Year 205, Crisis Era(6)

The next day, still keeping Earth time, Starship Earth convened its first plenary Citizens' Assembly, held in a venue formed from the combination of five holographic subvenues. The citizens in attendance numbered around three thousand, and the remainder who were unable to leave their posts networked in.

First off, the assembly identified an urgent matter: the destination of Starship Earth's voyage. Maintaining the current heading unchanged was passed by unanimous vote. This target was the one Zhang Beihai had set for Natural Selection, a heading in the direction of Cygnus—or, more precisely, the star NH558J2, one of the planetary systems closest to the Solar System. It had two planets, both of which were gaseous like Jupiter and not suitable for human life, but could provide supplemental nuclear fuel. It now appeared that the choice of destination had been made after considerable thought, because along a different heading, at a distance just 1.5 light-years farther than their present destination, there was another planetary system which, according to observations, contained a planet whose natural environment was similar to Earth's. But that system had just one planet, and if it turned out to be an inhospitable world—the conditions for a hospitable world were more exacting than the rough observations from light-years away could reveal—then Starship Earth would miss the chance to refuel. After reaching NH558J2 and refueling, they could fly at even higher speeds toward their next target.

NH558J2 was eighteen light-years away from the Solar System. At their present speed, taking into account various uncertainties in the voyage, Starship Earth would reach it in two thousand years.

Two millennia. The grim number presented another clear picture of the present and the future. Even taking hibernation into account, most of the citizens of Starship Earth would never live to see their destination. Their lives would last just a small part of the twenty-century-long voyage, and even for their descendants who would reach it, NH558J2 was just a way station. No one knew what their next destination would be, much less when Starship Earth would finally reach its true, hospitable home.

In fact, Zhang Beihai had been exceptionally rational in his thinking. He clearly knew that Earth's suitability for human life was no coincidence, much less an effect of the anthropic principle, but rather was an outcome of the long-term interaction between the biosphere and the natural environment, an outcome that would not likely be repeated on another planet around some far-flung star. His choice of NH558J2 implied another possibility: Perhaps a hospitable world would never be found, and the new human civilization would forever voyage on a starship.

But he did not make this idea explicit. It might take the next generation born on Starship Earth to truly be able to accept a starship civilization. The present generation would have to live their lives sustained by the thought of a home on an Earth-like planet.

The assembly also determined Starship Earth's political status. It decided that the five ships would remain part of the human world forever, but under the present circumstances, it was impossible for Starship Earth to be politically subordinate to Earth or the three fleets, so it would become a totally independent country.

When this resolution was transmitted back to Solar System, the UN and the SFJC were silent for quite some time before replying. Without taking a position, they merely sent their tacit blessing.

And thus the human world was divided into three internationals: the ancient Earth International, the Fleet International of the new era, and the Starship International that was voyaging into the depths of the cosmos. The last group had just over five thousand people, but it carried with it all the hope of human civilization.

* * *

At the second meeting of the Citizens' Assembly, they began discussing the issue of Starship Earth's leadership structure.

When the meeting began, Zhang Beihai said, "I think it's too early for this agenda item. We've got to determine the shape of society on Starship Earth before we can decide what sort of governing bodies we need."

"You mean, we need to draft a constitution first," Dongfang Yanxu said.

"At least the basic principles for a constitution."

So the meeting continued along those lines. The inclination of the majority was that because Starship Earth was a highly fragile ecosystem traveling through the harsh environment of space, a disciplined society had to be established to guarantee a unified will to survive under these conditions. Someone proposed maintaining the present military system, and the idea received majority support.

"You mean a totalitarian society," Zhang Beihai said.

"Sir, there ought to be a nicer name for it. We're military, after all," the captain of Blue Space said.

"I don't think it'll work." Zhang Beihai shook his head decisively. "Staying alive is not enough to guarantee survival. Development is the best way to ensure survival. During our voyage, we'll have to develop our own science and technology to expand the size of our fleet. The historical facts of the Middle Ages and the Great Ravine prove that a totalitarian system is the greatest barrier to human progress. Starship Earth requires vibrant new ideas and innovation, and this can only be accomplished through the establishment of a society that fully respects freedom and individuality."

"Are you talking about establishing a society like the modern Earth International, sir? Starship Earth has certain intrinsic conditions," a low-ranking officer said.

"That's right." Dongfang Yanxu nodded at the speaker. "Starship Earth may have few people, but it possesses a highly refined information system through which any problem can easily be put to discussion and vote by all citizens. We can establish the first truly democratic society in human history."

"That won't work either." Zhang Beihai shook his head again. "Like those citizens said before, Starship Earth is traveling through the harsh environment of space, where catastrophes that threaten the entire world might occur at any time. Earth's history during the Trisolar Crisis has demonstrated that, in the face of such disasters, particularly when our world needs to make sacrifices in order to preserve the whole, the humanitarian society you have in mind is especially fragile."

All of those in attendance at the meeting glanced at each other, their eyes holding the same question: So what should we do?

Smiling, Zhang Beihai said, "I'm thinking too simply. There's never been an answer to this question throughout human history, so how can we solve it in one meeting? It will, I think, require a long process of practice and exploration before we can find the social model most suitable for Starship Earth. After the meeting, discussions should be opened up on the issue.… Please forgive me for disrupting the meeting's agenda. We should continue with the original topic."

Dongfang Yanxu had never seen Zhang Beihai smile like that. He rarely smiled, and when he occasionally did, it was confident and forgiving. But this smile had shown an apologetic shyness that she had never seen before. Even though interrupting the meeting wasn't a big deal, he was a man with an especially discreet mind, and this was the first time he had put forth an opinion only to retract it. She noticed his distraction. He hadn't taken notes during this meeting, unlike the careful recording he had done at the previous one. He was the only one on board who still used an ancient pen and paper, and it had become an emblem for him.

So what was occupying his thoughts now?

The meeting turned toward the matter of governing bodies. The citizens tended to feel that conditions were not yet right for holding elections, so the ships' present chains of command should not be changed. Captains would lead their respective ships, and a Starship Earth Authority Committee formed from the five of them would discuss and decide upon major affairs. Zhang Beihai was unanimously elected as chair of the committee, to serve as supreme commander of Starship Earth. The resolution was put to the entire assembly, and passed with 100 percent of the votes.

But he refused the appointment.

"Sir, it's your responsibility," the captain of Deep Space said.

