Year 3, Crisis Era(5)

When he saw the oblong slab of iron ore for a second time, his first instinct was to dash himself into it headfirst and put an end to everything. Instead he lay down on the stone's smooth surface, whose coolness drained off some of the irritation from his mind. With his body, he felt the hardness of the ore and, weirdly, thought of a problem put forth by his high school physics teacher: How can you make a marble bed as soft as a Simmons mattress? The answer: Dig out a depression in that marble the exact size and shape of a human body. Then when you lie in that depression, the pressure will be evenly distributed and it would feel incredibly soft. He closed his eyes and imagined that the warmth of his body was melting the iron ore beneath him and forming that kind of depression.… Gradually, this calmed him. After a time, he opened his eyes and looked up at the bare ceiling.

The Meditation Room had been designed by Dag Hammarskjöld, second secretary general of the UN, who believed that the UN ought to have a place for meditation removed from the history-making decisions of the General Assembly Hall. Luo Ji didn't know whether any head of state or ambassador to the UN had actually meditated here, but surely when Hammarskjöld died in 1961 he never imagined that a Wallfacer like himself would be daydreaming here.

Luo Ji felt himself getting snared once again in a logical trap, and once again was convinced that he could not extricate himself.

So he turned his attention to the power in his hands. The least of all the Wallfacers, Say had said, but he would certainly be able to make use of a terrifying amount of resources. Most importantly, he didn't have to justify his use of them to anyone. In fact, an important part of his mandate was to act in such a way as to keep others guessing, and furthermore, to do as much as possible to engender misunderstandings. Never in human history had there been such a thing! Maybe the absolute monarchs of old had been able to do whatever they wished, but even they ultimately had to account for their actions.

If all I'm left with is this peculiar power, why not make use of it? Luo Ji thought to himself, and sat up. After a short time thinking it over, he decided what his next step would be.

He got off the hard bed of stone, opened the door, and asked to see the chair of the PDC.

The incumbent chair, a Russian named Garanin, was a burly, white-bearded old man. The chair's office was one floor below the secretary general's. He was sending off a few visitors, half of them in uniform, when Luo Ji entered.

"Oh, Dr. Luo. I heard you had some minor problems, so I wasn't in a hurry to get in touch with you."

"What are the other three Wallfacers doing?"

"They're busy setting up general staff departments, a task I'd advise you to get on with immediately. I'll send some advisors to assist you in the initial stages."

"I don't need a general staff department."

"Oh? If you think it would be better that way.… If you do have the need, one can be set up at any time."

"May I have a pen and paper?"

"Of course."

Looking at the paper, Luo Ji asked, "Mr. Chair, have you ever had a dream?"

"What sort?"

"For instance, have you ever dreamt of living in some perfect place?"

Garanin shook his head with a wry smile. "I just flew in from London yesterday. I worked the entire trip, and when I arrived I slept less than two hours before I had to rush to work. When today's regular PDC meeting finishes, I'll have to fly overnight to Tokyo.… My whole life is rushing around, and I'm at home no more than three months out of the year. What's the point of that kind of dream for me?"

"In my dreams, I've got lots of those places. I've chosen the most beautiful." Luo Ji picked up the pencil and began sketching on the paper. "This isn't colored, so you've got to imagine it. See these snowcapped mountains here? They're steep like the swords of the gods or the tusks of the earth, and they shine a satiny silver against the blue sky. Utterly dazzling…"

"Ah," Garanin said, watching with careful attention. "That's a very cold place."

"Wrong! The land beneath the snowcaps must not be cold. It's a subtropical climate. This is important! In front of the mountains there's a broad lake, and the water is even bluer than the sky, as blue as your wife's eyes.…"

"My wife's eyes are black."

"Well, the lake water is a blue so deep it looks black. That's even better. Surrounding the lake are swaths of forest and grasslands, but remember that there have to be both, not just one of the two. This is the place: snow peaks, a lake, forests, and grasslands. And everything is in its untouched, primeval state. When you see the place, you would imagine that man had never set foot on the Earth. Here, on the grass beside the lake, build a house. It doesn't need to be large, but it should be fully equipped for modern living. The style can be either classical or modern, but it should complement its natural surroundings. And the necessary facilities—fountains, a swimming pool—should be provided so that its master can live the comfortable life of the aristocracy."

"And who will its master be?"

"Myself."

"What are you going to do there?"

"Live out my days in peace."

Luo Ji waited for Garanin to say something rude, but the chair simply nodded gravely, and said, "After an audit by the commission, we will carry this out at once."

"You and your commission won't raise any questions about my motivation?"

Garanin shrugged. "The commission can question the Wallfacers in two areas: use of resources exceeding the set scope, and harm caused to human lives. Apart from these, all questions are in violation of the spirit of the Wallfacer Project. And truth be told, Tyler, Rey Diaz, and Hines have left me disappointed. Looking at their strategizing over the past two days, you can tell immediately what they are up to with their grand strategic plans. You're different from them. Your behavior is baffling. That's what a Wallfacer should be like."

"Do you really believe the place I described exists?"

Garanin smiled, winked, and made an "okay" sign. "The world is big enough to have a place like that. Besides, to tell you the truth, I've seen it before."

"That's wonderful, truly. And make sure that I can live a comfortable aristocrat's life. This is part of the Wallfacer Project."

Garanin nodded gravely.

"Oh, and one other thing. When you find a suitable place, never tell me where it is."

No, you can't say where it is! Once I know where I am, then the world becomes as narrow as a map. When I don't know, the world feels unlimited.

