“I know what it is. But you might as well ask.”
“Is Three Body only a game?”
The other players nodded. Clearly the question was also on their minds.
Pan stood up and said solemnly, “The world of Three Body, or Trisolaris, really does exist.”
“Where is it?” several players asked in unison.
After looking at each of them in turn, Pan sat down and spoke. “Some questions I can answer. Others I cannot. But if you are meant to be with Trisolaris, all your questions will be answered someday.”
“Then … does the game really portray Trisolaris accurately?” the reporter asked.
“First, the ability of Trisolarans to dehydrate through its many cycles of civilization is real. In order to adapt to the unpredictable natural environment and avoid extreme environmental conditions unsuitable for life, they can completely expel the water in their bodies and turn into dry, fibrous objects.”
“What do Trisolarans look like?”
Pan shook his head. “I don’t know. I really don’t. In every cycle of civilization, the appearance of Trisolarans is different. However, the game does portray something else that really existed on Trisolaris: the Trisolaran-formation computer.”
“Ha! I thought that was the most unrealistic aspect,” the software company vice president said. “I conducted a test with more than a hundred employees at my company. Even if the idea worked, a computer made of people would probably operate at a speed slower than manual computation.”
Pan gave a mysterious smile. “You’re right. But suppose that of the thirty million soldiers forming the computer, each one is capable of raising and lowering the black and white flags a hundred thousand times per second, and suppose also that the light cavalry soldiers on the main bus can run at several times the speed of sound, or even faster. Then the result would be very different.
“You asked about the appearance of the Trisolarans just now. According to some signs, the bodies of the Trisolarans who formed the computer were covered by a purely reflective surface, which probably evolved as a response to survival under extreme conditions of sunlight. The mirrorlike surface could be deformed into any shape, and they communicated with each other by focusing light with their bodies. This kind of light-speech could transmit information extremely rapidly and was the foundation of the Trisolaran-formation computer. Of course, this was still a very inefficient machine, but it was capable of completing calculations that were too difficult to be performed manually. The computer did in fact make its first appearance in Trisolaris as formations of people, before becoming mechanical and then electronic.”
Pan stood up and paced behind the players. “As a game, Three Body only borrows the background of human society to simulate the development of Trisolaris. This is done to give players a familiar environment. The real Trisolaris is very different from the world of the game, but the existence of the three suns is real. They’re the foundation of the Trisolaran environment.”
“Developing this game must have cost an enormous amount of effort,” the vice president said. “But the goal is clearly not profit.”
“The goal of Three Body is very simple and pure: to gather those of us who have common ideals,” Pan said.
“What ideals do we have in common, exactly?” Wang immediately regretted the question. He wondered whether asking it sounded hostile.
Pan studied everyone meaningfully, and then added in a soft voice, “How would you feel if Trisolaran civilization were to enter our world?”
“I would be happy.” The young reporter was the first to break the silence. “I’ve lost hope in the human race after what I’ve seen in recent years. Human society is incapable of self-improvement, and we need the intervention of an outside force.”
“I agree!” the author shouted. She was very excited, as though finally finding an outlet for pent-up feelings. “The human race is hideous. I’ve spent the first half of my life unveiling this ugliness with the scalpel of literature, but now I’m even sick of the work of dissection. I yearn for Trisolaran civilization to bring real beauty to this world.”
Pan said nothing. That glint of excitement appeared in his eyes again.
The old philosopher waved his pipe, which had gone out. He spoke with a serious mien. “Let’s discuss this question with a bit more depth: What is your impression of the Aztecs?”
“Dark and bloody,” the author said. “Blood-drenched pyramids lit by insidious fires seen through dark forests. Those are my impressions.”
The philosopher nodded. “Very good. Then try to imagine: If the Spanish Conquistadors did not intervene, what would have been the influence of that civilization on human history?”
“You’re calling black white and white black,” the software company vice president said. “The Conquistadors who invaded the Americas were nothing more than murderers and robbers.”
“Even so, at least they prevented the Aztecs from developing without bound, turning the Americas into a bloody, dark great empire. Then civilization as we know it wouldn’t have appeared in the Americas, and democracy wouldn’t have thrived until much later. Indeed, maybe they wouldn’t have appeared at all. This is the key to the question: No matter what the Trisolarans are like, their arrival will be good news for the terminally ill human race.”
“But have you thought through the fact that the Aztecs were completely destroyed by the Western invaders?” the power company executive asked. He looked around, as though seeing these people for the first time. “Your thoughts are very dangerous.”
“You mean profound!” the doctoral student said, raising a finger. He nodded vigorously at the philosopher. “I had the same thought, but I didn’t know how to express it. You said it so well!”
After a moment of silence, Pan turned to Wang. “The other six have all given their views. What about you?”
“I stand with them,” Wang said, pointing to the reporter and the philosopher. He kept his answer simple. The less said the better.