"On Starship Earth, you're the only one with the prestige to command all the ships," Dongfang Yanxu said.

"I feel I've fulfilled my responsibility. I'm tired, and I've reached retirement age," Zhang Beihai said softly.

When the meeting adjourned, Zhang Beihai called for Dongfang Yanxu to stay behind. Once everyone had left, he said, "Dongfang, I want to recover my position as acting captain of Natural Selection."

"Acting captain?" She eyed him in surprise.

"Yes. Give me operational permissions over the ship again."

"Sir, I can hand over the captain's chair of Natural Selection to you. I mean it. And the Authority Committee and the body of citizens certainly won't oppose it."

He shook his head with a smile. "No, you'll still be the captain, with a captain's full power to command. Please trust me. I won't interfere with your work at all."

"Then why do you want an acting captain's privileges? Is there a need for them in your present position?"

"I just like the ship. It's been a dream of ours for two centuries. Do you know what I've done for this ship to be here for us today?"

When he looked at her, the stony hardness that had been in his eyes was gone, revealing a tired emptiness and a deep sorrow that made him look like a different person. He was no longer the calm, grim survivor who thought deeply and acted decisively, but rather a man bent with the weight of time. Looking at him, she felt a concern and compassion she had never felt before.

"Sir, don't think about those things. Historians have a fair evaluation of your actions in the twenty-first century: Choosing research in radiation propulsion was a key step in the right direction for humanity's space technology. Perhaps at the time, it … it was the only choice, just like escape was the only choice for Natural Selection. Besides, according to modern law, the statute of limitations ran out long ago."

"But I can't get rid of the cross I bear. You can't understand.… I have feelings for this ship, more feelings than you. I feel like it's a part of me. I can't leave it. Also, I've got to have something to do in the future. Having things to do puts my mind more at ease."

Then he turned and left, a tired figure floating away, turning into a small black dot within the huge white spherical space. Dongfang Yanxu watched until he disappeared into the whiteness, and a loneliness she had never felt before surged in from all sides and overcame her.

* * *

In future Citizens' Assembly meetings, the people of Starship Earth immersed themselves in the passion of creating a new world. They held lively debates on the constitution and social structure of the world, drafted various laws, and planned the first election.… There was a thorough exchange of views between officers and soldiers of different ranks, and among the different ships. People acknowledged their prospects and looked forward to Starship Earth forming a core that would snowball into a future civilization, continually increasing in size as the fleet reached star system after star system. An increasing number of people began calling Starship Earth a "second Eden," a second point of origin for human civilization.

But this state of wonder did not last very long, because Starship Earth truly was a Garden of Eden.

As Natural Selection's chief psychologist, Lieutenant Colonel Lan Xi headed the Second Civilian Service Department, an agency of military officers trained in psychology that was responsible for psychological health on the ship during long space voyages and in battle. When Spaceship Earth began its journey of no return, Lan Xi and his subordinates went on alert, like warriors facing an attack from a powerful enemy. The plans they had rehearsed on many previous occasions had prepared them for a wide range of possible psychological crises.

They agreed that the biggest enemy was none other than "Problem N": nostalgia, or homesickness. This was, after all, the first time that humankind had embarked on an endless voyage, so Problem N had the potential to cause a mass psychological disaster. Lan Xi commanded CSD2 to take every necessary precaution, including establishing dedicated channels for communicating with Earth and the three fleets. This enabled everyone on board to maintain constant contact with their family and friends on Earth and in the fleet, and allowed them to watch most of the news and other programming from the two Internationals. Although Starship Earth was seventy AU away from the sun, meaning that signals were delayed nine hours, the quality of communication with Earth and the fleets was excellent.

In addition to conducting active psychological counseling and adjustments when signs of Problem N cropped up, CSD2 psychological officers also prepared an extreme means of responding to a large-scale mass psychological disaster: quarantining an out-of-control crowd in hibernation.

Subsequent events demonstrated that these concerns were superfluous. While Problem N was widespread on Starship Earth, it was far from out of control, and did not even reach the level of previous, ordinary long-range voyages. Lan Xi was confused by this at first, but he soon found a reason: After the destruction of humanity's main fleet, Earth had lost all hope. Even though the ultimate doomsday was still two centuries away (using the most optimistic estimate), the news from Earth informed them that the world, plunged into chaos by the heavy blow of the great defeat, was full of the stench of death. For Starship Earth, there was nothing on the Earth or in the Solar System to provide them with sustenance. Nostalgia for a home like that was limited.

However, an enemy nevertheless appeared, one that was more ominous than Problem N. By the time that Lan Xi and CSD2 realized it, their position had already been overcome.

Lan Xi knew from his experience that on long space voyages Problem N tended to crop up in soldiers and low-ranking officers first, because their jobs and responsibilities commanded less of their attention compared to high-ranking officers, and their mental conditioning was comparatively poor. So CSD2 turned its attention to the lower levels from the start, but the shadow first fell upon the upper levels.

Around that time, Lan Xi noticed something peculiar. The first election for Starship Earth's governing bodies was about to take place, an election that would be open to the entire population, meaning that most of the senior commanders were facing a transition from being military officers to being government officials. Their positions would be reshuffled, and many of them would be replaced by lower-ranking competitors. Lan Xi was surprised to learn that no one in Natural Selection's senior command was overly concerned about the election that would determine the rest of their lives. He saw no senior officers engaging in even the least bit of campaigning, and when he mentioned the election, none of them was at all interested. He couldn't help but recall Zhang Beihai's absentmindedness during the second Citizens' Assembly meeting.

Then he began to see symptoms of psychological imbalance among officers above the rank of lieutenant colonel. Most of them started to become increasingly introverted, spending long periods alone with their thoughts and sharply reducing their social interactions. They spoke less and less at meetings, sometimes choosing to become completely silent. Lan Xi noticed that the light had disappeared from their eyes, and their expressions had turned gloomy. They couldn't look anyone in the eye for fear that others would notice the fog in theirs. When they occasionally met someone's gaze, they would break away immediately like they had been shocked.… The higher the rank, the more serious the symptoms. And there were signs that it was spreading through the lower ranks, too.

There was no way for psychological counseling to proceed. Everyone stubbornly refused to talk to the psychological officers, so CSD2 was compelled to exercise its special power to conduct mandatory counseling. Still, most of their subjects remained silent.

