Chapter 522 - Discontent

At last, An Xi voiced the sentiment shared by the Law-Studies Club: "This state of emergency should be over by now!"

According to Executive Committee Resolution No. 1, passed by the General Assembly before departure, the period following D-Day was designated a state of emergency. Except for matters involving declarations of war, treaties, or major personnel reorganizations, all affairs were to be handled by the Executive Committee with full authority. This state was to last six months.

"By rights, the General Assembly should have convened this spring to decide the grand policy direction. But it's been a year and a half now, and the Executive Committee shows no intention of holding one. They haven't even gone through the motions of calling a meeting to extend the emergency another six months," An Xi complained.

The Law-Studies Club had organized this gathering not to hold a pointless grumble session but to drum up public opinion and urge the Executive Committee to convene the first post-D-Day General Assembly as soon as possible.

Problems were piling up: living standards, benefit distribution, power allocation, organizational structure… all had issues to varying degrees. Some were quite serious—especially the discontent among ordinary transmigrators over living standards and benefit distribution. If not resolved quickly, they would affect subsequent development and even the internal unity and stability of the transmigrated collective.

Once morale collapses, the team becomes unmanageable. Ma Jia, as a beneficiary of the existing system, wanted that system to remain stable, so he believed a General Assembly must be held—at the very least, to nail down the terms of benefit distribution within the collective and give the rank-and-file transmigrators some peace of mind.

Ma Jia and the Law-Studies Club had drafted a rough comprehensive solution to the many current problems, which they intended to pitch to the Executive Committee during the preparatory phase.

Of course, this had nothing to do with lofty ideals about popular interests or mass democracy. The Law-Studies Club hoped that this assembly would enshrine the principle of rule-by-law, thereby ensuring that Club members could snag official posts and form a stable judiciary. Such a need genuinely existed. As for Ma Jia's personal ambitions, he wanted to enter the Executive Committee. Ideally, he would wind up as Chief Justice in a future separation-of-powers system, or as a senior central political-legal official under a Communist model. Either would do.

"I think they've forgotten—or they simply don't intend to hold one," someone began sniping. "Long live Director Wen forever; the Director is eternally healthy."

"The iron ore at Tiandu is still in the ground, yet everyone's already talking about villas at Dadonghai."

"This trend is very bad! Very bad!"

Ma Jia saw the situation turning sour. He had not convened this gathering to stage a beer-hall putsch. He quickly signaled his fellow Club members to stop piling on with complaints and steer the conversation back to the main point—demanding an assembly.

"The current systemic problems are indeed serious—" Ma Jia had barely begun when he was cut off.

"System, my ass! Right now, officials are openly corrupt and degenerate!" Shan Liang, a technician from Lingao Telecom, rose to his feet. He had long been fed up with the Law-Studies Club's empty talkers; this time he stepped forward directly.

Ignoring Ma Jia entirely, he launched into his own loud monologue: "The first problem is unequal hardship. Some sit in offices; some shovel shit. Yes, there are policy tilts in the allowances, but that tilt is laughable! Take one example: in summer, the temperature in my equipment room hits 40°C. Can an office ever reach 40°? Which would you rather be in—an office or an equipment room?"

This stirred memories of the summer heat, especially among those in the Industry & Energy Commission or outdoor work. Someone shouted along, "That's right! Even with exhaust fans, the workshop was nearly 50°!"

"Exactly!" Shan Liang bellowed. "At least your workshop has a roof for shade. The site supervisors at the Construction Company and the ag-extension officers at the Agricultural Commission are out there working under the blazing sun."

This struck a chord; the murmur of agreement swelled.

"I think they've been leaders so long they've forgotten themselves," Sun Li, a machinist at the Machinery Works, spat on the ground. "What kind of damn business is this? I work as a fitter and an electrician at the Machinery Works—sixteen hours a day—while the leadership sits in offices issuing documents and holding meetings. I just want to know: who got to be a leader, and by what criteria?" He went on, "Take that guy Ji Runzhi, who got to be Sanya's planning director just by making a few crummy models! When it comes to contributions, if Sun Li and Xiao Gui hadn't hand-crafted the key parts, Li Di's little steam engine would never have been replicated. Is our contribution smaller than a few plaster models?"

"Nobody's saying your contribution is small." An Xi saw the situation deteriorating and rushed to defuse it. "Besides, he's in planning and design—you can't do development without a planner."

"That's really just an extension of the first problem," Shan Liang continued. "Yes, society has division of labor—that's a fact. I'm not asking everyone to work the shop floor or demanding absolute equality. But the administrative staff are bureaucratizing—even becoming corrupt—and everyone can see it, right?"