Garanin nodded again, seemingly pleased this time. "Dr. Luo, you've got another trait that satisfies my notion of being a Wallfacer: Your project requires the smallest investment of the four, at least for the time being."

"If that's the case, then mine will never have the largest investment."

"Then you'll be a blessing to all my successors. Money is a real headache.… The specific departments in charge of executing this may consult with you on some details. The house, in particular, I think."

"Oh, the house," Luo Ji said. "I forgot one very important detail."

"Go on."

Luo Ji imitated Garanin's wink and smile. "It needs a fireplace."

* * *

After his father's funeral, Zhang Beihai went with Wu Yue one more time to the carrier dry dock, where construction on Tang had been suspended entirely. The welding sparks had vanished from the hull, and there were no signs of life anywhere on the giant ship lying in the noonday sun. The overarching impression it gave was one of the passage of time.

"It's dead," Zhang Beihai said.

"Your father was one of the wisest generals among the navy's top brass. If he were still with us, I might not have gotten so thoroughly stuck," Wu Yue said.

Zhang Beihai said, "Your defeatism is built on a rational basis, or at least it's your own reasoning, so I don't believe there's anyone who can truly cheer you up. I'm not here to apologize, Wu Yue. I know you don't hate me over this."

"I'd like to thank you, Beihai. You got me out."

"You can return to the navy. Working there should suit you quite well."

Wu Yue shook his head slowly. "I've submitted my discharge application. What would I do if I went back? Construction on new destroyers and frigates has stopped, and I no longer have any place in the fleet. Sit in an office in Fleet Command? Forget it. Besides, I'm not a good soldier at all. A soldier who's only willing to engage in a winnable war is unqualified to be one."

"Victory or defeat is not for us to see."

"But you have faith in victory, Beihai. I envy you, really, to the point of jealousy. Faith like yours is the height of happiness for a military man these days. You truly are your father's son."

"So do you have any plans?"

"No. I feel like my life is over." Wu Yue pointed at Tang in the distance. "Just like that, over before it even launched."

A low rumble came from the direction of the shipyard, and Tang slowly started to move. To vacate the dock, it had to take to the water ahead of schedule and be towed to another dock for demolition. When Tang's sharp prow split the seawater, Zhang Beihai and Wu Yue sensed a trace of anger in the massive hull. Quickly, it entered the sea, tossing up huge waves that caused the other boats in the port to rock, as if paying tribute. Tang crept slowly forward in the water, quietly enjoying the sea's embrace. In its brief and aborted career, this giant ship had at least met the ocean once.

* * *

In the virtual Three Body world, it was the dead of night. Apart from scraps of starlight, all was immersed in an inky blackness, so that even the horizon was invisible, and the empty land and sky blended together in the dark.

"Administrator, start up a Stable Era. Can't you see we're holding a meeting?" shouted a voice.

The administrator's voice seemed to come from the sky itself. "I can't do that. The era is run randomly along the core model and can't be set externally."

Another voice in the darkness said, "Then increase the speed and find some stable daylight. It won't take too long."

The world flashed. Suns flew across the sky, and soon time returned to normal. One stable sun illuminated the world.

"Okay. I don't know how long this will last," the administrator said.

The sun shone in the wilderness on a group of people, some familiar faces among them: King Wen of Zhou, Newton, Von Neumann, Aristotle, Mozi, Confucius, and Einstein. Sparsely distributed, they faced Qin Shi Huang, who stood on a rock with a sword across his shoulders.

"I am not alone," he said. "This is the core leadership of seven speaking."

"You shouldn't be talking about a new leadership before it's been finalized," someone said, and a clamor rose among the rest.

"Enough," Qin Shi Huang said, struggling to raise the sword. "Setting aside the leadership controversy for the moment, we shall turn to more pressing matters. We all know of the launch of the Wallfacer Project, humanity's attempt to use closed-off, private strategic thinking to resist sophon surveillance. Since the Lord's transparent mind cannot possibly thread that labyrinth, humanity has regained its edge through this plan, and the four Wallfacers pose a threat to the Lord. In accordance with the resolution of the previous offline meeting, we must launch the Wallbreaker Project immediately."

At those last words, silence reigned, and no one voiced any objections.

Then Qin Shi Huang said, "We will appoint a Wallbreaker for each Wallfacer. Like the Wallfacers, the Wallbreakers will be authorized to tap all of the organization's resources, but their greatest resource will be the sophons, which will render the Wallfacers' every action utterly exposed. The only secret will be their thoughts. The Wallbreakers' mission, then, is to analyze the Wallfacers' open and clandestine actions, with the help of the sophons, and decipher the true nature of their strategic aims as early as possible. The leadership will now appoint the Wallbreakers."

Qin Shi Huang extended the sword and, as if conferring knighthood, touched it to Von Neumann's shoulder. "You are the First Wallbreaker," he said. "You are Frederick Tyler's Wallbreaker."

Von Neumann knelt down and placed his left hand to his right shoulder in a salute. "I accept the mission."

Qin Shi Huang touched the sword to Mozi's shoulder. "You are the Second Wallbreaker. You are Manuel Rey Diaz's Wallbreaker."

Mozi did not kneel, but stood straight and nodded haughtily. "I will be the first to break a wall."

The sword touched Aristotle's shoulder. "You are the Third Wallbreaker. You are Bill Hines's Wallbreaker."

Aristotle did not kneel either, but shook his robe and said thoughtfully, "Yes, I'm the only one who can break his wall."

Qin Shi Huang returned the sword to his own shoulder and swept his gaze across the crowd. "Good. We now have Wallbreakers. You, like the Wallfacers, are the elite of the elite. The Lord be with you! Assisted by hibernation, you will start the long journey to the end of days together with the Wallfacers."

