The kettle was still whistling, its sharp sound seeming to pierce the bulkhead.
Carl didn't stop; he walked straight over and unplugged the kettle. The water boiled, and white steam rose from the spout. He stared at the steam for two seconds, then suddenly smiled.
“This sound is really loud,” he said, “but it’s soothing to me.”
Chen Hao opened his eyes, his hand still resting on the control stick, as if afraid the spaceship might suddenly fly away on its own. He moved his wrist; the muscles were a little stiff, but he could still exert force.
"Don't just stand there." He stood up, leaning on the handrail, his waist snapping. "If I don't stretch my muscles, all this fat will grow into the chair."
Susan didn't move; she remained by the window. It was getting darker outside, and the wind whipped sand against the porthole, making a crackling sound. She stared at the dry riverbed, her eyes searching for something.
Nana closed the control panel, and the last row of green lights illuminated. The system's finalization process was complete, and the power supply switched to ground standby mode.
“Oxygen circulation is normal,” she said. “The outside air quality meets breathing standards.”
No one responded.
Carl placed the kettle on the counter, turned around, opened the storage cabinet, and pulled out four old cups. One of the cups had a crack at the bottom; he looked at it against the light, but still put hot water in it.
"Want a sip?" he asked.
Chen Hao waved his hand: "Wait a minute, let's go out first."
"Go out?" Karl looked up. "Aren't you afraid that this place has changed, and you'll get arrested the moment you step outside?"
"What are you going to arrest?" Chen Hao grinned. "We came back, we didn't run away. Besides, who knows us? A fat guy, a mechanic, a taciturn guy, and a tin man."
Nana stood still: "I suggest we first check if the communication signal has been restored."
“The signal isn’t that easy to lose.” Chen Hao had already walked to the cabin door, his finger on the manual unlock button. “If it really was gone, the kettle wouldn’t have made a sound just now.”
The door lock clicked open.
He yanked open the hatch, and a gust of wind rushed in, carrying the smell of earth and a hint of withered grass. Sunlight streamed in, instantly illuminating half of the cabin.
Chen Hao squinted and stood there for a few seconds before taking his first step.
The ground made a slight rustling sound when I stepped on it. The ground was hard, with some gravel, and the grass grew sparsely, which was a bit rough on the soles of my shoes.
“It really is the North Three Plains,” he called back. “They didn’t throw me into Antarctica.”
Carl followed closely behind, still clutching the cracked cup in his hand. He didn't rush off; instead, he looked down at the ground beneath his feet.
“This soil is whitish,” he said. “It’s very alkaline.”
Susan was the last to exit the cabin, and she moved very slowly. She stood on the steps without coming down, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight.
The wind blew her hair up and clung to her face. She didn't brush it away; she just stood there, gazing into the distance.
Nana came down last, her steps steady. Her optical lens automatically adjusted the amount of light, and the view changed from overexposed white to a clear image.
"The current temperature is 18.3 degrees Celsius," she reported. "The wind speed is 7.2 meters per second, blowing from the northwest."
Chen Hao stretched, his bones cracking. "It's much warmer than in space. It's so cold over there that even your snot freezes."
“Your runny nose is because the air conditioning is too strong,” Carl said. “It’s not because it’s cold outside.”
"It's all the same." Chen Hao kicked a stone. "Anyway, we don't need to worry about that pile of broken machines anymore."
He walked around to the side of the spaceship and patted the hull. The metal was cool and dusty.
“Old buddy,” he said, “at least you didn’t die halfway through.”
Carl took off his shoes and socks and stuffed them into his tool bag. He stepped barefoot into a clump of dry grass, and his feet immediately felt hot.
"Ouch!" He pulled his foot back, then stepped back. "This grass is so hot from the sun, it feels like a branding iron when I step on it."
"Do you remember when you were little?" Susan suddenly asked, her voice not loud. "After school in the summer, we would crawl into the haystacks, lie down for a while, and our clothes would smell burnt."
Carl looked up at her: "You were wearing a skirt back then, so you didn't dare to lie flat."
"Who told you to keep stuffing grass stalks down people's necks?"
"That's called friendly interaction."
Chen Hao laughed out loud: "You two still remember this? I thought only a piece of trash like me would remember such trivial things."
“You’re a piece of trash anyway,” Carl said.
“But I came back alive,” Chen Hao said, shrugging. “And I brought back two lunatics and a robot.”
Nana stood behind them, not moving forward. She was scanning the surrounding terrain, data scrolling through the internal interface.
“Three traces of small animal activity were detected,” she said. “They were about 500 meters away, moving slowly, and were initially identified as local rodents.”
“Sounds like rats,” Carl said. “Looks like this place isn’t completely deserted yet.”
Susan squatted down and grabbed a handful of soil. She rubbed it between her fingers, and the soil particles slipped through her fingers.
