October 2029, Gwalior City, Madhya Pradesh, India
Bharat's grandmother Vanita was a remarkable old woman. She had never been to school, yet she knew so much.
In Bharat's eyes, Grandma was like an all-knowing question-and-answer machine. Whenever he couldn't figure something out, she was always the first person he asked.
Ever since Irene had told Bharat about a wealthy man who'd suffered a rejection reaction after receiving stem cells and needed his "Primal Blood" for treatment, Bharat had been troubled. He turned to Grandma Vanita, believing she would know how to help him choose.
"Irene is our friend. Her friend is sick and needs our help—that means he needs your blood. What's there to agonize over?" Grandma said calmly, holding Bharat's right hand and gently rubbing his palm with her thumb.
"My friend is sick, and my blood can help him get better. Of course that's a good thing. But if my Family Tree Project gets funding as a result, I can't accept that kind of exchange." Bharat's darkish cheeks flushed as he spoke indignantly.
Though Bharat already knew his answer, he was still so unsettled because Irene had told him that she and her daughter Mandy were coming to visit that day.
They'd traveled all that way to this remote little mountain village where he lived. It would be so awkward to turn them down face-to-face.
Grandma Vanita was already over eighty. Her eyes were cloudy, and pale flecks mingled with her dark brown irises. Her eyesight should have been very poor, but somehow the old woman seemed able to see everything.
Seeing her grandson's dilemma, Vanita felt a touch of relief. Not everything in the world could be bought with money.
Grandma Vanita told Bharat the story of his grandfather. Bharat's grandfather had never been to school. As a boy, he herded sheep and hunted in the forests around his hometown, and occasionally worked as a guide for travelers and archaeological teams.
Gradually, he developed a deep interest in archaeological excavations. He often ventured alone into mountain valleys, tapping and chipping away at rock formations in search of fossils.
His persistence paid off. Bharat's grandfather collected so many fossils that they filled the backyard. Using what he'd learned from the archaeological teams, he wrote and drew in his notebooks until he'd amassed several thick volumes.
Of all the fossils, Grandma Vanita liked one best. It was a flat, grayish-white fossil, with a clear and complete animal skeleton raised on its surface.
Vanita had never seen an animal like it. Bharat's grandfather told her that it had lived fifty or sixty million years ago and was now extinct, or had evolved into another kind of animal.
Bharat's grandfather called it a little pig, but Grandma Vanita didn't like that name. She thought the animal looked more like a little deer.
She reminded her husband that one of the poems in Tagore's The Gardener was called "The Golden Deer." Calling the fossil a little deer sounded much nicer than calling it a pig.
Irene and Mandy's arrival interrupted the memories. Bharat welcomed the guests, who had come from far away, into the somewhat dim house and introduced them to his grandmother.
Irene and her daughter were both dressed like outdoor travelers. Mandy carried a heavy backpack and wore a camera around her neck, its long lens removed.
From Bharat's slightly awkward expression, Irene seemed to guess what was on his mind. She said:
"Bharat, I came to apologize. Your blood is pure, just like your spotless heart. My earlier proposal tainted it. I'm very sorry."
Bharat was deeply surprised and felt a weight lift from his shoulders, but then, for some reason, he suddenly grew worried again. He asked:
"What will happen to your friend's illness?"
Irene said that a biological agent she was researching had made progress. Prince Harufa was among the participants in its Phase III clinical trial, and his rejection reaction had miraculously disappeared. The agent was made from small molecules extracted from the milk of female humpback whales.
"Even without this new drug, Prince Harufa and I wouldn't ask you for a blood transfusion again. We're all the same; we share the same bottom line." As she spoke, Irene thought of Martha's report and shook her head with a bitter smile. Sigh. Were rich people really that bad?
Irene had made the trip to this little mountain village for more than just telling Bharat he wouldn't need to donate blood. At Prince Harufa's request, she had come to ask whether Bharat was willing to accept funding and take his Family Tree Project worldwide.
"The prince will donate money to establish a special fund at my foundation for your Family Tree Project," Mandy explained.
