Real Name and Surname - The Best Chinese Science Fiction Short Stories from the UK and the US

Author: Yao Haijun
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-02-01
Features:
Cleon stood at the edge of the forest, gazing at the azure bay. A massive three-deck galley warship lay submerged in the sea, blazing with fierce flames. The smoke crackled and shot up into the tropical sun, the surging flames licking the stern, and in the end, a roaring fire engulfed Poseidon, towering at the bow, devouring his wooden beard and sharp trident. As the charred, disfigured god swayed and plunged into the sea, Cleon bowed his head, reciting the classical prayers of Homer. It was an omen, foretelling that he would never see his homeland's ivy and tangled olive trees again, never sit down with the philosophers, and never hear the divine Alexander shouting in Macedonian as he charged the Persian army. The embers gradually died down, and the sound of splintering wood also subsided. Under the cover of uneven, dense thickets and blooming exotic flowers, the crew shrank together in fear. They were foreigners, dark-skinned Egyptian sailors conscripted by the great Alexander, serving in fleets against Arab and Indian rulers. They held their spears uneasily, fully aware of their shameless rebellion but feeling no remorse, enduring their young commander's terrifying rage with stubborn pride. Their eyes greedily fixed on the women beside them—their new discovery on this incredible land. Here, the stars above twinkled like foreign constellations, and the earth was full of shelter, with food abundant for the taking. These women were tall and slender, upright and agile. For sailors who had not even seen a mermaid in the past few months, their bronze skin and smiling eyes were truly a delight. Why should they leave these newfound pleasures, these friendly people of the gentle race who called themselves Mayans? Why should they set sail again on the endless sea toward the setting sun? That would be too much to offend the gods. They were certain that this time their remains would rot in the sunless abyss of the bottomless sea, perhaps their ship would drift to the ends of the earth and fall into the ancient chaos. No, they could not offend those sea gods anymore. As they were sailing around the enemy's coast, a hurricane arose in the Indian Ocean, scattering them and Alexander the Great's fleet with Neptunus. Since then, only the goddess Isis and Osiris had saved them. The people here regarded them and their young, blue-eyed, blond commander as gods from across the great ocean. They wanted to stay, to stay among the people here. When their warship entered this marvelous bay, had the people here not bowed down and worshipped Cleon? Had they not shouted and called him by some inexplicable name, as if they had long awaited him? Yes, they called him Quetzal. However, after enjoying the gentle air for a month, replenishing their supplies, and filling their water barrels, Cleon, with his Greek stubbornness, ordered them to take up the oars again and sail out to meet the sea once more, the one they had miraculously escaped.