Lan Xi decided that he needed to talk to the supreme commander, so he went to Dongfang Yanxu. Although Zhang Beihai had once held supreme prestige and status on Natural Selection and the whole of Starship Earth, he had rejected it all, withdrawing from the race and insisting he was an ordinary person. The only duties he had retained were those of acting captain: transmitting the captain's orders to the ship's control system. The remainder of his time he spent wandering Natural Selection, learning about the specifics of the ship from officers and soldiers at all ranks and showing a constant affection for the space ark. Apart from this, he remained calm and indifferent, practically unaffected by the ship's mass psychological shadow. He was no doubt trying to remain aloof, but Lan Xi knew of another important reason for his immunity: The ancients were not as sensitive as moderns, and in the present circumstances, numbness served an excellent self-protective function.

"Captain, you ought to give us some indication of what's happening," he said.

"Lieutenant Colonel, you ought to be the one giving us an indication."

"Do you mean that you don't know anything about your present state?"

An infinite sadness welled up in her dull eyes. "I only know that we're the first humans who have gone into space."

"What do you mean?"

"This is the first time humanity has really gone to space."

"Oh. I see what you mean. Before, no matter how far humans traveled into space, they were still just a kite sent aloft by Earth. They were connected to Earth by a spiritual line. Now that line has been severed."

"That's right. The line is severed. The essential change is not that the line has been let go, but that the hand has disappeared. The Earth is heading toward doomsday. In fact, she's already dead in our minds. Our five spacecraft are not connected to any world. There is nothing around us apart from the abyss of space."

"Indeed. Humanity has never faced a psychological environment like this before."

"Yes. In this environment, the human spirit will be fundamentally changed. People will become—" She suddenly broke off, and the sadness in her eyes vanished, leaving only gloom, like a cloud-covered sky after the rain has stopped.

"You mean that in this environment, people will become new people?"

"New people? No, Lieutenant Colonel. People will become … non-people."

At that last word, Lan Xi shuddered. He looked up at Dongfang Yanxu, and she met his gaze. In the blankness of her eyes, all he saw were tightly closed windows to her soul.

"What I mean is that we won't be people in the old sense.… Lieutenant Colonel, that's all I can say. Just do your best. And…" The words that followed seemed like she was talking in her sleep. "It'll be your turn soon."

The situation continued to deteriorate. The day after Lan Xi's talk with Dongfang Yanxu, there was a vicious injury on Natural Selection. A lieutenant colonel with the ship's navigational system fired upon another officer bunking with him. According to the victim's recollection, the officer had awakened suddenly in the middle of the night and, noticing that the victim was also awake, had accused him of eavesdropping on him talking in his sleep. In the struggle, his emotions had gotten away from him and he had fired the gun.

Lan Xi went at once to see the detained lieutenant colonel. "What were you afraid of him hearing you say in your sleep?" he asked.

"You mean he really heard it?" the attacker asked in terror.

Lan Xi shook his head. "He said that you didn't say anything."

"So what if I did say something? You can't take sleep talk for the truth! My mind doesn't really think that. Surely I'm not going to go to hell for something I said in my sleep!"

In the end, Lan Xi was unable to draw out what the attacker imagined he said in his sleep, so he asked whether he minded going under hypnotherapy. Unexpectedly, the attacker once again blew up at this suggestion, lunging at Lan Xi and strangling him until the military police finally came in and pried him off. Leaving the brig, one MP who had overheard the conversation said to Lan Xi, "Lieutenant Colonel, don't mention hypnotherapy again unless CSD2 wants to become the most hated place on the ship. You wouldn't last very long."

So Lan Xi had to contact Colonel Scott, a psychologist aboard Enterprise. Scott also served as the ship's chaplain, a position most ships in the Asian Fleet did not have. Enterprise and the other three ships in the pursuing force were still two hundred thousand kilometers away.

"Why is it so dark over there?" Lan Xi asked as he looked at the video sent over from Enterprise. The curved walls of the cabin Scott was in had been adjusted to glow a faint yellow, and they displayed an image of the stars outside, making it look as if he was inside a fogged-over cosmos. His face was shrouded in shadow, but even so, Lan Xi could still sense Scott's eyes slipping quickly away from his gaze.

"The Garden of Eden is growing dark. Blackness will swallow everything," Scott said in a weary voice.

Lan Xi had consulted him because, as chaplain of Enterprise, he would likely have had people confide the truth in him during confession, and he might be able to pass on some advice. But at these words, and noticing how the colonel's eyes loomed in the shadows, Lan Xi knew that he would come up with nothing. So he suppressed the question he was about to ask and turned to another, one that surprised even him:

"Will what happened in the first Garden of Eden be repeated in the second?"

"I don't know. At any rate, the vipers have come out. The snakes of the second Garden of Eden are even now climbing up people's souls."

"You mean, you've eaten the fruit of knowledge?"

Scott slowly nodded. Then he bowed his head, but did not raise it again, as if he was trying to hide the eyes that would betray him. "You could say that."

"Who will be expelled from the Garden of Eden?" Lan Xi's voice quavered, and a cold sweat was on his palms.

"Many people. But unlike the first time, this time some people might remain."

"Who? Who will remain?"

Scott gave a long sigh. "Lieutenant Colonel Lan, I've said enough. Why don't you seek the fruit of knowledge for yourself? Everyone's got to take that step, after all. Isn't that right?"

"Where should I seek it?"

"Set down your work, and think about it. Feel more, and you'll find it."

After speaking with Scott, Lan Xi halted his busy work amid chaotic feelings, and stopped to think, as the colonel had advised. Faster than he had imagined, Eden's cold, slippery vipers crawled into his consciousness. He found the fruit of knowledge and ate it, and the last rays of sunshine in his soul disappeared forever as everything plunged into darkness.

On Starship Earth, an invisible, taut string was being pulled close to snapping.

Two days later, the captain of Ultimate Law committed suicide. He had been standing on the aft platform at the time, a platform enclosed in a transparent dome that made it seem exposed to space. The stern of the ship faced the Solar System, where the sun was by now no more than a yellow star just a bit brighter than the rest. The peripheral spiral arm of the Milky Way lay in this direction, its stars sparse. The depth and expanse of deep space exhibited an arrogance that left no support for the mind or the eyes.

"Dark. It's so fucking dark," the captain murmured, and then shot himself.

