01　For the Benefit of Mankind002

*

It was not until he returned to the outside world that Smoothbore heard the news: the Creators had arrived to claim the support of the human civilization they themselves had once fostered, but, unable to live comfortably on Earth, left after only one year. Their fleet of 20,000 ships had already vanished into the endless cosmos.

Smoothbore had barely stepped off the plane when received his first processing order.

Brother Teeth warmly welcomed Smoothbore home with an extravagant banquet in his honor. Smoothbore asked to meet privately with him after dinner, saying he had many things he wanted to get off his chest. When everyone else had left, Smoothbore told Brother Teeth,‘I grew up at your side. In my heart, you have never been my brother,but rather my father. I ask you, should I practice the profession I have studied? Just say the word, and I will obey.’

Brother Teeth put his arm around Smoothbore’s shoulder. ‘If you like it, you should do it. I can tell you enjoy it. Don’t worry about high roads and low roads – people with bright futures will do well whatever path they follow.’

‘As you say.’

Smoothbore drew his pistol and fired into Brother Teeth’s stomach.As the smoke cleared, Brother Teeth looked at Smoothbore. A flicker of shock registered in his eyes before it was replaced by the numbness that follows revelation. He laughed faintly and nodded.

‘You’ve already made something of yourself, kid.’ Brother Teeth spat blood as he spoke and sank gently to the ground.

Smoothbore’s processing order had specified an hour of delayed cooling, but no recording. The client trusted him. He poured a glass of liquor and watched the blood pool around Brother Teeth with cold detachment. One hour later, Brother Teeth drew his last breath.

Smoothbore had spoken truthfully when he said Brother Teeth was like a father to him. On a rainy day when he was five, Smoothbore’s biological father, livid after a huge gambling loss, demanded that his mother relinquish every savings deposit book in the house. When she refused, he simply beat her to death. And when Smoothbore tried to block his father, the man broke his son’s nose and arm and then vanished into the rain. Later, Smoothbore had searched far and wide for him without success. If he ever did find his father, the man had earned himself the pleasure of a slow cooling.

Smoothbore heard afterwards that Mr K had returned every penny of his salary to Brother Teeth’s family and flown back to Russia. Before leaving, the Russian said that the day he sent Smoothbore to study abroad,he knew Brother Teeth would die by his hand. Brother Teeth had lived his life on a knife’s edge, but he never understood what made a true killer.

One after another, the junkmen left the landfill until only Smoothbore’s mark remained. She rooted through the garbage, buried in her work. She was too weak to claim a good spot when the trucks arrived, and she could only make up for it by working longer hours.Her persistence meant there was no need for Smoothbore to wait for her outside. Thrusting Snubnose into his jacket pocket, he left the car and headed straight for his mark on the garbage heap.

There was a sponginess and tepid warmth to the garbage underfoot,like he was walking on the body of some enormous beast. When he was within four or five meters of his target, Smoothbore drew his revolver from his pocket.

At that moment, a bolt of blue light shot up from the east. The Elder Brothers’ spaceship had completed a full orbit around Earth and returned,still glowing, to the Southern Hemisphere. The abrupt appearance of the blue sun drew the gaze of the two figures on the landfill. They studied the strange star for a moment, and then glanced at each other. When their eyes met, Smoothbore did something no professional hitman should ever do: he nearly let his gun slip out of his hand. For an instant, the shock made him forget Snubnose even existed, and he almost cried out without thinking:Sweet Pea! But smoothbore knew it was not Sweet Pea. Fourteen years ago, he had watched Sweet Pea’s agonizing death. But she had lived on in Smoothbore’s heart, growing older and stronger. He often saw her in his dreams, and he imagined she would look just like the young woman in front of him now.

In his upstart years, Brother Teeth had dealt in an unspeakable trade:he purchased handicapped children from the hands of human traffickers and put them to work in the city as beggars. In those years, the public had not yet exhausted its compassion, and the children proved quite profitable,playing no small part in Brother Teeth’s accumulation of seed capital.

Once, Smoothbore accompanied Brother Teeth to receive a new group of children from a trafficker. When they arrived at the old warehouse, they found five children waiting there. Four of them suffered from congenital deformities, but one little girl was whole and healthy.Sweet Pea was six years old and adorable. In stark contrast to the children around her, her big, wide eyes were still full of life. Smoothbore’s heart broke as he recalled those eyes and the curiosity with which the little girl examined everything around her, totally unaware of the fate that awaited her.

