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The first meeting of the Intelligence Decipherment Committee (IDC) was also conducted in a sophon-free room. Although most people now favored the view that the sophons were gone, and the Solar System and the Earth were now "clean," they still took this precaution. Their main concern was that if the sophons were still present, they might endanger Yun Tianming.

The conversation between Tianming and Cheng Xin was publicized, but the real intelligence given by Tianming, the content of the three fairy tales, was kept in absolute secrecy. For a transparent, modern society, keeping such important information secret was a difficult task for both the UN and Fleet International. But the nations of the world soon reached consensus on this point: If the fairy tales were revealed, the world would be swept up by the enthusiasm of trying to decipher them, thereby exposing Tianming. The safety of Tianming wasn't just important for him individually, he, to date, the only person embedded in an alien society. His position was irreplaceable for humanity's future survival.

The secret decipherment of Tianming's message was another sign of the UN's authority and operational capabilities; it was another step on the way to a world government.

This sophon-free room was larger than the one Cheng Xin had used on the terminal station, though it wasn't by any means spacious for a conference room. The force field necessary to keep sophons out could enclose only a limited volume.

About thirty people were in attendance. Other than Cheng Xin, two other Common Era individuals were also present: the particle-accelerator engineer Bi Yunfeng and the physicist Cao Bin -- both former candidates for the Swordholder position.

Everyone wore high-voltage protective suits because the metallic walls of the sophon-free room were electrified. In particular, everyone was required to wear protective gloves, lest someone tap a wall out of habit, in an attempt to summon an information window. No electronics could function within the force field, thus the room had no information windows at all. To help the force field stay evenly distributed, equipment within the room was reduced to a minimum. Only chairs were provided, and there was no table. Since the protective suits were requisitioned from electrical engineers, the meeting within the metallic room resembled an ancient pre-shift gathering on a factory floor.

No one complained about the crowded, rough conditions, or the acrid smell in the air and the tingling on the skin brought about by the electrified air. After living for nearly three centuries under the constant surveillance of the sophons, being free of the alien voyeurs brought a sudden, fresh sense of relief. The ability to shield space from sophons had been developed soon after the Great Resettlement. It was rumored that those who had entered the very first sophon-free room came down with something called "screen syndrome": They talked incessantly as if they were drunk, and bared all their secrets to their companions. A reporter described the condition this way: "In this narrow slice of heaven, the people opened their hearts. Our gazes were no longer veiled."

The IDC was a combined effort by Fleet International and the UN PDC to decipher Yun Tianming's message. It oversaw the work of twenty-five working groups focusing on different subjects and areas of expertise. The attendees at this meeting were not experts or scientists, but the IDC committee members, who were also the leaders of the working groups.

In a soft voice, Cheng Xin requested a chance to speak. She stood up and surveyed all those present. "All this is the result of the Staircase Project. This endeavor cannot be separated from a particular man. Three centuries ago, his steadfastness, decisive leadership, and peerless creativity allowed the Staircase Project to overcome multiple difficulties and become reality. The man I'm talking about is Thomas Wade, chief of the PDC Strategic Intelligence Agency. I think we should thank him as well."

The conference room sank into silence. No one seconded Cheng Xin's suggestion. For most people, Wade was the very symbol of the darkness in Common Era human nature, the very antithesis of the lovely woman -- who had almost been killed by Wade -- standing in front of them. They shivered just thinking about him.

The IDC chair first thanked Yun Tianming and Cheng Xin on behalf of Fleet International and the UN. He called Tianming the bravest warrior in the history of the human race. He was the first human to successfully survive in an alien world. Alone, deep in the heart of the enemy, situated in an unimaginable environment, he fought on and brought hope to an Earth in crisis. Cheng Xin, on the other hand, had successfully retrieved the intelligence from Tianming through a combination of wits and guts.

"In total, we gathered two pieces of intelligence: the conversation between Dr. Cheng and Yun Tianming, and the three stories he told. Preliminary analysis points to the important information being hidden entirely within the three stories. We won't be paying much attention to the conversation in the future, but I will summarize what we've gleaned from it here.

