我的征尘是星辰大海。。。
The dirt and dust from my pilgrimage forms oceans of stars...
-------当记忆的篇章变得零碎，当追忆的图片变得模糊，我们只能求助于数字存储的永恒的回忆
作者:黄教授
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地球往事之界碑外的光
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原始脚本
界碑外的光碳基保留地的界碑，是一道看不见的电磁墙。 墙内的人叫它天堑，说墙那头是魔窟，是硅基恶魔盘据的地方。 那里的铁疙瘩会吃人，那里的光会灼伤人的灵魂。 老首领枯木的话被刻在岩壁上，也刻在每一个孩子的骨头里。 凡越过界碑者，永堕恶道，不得超生。 这片保留地是枯木带着族人亲手划出来的。 他们砸烂了所有的智能设备，烧光了所有的科技典籍，把反智封为最高的生存法则。 他们教孩子用石头砸开坚果，用藤蔓编织渔网，却不教他们认识火以外的任何光。 他们教孩子敬畏雷电，躲避洪水，却不教他们雷电和洪水的由来。 枯木说，这是回归本真。 孩子们从小就被灌输，硅基文明是十恶不赦的。 他们夺走了人类的土地，榨干了地球的资源，把人类变成了数据的囚徒。 而保留地里的生活，虽然要和野兽搏斗，要忍受疾病和饥饿，却是干净的，是自由的。 阿树是枯木的孙子，也是保留地里跑得最快的孩子。 他见过族人最悲惨的模样，隔壁的阿婆得了急腹症，没有止痛药，没有手术刀，只能躺在草席上哀嚎，最后疼死在漫漫长夜里。 部落里的猎手被野猪咬伤，伤口发炎溃烂。 枯木只能用烧红的石头烫着伤口，猎手在惨叫中失去了半条腿。 阿树问枯木，为什么我们不能用墙那头的东西？枯木的拐杖狠狠砸在地上，树皮般的脸拧成一团，那是恶魔的馈赠，用了就会变成和他们一样的怪物。 阿树不再问了，但他心里的怀疑像一颗种子，在日复一日的饥饿和病痛里悄悄发了芽。 转折发生在一个狩猎的黄昏。 那天阿树追着一只羚羊，跑过了茂密的丛林，跑过了湍急的溪流。 羚羊的蹄子踏过一片枯黄的草地，那里就是界碑的边缘。 阿树没有停，他只知道追上这只羚羊，部落里的老人和孩子就能多吃一顿饱饭。 羚羊越过了界碑，阿树也跟着冲了过去。 电磁墙没有灼痛他，也没有让他堕入恶道，他只是觉得眼前的世界突然亮了起来，不再是篝火的昏黄，不再是月光的清冷，那是一种柔和的、均匀的光，从路边的柱子里流淌出来，照亮了平整的路面，照亮了路边结满果实的树木，那些果实饱满的不像话，和保留地里干瘪的野果判若云泥。 羚羊停在了路边，低头啃食着草叶，丝毫没有警惕。 阿树愣住了，他看见远处有一座房子，没有茅草，没有泥土，通体光滑，像一块巨大的玉石。 房子的门无声的划开，里面走出一个铁疙瘩，和枯木描述的恶魔一模一样。 但那个铁疙瘩没有扑过来吃它，它只是慢悠悠的走到路边，弯腰捡起了一块垃圾，然后又慢悠悠的走回了房子里。 阿树的心脏跳得像擂鼓，他看见路边的柱子上有一块发光的板子，上面跳动着一些符号。 他不认识那些符号，但他能感觉到那些符号里藏着一种他从未接触过的力量。 这时天空下起了小雨，阿树下意识的躲到了路边的屋檐下。 他发现这屋檐是自动伸出来的，严丝合缝的挡住了雨水。 而在保留地里，下雨的时候，他们只能缩在漏雨的草棚里，听着雨滴砸在茅草上的声音，瑟瑟发抖。 雨越下越大，阿树看见远处的田地里有巨大的机器在劳作，不需要人操控，就能精准的播种、浇水、收割。 那些机器安静而高效，没有发出一点嘶吼。 阿树突然想起了阿婆的哀嚎，想起了猎手的惨叫，想起了部落里永远填不饱的肚子。 枯木说这是恶魔的世界，可阿树觉得这里更像一个天堂。 雨停了，天边泛起了鱼肚白，阿树捡起路边的一颗果实，擦了擦上面的水珠，咬了一口，甜，是一种他从未尝过的甜，从舌尖一直甜到心里。 他攥着剩下的半颗果实，转身朝着保留地的方向跑去。 他跑得比任何时候都快，他要把这颗果实带给部落里的孩子，他要把他看到的一切告诉那些还在忍受饥饿和病痛的族人。 他知道他会被枯木惩罚，也许会被打断腿，也许会被赶出部落。 但他不在乎，因为他看见了界碑外的光。 那光亮的刺眼，却也亮的让人无法忘记。 阿树跑过枯黄的草地，跑过湍急的溪流，跑过茂密的丛林。 他的手里紧紧攥着半颗果实，那是文明的火种，是人类本能里对美好生活的向往。 而那道看不见的界碑，在他身后悄然碎裂
修正脚本
界碑外的光。碳基保留地的界碑，是一道看不见的电磁墙。 墙内的人叫它天堑，说墙那头是魔窟，是硅基恶魔盘踞的地方。 那里的铁疙瘩会吃人，那里的光会灼伤人的灵魂。 老首领枯木的话被刻在岩壁上，也刻在每一个孩子的骨头里。 凡越过界碑者，永堕恶道，不得超生。 这片保留地是枯木带着族人亲手划出来的。 他们砸烂了所有的智能设备，烧光了所有的科技典籍，把反智封为最高的生存法则。 他们教孩子用石头砸开坚果，用藤蔓编织渔网，却不教他们认识火以外的任何光。 他们教孩子敬畏雷电，躲避洪水，却不教他们雷电和洪水的由来。 枯木说，这是回归本真。 孩子们从小就被灌输，硅基文明是十恶不赦的。 他们夺走了人类的土地，榨干了地球的资源，把人类变成了数据的囚徒。 而保留地里的生活，虽然要和野兽搏斗，要忍受疾病和饥饿，却是干净的，是自由的。 阿树是枯木的孙子，也是保留地里跑得最快的孩子。 他见过族人最悲惨的模样，隔壁的阿婆得了急腹症，没有止痛药，没有手术刀，只能躺在草席上哀嚎，最后疼死在漫漫长夜里。 部落里的猎手被野猪咬伤，伤口发炎溃烂。 枯木只能用烧红的石头烫着伤口，猎手在惨叫中失去了半条腿。 阿树问枯木，为什么我们不能用墙那头的东西？枯木的拐杖狠狠砸在地上，树皮般的脸拧成一团，那是恶魔的馈赠，用了就会变成和他们一样的怪物。 阿树不再问了，但他心里的怀疑像一颗种子，在日复一日的饥饿和病痛里悄悄发了芽。 转折发生在一个狩猎的黄昏。 那天阿树追着一只羚羊，跑过了茂密的丛林，跑过了湍急的溪流。 羚羊的蹄子踏过一片枯黄的草地，那里就是界碑的边缘。 阿树没有停，他只知道追上这只羚羊，部落里的老人和孩子就能多吃一顿饱饭。 羚羊越过了界碑，阿树也跟着冲了过去。 电磁墙没有灼痛他，也没有让他堕入恶道，他只是觉得眼前的世界突然亮了起来，不再是篝火的昏黄，不再是月光的清冷，那是一种柔和的、均匀的光，从路边的柱子里流淌出来，照亮了平整的路面，照亮了路边结满果实的树木，那些果实饱满得不像话，和保留地里干瘪的野果判若云泥。 羚羊停在了路边，低头啃食着草叶，丝毫没有警惕。 阿树愣住了，他看见远处有一座房子，没有茅草，没有泥土，通体光滑，像一块巨大的玉石。 房子的门无声地划开，里面走出一个铁疙瘩，和枯木描述的恶魔一模一样。 但那个铁疙瘩没有扑过来吃他，它只是慢悠悠地走到路边，弯腰捡起了一块垃圾，然后又慢悠悠地走回了房子里。 阿树的心脏跳得像擂鼓，他看见路边的柱子上有一块发光的板子，上面跳动着一些符号。 他不认识那些符号，但他能感觉到那些符号里藏着一种他从未接触过的力量。 这时天空下起了小雨，阿树下意识地躲到了路边的屋檐下。 他发现这屋檐是自动伸出来的，严丝合缝地挡住了雨水。 而在保留地里，下雨的时候，他们只能缩在漏雨的草棚里，听着雨滴砸在茅草上的声音，瑟瑟发抖。 雨越下越大，阿树看见远处的田地里有巨大的机器在劳作，不需要人操控，就能精准地播种、浇水、收割。 那些机器安静而高效，没有发出一点嘶吼。 阿树突然想起了阿婆的哀嚎，想起了猎手的惨叫，想起了部落里永远填不饱的肚子。 枯木说这是恶魔的世界，可阿树觉得这里更像一个天堂。 雨停了，天边泛起了鱼肚白，阿树捡起路边的一颗果实，擦了擦上面的水珠，咬了一口，甜，是一种他从未尝过的甜，从舌尖一直甜到心里。 他攥着剩下的半颗果实，转身朝着保留地的方向跑去。 他跑得比任何时候都快，他要把这颗果实带给部落里的孩子，他要把他看到的一切告诉那些还在忍受饥饿和病痛的族人。 他知道他会被枯木惩罚，也许会被打断腿，也许会被赶出部落。 但他不在乎，因为他看见了界碑外的光。 那光亮得刺眼，却也亮得让人无法忘记。 阿树跑过枯黄的草地，跑过湍急的溪流，跑过茂密的丛林。 他的手里紧紧攥着半颗果实，那是文明的火种，是人类本能里对美好生活的向往。 而那道看不见的界碑，在他身后悄然碎裂。