“Very good,” Pan said. He turned to the software company vice president and the power company executive. “The two of you are no longer welcome at this meet-up, and you are no longer appropriate players for Three Body. Your IDs will be deleted. Please leave now. Thank you.”
The two stood up and looked at each other; then glanced around, confused, and left.
Pan held out his hand to the remaining five, shaking each person’s hand in turn. Then he said, solemnly, “We are comrades now.”
19
Three Body: Einstein, the Pendulum Monument, and the Great Rip
The fifth time Wang Miao logged on to Three Body, it was dawn as usual, but the world was unrecognizable.
The great pyramid that had appeared the first four times had been destroyed by the tri-solar syzygy. In its place was a tall, modern building, whose dark gray shape was familiar to Wang: the United Nations Headquarters.
In the distance were many more tall buildings, apparently dehydratories. All had completely reflective mirror surfaces. In the dawn light they appeared as giant crystal plants growing out of the ground.
Wang heard a violin playing something by Mozart. The playing wasn’t very practiced, but there was a special charm to it, as though saying: I play for myself. The violinist was a homeless old man sitting on the steps in front of the UN Headquarters, his fluffy silver hair fluttering in the wind. Next to his feet was an old top hat containing some scattered change.
Wang suddenly noticed the sun. But it rose in the opposite direction from the dawn light, and the patch of the sky around it was still completely dark.
The sun was very large, its half-risen disk taking up a third of the horizon. Wang’s heart beat faster: Such a large sun could only mean another great catastrophe. But when Wang turned around, the old man continued to play as though nothing odd was happening. His silver hair shone brilliantly in the sun, as though it was on fire.
The sun was silvery, just like the old man’s hair. It cast a pale white
light over the ground, but Wang couldn’t feel any warmth from the light. He gazed at the sun, which had now completely risen. On the giant silver disk he could pick out lines like wood grains: mountain ranges.
Wang realized that the disk did not emit light. It only reflected the light from the real sun, which was on the other side of the sky, below the horizon. What had risen wasn’t a sun at all, but a giant moon. The giant moon moved briskly up the sky at a pace that could be detected by the naked eye. In the process, it gradually waned from a full to a half moon, and then a crescent. The old man’s soothing violin strains drifted on the cold morning breeze. The majestic sight of the universe was like the music made material. Wang was intoxicated.
The giant crescent now fell into the dawn light and grew much brighter. When only two glowing tips remained above the horizon, Wang imagined them as the tips of the horns of a titanic bull rushing toward the sun.
“Honored Copernicus, rest your busy feet here a while,” the old man said, after the giant moon had set. “Then after you’ve appreciated some Mozart, perhaps I can have some lunch.”
“If I’m not mistaken…” Wang looked at the face full of wrinkles. The wrinkles were long and their curves gentle, as though they were trying to create a kind of harmony.
“You’re not. I’m Einstein, a pitiful man full of faith in God, though abandoned by Him.”
“What is that giant moon? I’ve never seen it the previous times I was here.”
“It’s already cooled off.”
“What?”
“The big moon. When I was little it was still hot. When it rose to the middle of the sky, I could see the red glow from the central plains. But now it’s cold.… Haven’t you heard about the great rip?”
“No. What’s that?”
Einstein sighed and shook his head. “Let’s not speak of it. Forget the past. My past, civilization’s past, the universe’s past—all of it too painful to recall.”
“How did you get to be like this?” Wang searched in his pocket and found some change. He bent over and dropped the money into the hat.
“Thank you, Mr. Copernicus. Let’s hope that God doesn’t abandon you, though I don’t have much faith in that. I feel that the model you and Newton and the others created in the East with the help of the human-formation computer was very close to being correct. But the little bit of error left was like an uncrossable chasm for Newton and the others.
“I’ve always believed that without me, others would have discovered special relativity eventually. But general relativity is different. The bit that Newton lacked was the effect on planetary orbit from the gravitationally induced curvature of space-time described by general relativity. Though the error caused by it was small, its impact on the results of the computation was fatal. Adding the correction factor for perturbation from space-time curvature to the classical equations would yield the right mathematical model. The amount of computational power required far exceeds what you accomplished in the East, but is easily provided by modern computers.”
“Have the results of the computation been confirmed by astronomical observations?”
“If that had occurred, do you think I’d be here? But from the perspective of aesthetics, I must be right and the universe must be wrong. God abandoned me, then others abandoned me as well. I’m wanted nowhere. Princeton dismissed me as a professor. UNESCO wouldn’t even have me as a science consultant. Before, even if they had begged on their knees, I wouldn’t have wanted the position. I even thought of going to Israel to be president, but they changed their minds and said I was nothing but a fraud.…”
Einstein began playing again, picking up right where he had stopped. After listening to him for a while, Wang strode toward the UN building.
“There’s no one in there,” Einstein said, still playing. “All the members of the General Assembly session are behind the building attending the Pendulum Initiation Ceremony.”
