August 2029, Sand Oil Nation
In 2018, Governor Pierce of Brightland lifted the ban on domestic oil drilling, making Brightland the world's largest oil producer in one fell swoop. Before that, Sand Oil Nation had ranked first.
Although Sand Oil Nation's oil production had fallen to second place, not long ago an astonishingly large gold deposit was discovered underground. Sand Oil Nation was truly favored by heaven: its land was covered in sand, beneath the sand was gold, and beneath the gold was oil.
Naturally, Sand Oil Nation's sovereign wealth fund had become the world's largest equity investment fund. It was managed by Prince Harufa, who had just turned fifty.
Michael Max's plan for colonizing Mars had taken preliminary shape and was entering the implementation phase. What he needed most wasn't bold ideas or integrated technology, but money.
Michael had heard of Prince Harufa long ago. He could have asked friends in the financial world to introduce them, but Michael's way of doing things was always unexpected.
Irene Petkova was a close friend of Prince Harufa's, as well as an adviser to his personal health team. Prince Harufa gladly accepted Irene's suggestion and invited Michael Max to Sand Oil Nation for a meeting.
Prince Harufa was tall, with a piercing gaze and a high nose. His long nose stood prominently above his lean, resolute face. The prince politely and warmly embraced Michael, who had come from afar, and said:
"You're the explorer and entrepreneur I admire most, my dear friend. Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"Thank you for the compliment. I also greatly admire your grand plan to build a cluster of smart cities in the desert." Michael's eyes gleamed as he got straight to the point:
"I plan to transform Mars and turn it into a second Earth. It will require a massive investment, but the returns will be substantial."
"A second Earth? When you talk about transforming Mars, do you mean people will live in sealed cabins without seeing daylight?" the prince asked.
Michael's expression turned somewhat mysterious, but his resolve was unmistakable. He replied:
"I intend to restart Mars's magnetic field, oceans, and oxygen-rich atmosphere. People will be able to breathe and walk freely on Mars. It will become a true second Earth."
The prince looked puzzled. Their conversation reached an impasse, albeit in a friendly and harmonious atmosphere. Michael Max couldn't tell the prince about Nikola Tesla's theories or the technical principles and engineering details of the Superlight Wave Power Station.
Michael assured the prince that everything he had said was feasible because he had access to a little-known, super-powerful energy source. It was immensely powerful, and the transformation of Mars would take very little time.
Michael understood the prince's skepticism about this supposedly little-known energy source. He proposed that once Sand Oil Nation's sovereign wealth fund committed to investing a certain amount, Michael's company would conduct an experiment on Enceladus, one of Saturn's moons, to demonstrate the energy source's power.
"Seeing is believing. I'm very much looking forward to your Enceladus experiment." Prince Harufa seemed more concerned about something else. He said with some worry, "You say transforming Mars will take very little time, but however little time it takes, it still depends on the state of my health."
Michael Max studied the prince in surprise, then turned to look at Irene Petkova beside him.
The prince's personal health was private, and clearly not suitable for discussion in this setting. The first meeting between the entrepreneur and his potential investor came to an end.
Prince Harufa had no idea what kind of mysterious energy source could exist in the world. Michael Max had no idea what was wrong with the prince's health.
Irene Petkova knew the details of the prince's health well. As biopharmaceuticals and gene therapy continued to advance, many of the world's wealthiest people had begun regularly receiving stem cell injections to boost their vitality and extend their lives.
Prince Harufa had developed a rejection reaction to stem cells. After the top medical team and health adviser Irene consulted on his case, they determined that the reaction was caused by incompatibility between the stem cells and the prince's blood. An effective treatment was to use small molecule amino acid clusters that dissolved in the blood.
When more than fifty amino acids linked together, they formed a protein. A few or a dozen amino acids linked together were called small molecules, or peptides. Small molecules dissolved in water and in blood, and played a key regulatory role in gene therapy.
The medical team discovered that existing artificially synthesized small molecules couldn't effectively resolve the rejection reaction in the prince's body.
One expert suggested that certain primitive tribes had never been "contaminated" by modern medicine. The blood in their bodies was known as "Primal Blood." Perhaps the natural small molecules in Primal Blood were more potent and therapeutic than any artificially synthesized small molecules.