‘That’s them.’ said the trafficker, pointing at the four deformed children.

‘I thought we agreed on five?’ asked Brother Teeth.

‘The carriage was packed. One of them didn’t make it.’

‘What about this one?’ Brother Teeth pointed at Sweet Pea.

‘She’s not for sale.’

‘I want her. Same price as the others.’ The tone in his voice brooked no argument.

‘But… she’s perfectly fine. How will you make money with her?’

‘You ass. A few finishing touches will do it.’

As Brother Teeth spoke, he unwound his saw from his waist and drew it across one of Sweet Pea’s delicate calves, opening a gaping wound on the girl’s leg. Blood gushed out and Sweet Pea shrieked and shrieked.

‘Bind it up and stop the bleeding, but don’t give her antibiotics. It needs to fester.’ Brother Teeth instructed Smoothbore.

So Smoothbore bandaged the Sweet Pea’s wound, but the blood continued to seep through the layers of gauze, and the little girl’s face grew deathly pale. He snuck her a few doses of Erythromycin and Sulfamethoxazole behind Brother Teeth’s back, but it was no use. Sweet Pea’s wound grew infected.

Two days later, Brother Teeth sent Sweet Pea to beg on the streets. The effect produced by her pathetic expression and crippled leg immediately exceeded Brother Teeth’s expectations. On the very first day she earned three thousand yuan, and over the week that followed,she never brought in less than two thousand per day. On her last day on the street, a foreign couple took one glance at her and handed her four hundred US dollars. Despite this, Sweet Pea was rewarded with a single box of spoiled food per day. This was not just miserliness on the part of Brother Teeth, but a deliberate way to preserve the child’s starved appearance. Smoothbore could only give her scraps under the cover of darkness.

One evening, as Smoothbore went to retrieve Sweet Pea from the curbside on which she begged, the little girl leaned close to his ear and whispered, ‘Brother, my leg doesn’t hurt anymore.’ She looked cheerful about this.

Except for his mother’s death, this was the only time Smoothbore could remember crying. Sweet Pea’s leg did not trouble her because the nerves were already dead. Her entire leg had turned black, and she had run a high fever for two days. Smoothbore could not bear to follow Brother Teeth’s orders any longer, and he carried Sweet Pea to the hospital. The doctors informed him that it was already too late: the girl had blood poisoning. She passed away late the next night, consumed by fever.

From that moment on, Smoothbore’s blood ran cold, and just as Mr K predicted, it never warmed again. Killing others became a pleasure for Smoothbore, more addictive than any drug. He lived to smash the delicate jade vessels called ‘humans’, to watch the red liquid contained within gush out and cool to room temperature. That alone was the truth – that all the warmth in that liquid was only ever a charade.

*

The junkwoman stood, slung her oversized sack over her shoulder,and slowly turned to leave. It was not Smoothbore’s arrival that prompted her departure. She had not noticed what he held in his hand, and could not imagine that this well-dressed man might bear any relation to herself. It was simply time for her to go. As the Elder Brothers’ ship sank below the western horizon, Smoothbore stood motionless on the landfill, watching her figure vanish into the fading blue twilight.

Smoothbore returned his gun to its holster. He drew out his cellphone and dialed Zhu Hanyang’s number: ‘I want to meet with you. There is something I need to ask.’

‘Nine o’clock tomorrow, same place.’ Zhu Hanyang’s answer was unfazed and concise, as if he had expected Smoothbore’s call.

*

As he entered the Presidential Hall, Smoothbore discovered that the entire thirteen-person standing committee of the Council for Liquidation of Social Wealth was already assembled there, their stern gazes focused upon his own person.

‘Please ask what you came to ask.’ said Zhu Hanyang.

‘Why do you want to kill these three people?’ asked Smoothbore.

‘You have violated the ethics of your profession.’ Zhu observed drily,slicing the cap off a cigar with an elegant cigar cutter.

‘Yes, and it will cost me. But I need to know the reason, or I cannot do this job.’

Zhu lit the cigar with a long match and nodded slowly: ‘I cannot help but think that you only accept work that targets the wealthy. If this is the case, then you are not a true professional hitman, just a thug with a penchant for petty class vengeance, a psychopath who has killed forty-one people in three years, who is being desperately pursued by the police at this very moment. Your reputation will come crashing down around you.’