"I'll grant bureaucratization, but corruption seems a stretch…" Ma Jia attempted to defend the Executive Committee.

"A stretch? Let's talk about the personal-secretary issue," Shan Liang vented. "The secretary issue has been raised many times. What happened? Not a peep of follow-up. But there are plenty of restrictions—today a notice, tomorrow a warning: no relations with indigenous women, no casual adoption or purchase of indigenous girls… Fine, you won't let us—we accept that. But at least solve our physiological problems! Is that so hard?!"

"Treating the masses' interests as nothing is the hallmark of bureaucratization!" Sun Li chimed in.

"The moment someone becomes a cadre, they immediately get a personal secretary. Old Tang having a secretary—I understand; it's tough out there in the wilderness. But why does the cook get a secretary? And there's Chang Shide—supposedly bought three or four women. Isn't Leizhou Sugar common property? If he can buy slave girls, why can't we?"

Chang Shide's romantic fortunes were a favorite topic of gossip among Lingao's transmigrators. Mentioning it immediately sparked great indignation.

"Privilege! Corruption!" Shan Liang assumed an anguished expression. "Cadre appointments aren't transparent. A few Executive Committee members get together and decide. Where's the standard for cadre selection?"

"I'd say it's whoever's close to them," someone challenged. "What is Mo Xiao'an, anyway? What kind of light-industry expert is he? At least Wu Nanhai was an ag-university student!"

Ma Jia shifted uneasily. Mo Xiao'an was also a Law-Studies Club member; dragging him in was highly inappropriate.

"And that cook—suddenly promoted to factory director and deputy general manager, complete with a secretary. Who believes there's nothing going on between him and Wu Nanhai?!"

"Wu Nanhai is gay?"

"The man's romping with a mother-daughter pair at the Farm, and you think he'd choose to be gay?"

"Damn—I don't even have a skin flick to watch while I jerk off, yet someone's doing mother-daughter threesomes. What kind of world is this!"

"He's also got Chu Qing!"

"Rich men's gates reek of wine and meat while frozen bones litter the roadside."

…

Amid the clamor, someone struck a profound pose and said, "I have a bad feeling about the current trajectory. Those of us at the bottom have basically become tools. What the higher-ups are doing, what they plan to do—we're almost completely in the dark!"

"Exactly—they just put out a government bulletin to fool us."

"Never mind grand policy—just solve my electricity and women problems first!" one person said pragmatically.

"Without women, at least give us electricity. Otherwise, even jerking off is no fun. Imagination alone doesn't cut it!"

"Let's march to the Executive Committee right now and protest!"

"Yes! Let's go! If we don't knock these leaders down a peg now, we'll end up as Boxer the horse in the future!"

…

As public sentiment boiled, Ma Jia groaned inwardly. He was not worried about himself becoming Boxer from Animal Farm. He was a trained lawyer, keenly sensitive to institutional issues. The Executive Committee, as representatives elected by the transmigrators' General Assembly, had broken its own word and led the charge in violating the rules—a very dangerous signal. It was deeply damaging to the cohesion of the whole transmigrator community. Through his frequent contact with ordinary members, Ma Jia knew full well that the masses did have opinions, but most grievances centered on living conditions; there was relatively little discussion of grand policy.

If the rank and file were now incited to aim the spear of struggle directly at sensitive issues like the distribution of power, and if the Executive Committee mishandled the situation, the entire transmigrated collective could be thrown into turmoil—perhaps even split apart. That was something he did not want to see.

"Everyone, please calm down." An Xi worked hard to soothe tempers. "I'm sure the Executive Committee simply has too much on its plate and forgot. Besides, this past year and a half, Lingao has developed quite well."

"What good is a big, beautiful cake you never get a slice of?" Shan Liang retorted.

An Xi could not answer. Seeing him floundering, Ma Jia hurried forward: "The phenomena you describe certainly exist. But you can't conflate individual cases with the whole…"

"That line sounds awfully familiar," Shan Liang said mockingly. "You ought to go work for Ding Ding as a mouthpiece, not play court president."

Ma Jia was furious inside, feeling as though he had encountered a "troublemaker." He steadied himself and tried to stay composed: "I'm stating facts. Executive Committee privileges and corruption do exist, but they're not widespread." He continued, "As for Wu Nanhai's alleged mother-daughter threesome—who has proof that it actually happened?"

Silence fell. Wu Nanhai was ordinarily low-key, considered a nice guy by all. The so-called mother-daughter threesome was mostly collective fantasy. Besides, the mother of the Li family had been working at Bairen General Hospital all along; the daughter was only eight and, apart from helping out at the Farm on holidays, lived full-time at the National School as a boarding student.

(End of Chapter)