CHAPTER FIVE: MENGJAI
Mengjai was an ordinary child at birth and so his mother worried over him. Kati felt no mental presence while he was in her womb, and his birth was not unusual, only a perfectly formed newborn, crying when uncomfortable and demanding to be fed.
Huomeng was thrilled to have a son and fussed over him constantly, the bond between them immediate, and strong from the very beginning.
The bond between mother and son came much later, for Kati was constantly distracted by Yesui, who showed jealousy and disdain for her brother before he was even born. He does not talk to me. There's something wrong with him, complained Yesui, before Mengjai's birth.
"He's not like you," said Kati, "but he's your brother, dear. He will be your playmate, and as an older sister you will have things to teach him."
But these were things not destined to happen soon. Yesui ignored her brother, and from his first day on Shanji was constantly after her mother for attention.
For four years, the palace of the Empress of Shanji was in an uproar. Kati could not escape Yesui, even in meetings with the nobles, or sessions of the People's Congress.
I want to see Da. He's been gone three days.
Not now. I'm busy, Yesui.
Then I'll go alone. I want to see what he's doing.
You will not. You wait for me!
I won't. And she was gone, at that instant. Kati would rush back to her apartments to find Yesui sprawled unconscious on her own bed, Weimeng in tears, wringing her hands in dispair, and then she would have to sit down and go after her daughter through the gong-shi-jie to the mother ship where Huomeng was supervising the loading of building materials on still another freighter bound for Tengri-Nayon.
She's here again, darling. I was just talking to her.
That's all good and well, but you know she shows no aural presence in real space, and now she's silent.
Yesui, you go back with your mother! If you don't, right now, I won't talk to you again when you come here.
Da! No!
Do it!
Something would always happen: the cables of a loading crane thrumming as if plucked by a giant hand, a massive packing cylinder suddenly assuming a higher orbit in the blink of an eye as Yesui vented her displeasure. Kati would make two transitions in an instant, head spinning as she opened her eyes to find Yesui crying on the bed, and Weimeng trying to comfort her.
The tantrums lessened somewhat when Huomeng explained to her how she was endangering the lives of people with her outbursts, and he talked Kati into allowing Yesui definite times to make the short hop to the mother ship when he was there. "Let her play alone a little in the gong-shi-jie," he explained. "As long as she stays close, it will be good for her."
Kati agreed reluctantly, and rightly so, for Yesui's "playtime" only led to further problems. A bronze vase in the childrens' room was found melted into slag. Yesui didn't like it there, and said her brother had laughed at the pretty colors of the light she'd used. Kati became fearful of her daughter burning down the entire palace in a snit. Things disappeared: unwanted clothing, old toys, a picture reader for children's stories that had ceased to function. When Kati questioned Yesui, the child only said she'd thrown them away, yet the reader by itself massed forty kilograms.
It was little better in the gong-shi-jie, even when Abagai was there. When she and Kati drifted together in quiet conversation, Yesui was always darting off somewhere, making them go after her. She was easy to find when she wanted to be found, her manifestation now a great, featureless fan of emerald green. But she could turn it off and on at will and often hid from them, giggling until they threatened to leave her.
Their meetings were infrequent, only two or three times a year, but the bond between Abagai and Yesui was immediate and trusting, the child focusing on every word the woman said. Her mind was like a sponge, absorbing everything with total recall at will. The ability to see the aural signatures of stars and planets had been with her at birth, and it was obvious that her "playtime" activities took her far from Shanji. The aural patterns were already fixed in Yesui's mind, well beyond the gaseous giants of Shanji's system, when they began to train her.
They took her to Tengri-Nayon and beyond, clear to the rim of the galactic wheel, and Yesui saw the violet light there.
This is different. It comes and goes, and I can see it faintly on the other side, said Yesui, after making the transition to and from real space there. Abagai and Kati were mystified by this, for beyond the galactic edge they could see only empty space.
Yesui played with the violet light, creating flickering, dark spaces in the gong-shi-jie, then complaining, It won't move right. It's sticky. So they returned to their own systems, Abagai warning Yesui about the terribly twisted space within the deep-red vortex of a star whose density was beyond imagination, and showing her more patterns she needed for her travel alone in the place of creation.
