Cixin Liu - The Three-Body Problem

Lei turned to her and spoke solemnly. “Ye Wenjie, the evidence of your counter-revolutionary crime is incontrovertible, and the court would have punished you as you deserve. But now you have an opportunity to redeem yourself through hard work. You can accept it or refuse it.” He pointed at the antenna. “This is a defense research facility. The research conducted here needs your specialized scientific knowledge. Chief Engineer Yang can give you the details, which you should consider carefully.”

He nodded at Yang and then entered the gate after the soldiers carrying the trunks.

Yang waited until the others were gone and indicated that Ye should follow him a little distance away from the gate, clearly trying to avoid the sentries listening in.

He no longer pretended that he didn’t know her. “Wenjie, let me be clear. This is not some great opportunity. I learned from the military control commission at the court that although Cheng Lihua advocates sentencing you severely, the most that you’ll get is ten years. Considering mitigating circumstances, you’ll serve maybe six or seven years. But here”—he nodded in the direction of the base—“is a research project under the highest security classification. Given your status, if you enter the gate, it’s possible—” He paused, as though wanting to let the bass howl of the antenna add to the weight of his words. “—you’ll never leave for the rest of your life.”

“I want to go in.”

Yang was surprised by her quick answer. “Don’t be hasty. Get back onto the helicopter. It will take off in three hours, and if you refuse our offer, it will take you back.”

“I don’t want to go back. Let’s go in.” Ye’s voice remained soft, but there was a determination in her tone that was harder than steel. Other than the undiscovered country beyond death from which no one has ever returned, the place she wanted to be the most was this peak, separated from the rest of the world. Here, she felt a sense of security that had long eluded her.

“You should be cautious. Think through what this decision means.”

“I can stay here for the rest of my life.”

Yang lowered his head and said nothing. He stared into the distance, as though forcing Ye to sort through her thoughts. Ye stayed silent as well. She pulled her coat tightly around herself and gazed into the distance. There, the Greater Khingan Mountains were fading into the darkening night. It was impossible to stay out here much longer in the cold.

Yang began to walk toward the gate. He moved fast, as though trying to leave Ye behind. But Ye stayed close. After they entered the gate of Red Coast Base, the two sentries shut the heavy iron doors.

A little ways on, Yang stopped and pointed at the antenna. “This is a large-scale weapons research project. If it succeeds, the result will be even more important than the atomic bomb and the hydrogen bomb.”

They came to the largest building in the base, and Yang pushed the door open. Ye saw the words TRANSMISSION MAIN CONTROL ROOM over the door. Inside, warm air tinged with the smell of engine oil enveloped her. She saw that the spacious room was filled with all kinds of instruments and equipment. Signal lights and oscilloscope displays flickered together. A dozen or so operators dressed in military uniform were almost entombed by the rows of instruments, as though they were crouching inside battlefield trenches. The unceasing stream of operational orders and responses gave the whole scene a tense, confusing feel.

“It’s warmer in here,” Yang said. “Wait here a bit. I’ll take care of your living arrangements and return for you.” He pointed at a chair and desk next to the door.

Ye saw that someone was already sitting at the desk: a guard carrying a handgun.

“I’d rather wait outside,” Ye said.

Yang smiled at her kindly. “From now on, you’ll be a member of the base staff. Other than a few sensitive areas, you can go anywhere you want.” His face suddenly looked uncomfortable as he realized another layer of meaning to his words: You can never leave here again.

“I prefer to wait outside,” Ye insisted.

“All right.” Yang glanced at the guard at the desk, who paid no attention to them. He seemed to understand Ye’s concern and brought her back out of the main control room. “Stand somewhere out of the wind, and I’ll be back in a few minutes. I just need to get someone to start a fire in your room—conditions at the base are a bit rough, and we have no heating system.”

Ye stood next to the main control room door. The huge antenna was directly behind her and it blotted out half the sky. From here, she could clearly hear the sounds inside the main control room. Suddenly, the chaotic orders and responses ceased, and the room became completely quiet. All she could hear was the occasional low buzzing noise from some instrument.

Then a loud male voice broke the silence. “The People’s Liberation Army, Second Artillery Corps, [10] Translator’s Note: The Second Artillery Corps controls China’s nuclear missiles. Red Coast Project, one hundred and forty-seventh transmission. Authorization confirmed. Begin thirty-second countdown.”

“Target Classification: A-three. Coordinates’ serial number: BN20197F. Position checked and confirmed. Twenty-five seconds.”

“Transmission file number: twenty-two. Additions: none. Continuations: none. Transmission file final check completed. Twenty seconds.”

“Energy Unit reporting: all systems go.”

“Coding Unit reporting: all systems go.”

“Amplifier Unit reporting: all systems go.”

“Interference Monitoring Unit reporting: within acceptable range.”

“We have reached the point of no return. Fifteen seconds.”

Everything became quiet again. Fifteen seconds later, as a klaxon started to blare, a red light on top of the antenna began to blink rapidly.

“Begin transmission! All units continue to monitor!”

Ye felt a light itch on her face. She knew that an enormous electric field had appeared. She lifted her face and gazed in the direction the antenna was pointing and saw a cloud in the night sky glow with a dim blue light, so dim that at first she thought it an illusion. But as the cloud drifted away, the glow disappeared. Another cloud that drifted into position began to give off the same glow.

From the main control room, she heard more shouts.

“Malfunction with Energy Unit. Magnetron number three has burnt out.”

“Backup Unit is in operation: all systems go.”

“Checkpoint one reached. Resuming transmission.”

Ye heard a fluttering noise. Through the mist, she could see shadows lift out of the woods below the peak and spiral into the dark sky. She hadn’t realized so many birds could be roused from the woods in deep winter. Then she saw a terrifying scene: One flock of birds flew into the region of air the antenna pointed at, and against the background of the faintly glowing cloud, the birds dropped out of the sky.

The process continued for about fifteen minutes. Then the red light on the antenna went out, and the itch on her skin disappeared. From the main control room, the confusing murmur of orders and responses resumed even as the loud male voice continued.

“Transmission one hundred forty-seven of Red Coast completed. Transmission systems shutting down. Red Coast now entering monitoring state. System control is hereby transferred to the Monitoring Department. Please upload checkpoint data.”

“All units should fill out transmission diaries. All unit heads should attend the post-transmission meeting in the debriefing room. We’re done.”

All was silent except for the howl of the wind against the antenna. Ye watched as the remaining birds in the flock gradually settled back into the forest. She stared at the antenna and thought it looked like an enormous hand stretched open toward the sky, possessing an ethereal strength. As she surveyed the night sky, she did not see any target that she thought might be serial number BN20197F. Beyond the wisps of clouds, all she could see were the stars of a cold night in 1969.