Mirror

It was an uncannily hot day, the sunshine more blistering than the people here had ever felt. Perhaps it could only be attributed to the adverse effect of the Mirror project. The president, a perfectly rotund figure, first rose to start the ball rolling. "We’re here today to discuss the impact of the Space Mirror on our residents’ daily life. There is a proposal to stop the system working."

"Wait a minute," interrupted the newly arrived technician, "Wasn’t it sent into the orbit just four years ago? The plan should be still in the experimental stage. We haven’t seen its full potential yet."

"But we are getting all kinds of negative feedback." The president grew impatient, sweat lining his brow. He passed his microphone to the young physiologist, who instantly began her sentimental allegation. "The reported cases of mental disorder have been quadrupling in the past three years. Though the advance in human physiology has made sleep inessential—since the two hemispheres of the brain can work and rest alternatively—the continuous daylight brought by the Mirror leaves no room for any relaxation at all."

"I back you!" the astronomer shouted. "Since the Mirror’s in constant opposition to the sun, it reflects sufficient light on the previous night hemisphere to make the whole planet in daytime simultaneously. This is no less than a catastrophe to us. How are we supposed to watch the stars under sunlight?" The middle-aged gentleman had a glance out of the glass wall. Outside the building it was brighter than ever, though it should have been midnight by the local time.

At this time the technician walked over to switch on the projector. "As you can see, we are planning to build a Space Observatory outside the orbit of Mirror. It will be 100 more efficient than all the available facilities on the whole Earth combined." He took a glance at the poorly pacified astronomer and kept on talking. "I understand there is some concern about the sustainability of this project, but insofar as we know, the working of the Mirror, as inspected by my research institute, would be highly reliable.

"Continuous daylight is boosting the world’s productivity as well. Without it, factories would not be able to run 24 hours a day, nor could people be energetic enough to increase the global production by 64 times in four years. Doesn’t this profit compensate for the slight increase in physiological problems? The statistics from the agriculture department will further illustrate this to you." He grew ever more confident, his wrinkled lips curled upwards in a grimace.

Projected on the screen were an array of eerie pictures captioned with lines of astonishing figures. Yield of barley per acre per annum: 752 tons; average size of commercial tulip: 56.6 cm; milk produced by an average cow per day: 1034 litres. "How else could a limited planet support a still skyrocketing population of 74 billion? We are certain to perish should the solar energy not be fully utilised."

Everybody fell silent—until a piercing alarm broke out in the whole building. All the people swarmed to the window and looked out. Everywhere around this skyscraper was a scene of raging flame and billowing smoke. Up in the air, the Mirror, distorted under the accumulation of intense heat, was focusing the sunlight on the Planetary Council Building, the central position of Earth surface, so that the temperature surged 74 degrees and plastic began to melt. The horrified president almost fainted to the ground had the physiologist not helped him to his feet. When these councillors finally realised how disastrous a calamity had been triggered, the technician was nowhere to be found.