‘You could call the police right now,’ Smoothbore replied calmly.

‘Has this task touched upon a bit of personal history?’ asked Xu Xueping.

Smoothbore could not help but admire her keen insight. His silence answered for him.

‘Was it the woman?’

Smoothbore did not reply. The conversation had veered too far off course.

‘Very well.’ Zhu exhaled a lungful of white smoke. ‘This task is important, and we cannot find anyone more suited to it on such short notice. We have no choice but to accept your terms and tell you the reason,but know that it will exceed your wildest dreams. We, the wealthiest few in this society, desire to kill its poorest and weakest members, and this has made us deranged, hateful creatures in your eyes. Before we explain our motivations, we must first correct this impression.’

‘I’m not interested in issues of light and dark.’

‘But the facts say otherwise. Come with us, please.’ Tossing away his barely smoked cigar, Zhu stood and walked out of the room.

Smoothbore exited the hotel in the company of the full standing committee of the Council for Liquidation of Social Wealth. Something strange was occurring overhead, and pedestrians anxiously craned their heads towards the sky. The Elder Brothers’ spaceship was sweeping past in low orbit. In the light of the rising sun, it seemed especially visible against the early morning skies. The ship scattered a trail of shining silver stars in its wake at even intervals, which stretched behind it to the horizon. The ship’s length had shortened significantly, and as it released star after star its bulk grew jagged, like a broken stick. Smoothbore had learned from the news that the Elder Brothers’ enormous spaceship was actually assembled from thousands of smaller vessels. Now it seemed that the composite whole was splitting apart into an armada.

‘Attention, everyone!’ Zhu beckoned to the committee. ‘You can see the situation has developed, and there may not be much time. We must accelerate our efforts. Each team should report immediately to their assigned liquidation area and continue yesterday’s work.’

As he finished, he and Xu Xueping climbed into a truck and called for Smoothbore to join them.

Only then did Smoothbore notice that the vehicles waiting outside the hotel were not the billionaires’ usual limousines, but a line of Isuzu trucks.

‘So we can transport more cargo.’ explained Xu, reading the confusion on Smoothbore’s face. Smoothbore looked into the bed of the truck and saw that it was neatly packed with small, identical black suitcases. The cases looked elegant and expensive, and he estimated there were over a hundred of them.

There was no driver, and Zhu himself pulled the vehicle out onto the main road. The truck soon turned onto a tree-lined avenue and reduced its speed. Smoothbore realized that Zhu was driving slowly alongside a pedestrian – a vagrant. Although in this day and age the homeless did not necessarily dress in rags, there was always something that gave them away. This man had tied a plastic bag around his waist, and its contents rattled with every step.

Smoothbore knew that the mystery behind the vanishing homeless and junkmen was about to unravel, but he did not believe Zhu and Xu would dare to kill the man right here. In all likelihood, they would first lure their target into the truck and dispose of him at another location.Given their status, it was wholly unnecessary for them to dirty their hands with this sort of work. Perhaps they were setting an example for him?S moothbore had no inclination to interrupt them, but he certainly would not help them either. This was not in his contract.

The tramp was quite unconscious of the fact that the truck had slowed for him until Xu Xueping called out to him.

‘Hello!’ said Xu, rolling down the window. The man stopped and turned his head to look at her. His face had the anesthetized look common to that class. ‘Do you have a place to live?’ Xu asked, smiling.

‘In the summer, I can live anywhere.’ said the man.

‘And in the winter?’

‘Hot air vents. Some restrooms are heated, too.’

‘How long have you lived like this?’

‘Don’t really remember. Came to the city after my land requisition payments ran out, lived like this ever since.’

‘Would you like a three bedroom house in the city? A home?’

The tramp stared blankly at the billionaire. There was not an inkling of comprehension on his face.

‘Can you read?’ asked Xu. After the man nodded, she pointed to a large billboard in front of the truck. ‘Look over there –’ The billboard displayed a grassy knoll dotted with cream-colored buildings, like an idyllic paradise. ‘That’s an advertisement for commercial housing.’ The man turned his head to the billboard, and then looked back at Xu. He did not have the faintest clue what she meant. ‘Okay, now take a case from the truck.’

