by Cixin Liu
The classic examples of Crisis Infantilism were the Wallfacer Project and the Stars Our Destination Project, both international efforts within the framework of the United Nations—initiatives that soon became incomprehensible to anyone from outside that period. The Wallfacer Project changed history, and its influence so permeated the course of civilization that it must be discussed in another chapter. The same elements that led to the birth of the grand Wallfacer Project simultaneously conceived the Stars Our Destination Project. That project, on the other hand, quickly faded away after launch and was never heard from again.
There were two main motivations for the Stars Our Destination Project: first, to increase the power of the UN at the beginning of the Crisis; second, the genesis and popularity of Escapism.
The Trisolar Crisis was the first time that all of humanity faced a common enemy, and it was only natural that many placed their hopes in the UN. Even conservatives agreed that the UN ought to be completely reformed and given more power and more resources. Radicals and idealists pushed for an Earth Union and for making the UN into a world government.
Smaller countries, in particular, favored elevating the status of the UN because they saw the Crisis as an opportunity to get more technological and economic aid. The great powers, on the other hand, responded to this coolly. In actuality, the great powers all invested heavily in space defense after the Crisis. In part, this was because they realized that contribution to space defense would become the foundation for national strength and political status in future international relations; it was also because they had always wanted to invest in such large-scale basic research, but the domestic demands of their citizenry and constraints imposed by international politics had made such efforts impractical in the past. In a sense, the Trisolar Crisis provided the leaders of the great powers with an opportunity similar to the opportunity given to Kennedy by the Cold War—similar, but a couple of orders of magnitude greater. While all the great powers were reluctant to place their efforts under the aegis of the United Nations, due to the rising tide of calls for true globalization, they were forced to cede to the UN some symbolic, political commitments that they had no intention of honoring. The common space defense system advocated by the UN, for example, received little substantive support from the great powers.
In the history of the early Crisis Era, UN Secretary General Say was a key figure. She believed that the time for a new UN had arrived and advocated transforming the institution from what was little more than a meeting place for the great powers and an international forum, into an independent political body with the power to genuinely direct the construction of the Solar System’s defenses.
To achieve this goal, the UN needed sufficient resources, a requirement that appeared impossible to meet given the realities of international relations. The Stars Our Destination Project was an attempt by Say to acquire such resources for the UN. No matter the results, the very attempt was a testament to her political intelligence and imagination.
The basis for the project lay in the Space Convention, which was a product of pre-Crisis politics. Based on the principles enacted in the Law of the Sea Convention and the Antarctic Treaty, the Space Convention was negotiated and drafted over a long period of time. But the pre-Crisis Space Convention was limited to resources within the Kuiper Belt; the Trisolar Crisis forced the nations of the world to set their sights farther out.
Since humans had not even been able to set foot on Mars, any discussion of outer space was meaningless, at least prior to the expiration date of the Space Convention fifty years after it was drafted. But the great powers viewed the Convention as the perfect venue for political theater and amended it with provisions regarding resources outside the Solar System. The amendment provided that the development of natural resources outside the Kuiper Belt, and other economic activities regarding them, had to take place under the auspices of the United Nations. The amendment went into excruciating detail to define “natural resources,” but, basically, the phrase referred to resources not already occupied by nonhuman civilizations. This treaty also offered the first international law definition for “civilization.” Historically, this document was referred to as the Crisis Amendment.
The second motivation for the Stars Our Destination Project was Escapism. At the time, the Escapist movement was still in its early stages, and its consequences were not yet apparent, such that many still considered it a valid choice for humanity in crisis. Under such conditions, other stars, especially stars with their own planets, became valuable.
The initial resolution proposing the Stars Our Destination Project would have the UN auction off the rights to certain stars and their planets. The intended bidders were states, businesses, NGOs, and individuals, and the proceeds from the auction would be used to fund the UN’s basic research into a Solar System defense system. Secretary General Say explained that the universe had an abundance of stars. There were more than three hundred thousand stars within one hundred light-years of the Solar System, and more than ten million within one thousand light-years. A conservative estimate suggested that at least one-tenth of these stars had planets. Auctioning off a small proportion of these would not affect the future of space development much.
This unusual UN resolution attracted wide interest and attention. The permanent members of the Planetary Defense Council (PDC) mulled it over, but each decided that adopting it would not lead to adverse consequences in the foreseeable future. On the other hand, voting against it would incur a heavy cost under the prevailing international political climate. Still, debates and compromises followed, and the final version of the resolution that passed was limited to stars more than one hundred light-years away.
The project was halted almost as soon as it began for a simple reason: No one bought the stars. In total, only seventeen stars were auctioned off, and all at the minimum reserve price. The UN earned a grand total of only about forty million dollars.
