Sima Qian
太史令
- Joined
- Jan 5, 2006
- Messages
- 732
Chapter 19: An Eye Toward the Heavens
A light wind is rippling at the grassy shore
Through the night, to my motionless tall mast,
The stars lean down from open space,
And the moon comes running up the river.
If only my art might bring me fame
And free my sick old age from office!
Flitting, flitting, what am I like
But a sandpiper in the wide, wide world!
"Nocturnal Reflections," Du Fu (A.D. 712-770)
It was now 1470 AD, exactly one hundred years after Toyotomi Hideyoshi's visit, and at last, it was time to break down the barriers between Japan and India lest the two of them meet on their own accord. Mao realized that this was perhaps the last chance he had to extract some value out of selling contact, and for now, it seemed like the Japanese had more to offer.
Minister Liu traveled to Kyoto again, with a far more ambitious goal than before. Mao wanted him to bring back all of the four Japanese luxuries, lest they export them to India instead. He knew that Gandhi had many marketplaces in his cities waiting to receive more goods, and if there was any way to make sure China would stay ahead, this was it.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi greeted Liu on Tokugawa's behalf, and together they worked out an agreement. Tokugawa had demanded a steep price, and Hideyoshi was rather difficult to negotiate with, but eventually they closed the deal. The Japanese walked away with a supply of dyes, gems, horses, and learned of China's educational secrets, while finally gaining the contact with the Indians that they had fought two wars over already. (Note: Contact with the Indians is not shown in the image, but it was part of the trade.)
But it was still to early to let them go. Minister Deng observed that there was still a technology gap between India and Japan. The Indians knew astronomy. The Japanese knew invention. Rather than have them trade among themselves, Deng suggested that China play the middleman one last time.
Hideyoshi was surprised to see that Liu still had something else to offer, and instantly the Japanese diplomat's face lit up with happiness. He thought he was getting a great bargain, learning the science of astronomy from the Chinese at the cheap price of 300 gold and an updated copy of the Japanese atlas.
Tokugawa was overjoyed to hear that Hideyoshi had acquired this new knowledge from the Chinese, and immediately began construction of better ships that could sail the seas without fear of sinking. They were still not yet ready for the open oceans, but the Shogun expected that would be soon to come as well. Still, Tokugawa was even more excited that he, too, could begin working on Copernicus's Observatory.
The news was no surprise at all to Mao; he had expected that Tokugawa would give this project a try. "Just let him be," he said. "He will be amazed at how quickly we will be done with that."
The governor of Shanghai reported that work on the Observatory was steadily progressing; in fact, he estimated that it would be complete by 1490 AD, just ten years after the Sistine Chapel in Beijing. While there was nothing negative in that report, it greatly disturbed foreign minister Zhou Enlai, who had some serious concerns about the project. The Observatory cost significantly fewer resources than the Sistine Chapel, and so, if the Sistine Chapel is finished first... what if...
Suddenly it dawned upon him that there could be terrible results if the Sistine Chapel was built first. He asked the embassy in Delhi for an investigation on Gandhi's progress, and it confirmed his worst fears.
The report wasn't particularly easy to understand, but from reading it Zhou estimated that the Indians had already devoted at least 330 units of production to the Sistine Chapel. For them, Copernicus's Observatory would cost only 360 units. By the time Beijing finished the Chapel, Delhi would have enough resources to complete the Observatory immediately.
Hearing of this, Mao called for an emergency meeting with Zhou and the governor of Beijing. After a long, intense discussion, they figured out there was only one way to prevent the Indians from getting a wonder: Beijing would have to slow down its production.
"Move some workers out of the mines and back into the fields," Mao told the governor. "You can even give some of them a break and let them go on vacation, if that's what you need to do. I just need the Sistine Chapel delayed by ten years, so that we can finish it at exactly the same time as Copernicus' Observatory in Shanghai."
The governor, somewhat puzzled by this, did not question Mao's logic and did as commanded.
There was one last order of business with Gandhi that was not yet complete. The Indians still lacked invention, so it was sold to them for a bargain price, lest Tokugawa try to extract some benefits from India in this manner.
It had been a busy year. With a sigh of relief, Mao sat back and watched his plans unfold.
And indeed everything went as expected.
First came the invitation, sent by the governor of Beijing in the spring of 1490 AD, for Mao to come attend the opening ceremony of the Sistine Chapel. A great festival was held, and celebrations broke out in every Chinese city, as citizens gathered in crowds at their local cathedrals to enjoy the occasion.
And then, one summer night of the same year, Chairman Mao took the first look at the heavens through the great telescope installed in the newly built Copernicus's Observatory in Shanghai. There were planets and stars, galaxies and nebulae, the most beautiful image of the night sky the Chinese leader had ever seen. It was as if he felt the heavens giving the Chinese people their most potent blessings.
News of these triumphs reached the embassies in Delhi and Kyoto, who reported that the frustrated leaders of India and Japan could only hastily gather the remainder of their resources to build universities.
But despite these successes, there would still be more struggles to face in the future. Japan and India were now scientific equals, and ready to collaborate in their challenges to Chinese supremacy.