"I don't think hibernation is necessary," Aristotle said. "I can complete the Wallbreaker mission before we finish our normal lifespan."

Mozi nodded in agreement. "When I break the wall, I will face my Wallfacer in person, and I will savor how his spirit collapses in anguish and despair. Devoting the rest of my life to this is well worth it."

The final Wallbreaker likewise stated his intent to break their Wallfacers in person. Von Neumann said, "We will unmask the last traces of every secret that humanity harbors from the sophons. This is the final thing we can do for the Lord, for afterward there will be no reason for us to exist."

"What about Luo Ji's Wallbreaker?" someone asked.

The question seemed to touch something in Qin Shi Huang's mind. He planted the sword into the ground and fell deep in thought. The sun suddenly sped up its descent to the Earth, lengthening the shadows until they extended to the horizon. When it had set halfway, it abruptly changed direction and rose and fell a few times along the horizon, like the gleaming back of a whale cresting out of the black ocean, pulling the vast wilderness and the small group of people that made up this stark world back and forth between light and darkness.

"Luo Ji is his own Wallbreaker. He needs to find out what threat he poses to the Lord," Qin Shi Huang said.

"Do we know whether or not he is a threat?" someone asked.

"I don't know, but the Lord knows, and Evans knew. Evans taught the Lord how to keep this secret, and he's dead. We can't know."

"So of all the Wallfacers, is Luo Ji the greatest threat?" someone hesitantly asked.

"We don't know that either. Only one thing is clear," Qin Shi Huang said, looking up at the canopy of the sky as it changed from blue to black. "Out of the four Wallfacers, he is the only one in direct contest with the Lord."

Work meeting, Space Force Political Department

Chang Weisi stayed silent for a long while after opening the meeting, something he had never done before. He swept his eyes across the two rows of political officers at the conference table, then looked into the infinite distance while gently tapping his pencil on the tabletop, a light tapping that seemed to mark time for his thoughts. At last, he pulled himself out of his reverie.

"Comrades, by an order announced yesterday by the Central Military Commission, I am now serving as commander of the Political Department of the Armed Forces. I accepted the appointment one week ago, but only now that we are seated together do I feel conflicted. I have suddenly realized that in front of me is the most beleaguered group of people in the space force, and now I am one of your number. I didn't realize this before, and for this I apologize to you." He opened the document in front of him. "This portion of the meeting will be off the record. Comrades, let us have a candid exchange of views. Let us be Trisolarans for once and open our thoughts to each other. This is crucial for our future work."

Chang Weisi's gaze lingered on the face of each officer for a second or two, but they remained silent. Then he stood up and paced along the table behind the row of seated officers.

"Our duty is to build in our forces the faith that we will be victorious in the future war. So, do we have that faith ourselves? Please raise your hands if you do. Remember, we are speaking our minds."

No one raised a hand. Nearly everyone was staring at the table. But Chang Weisi noticed one man's gaze was fixed straight ahead: Zhang Beihai.

He went on, "Do you believe that victory is possible? By possible, I mean not an accidental few tenths of a percent, but an actual, meaningful possibility."

Zhang Beihai raised a hand. His was the only hand raised.

"First let me thank all of you for your honesty," Chang Weisi said, and then turned to Zhang Beihai. "Excellent, Comrade Zhang. Tell us, on what do you base your confidence?"

Zhang Beihai stood up, but Chang Weisi motioned for him to sit down. "This is not a formal meeting," he said. "It's just a heart-to-heart chat."

Still standing at attention, Zhang Beihai said, "Commander, I can't answer your question sufficiently in just a few words, because building faith is a long and complicated process. First of all, I'd like to make note of the mistaken thinking among the troops at the present time. We all know that prior to the Trisolar Crisis, we had been advocating for the examination of the future of war from scientific and rational perspectives, and a powerful inertia has sustained this mentality to the present day. This is particularly the case in the present space force, where it has been exacerbated by the influx of a large number of academics and scientists. If we use this mentality to contemplate an interstellar war four centuries in the future, we'll never be able to establish faith in a victory."

"What Comrade Zhang Beihai says is peculiar," a colonel said. "Is steadfast faith not built upon science and reason? No faith is solid that is not founded on objective fact."

"Then let's take another look at science and reason. Our own science and reason, remember. The Trisolarans' advanced development tells us that our science is no more than a child collecting shells on the beach who hasn't even seen the ocean of truth. The facts we see under the guidance of our science and reason may not be the true, objective facts. And since that's the case, we need to learn how to selectively ignore them. We should see how things change as they develop, and we shouldn't write off the future through technological determinism and mechanical materialism."

"Excellent," Chang Weisi said, and nodded at him to continue.

"We must establish faith in victory, a faith that is the foundation of military duty and dignity! When the Chinese military once faced a powerful enemy under extremely poor conditions, it established a firm faith in victory through a sense of responsibility to the people and the motherland. I believe that today, a sense of responsibility to the human race and to Earth civilization can encourage the same faith."

"But how are we supposed to go about specific ideological work?" asked an officer. "The space force is made up of complicated parts, which means that its ideology is complex. We've got our work cut out for us."

"I think that for the time being, at least, we should start with the mental condition of the troops," Zhang Beihai said. "Big picture: Last week I visited troops from the air force and naval air force that have just been brought under our branch, and I discovered that day-to-day training for these forces is incredibly slack. Small picture: Problems with military discipline are cropping up with increasing frequency. There was supposed to be a total switch to summer uniforms, but lots of people in headquarters are still wearing their winter uniforms. This state of mind must be changed as quickly as possible. Look, the space force is turning into an academy of sciences. Of course, we can't deny that its present mission is that of an academy of military sciences, but we ought to be conscious that we are an army, and we're an army in a state of war!"

