Past Days

The three of them cleared the plates and trash from the table, then went to Liz's room as they had last time. Liz took out an old but well-preserved map from her drawer.

She carefully spread the map on the bed, showing it to Hesta and Tulan.

This was a map of the Askia Wasteland, reputed to be the largest wasteland in District 3, three times the size of Tanyi. Whether it was truly the largest in terms of land area was yet to be confirmed, but it had once been a prosperous city-state, even rivaling some habitable zones far from the core cities at its peak.

Askia was located on a vast plain, offering great convenience for travel but no natural defenses.

The entire Askia had five districts, and Liz's home was situated at a bend of an artificial river in the east city. Not far from there was a small park where many dog owners would play frisbee with their pets on weekends.

Liz was familiar with every street in the vicinity; she could even list the shopkeepers on certain streets and their names from memory.

"The zone restrictions in the wastelands aren't that strict," Liz said softly. "For example, Askia and Vilyuchinsk, one is in the north-central part of District 3, and the other is in the easternmost part of District 14. But if someone is willing, they can still migrate there. It seems some of my ancestors were among the first to go to Vilyuchinsk, but it's been too long, and contact has been lost on both sides."

Tulan did a rough mental calculation of the distance between the two.

"So far... and so dangerous."

"There's always a limit to how many people a piece of land can support. To survive, someone has to be a pioneer," Liz said softly. "Besides, it's not all uninhabited territory all the way east. You'll often encounter different towns every so often, but people are very wary of strangers and don't easily let outsiders in."

"Then how do people settle down?"

"Larger wastelands usually have their own dedicated liaison stations and quarantine zones, mostly established by Quicksilver Needles. The general process is to submit an application, provide documentation, and after approval, undergo a cerebrospinal fluid test and spend three months in a special quarantine facility... it's very troublesome.

"Smaller wastelands aren't as strict; people do whatever they can. After all, before the Chelated Tide broke out in Askia, everyone hadn't seen a Chelated Being for decades. Under such circumstances, expecting everyone to voluntarily adhere to an extremely complicated set of rules is almost impossible."

Hesta had also heard Arnold mention this. Askia in 4620 and Hekla in 4621 were the only two instances of Chelated Tide outbreaks in District 3 in recent years. Most of the 67 reservists in the base came from villages around these two wastelands. Liz and the Grangua brothers, as residents living at the center of the outbreak points, their survival was almost a miracle.

Liz looked at the map. "The two Chelated Tides served as a wake-up call for both the habitable zones and other wastelands."

"It's hard to say. If it really served as a wake-up call, two Chelated Beings wouldn't have slipped into Catra City," Tulan said, lying on her side. "The municipal fortifications outside the city were built carelessly before, and the Public Security Department didn't properly carry out their duty of patrolling the quarantine zone every night. Everyone thought the Hekla Wasteland was far from Catra City, and even if something happened, it wouldn't be our turn yet... Who remembers the lesson without seeing blood?"

The three of them lay on the bed, each lost in thought about the past, falling into silence for a moment.

Liz suddenly turned her head. "Jane, what kind of place is Duanming Alley?"

Hesta hadn't expected the sudden shift in topic and could only let out a soft, slow "Mm...".

"Is it really full of criminals?" Tulan asked.

"Probably... yes? But it's not that scary," Hesta recalled. "After all, to find enough food, clean water, and essential medicine... you have to trade in one place. So, in most cases, people try to avoid pointless disputes. Many people just treat Duanming Alley as a temporary place to stay, and eventually, they try to find a place to settle elsewhere."

Liz nodded thoughtfully. "It sounds quite similar to the situation in Hekla."

"How is it similar?"

"In the center of the Hekla Wasteland, there's a small town about forty square kilometers called Oasis Land. Have you heard of it?"

Hesta shook her head.

Liz continued, "It has underground trading posts, hospitals, pharmacies, and some procurement points... Apart from selling people, weapons, and drugs, it's no different from other wastelands.

"Oasis Land is a 'truce zone' agreed upon by all Hekla residents, because the locals also need a place to get medical help and gather information. So, no matter what the dispute, as long as one enters Oasis Land, both parties must temporarily put aside their conflict."

Hesta tilted her head. "It sounds like the sanctuaries in churches."

"Really?" Liz blinked.

"Yes. A nun once told me that before the Great Blackout Era, the church had 'sanctuary rights.' No matter who it was, no matter what crime they had committed, as long as they stepped into the church and rang the bell of confession, they would immediately receive protection."

"...The police couldn't go in and arrest them?"

Hesta nodded. "Yes, the bishop, priest, or head nun would grant them a period of sanctuary ranging from half a month to forty days, depending on the situation. After that, they would either be permanently expelled or face trial in a secular court—so they weren't completely getting away with it."

Tulan suddenly paused. "Catra has places like that too. Near the church, there's a shelter—that's what they're used for."

"Perhaps some customs in this land are carried over from the Golden Age? Even if they may have taken on a different form..."

Tulan let out a laugh.

"So, if that's the case, even after more than eight hundred years, we are still descendants of the Golden Age."

Among the three, only Liz's expression suddenly became complex.

She got up and went to the wall, taking down her bayan.

"'The White Ship' is a folk song passed down from the Golden Age. My grandmother taught it to me," Liz's voice was very gentle. "She also taught me another song. Would you like to hear it?"

On the same night, the same song was echoing in Chiba's office.

The wind-up record player beneath her windowsill was spinning, and the metal-plated needle was continuously reading out segments of an unfamiliar language.

Chiba hummed the melody of the song. She had once held the outer casing of the record and asked Mrs. Dalia of the White Ship about the meaning of the song's title.

These mottled characters formed a short phrase: "I Wish to Die Young" (1).

--

(1) Refers to Mira Rozhvitskaya's poem "I Wish to Die Young."