* * *

When Dongfang Yanxu learned that the captain of Ultimate Law had committed suicide, she had the premonition that time was up, so she convened an emergency meeting with the two vice-captains in the large spherical fighter hangar.

In the corridor on the way to the hangar, she heard someone behind her call her name. It was Zhang Beihai. In her gloomy state of mind, she had practically forgotten about him for the past couple of days. He looked her up and down, his eyes full of a fatherly concern that gave her an undreamed-of sense of comfort, for it was hard to find a pair of eyes without a shadow on Starship Earth these days.

"Dongfang, I don't think you've been right lately. I don't know the reason, but you seem to be hiding something. What's going on?"

She didn't answer his question, but instead asked, "Sir, how have you been lately?"

"Well. Very well. I've been touring all over the place and studying. I'm familiarizing myself with Natural Selection's weapons system. Of course, I'm only scratching the surface, but it's fascinating. Imagine how Columbus would feel visiting an aircraft carrier. I'm the same way."

Seeing how calm and relaxed he was now, Dongfang Yanxu felt a little jealous. Yes, he had completed his great endeavor and had the right to enjoy tranquility. The history-making great man had turned back into an ignorant hibernator. All he needed now was protection. With that in mind, she said, "Sir, don't ask anyone else about the question you just asked. Don't ask about any of this."

"Why? Why shouldn't I ask?"

"It's dangerous to ask. Besides, you really don't need to know. Believe me."

He nodded. "Very well. I won't ask. Thank you for treating me like an ordinary person. That's all I've been hoping for."

She said a hurried good-bye, but as she went her own way, she heard the voice of the founder of Starship Earth behind her: "Dongfang, no matter what happens, let things go as they will. Everything will be okay."

She saw the two vice-captains in the center of the spherical hall. She had chosen to meet them here because the size of the hall made it feel like they were in the wilderness. The three of them floated at the center of a world of pure white, as if the whole universe was empty except for them. It lent a sense of security to their conversation.

Each of them looked in a different direction.

"We have to make things clear," she said.

"Yes. Every second we delay is dangerous," Vice-Captain Levine said. Then he and Akira Inoue turned around to face Dongfang Yanxu. His meaning was clear: You are the captain, you speak first.

But she didn't have the courage.

Whatever happened now, at the second dawn of human civilization, might be the foundation of a new Homeric epic or a Bible. Judas became who he was because he was the first to kiss Jesus, and that made him fundamentally different from the second one to kiss him. It was the same now. The first to speak would mark a milestone in the history of the second civilization. Perhaps he or she would become Judas, or perhaps Jesus, but whatever the possibility, Dongfang Yanxu did not have that courage.

But she had to undertake her own mission, so she made a smart choice. She did not avoid the gaze of her vice-captains. Language was not necessary now. All communication could be accomplished through the eyes. As they stared at each other, their interlocking gazes were like information conduits linking their three souls together and communicating everything at high speed.

Fuel.

Fuel.

Fuel.

The route is still unclear, but at least two clouds of interstellar dust have been found.

Drag.

Of course. After passing through them, the spaceships will drop to 0.03 percent of the speed of light due to drag from the dust.

We're still more than ten light-years away from NH558J2. We'll need sixty thousand years to get there.

Then we'll never arrive.

The ships may arrive, but the life on board won't. Even hibernation can't be sustained for that long.

Unless …

Unless speed is maintained through the dust clouds, or we accelerate afterward.

Fuel is insufficient.

Fusion fuel is the only source of energy aboard ship, and it needs to be used in other areas: environmental systems, possible course corrections.…

And for deceleration once the target system is reached. NH558J2 is much smaller than the sun. We can't achieve orbit relying solely on gravity for deceleration. We'll have to expend large quantities of fuel, or else we'll fly by the target star system.

All of the fuel on Starship Earth is basically enough for two spacecraft.

But, if we're careful, it's enough for just one.

Fuel.

Fuel.

Fuel.

"And then there's the issue of parts," Dongfang Yanxu said.

Parts.

Parts.

Parts.

Particularly parts for critical systems: fusion engines, information and control systems, environmental systems.

It may not be as urgent as fuel, but it's the foundation of long-term survival. NH55J82 doesn't have a hospitable planet for settlement or establishment of industry, or even the necessary resources to do so. It's just a place to refuel before heading to the next system, where industry can be established to produce parts.

Natural Selection has only two levels of redundancy for key parts.

Too few.

Too few.

Apart from the fusion engines, most of the key parts on Starship Earth are interoperable.

Engine parts can be used after modification.

"Can all personnel be gathered onto one or two ships?" Dongfang Yanxu said aloud, but her voice was only meant to guide the direction of their eye communication.

Impossible.

Impossible.

Impossible. There are too many people. Environmental and hibernation systems can't accommodate them all. If present capacity is boosted even a little, it will be disastrous.

"So, is it clear now?" Dongfang Yanxu's voice resounded in the empty white space like the mutterings of someone deeply asleep.

Clear.

Clear.

Some people must die, or everyone will die.

Then their eyes went silent. The three of them felt an intense desire to turn away, as if shaken by thunder from the depths of the universe that made their souls quake in terror. Dongfang Yanxu was the first to stabilize her own gaze.

"Stop it," she said.

Stop it.

Don't give up.

Don't give up?

Don't give up! Because no one else has given up. If we give up, then we'll be expelled from the Garden of Eden.

Why us?

Of course, it shouldn't be them, either.

But someone has to be expelled. The Garden of Eden has a limited capacity.

We don't want to leave the garden.

So we can't give up!

Three pairs of eyes, so close to breaking apart, locked together again.

Infrasonic H-bomb.

Infrasonic H-bomb.

Infrasonic H-bomb.

Every ship is equipped with them.

It's hard to defend against a stealth launch.

Their gazes separated temporarily as their minds were pushed to the brink of collapse. They needed rest. When the three pairs of eyes met once again, they were uncertain and erratic, like candles flickering in the wind.

Evil!

Evil!

Evil!

We'll become devils!

We'll become devils!

We'll become devils!

"But … what are they thinking?" Dongfang Yanxu asked softly. To the two vice-captains, her voice, while soft, seemed to linger uninterrupted in the white space, like the buzz of a mosquito.

Yes. We don't want to become devils, but who knows what they're thinking.

Then we're already devils, or how else could we think of them as devils unprovoked?

Very well, then we won't think of them as devils.