The conversation went on for a while longer, and then Chang Weisi returned to his seat. "Thank you. I hope that we will be able to continue having frank conversations. Now, let's move on to the contents of the formal meeting." As he spoke, he looked up and once again saw Zhang Beihai's steady gaze, which revealed a determination that warmed his heart a little.

Zhang Beihai, I know you have faith. With a father like that, it would be impossible for you not to. But things are definitely not as simple as you say. I don't know what you base your faith on, and I don't even know what else your faith encompasses. Just like your father. I admired him, but I have to admit that in the end I couldn't figure him out.

Chang Weisi flipped open the document in front of him. "Research on space warfare theory is in full swing at present, but one problem has already cropped up: The study of interplanetary warfare needs to be founded on a certain level of technological development, no doubt about it. But right now, basic research has only just begun, and technological breakthroughs will occur far in the future. This means our research has no support. Headquarters has revised the research plan in light of the circumstances, and has divided unified research on the theory of space warfare into three parts, to cater to the possible technological levels that the human world may reach in the future. Namely: a low-tech strategy, a mid-tech strategy, and a high-tech strategy.

"Work is currently in progress to define these three levels of technology, as well as to define a large number of index parameters in every major scientific discipline, but the core parameter will be the speed and range of a ten-kiloton-class spaceship.

"The Low-Tech Level: Spacecraft speed achieves fifty times the third cosmic velocity10, or roughly eight hundred kilometers per second. Spacecraft are not equipped with life support. Under these conditions, the craft has a combat radius limited to the inner Solar System. That is, within Neptune's orbit, or thirty AU from the sun.

"The Mid-Tech Level: Spacecraft speed achieves three hundred times the third cosmic velocity, or forty-eight hundred kilometers per second. Spacecraft are equipped with partial life support. Under these conditions, the combat radius of the craft extends beyond the Kuiper Belt, and includes all space within one thousand AU of the sun.

"The High-Tech Level: Spacecraft speed achieves one thousand times the third cosmic velocity, or sixteen thousand kilometers per second, which is five percent of the speed of light. Spacecraft are fully equipped with life support. Under these conditions, the combat radius extends to the Oort Cloud11, with preliminary interstellar navigation capabilities.

"Defeatism is the greatest threat to the armed forces in space, so political and ideological workers will shoulder an extremely important responsibility in the space force. Political departments in the military will participate fully in the study of space warfare theory to eradicate the stain of defeatism and guarantee the correct direction of research.

"Those of you present today will become members of a space warfare theory task force. Although there will be some overlap among members of the three branches, the research institutions are independent, and will tentatively be known as the Institute for Low-Tech Strategy, the Institute for Mid-Tech Strategy, and the Institute for High-Tech Strategy. At today's meeting, I'd like to hear from each of you which one you would choose, as a reference for the Political Department's next round of work appointments. Let's share our selections."

Of the thirty-two political officers at the meeting, twenty-four selected low-tech and seven selected mid-tech. Just one officer chose high-tech: Zhang Beihai.

"Looks like Comrade Beihai wants to get into science fiction," someone said, to scattered laughter.

"My choice is the only hope for victory. That's the only level of technology that gives humanity any chance of building an effective defensive system for the Earth and Solar System," Zhang Beihai said.

"We haven't even mastered controlled nuclear fusion. Sending a ten-thousand-ton warship to five percent of the speed of light? Ten thousand times faster than the truck-sized spacecraft humanity has today? It's not even science fiction. It's fantasy!"

"But don't we have four more centuries? We've got to keep potential progress in mind."

"But progress in fundamental physics is impossible."

"We haven't even tapped one percent of the potential applications of existing theories," Zhang Beihai said. "My feeling is that the biggest problem right now is the technology sector's approach to research. They're wasting too much time and money on low-end technology. In propulsion, for example, there's no reason at all to work on the fission drive, but right now they're not only throwing huge amounts of R&D at it, they're even putting the same amount of effort into studying next-gen chemical propulsion! We should focus our resources on studying fusion engines, and move directly to the development of media-free fusion engines, leapfrogging media-based fusion. The same problem exists in other areas of research. Sealed ecosystems, for instance, are a necessary technology for interstellar spacecraft, one that is not particularly dependent on fundamental theory, but research in this area is very limited."

Chang Weisi said, "Comrade Zhang Beihai has posed at least one question worthy of attention: The military and scientific communities are all busy starting their own work, but there is insufficient communication among them. Fortunately, both sides are aware of the situation and are organizing a joint conference, and the military and the scientific communities have each established special agencies to strengthen communication between the two sides and establish a fully interactive relationship between space strategy and scientific research. The next step is to dispatch military representatives to the various research areas and to involve a large group of scientists in studying the theory of space warfare. Again, we can't sit and wait for technological breakthroughs. We ought to form our own ideological strategy as soon as possible and then promote it in every field.

"Next, I'd like to talk about another layer of relationships: that between the space force and the Wallfacers."

"The Wallfacers?" someone asked in wonder. "Are they going to interfere in space force work?"

"There's no sign of that at the moment, although Tyler has proposed paying an inspection visit to the military. But we ought to realize that they do have that power, and any interference that does take place may have unanticipated effects. We need to be mentally prepared for it. When such a situation does occur, we should maintain a balance between the Wallfacer Project and mainstream defense."

