After dark, the temperature dropped and the wind kept blowing. Banxia emerged from the building entrance, pulling up her hoodie’s collar.
Standing at the doorway, she looked up at the sky—it was rather gloomy, with no moon visible.
Walking from Meihua Villa to the Zitai Office Building would take about three hours. Command recommended she take route two, avoiding the Xinjiekou area as much as possible. Route two meant following Zhongshan East Road to Yixian Bridge, then turning right onto Longpan Middle Road heading north, turning left at Beijing East Road, and continuing straight to the Zitai Office Building near Gulou Park—about eight or nine kilometers total.
These were all straight major roads—Command’s requirement. Routes needed to be as simple as possible, firstly because it was easy to get lost on complex paths in the darkness, and secondly because small paths were unsafe in the jungle state. 2040 had the highest vegetation coverage rate since Nanjing’s founding. Viewed from above, it was practically a city growing in a jungle. Even before the big eye appeared, it was already fraught with danger.
“Miss, this is Command. Have you departed? OVER.”
“I’ve departed.” Banxia hung the handheld radio on her backpack strap, gripping a flashlight. She turned to close the electric fence gate. “Will contact in five minutes.”
Checking in every five minutes was their agreed communication frequency. Banxia needed to report continuously for Command to track her exact location.
Meanwhile, Command was also predicting the big eye’s position.
At 18:41 this afternoon, the big eye’s exact location was on the Xinbai Building’s roof, but being mobile, it wouldn’t stay there indefinitely. According to telemetry satellite estimates, the Big Eye’s duration on building rooftops varied between ten and fifty minutes.
The longer time passed, the higher the probability of the big eye moving.
The computer team had an estimation algorithm. They believed within twenty minutes, the big eye’s range could be limited to a one-kilometer radius circle centered on Xinjiekou. Within sixty minutes, its range could be limited to a two-kilometer radius circle centered on Xinjiekou. After sixty minutes, its range became completely unpredictable.
And from Xinjiekou to Yixian Bridge was exactly two kilometers.
“In other words, Miss, you must reach Yixian Bridge within forty minutes, then head north along Longpan Middle Road,” Baiyang said. “Can you make it there in forty minutes? OVER.”
“Yixian Bridge… where’s Yixian Bridge?”
Banxia ran with her backpack, tilting her head to press the radio’s PTT button.
“By the Panda Group, OVER.”
“Where’s the Panda Group?”
Baiyang scratched his head.
“It’s a bridge, you’ll know when you see it. There’s water flowing underneath. It’s the only bridge you’ll encounter. Remember, turn right when you reach the bridge, got it? OVER.”
“Okay, I remember—turn right at the bridge.” Banxia nodded. “How far is the bridge from me?”
“Three kilometers.”
“Then forty minutes is enough.”
Banxia was finding her way in the dark when something tripped her. “Ah!” she stumbled. Looking back, it turned out to be a rock-hard pile of dried cow dung.
The teacher had said not to go out when the twin moons rise, but tonight not even one moon was visible.
The wind outside was strong, howling against the radio’s microphone. The intense wind noise made Baiyang feel like she wasn’t in Nanjing City but at Everest Base Camp.
The only advantage of winter was fewer flies and mosquitoes. Reptiles and arthropods were highly sensitive to temperature changes—they all became sluggish when temperatures dropped. Most lethal creatures in Nanjing belonged to these two categories. Without medicines and antiserums, a snake bite meant certain death.
“BG, it’s so dark outside,” Banxia said. “But I dare not use my flashlight… I think I might be near Minggugong—I can see the crashed fighter jet behind the gate.”
“Good, do you need to rest?”
“No need, my energy is still high!”
Banxia bounced a little.
“Alright, Miss, stay alert at all times, OVER.” After speaking, Baiyang removed his headphones and called out to those outside: “Minggugong!”
“Minggugong.” Old Zhao repeated, pressing his walkie-talkie.
He had many maps before him—modern Nanjing, future Nanjing, flat and three-dimensional—all spread across huge displays. A thick blue line started from Meihua Villa, following roads to Gulou Park—this was the girl’s planned route. Currently, BG4MSR’s position is marked at the Minggugong ruins.
To the north on the map were two huge red circles, the larger encompassing the smaller, both centered on Xinjiekou. These were the Big Eye’s estimated activity ranges. The one-kilometer diameter circle was darker, and the two-kilometer circle was lighter. The computer team currently believed the big eye was active within this large circle, which covered a full 13 square kilometers.
The computer team repeatedly warned Zhao Bowen that as time passed, predicting the big eye’s range would become increasingly difficult. One hour after the telemetry satellite confirmed its position, they wouldn’t be able to provide a safe range anymore.
“With so many tall buildings in Xinjiekou, hopefully, it’ll be tempted to linger there longer,” Bai Zhen said. “The Guojin Center, World Trade Center, Xinhua Building—it can tour them all. Why rush to leave?”
“North from Xinjiekou, where might it stop?” Old Zhao asked.
“North from Xinjiekou, next stop could be Junlin International and Golden Eagle area.” Wang Ning circled an area with his hand. “South, it could go to Bank of China, Construction Bank, but it’s hard to say—there are too many tall buildings there.”
“Using the Inner Ring East Line as a boundary, there are many more skyscrapers beyond that line—Life Insurance, Shangmao Century, New Century Plaza, they’re all over there, all skyscrapers.” Bai Zhen sat typing at the edge. “If we could still use satellites it’d be convenient—one satellite sweep would make everything clear.”
“Even with satellites, it’d only pass by once every hour or so, and it can only see the big eye, not people,” Wang Ning reminded. “Satellites wouldn’t help much anyway.”
Old Zhao pressed his brow forcefully.
“To be honest, that remote communication system of hers hasn’t been tested at distances as far as Gulou Park. Can that thing hold up?” Bai Zhen suddenly remembered. “What if she loses contact halfway?”
“What can we do?” Wang Ning spread his hands. “Resources are limited, we have to make do. It’s all about luck.”
“Does she know where the First Base entrance is?” Bai Zhen asked.
“Yes.” Zhao Bowen said.
“Where is it?” both Old Bai and Old Wang asked.
“Can’t tell you.” Old Zhao glanced at them.
“As deputy leader, I don’t have the right to know?” Bai Zhen was dissatisfied.
“No.” Zhao Bowen said. “Your son knows—if you can, get Yangyang to tell you.”
Bai Zhen snorted but said nothing more.
The First Base entrance was under a manhole cover—this much Baiyang knew and had told the girl. But even he didn’t know which cover.
Even the construction team didn’t know which manhole was the correct passage. During construction, they dug six identical deep shafts. After construction, all six shafts were simultaneously filled with concrete and sealed.
But this wasn’t the truth. Only a very few people knew that one shaft wasn’t truly sealed—it was the only passage into the First Base. But which shaft it was, truly no one knew.
Because it was randomly selected by machine.
“That’ll be quite troublesome to find.” Bai Zhen said.
“When we set thresholds for this world, we were also setting them for ourselves,” Zhao Bowen said. “Resisting this world’s intervention—how could that be easy?”