Wang walked around the building and was greeted by a breathtaking sight: a colossal pendulum that seemed to stretch between the sky and the earth. In fact, Wang had seen it peeking out from behind the building, but he didn’t know what he was seeing.
The pendulum resembled those constructed by Fu Xi to hypnotize the sun god during the Warring States Period, back when Wang Miao first logged on to Three Body. But the pendulum before him had been completely modernized. The two pillars holding up the pendulum were made of metal, each as tall as the Eiffel Tower. The weight was also made of metal, streamlined, with a smooth, mirrorlike, electroplated surface. The pendulum line, made of some ultrastrong material, was so thin as to be almost invisible, and the weight seemed to float in the air between the two towers.
Below the pendulum was a crowd of people dressed in suits, probably the leaders of the various countries attending the General Assembly session. They gathered in small cliques and talked amongst themselves quietly, as though waiting for something.
“Ah, Copernicus, the man who crossed five eras!” someone shouted. The others welcomed him.
“You’re one of those who saw the pendulums of the Warring States Period with your own eyes!” A friendly man shook and held Wang’s hand. Someone introduced the man as the secretary general of the UN, from Africa.
“Yes, I did see them,” Wang said. “But why are we building another one now?”
“It’s a monument for Trisolaris, as well as a tombstone.” The secretary general looked up at the pendulum. From down here, it appeared as big as a submarine.
“A tombstone? For who?”
“For an aspiration, a striving that lasted through almost two hundred civilizations: the effort to solve the three-body problem, to find the pattern in the suns’ movements.”
“Is the effort over?”
“Yes. As of now, it’s completely over.”
Wang hesitated for a moment before taking out a stack of papers, Wei Cheng’s three-body mathematical model. “I … I came here for this. I brought a mathematical model that solves the three-body problem. I have reason to believe it will likely work.”
As soon as Wang said this, the crowd around him lost interest. They returned to their cliques to continue their conversations. He noticed that a few even shook their heads and laughed as they left him. The secretary general took the document and, without even glancing at it, handed it to a slender man wearing glasses standing next to him. “Out of respect for your famed reputation, I’ll have my science advisor take a look. Indeed, everyone here has shown you respect. If anyone else had said what you said, they’d be laughing at him.”
The science advisor flipped through the document. “Evolutionary algorithm? Copernicus, you’re a genius. Anyone who can come up with such an algorithm is a genius. This requires not only superior math skills, but also imagination.”
“You seem to be suggesting that someone has already created such a mathematical model?”
“Yes. There are dozens of other mathematical models. Of those, more than half are more advanced than yours. They’ve all been implemented and run on computers. During the past two centuries, such massive computation became the principal activity of this world. Everyone waited for the results as if waiting for Judgment Day.”
“And?”
“We have definitively proven that the three-body problem has no solution.”
Wang gazed up at the massive pendulum overhead. In the dawn light, it was crystal bright. Its deformed mirrorlike surface reflected everything around it like the eye of the world. In this place, in a distant age separated from the here and now by many civilizations, he and King Wen had passed through a forest of giant pendulums on their way to the palace of King Zhou. Just like that, history had made a long circuit and returned to its starting place.
The science advisor said, “It’s just like we guessed long ago: The three-body system is a chaotic system. Tiny perturbations can be endlessly amplified. Its patterns of movement essentially cannot be mathematically predicted.”
Wang felt his scientific knowl
edge and system of thought become a blur in a single moment. In their place was unprecedented confusion. “If even an extremely simple arrangement like the three-body system is unpredictable chaos, how can we have any faith in discovering the laws of the complicated universe?”
“God is a shameless old gambler. He has abandoned us!” The speaker was Einstein, waving his violin. Wang didn’t know when he had shown up.
The secretary general slowly nodded. “Yes, God is a gambler. The only hope for Trisolaran civilization is to gamble as well.”
By now, the giant moon was rising again from the dark side of the horizon. Its large, silvery image was reflected by the surface of the pendulum weight. The light wriggled strangely, as though the weight and the moon had developed a mysterious sympathy together.
“This civilization seems to have developed to a very advanced state,” Wang said.
“Yes. We’ve mastered the energy of the atom and reached the Information Age.” The secretary general didn’t seem to be too impressed by his own words.
“Then there is hope: Even if it’s impossible to know the pattern of the suns’ movements, civilization can continue to develop until it reaches a stage where it can survive the Chaotic Eras by protecting itself against the devastating catastrophes of those eras.”
“People once thought as you do. That was one of the motivating forces pushing Trisolaran civilization to tenaciously come back again and again. But the moon made us realize the naïveté of such an idea.” The secretary general pointed to the rising giant moon. “This is probably the first time you’ve seen this moon. Actually, since it’s about a quarter of the size of our planet, it’s no longer a moon, but a companion to our world in a double planet system. It resulted from the great rip.”
“The great rip?”
“The disaster that destroyed the last civilization. Compared to the civilizations before it, they had ample warning of the disaster. Based on surviving records, the astronomers of Civilization 191 detected a frozen flying star early on.”