After the meeting, Chang Weisi sat alone in the empty conference room smoking a cigarette. The smoke wafted into a beam of sunlight shining through the window and seemed to catch fire.

Whatever happens, at least it's begun, he thought to himself.

* * *

For the first time, Luo Ji felt that a dream had come true. He had imagined that Garanin was only boasting—of course he could find a stunning, untouched place, but it was certain to be quite different from the place in his imagination. But when he got off the helicopter, it was like he had stepped into a dream world: the distant snow peaks, the lake in front of him, the grassy plain and forest beside the lake, all of it laid out exactly as he had sketched it for Garanin. And he hadn't dared permit himself to imagine such an immaculate environment. Everything seemed to have sprung out of a fairy tale. There was a slight sweetness to the fresh air, and even the sun seemed to be cautious, sending the softest and most exquisite part of its glow into this place. The most incredible thing was the small estate beside the lake and the villa at its heart. Kent, who was traveling with him, said the house was built in the mid-nineteenth century, but it looked older, and the passage of time had made it blend in with its environment.

"Don't be surprised. Sometimes people dream of places that really exist," Kent said.

"Does anyone live here?" Luo Ji asked.

"No one in a five-kilometer radius. Beyond that there are a few small villages."

Luo Ji guessed that the place might be in northern Europe, but he didn't ask.

Kent led him into the house. With his first glance at the spacious European-style living room, Luo Ji saw a fireplace, with fruitwood stacked neatly next to it that gave off a fresh fragrance.

"The former master of the house bids you welcome. He is proud to have a Wallfacer living here." Kent went on to tell him that the estate contained more than just the facilities he had requested: stables with ten horses, because the best way to get to the mountains was by walking and riding; a tennis court and a golf course; a wine cellar; and, on the lake, a motorboat and a few sailboats. Beneath its old exterior, the house had been fully modernized. Every room was equipped with a computer, broadband, and satellite television, and there was a digital projection room as well. In addition to all of this, Luo Ji had noticed a helipad when he arrived. It was clearly not built at the last minute.

"The man's got money."

"Not just money. He doesn't want to disclose his identity, but you would probably recognize his name if I told you. He donated the land to the UN, a far larger gift than Rockefeller's. Just so you're clear, the land and all of the real estate on it belong to the UN. You only have right of residence. But you're not getting nothing. When the owner left, he said that he had taken away all of his personal belongings and that whatever is left is yours. These paintings alone must be worth quite a bit."

Kent took Luo Ji on a tour of every room in the house. He noticed that the original owner had good taste and had furnished every room with a sense of elegant tranquility. A considerable portion of the books in the library were old Latin editions. The paintings were mostly in the modernist style, but they did not seem out of place in rooms with a rich classical atmosphere. One thing in particular that struck him was the total absence of landscapes, the mark of a mature aesthetic sensibility: hanging landscape paintings in a house situated in the Garden of Eden would be as pointless as pouring a bucket of water into the ocean.

Returning to the living room, Luo Ji sat down on the deliciously comfortable chair in front of the fireplace. He stretched out his hand and brushed against an object, which he then picked up and inspected. A churchwarden pipe, the kind with a long, thin stem, used indoors by the leisure class. He looked toward the wall and its empty shelves and imagined what had been taken down.

Then Kent came in and introduced a few people: the housekeeper, cook, driver, groom, and boat master, all of whom had been in the previous owner's service. When they had gone, Kent introduced him to a lieutenant colonel in civvies, who was responsible for security. After he left, Luo Ji asked Kent where Shi Qiang was.

"He's handed over your security detail and has probably returned home."

"Let him take the place of that guy just now. I think he'll do a better job."

"I feel the same way, but he doesn't speak English. It would be hard for him to do his job."

"Then bring in Chinese guards to replace the ones here."

Kent agreed and left to make the call. Luo Ji also left the room and walked across the manicured lawn onto a pier leading out into the middle of the lake. He held the railing at the end and gazed at the reflection of the snowcaps in the lake's mirror surface. Surrounded by sweet air and sunshine, he said to himself, "Compared to life today, what does the world four centuries from now matter?"

Screw the Wallfacer Project.

* * *

"How did that bastard get in?" the researcher at the terminal said softly.

"Wallfacers are naturally free to enter," his neighbor answered quietly.

"It's pretty dull, isn't it? I expect you're disappointed, Mr. President," Dr. Allen, director of the Los Alamos National Laboratory, said to Rey Diaz as he led him past the rows of computer terminals.

"I'm no longer president," Rey Diaz said severely, as he surveyed his surroundings.

"This is our nuclear weapons simulation center. Los Alamos has four of these centers, and Lawrence Livermore has three."

Two objects caught Rey Diaz's eye as being not entirely dull. They looked new, with large displays and consoles with lots of fine knobs. He headed over to take a closer look, but Allen pulled him back. "That's a game machine. The terminals here aren't for gaming, so we brought in two machines for relaxation."

Rey Diaz noticed another two not-entirely-dull objects. Transparent and structurally complicated, they contained a bubbling liquid. Again, he started over to take a look, and this time Allen shook his head with a smile and did not stop him. "That one's a humidifier. The climate is dry in New Mexico. The other one's just a coffee machine. Mike, pour Mr. Rey Diaz a cup of coffee.… No, wait, not from that. I'll brew you a cup of top-shelf roast in my office."

The only thing left for Rey Diaz to do was to examine the blown-up black-and-white photographs hanging on the wall. He recognized the skinny man wearing a hat and smoking a pipe as Oppenheimer, then Allen directed his attention back to the bland terminals.

"These displays are obsolete," Rey Diaz said.