"That won't solve the problem," Dongfang Yanxu said with a gentle shake of her head.

Yes. Even if they aren't devils, the problem remains.

Because they don't know what we're thinking.

Suppose they know that we're not devils?

The problem still exists.

They don't know what we're thinking about them.

They don't know what we're thinking about what they're thinking about us.

That carries on in an endless chain of suspicion: They don't know what we're thinking about what they're thinking about what we're thinking about what they're thinking about what we're …

How can this chain of suspicion be broken?

Communication?

On Earth, perhaps. But not in space. Some people must die, or everyone will die. This is the unwinnable dead hand that space has dealt for the survival of Starship Earth. An insurmountable wall. In the face of it, communication has no meaning.

Only one choice is left. The question is who makes that choice.

Dark. It's so fucking dark.

"We can't delay any longer," Dongfang Yanxu said decisively.

No more delays. In this dark region of space, the duelists are holding their breath. The string is about to snap.

Every second, the danger grows exponentially.

Since it's all the same no matter who pulls it, why not pull it ourselves?

Then Akira Inoue suddenly broke the silence: "There's another choice!"

We sacrifice ourselves.

Why?

Why us?

The three of us could, but do we have the authority to make this choice on behalf of the two thousand people on Natural Selection?

The three of them were standing on a knife blade. Though its cuts were painful, a jump off either side would be into a bottomless abyss. These were the labor pains for the birth of the new space humans.

"How about this?" Levine said. "First lock in the targets, and then think it over some more."

Dongfang Yanxu nodded. Levine called up a control interface for the weapons system in the air and opened up the window for the infrasonic H-bombs and carrier missiles. On a spherical coordinate system with Natural Selection at the origin, Blue Space, Enterprise, Deep Space, and Ultimate Law were displayed as four points of light two hundred thousand kilometers away. The distance masked the structure of the targets, for at the scale of space, everything was just a point.

But the four points of light were ringed with four red halos, four deathly nooses indicating that the weapons system had already locked on the targets.

Stunned, the three of them looked at each other and shook their heads to say that it wasn't their doing.

Apart from them, privileges to place a target lock in the weapons system were also held by the arms control and target screening officers, but their lock placement had to be authorized by the captain or vice-captain. That left just one other person with direct privileges to lock a target and launch an attack.

We're idiots. He's only someone who's changed history twice!

He realized all of this first!

Who knows when he realized it? Maybe when Starship Earth was founded, or even earlier, when he learned that the combined fleet had been destroyed. He is the last to show worry. Like the parents of his era, always keeping their children in mind.

Dongfang Yanxu flew across the spherical hall as fast as she could, followed closely by the two vice-captains. They went out the door and down that long corridor until they arrived at the door to Zhang Beihai's cabin. Suspended in front of him was an interface identical to the one they had just seen. They rushed forward, but the scene from Natural Selection's escape replayed itself: They crashed into the bulkhead. There was no door, just an oval-shaped area where the bulkhead was transparent.

"What are you doing?" Levine shouted.

"Children," Zhang Beihai said, the first time he had addressed them this way. Even though his back was turned, they could imagine that his eyes were as calm as water. "Let me do this."

"You mean, 'If I don't go to hell, who will?'24 Is that it?" Dongfang Yanxu said in a loud voice.

"From the moment I became a soldier, I was prepared to go there if necessary," he said, continuing with the weapons' prelaunch operations. From outside, the three of them saw that while he wasn't skilled at these operations, every step he took was correct.

Tears welled up in Dongfang Yanxu's eyes, and she cried, "Let's go together. Let me in. I'll go to hell with you!"

He made no answer, but continued his manipulations. He set the guided missiles for manual self-destruct so that they could be detonated by the mother ship while in flight. Only after finishing the last step did he say, "Dongfang, think. Could we have made this choice before? Absolutely not. But now we can make it, because space has turned us into new humans." He set the missiles' warheads to explode at a distance of fifty kilometers from each target. This would avoid causing the targets any internal damage, but an even greater distance would still be within the fatal range for any life aboard the targets. "The birth of a new civilization is the formation of a new morality." He removed the first safety lock on the H-bomb warheads. "When they look back in the future on everything we've done, it may seem entirely normal. So, we won't go to hell, children." The second safety lock was removed.

Suddenly, the alert sounded throughout the ship like the crying of ten thousand ghosts in the darkness of space. Display interfaces popped up in midair like snowflakes, showing a huge quantity of information that Natural Selection's defense systems had received about the incoming missiles, but no one had time to read it.

There was a space of just four seconds from the sounding of the alert to the detonation of the infrasonic H-bombs.

Images transmitted back to Earth from Natural Selection showed that Zhang Beihai may have understood all of this in just one second. He had imagined that his heart had grown as hard as iron through the arduous procession of more than two centuries, but he had overlooked something hidden in the deepest part of his soul, and had hesitated before making the final decision. He tried to restrain the trembling of his heart, and it was that last moment's softness that killed him and everyone on board Natural Selection. After the month-long face-off in the darkness, he was just a few seconds slower than the other ship was.

Three small suns lit up the blackness of space, forming an equilateral triangle with Natural Selection at the center, at an average distance of forty kilometers. The fusion fireball lasted for twenty seconds and sparkled with infrasonic frequencies that were invisible to the naked eye.

The returned images showed that in the three seconds that remained, Zhang Beihai turned to Dongfang Yanxu, flashed her a smile, and spoke: "It doesn't matter. It's all the same."

The exact words were only a guess, because he didn't have time to finish before a powerful electromagnetic pulse arrived from three directions, vibrating Natural Selection's enormous hull like a cicada's wings. The energy in these vibrations was converted to infrasonic waves, which, in the image, looked like a fog of blood that enveloped everything.

The attack had come from Ultimate Law, which had fired twelve cloaked missiles armed with infrasonic H-bombs at the four other ships. The three missiles fired at Natural Selection, which was two hundred thousand kilometers away, had been launched before the others so that the ones fired at its three neighboring ships would reach their detonation points at the same time. A vice-captain had taken over after the suicide of Ultimate Law's captain, but it was unknown who ultimately made the decision to launch the attack. And it would never be known.

Ultimate Law was not one of the lucky ones remaining in the Garden of Eden at the end.

