(Twenty-Three) “First Overnight Shift”
Underground parking garage. Morse stared at those five words without speaking right away. It was where he worked now, where he had worked his first overnight shift, and the place where he had always believed his life had finally begun to settle into something fixed. But now someone was telling him—that was where he had first truly parted ways with Asti, Aida, and his partner.
“When?” Morse asked.
The woman in Mingri Shop didn’t answer. She simply pushed the cup of black liquid toward Morse. “You’ll know when you finish it.”
Morse looked down. It wasn’t coffee. The liquid was black, as if it contained no light.
Asti immediately reached out and covered the rim of the cup. “Don’t drink it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“The thing you’ve said the most today is ‘I don’t know.’”
“Then don’t drink it!”
Morse glanced at her. “Okay.” He really didn’t drink it.
Asti froze for a moment. “…Why are you being so obedient this time?”
“You told me not to drink it.”
“So?”
“So I won’t drink it.”
“Since when were you this easy to talk to?”
“You never told me not to drink anything before.”
His partner stood beside them. “Can you two stop having this pointless conversation for a minute?”
Morse looked at her. “Are you jealous?”
“I’m seriously going to hit you.”
Asti couldn’t help laughing. The woman from Mingri Shop laughed too, but her smile vanished almost immediately. “Good. The fact that you can still argue like this means you haven’t forgotten who you are.”
Morse looked at her. “Who are you, exactly?”
“Me?” The woman leaned against the counter. “I just run the shop.”
“A clerk at Mingri Shop?”
“What else would I be?”
“Then do you know where Aida is?”
The woman nodded. “I do.”
“Is she still alive?”
“That question is meaningless.”
Morse frowned. “Why?”
“Because ‘alive’ only applies to people acknowledged by the world.” She looked at Asti. “She isn’t one of them now.”
Asti’s smile disappeared. “Then what is she?”
“Someone who hasn’t decided who she wants to become yet.”
That left Asti silent. The woman looked at his partner next. “You too.”
His partner frowned. “Me?”
“You don’t even have a name yet.”
His partner froze. The woman was right. In Absence, her name had already been erased. Everyone called her “Partner,” but that was only a form of address, not a name.
“Then what’s my name?”
The woman smiled faintly. “You decide.”
“What if I don’t know?”
“Then keep being Partner.”
“Besides, the name suits you pretty well.”
For the first time, his partner wore a slightly bewildered expression.
Morse, however, didn’t look at either of them again. He stared at the three drinks on the table. “The black one is mine?”
The woman nodded. “The purple one is Asti.”
“The clear one is hers.” Morse looked at his partner.
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t written into it.”
His partner lowered her head and stared at the clear drink. It had no scent, no color, not even any bubbles—like a glass of water whose existence had been forgotten. She suddenly reached for it. “I’ll drink it.”
Morse grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”
His partner looked at him. “Weren’t you the one who said you wouldn’t drink?”
“You can’t drink it either.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
His partner gave a cold laugh. “Great. Now you’re the one saying it.”
Morse: “…”
Beside him, Asti laughed so hard her shoulders shook. “Karma.”
Morse glared at her. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re laughing too loudly.”
“Then I’ll laugh quietly.”
The woman from Mingri Shop watched the three of them, but her expression grew more and more complicated. At last, she said softly, “I see.”
Morse turned his head. “See what?”
“This time…” The woman looked at Asti. “You really did keep him here.”
Morse froze. “What does that mean, you kept me here?”
The woman didn’t answer. She reached behind the counter and pulled out an old security monitor. The screen showed nothing but static. She pressed play. The image came alive. Timestamp: ten years ago.
Morse’s breath caught. The underground parking garage looked much more run-down than it did now. The walls hadn’t been repainted, the lights were dim, and the security camera angle was strange too.
On-screen, twenty-nine-year-old Morse was organizing things in the security office. It was the day of the birthday cake they had just seen. But this time, the footage didn’t stop at the birthday. It continued.
11:11 p.m. A girl walked into the parking garage. Short black hair, a purple jacket, a paper bag in her hand. Asti. But she wasn’t the Asti of today.