Those early days together in the gong-shi-jie would always be fond memories for Kati. They traveled leisurely, and talked, Yesui played, and all of it was without focused purpose or mission. And after their returns, Yesui would be well-behaved for days, playing quietly in her room without torturing her brother with tricks. There was only one incident to mar this record, but it was a terrible one, and it occured when Yesui was six.
It was evening, and Kati was working at her desk. Huomeng had gone to bed early and was snoring peacefully across the room from her, just back from another thirty days in space. They had made love earlier, to celebrate his return, and Kati still basked in the warm afterglow of it. To give them privacy, Weimeng had volunteered to put the children to bed.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the childrens' apartment next door to hers. Kati pushed back her chair, and started to get up as Weimeng burst into the room, crying out, "I'm sorry. You have to come. Mengjai is hysterical, and I can do nothing with him. Yesui has done something."
Kati rushed from the room, Huomeng shouting behind her, "What's going on?"
Mengjai sat on the floor in the middle of the room, crying his little heart out with racking sobs and kneading his hands in a pile of blackened debris looking like dirt and fabric shards mixed together. Yesui was huddled in a corner like a frightened, trapped animal, and she burst into tears when she saw her mother.
Kati picked up Mengjai, tried to comfort him, but he shrieked, and struggled.
"They were fighting over a toy, the big, stuffed mythical animal Mengjai got for his birthday," said Weimeng. "You know how he loved that animal, even slept with it."
"Yes."
"Well, Yesui took it away from him; he pounced on her and took it back, and then it just disappeared, poof, as if it was smoke. I couldn't believe my eyes."
"Yesui?" said Kati sternly. "What did you do with it?"
Her sobs were like hiccups. "I—I took it—away—where—he couldn't—get it."
"Yesui!" said Kati angrily. Huomeng came up behind her, took Mengjai from her, and the boy clung to him, arms around his neck, crying mournfully.
"What has she done now?" he growled.
Yesui looked like she'd just been struck. "Da! I brought it back! I—brought it—back." She looked at the pile of debris on the floor, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
"And that's what's left of it," said Kati, pointing.
"How could you be so cruel to your brother?" screamed Huomeng. "You are becoming a bad person!" He turned, and carried his son out of the room, mumbling to himself.
"DA!" screamed Yesui, and then she leaned her head against the wall; her eyes rolled upwards, eyelids fluttering.
And she was gone, her body limp.
"Aiyee!" screamed Weimeng.
Kati sat down on the floor, breathed deeply twice, and closed her eyes. A flash of purple stars, then the swirl of colors and a flash of green.
Yesui!
No answer. Kati began her search, remembering that no time would pass in the room she'd just left, and so she tried hard to be patient. But for her consciousness, time did pass, and it seemed forever. Yesui could be anywhere, perhaps already lost, beyond the range of her experience. Still, something held her in place: a presence, an overpowering feeling of both fear and sorrow. She'd sensed such a presence before, the first time Yesui had followed her to the gong-shi-jie. The child was nearby.
She drifted slowly. Yesui, come back to me. You've done a bad thing, but we still love you. Your father's anger will pass, and Mengjai will forgive you if you're not cruel to him anymore.
The presence was stronger, now. She neared the first signposts of the route to Abagai's special place, the huge, red vortex to her right. Yesui, please. We want you back with us. We'll get a new monster for Mengjai, and he'll be happy again. But he will miss his sister!
Ma! Ma—I can't!
Yesui, where are you?
Here! I—I can't get out!
Show yourself to me!
A flash of green. Kati's focus wavered, nearly driving her back to her own body when she saw Yesui's manifestation half-buried in the monstrous, red vortex that twisted real space into a singularity. She rushed to it, but dared not approach too closely, for she could already feel it pulling at her.
Ma! It's—it's pulling me in!
It's the great mass there!
I tried using the purple light, but it made it worse. The threads come so close together here. I'm stuck in a tiny hole, it's too tight! The green fan shook like a flame in high wind. Ma, I'm sinking more!
Get rid of the mass! Think it to here. Do what you did with the things in your room. Move the mass to the gong-shi-jie. Think it, Yesui, quickly! I don't want to lose you!
Yesui's manifestation jerked crazily. If I—can—stretch—the threads, then, Ma! Get back! It's COMING!