Of the three other pursuing ships, Blue Space had been the best prepared against unexpected incidents. Before it was attacked, it had turned its interior into a vacuum and put all personnel in space suits. Because infrasonic waves were impossible in a vacuum, no personnel were injured, and the body of the ship suffered only minimal damage from the electromagnetic pulse.

Right after the nuclear fireballs exploded, Blue Space began its counterattack with lasers, the fastest response possible. It lit up Ultimate Law with five gamma-ray laser beams and burned five huge holes in its hull. Its insides quickly caught fire and there were minor explosions, causing the ship to lose all combat capability. Harsher attacks from Blue Space followed, and under continuous attack by nuclear missiles and a rain of railgun fire, Ultimate Law exploded violently, leaving no survivors.

At almost the same time as Starship Earth's Battle of Darkness was going on, a similar tragedy was taking place far on the other side of the Solar System. Bronze Age launched a sudden strike on Quantum, using the same infrasonic H-bombs to kill off all life inside its target, but preserving the target ship whole. Because the two ships had sent only minimal information back to Earth, no one knew exactly what had taken place between them. They had both gone into intense acceleration to escape from the probe attack, but they had not decelerated like Natural Selection's pursuers had, so their remaining fuel ought to have been more than enough to return to Earth.

The boundlessness of space nurtured a dark new humanity in its dark embrace.

In the expanding metal cloud formed from the explosion of Ultimate Law, Blue Space rendezvoused with Enterprise and Deep Space, neither of which showed signs of life, and collected all of their fusion fuel. After stripping them of their hardware, Blue Space flew the two hundred thousand kilometers to Natural Selection and did the same to that ship. Starship Earth was like a construction site in space now, the massive hulls of the three dead ships dotted with the sparks of laser welding. If Zhang Beihai had still been alive, the scene would certainly have reminded him of the aircraft carrier Tang two centuries before.

Blue Space took pieces of the three derelict warships and set them up in a Stonehenge formation, forming a tomb in outer space. There, they held a funeral for all the victims of the Battle of Darkness.

Wearing space suits, the 1,273 crew members of Blue Space assembled in a floating formation at the center of the tomb. These were the remaining citizens of Starship Earth. Around them, huge pieces of spaceships towered like a ring of mountains, the gashes cut into the wreckage like enormous mountain caves. The bodies of 4,247 victims remained within this debris, which cast its shadows over all of the living as if they were a mountain valley at midnight. The only light was the iciness of the Milky Way where it shone through the gaps between the wreckage.

Moods remained calm during the funeral. The new space humans had passed through their infancy.

A small votive lamp was lit. It was a fifty-watt bulb with a hundred spare bulbs next to it that would be automatically substituted in the lamp. Powered by a small nuclear battery, the votary lamp could remain continuously lit for tens of thousands of years. Its dim light was like a candle in the mountain valley, casting a small halo onto a high cliff of the wreckage and shining on a piece of titanium bulkhead engraved with the names of the victims. There was no epitaph.

One hour later, the space tomb was illuminated one final time by the light of Blue Space's acceleration. The tomb was traveling at 1 percent of the speed of light. In several hundred years it would decelerate to 0.03 percent of light speed due to the drag from interstellar dust clouds. It would still reach NH558J2 in sixty thousand years, but Blue Space would already have headed off toward its next star system more than fifty thousand years before that.

Blue Space traveled deep into space carrying plenty of fusion fuel and an eight-fold redundant supply of critical parts. There was so much material it was impossible to fit it all inside the craft, so several external storage compartments were attached to the hull, completely altering the ship's appearance and turning it into an enormous, ugly, irregular body. Indeed, it looked like a traveler on a long journey.

The previous year, on the opposite side of the Solar System, Bronze Age had accelerated away from the ruins of Quantum in the direction of Taurus.

Blue Space and Quantum had come from a world of light, but they had become two ships of darkness.

The universe had once been bright, too. For a short time after the big bang, all matter existed in the form of light, and only after the universe turned to burnt ash did heavier elements precipitate out of the darkness and form planets and life. Darkness was the mother of life and of civilization.

On Earth, an avalanche of curses and abuse rolled out into space toward Blue Space and Bronze Age, but the two ships made no reply. They cut off all contact with the Solar System, for to those two worlds, the Earth was already dead.

The two dark ships became one with the darkness, separated by the Solar System and drifting further apart. Carrying with them the entirety of human thoughts and memories, and embracing all of the Earth's glory and dreams, they quietly disappeared into the eternal night.

* * *

"I knew it!"

That was the first thing Luo Ji said upon learning about the Battle of Darkness that had taken place at the edges of the Solar System. Leaving behind a baffled Shi Qiang, he ran out of the room and raced through the neighborhood until he stood facing the northern China desert.

"I was right! I was right!" he shouted at the sky.

It was late at night, and, perhaps because of the rain that had just fallen, atmospheric visibility was excellent. The stars were visible, although they weren't nearly as clear as in the twenty-first century, and they were far sparser than before, since only the brightest could be seen. Yet he still swelled with that feeling he had on that cold night on the frozen lake two centuries ago: Luo Ji the ordinary person had disappeared, and he became a Wallfacer once again.

"Da Shi, I have in my hands the key to human victory!" he said to Shi Qiang, who had followed after him.

Shi Qiang laughed. "Oh?"

Shi Qiang's slightly mocking laughter dashed Luo Ji's excitement. "I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"So what will you do now?" Shi Qiang asked.

Luo Ji sat down on the sand, and his mood crashed rapidly. "What should I do? It looks like there's nothing I can do."

"You could at least find a way to report it upstairs."

"I don't know if that would work, but I'll give it a try. Even if it's just to fulfill my responsibility."

"How high up will you go?"

"The highest. The UN secretary general. Or the chair of the SFJC."

"That won't be easy, I'm afraid. We're just ordinary people now.… Still, you've got to try. You can, uh, go to the city government first. Find the mayor."

"Very well. I'll go to the city, then." He stood up.

"I'll go with you."

"No, I'll go alone."

"Even at this rank, I'm still an official. I'll have an easier time meeting the mayor."

Luo Ji looked up at the sky and asked, "When does the droplet reach Earth?"

"The news said it'll arrive in ten or twenty hours."

"Do you know what it's coming to do? Its mission wasn't to destroy the combined fleet. Nor was it to attack the Earth. It's here to kill me. I don't want you to be with me when it does."

Shi Qiang laughed the same mocking laugh again. "There's still ten hours, right? By that time, I'll just stay farther away from you."

