Chapter 503: The Chain of Suspicion! The Technological Big Bang! The Dagger Revealed!
---
"Now let's define something between civilizations: goodwill and hostility. To be clear, good and evil are not rigorous scientific concepts. So for the sake of argument, let's define 'good' as refraining from proactively attacking other civilizations."
"'Evil,' then, is to proactively attack others. That's the most basic definition of good we can manage, right?"
"Now that you know of my existence, you must make your choice. Before you do, remember what I said earlier about the cosmic axioms, the environment of the universe, and the distance between us."
Luo Ji spoke as though he were hosting a game of live-action roleplay, laying out the rules as simply and clearly as possible.
Shi Qiang thought for a moment, then tentatively said, "Then I'll choose to communicate with you?"
Luo Ji wasn't surprised by this answer. He nodded. "You can—but you must understand, by doing so you reveal your position, and that could bring you trouble."
Hearing this, Shi Qiang hurriedly snuffed out the cigarette in his hand, letting that faint flame vanish into darkness. "So now I'm safe? If I choose silence?"
"If you're a hostile civilization, then doing that would be like walking right into your trap, wouldn't it?"
Seeing that Shi Qiang was beginning to grasp part of the Dark Forest law, Luo Ji added further explanation:
"Yes. But even if you hadn't exposed your position, the very fact you can detect me means I naturally have the chance to find you. From the perspective of technological progress, it's only a matter of time."
Shi Qiang mulled it over and replied, "Then I'll choose to talk with you. If you're hostile, I'm unlucky. If you're friendly, then we can form a stronger civilization together. Statistically, that's a fifty-fifty bet—not such bad odds."
Luo Ji was quite satisfied with Shi Qiang's rebuttal, so he extended the thought further: "Very good. Next, let's introduce a new concept—the chain of suspicion."
"Here's the problem: you say you come with goodwill. But how can I know whether you are truly good or secretly evil?"
"What if you're just pretending to be good, waiting to swallow my civilization whole? Meanwhile, you can't be sure whether we are good or bad either."
Shi Qiang bowed his head in thought. He understood what Luo Ji meant. If suspicion spiraled endlessly like this, there would never be an end to it.
"In this game of suspicion: if both civilizations are hostile, then it's a stalemate. If both are good, they can develop together. But if one is good and the other evil, the evil side devours the good."
"Do you see? Choosing hostility carries almost no risk of defeat, but choosing goodwill comes with the risk of being destroyed."
Hearing this, Shi Qiang finally understood something. That meant only by choosing hostility could a civilization maximize its own security. Compared to development, security was the greater necessity.
Shi Qiang thought some more, then countered: "But what if I'm stronger than you? If you're so weak you pose no threat, then I can still talk to you, right?"
Luo Ji chuckled, as though he'd already anticipated this question. He introduced another critical concept—the technological big bang.
Human civilization had lasted thousands of years, Earth's life billions, yet modern science had only developed in the last three or four centuries.
On the scale of cosmic time, that wasn't gradual progress at all, but a genuine technological explosion.
Such leaps could come from many possible causes—internal or external—but regardless, humanity's own technological big bang meant that no civilization could assume it would not happen elsewhere.
A weak civilization today might, before a stronger one even arrived, suddenly evolve and develop technology beyond that stronger civilization.
A weakling once desperate for help could, after growing, become a ravenous predator.
Combine that with the chain of suspicion, and the situation grew even more complicated.
So even a civilization still at the primitive tribal stage was a latent danger to others. Before their spark ignited, the best approach was to snuff them out!
Shi Qiang stared blankly at the cigarette butt burning down in Luo Ji's hand, and muttered, "Then the only way is to remain silent forever. Whether you exist or not, I pretend I never saw you."
But Luo Ji shook his head. "Think again. Is that really the right choice?"
Two seconds later, Shi Qiang let out a long sigh. "Still no good. If you're stronger than me, once I've detected you, you'll soon detect me. That puts me in danger."
"If you're weaker, but capable of a sudden technological explosion, then it's the first case again. So as long as I see you, I must kill you to guarantee my own safety."
Luo Ji smiled. Shi Qiang's logic was more agile than many scientists. "Exactly. That's why star 187J3X1 was destroyed. Any region suspected of harboring a civilization meets with total annihilation."
Luo Ji flicked his cigarette butt to the ground. The glow faded out at that exact moment. "What I'm doing now is nothing more than what any advanced civilization would consider perfectly normal."
A sudden daze overtook Shi Qiang. For higher civilizations, destroying a star system might be as easy as crushing a cigarette ember.
And to prevent a potential threat from ever arising, such an act was entirely justified.
This was the true meaning of the curse, the cosmic truth Luo Ji had labored to uncover.
"Damn it all…" Shi Qiang swore under his breath, as if he himself had become one of the civilizations in the Dark Forest, too afraid to raise his voice.
"The universe is a pitch-black forest. Each civilization is a hunter with a loaded gun, stalking silently through the undergrowth. They must remain hidden, for the forest is full of other hunters just like them."
"If one discovers another civilization—regardless of whether it's good or bad, weak or strong—its only choice is to fire and kill."
"In this forest, the other is hell itself, an eternal threat. Any civilization that exposes itself will quickly be destroyed."
"This is the true picture of cosmic civilizations. This is the explanation for the Fermi Paradox."
Luo Ji concluded their dialogue with that summary. Shi Qiang ground his teeth and let out a growl: "So fucking dark…!"
This enactment of cosmic deduction in the black wilderness deeply shook the Trisolarans who were watching.
At that moment, everyone saw the Waterdrop—still over ten hours away from Earth—suddenly accelerate, cutting the distance down to under five hours.