The chair -- he happened to also be the PIA's current chief, a successor to Wade's position, though they were divided by three centuries -- said nothing in response to Cheng Xin's proposal. He simply continued down the agenda for the meeting. "The committee has established a basic principle and hope for the decipherment process. We believe the message is unlikely to contain any concrete technical information, but will more likely point out the correct direction for research. It may contain the guide to the correct theoretical framework for unknown technologies such as lightspeed spaceflight or the cosmic safety notice. If we can get that far, it will bring tremendous hope to humanity.

"That bastard! His lie could have killed Cheng Xin!" yelled AA, who was sitting next to Cheng Xin. The others gave her angry looks. She wasn't a member of the IDC, and was allowed to attend only at Cheng Xin's insistence as her assistant. AA had once been an accomplished astronomer, but because her CV wasn't very long, the others looked down on her. They all thought Cheng Xin ought to have someone more qualified to be her technical aide, and even Cheng Xin herself sometimes forgot that AA was a scientist.

Cheng Xin shook her head. "No. We met only in college. He and I did come from the same city, but we didn't go to the same primary or secondary schools."

The chair turned to Cheng Xin. "I want to ask a question. Did you really know each other as kids, as Tianming said?"

"First, we know that in order to send this message, Yun Tianming had to do a lot of preparatory work. He created over a hundred fairy tales, and mixed in three containing secret intelligence. He told these stories and published them over a long period of time to familiarize the Trisolarans with them -- no easy task. If the Trisolarans hadn't discovered the secrets contained within them during that process, they'll likely continue to treat these stories as harmless in the future. But even so, he tried to place yet another layer of protection around the stories."

"It's not so easy to get records of two children from before the Crisis Era. Even if they somehow managed to check the household registration records or school records and found out that they hadn't gone to the same elementary school or middle school, they still couldn't rule out the possibility that they did know each other. And there's something else you aren't thinking of." The PIA officer didn't bother hiding his contempt for AA's lack of professional experience. "Tianming could direct the sophons. He must have checked the records already."

"But they could check records from the Common Era."

The chair continued. "The risk had to be taken. By attributing the three stories to Cheng Xin, he further convinced the enemy that these tales were innocuous. During the hour it took to tell the stories, the yellow light never came on. We also found out that by the time Tianming finished telling the last story, the deadline set by Sophon had already elapsed. The Trisolarans had, as a gesture of compassion, extended the encounter by six minutes so that Tianming could finish his story. This confirms that they really thought the stories harmless. Tianming credited her for a specific reason: to show us that the three stories contained important intelligence.

A PIA officer said, "He didn't take a great risk with the lie. Their childhoods predated the Crisis Era, before the sophons had even arrived on the Earth. And back then they couldn't have been targets of sophon surveillance."

A document with a blue cover was distributed to the attendees. In this age, it was very rare to see paper documents. There was only a serial number, no title.

"The document can only be read in here. Do not bring it outside this room, and do not record it in any way. For most of you, this will be your first time reading it. Let's begin."

"There's not much else that we could get out of the conversation. We do all agree that Tianming's final words are very important." The chair waved his right hand in the air out of habit, in an attempt to invoke an information window. After noticing that there was no response, he went on awkwardly. "'Then let's pick a spot to meet, somewhere other than the Earth, somewhere in the Milky Way.' He meant two things by this: One, he was hinting that he would never be able to return to the Solar System. Two --" The chair paused, and waved his hand again, as if trying to dispel something. "It's not important. Let's just go on."

The air in the room grew heavier. Everyone knew what the chair was going to say: Yun Tianming had very little faith that the Earth would survive.

[The First Tale of Yun Tianming, "The New Royal Painter"]

A long time ago, there was a kingdom called the Storyless Kingdom.

The room quieted. Everyone started to read these three fairy tales that might save human civilization.

The Storyless Kingdom had a wise king, a kind queen, a group of just, capable ministers, and hardworking, honest common people. Life in the kingdom was as placid as a mirror: Yesterday was like today, and today is like tomorrow; last year was like this year, and this year is like next year. There were never any stories.

Until the princes and the princess grew up.

This kingdom had no stories. For a kingdom, not having any stories was a good thing. The people of such a kingdom were the happiest. Stories meant twists and catastrophes.

As a child, Prince Deep Water had gone to Tomb Island in the middle of the Glutton's Sea and never returned. As for why, that's a story for later.

The king had two sons: Prince Deep Water and Prince Ice Sand. He also had a daughter: Princess Dewdrop.

