Cixin Liu - The Three-Body Problem

“Many of those retirees were my colleagues back at the university, but somehow I just can’t mix with them. Everyone likes to reminisce, but no one wants to listen, and everyone feels annoyed when someone else tells a story. You’re the only one who’s interested in Red Coast.”

“But for you to tell me about those things… isn’t that prohibited?”

“That’s true—it’s still classified. But after that book was published, many others who were there also began to tell their stories, so they’re like open secrets. The person who wrote that book was very irresponsible. Even if we put aside his agenda, the content of that book was often inaccurate. I should at least correct those errors.”

Then Ye Wenjie began to tell Wang about what happened to her during her years at Red Coast.

Ye wasn’t given a real job immediately after entering Red Coast Base. Under the watchful eyes of a security guard, she was only allowed to perform a few technical tasks.

Back when she was still a second-year in college, Ye had already known the professor who would end up being her thesis advisor. He had told Ye that to do astrophysics research, it was useless to excel at theory without knowledge of experimental methods and observational skills—at least, that was true in China. This was very different from her father’s view, but Ye tended to agree with her professor. She had always felt that her father was too theoretical.

Her advisor was one of the pioneers of Chinese radio astronomy. Under his influence, Ye developed a great interest in radio astronomy as well. Thus, she taught herself electrical engineering and computer science, the foundation for experiments and observations in the field. During the two years when she was a graduate student, the two of them had tested China’s first small-scale radio telescope and had accumulated a great deal of experience in the area.

She hadn’t expected the knowledge would one day be useful at Red Coast Base.

Eventually, Ye was assigned to the Transmission Department to maintain and repair equipment. She quickly became an indispensable part of their operations.

Initially, this confused her a bit. She was the only person at the base who wasn’t in a military uniform. And given her political status, everyone kept their distance. She had no way to ward off the loneliness other than devoting herself to work. However, this wasn’t enough to explain why they relied on her so much. This was, after all, a key defense project. How could the technical staff here be so mediocre that she, who had not majored in engineering and who had no real working experience, easily took over their jobs?

She learned the reason soon enough. Contrary to appearances, the base’s staff was composed of the best technical officers from the Second Artillery Corps. She could study all her life and have no hope of catching up to those excellent electrical and computer engineers. But the base was remote, the conditions were poor, and the main research work of the Red Coast Project was already completed. All that was left was maintenance and operation, so there was little opportunity for achieving any interesting technical results. Most people did not want to be indispensable, because they understood that in highly classified projects like this, once someone was put into a core technical position, it would be very difficult for him to be transferred out. Thus, all of them tried to deliberately hide their technical competence as they went about their jobs.

Yet, they couldn’t appear too incompetent. So if the supervisor said to go east, they would work hard to move west, purposely playing the fool. Their hope was to put the following thought into the supervisor’s head: This man is working hard, but he’s limited in his skills. There’s no point in keeping him, because he’ll only get in the way. Many really did successfully obtain transfers through this method.

Under such conditions, Ye gradually became a key technician at the base. But the other reason that she could achieve this position puzzled her, and for that she could find no explanation: Red Coast Base—at least the parts that she had contact with—had no real advanced technology at all.

Over time, as Ye continued to work at the Transmission Department, the restrictions on her were gradually relaxed, and even the security guard assigned to watch her was called off. She was allowed to touch most components of Red Coast’s systems, and could read the relevant technical documents. Of course, there were still areas forbidden to her. For example, she wasn’t allowed near the computer control systems. However, Ye discovered that the impact of those systems on Red Coast was far smaller than she had imagined. For instance, the Transmission Department’s computers consisted of three machines even more primitive than DJS130. [24] Translator’s Note: This was a Chinese 16-bit minicomputer modeled on the American Data General Nova. They used cumbersome magnetic core memory and paper input tape, and their longest uptime did not exceed fifteen hours. She also saw that the precision of Red Coast’s targeting system was very low, probably not even on par with that of an artillery cannon.

One day, Commissar Lei came to speak with Ye. By this time, Yang Weining and Lei Zhicheng had swapped places in her eyes. During those years, Yang, as the highest-ranked technical officer, did not enjoy a high political status, and outside of technical matters he had little authority. He had to be careful with his subordinates, and had to speak politely even to the sentries, lest he be deemed to have an intellectual’s resistant attitude toward thought reform and collaboration with the masses. Thus, whenever he encountered difficulties in his work, Ye became his punching bag. But as Ye gained importance as a technical staff member, Commissar Lei gradually shed his initial rudeness and coldness and became kind toward her.

Commissar Lei said, “Wenjie, by now you’re pretty familiar with the transmission system. This is also Red Coast’s offensive component, its principal part. Can you give me your views of the system as a whole?”

They were sitting at the lip of the steep cliff on Radar Peak, the most secluded spot on the base. The cliff seemed to drop straight off into a bottomless abyss. At first, the spot had frightened Ye, but now she liked to come here by herself.

Ye wasn’t sure how to answer Commissar Lei’s question. She was only responsible for maintaining and repairing equipment and knew nothing about Red Coast as a whole, including its operation, targets, and so on. Indeed, she wasn’t allowed to know. She wasn’t even permitted to be present at the transmission. She pondered the question, began to speak, and stopped herself.

“Go ahead, speak your mind,” Commissar Lei said. He ripped out a blade of grass next to him and played with it absent-mindedly.

“It… is just a radio transmitter.”

“That’s right, just a radio transmitter.” The commissar nodded, satisfied. “Do you know about microwave ovens?”

Ye shook her head.

“They are a luxury plaything of the capitalist West. Food is heated by the energy generated from absorbing microwave radiation. At my previous research station, in order to precisely test the high-temperature aging of certain components, we imported one. After work, we would use it to warm mantou bread, bake a potato, that sort of thing. It’s very interesting: The inside heats up first while the outside remains cold.”

Commissar Lei stood up and paced back and forth. He was so close to the edge of the cliff that it made Ye nervous.

“Red Coast is a microwave oven, and its heating targets are the enemy’s space vessels. If we can apply microwave radiation at a specific power level of one-tenth of a watt to one watt per square centimeter, we’ll be able to disable or destroy many electronic components of satellite communications, radar, and navigation systems.”