Kati reacted without thought, jumping to one side as a horrible, black thing erupted from the center of the vortex, writhing like a snake and breaking into branches, some reaching towards her. She fled, and watched from afar as the branches streamed to neighboring vortices, wavering there, smaller branches forming, then tiny filaments like twigs. The great, red vortex seemed to shrink, turning to orange, then yellow, as Yesui popped free and rushed towards her. I'm out! I'm out! Oh, Ma!
They melded together, and watched in awe as the black things that seemed alive broke into finer and finer pieces. And suddenly, where blackness had been, there was soft, violet light, flickering, and the place of creation was quiet again.
Quiet, yet different, changed by the action of a child. Where there was violet light, there now was structure in the gong-shi-jie, a quiescent smoothing between the vortices of stars, as if they were now influenced by each other. Still melded together, Kati and Yesui drifted closer. I feel a pull, here, like a shallow vortex. There's much energy here, said Kati.
I want to go, Ma.
Of course. But someday, I want to hear about how you make the mass move, and what these "threads" are you talk about. I've never seen them.
I will, Ma.
For the moment, it doesn't matter. You're here, and safe. Please, Yesui, do not be cruel to your little brother anymore. You are not that kind of person. You must be kind to all people. You are the Mei-lai-gong, the Empress of Light, and your powers must be used to help people, not hurt them.
Yes, Ma, I promise.
They drifted to Kati's vortex, and paused there. Remember that we love you, said Kati, a bit apprehensive about their return.
I will, and the fan of emerald green descended into the vortex before Kati.
She opened her eyes, as Weimeng said, "Kati went after her a moment ago. Yesui fled there, right after you scolded her."
"They're back," said Huomeng. He touched Kati on the shoulder, and went straight to Yesui, who held out her arms to him. "Da! I'm sorry, Da!"
Huomeng picked her up, and cuddled her. "I'm sorry, too."
Mengjai waddled past Kati, and held up his little arms to be picked up. Huomeng scooped him up, and squeezed both children close. "I want my babies to be nice to each other," he said.
Yesui tried to put an arm around Mengjai, but he shrugged her off, and clung to his father. Yesui was suddenly very serious. "I will replace your monster, Mengjai. Da will buy you a new one, and I will work to pay for it. I will work, Da!"
Huomeng laughed. "I will hold you to that. To bed with you, now, and no more fighting."
They put them to bed, Mengjai sadly without his monster, and he looked up sullenly at Kati as she kissed him goodnight. Kati felt something, then, a terrible, disquieting feeling about her son, as if he had suddenly detached from her. She said nothing to Huomeng, but the feeling bothered her the rest of the evening, and she only let it go when her husband was again making love to her with great enthuthiasm.
And in the days to come, there was no more cruelty by Yesui against her brother. Mostly, she ignored him, and he ignored her also. Something inside of him had changed.
She was Empress of all the people, but still she was a Tumatsin, and it was the first Festival since she'd come to power. The ritual charge of Mandughai was now a thing of the past, replaced with a ceremony to commemorate the coming together of Tumatsin and Hansui to rid Shanji of invading forces from Tengri-Nayon.
Kati was thrilled to take part in Festival, but her schedule was tight and so they took flyers across the high plateau to the narrow, deep canyon with its waterfall and pool, and the burning coal-vein in the cavern of Tengri's eye. It was the childrens' first ride in a flyer and they had no fear, only excitement. Yesui enjoyed the sights, while Mengjai seemed more interested in what the pilot was doing to make them fly.
Yesui was amazed when Kati showed her the glassy spires of Three Peaks and told her how Yesui'd made them that way by bringing mass through the gong-shi-jie before her birth. "You can't move mass, Ma? I will show you how."
Kati laughed. "It is a special talent, dear. I can bring forth the light, as you can, but I only move mass in real space, not the place of creation. You may show me, but I doubt that I can do it."
For Kati, it was the recall of childhood memories as she pointed out the overgrown site of her home in the mountains, the routes she'd ridden on her beloved Sushua, the long trail to Festival, riding with her Tumatsin father on black Kaidu.
"You had two fathers?" asked Yesui, and Kati thought quickly.
"Mengmoshu is like a father by blood to me, but Temujin was my adopted father, and took care of me when I was a little girl. I will explain more when you're old enough to understand it."
Nothing could be hidden from Yesui. "But Gong-Gong is your real father. He just says I shouldn't tell anyone that, and so I won't. I will keep the secret."