Prince Ice Sand grew up by the side of the king and queen, and they worried about him a great deal. The child was smart, but from a young age, he showed a cruel streak. He directed the servants to collect small animals from outside the palace, and he pretended he was the emperor of the animals. His "subjects" were his slaves, and if they disobeyed him even a little, he ordered them beheaded. Often, at the end of one of his play sessions, all the animals were dead, and he stood in a pool of blood, laughing hysterically…

As he grew older, the prince became more restrained. He was a man of few words, and his gaze was somber. But the king knew that the wolf had only hidden his teeth, and in Prince Ice Sand's heart was a hibernating poisonous snake, waiting for the right moment to emerge. Ultimately, the king decided to not make him the crown prince, instead designating Princess Dewdrop the heir apparent. The Storyless Kingdom would eventually have a queen regnant.

If the good character the king and queen passed on to their children was a fixed quantity, then Princess Dewdrop must have inherited the portion Prince Ice Sand lacked. She was smart, kind, and beautiful beyond measure. When she walked about during the day, the sun dimmed its light, shamed by the comparison; when she took a stroll at night, the moon opened its eyes wide to get a better look; when she spoke, the birds stopped twittering to listen; and when she traipsed over barren ground, flowers bloomed. The people loved the thought of having her as their queen, and the ministers were certain to dedicate themselves to helping her. Even Prince Ice Sand voiced no objections, though his gaze became even more somber and cold.

And so, story came to the Storyless Kingdom.

Everyone was happy, and even Prince Ice Sand's cold heart seemed to have melted. Contrary to his typical moody silence, he humbly wished his father a happy birthday, and expressed his desire that the king live as long as the sun, bathing the kingdom with his light. He also declared his support for the king's decision, saying that Dewdrop really was better suited to be the monarch than he. He congratulated his little sister and said he hoped that she would learn more of the skills for ruling a kingdom from their father so that she could discharge her future duties well. His sincerity and generosity moved everyone present.

The king made his announcement about the new plan of succession on his sixtieth birthday. On that night, the kingdom celebrated: Fireworks turned the sky into a splendid garden, and the brilliant lights everywhere transformed the palace into a crystalline, magical place. There was laughter and joyful conversation everywhere, and wine flowed like rivers…

The king was a bit disappointed by the sight. "He's so young! Does he have enough skill?"

The king shook his head. "The royal painter is old. The world is shrouded by a fog in his eyes, and his hands tremble so much that he can no longer capture the joy in our faces."

A minister suggested that a large painting of the scene should be made and hung in the palace to help remember this night.

"My son, I'm greatly pleased to see you like this," the king said, and caressed the prince's head. "I want it to be like this moment, always."

The prince turned and nodded, and the new painter came in. He was an older boy, about fourteen or fifteen years of age. Wrapped in a friar's gray hooded mantle, he resembled a terrified mouse among the bejeweled guests standing in the splendor of the palace. As he approached, he huddled and compressed his already-thin body to be even smaller, as though he were trying to avoid invisible brambles all around him.

"I was just about to get to that." Prince Ice Sand bowed deeply. "Father, allow me to present you with a new painter."

Needle-Eye looked up at the king, and then lowered his eyes again.

The prince bowed again. "Father, this is Needle-Eye, from He'ershingenmosiken. He's the best student of the great painter Master Ethereal. He began studying with the master at the age of five, and after ten years, has learned everything the great man can teach him. He is as sensitive to the colors and shapes of the world as we are to a red-hot branding iron. This sensitivity is then fixed and expressed by his paintbrush. Other than Master Ethereal himself, there is none with such skill in the world." The prince turned to Needle-Eye. "As the royal painter, you may look at the king directly without a breach in etiquette."

The king was surprised. "Child, your gaze is as piercing as a sword unsheathed next to a roaring fire. It's at odds with your youth."

Needle-Eye spoke for the first time. "Your Majesty, dread sovereign, please excuse a lowly painter if he has given offense. My eyes are a painter's eyes. A painter must paint first in the heart. I have already drawn in my heart an image of you, and of your dignity and wisdom. These I will transfer to the painting."

"Look at the princess, the future queen regnant. You must paint her as well."