He obediently walked to the rear of the truck, picked out a case,and walked back to the passenger door. Pointing at the case, Xu told him,‘Inside is one million yuan. Use five hundred thousand to buy yourself a house like the ones on the billboard, and use the rest to live in comfort. Of course, if you can’t spend all that money yourself, you can do what we’re doing and give it someone poorer.’

The tramp’s eyes moved back and forth rapidly, but he remained expressionless, and did not let go of the box. He knew there had to be a catch.

‘Open it and see for yourself.’

He fumbled at the lid with one grimy hand. He opened the case just a crack, and then snapped it shut again, the layer of apathy frozen to his face finally shattered. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

‘Do you have an ID card?’ Zhu Hanyang asked.

The man nodded mechanically, holding the case as far away from himself as possible, as if it was a bomb.

‘Then make a deposit at the bank. It’ll be more convenient.’

‘What… do you want me to do?’ asked the tramp.

‘We just need you to do us one little favor: the aliens are coming.If they ask you, tell them you have this much money. That’s all. Can you promise to do this?’

The man nodded.

Xu stepped down from the truck and bowed deeply to the tramp.‘Thank you.’

‘Thank you.’ added Zhu from the truck.

What shocked Smoothbore most was that their gratitude seemed sincere.

They drove on, losing sight of the newly-minted millionaire in the rear view windows. Not far down the road, the truck stopped at a corner. Smoothbore spotted three migrant day-laborers squatting on the curb, waiting for work. Each man had a small metal trowel, and a small cardboard sign on the ground read: ‘Scrapers.’ The three men ran over as soon as the truck pulled up and clamored for work: ‘Got a job for us,boss?’

Zhu Hanyang shook his head. ‘No. Has business been good lately?’

‘No business to be had. Everybody uses that new thermal spray coating nowadays, no need for scrapers anymore.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Henan.’

Zhu rattled off several questions: ‘The same village? Is it poor? How many households?’

‘It’s up in the hills, there are maybe fifty families. Everyone’s poor.It never rains. Boss, you wouldn’t believe it – we have to irrigate our plants one by one with a watering can.’

‘Don’t bother with farming. Do you have bank accounts?’

All three shook their heads.

‘You’ll have to take cash, then. They’re heavy, but I’ll still trouble you to take a dozen cases from the back.’

‘A dozen?’ It was the scrapers’ only question as they unloaded the cases from the bed of the truck and piled them on the sidewalk. They did not pause to consider Zhu’s instructions – work was work.

‘It doesn’t matter, take as many as you like.’

Fifteen cases soon lay on the ground. Pointing to the stack, Zhu told them, ‘Each box contains one million yuan, fifteen million in total. Go home and share the money with your whole village.’

One of the men laughed at this, as if Zhu had cracked a joke. One of his companions crouched down and opened one of the cases. The men stared at its contents, the same flabbergasted expression as the tramp creeping over their faces.

‘The cases are heavy, so you should hire a car to return to Henan.Actually, if one of you can drive, buy a car. It will be more convenient.’said Xu Xueping.

The three scrapers gaped at the two people in front of them, unsure if they were angels or devils. Like clockwork, one of the men raised the same question as the tramp before him: ‘What do you want with us?’

The answer was the same: ‘We just need you to do us one little favor: the aliens are coming. If they ask you, tell them you have this much money. That’s all. Can you promise to do this?’

The three men nodded in assent.

‘Thank you.’

‘Thank you.’ The two plutocrats bowed in sincere appreciation and drove off, leaving the three baffled scrapers standing next to the stack of cases.

‘You must be wondering if they will keep the money for themselves,’Zhu said to Smoothbore, his eyes still on the steering wheel. ‘Perhaps in the beginning, but they will soon share their wealth with the less fortunate,just as we have done.’

Smoothbore kept silent. Confronted with such absurdity, he felt it was best to say nothing at all. His intuition told him that the world as he knew it was about to undergo a fundamental change.

‘Stop the car!’ cried Xu. She called to a small, filthy child who was rummaging through a trash can for tin cans and cola bottles: ‘Kid, come here!’ The urchin dashed over, dragging his half-filled sack of cans and bottle behind him as if afraid of losing it. ‘Take a case from the truck bed.’The boy obliged. ‘Look inside.’ He opened the case and peered inside. He was surprised, but not as shocked as the four adults had been. ‘What is it?’prompted Xu.

‘Money.’ replied the boy, lifting his head to gaze at her.

‘One million yuan. Take it home and give it to your parents.’