How much did she know?
They landed at the mouth of the canyon: the royal family, several troopers and ten nobles hand-picked by Kati from the People's Congress. Horses awaited them, and Goldani was there on a magnificent chestnut, The Change upon her. They embraced warmly; Kati introduced Goldani to the children, who looked fearfully at the sharp incisors protruding from her mouth. "She is Tumatsin, as I am. You will soon see me as she is," said Kati.
The children protested when Kati remained behind with the women leaders of the ordus. Huomeng mounted them on his horse, Mengjai in front of him, Yesui clasping him from behind, and they went off with the troopers and nobles down into the canyon.
She knew all the women; they were the ones she had met before the war, only now they smiled at her. "Will you wear a Tumatsin robe?" asked Goldani. "We still think of you as one of us."
"I'm honored to," she said, and shrugged out of her own, golden robe of office. The one they gave her was lighter, quilted with patches of red, brown and yellow, and felt cool. "I've brought something," she said, unwrapping a cloth bundle, and holding up a scabbarded sword. "It is the sword I used on that day, given to me by swordmaster Yung. It is not so pristine, now." She partially withdrew the sword to show the scratches and nicks on the curved blade, where once there had been the blood of warriors bioengineered for war.
The women all smiled approvingly. "It is most appropriate," said Goldani. "Now we will celebrate that day when we all came together. And we celebrate our Empress, who has made good her promises to us and brought down the barriers between two peoples. We have a mountain horse for your entrance."
It was a young mare, grey, with black spots, and colorful ribbons woven into black mane and tail. When she mounted her, Kati thought of Sushua, and there was a brief ache in her chest. She withdrew her sword, placed its pommel on her knee and The Change came upon her without thought, the gums in her mouth aching, face muscles tightening, and the emerald light from her eyes reflected from the metal of her blade. The Change had not come upon her since that horrible day when she had killed so many, her heart filled with rage. Now it was there again, yet she felt serene and happy. It was a part of her, but she wondered what her children would think of it.
The women formed a line, and they went down into the canyon, Kati and Goldani in the lead. With the familiar, red sandstone walls closing in on them, the pungent odor of glistening coal seams, the sound of crowd noise and falling water ahead of them, Kati felt like she was coming home.
They came out onto the sandy beach by the pool, and the crowd was huge, suddenly quiet, packed shoulder to shoulder and shuffling back to make a lane for them. Many swords were thrust upwards as she passed by, and then the women were trilling, a sound she'd missed terribly. She looked for her family and didn't see them, but there were many familiar faces in the crowd.
They stopped before the pool. Goldani gave a short welcome, then gestured to Kati. In the emotion of the moment, she gave them a sign, bringing forth the light to form a visible, blue aura around her as she raised her arms.
"I see your swords raised, and I remember the day we came together as one people on Shanji. I'm blessed to be with you. Now, let us celebrate life, and each other thing we have to be thankful for, our loved ones, and our planet. Let us celebrate the new freedom of Shanji's people!"
"To the fields!" shouted Goldani.
The crowd cheered and trilled, drowning out the sound of the waterfall. The water had been allowed to continue falling during the opening of Festival, and there were no instructions regarding prayers before the Eye of Tengri. Festival had indeed changed.
Kati and Goldani led the women up the narrow, hanging canyon away from the beach, and finally she saw Huomeng and the children pausing by the Eye of Tengri. As she came up to them, Yesui turned in the saddle to look at her.
You look fierce, but your eyes are pretty. Why did you make that glow around you?
To give the people a sign of my power, dear. It makes them feel secure. The people need signs, Yesui. Otherwise, they don't have faith in what you do for them. The fire you see was a sign to them for many years.
It's only black rock burning in a cave.
Yesui turned back, unimpressed, as Huomeng urged his horse forward. And as they reached the plateau, there was another question.
Will I look like you, Ma? Will my face change like yours?
I don't know, dear. We'll have to wait and see, when you're older.
She truly didn't know, and the concepts of genetics still mystified her with their complex statistics. Yesui's powers were already far beyond hers, yet Mengjai was ordinary. Boys matured more slowly than girls; Huomeng had not shown his vast intelligence or the talents of a Searcher until the age of seven. Would Mengjai be like his father, or had the mixing of their bloods produced a son who would be forever normal? It had been a constant worry for her since his birth. But in the meantime, she was compelled to focus on Yesui's talents and develop them, and besides, Mengjai seemed closest to his father.