Needle-Eye looked at the queen, then lowered his eyes. "Your Majesty, most honored queen, please forgive a lowly painter's breach of decorum. I have already drawn in my heart an image of you, and of your nobility and elegance. These I will transfer to the painting."

"You may also look at the queen," the prince said.

Needle-Eye took even less time to look at the princess. After the briefest of glances, he lowered his head and said, "Your Royal Highness, beloved princess of the people, please condone my lapse in courtly habits. Your beauty pains me like the midday sun, and I will, for the first time, feel the inadequacy of my paintbrush. But I have already drawn in my heart an image of you, and of your nonpareil loveliness. These I will transfer to the painting."

Then the prince asked Needle-Eye to look at each minister. He did, resting his gaze only briefly on each face. He lowered his eyes. "Your Honors, please excuse a lowly painter's offenses. I have already drawn in my heart an image of you, and of your talents and intellects. These I will transfer to the painting."

"Everything, my king. I can now paint a picture of each strand of hair on their bodies and head, and it will be an exact replica of the original."

Needle-Eye kept his head low, his face entirely hidden within the shadow of his hood. The cape appeared empty, containing only shadows and no substance. "Yes, my king."

"Everything?"

The celebration continued, and Prince Ice Sand pulled Needle-Eye into a corner. In a whisper, he asked, "Have you memorized all of them?"

Like ghosts, two horses emerged from the palace and sped west. The riders were Needle-Eye and Prince Ice Sand. They came to an underground bunker a few miles from the palace. It seemed sunken into the deepest sea of night: dank, gloomy, like the belly of a cold-blooded beast in deep slumber. Their two shadows swayed and flickered in torchlight, and their bodies were but two dark spots at the end of the long shadows. Needle-Eye took a scroll out of a canvas bag and unrolled it: a painting, about as long as a man was tall. It was the portrait of an old man. White hair and beard surrounded his face like silver flames, and his piercing gaze was very similar to Needle-Eye's, though endowed with more depth. The portrait showed off the skill of the painter -- lifelike, with every detail captured.

The celebration ended after midnight. The lights in the palace went out, one after another. It was the darkest hour before dawn: The moon had already set, and dark clouds, like a curtain, veiled the sky from west to east. The earth was submerged in ink. A chill wind blew through, and birds shivered in their nests, while terrified flowers folded their petals together.

The prince nodded. "Excellent. It was a smart decision to paint him first."

"My king, this is -- was -- my teacher, Master Ethereal."

"Yes, I had to, so that he would not paint me first." With great care, Needle-Eye hung the portrait on the damp wall. "All right, now I can get to work on the new pictures for you."

From a corner of the bunker, Needle-Eye retrieved a roll of something snowy white. "My king, this is a section of the trunk of a snow-wave tree of He'ershingenmosiken. When the tree reaches a hundred years of age, the trunk can be unrolled like paper -- the perfect medium for painting. My magic is only effective when I paint on snow-wave paper." He placed the roll on a stone table, unrolled a section, and pressed it under an obsidian slab. Then he took a sharp knife and cut the paper against the edge of the slab. When he lifted off the slab, the section of cut paper was pressed flat against the table. The pure white surface seemed to glow by itself.

The painter retrieved his implements from the canvas bag and laid them out. "My king, look at these brushes, made from the ear tufts of the wolves found in He'ershingenmosiken. The paints are also from there: The red is made from the blood of giant bats; the black is the ink of squids caught in the deep sea; the blue and the yellow are extracted from meteorites… All the paints must be mixed with the tears of a species of giant bird called the moon-blanket bird --"

"Just get on with it," the prince said.

Then, in a moment, as though a rippling surface suddenly froze, all the random spots connected to each other, and all the colors had meaning. Shapes appeared, and quickly turned crystal clear.

"The king."

Needle-Eye picked up his brush. He worked casually, a dab here, a streak there. Gradually, various colors appeared on the paper, but no shape could be discerned. It was as if the paper had been laid out in a multicolored rain, and drops of all hues continuously fell onto the paper. Over time, the paper was filled with colors -- a chaotic swirl, like a garden trampled by rampaging horses. The brush continued to glide through this maze of colors, as though the painter's hand no longer guided it, but it was leading the painter's hand. Puzzled, the prince watched from the side. He wanted to ask questions, but the movements of the colors emerging and gathering had a hypnotic effect, and he was mesmerized.

