The Weight of Memories (2 page)

Authors: Cixin Liu

BOOK: The Weight of Memories

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Mother: Don't say that, baby.

Dr. Ying: No, your child is right. It's fair that you think that; I really am selfish. At the beginning, I did think about having a baby with inherited memories myself, but something gave me pause: We were baffled by the dormant nature of memory inheritance in humans. What was the point of such memories if they weren't used? Additional research revealed that they were akin to the appendix, an evolutionary vestige. The distant ancestors of modern humans clearly possessed inherited memories that were activated, but over time, such memories became suppressed. We couldn't explain why evolution would favor the loss of such an important advantage. But nature always has its reasons. There must be some danger that caused these memories to be shut off.

Mother: I don't blame you for being wary, Dr. Ying. But I participated in this experiment willingly. I want to be born a second time.

Dr. Ying: But you won't be. From what we know now, you are pregnant not with yourself but a child, a child with all your memories.

Fetus: I agree, Mama. I'm not you, but I can feel that all my memories came from your brain. The only real memories I have are the waters that surround me, your heartbeat, and the faint reddish-orange glow from outside.

Dr. Ying: We made a terrible mistake in thinking that replicating memories was sufficient to replicate a person. A self is composed of many things besides memories, things that cannot be replicated. A person's memories are like a book, and different readers will experience different feelings. It's a terrible thing to allow an unborn child to read such a heavy, bleak book.

Mother: It's true. I like this city, but the city of my memories seems to terrify my baby.

Fetus: The city
is
frightening! Everything outside is scary, Mama. I don't want to be born!

Mother: How can you say that? Of course you have to be born.

Fetus: No, Mama! Do you remember the winter mornings in Xitao, when Grandma and Grandpa used to yell at you?

Mother: Of course I remember. My parents used to wake me before the sun was even up so that I could go with them to clean out the sheep pen. I didn't want to get up at all. It was still dark outside, and the wind sliced across skin like knives. Sometimes it even snowed. I was so warm in my bed, wrapped up in my blanket like an egg in the nest. I always wanted to sleep a little longer.

Fetus: Not just a little longer. You wanted to sleep in the warm blanket forever.

Mother
(pausing)
: Yeah, you're right.

Fetus: I'm not going out there! Never!

Dr. Ying: I assure you, child, the world outside is not an eternal night in a winter storm. There are days of bright sunshine and spring breeze. Life isn't easy, but there is much joy and happiness as well.

Mother: Dr. Ying is right! Your mama remembers many happy moments, like the day I left home: When I walked out of Xitao, the sun had just risen. The breeze was cool on my face, and the twittering of many birds filled my ears. I felt like a bird that had just escaped its cage.â¦ And that first time after I earned my own money in the city! I walked into the supermarket, and I was filled with bliss, endless possibilities all around me. Can't you feel my joy, baby?

Fetus: Mama, I remember both of those times very clearly, but they're horrible memories. The day you left the village, you had to hike thirty kilometers through the mountains to catch a bus in the nearest town. The trail was rough and hard, and you had only sixteen yuan in your pocket; what were you going to do after you had spent them all? Who knew what you were going to find in the world outside? And that supermarket? It was like an ant's nest, crowded with people pressing on each other. So many strangers, so utterly terrifyingÂ â¦

Dr. Ying
(after a long silence)
: I now understand why evolution shut off the activation of inherited memories in humans. As our minds grew ever more sensitive, the ignorance that accompanied our birth was like a warm hut that protected us from the harsh realities of the world. We have taken away your child's nest and tossed him onto a desolate plain, exposed to the elements.

Fetus: Auntie Ying, what is this line connected to my tummy?

Dr. Ying: I think you already asked your mother that question. That's your umbilical cord. Before you are born, it provides you with oxygen and nutrients. It's your lifeline.

*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *

A spring morning two years later.

Dr. Ying and the young mother stood side by side in the middle of a public cemetery; the mother held her child in her arms.

“Dr. Ying, did you ever wind up finding what you were looking for?”

“You mean whatever it is, besides memories, that makes a person who they are?” Slowly, Dr. Ying shook her head. “Of course not. I don't think it's something that science can find.”

The newly risen sun reflected off the gravestones around them. Countless lives that had already ended glowed again with a soft orange light.

“Tell me where is fancy bred, or in the heart, or in the head?” muttered Dr. Ying.

“What did you say?” The mother looked at Dr. Ying, confused.

“Something Shakespeare once wrote.” Dr. Ying held out her arms, and the mother handed the baby to her.

This wasn't the baby whose inherited memories had been activated. The young mother had married a technician at the lab, and this was their child.

The fetus who had possessed all his mother's memories had torn off his umbilical cord a few hours after their conversation. By the time the attending physician realized what had happened, the unborn life was already over. Afterward, everyone was puzzled how his little hands had the strength to accomplish such a thing.

The two women now stood before the grave of the youngest suicide in the history of the human race.

Dr. Ying studied the baby in her arms as though looking at an experiment. But the baby's gaze was different from hers. He was busy sticking out his little arms to grab at the drifting cottony poplar catkins. Surprise and joy filled his bright, black eyes. The world was a blooming flower, a beautiful, gigantic toy. He was completely unprepared for the long, winding road of life ahead of him, and thus ready for anything.

The two women walked along the path between the gravestones. At the edge of the cemetery, the young mother took her baby back from Dr. Ying.

“It's time for us to be on our way,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement and love.

About the Author

CIXIN LIU
is the most prolific and popular science fiction writer in the People's Republic of China. Liu is an eight-time winner of the Galaxy Award (the Chinese Hugo) and a winner of the Chinese Nebula Award. Prior to becoming a writer, he worked as an engineer in a power plant. His novels include
The Three-Body Problem, The Dark Forest
, and
Death's End
. You can sign up for email updates
here
.

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