Not only the probes aboard the Infinity-class Carrier, but even people on Earth could now see with the naked eye a fine thread slicing across the night sky, racing toward Earth.
The Waterdrop, in its mad rush, finally tore away its mask of friendliness, revealing its most primal horror.
Its perfectly smooth surface reflected nearly all electromagnetic waves, making it virtually invisible in space.
When moving slowly or standing still, humans could not locate it at all with the naked eye.
At first, the fleet had only pinpointed its location by using Neptune's rings: they detonated nuclear warheads to vaporize the oil-film particles there, spreading dust across space in a vast cloud.
By observing the trails left as the droplets passed through interstellar dust, their positions could be determined.
This method of tracking the droplets was simple but effective. Humanity had previously deduced that nine more droplets were on their way precisely by watching how Trisolaran vessels cut through the galactic dust clouds.
And now, all the droplets had completely revealed their locations. The ten droplets had pushed their engines to maximum output, hurtling madly toward the Solar System.
At the tip of each droplet's tail, a dazzling blue halo appeared. It wasn't large, but it was piercingly bright, scattering the darkness of the void.
The halo would expand, then fade, only to be replaced by another. This cycle was several times faster than what had been seen during the Doomsday Battle.
It was the vacuum Valsythes electric field vortex device of the droplets. The nine furthest droplets had already plunged into the Solar System. They were like assassins with daggers bared, charging toward humanity with unmistakable malice.
This left the masses—who had pinned their hopes on building particle accelerators—utterly shaken. Weren't they promised nearly ten years?
Why weren't they even given ten days?
Was the Trisolaran civilization really so desperate to exterminate these pitiful insects?
From the command center of the War Moon, Li Ang watched and understood: the Trisolarans had reached a dead end. This was their only chance to survive.
The gravitational wave broadcasts from the Infinity-class carrier and Luo Ji's Dark Forest Theory had driven them into abject terror.
Their only option was to hurl the droplets into the Solar System at all costs—to blockade the sun so humanity couldn't use it to send out signals, and to destroy that damned Infinity-class carrier.
The droplets continued accelerating straight toward Earth.
There was no deceleration, no course correction; to save every possible fraction of time, they flew in a flawless straight-line trajectory.
At their current speed, if one were to strike Earth, it would pierce through like a bullet through cotton, and who could predict the extent of the catastrophe?
The extreme heat of the propulsion halo alone could vaporize everything within a hundred meters instantly. Passing through Earth's core would trigger crustal shifts, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis—but those would only be the "minor" consequences.
Yet humanity soon noticed: the droplets' true target was the Infinity-class carrier, not Earth itself.
Paul Atreides. The Infinity-class carrier. Luo Ji. These were the ones the Trisolarans meant to destroy.
Luo Ji dared not linger with Shi Qiang any longer. He had been marked for death by the droplets, and anyone near him would be dragged into misfortune.
Summoning a Universal Megacorp airship, he hurried back to the Infinity-class carrier with his data.
Inside the carrier's command hub, Luo Ji anxiously asked Paul: "When are we leaving?"
In the Doomsday Battle, droplets had shattered all faith in human warships with their super-strong interaction-force material. Even this Infinity-class carrier, to Luo Ji, could not possibly withstand them.
Escape seemed the only option.
But Paul merely smiled and shook his head. "Dr. Luo Ji, be patient. We're not leaving—for now."
Luo Ji froze. His mind raced through possibilities: perhaps the gravitational wave broadcast hadn't actually happened, that it had only been a bluff to scare the Trisolarans.
If so, then all they needed was to draw Trisolaran attention onto the carrier, giving Earth the chance to deploy a stellar-scale signal transmitter and threaten them into retreat.
But staying here? Why?
"Look at the people below. This warship is their hope. If we abandon them now, it will be no different from surrendering them to despair."
Through the holoscreen, Luo Ji saw Earth's surface. The media had turned every lens skyward. Terrified crowds prayed and gazed toward the Infinity-class carrier.
Countless people were clinging to the hope that the ship would fight back, that it would stop the tragedy from happening.
And Luo Ji realized: if they simply fled, no explanation could prevent despair. Humanity had already suffered enough blows.
The annihilation of the United Fleet was one thing—but if the Wallfacer himself abandoned them, that would be the true end.
Paul had never intended to leave. The real plan was locked inside his mind. Luo Ji knew only fragments.
What humanity needed now was victory.
A victory that could cleanse two centuries of humiliation, that could erase the shadow of the Doomsday Battle.
Only then did Luo Ji understand Paul's true intent. He was prepared to fight the droplets—here, above Earth, now.
But…
What trump card could Universal Megacorp possibly have to counter the droplets?
Glancing at Paul's confident expression, Luo Ji silently prayed that it wasn't just an empty bluff. The Trisolarans were no Sima Yi; they would not be fooled by theatrics.
The survival of human civilization hinged on this battle.
At this moment, the droplets were only one hour from Earth.
As they drew closer, their propulsion halos grew ever clearer, like radiant meteors tearing open the night sky.
In near-Earth orbit, the Infinity-class carrier had already deployed into combat stance. Several main batteries locked onto the approaching droplets.
The Asian Fleet's seven hundred stellar-class warships formed up around the carrier like stars around the moon, arrayed in a grand defensive formation. The display was imposing, even awe-inspiring.
But those who had already seen the United Fleet's pathetic defeat no longer placed faith in such grand fleets and giant cannons.
To most, it seemed inevitable: the fates of the North American and European Fleets would soon be repeated.
The indomitable droplets were simply not something ordinary warships could withstand.
(Show your support and read more chapters on my Patreon: [email protected]/psychopet. Thank you for your support!)