‘So it’s true?’ The boy blinked, turning his head to look at the boxes still stacked high in the truck bed.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I heard people were giving away money all over the city.’

Like throwing away scrap paper, thought Smoothbore. Xu continued:‘You have to promise something before you can keep it. The aliens are coming. If they ask you, you must tell them you have this much money –exactly this much money, okay? That’s all we want. Will you do it?’

‘Yes!’

‘Then take your money and go home, boy. No one will ever be poor again,’ said Zhu as he started the truck.

‘No one will ever be rich again, either.’ said Xu, a dark look on her face.

‘Pull yourself together. It’s a bad situation, but we have a responsibility to stop it from getting worse.’ said Zhu.

‘You really think there is a point to this little game of ours?’

Zhu slammed the brakes and brought the truck to a lurching halt.Gesticulating wildly over the steering wheel, he shouted, ‘Yes, of course it has a point! Or do you want to live the rest of your life like these people?Starving and homeless?’

‘I don’t even want to go on living anymore.’

‘Your sense of duty will sustain you. In these dark days, it’s the only thing that keeps me going. Our wealth demands that we devote ourselves to this mission.’

‘Our wealth what?’ shrieked Xu. ‘We never stole, we never coerced,every yuan we earned was clean. Our wealth pushed society forward.Society should thank us!’

‘Try telling that to the Elder Brothers,’ said Zhu, stepping down from the truck. He tilted his face to the sky and heaved a long sigh.

‘Now do you see that we’re not psycho killers with a grudge against the poor?’ The question was addressed to Smoothbore, who had followed him outside. ‘No, on the contrary, we’ve been spreading our wealth amongst the very poorest, like you just witnessed. In this city and many others, in our nation’s most impoverished areas, the employees of our companies are doing the same thing. They are utilizing every resource available to our conglomerate – billions of checks, credit cards, savings accounts, truckload upon truckloads of cash – to eliminate poverty.’

Just then, Smoothbore noticed the curious spectacle in the sky: the line of silver stars now stretched from one horizon to the other. The Elder Brothers’ mother ship had completely disintegrated, and thousands of smaller ships had formed a gleaming halo around Earth.

‘Earth is surrounded,’ said Zhu. ‘Each of those ships is the size of an aircraft carrier, and the weapons of just one of them could destroy the whole planet.’

‘Last night, they destroyed Australia.’ interjected Xu.

‘Destroyed? What do you mean destroyed?’ asked Smoothbore, his head craning towards the sky.

‘They swept a laser over the Australian continent from space. It pierced right through buildings and bunkers, and every human and large mammal was dead within the hour. Insects and plants were left unscathed,though, and porcelain in shop windows wasn’t so much as scratched.’

Smoothbore glanced momentarily at Xu, and then turned his gaze back to the sky. He was better equipped to deal with this sort of terror than most.

‘It was a show of force. They chose Australia because it was the first country to explicitly reject the ‘reservation’ plan.’ added Zhu.

‘What plan?’ Smoothbore asked.

‘Let me start from the beginning,’ began Zhu. ‘The Elder Brothers have come to our solar system as refugees, unable to survive on First Earth. ‘We have lost our homeland’ – those were the words they used.They have not elaborated on the causes. They want to occupy our Earth,Fourth Earth, and use it as a new habitat. As for this Earth’s inhabitants,they will be relocated to a human ‘reservation’, located in what used to be Australia. Every other territory will belong to the Elder Brothers… An anouncement will be made in tonight’s news.’

‘Australia? It’s a big chunk of rock in the middle of the ocean.’Smoothbore considered it for a moment. ‘Actually, it is pretty suitable.The Australian outback is one big desert – if they squeeze five billion people on the island, starvation will set in before the week is out.’

‘Things aren’t that bleak. Human agriculture and industry will not exist on the reservation. There will be no need to engage in production to survive.’

‘How will they live?’

‘The Elder Brothers will support us – they will provide for humanity.In the future, everything humans need to live will be provided by the Elder Brothers and distributed evenly among us. Every person will receive the same amount. In the future, wealth inequality will cease to exist in human society.’

‘But how will they determine how much to allocate each person?’

‘You’ve grasped the key issue at hand,’ replied Zhu. ‘According to the reservation plan, the Elder Brothers will conduct a comprehensive census of humanity, the goal of which is to determine the absolute minimum standard of living that humans can tolerate. The Elder Brothers will then allocate resources according to the results.’