"But behind them is the most powerful computer in the world, operating at thirty petaFLOPS."

An engineer came up to Allen. "Doctor, the AD4453OG is operational."

"Excellent."

The engineer lowered his voice. "We've suspended the output module," he said, and glanced at Rey Diaz.

"Run it," Allen said, then turned to Rey Diaz: "See, we've got nothing to hide from the Wallfacers."

Then Rey Diaz heard tearing sounds and saw the people at the terminals ripping paper apart. Assuming that they were destroying documents, he muttered, "Don't you even have a shredder?" But then he noticed that they were tearing up blank copy paper. Then someone shouted, "Over!" and everyone cheered and tossed the shredded paper into the air, making the cluttered floor even more like a garbage dump.

"This is a simulation center tradition. When the first atom bomb was exploded, Dr. Fermi tossed torn paper into the air, and according to the distance the pieces drifted in the shock wave, he was able to accurately compute the yield of the bomb. Now we do the same thing for every simulation we run."

Rey Diaz brushed the paper from his head and shoulders, and said, "You run nuclear tests every day, but to you it's as easy as playing a video game. It's not like that for us. We don't have supercomputers. We've got to do real tests.… We do the same things, but the poor always end up being the nuisance."

"Mr. Rey Diaz, no one here is interested in politics."

Rey Diaz leaned in to take a closer look at the terminals, but saw only scrolling data and shifting curves. When he finally did locate some graphics, they were so abstract he couldn't make anything out. When he leaned toward another terminal, the physicist seated in front of it looked up and said, "Mr. President, if you're looking for a mushroom cloud, it's not there."

"I'm not the president," Rey Diaz repeated, as he accepted the coffee Allen handed him.

Allen said, "Then we ought to talk about what we can do for you."

"Design a nuclear bomb."

"Of course. Los Alamos may be a multidisciplinary institution, but I suspected you wouldn't be here for any other reason. Can you give me any specifics? What type? What yield?"

"The PDC will send you the completed technical requirements before long, so I'll just brief you on the key points. Large yield, the largest possible. As large as you can make it. Two hundred megatons at an absolute minimum."

Allen stared at him for a moment, and then bent his head in thought. "That will require some time."

"Don't you have mathematical models?"

"Of course we do. We have models for everything from five-hundred-ton shells to large twenty-megaton bombs, from neutron bombs to EMP bombs, but the explosive yield you're asking for is far too large. It's more than ten times the world's largest thermonuclear device. It would have to have a totally different trigger and staging from a conventional nuclear weapon, and it might even require an entirely new structure. We don't have a model that fits."

They spoke some more about the general planning of various research projects, and when it came time to leave, Allen said, "Mr. Rey Diaz, I know you have the best physicists on your staff at the PDC. I assume they've told you about the applications of nuclear weapons to space warfare?"

"You're permitted to be redundant."

"Very well. In space warfare, nuclear bombs may be low-efficiency weapons, since nuclear explosions produce no shock wave in the vacuum of space and only negligible pressure from the light they generate, so they don't produce the mechanical impact found in explosions in the atmosphere. All their energy is released in the form of radiation and electromagnetic pulses, and, at least for humans, radiation and EM shielding on spacecraft is a fairly mature technology."

"And if the target is directly hit?"

"That's a different thing altogether. In that case, heat will be a decisive factor, and the target may be melted or even vaporized. But one bomb of a few hundred million tons will probably be as big as a building, so I'm afraid it won't be easy to score a direct hit.… In fact, the mechanical impact of nuclear weapons doesn't measure up to kinetic weapons, their radiation is less intense than particle beam weapons, and their thermal destruction can't compare to gamma-ray lasers."

"But those weapons aren't combat ready. Nuclear bombs are humanity's most powerful mature weapons. And as for the performance issues you mention in space combat, ways can be found to improve them. Adding a medium to create a shock wave, for example, like putting ball bearings in a grenade."

"That's an intriguing idea. Your STEM background shows through."

"My studies were in nuclear energy, which is why I like nuclear bombs. I've got a good feeling about them."

Allen laughed. "I almost forgot: It's ridiculous to discuss issues like this with a Wallfacer."

The two men laughed, but Rey Diaz quickly grew serious and said, "Dr. Allen, like everyone else, you're treating the Wallfacer strategy as something mysterious. The most powerful combat-ready weapon available to mankind right now is the hydrogen bomb. Focusing on that is only natural, isn't it? I believe my approach is the correct one."

The two men stopped on the quiet path through the woods they had been walking along. Allen said, "Fermi and Oppenheimer walked down this road countless times. After Hiroshima and Nagasaki, most of the architects of the first generation of nuclear weapons spent the rest of their lives mired in depression. They would be gratified if they knew the mission that humanity's nuclear weapons are now facing."

"No matter how frightening they might be, weapons are a good thing.… Just to let you know, the next time I come, I hope I won't see you throwing scrap paper around. We should make a tidy impression on the sophons."

* * *

Keiko Yamasuki woke up in the middle of the night to find herself alone, the sheets beside her cool. She got up, dressed, and went out the door. At first glance she saw her husband's shadow in the bamboo grove in the yard, as usual. They had homes in England and in Japan, but Hines preferred his Japanese home. He said that the moonlight of the East calmed his heart. There was no moon tonight. The bamboo and his kimono-clad figure lost their dimensionality and looked like paper cuttings hung beneath the stars.

Hines heard Keiko Yamasuki's footsteps but did not look back. Strangely, Keiko wore the same shoes in England as in Japan. Even in her hometown she never wore geta. But it was only here, never in England, that he could hear her footsteps.