Luo Ji shook his head with a wry smile. "You're not taking me seriously at all. So why do you want to help me?"

"My boy, it's up to the top whether they believe you or not. I always play things safe. If you were selected from out of billions of people two centuries ago, there's got to be a reason, right? If I delay you here, then won't I be condemned by the ages? If the higher-ups don't take you seriously, I won't have lost anything. It's just a trip into the city. But there's one thing: You say that the thing that's flying toward Earth is coming to kill you. I don't believe that at all. I'm well acquainted with killing, and that's excessive, even for Trisolarans."

They reached the passage from the old city to the underground city in the early hours of morning and saw that the elevators going down were still functioning normally. Lots of people were coming out carrying large quantities of luggage. Few were going down, however, and on their elevator there were only two other people.

"Are you hibernators? They're all going up top. Why are you going down?"

"The city's in chaos," one of them, a young man, said. On his clothes, fireballs shone continually against a black background. A closer look revealed that it was an image of the destruction of the combined fleet.

"Then what are you going down for?" Shi Qiang asked.

"I've found a place to live on the surface, so I'm going down to get a few things," he said. Then he nodded at them. "You on the surface are going to get rich. We don't have any houses there, and the property rights to the surface houses are mostly in your hands. We'll have to buy them off you."

"If the underground city collapses and all those people rush to the surface, there's probably not going to be any actual buying or selling," Shi Qiang said.

A middle-aged man huddling in a corner of the elevator was listening to them, and he suddenly covered his face with his hands and let out a whine. "No. Oh…" Then he squatted down and started crying. His clothing showed a classical biblical scene: a naked Adam and Eve standing beneath a tree in the Garden of Eden as a bewitching snake crawled between them. It may have been a symbol for the recent Battle of Darkness.

"There are lots of people like him," the young man said, pointing disdainfully at the weeping man. "Unsound of mind." His eyes lit up. "Actually, doomsday is a wonderful time. The most wonderful time, even. This is the only time in history where there's a chance for people to abandon all of their cares and burdens and belong entirely to themselves. It's stupid to be like him. The most responsible way of life right now is to enjoy ourselves while we can."

When the elevator reached the bottom, Luo Ji and Shi Qiang exited the hall and immediately smelled the strong, strange odor of something burning. The underground city was brighter than before, but it was an irritating white light. Looking around, what Luo Ji saw through the gaps in the huge trees wasn't the blue sky, but a total blank. The projection of the sky on the vault of the underground city had vanished. The blankness reminded him of spherical spaceship cabins he had seen on the news. The lawns were littered with a mess of debris that had fallen from the huge trees. Not far off was the wreckage of several crashed flying cars, one of which was in flames and surrounded by a crowd of people who were picking up other combustibles from the lawn and throwing them into the flames. Someone even threw in his own clothing while it was still flashing images. A ruptured underground pipe sprayed a high column of water, drenching a group of people who played around in it like children. From time to time they would scream excitedly in unison and scatter to avoid debris falling from the trees, then they would regroup and continue their revels. Luo Ji looked up again and saw fires in several places on the trees. The sirens of flying firefighting vehicles screamed as they flew through the air, dangling plucked tree leaves that had caught fire.…

He noticed that the people they met on the streets fell into two types, much like the two people they had encountered in the elevator. One type was depressed, walking with dull eyes or simply sitting on the lawns enduring the torment of despair, a despair whose cause had now shifted from humanity's defeat to the present difficult living conditions. The other type was in a state of crazed excitement and grew intoxicated from indulgence.

Traffic in the city was in chaos. It took Luo Ji and Shi Qiang half an hour to hail a taxi, and when the driverless flying car that carried them passed through the huge trees, Luo Ji was reminded of his first horrific day in the city and felt the tension of riding a roller coaster. Fortunately, the car soon arrived at City Hall.

Shi Qiang had been here several times because of work, and was fairly familiar with the place. After a considerable number of steps, they finally received permission to meet the mayor, but they had to wait until the afternoon. Luo Ji had expected complications, so the mayor's acceptance of the meeting caught him by surprise, since this was an extraordinary time, and they were little people. At lunch, Shi Qiang told Luo Ji that the mayor had taken office the day before. He used to be the official in charge of hibernator affairs in the city government and was, in a way, Shi Qiang's superior, so he knew him fairly well.

"He's one of our countrymen," Shi Qiang said.

In this age, the meaning of the term "countryman" had shifted from geography to temporality. But it wasn't used between all hibernators. Only those who had entered hibernation at roughly the same time counted as countrymen. When they got together across the long years, temporally based countrymen shared an even closer affinity than geographically based countrymen used to.

They waited until half past four to see the mayor. High-ranking officials in this age typically possessed a star quality, with only the most attractive getting elected, but the current mayor was plain. He was about Shi Qiang's age, but far thinner, and he had one trait that made him identifiable as a hibernator at a glance: He wore glasses. They were definitely antiques from two centuries ago, because even contact lenses had long since disappeared. But people who used to wear glasses tended to feel that something was wrong with their appearance when they didn't wear them, so lots of hibernators wore them even after their vision was repaired.

The mayor looked utterly exhausted and seemed to have difficulty rising from his chair. When Shi Qiang apologized for the interruption, and congratulated him on his promotion, he shook his head. "These are vulnerable times. Us rugged savages come in handy again."

"You're the highest-ranking hibernator on Earth, right?"

"Who knows? As the situation develops, we might have countrymen promoted to even higher positions."

"And the former mayor? Mental breakdown?"

"No, no. There are strong people in this age, too. He was very competent, but he was killed in a car crash in a riot area two days ago."

The mayor noticed Luo Ji behind Shi Qiang and immediately extended a hand. "Oh, Dr. Luo, hello. Of course I recognize you. I worshiped you two centuries ago, because out of those four people, you seemed most like a Wallfacer. I really couldn't figure out what you wanted to do." But their hearts sank at the next thing he said. "You're the fourth messiah I've received in the past two days. And there are dozens more waiting outside who I don't have the energy to see."

"Mayor, he's not like them. Two centuries ago—"

"Of course. Two centuries ago, he was selected from billions of people, and it's for that reason that I decided to see you." The mayor pointed at Shi Qiang. "There's something else I need you for, but we'll talk about that afterward. First, let's talk about what you've got. But I have a small request: Can you not talk about your plan to save the world? They're always so long. First just tell me what you need me to do."

