nuclear task force murmured, questioning if there would even be a long-term to worry about?

Wang Ning lost temper and was ready to fight.

It took both Old Bai and Old Zhao to hold him back.

Thus, the command center planned to convert Bai Yang's bedroom into a safety house, capable of shielding against radiation and electromagnetic pulses, to prevent the nuclear explosion from destroying the Icom725 radio. At his advanced age, Old Gen couldn't withstand the ordeal of nuclear weapons; an electromagnetic pulse could scramble all the internal circuits.

So they laid silver-plated copper wires along the walls to create a Faraday cage to protect the radio from nuclear explosions.

After setting up the radiation-shielding walls and the Faraday cage, the construction team plastered the walls with cement, applied putty, and the bricklayers handled their tasks with skilled mastery, which Bai Zhen praised as "twenty years of plastering prowess," using specially formulated cement and putty mixed with barium sulfate. Finally, the construction team removed the window glass and replaced it with lead glass.

After all this was done, they rolled up the plastic tarps on the floor, taking all the trash away.

Clean and neat.

"Oh... Captain Huang, you've done a very good job, very efficient."

Zhao Bowen peeked in and saw that Bai Yang's bedroom looked just as it used to be, only the walls and ceiling were completely renewed, as if redecorated.

"Director Zhao, you're back."

"Just returned from the provincial meeting, after an overnight and a morning session," Zhao Bowen yawned. "Been dizzy busy these days..."

"Do you need to retrofit the living room and other areas?"

Old Zhao turned his head to look at the living room cluttered with files and computers, and shook his head:

"Forget it, it's not suitable here for large-scale work. Refurbishing the living room won't be finished by tomorrow. Just retrofitting the bedroom to secure the radio is good enough, you've completed your task."

"Then we'll go back and report."

Captain Huang snapped to attention and saluted.

The construction team filed out, and the last person even mopped the floor.

Approaching noon, Bai Yang returned to find his room seemed altered—actually nothing was moved, only the walls were cleaned.

"Is it tomorrow?"

"Yes, Miss, the spacecraft will launch tomorrow and will also return tomorrow, landing near your, uh, our house. OVER."

"Will it land?"

The girl was a bit surprised.

"Of course, it will land. How else would we deliver the nuclear weapons into your hands?" Bai Yang explained, "There will be a large re-entry capsule landing. When it lands, the retro rockets will fire with a bang, quite spectacular. Ms. Qiu will be sitting inside it. Just pick it up after it lands, OVER."

"BG... it... it won't hit me, will it?"

The girl was a bit worried.

Bai Yang was stunned, having never considered this, but after giving it some thought, it seemed possible, as human-carrying spacecraft usually landed in Inner Mongolia where population was sparse. No spacecraft had ever landed in Nanjing City Center, so he took off his headset and turned to shout, "Dad—! She's asking if the spacecraft might hit her, is that possible?"

"Yes—!" Dad replied.

"What?" Bai Yang was startled. "What should we do then?"

"What else can we do? Be sharp, just stay away when you see it landing. The rest is up to the Buddha and Bodhisattva. Your Uncle Wang has already gone to Qixia Temple to offer prayers."