Smoothbore lowered his head and thought for a moment, and then suddenly chuckled, ‘I think I get it. At least, I think I see the big picture now.’

‘You understand the plight that humanity currently faces?’

‘Actually, the Elder Brothers’ plan is very fair to humanity.’

‘What? You think it’s fair?! You –’ Xu sputtered.

‘He’s right, it is fair,’ Zhu calmly interrupted. ‘If there is no gap between poor and rich, no difference between the lowest and highest standards of living, then the reservation will be paradise on Earth.’

‘But now…’

‘Now, what we must do is simple: before the Elder Brothers conduct their census, we must rapidly level the sharp divide between rich and poor.’

‘So this is ‘social wealth liquidation’?’ asked Smoothbore.

‘Precisely. At present, society’s wealth has solidified. It has its ups and downs, like the high-rises on this street or a mountain towering over a plain. But once it has been liquefied, it will become like the smooth surface of the ocean.

‘But what you are doing now will only create chaos.’

‘True,’ nodded Zhu. ‘We are merely making a gesture of goodwill on behalf of people of means. The real liquidation of wealth will soon commence under the unified leadership of national governments and the United Nations. A sweeping campaign to eliminate poverty is about to begin. Rich countries will poor capital into the Third World, rich people will shower the poor with money – and it will be carried out with perfect sincerity.’

Smoothbore gave a cynical laugh. ‘Things may not be that simple.’

‘What do you mean, you bastard?’ Xu snarled through clenched teeth. She jabbed a finger at Smoothbore’s nose, but Zhu instantly stopped her.

‘He’s a smart fellow. He figured it out.’ said Zhu, tilting his head in Smoothbore’s direction.

‘Yes, I have figured it out. There are poor people who don’t want your money.’

Xu glowered at Smoothbore, then lowered her head and fell silent.Zhu nodded. ‘Right. There are those who do not want money. Can you imagine? Scrounging in the garbage for scraps of food, but refusing an offer of one million yuan? Yes, you hit the nail on the head.’

‘But those people must surely be a tiny minority.’ said Smoothbore.

‘Of course, but even if they account for just one in every hundred thousand poor people, they will be counted as a separate social class.According to the Elder Brothers’ advanced survey methods, their standard of living will be identified as humanity’s minimum standard of living,which in turn will be adopted as the criterion for the Elder Brothers’resource allocation to the reservation! Do you get it? Just one thousandth of one percent!’

‘What percentage of the population do they account for at present?’

‘About one in every thousand.’

‘Perverted, despicable traitors!’ Xu cursed loudly at the sky.

‘So you contracted me to kill them.’ At the moment, Smoothbore did not feel like using professional jargon.

Zhu nodded.

Smoothbore stared at Zhu with a queer expression, and then threw his head back and burst into laughter. ‘I’m killing for the benefit of humankind!’

‘You are benefiting humanity. You are rescuing human civilization.’

‘Actually,’ mused Smoothbore, ‘death threats would do the trick.’

‘That’s no guarantee!’ Xu leaned towards Smoothbore and whispered in a low voice. ‘We are dealing with lunatics, twisted with class hatred.Even if they did take the money, they would still swear to the Elder Brothers that they are penniless. We have to wipe them off the planet as soon as possible.’

‘I understand.’ nodded Smoothbore.

‘So what’s your plan now? We have explained our reasoning just as you asked us. Of course, money will soon be meaningless, and you certainly don’t care about helping humanity.’

‘Money was never of great concern to me, and I’ve never considered the latter… But I will fulfill the contract – by midnight tonight. Please prepare whatever you need to verify its completion.’ As he finished speaking, Smoothbore stepped down from the truck and began to leave.

‘I have one question,’ Zhu called after Smoothbore’s retreating back.‘Perhaps it’s impolite, so you don’t have to answer. If you were poor,would you refuse our money?’

‘I am not poor,’ Smoothbore answered, without looking back. He took a few more steps, and then paused and turned. He fixed the pair with a hawkish gaze. ‘If were… then yes, I would not take it.’ Then he strode away.