None of the winning bidders ever revealed themselves. People speculated on why they spent so much money to buy a piece of useless paper—even if the paper was supposed to be a binding legal instrument. Maybe it felt cool to own another world, but what was the point when you could see but not touch it? Indeed, some of the stars were not even visible with the naked eye.
Say never thought of the project as a failure. She claimed that the results were just as she predicted. Fundamentally, the Stars Our Destination Project was a political proclamation by the UN.
The Stars Our Destination Project was quickly forgotten. It was a classic example of the irregular behavior of human society at the beginning of the Crisis.
Crisis Era, Year 4 Yun Tianming
The day after making his decision to buy Cheng Xin a star, Yun Tianming called the number listed on the website for the Chinese office of the Stars Our Destination Project.
Then he called Hu Wen to get some basic information about Cheng Xin: contact address, national ID number, and so forth. He was prepared for any number of reactions from Wen in response to his request—sarcasm, pity, exclamation. Instead, after a long silence, all he heard was a soft sigh.
“No problem,” Wen said. “But she’s probably not in China right now.”
“Just don’t tell her I’m the one asking.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t ask her directly.”
The next day, Tianming got a text from Wen with all the information he had asked for, but nothing about Cheng Xin’s employment. Wen explained that no one knew where Cheng Xin had gone after she left the Academy of Spaceflight Technology last year. Tianming saw that there were two mailing addresses for her: one in Shanghai and another in New York.
That afternoon, Tianming asked Dr. Zhang to give him permission to leave the hospital and run an errand. The doctor wanted to come with Tianming, but he insisted on going alone.
Tianming took a taxi and arrived at UNESCO’s Beijing office. After the Crisis, every UN office in Beijing had expanded rapidly, and UNESCO now took up most of an office
building outside of the Fourth Ring Road.
A giant star map greeted Tianming as he entered the spacious office of the Stars Our Destination Project. Silver lines connected the stars in constellations against a pitch-black background. Tianming saw that the map was displayed on a high-definition screen, and a computer nearby allowed for zooming and searching. The office was empty except for a receptionist.
Tianming introduced himself, and the receptionist excitedly went away and returned with a blond woman.
“This is the director of UNESCO Beijing,” the receptionist explained. “And also one of the people responsible for implementing the Stars Our Destination Project in the Asia-Pacific region.”
The director appeared very pleased to see Tianming as well. She held Tianming’s hand and told him, in fluent Chinese, that he was the first Chinese individual to express an interest in buying a star. She would have preferred a ceremony to generate as much media coverage as possible, but she refrained out of respect for his wish for privacy. She seemed quite sorry to lose out on a wonderful opportunity to publicize the project.
Don’t worry, Tianming thought. No other Chinese will be as dumb as me.
A middle-aged, well-dressed man wearing glasses came in. The director introduced him as Dr. He, a researcher at the Beijing Observatory. The astronomer would help Tianming with the details of his purchase. After the director left, Dr. He asked Tianming to sit down, and called for tea to be served.
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked Tianming.
Tianming knew that he didn’t exactly look healthy. But after stopping chemo—which had been like undergoing torture—he felt much better, almost as if he’d gotten a new lease on life. Ignoring Dr. He’s question, he repeated the request he had already made on the phone.
“I want to buy a star as a gift. The title to the star should be registered under the name of the recipient. I won’t provide any personal information about myself, and I want my identity kept secret from her.”
“No problem at all. Do you have an idea of what kind of star you want to buy?”
“As close to Earth as possible. One with planets. Ideally, Earthlike planets,” Tianming said as he gazed at the star map.
Dr. He shook his head. “Based on the figure you gave me, that’s impossible. The starting prices for stars meeting those criteria are much too high. You can only buy a star without planets, and it won’t be very close. Let me tell you something: The amount of money you are offering is too low even for bare stars. But after your call yesterday, in consideration of the fact that you’re the first person in China to express an interest, we decided to lower the starting bid on one of the stars to what you offered.” He moved the mouse to magnify a region of the star map. “It’s this one. Say yes and it’s yours.”
“How far away is it?”
“It’s about two hundred eighty-six point five light-years from here.”
“That’s too far.”
Dr. He laughed. “I can tell you’re not completely ignorant about astronomy. Think about it: Does it really make a difference if it’s two hundred eighty-six light-years or two hundred eighty-six billion light-years?”
Tianming thought about it. The astronomer was right. It made no difference.
“There’s a very big advantage to this star,” Dr. He said. “It’s visible with the naked eye. In my opinion, aesthetics matters the most when you’re buying a star. It’s much better to possess a faraway star that you can see than a nearby star that you can’t. It’s much better to own a bare star that you can see than a star with planets that you can’t. In the end, all we can do is look at it. Am I right?”
Tianming nodded. Cheng Xin can see the star. That’s good.
“What’s it called?”