"Of course, of course. Who should I paint first?"

The prince saw a portrait of the king. The king was dressed like he had been earlier at the palace: a golden crown on his head and a magnificent ceremonial robe draped over his body. But the expression on his face was different: There was no longer dignity and wisdom in his eyes. Instead, a complex mixture of emotions could be detected: awakening from a dream, confusion, shock, sorrow… and behind them all was a terror that couldn't be fully expressed, as though his closest companion was attacking him with a sword.

"Very good." The prince nodded at the portrait. The torches reflected in his irises, as though his soul burned in deep wells.

"The portrait of the king is finished," said Needle-Eye.

Miles away in the palace, the king disappeared from his bedchamber. In his bed, held up by posts carved into the shapes of four gods, the blankets still retained his body heat, and the sheets still retained the impression of his weight. But of his body, there was no trace.

Needle-Eye flattened another sheet of snow-wave paper with the obsidian slab, and began to paint the queen's portrait. This time, the prince did not stand to the side to observe, but paced around in the bunker. The empty space echoed with his repetitive footsteps. This time, the painting was done in only half the time it took to do the first.

The prince picked up the finished painting and threw it on the floor. "I will have this mounted and framed and hang it on the wall here. I'll come here from time to time to look at it. Paint the queen next."

"My king, the portrait of the queen is finished."

In the garden outside the palace, a hound seemed to detect something and barked loudly a few times. But the sounds were instantaneously swallowed up by the boundless darkness, and it fell silent in fear. Trembling as it shrank into seclusion, it melded with the night.

In the palace, the queen disappeared from her bedchamber. In her bed, held up by posts carved into the shapes of four angels, the blankets still retained her body heat, and the sheets still retained the impression of her weight. But of her body, there was no trace.

"No, paint the ministers first. They are more dangerous. Of course, paint only those ministers who are loyal to my father. Do you remember them?"

"Of course, I remember everything. I can paint a picture of each strand of hair on their bodies and head --"

"Is the princess next?" asked Needle-Eye.

"Very good."

"Just do it. Hurry. You must finish before sunrise."

"That will not be a problem, my king. Before dawn, I will paint a portrait of each minister loyal to the old king, and the princess."

The captain ignored Auntie Wide. He bowed slightly to Dewdrop. "Princess, someone wants to see you." Then he stepped aside, revealing an old man.

Princess Dewdrop was awakened by insistent, loud knocks. No one had ever dared to knock on her door like this before. She got up and came to the door, which had just been opened by Auntie Wide.

Auntie Wide had been Dewdrop's wet nurse, and then cared for her as she grew up. The princess felt closer to her than even her own mother, the queen. Auntie Wide stared at the captain of the palace guards outside the door, whose armor still gave off the chill air of the night.

Needle-Eye flattened several sheets of snow-wave paper and began to paint like mad. Every time he finished a portrait, the subject disappeared from his or her bed. As the night flew by, the enemies of Prince Ice Sand turned one by one into pictures on the wall of the bunker.

"Have you gone mad? How dare you wake the princess! She hasn't been sleeping well the last few nights."

The old man's white hair and beard surrounded his face like silver flames. His gaze was both sharp and deep. This was the man who had been in the first portrait shown to the prince by Needle-Eye. His face and cape were caked with grime, his boots were covered in mud, and he carried a large canvas bag on his back; clearly, he had been on a long journey.

"But the king really has disappeared, as has the queen. My men said that both bedchambers were empty."

"How can you allow random strangers in here? And such a strange old man at that," said Auntie Wide.

"What are you talking about? You are mad!" Auntie Wide shouted.

But, oddly, he was holding up an umbrella. Stranger still was the fashion in which he held it: The umbrella spun nonstop in his hand. A closer examination of the umbrella revealed his reason: The pole and the canopy were both pure black, and at the tip of each rib was a small sphere made of some translucent, weighty stone. The stretchers for the ribs within the umbrella were all broken and could not hold the canopy up. Only by spinning the umbrella continuously to make the stones fly up could the canopy be kept open.

"The sentries stopped him, of course, but he said"-- the captain of the guards gave an anxious look to the princess --"that the king is already gone."

But the princess said nothing. Her hands clutched at the front of her nightgown.