*

‘Why did you refuse their money?’ Smoothbore asked his first mark.He had last seen the homeless man in Blossom Plaza; now, they stood in a grove of trees in a nearby park. Two types of light filtered through the canopy. The first was the eerie blue glow that emanated from the ring of the Elder Brothers’ ships, casting dappled shadows across the ground. The second was the shifting, kaleidoscopic brilliance of the metropolis itself,wavering wildly as it slanted through the trees, as if terrified of the blue glow.

The tramp snickered. ‘They were begging me. All those rich people were begging me! One woman even cried! If I took their money, they wouldn’t care about me, and it felt so refreshing to be begged for a change.’

‘Yes, very refreshing.’ said Smoothbore, as he pulled Snubnose’s trigger.

The tramp was an enterprising thief. He had seen at a glance that the man who had called him into the grove was holding something wrapped beneath his coat, and he was curious to discover what it was. He saw a sudden flash from beneath the man’s coat, like the wink of some strange creature within, and he was plunged into endless darkness.

The job was processed and cooled almost instantly. The gunshot was muffled under layers of clothing. No one noticed.

*

Returning to the landfill, Smoothbore discovered that only his mark remained – the other junkmen had evidently claimed their new fortunes and left.

Under the blue light of the ring of starships, Smoothbore picked his way across the warm, springy waste heap with purposeful strides,heading straight for his target. He had reminded himself a hundred times beforehand that this was not Sweet Pea, and there was no need to repeat the warning again. His blood ran cold, and it would not be warmed by a handful of youthful memories. The scavenger girl had not even noticed his arrival when Smoothbore fired his gun. There was no need to silence his weapon on the landfill. Freed from his coat, the shot rang clear, and the flash lit up the garbage around him like a small bolt of lightning. The range gave the bullet time to sing as it tumbled through the air, its whine like the wailing of spirits.

This job was also processed and cooled almost instantly. She was dead before she hit the ground. Her body was instantly swallowed into the landfill, and the blood that might have testified to her existence was quickly sopped up by the garbage.

Without warning, Smoothbore became aware of a presence behind him. He spun on his heel to face the itinerant artist. The man’s long hair fluttered in the evening breeze, like blue flames in the light of the ring of stars.

‘They had you kill her?’ asked the artist.

‘Merely honoring a contract. Did you know her?’

‘Yes. She often came to look at my art. She couldn’t read much, but she understood the paintings. She liked them, just like you.’

‘I’ve been contracted to kill you, too.’

The artist dipped his head in calm acknowledgment. He did not betray a hint of fear. ‘I thought so.’

‘Out of curiosity, why did you refuse the money?’

‘My paintings describe poverty and death. If I became a millionaire overnight, my art would die.’

Smoothbore nodded. ‘Your art will live on. I truly do like your painting.’ He raised his gun.

‘Wait a moment. You said you were fulfilling a contract. Can I sign one with you?’

Smoothbore nodded again. ‘Of course.’

‘My death doesn’t matter, but I want you to avenge her.’ The artist pointed to where the scavenger lay amid the garbage.

‘Let me rephrase your request in the language of my profession:you want to contract me to process an order of work, the same units that contracted me to process you and this other unit.’

Smoothbore gravely assented, ‘Not a problem.’

‘I have no money.’

Smoothbore laughed, ‘You sold me that painting far too cheaply. It has already paid for this job.’

‘Then, thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. I am merely honoring a contract.’

Snubnose’s muzzle spat deadly fire once more.

‘There was no need for that.’

The voice came from behind Smoothbore. He whirled around again and saw a person standing in the center of the landfill, a man. He wore a leather jacket almost identical to Smoothbore’s own, and he looked young but otherwise unremarkable. The blue light from the ring of stars glinted in his eyes.

Smoothbore lowered his gun and trained it away from the newcomer,but he lightly squeezed the trigger. Snubnose’s hammer rose unhurriedly to the fully-cocked position, ready to fire at the slightest touch.

‘Are you police?’ Smoothbore asked casually.

The stranger shook his head.

‘Then go call them.’

The man stood still.

‘I will not shoot you in the back. I only process work specified in my contract.’

‘Currently, we are not to intervene in human affairs.’ the man replied evenly.

His words struck Smoothbore like a bolt of lightning. His grip slackened, and the hammer of his revolver fell back into place. He peered closely at the stranger. In the glow of the starships, he was, by all appearances, an ordinary man.

‘You’ve… already landed, then?’ Smoothbore asked, an uncommon waver in his voice.

‘We landed quite some time ago.’