“The star was first cataloged by Tycho Brahe hundreds of years ago, but it never acquired a common name. All it has is a number.” Dr. He moved the mouse pointer over the glowing dot, and a string of letters and numbers appeared next to it: DX3906. Then, patiently, the astronomer explained to Tianming the meaning of the numbers and letters, the star’s type, absolute and apparent magnitudes, location in the main sequence, and so on.
The paperwork for the purchase didn’t take long. Two notaries worked with Dr. He to make sure everything was proper. Then the director appeared again, along with two officials from the UN Development Program and the UN Committee on Natural Resources. The receptionist brought a bottle of champagne and everyone celebrated.
The director declared that the title to DX3906 was now vested in Cheng Xin, and she presented Tianming with an expensive-looking black leather folder.
“Your star.”
After the officials left, Dr. He turned to Tianming. “Don’t answer me if you aren’t comfortable, but I’m guessing you bought the star for a girl?”
Tianming hesitated for a moment, but then nodded.
“Lucky girl!” Dr. He sighed. “It’s nice to be rich.”
“Oh, please!” said the receptionist. She stuck her tongue out at Dr. He. “Rich? Even if you had thirty billion yuan, would you buy a star for your girlfriend? Ha! I haven’t forgotten what you said two days ago.”
Dr. He looked rather embarrassed. In fact, he was worried that she was going to blurt out his opinion of the Stars Our Destination Project: This trick the UN is pulling was already tried by a bunch of scammers more than ten years ago. Back then they sold land on the moon and Mars. It would be a miracle if anyone falls for it again!
Fortunately, the receptionist went on in a different vein. “This isn’t just about money. It’s about romance. Romance! Do you even understand?”
Throughout Tianming’s purchasing process, the young woman had stolen glances at him from time to time, as though he were a figure from a fairy tale. Her expression had at first been curious, then awed and admiring. Finally, as the leather folder containing the deed to the star was handed over, her face filled with envy.
Dr. He tried to change the subject. “We’ll send the formal documents to the recipient as soon as possible. Based on your instructions, we won’t reveal any information about you. Well, even if we wanted to, we can’t—look, I don’t even know your name!” He stood up and looked out the window. It was already dark. “Next, I can bring you to see your star—sorry, I meant the star you bought for her.”
“Can we see it from the top of the building?”
“No. There’s too much light pollution inside the city. We have to go far into the suburbs. If you aren’t feeling well, we can pick another day.”
“Let’s go now. I really want to see it.”
They drove for more than two hours, until the glowing sea that was Beijing was far behind them. To avoid the lamps of passing cars, Dr. He drove off the road into a field. Then he turned off the headlights and they got out of the car. In the late-autumn sky, the stars were especially bright.
“You see the Big Dipper? Imagine a diagonal across the quadrilateral formed by the four stars, and extend it. That’s right, in that direction. Can you see those three stars that form a flat triangle? Draw a line from the apex, perpendicular to the base, and keep extending it. Can you see it? Right there. That’s your star—the star you gave her.”
Tianming pointed to two stars in succession, but Dr. He said neither was right. “It’s between those two, but a bit to the south. The apparent magnitude is five point five. Normally, you have to be trained to find it. But the weather tonight is ideal, so you should be able to see it. Try this: Don’t look for it directly; move your gaze a bit to the side. Your peripheral vision tends to be more sensitive to faint light. After you find it, then you can move your gaze back....”
With Dr. He’s help, Tianming finally saw DX3906. It was very faint, and he had to find it again it each time his attention wavered. Although people commonly thought of the stars as silvery, careful observation revealed that they each had different colors. DX3906 was dark red.
Dr. He promised to give him some materials to help Tianming find the star in different
seasons. “You are lucky, as lucky as the girl who received your gift,” said Dr. He.
“I don’t think I’d call myself fortunate. I’m about to die.”
Dr. He seemed unsurprised by this revelation. He lit a cigarette and smoked it in silence. After a while, he said, “Even so, I think you’re blessed. Most people don’t cast a glance at the universe beyond the world we live in until the day they die.”
Tianming looked at Dr. He for a moment, then he looked back into the sky and found DX3906 easily. The smoke from Dr. He’s cigarette drifted before his eyes, and the faint star flickered through the veil. By the time she sees it, I’ll be gone from this world.
Of course, the star he saw and the star she would see were only an image from 286 years ago. The faint beam of light had to cross three centuries to meet their retinas. Another 286 years would have to pass before the light from the star at this moment would reach the Earth. By then, Cheng Xin would long have turned to dust.
What will her life be like? Maybe she’ll remember that in the sea of stars, there’s one that belongs to her.
This would be Tianming’s last day.
He wanted to note something special about it, but there was nothing. He woke up at seven, as usual; a shaft of sunlight fell against its habitual spot on the wall; the weather was not great, but also not too bad; the sky was the same grayish blue; the oak tree in front of the window was bare (instead of, say, hanging on to a lone, symbolic leaf ). Even his breakfast was the same.