In point of fact, the primary reason the Earth and Fleet Internationals decided to send a human to the probe was not for an inspection. When the world saw the probe for the first time, everyone was captivated by its magnificent exterior. The mercury droplet was just so beautiful, so simple in shape yet masterfully styled, with each point on its surface in exactly the right place. It was imbued with a graceful dynamism, as if at every moment it was dripping endlessly in the cosmic night. It inspired the feeling that even if human artists tried out every possible smooth closed shape, they wouldn’t come up with this one. It transcended every possibility. Not even in Plato’s Republic was there such a perfect shape: straighter than the straightest line, more circular than a perfect circle, a mirrored dolphin leaping out of the sea of dreams, a crystallization of all the love in the universe…. Beauty is always paired with good, so if there really existed a demarcation between good and evil in the universe, this object would fall on the good side.
So a hypothesis was quickly worked out: The object might not even be a probe. Further observation confirmed this hypothesis, to an extent. People first noticed its exterior, the highly smooth finish that made it a total reflector. The fleet conducted an experiment on the probe using a large quantity of monitoring equipment: Its entire surface was irradiated with different wavelengths of high-frequency electromagnetic waves, and the reflectance was measured. To their shock, they discovered that at every frequency, including visible light, the reflection was practically 100 percent. No absorption was detected. This meant that the probe could not detect any high-frequency waves—or, in layman’s terms, it was blind. There must be a particular significance to a blind design. The most reasonable guess was that it was a token of goodwill from Trisolaris to humanity, expressed through its nonfunctional design and beautiful form. A sincere desire for peace.
So the probe was given a new name inspired by its shape: “the droplet.” On both Earth and Trisolaris, water was the source of life and a symbol of peace.
Public opinion maintained that a formal delegation ought to be sent to make contact with the droplet, rather than an expedition team made up of a physicist and three ordinary officers. But after careful consideration, Fleet International decided to keep its original plan unchanged.
“Can’t you at least swap in someone else? Letting this young lady…” Ding Yi said, gesturing at Xizi.
Xizi smiled at him and said, “Master Ding, I am Quantum’s science officer. I’m in charge of off-ship scientific expeditions during our voyages. This is my duty.”
“And women make up half the fleet,” the captain said. “Three people will accompany you. The other two are science officers sent by the European and North American Fleets. They’ll be reporting shortly. Master Ding, let me reiterate one point: According to the decision of the SFJC, you must be the first to make direct contact with the target. Only then are they permitted to make contact.”
“Pointless.” Ding Yi shook his head again. “Humanity hasn’t changed at all. So eager to chase after vanity…. But, rest assured, I’ll do as you wish. I just want to have a look, is all. What I’m really interested in is the theory behind this super-technology. But I’m afraid that this life is… ah.”
The captain floated over to him and said with concern, “Master Ding, you can go rest now. The intercept will be starting soon, and you need to preserve your energy before setting off on your expedition.”
Ding Yi looked up at the captain. For a moment he didn’t realize that the meeting was going to continue after he left. Then he looked back at the image of the droplet, noticing now how its round head reflected a regular row of lights that gradually deformed toward the rear, merging into the reflected pattern of the Milky Way. That was the fleet. He looked again at Quantum’s commanders floating before him, all of them so very young. Just children. They looked so noble and perfect, from the captain to the lieutenants, and their eyes shone with a godlike wisdom. The light of the fleet streaming in through the portholes was tinted like a golden sunset by the auto-darkening glass, enveloping them all in gold. Behind them floated the image of the droplet like a supernatural silver symbol, making the place otherworldly and transcendent, and turning them into a host of gods atop Mount Olympus…. Something stirred deep within him, and he grew excited.
“Master Ding, do you have something else to add?” the captain asked.
“Er, I’d like to say…” His hands moved aimlessly, and he let his pipe float in the air. “I’d like to say that you kids have been great to me over the past few days….”
“You’re the man we admire the most of all,” a vice-captain said.
“Oh… so there are a few things I’d really like to say. Just… the nonsense of an old fool. You don’t have to take it seriously. Still, children, as someone who’s crossed two centuries, I’ve been through a bit more than you…. Of course, like I said, don’t take it seriously….”
“Master Ding, if you’ve got something to say, then just say it. You really have our highest respect.”
Ding Yi slowly nodded. Then he pointed upward. “If this spaceship has to go to maximum acceleration, everyone here will need to… be immersed in a liquid.”
“That’s right. Deep-sea state.”
“Yes, right. The deep-sea state.” Ding Yi hesitated again, and ruminated for a moment before resolving to go on. “When we go out for our examination, could this ship, ah, Quantum, be put into a deep-sea state?”
The officers looked at each other in surprise, and the captain said, “Why?”
Ding Yi’s hands began fluttering again. His hair glowed white under the fleet’s light. Like someone had noticed when he first came aboard, he looked quite a bit like Einstein. “Um… well, at any rate there’s no harm in doing it, right? You know, I don’t have a good feeling.”
After saying this, he remained silent, his eyes locked onto the infinite distance. At last he reached out, plucked the pipe out of the air, and put it into his pocket. Without saying good-bye, he awkwardly worked his superconductor belt to float toward the door as the officers watched him.
When he was halfway out, he slowly turned back around. “Children, do you know what I’ve been doing all these years? Teaching physics at a university and advising doctoral students.” As he looked out at the galaxy, an inscrutable smile played on his face—tinted with, the officers noticed, a hint of sadness. “Children, a man from two centuries ago is still able to teach university physics today.” With that, he turned and left.
The captain wanted to say something to him, but now that he was gone, the words didn’t come out. He remained deep in thought. Some of the officers looked at the droplet, but more of them turned their attention to the captain.
“Captain, you’re not going to take him seriously, are you?” one lieutenant asked.
“He’s a wise scientist, but he’s still an ancient man. Their thoughts about modern things are always…” someone else added.
“But in his field, humanity hasn’t made any progress. It’s still stuck at his era’s level.”
“He spoke of intuition. I think his intuition may have discovered something,” an officer said, in a voice full of awe.
“Also…” Xizi blurted out. But looking at the surrounding officers who outranked her, she swallowed the rest of her words.
“Major, please continue,” the captain said.