After Luo Ji and Shi Qiang explained what they wanted, the mayor immediately shook his head. "Even if I wanted to help, I couldn't. I've got piles of stuff of my own I need to report to the senior leadership. But that level's lower than you imagine. It's just provincial and national leaders. It's hard for everyone. You ought to know that the senior leadership is handling even bigger problems right now."

Luo Ji and Shi Qiang had been paying attention to the news, so naturally they knew about the bigger problems that the mayor referred to.

The annihilation of the combined fleet saw the swift resurrection of Escapism after two centuries of silence. The European Commonwealth had even drafted a plan to select one hundred thousand candidates for departure through a nationwide drawing, and the plan had been passed by a popular vote. But after the results of the drawing, the majority of those who had not been picked were furious, leading to widespread rioting. The public turned unanimously to Escapism as crime against humanity.

After the Battle of Darkness erupted between the surviving warships in outer space, accusations of Escapism gained new meaning: Recent events had proved that when the spiritual bonds with Earth were snapped, people in space suffered total spiritual alienation. So even if escape were successful, what survived would no longer be human civilization, but some other dark and evil thing. And like Trisolaris, that thing would be the antithesis of human civilization and an enemy of it. It had even been given a name: Negacivilization.

As the droplet came closer to Earth, the public's sensitivity to Escapism reached a peak. The media warned it was highly likely that someone would attempt to escape before the droplet's attack. Crowds flocked to the vicinity of the space ports and the base points of the space elevators with the intent of cutting off all channels into space. They did indeed possess that ability. In this age, the citizens of the world all had the freedom to own weapons, and most of them had small laser guns. Of course, a laser pistol posed no threat to the cabin of the space elevator or the launching spacecraft, but unlike a traditional gun, a large number of lasers could focus their light on a single point. If ten thousand laser pistols fired at one point at the same time, they were unstoppable. Crowds numbering in at least the tens of thousands, with up to a million people in places, gathered around the base points and launching sites, and at least a third were carrying weapons. When they saw a cabin ascend or a spacecraft launch, they would fire their weapons simultaneously. The straight path of the laser beam made aiming incredibly precise, so most of the beams would focus on the target and destroy it. In this way, Earth's transport links with space were almost entirely severed.

The chaos grew worse. Over the past couple of days, the target of the attacks had shifted to space cities in synchronous orbit. Rumors flew thick online that certain cities had been converted into escape ships, so they too became subject to attack by the people of Earth. Owing to the vast distance, laser beams dissipated and were weakened by the time they reached targets in space, and given the additional factor of the space cities' rotation, no material injury was caused. But the activity became a kind of collective entertainment for humanity in those last days. That afternoon, the European Commonwealth's third space city, New Paris, had been subject to simultaneous irradiation by ten million laser beams from the northern hemisphere, causing the temperature in the city to rise sharply and prompting the evacuation of its residents. From the space city, the Earth had been brighter than the sun.

There was nothing more for Luo Ji and Shi Qiang to say.

"I was really impressed with your work at the Hibernation Immigration Bureau," the mayor said to Shi Qiang. "And Guo Zhengming. You know him, right? He was just promoted to director of the Public Security Bureau, and he recommended you to me. I hope you'll come work at the city government. We need people like you right now."

Shi Qiang thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Once I've settled things in my neighborhood. How's the situation in the city right now?"

"The situation is deteriorating, but it's still under control. Right now the focus is on maintaining the operation of the induction field power supply. Once that goes, the city will collapse completely."

"These riots are different from those in our day."

"Yeah, they are. First, their source is different. They're sparked by total despair for the future and are incredibly hard to handle. At the same time, we have fewer means at our disposal than in those days." As the mayor was speaking, he pulled up an image on the wall. "This is the central plaza from a height of a hundred meters."

The central plaza was where Luo Ji and Shi Qiang had taken refuge from the flying car. From this vantage point, the Great Ravine Memorial and its surrounding patch of desert couldn't be seen. The entire plaza was white, with white dots crawling around like rice in a pot of porridge.

"Are those people?" Luo Ji asked in wonder.

"Naked people. It's a tremendous sex party, with more than a hundred thousand people, and it's still growing."

Acceptance of heterosexual and homosexual relations in this era was far beyond anything Luo Ji had imagined, and some things were no longer considered remarkable. Still, the sight before them came as a shock to both of them. Luo Ji was reminded of the dissolute scene in the Bible before humanity received the Ten Commandments. A classic doomsday scenario.

"Why doesn't the government put a stop to it?" Shi Qiang asked sharply.

"How would we stop it? They're completely within the law. If we take action, the government would be the one committing a crime."

Shi Qiang let out a long sigh. "Yes, I know. In this age, police and the military can't do much."

The mayor said, "We've been through the law, and we haven't found any provisions for coping with the present situation."

"With the city like this, it would be better if the droplet smashed it apart."

Shi Qiang's words jerked Luo Ji awake. He asked hurriedly, "How long until the droplet gets to Earth?"

The mayor replaced the image of spectacular promiscuity with a breaking news channel showing a simulation of the Solar System. The eye-catching red line that marked the path of the droplet looked like the orbit of a comet, except that it terminated close to the Earth. In the lower right was a countdown clock indicating that if the droplet didn't reduce speed, it would reach Earth in four hours and fifty-four minutes. The news crawl was now displaying an expert analysis of the droplet. Despite the terror gripping the world, the scientific community had recovered its senses after the initial shock of defeat, so the analysis was calm and sober. Though humanity knew absolutely nothing about the droplet's energy source and drive mechanism, the analyst felt that it had run into a power consumption problem, because its acceleration toward the sun after destroying the combined fleet had been particularly sluggish. It had passed close by Jupiter but, ignoring the three warships at the base, used the planet's gravity to accelerate, a move that further demonstrated that the droplet's energy was limited to the point of exhaustion. Scientists believed that the notion that the droplet would crash into Earth was utter nonsense, but they had no idea what it had actually come to do.

Luo Ji said, "I have to leave, or else the city will really be destroyed."

"Why?" the mayor asked.

"Because he thinks the droplet wants to kill him," Shi Qiang said.

The mayor laughed, but his smile was stiff. Apparently he hadn't laughed in a long time. "Dr. Luo, you're the most self-absorbed person I've ever met."