She thought this as they came to the plateau, covered with colorful gert, the playing field bordered by ribboned rope, the odors of cooking meat and ayrog in the air. Suddenly, she was excited, like the child in her memory.
They went straight to a large ger designated for the royal family, and dismounted. "You will sleep here," said Goldani. "The crowd is so great, there's not enough room on the beach, and all the gert here will be filled tonight. But the people are anticipating your heating of the pool for their bathing. They still think of it as a miracle."
"I will be happy to do that," said Kati, and Yesui again looked at her.
Another sign, dear.
The people streamed onto the plateau, and young boys rode straight to the playing field to show off their riding skills. The children went to the roped border to watch, and Kati was pleased when Yesui took Mengjai's hand to keep him close to her. He even allowed it, without complaint, and stayed by his sister the rest of the day. They seemed interested in all that they saw, but were excited by none of it, watching everything with stoic expressions while other children their age shrieked and clapped their hands at the antics on the field. Kati was disappointed by her children's reactions. They did not see the fun in Festival.
They ate lamb, breads, and potatoes mixed with squashes, the meal topped off with honeycakes. Huomeng was careful with the ayrog, but had enough of it to surreptitiously fondle his wife and Empress several times during the day. The nobles ate with them, but Kati forbade any talk of business and ordered them all to relax, enjoy themselves, and witness the Tumatsin culture.
Kati again felt disappointment that evening, when the little Tumatsin children went onto the field to receive their first horses. Goldani had talked about it for Yesui and Mengjai, offering Tumatsin gifts of mountain horses for them, but the children had shown no interest in riding and always stayed away from the animals, complaining that they smelled bad. Kati was diplomatic. Her children had no time for riding. She would buy two animals for each Festival, to be presented in her children's names to young ones whose families had no horses and could not afford to buy them.
Yesui and Mengjai watched the children receive their horses, heard the squeals of joy, the announcements of gifts in their names, all without reaction. Although interested, they saw no joy in the occasion, and Kati felt badly about it.
"They are like stone," she complained to Huomeng. "They feel nothing about what they see here."
Huomeng slid an arm around her shoulders. "You are Tumatsin, and they are not. You were born to this, and they are city children. Their life is in the palace, Kati, and they're happy there. This is an education for them."
"I know," she said, but wished it were otherwise.
It was no better that night, when Kati went down to the pool and made a great show of heating it, raising her arms and bringing forth a blue aura above the water. Within the glow, streamers of purple light from the gong-shi-jie heated the pool to steaming in an instant, and the people were properly awed, cheering and trilling. Yesui was not impressed, but took a short bath with her mother. Mengjai cried when his feet touched the hot water, so Huomeng held him in his lap at the edge of the pool.
That night, Yesui awakened screaming, twice, complaining of a dream. "I was in the vortex again, being sucked in. I couldn't breathe!" she cried. Kati soothed her both times, while Mengjai watched quietly, wide awake, and she had to tuck them both in again. By morning, both she and Huomeng felt like they'd had no sleep at all that night, and there was a whole day and night of Festival left for them.
The second day was the same. The men did their trick riding and shot their arrows, and her children just watched, not mingling with others, no efforts made to make friends with other children. Kati missed her brother, Baber, who again was away at sea with his nets, and Edi, the friend from her first Festival. The crowd was greater than usual, but many were missing, pursuing other things in their lives. She was almost glad when Festival came to a close, and it was time for the ritual charge of Mandughai, but even that was changed. Now it was Kati's charge, commemorating that day when her forces had swept down into the valley like a great wave to drown Mandughai's troops, the day she had ionized hundreds of fang-toothed monsters with light from the gong-shi-jie.
The ceremony was of her making, and something new. She assembled the men on horseback at the end of the playing field, The Change again upon her. "Remember the day!" she shouted, and raised her arms. Many meters overhead, a great ball of blue plasma flashed, sizzling, before their eyes. Heated air rose, forming a cloud that blocked out the light of Tengri-Khan, and a light mist fell only on the playing field. And then she raised her sword, and screamed "SHANJI!", leading them twice in a wild charge across the field.