She walked to the security-office door and knocked. Knock. Knock. Knock. Young Morse looked up. “Come in.”
The girl pushed the door open. “Happy birthday.”
Morse stared at the screen. “Isn’t this the footage from before?”
The woman shook her head. “No. This is the original record.”
On-screen, the girl set down the cake. “Twenty-nine.”
Young Morse smiled. “I know.”
“You don’t know.”
“I know.”
“You don’t even know what day it is.”
“That’s because I’ve been really busy lately.”
“Busy parking cars?”
“Yeah.”
“…” The girl was so annoyed that she laughed.
Then she suddenly asked, “Morse.”
“Hmm?”
“If one day you found out I wasn’t human…”
Young Morse froze. “What?”
The girl didn’t smile. “I said, if one day you found out I wasn’t human, what would you do?”
Young Morse looked at her. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Then I’d find a way to make you human.”
The girl stared at him. “What if you couldn’t?”
“Then I’d stay with you while you weren’t human.”
The girl lowered her head and smiled. “You’re really stupid.”
“Thanks.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know.”
Morse stared at the footage. A sudden, indescribable pain rose in his chest, because he had no memory of this conversation at all.
“What day was this?”
“Your birthday,” the woman answered.
“I know. I mean, it wasn’t February 18.”
Morse froze. The woman pointed at the upper-right corner of the screen. The date read: March 18.
Morse’s pupils tightened. “Impossible.”
“Why?”
“My birthday isn’t in March.”
“I know.” The woman smiled. “That’s why this was the first error.”
The footage continued. 11:17 p.m. All the lights in the underground parking garage suddenly went out. The girl looked up, and young Morse stood too. The sound of a train came from the distance. They both looked toward the entrance, but there were no tracks there—only the parking garage.
The girl’s expression changed. “It’s here.”
Young Morse asked, “What is?”
“The train.”
“There’s no station here.”
“There is now.”
The next second, the floor of the parking garage split open on-screen. A set of tracks rose from beneath the concrete. The girl grabbed Morse. “Run!”
They started running toward the exit. But young Morse suddenly stopped. “You go ahead.”
The girl looked back. “What?”
“I still have something.”
“What?”
Morse didn’t answer. He turned back toward the security office. On the desk sat the birthday cake, along with a sheet of paper.
The girl seemed to notice something. Her face instantly went deathly pale. “Morse.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t touch that paper.”
Morse had already reached out and picked it up. There was only one sentence on it: “If you want her to become human, kill her.”
Asti suddenly covered her mouth. His partner’s expression changed too.
Morse stared at the screen. “Who wrote this?”
The woman didn’t answer. On-screen, young Morse looked at the paper. The girl stood behind him. “Don’t believe it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the train’s command.”
“It wants you dead?”
“No.” The girl shook her head. “It wants you to believe…” She looked at Morse. “I have to die.”
The next second, the security-camera feed distorted. Static. Black screen. When it returned, only Morse remained in the footage. The girl was gone.
“What about Asti?” Morse spun around. Asti was gone. His partner was gone too. Only the woman remained in Mingri Shop.
Morse shot to his feet. “Where did they go?”
The woman didn’t answer. Morse charged straight out of the shop. Outside was not Platform Zero, but the underground parking garage. The underground parking garage from ten years ago. The lights were dim and yellow, and the air was thick with the smell of motor oil and dust.
Morse stopped in front of the security office. The door was open. Inside, Asti stood before the desk, with his partner beside her. On the desk sat a birthday cake, and beside it lay a sheet of paper.
Asti reached out and picked it up. Morse immediately shouted, “Don’t touch it!”
Asti turned around. “But…”
“Put it down.”
She looked at him, then slowly placed the paper back on the desk. “Do you know what it says?”
Morse didn’t answer. His partner walked over and glanced down. The next second, her expression changed. The words on the paper were changing. The original sentence, “If you want her to become human, kill her,” slowly became, “If you want him to stay alive, kill him.”