"My love, you haven't slept properly for days," she said. Her voice was soft, but the summer insects stopped chirping and peace flooded like water over everything.

She heard her husband sigh. "Keiko, I can't do it. I can't think of anything. Really, I can't come up with anything at all."

"No one can. I say an ultimate victory plan doesn't exist." She took two steps forward but was still separated from Hines by a few stalks of bamboo. The grove was their place for contemplation, and the inspiration for most of their previous research had its source here. They rarely brought intimacy to this sacred place, but always addressed each other courteously, as befitted an atmosphere seemingly imbued with Eastern philosophy. "Bill, you should relax. Doing the best you can is enough."

He turned around, but in the darkness of the grove his face was indistinct. "How is that possible? Every step I take consumes a massive amount of resources."

"Then why not adopt this approach?" Keiko's answer came swiftly. She had obviously been thinking about the question. "Choose a direction that, even if you're unsuccessful, will do something beneficial while it is being carried out."

"Keiko, that's exactly what I've been thinking about. Here's what I've decided to do: Even if I can't come up with a plan, I can help other people think of one."

"What other people? The other Wallfacers?"

"No, they're not much better off than I am. I mean our descendants. Keiko, have you ever considered this fact? The outcome of natural biological evolution requires at least twenty thousand years to manifest itself, but human civilization has just five thousand years of history, and modern technological civilization just two hundred. That means that the study of modern science today is being done by the brain of primitive man."

"You want to use technology to accelerate the brain's evolution?"

"We've been doing brain research, and we ought to put more effort into expanding it to a scale that can tackle a planetary defense system. If we work hard for a century or two, we might be able to increase human intelligence and allow the science of the future to break out of the sophons' prison."

"Intelligence is a vague term in our field. What in particular—"

"I mean intelligence in the broadest sense of the word. Not just the traditional meaning of logical reasoning, but learning ability, imagination, and innovation as well. And also the ability to accumulate common sense and experience while preserving intellectual vigor. And enhancing mental endurance, so that a brain can think continuously without fatigue. And we can even consider the possibility of eliminating sleep. And so forth."

"What will it take? Do you have even a rough idea?"

"No. Not yet. Perhaps the brain can be connected directly to a computer, which can use its computing power to amplify human intelligence. Or maybe we can achieve a direct interface between human brains and blend different people's thoughts. Or inherit memories. But whatever avenue we ultimately take to increase human intelligence, we must first begin from a fundamental understanding of the mechanisms of the human brain."

"And that's precisely our area of interest."

"We can continue in the same career as before. The difference will be that we can tap huge resources to do it!"

"Love, I'm truly happy. I'm ecstatic! There's just one thing. As a Wallfacer, don't you think this plan is a little…"

"A little indirect? Maybe. But think about it, Keiko. Human civilization ultimately comes down to humans themselves. If we start by elevating humans, doesn't that make this a far-reaching plan? Besides, what else can I do?"

"Bill, you're wonderful!"

"So think about this for a moment: If we turn neuroscience and thought research into a world engineering project, and can invest an inconceivably enormous amount of money in it, how long will we have to wait for success?"

"About a century, more or less."

"Let's be a little more pessimistic and say two centuries. Then the highly intelligent humans will still have two centuries left, and if they use one century to develop fundamental science and another to turn those theories into technology…"

"Even if it fails, we'll have done what we wanted to do."

"Keiko, come with me to the end of days," Hines murmured.

"Yes, Bill. We certainly have the time."

The insects in the grove seemed to have grown accustomed to their presence and resumed their musical chirping. When a soft wind blew through the bamboo and the stars in the night sky flashed through the gaps between the leaves, it was as if the insect chorus was issuing from those stars.

* * *

It was day three of the PDC's first Wallfacer Project Hearing. Rey Diaz and Hines had spoken about the first phase of their respective projects, which were put to preliminary discussion by representatives of the PDC permanent members.

Rey Diaz and Hines had both submitted their plans at the previous hearing, but Tyler had delayed his first disclosure until this session, leaving representatives particularly eager for details.

Tyler started with a brief introduction: "I need to establish an armed force in space that will supplement Earth's fleet but be under my command."

Just one sentence in, the hands of the other two Wallfacers shot up.

"Mr. Hines and I have been accused of overuse of resources in our plans," Rey Diaz broke in. "But this is absurd. Mr. Tyler wants to have his own space force!"

"I didn't say it was a space force," Tyler said calmly. "The intent is not to construct warships or large spaceships, but to establish a fleet of space fighters. They'll each be roughly the size of a conventional Earth-based fighter and will carry a single pilot. They'll be like mosquitoes in space, so I've dubbed this the 'mosquito swarm plan.' The formation needs to be at least equal to the size of the invading Trisolaran Fleet. A thousand ships."

"You would attack a Trisolaran warship with a mosquito? That's not even going to raise a welt," a hearing member said dismissively.

Tyler raised a finger. "Not if each of those mosquitoes is equipped with a hundred-megaton-class hydrogen bomb. So I'm going to need the latest superbomb technology.… Don't turn me down immediately, Mr. Rey Diaz. You can't turn me down, in fact. According to the principles of the Wallfacer Project, that technology isn't your proprietary property. Once it's been developed, I have the right to requisition it."

Rey Diaz glanced up at him. "My question is, do you intend to plagiarize my plan?"

Tyler smiled sardonically. "If a Wallfacer's plan can be copied, is he still a Wallfacer?"

"Mosquitoes can't fly very far," said Garanin, the PDC rotating chair. "These toy space fighters can only engage in combat within the orbit of Mars, I believe."

"Watch out. His next request might be for a space carrier," Hines said with a chuckle.