It seemed that everyone but Kati had had a good time. The people filed by her in the hundreds to wish her well, smiling, mouthing their support for what she was doing for Shanji. But when the last of the ayrog was gone, the people began packing their things, and Festival was over.
Yesui again had nightmares that night, and all of them except Mengjai awoke exhausted. Mengjai seemed rested, and for once was in a happy mood. All of them were anxious to return home. They rode back to the flyers, and squeezed into them with the nobles and the troopers. Kati said her goodbyes to Goldani and the ordu leaders, who were all thrilled she'd joined them at Festival. None of them seemed to sense her dark mood. And when they lifted off, the children seemed to come back to life again, Mengjai sitting in the pilot's lap, pretending to steer the craft, Yesui chattering merrily about all the sights spread out below them. Kati leaned against her husband, and sighed.
I felt so at home there, but to the children it was another world. They are foreign to it.
Huomeng squeezed her gently. I remember a frightened, little girl who was a foreigner in a strange place, and now she's Empress over all of it. Your world grew, and so will theirs. Home is where we are together, Kati, even in the heart.
Kati snuggled against him. You, and your words, but I love you anyway.
Yesui looked back at them, and smiled.
Mengjai sat on his bed and cuddled Shizou while Yesui did all the work in cleaning up their room. It was her penance for taking his monster to the gong-shi-jie and being silly enough to think she could bring it back intact, even after her bad experiences with the other things she'd experimented with. Now he had a new monster and she had to do all the cleaning for six months, and Mengjai felt pleased with his efforts to make a mess for her.
Yesui did not react the way Mengjai wished. She seemed genuinely pleased to do the work, and was truly contrite about what she'd done to his first cuddly-toy. "I'm so sorry I hurt you," she'd said, "but I learned an important lesson. When I move mass, it breaks up into the tiniest pieces, and I must consciously reassemble it again. So far, I can't do it. I must begin with simple things."
Always bragging about her special abilities, but now she had to do real, physical work, and Mengjai was happy about it.
"There—all clean," she announced, then came over and sat on the edge of his bed, looking seriously at him.
"Have you forgiven me yet? You hardly say a word to me."
"I talk to Shizou," he said, squeezing the toy to him.
"He's a stuffed animal, not a person. What did you do today?"
"Gong-Gong took me to the pond for wading. I met a lady there."
"Show me," she said.
"She was a very nice lady. She said I was beautiful, and hugged me. Gong-Gong said it was all right to let her do it. He said Ma knows her very well."
"Why don't you show me? Ma and Da let me see all the time, but you never let me in."
Mengjai hugged Shizou harder. "Her name is Yang Xifeng. She was very sad, and cried when she hugged me. Her hands were soft."
"I know of her," said Yesui. "Ma had to do something to her mind to make her stop sleeping all the time. She was the Emperor's second wife, and her son died in the war. She has lost all her family, Mengjai. That's why she's so sad."
"She liked me," he said. "She wants to see me again."
"That's nice," said Yesui. "Are you ready to sleep, now?"
"Yes."
"Then I will be the mother." As he nestled into bed with Shizou, she pulled the covers up and tucked them under his chin. All the while, she was probing him, but as usual her efforts were feeble. "Goodnight, brother," she said.
"Goodnight." Mengjai closed his eyes as his sister turned out the lights to undress in darkness and get into her bed. He felt the coolness of sheets on her skin, so she'd gone to bed in her underclothes again. A vision of Yang Xifeng was in her mind, and himself wading in the pool, then nothingness as she quickly fell asleep. He lay there for awhile, deciding whether or not to give her another dream about the horrible vortex she'd hidden in, only to be foolishly trapped by it. He decided not to, for she was being nice to him, now. But he lay awake for a long time, thinking about the beautiful, swirling clouds in the gong-shi-jie, the vortices that were stars on the other side, the exhilaration of floating in emptiness above them. He wished he could really go there, and not just in the mind of his sister. He wished he could stretch the threads connecting the bright, purple points of their intersections, and move mass like his sister did; then maybe Ma would pay more attention to him. She would think he was special, like Yesui.
Mengjai decided he would continue his secret watching, and learn what he could, but if it turned out he was only a normal boy, there was another thing he could do to satisfy his yearnings to be where Yesui could go.
He would fly into space with his father.