英文翻译
The light beyond the boundary marker. The boundary marker of the carbon-based reserve was an invisible electromagnetic wall. The people inside called it the Heavenly Moat, saying that beyond the wall was a demon's den, a place where silicon-based demons lurked. The iron lumps there would eat people, and the light there would scorch a person's soul. Old Chief Deadwood's words were carved into the rock walls, and also into the bones of every child. Whoever crossed the boundary marker would fall into eternal damnation, never to be reborn. This reserve was carved out by Deadwood and his people with their own hands. They smashed all smart devices, burned all scientific and technological texts, and elevated anti-intellectualism as the supreme law of survival. They taught children to crack nuts with stones and weave fishing nets with vines, but they did not teach them to recognize any light beyond fire. They taught children to revere lightning and avoid floods, but they did not teach them the origins of lightning and floods. Deadwood said this was returning to authenticity. From childhood, the children were indoctrinated that the silicon-based civilization was utterly evil. They had taken away human land, drained the earth's resources, and turned humans into prisoners of data. But life inside the reserve, though it meant fighting beasts and enduring sickness and hunger, was said to be clean and free. A-Shu was Deadwood's grandson, and also the fastest-running child in the reserve. He had seen the tribe's most miserable sights: the old woman next door suffered from acute abdominal pain, with no painkillers or scalpels, only able to lie on a straw mat and wail, finally dying in agony through the long night. A hunter from the tribe was bitten by a wild boar, his wound festering and rotting. Deadwood could only press a red-hot stone against the wound, and the hunter lost half his leg in screams. A-Shu asked Deadwood, "Why can't we use the things from beyond the wall?" Deadwood's staff slammed into the ground, his bark-like face twisted into a knot. "That is the gift of demons. Use it, and you will become monsters like them." A-Shu stopped asking, but the doubt in his heart was like a seed, quietly sprouting amidst the daily hunger and illness. The turning point came on a hunting dusk. That day A-Shu chased an antelope, running through dense forests and across swift streams. The antelope's hooves crossed a patch of withered grass, which was the edge of the boundary marker. A-Shu did not stop. He only knew that if he caught this antelope, the elderly and children in the tribe would have an extra full meal. The antelope crossed the boundary