Irene Petkova thought of the ancient village on India's Deccan Plateau. The locals there had all preserved their "Primal Blood." It had been one of her research subjects when she was a professor of biology.
The ancient village lay on the outskirts of Gwalior City, in Madhya Pradesh, nestled between the warm Ganges Plain and a mountainous canyon corridor.
Living conditions there were harsh, yet the average life expectancy was long. The oldest resident was named Vanita, whom everyone in the area respectfully called "Grandma."
Vanita really was a grandmother. One of her grandsons was named Bharat. Like many young people in his community, Bharat had left the mountain village to study and work in the city. He was a programmer at a technology company in Mumbai.
A few years earlier, Grandma Vanita had fallen gravely ill and become bedridden. Irene Petkova's research team happened to be stationed in the area.
Since Vanita refused treatment with modern medicine, Irene thought of a compromise: she proposed that one of Vanita's immediate family members donate blood to her.
So Vanita's grandson Bharat quit his job and returned to the village, where he regularly gave blood to his grandmother.
And so a miracle happened. Grandma Vanita's health gradually improved. Although she had trouble walking, she regained her old spirit when she sat at the table playing with her cards.
Grandma Vanita's cards were an ancient Indian fortune-telling tool. She was a remarkably accurate fortune-teller, and villagers nearby, as well as people from distant cities, often came to have their fortunes told.
Grandma's eyesight was growing worse and worse. After returning to his hometown, Bharat wrote a program that brought the cards' designs and rules for combining them onto the internet.
There were two decks of cards, one with red backs and one with black. Each deck had fifty-two cards, with four suits of thirteen cards each. Grandma told fortunes using the combinations and order of these 104 cards. After quitting his job, Bharat had unexpectedly become an online fortune-teller.
Bharat was very close to his grandmother. The first time he left home to study in the city, Grandma had held his hand and said:
"City children know more things than you do. They might leave you stumped all the time. Grandma will tell you a secret: you can ask them a simple question in return, one they definitely won't know the answer to."
Afterward, Bharat tried Grandma's question again and again. Sure enough, it always stumped his proud friends who had grown up in the city. The simple question was:
"Do you know your grandmother's name? Do you know your grandmother's grandmother's name?"
Grandma was old, and Bharat knew she would eventually leave him. He decided to use the limited knowledge he had of artificial intelligence to gather as much data as he could about her voice and appearance, so she could "live" forever in the online world.
And it wasn't just Grandma. Bharat created digital relatives in the computer, modeled after the voices and appearances of the elders still living in his family, as well as the deceased relatives they remembered. He called this intelligent audiovisual system "My Family Tree."
Bharat had received a modern education and often exchanged messages with Irene. During a video call with her, he asked her Grandma's question. Irene was at a loss, like a child who had done something wrong. She replied:
"I know my grandmother's name, but I don't know my grandmother's grandmother's name."
As she spoke, tears welled up in Irene's eyes for no apparent reason.
Irene admired the family tree Bharat had created and suggested that he set up a dedicated website to offer the service to more people. She said:
"Bharat, you've done something truly meaningful. If, after someone dies, not even her grandson's grandson remembers her name, who else will know that she ever came into this world?"
Bharat said he couldn't provide the service to more people and create family trees for them, because he didn't have that much money.
Today, Bharat received a call from Irene. When she answered, Irene hesitated, seeming to summon up her courage before speaking slowly and quietly:
"Bharat, I have a special patient who needs you to donate blood to him. For the sake of medical ethics, I don't know whether this is right or wrong."
Bharat replied without hesitation:
"If my blood can help someone who's ill, I'm sure he's someone you care about and are close to as well. How could that be wrong?"
Irene fell silent for a full minute. Stammering, she said:
"My friend's illness didn't happen naturally. Its cause may have something to do with desire and wealth, so I don't think using your Primal Blood to treat him would be appropriate."
Bharat fell silent too. Torn with indecision, Irene said:
"I don't even know whether I should have called you, much less whether I should ask you this. My patient and friend also thinks the Family Tree Project is very meaningful, and he's willing to provide you with funding."
Lines from a poem assembled to end the chapter:
Alas, the years are drawing to a close. — Luo Binwang, Tang
Such a fair face is hard to preserve. — Yao Kang, Tang
White dew gathers on the sweet fruit. — Du Fu, Tang
Like my crimson heart within. — Yuan Fu, Song
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