A light wind is rippling at the grassy shore
Through the night, to my motionless tall mast,
The stars lean down from open space,
And the moon comes running up the river.
If only my art might bring me fame
And free my sick old age from office!
Flitting, flitting, what am I like
But a sandpiper in the wide, wide world!
"Nocturnal Reflections," Du Fu (A.D. 712-770)
It was now 1470 AD, exactly one hundred years after Toyotomi Hideyoshi's visit, and at last, it was time to break down the barriers between Japan and India lest the two of them meet on their own accord. Mao realized that this was perhaps the last chance he had to extract some value out of selling contact, and for now, it seemed like the Japanese had more to offer.
Minister Liu traveled to Kyoto again, with a far more ambitious goal than before. Mao wanted him to bring back all of the four Japanese luxuries, lest they export them to India instead. He knew that Gandhi had many marketplaces in his cities waiting to receive more goods, and if there was any way to make sure China would stay ahead, this was it.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi greeted Liu on Tokugawa's behalf, and together they worked out an agreement. Tokugawa had demanded a steep price, and Hideyoshi was rather difficult to negotiate with, but eventually they closed the deal. The Japanese walked away with a supply of dyes, gems, horses, and learned of China's educational secrets, while finally gaining the contact with the Indians that they had fought two wars over already. (Note: Contact with the Indians is not shown in the image, but it was part of the trade.)
But it was still to early to let them go. Minister Deng observed that there was still a technology gap between India and Japan. The Indians knew astronomy. The Japanese knew invention. Rather than have them trade among themselves, Deng suggested that China play the middleman one last time.
Hideyoshi was surprised to see that Liu still had something else to offer, and instantly the Japanese diplomat's face lit up with happiness. He thought he was getting a great bargain, learning the science of astronomy from the Chinese at the cheap price of 300 gold and an updated copy of the Japanese atlas.
Tokugawa was overjoyed to hear that Hideyoshi had acquired this new knowledge from the Chinese, and immediately began construction of better ships that could sail the seas without fear of sinking. They were still not yet ready for the open oceans, but the Shogun expected that would be soon to come as well. Still, Tokugawa was even more excited that he, too, could begin working on Copernicus's Observatory.
The news was no surprise at all to Mao; he had expected that Tokugawa would give this project a try. "Just let him be," he said. "He will be amazed at how quickly we will be done with that."
The governor of Shanghai reported that work on the Observatory was steadily progressing; in fact, he estimated that it would be complete by 1490 AD, just ten years after the Sistine Chapel in Beijing. While there was nothing negative in that report, it greatly disturbed foreign minister Zhou Enlai, who had some serious concerns about the project. The Observatory cost significantly fewer resources than the Sistine Chapel, and so, if the Sistine Chapel is finished first... what if...
Suddenly it dawned upon him that there could be terrible results if the Sistine Chapel was built first. He asked the embassy in Delhi for an investigation on Gandhi's progress, and it confirmed his worst fears.
Spoiler :
The report wasn't particularly easy to understand, but from reading it Zhou estimated that the Indians had already devoted at least 330 units of production to the Sistine Chapel. For them, Copernicus's Observatory would cost only 360 units. By the time Beijing finished the Chapel, Delhi would have enough resources to complete the Observatory immediately.
Hearing of this, Mao called for an emergency meeting with Zhou and the governor of Beijing. After a long, intense discussion, they figured out there was only one way to prevent the Indians from getting a wonder: Beijing would have to slow down its production.
"Move some workers out of the mines and back into the fields," Mao told the governor. "You can even give some of them a break and let them go on vacation, if that's what you need to do. I just need the Sistine Chapel delayed by ten years, so that we can finish it at exactly the same time as Copernicus' Observatory in Shanghai."
The governor, somewhat puzzled by this, did not question Mao's logic and did as commanded.
There was one last order of business with Gandhi that was not yet complete. The Indians still lacked invention, so it was sold to them for a bargain price, lest Tokugawa try to extract some benefits from India in this manner.
It had been a busy year. With a sigh of relief, Mao sat back and watched his plans unfold.
And indeed everything went as expected.
First came the invitation, sent by the governor of Beijing in the spring of 1490 AD, for Mao to come attend the opening ceremony of the Sistine Chapel. A great festival was held, and celebrations broke out in every Chinese city, as citizens gathered in crowds at their local cathedrals to enjoy the occasion.
And then, one summer night of the same year, Chairman Mao took the first look at the heavens through the great telescope installed in the newly built Copernicus's Observatory in Shanghai. There were planets and stars, galaxies and nebulae, the most beautiful image of the night sky the Chinese leader had ever seen. It was as if he felt the heavens giving the Chinese people their most potent blessings.
News of these triumphs reached the embassies in Delhi and Kyoto, who reported that the frustrated leaders of India and Japan could only hastily gather the remainder of their resources to build universities.
Spoiler :
Spoiler :
But despite these successes, there would still be more struggles to face in the future. Japan and India were now scientific equals, and ready to collaborate in their challenges to Chinese supremacy.
... to be continued