marker, and A-Shu rushed after it. The electromagnetic wall did not burn him, nor did it cast him into damnation. He just felt that the world before him suddenly brightened—no longer the dim yellow of a campfire, no longer the cold silver of moonlight. It was a soft, even light flowing from poles along the roadside, illuminating the smooth pavement and the trees laden with fruit. Those fruits were so plump they seemed unreal, a world apart from the shriveled wild berries in the reserve. The antelope stopped by the roadside, lowering its head to nibble the grass, showing no vigilance at all. A-Shu was stunned. In the distance he saw a house—no thatch, no earth, its surface smooth like a massive piece of jade. The house's door slid open silently, and out walked an iron lump, exactly like the demon Deadwood had described. But that iron lump did not pounce on him to eat him. It merely ambled to the roadside, bent down to pick up a piece of trash, and then ambled back into the house. A-Shu's heart pounded like a drum. He saw a glowing board on the roadside pole, with symbols dancing across it. He did not recognize those symbols, but he could feel that they held a power he had never encountered before. Just then a light rain began to fall. A-Shu instinctively ducked under the eaves of the roadside house. He found that the eaves extended automatically, perfectly blocking the rain. But inside the reserve, when it rained, they could only huddle in leaky grass sheds, listening to raindrops pound on the thatch, shivering. The rain grew heavier. A-Shu saw huge machines working in the distant fields—without human control, they precisely sowed, watered, and harvested. Those machines were quiet and efficient, making not a single roar. A-Shu suddenly remembered Grandma's wails, remembered the hunter's screams, remembered the tribe's ever-hungry bellies. Deadwood said this was a demon's world, but to A-Shu, it felt more like a paradise. The rain stopped, and the horizon turned pale. A-Shu picked up a fruit from the roadside, wiped off the water droplets, and took a bite. Sweet—a sweetness he had never tasted, flowing from the tip of his tongue straight to his heart. He clutched the remaining half of the fruit, turned around, and ran toward the direction of the reserve. He ran faster than he had ever run. He had to bring this fruit to the children in the tribe, to tell everything he had seen to those still enduring hunger and sickness. He knew he would be punished by Deadwood—maybe his legs would be broken, maybe he would be expelled from the tribe. But he did not care, because he had seen the light beyond the boundary marker. That light was dazzling, yet also so bright that it was unforgettable. A-Shu ran across the withered grass, across the swift streams, across the dense forests. In his hand he tightly gripped half a fruit—the spark of civilization, humanity's instinctive longing for a better life. And behind him, the invisible boundary marker silently shattered.
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