Earth Afire

It was true. It was about to get ugly. Bingwen had to do something fast. “Hop, we need to get on the roof of the library.”

 

 

Hopper gave him a mischievous grin. “I don’t know what you have in mind, but I like it already.”

 

Bingwen lowered himself to the ground, and Hopper followed. They ran around the crowd to the back of the library. There were no doors or windows in the back, just a smooth stucco wall.

 

“No way to get to the roof,” said Hopper. “Nothing to climb. I could give you a boost, but the roof is four meters up.”

 

Bingwen was hardly paying attention. He had run past Hopper to a stretch of tall grass behind the building. The bamboo ladder was right where he had left it, anchored to the ground with two hooked stakes. Even if someone had stood right where Bingwen was standing, they likely wouldn’t have seen the ladder; it was too well concealed beneath the thick net of grass and undergrowth. Bingwen lifted it free of the stakes and dragged it toward the back of the building.

 

Hopper blinked. “What is that?”

 

“A ladder.”

 

“Obviously. Where did it come from?”

 

“I made it.”

 

“When?”

 

“About a year ago.”

 

“And when were you going to tell me about it?”

 

Bingwen gestured with his hand. “Hopper, I’d like you to meet my ladder. Ladder, Hopper.”

 

“Very funny. You mean to tell me you’ve been sneaking into the library for a year now?”

 

“A few years actually,” said Bingwen. “This is the third ladder I’ve made.”

 

Bingwen leaned the ladder against the lip of the roof, placing the bamboo poles neatly into the two small grooves on the roof he had chiseled out for that purpose. He gave the ladder a tentative shake to determine it was steady, then gestured to the lowest rung. “After you.”

 

Hopper shook his head. “A few years? Why am I not surprised?” He climbed the ladder, and Bingwen followed.

 

The top of the roof was flat. Bingwen pulled up the ladder and laid it to the side.

 

“This is why you ace all the practice tests,” said Hopper. “You’ve been cheating for years.”

 

“I don’t cheat,” said Bingwen. “I study more.”

 

“When?”

 

“Three or four in the morning most days. You’d love it. It’s very quiet.”

 

“That explains how you learned English.”

 

“What did you think, Hop, that I could pick up English during the paltry hours of study they give us? It’s the most backwards language in the world.”

 

“Stop using words like ‘paltry.’ You’re only making me feel dumber.”

 

Bingwen smiled and put a hand on Hopper’s shoulder. “You’re not dumb, Hop. You’re smart. I study more because I have to. I don’t grasp concepts as quickly as you do.”

 

Hopper folded his arms and scowled. “You’re only trying to make me feel better.”

 

Bingwen made scissors with his fingers and snipped the air. “Let’s cut this wonderful bonding moment short and get inside, shall we?”

 

Bingwen hurried to a spinning, bulbous air vent. He knelt beside it and peeled away the rubber skirt around the vent’s base. Then he wrapped his arms around the base, twisted, and lifted. The vent came free easily, leaving a gaping hole in the roof.

 

“How did you lift that thing when you first started coming up here?” asked Hopper. “Your arms weren’t long enough to wrap around the thing.”

 

“Pulley system,” said Bingwen. “Little rope, little bamboo, lot of work. Believe me, this is much easier.”

 

Hopper shook his head again. “Unbelievable.”

 

Bingwen set the vent aside.

 

Hopper leaned forward and peered into the hole. “It’s a four-meter drop to the floor. How are we managing that? No, let me guess. Winches and scaffolding made from rice shoots and bubblegum?”

 

Bingwen grinned. “Hopper. We have a ladder.”

 

Hopper flushed. “Right.”

 

They retrieved the ladder, lowered it into the hole, and shimmied down. They were in the southwest corner of the building, obscured from the rest of the library by tall shelves of books.

 

Bingwen could hear voices.

 

“Now what?” whispered Hopper.

 

Bingwen crept forward to the end of the shelf and looked down the aisle. The front door was barred, and Ms. Yí was inside now, seated at a terminal, flanked by two of her assistants, watching the news feed.

 

“That mud sucker,” said Hopper. “She gets to watch the feed and we don’t?”

 

“Follow me,” said Bingwen.

 

They crept along the back wall to the main office. Bingwen pulled back a corner of carpet and took out a concealed access card.

 

“I’m not even going to ask how you got that,” said Hopper.

 

Bingwen opened the door, rehid the card, and they went inside. The projector and antenna box were in a cabinet. “Hold out your arms,” said Bingwen. Hopper obeyed, and Bingwen loaded Hopper’s arms with both devices. The amp and speaker were in a drawer in the back. Bingwen slid them into his pocket and motioned for Hopper to follow him out.

 

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