Morse stared at the line. Asti saw it too. She suddenly laughed, very softly. “I see.”
Morse looked at her. “See what?”
Asti looked up, tears already falling. “This is why we first parted ways.” She pointed at Morse. “It wasn’t because you killed me. It was because…” She clenched the paper in her hand. “I chose to kill you.”
At that moment, footsteps sounded outside the security office. One step. Another. Another. Morse turned around. His younger self from ten years ago stood in the doorway, holding a black key he had never seen before. He looked at the present-day Morse without surprise, as if he had known all along that he would appear. Then he said:
“You finally came.”
Morse stared at him. “You knew I’d come?”
Young Morse nodded. “Because this is the first place where you…” He looked at Asti. “Killed me.”
(Twenty-Four) “The Place Where I Killed Myself”
“You finally came.” Young Morse stood in the doorway of the security office, the black key in his hand gleaming with a cold light beneath the dim yellow lamps.
Morse stared at him. “What did you just say?”
Young Morse didn’t repeat himself. He only looked at Asti. “She should remember.”
Asti’s face turned grim. “I don’t remember.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“You just don’t dare admit it.”
Morse stepped in front of Asti. “Who the hell are you?”
Young Morse smiled faintly. “Me?” He looked at Morse. “I’m you before you first wanted to save her, and you before you first decided to kill her.”
Morse fell silent. The two statements sounded contradictory, but he knew now that in this world, the most contradictory things were often closest to the truth.
His partner suddenly spoke. “That key.”
Young Morse looked at her. “What about it?”
“I’ve seen it before.”
Morse turned back. “Where?”
His partner didn’t answer. She only stared at the key as her expression gradually went blank. “I don’t know, but I remember it.” She reached out her hand.
Young Morse immediately pulled the key back. “Don’t touch it.”
His partner stopped. “Why?”
“Because this isn’t a key for opening doors.” He looked at her. “It’s for locking people up.”
Morse frowned. “Who?”
Young Morse looked at Asti. “Her.”
Asti’s face changed instantly. “Me?”
“More precisely…” Young Morse lifted the key. “It locks away the thing inside you that doesn’t belong to you.”
Morse immediately asked, “What thing?”
“A name.”
“Asti isn’t her name.”
Asti froze. Young Morse continued slowly, “That’s a name I gave her.”
Morse’s gaze darkened. “You?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Aida couldn’t remain in reality.”
Asti’s body shook. “So you gave her a different name?”
Young Morse nodded. “I gave her the name ‘Asti,’ so she would have an identity the world could accept. So she could work, live, and be remembered by other people.” He looked at the present-day Morse. “So you could fall in love with her.”
That last sentence left the entire security office silent.
Asti stared hard at him. “Then why did you try to kill me?”
Young Morse didn’t answer. Morse asked for her. “Why?”
“Because I discovered something.” Young Morse looked at the paper on the desk. “A name isn’t protection. It’s a lock. I gave her the name ‘Asti’ because I wanted her to remain in reality. But once the name took hold, the train could find her.”
Morse’s pupils tightened slightly. “So…”
“She didn’t become human because she became Asti,” young Morse said. “She was re-identified by the train because she became Asti.”
Asti took a step back. “Then right now I…”
“Yes.”
“The train knows where I am?”
“It always has.”
She suddenly laughed, very softly. “No wonder.”
Morse looked at her. “No wonder what?”
“No matter where we hid, those things could always find me.” She lowered her head and looked at her hands. “I always thought it was because I was unlucky.”
His partner said quietly, “It’s not.”
Asti looked at her. His partner stared at her own hands. “It’s because of me.”
“What?”
“The name inside you was separated from me.”
Asti froze. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t have a name.” His partner looked up. “So the train can’t find me. But you have one, so the train can always find you.”
Morse suddenly understood. His partner wasn’t Asti’s other half. She was what remained after Asti’s name had been removed.
Young Morse suddenly tossed the key onto the desk. Clink. “So there are two choices now.”
Morse looked at him. “What choices?”
“First…” He pointed at Asti. “Kill her. Break the name, and the train will never find her again.”
