China Mountain Zhang by Maureen F McHugh

Author:Maureen F McHugh
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, sf, General
ISBN: 9780312860981
Publisher: Tor
Published: 1992-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Haibao helps me with my engineering, a classmate, Wai Ling Zhung Fan, graciously helps me with my engineering. Even Xiao Chen, who knows nothing about engineering, uses my notes to ask me about my engineering. The midterm examination is very difficult, I work until the end of the hour and still do not get a real answer for question 6. I walk out despondent, knowing that I missed at least three questions completely, and parts of many others. For days I will not stop at the Professor’s office and look at the grades posted on a flimsie on the door. But the Professor’s office is next to my Practical Applications class (my tool handling class) so one day I simply go and look. And I have passed the engineering midterm with a score of 62 points out of 100 which on the grade curve is a 86%! I didn’t know there would be a curve! I thought a 62 would be a failing grade!

Of course I go straight up to the arcade (the university is the base on which the four towers rest.) I take the lift to his flat and then stand outside his door in an agony of apprehension. I have never come on Haibao unannounced. And each day it is problematical as to whether Haibao will be pleased to see me or too despondent to care. Some days he is all wit and languid charm. Some days he is silent and withdrawn. Always he knows I am coming.

I imagine him opening the door smiling. Open the door frowning. Someone else there.

So I go back to the lift, take it back down and call from the arcade. I jack in and think the numbers in careful Chinese-the system will understand English, and thinking out the call in Chinese is not second nature yet, but it’s good practice to do everything in Chinese. Then there is a wait so long that I think he is gone. Perhaps in a meeting with his thesis professor? Not that I have ever seen Haibao work on his thesis, but then I’m never there during the day.

“Wai,” he says, Chinese for ‘Hey’ and the way everyone answers the phone. No vid, sound only.

“Venerable teacher,” I say, “this is your undeserving student.”

“Who?” he says, he sounds as if he has just woken up.

“Zhang,” I say. “It’s Zhang. Did I call at a bad time?”

“Zhang?” he says. “No, you didn’t call at a bad time. What is it? Something wrong?”

“No, I just wanted to tell you I passed my engineering midterm. And say thank you for your help.”

“Oh, you passed? Excellent.” He is trying to sound interested, pleased, but the effort is apparent in his voice.

“An 86%,” I say.

“An 86%?” he says, “so high? When did you find out? I thought you weren’t going to check.”

“I had to, better to know the worst than anticipate. I just wanted to tell you, I didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll see you tomorrow evening as usual?”

“Right, right.” A pause.

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