Standing atop a landfill somewhere on Fourth Earth, a long silence settled over the two individuals from different worlds. The thick, warm air suddenly felt stifling. Smoothbore wanted to say something, anything,and the events of the past few days prompted a question: ‘Are there poor people and rich people where you come from?’

The First Earthling smiled and said, ‘Of course. I am poor.’ He gestured towards the ring of stars above them. ‘As are they.’

‘How many people are up there?’

‘If you mean those of us in the ships you can see now, about five hundred thousand. But we are just the vanguard. Ten thousand more ships will arrive in a few years from now, carrying one billion.’

‘A billion?’ wondered Smoothbore. ‘They… can’t all be poor, can they?’

‘Every last one.’ confirmed the alien.

‘How many people are there on First Earth?’

‘Two billion.’

‘How can so many people on one world be poor?’

‘How can so many people on one world not be poor?’ countered the alien.

‘I would think,’ Smoothbore said, ‘that too many poor people would destabilize a world, which would make things difficult for the middle and upper classes as well.’

‘At this stage of Fourth Earth’s development, that is true.’

The First Earthling bowed his head and considered this, and then replied, ‘Why don’t I tell you the story of the rich and poor of First Earth?’

‘I’d like to hear it.’ Smoothbore tucked Snubnose back into his underarm holster.

‘Our two human civilizations are remarkably similar,’ began the alien. ‘The paths you follow now, we travelled before you, and we, too,lived through an era similar to your present. Although the distribution of wealth was uneven, our society struck a certain balance. The population,rich and poor alike, was a manageable size, and it was commonly believed that wealth inequality would disappear as society progressed. Most people looked forward to an age of perfect prosperity and great harmony. But we soon discovered that things were far more complicated than we had imagined, and the balance we had achieved would soon be destroyed.’

‘Destroyed by what?’

‘Education. You know that in the present age of Fourth Earth,education is the sole means of social ascendancy. If society is an ocean,stratified by differences in temperature and salinity, then education is a pipe that connects the ocean floor to the surface, and prevents the complete isolation of each layer.’

‘So you’re saying that fewer and fewer poor people could afford to attend university?’

‘Yes. The cost of higher education grew increasingly expensive, until it became a privilege reserved for the sons and daughters of the social elite. However, the price of traditional education did have limits, even if they were only crude market considerations, so while the pipe grew gossamer-thin, it did not vanish completely. But one day, the appearance of a dramatic new technology fundamentally changed education.’

Smoothbore hazarded a guess. ‘Do you mean the ability to transmit knowledge directly to the brain?’

‘Yes, but the direct infusion of knowledge was only part of it. A human brain could be implanted within a supercomputer with a capacity that far exceeded that of the brain itself; the inventoried knowledge of the computer could then be recalled by the implantee as distinct memories.’ The alien continued, ‘But this was only one of the computer’s secondary functions. It was an amplifier of intelligence, an amplifier of understanding, and it could raise human thought to a whole new level.Suddenly, knowledge, intelligence, depth of thought – even perfection of mind, character, and aesthetic judgment – were commodities that could be purchased.’

‘Must have been expensive.’ observed Smoothbore.

‘Incredibly so. Expressed in your current monetary terms, the cost of this premium education for a single person was equivalent to buying two or three one hundred fifty square meter apartments in one of Shanghai or Beijing’s prime neighborhoods.’

‘Even if it cost that much, there would still be a few who could afford it.’

Smoothbore hesitated. ‘Rich people and poor people were no longer the same… the same…’

‘The rich and the poor were no longer the same species. The rich were as different to the poor as the poor were to dogs. The poor were no longer people.’

Smoothbore gasped. ‘That must have changed everything.’

‘It changed many things. First, the factors you mentioned that maintained a balance of wealth and limited the poor population, ceased to exist. Even if dogs outnumbered humans, they would be unable to destabilize the foundations of human society. At worst, the disruption would be a nuisance but unthreatening.’ The alien frowned. ‘Though the willful killing of a dog might be a punishable offense, it is not like killing a person. When human health and safety is threatened by rabies, it is judged acceptable to put all dogs down. Sympathy for poor people hinged on one shared characteristic – personhood. When the poor ceased to be people, and all commonalities between rich and poor vanished, sympathy followed suit. This was humanity’s second evolution. When we first split from apes, it was due to natural selection. When we split from the poor, it was due to an equally sacred law: the inviolability of private property.’