When they reached the ladder, Hopper said, “So you get the light stuff, and I get the heavy stuff?”
Bingwen put a finger to his lips, took the antenna box, and scaled the ladder. When they both reached the top, Bingwen pulled up the ladder and resealed the hole.
“If you had told me theft was your plan from the beginning,” said Hopper, “I could have saved us both a little jail time by telling you what a yak’s ass of an idea this is.”
“Not stealing,” said Bingwen. “This equipment will never leave the library.” He carried everything over to the opposite side of the roof above the front door. Most of the crowd was still present, but they had calmed and were sitting in small groups along the village staircase or in the few patches of grass, conversing quietly and waiting for the librarian to bring them news. No one noticed Bingwen setting up the equipment.
It took him only a moment. When it was ready, he popped the lens cap, and the news feed projected onto the side of the house opposite the library. A reporter was standing in the streets of Beijing. Thousands of people were behind him, all of them watching the massive screens on the sides of buildings. The screens all showed live images of a red ship shaped like a giant teardrop.
Below Bingwen, someone shouted and pointed to the projection. “Look!”
The voice of the street reporter boomed from the speaker. Bingwen adjusted the volume, and the crowd of villagers quickly congregated in front of the house. Several of them applauded and whistled and briefly shined their lights up to the roof to see who had done them the favor. Hopper was standing at the roof’s edge, chest out, waving to the crowd like a general returning from war.
Bingwen caught site of Grandfather, who gave him a wink.
“… tens of thousands of people have taken to the streets,” the reporter said. “All of them here to see and experience this historic event together. I’ve stopped several people, and their feelings span the emotional spectrum. Some told me they’re afraid, that the destruction of mining ships in the Belt troubles them deeply…”
The reporter prattled on.
“Are you frightened, Bingwen?” Hopper asked.
They were sitting beside each other on the roof now, hugging their knees tight to their chests to stay warm in the chilled night air.
Bingwen made a slight adjustment on the speaker in front of him so that the sound in their direction lessened but that the audio for those below remained the same.
“Aren’t you?” Bingwen asked.
“I’d never say so to my father or to Meilin … but I have dreams now. Nightmares. My mother says I scream at night. The dream is so real. It’s right there in my room, standing over me.”
“The creature?”
Hopper nodded. “Only it’s not wearing a compression suit. It’s not wearing anything. It just stands there, looking down at me.” He looked skyward, as if he could see the ship beyond the blackness.
“It’s a dream, Hop. I have them, too.”
Hopper turned, surprised.
“A lot of people do,” said Bingwen. “Even my father. He had to splash water in his face the other night and sit by the fire. Couldn’t go back to sleep. I’d never seen him like that. But they’re dreams, Hop. That’s all they’ll be. That ship looks big in the projection, but the world is much bigger. Twelve billion people strong. Whatever the creatures are, they won’t touch us here.”
“You don’t believe that. You’ve been stockpiling supplies. You’ve been preparing for the worst. You told me to expect the worst.”
It was true. Bingwen had been scrambling ever since Yanyu sent him the vid. And he’d been telling Hopper to do the same. But gloom and doom wasn’t what Hopper needed to hear now. The time for prep was over. All they could do now was stay even keeled and alert.
“It’s food storage,” said Bingwen. “I’m playing it safe. I mostly do it in case supplies run short and the trucks don’t come. Grandfather and I have a lot, we’ll share.”
“You’re only trying to make me feel better again,” said Hopper.
“You’re right,” said Bingwen. “I take back everything I’ve said today, especially the part about you being smart.” Then he gave Hopper his toothiest grin.
Hopper rolled his eyes and shoved Bingwen lightly on the shoulder.
The shouting below startled them both.
“Stop!” Ms. Yí stormed out of the building, waving her arms. “Stop!” She ran in front of the projection and faced the crowd. “You can’t do this. All of you, go home!” She pointed a finger up at Bingwen. “You little rat, you put everything back.”
Someone threw a shoe. The light from the projection was in Ms. Yí’s eyes, so she only recoiled at the last moment. The shoe lightly bounced off her chest, but Ms. Yí squealed as if it had taken off her arm. Several people laughed.
“Go back inside,” someone yelled.
“Leave us alone.”
“Get out of the light.”