Bharat looked at his grandmother. Encouraged by the pride and affection in her eyes, he said:
"Please thank the prince for me. I'll work hard to make the Family Tree Project even better." Then he asked Mandy, "What kind of charity work does your foundation mainly do?"
"Our foundation is called Fossils of Civilization," Mandy explained. "We mainly work to protect Indigenous communities. We have branches in Egypt and Mexico, and on this visit to India, we plan to make your village one of our beneficiaries."
That's interesting, Bharat thought. His project was called "My Family Tree," while Mandy's foundation was called "Fossils of Civilization." The two projects and their names were certainly a good match.
Mandy noticed the cards spread out on the table in front of Grandma Vanita and asked curiously:
"Are these cards used for fortune-telling? I've heard for a long time that fortune-telling in India is fascinating."
Grandma Vanita smiled kindly and shuffled the cards on the table until they were all face down. After mixing them, she gestured for Mandy to draw one.
The cards lay face down on the table, some black and some red, clearly from two different decks. Mandy noticed that one card was conspicuously worn, and its back had an unusual design: a yellowed, shell-shaped leaf.
She drew that card and turned it over. Its face was dark gray, crossed by several thin, gray-white lines. In the center, the image was printed in reverse, showing only the number "0." Mandy realized the image had been reproduced from an inscription rubbing.
Holding the card in her hands, Mandy waited for Grandma Vanita's fortune. Grandma seemed to have guessed that Mandy would choose this unusual card. Rather than explain it right away, she continued telling the story of Bharat's grandfather.
Bharat's family village lay deep in the heart of India, with little contact with the outside world. Somehow, news that Bharat's grandfather had found Little Deer Fossil spread far and wide. Merchants came by every so often, offering high prices for the fossil, but Bharat's grandfather always refused outright.
After Bharat's grandfather died, Grandma kept Little Deer Fossil safe.
One day, a representative from the world's most famous museum arrived and offered to pay $50,000 to acquire Little Deer Fossil. Vanita refused without a moment's hesitation.
"Wouldn't it be better to display it in the world's most famous museum, where more people could see it?" Bharat couldn't help asking.
Grandma replied, "Bharat, your grandfather told me that fossils are valuable for research and should only go to someone destined to receive them who has the ability to study them."
Mandy couldn't help being curious either, and pressed her: "Did that person ever appear? Where is Little Deer Fossil now?"
Grandma smiled mysteriously, pointed to the "0" on the card in Mandy's hand, and said:
"It's in your hands. The person destined to receive it was an archaeologist. He found an ancient stone stele bearing the '0' in the old city here. He gave me this rubbing of the stele, and I decided he was the one who could understand Little Deer Fossil."
As everyone looked on in confusion, Bharat suddenly understood and exclaimed:
"Right here in my hometown, Gwalior City, they unearthed a stele engraved with one of ancient India's greatest inventions: the number '0.' That led to the origin point of the Cartesian coordinate system, and eventually to all of modern natural science."
"Not just natural science. The invention of the number '0' was also a major milestone in the history of human thought and philosophy," Mandy added.
"So you turned down the temptation of $50,000 and gave Little Deer Fossil to the archaeologist who discovered the stele?" Irene said, deeply impressed.
"Yes. I gave him Little Deer Fossil, along with a collection of Tagore's poems, which Bharat's grandfather had cherished most while he was alive," Grandma Vanita said.
"I know the poem Grandpa liked best. He read it to me when I was little, and I still remember it today." Bharat said, then recited it loudly:
Tagore, The Gardener, No. 69: The Golden Deer
I chase after the little golden deer,
Don't laugh at me, my friends. I seek a home I can never reach.
You may go to the market and return home; you needn't heed my plaint.
But the homeless wind breathes a spell,
Grazes my body, and leaves me not knowing
What year it is tonight, or where my body is.
I empty my heart and mind, heedless of all that is mine,
And cross the valleys, chasing the little golden deer.
A millennium of change and decay, Qing, Dai Zi
Gazing at each other in silence, each filled with self-pity, Ming, Xu Juzheng
Old moss spreads over the stone deer along the sealed path, Tang, Lu Guimeng
How can I bear to watch the courtyard filled with fresh blood? Song, Shi Hao