Tyler answered with aplomb. "That will be unnecessary. These space fighters can be networked to turn the entire squadron into a single entity, a mosquito group, that acts as a space carrier and is propelled by an external engine or by the engines of a small portion of its member fighters. At cruising speed, the group will possess the long-range space navigation capabilities of large spacecraft. Once it reaches the battlefield, the huge entity will disassemble and go into battle as a fleet of independent fighters."

"Your mosquito group will take years to reach the defensive zone at the perimeter of the Solar System. A fighter pilot can't spend such a long journey in a cockpit that doesn't even permit them to stand up. Will there even be room for supplies in such a small craft?" someone asked.

"Hibernation," Tyler said. "They'll have to hibernate. My plan relies on the realization of two technologies: miniaturized superbombs and miniaturized hibernation units."

"Hibernating for a few years in a metal coffin, then waking up, only to launch a suicide attack. Clearly, the job of a mosquito pilot is not one to be envied," Hines said.

Tyler's enthusiasm disappeared, and he remained silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "Yes. Finding pilots is the hardest part of the mosquito swarm plan."

Details of Tyler's plan were distributed to the members of the hearing, but there was no interest in discussion. The chair declared the hearing adjourned.

"Luo Ji still hasn't arrived?" asked the annoyed US representative.

"He won't be coming," said Garanin. "He declared that his seclusion and nonparticipation in the PDC hearing is part of his plan."

At this, the attendees whispered among themselves. Some of them seemed annoyed, while others flashed cryptic smiles.

"He's a deadbeat, a waste!" Rey Diaz said.

"Then what are you?" Tyler asked rudely, even though his mosquito swarm plan relied on Rey Diaz's super hydrogen bomb technology.

Hines said, "I'd rather express my regard for Dr. Luo. He knows himself and knows his own abilities, so he doesn't want a pointless waste of resources." He turned graciously to Rey Diaz. "I think Mr. Rey Diaz should learn something from him."

Everyone could see that Tyler and Hines were not defending Luo Ji, but that their enmity toward Rey Diaz was far deeper by comparison.

Garanin rapped the gavel on the table. "First of all, Wallfacer Rey Diaz has spoken out of order. I remind you to show respect to the other Wallfacers. Similarly, I remind Wallfacers Hines and Tyler that your words are also inappropriate for this meeting."

Hines said, "Mr. Chair, what Wallfacer Rey Diaz has demonstrated in his plan is nothing but the crudeness of a soldier. Following in the footsteps of Iran and North Korea, his country fell under UN sanctions because of its nuclear weapons program, and this has given him a twisted complex for the bomb. There is essentially no difference between Mr. Tyler's mosquito swarm program and Rey Diaz's giant hydrogen bomb plan. Both are disappointments. The two straightforward plans will have their strategic intent exposed right from the start. Neither exhibits the canniness that's the strategic advantage of the Wallfacer Project."

Tyler shot back, "Mr. Hines, your plan is like some sort of naïve daydream."

When the hearing ended, the Wallfacers went to the Meditation Room, their favorite place in UN Headquarters. It now seemed to them that this room designed for silence was built especially for Wallfacers. Gathered there, they waited in silence, each of them feeling that they would never be able to exchange thoughts until the final war came. The slab of iron ore lay silently in their midst, as if absorbing and collecting their thoughts and silently bearing witness.

Hines said softly, "Have you heard about the Wallbreakers?"

Tyler nodded. "The ETO just announced it on their public Web site, and it's been verified by the CIA."

The Wallfacers lapsed into silence again, each one conjuring in his mind an image of his own Wallbreaker. It was an image that would appear countless times in their nightmares, for the day a Wallbreaker actually appeared would likely spell the end of that Wallfacer.

* * *

When Shi Xiaoming saw his father enter, he edged toward the corner, but Shi Qiang simply sat down quietly next to him.

"Don't be afraid. I won't hit you or curse at you this time. I don't have the energy." He brought out a pack of cigarettes, took out two, and offered one to his son. Shi Xiaoming hesitated before accepting it. They lit up and smoked for a while in silence. Then Shi Qiang said, "I've got a mission. I'll be leaving the country soon."

"What about your illness?" Shi Xiaoming looked up through the smoke and gave his father a worried look.

"Let's talk about you first."

Shi Xiaoming's expression turned pleading. "Dad, there's going to be a heavy sentence for this—"

"Any other crime, and I'd be able to work it out for you, but that's not how this is going to work. Ming, we're both adults. We need to be responsible for our actions."

Shi Xiaoming bowed his head in despair and took a silent draw on his cigarette.

Shi Qiang said, "I'm half to blame. I never had any concern for you when you were growing up. I came home late every night, so tired I'd just have a drink and then go to bed. I never went to a parents' meeting at school, and I never had a good talk with you about anything.… It's the same thing again: We have to be responsible for our own actions."

Tears in his eyes, Shi Xiaoming ground the cigarette back and forth repeatedly on the edge of the bed, like he was extinguishing the latter half of his life.

"Prison is like a criminal training course. Forget about reform when you go in, just don't get mixed up with the other prisoners. And learn how to protect yourself a little. Take these—" Shi Qiang placed a plastic bag on the bed. Inside were two cartons of ordinary Yun Yan cigarettes. "And if you need anything else, your mother will send it to you."

Shi Qiang went to the door, then turned and said to his son, "Ming, you may still meet your dad again. You'll probably be older than me at that point, and then you'll understand what's in my heart right now."

Through the small window in the door, Shi Xiaoming watched his father exit the detention center. From the back, he looked quite old.