As daylight brightened, the stars went out one by one like the gradual shutting of innumerable eyes, even as the morning sky slowly opened in the east like a single giant eye. The ant continued its climb, threading the maze of Ye Wenjie’s name on her gravestone. Its species had been living on the Earth a hundred million years before the emergence of this gambler who now leaned on the stone. Even though it had no care for what was now happening, it held a stake in the world.
Luo Ji left the gravestones and stood beside the pit he had dug for himself. He placed the tip of the pistol to his heart and said, “Now, I’m going to stop the beating of my heart. By doing so, I will be committing the greatest crime in the history of our two worlds. I express my deepest apologies to our two civilizations for the crime that I commit, but I have no regrets, because this is the only option. I know the sophons are nearby, but you have ignored humanity’s call. Silence is the greatest form of contempt, and we have put up with this contempt for two centuries. Now, if you wish, you can continue to remain silent. I will give you thirty seconds.”
He marked time according to his pulse, counting two beats to a second since his heart was beating so rapidly, but in his heightened anxiety he started off wrong and had to begin again. So he wasn’t certain how much time had passed by the time the sophons appeared. Possibly less than ten seconds in objective time, but subjectively, it took a lifetime. He saw the world before his eyes split into four parts: one part made up of the real world that surrounded him; the other three, deformed images in three spheres that appeared suddenly overhead, whose mirror surfaces were exactly like the gravestones he had seen in his last dream. He didn’t know which of the sophons’ dimensional unfoldings this was, but the three spheres were big enough to cover half the sky above him, blocking out the brightening light in the east. In the spheres’ reflection of the western sky, he could see a few lingering stars, and the bottom of the spheres reflected a deformed graveyard and his own image. What he most wanted to know was why there were three of them. His first thought was that they symbolized Trisolaris, just like the work of art that Ye Wenjie had seen at the final ETO gathering. But looking at what the spheres reflected—an uncommonly clear, albeit deformed, picture of reality—he had the sense that they were entrances to three parallel worlds, implying three possible choices.
But what he saw next negated this notion, because the three spheres flashed the same word:
Stop!
“Can I discuss terms?” Luo Ji asked, looking up at the three spheres.
First put down the gun, and then we can discuss terms.
The words displayed simultaneously on the spheres in letters that glowed a striking red. He saw no deformation in the line of text. It was straight, and seemed as if it was both on the surface of and within the spheres. He reminded himself that he was looking at a projection of higher-dimensional space into a three-dimensional world.
“This is not a negotiation. These are my demands, if I am to go on living. All I wish to know is whether or not you accept.”
State your demands.
“Have the droplet, or rather the probe, cease its transmissions toward the sun.”
It has been done as you ask.
The spheres’ answer was faster than he anticipated. He had no way to verify it at the moment, but he sensed subtle changes in his surroundings, as if a background noise whose continued existence meant it had escaped notice, had disappeared. Of course, this could be an illusion, since humans don’t sense electromagnetic radiation.
“Have the nine droplets en route to the Solar System change course immediately and fly away.”
This time the answer from the three spheres was delayed by a few seconds.
It has been done as you ask.
“Please give humanity the means to verify this.”
The nine probes will emit visible light. Your Ringier-Fitzroy Telescope will be able to detect them.
This was still impossible for him to verify, but he believed Trisolaris.
“The final condition: the Trisolaran Fleet may not cross the Oort Cloud.”
The fleet is now under propulsion power for maximum deceleration. It is impossible for it to bring its speed relative to the sun to zero before reaching the Oort Cloud.
“Then, like the droplet group, set a course away from the Solar System.”
Changing course in any direction is death. This will cause the fleet to fly by the Solar System and into the desolation of space. The fleet’s life-support system will not last long enough to return to Trisolaris or search for another viable star system.
“Death isn’t a certainty. Perhaps human or Trisolaran ships can catch up and rescue them.”
This will require a command from the High Consul.
“If changing course is a lengthy process, get started on it now. That will give me and all the other lives a chance to live on.”
The period of silence lasted for three minutes. Then:
The fleet will begin to change course in ten Earth minutes. Two years from now, human space observation systems will be able to observe the change of heading.
“Good,” Luo Ji said, as he removed the pistol from his chest. With his other hand he leaned on the gravestone, trying not to fall. “Were you already aware that the universe is a dark forest?”
Yes. We knew about it long ago. What’s strange is that you only realized it so late…. Your state of health concerns us. This won’t unintentionally interrupt the cradle system’s maintenance signal, will it?
“No. This device is far more advanced than Rey Diaz’s. So long as I am alive, the signal won’t be interrupted.”
You really should sit down. That will help with your situation.
“Thank you,” Luo Ji said, and he sat down against the headstone. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to die.”
We are in contact with the highest levels of the two Internationals. Do you need us to call you an ambulance?
He smiled and shook his head. “No. I’m not a savior. I just want to leave here like an ordinary person and go home. I’ll rest for a bit and then be on my way.”
Two of the three spheres disappeared. The text on the one that remained, which no longer glowed, now seemed dim and dreary.
In the end, strategy was where we failed.
Luo Ji nodded. “Blocking the sun with dust clouds to send an interstellar message wasn’t my invention. Twentieth-century astronomers had already proposed the idea. And you actually had multiple chances to see through me. During the duration of the Snow Project, for example, I was always concerned with the precise placement of the bombs in solar orbit.”