“It’s alkaline soil,” she said. “When I was a child, the school showed us aerial footage and said that this land couldn’t be cultivated for ten years. Now… it doesn’t seem to have changed.”
"As long as grass grows, it's fine," Chen Hao said. "At least you won't sink in with one step."
He looked up at the sky. The trajectory of the spaceship was still high in the sky, like a pale gray line, slowly being dispersed by the wind.
"It didn't explode in front of our house," he said. "It's good that it was smart."
Carl pulled an old lighter from his toolbox; it had a brass casing and its edges were worn smooth. He struck it, and a flame leaped out.
He pulled out another piece of paper, crumpled and covered with writing.
“A fault log,” he said. “I started keeping it from the day we set off. Every time it broke down, I wrote it down.”
He held the paper close to the flames, and one corner caught fire, the flames spreading along the edge.
The paper curled up, turned black, and the ashes were blown away by the wind.
"The bad days are over," he said. "From now on, I'll have to pick a good time to fix things."
As the fire died down, Susan whispered, "We're really back."
“That’s right.” Chen Hao kicked the sand. “I’m still hungry. You mean that packet of instant noodles in the kitchen…”
“It’s three months past its expiration date,” Carl reminded him.
"Why talk about an expiration date after it's landed?" Chen Hao glared at him. "It's spiritual nourishment."
Nana then took two steps forward and stood between them.
“The local communication network has been identified,” she said. “The signal strength is moderate; you can try connecting.”
“Then let’s call home first, let my mom know that her son didn’t die out there.” Chen Hao said, “Let’s call home first, let my mom know that her son didn’t die out there.”
"Does your phone still have battery?" Carl asked.
"I have to tell them even if there's no power." Chen Hao reached into his pocket. "At worst, I'll yell at the cell tower."
Susan looked down at the terminal on her wrist. The screen lit up, searching for a signal.
“My dad’s number is still there,” she said, “as long as he hasn’t changed it.”
"Where's Carl?" Chen Hao turned his head. "Who are you contacting?"
"The bathhouse," he said. "I'll take a hot shower first, and we'll talk about the rest later."
"You're so realistic," Chen Hao shook his head. "Can't you think of something romantic? Like meeting your first love?"
“Why would I see her?” Carl shrugged. “She thought I was dirty back then, but I’m dirtier now.”
Nana turned on the communication module and entered the basic protocol code. A few seconds later, a prompt sounded.
"Connection successful," she said. "You can send text messages now."
"I'll do it." Chen Hao took over the operation and opened the contacts. He found a name he had saved for more than ten years and hovered his finger over the send button.
He paused for two seconds, then pressed the button.
“Hello,” he said, “it’s me. I’m back.”
There was no sound from the other end, but he continued, "I'm not dead, and I haven't gotten rich either. I've just lost some weight—just kidding, I'm even fatter now. I'm on the North Three Plains, at the A-9 landing site. If you don't believe me, you can come and see for yourself; the spaceship is still here."
He hung up the call and handed the terminal back.
"It's all done," he said. "Now I'll wait for a reply."
The wind picked up, making their clothes stick to their backs. The setting sun hung low, casting long shadows of the four people.
Nana stood at the very edge, and the camera was slightly focused to capture this moment.
“The record has been saved,” she said. “The journey is over, and survival mode is back to normal.”
"What's the normal state?" Chen Hao asked.
“Daily activities,” she said, “including eating, resting, socializing, and resupplying.”
"You're making it sound like a menu," Carl laughed. "So what's the first course?"
"Eat your food," Chen Hao patted his stomach, "and then go to sleep. We can worry about tomorrow tomorrow."
Susan looked into the distance and suddenly said, "I want to go to the river."
“That dry river?” Karl asked.
"Um."
"I'll go," Chen Hao raised his hand. "Anyway, I have nothing else to do."
“I’m going too.” Carl stuffed the cup back into his bag. “Walk slowly, my feet are burning hot.”
Nana did not object. She shut down all flight system power, leaving only basic monitoring enabled.
The four people walked along the tracks left by the spaceship. The ground was covered with tire tracks, some deep and some shallow, stretching all the way to the horizon.
The setting sun cast long shadows behind them, making their shadows grow longer and longer until they almost merged into one.
The wind blew across the wasteland, and the grass rustled as it moved.
Chen Hao walked at the front, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders swaying.
Susan lagged half a step behind, her gaze never leaving the riverbed.
Carl muttered to himself as he walked, "I should have brought a pair of slippers."
Nana walked at the back, her steps steady.
Her camera took one last look back at the spaceship.
The ship lay quietly on the wasteland, its hull covered in dust, like a weary old beast finally coming to a stop.
She turned back and continued forward.
On the horizon ahead, a blurry ravine gradually became clear.
It was a riverbed that had been dry for a long time, its bottom cracked and covered with fissures like tortoise shell patterns.
Chen Hao stopped and pointed to one of the cracks.
“Look,” he said, “aren’t there shimmering water inside?”
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