Morse’s eyes turned cold.
“Second…” Young Morse looked at his partner. “Give the name back to her.”
His partner froze. “Give it back to whom?”
“Asti.”
“The part inside you belonged to her in the first place.”
His partner fell silent. Asti immediately shook her head. “No.”
Morse looked at her. “Why?”
“Because if she gives the name back to me…” Asti looked at his partner. “She’ll disappear.”
His partner didn’t deny it.
At that moment, Morse finally understood that this was the first choice. It wasn’t ‘Do we kill Asti or not?’ It was: Do they let his partner disappear? If they returned the name ‘Asti’ in full, Asti would become a complete person again, but his partner would disappear. If they didn’t, Asti would remain forever as an absent person the train could locate, while his partner would continue to exist. Only one of them could remain.
“So the first time…” Morse looked at his younger self. “What did I choose?”
Young Morse didn’t answer. Asti closed her eyes instead. “You chose me.”
Morse froze. “What?”
“You chose me.” She opened her eyes. “That’s why Partner exists.”
His partner turned sharply toward her. Asti smiled faintly, tears falling from her eyes. “The first time, you didn’t kill me. You killed…” She looked at his partner. “The complete me.”
The color drained from his partner’s face.
“No.” She shook her head. “No.”
Asti looked at her. “You don’t remember, which is why you keep saying no.”
“No!” His partner suddenly screamed. The lights in the security office began to flicker. “I remember! I remember you dying! I remember Morse holding you! I remember him calling your name over and over! I remember—”
Her voice suddenly caught, because she couldn’t remember that name. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of it. “…I remember.” She began to gasp for breath. “I remember…I…I’m called…”
There was no name. Only blank space.
Morse walked over. “Stop trying to remember.”
His partner grabbed his hand. “No. I have to remember.”
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t even know who I am…” She looked up, her eyes red. “Then why should I stay?”
Morse didn’t answer.
Young Morse suddenly said, “Because I told you to stay.”
His partner whipped her head around. “What?”
“The first time…” Young Morse looked at her. “When she was about to die, I stripped the name from her and placed it inside you. Then I told you…” He paused. “‘Live on for me.’”
His partner went rigid. Morse went rigid too. Asti closed her eyes. She had finally remembered. “So…” She looked at his partner. “That day, I didn’t die.”
She looked at his partner. “You lived for me.”
His partner stood there in a daze. The next second, she suddenly laughed, though the sound was painfully ugly. “So I always thought I was your shadow.”
Asti said nothing.
“But I’m not.” His partner raised a hand and wiped away her tears. “I’m proof that you survived.”
Morse looked at her. “Yes.”
His partner turned toward him. “Don’t answer.”
Morse stopped. She looked at him. “Because right now I really want to hit you.”
“You actually made me live for her.”
“I was…”
“Shut up.” Morse actually shut up.
Asti sniffed beside them. “I want to hit you too.”
Morse looked at her. “You shut up too.”
“Why?”
“I’m in a terrible mood.”
“Good. You deserve it.”
In that moment, his partner suddenly laughed, and Asti laughed too. Morse looked at the two of them. He didn’t know why, but the scene filled him with a strange sense of familiarity, as if on some forgotten day, the three of them had once stood together like this. Except that time…one person had been missing in the end.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the security office. Not one person—many. A dense crowd of footsteps coming from deep inside the underground parking garage.
Asti’s smile disappeared. “Someone’s coming.”
Morse looked outside. The distant lights came on one after another. One. Two. Ten. Twenty. Beneath every light stood a person. They were all wearing underground parking garage attendant uniforms, and they were all looking down. Then the person at the front lifted his face.
Morse’s expression instantly froze.
It was his face.
A second. A third. A fourth. They were all him. The entire underground parking garage was filled with Morses of different ages. There was a twenty-year-old, a twenty-nine-year-old, a thirty-nine-year-old, and even one whose hair had already turned gray.
They all raised their heads at once, all looked toward the security office, and then all spoke at the same time:
“This time, who will you choose?”