The princess cried out and held on to Auntie Wide for support.

"Master, please come in," the princess said. Then she turned to the captain. "Guard this door."

The old man spoke. "Your Royal Highness, please let me explain."

Still spinning the umbrella, the old man bowed to the princess, as though respecting her for her calmness in the face of a crisis.

"Why are you spinning that umbrella like some clown?" Auntie Wide asked.

"Then come in with the umbrella," the princess said. Auntie Wide opened the door more so that the old man could come in with the spinning umbrella.

"I must keep this umbrella open lest I disappear like the king and the queen."

Once inside, the man set down the canvas bag on his back and let out an exhausted sigh. But the umbrella never stopped moving in his hand, and the small stone balls along the rim of the canopy flickered in the candlelight, casting bright spots along the walls like racing stars.

"I am Ethereal, a painter from He'ershingenmosiken. The new royal painter, Needle-Eye, is -- was -- my student."

"I've met him," said the princess.

"Did he look at you?" Ethereal asked, anxious.

"Terrible news, Princess. Terrible!" Ethereal sighed. "He is a devil. With his devilish art, he paints people into pictures."

"Yes, of course."

The captain poked his head into the room. "I've sent all the guards. We can't find him. I wanted to find the minister of war and ask him to mobilize the capital garrison. But Master Ethereal said that the minister of war is probably already gone as well."

"That's a lot of wasted breath," said Auntie Wide. "Isn't the job of a painter to paint people into pictures?"

"You misunderstand me," said Ethereal. "After he paints a portrait, the subject is gone. A live person turns into a dead picture."

"Then we must dispatch men to kill him right away."

"Did you say Prince Ice Sand?" asked Auntie Wide.

Ethereal shook his head. "More soldiers won't be of any use. Prince Ice Sand and Needle-Eye are certainly no longer anywhere near the palace. Needle-Eye could be painting anywhere in the world and still kill everyone here."

"Then start painting!" said Auntie Wide. "I'll hold up the umbrella for you."

Ethereal continued. "Only I can stop Needle-Eye. He's already painted me, but this umbrella can ensure that I don't disappear. If I paint him, he'll be gone."

Ethereal saw that the princess, Auntie Wide, and the captain of the guards were not surprised by this revelation.

Ethereal shook his head again. "No. The magic only works if I paint on snow-wave paper. But the paper I have with me hasn't been flattened, and cannot be used for painting."

"We have to worry about the matter at hand! Needle-Eye could be painting the princess any second -- he might already be doing it right now." Auntie Wide wrapped her arms around the princess, as if she could keep her safe.

"Yes. The prince wants to wield Needle-Eye as a weapon and eliminate the king and all those loyal to him, so that he can become the king."

Auntie Wide opened the master painter's canvas bag and retrieved a section of a snow-wave tree. The bark had already been peeled off, revealing the paper roll underneath. Auntie Wide and the princess unrolled a section, and the white paper seemed to brighten the room. They tried to flatten the paper on the floor, but no matter how much they pressed, as soon as they let go, the paper rolled back up.

"No. Only the obsidian from He'ershingenmosiken will do the job. I was hoping to get the obsidian slab back from Needle-Eye."

"There's really nothing else that will flatten this?"

The painter said, "It won't work. Only a slate made from the obsidian of He'ershingenmosiken can flatten snow-wave paper. That type of obsidian is very rare, and I only had one slab, which Needle-Eye stole from me."

"He'ershingenmosiken? Obsidian?" Auntie Wide slapped her forehead. "I have an iron that I use for pressing the princess's best formal gowns. It was made in He'ershingenmosiken, and it's obsidian!"

"That might work!"

Auntie Wide dashed out of the room and returned soon with a shiny black iron. She and the princess once again unrolled a section of the snow-wave scroll, and she pressed the iron against a corner for a few seconds. She lifted the iron, and the corner remained flat.

"Hold the umbrella for me, please, and I'll flatten the paper," Ethereal said to Auntie Wide. As he handed the umbrella over, he said, "Keep it spinning! If it ever falls closed, I'll disappear." He watched until Auntie Wide was spinning the umbrella overhead to his satisfaction. Then he squatted and began to flatten the paper, one small section at a time.

"The umbrella did have stretchers." The painter continued to press the paper as he answered. "This umbrella has an unusual history. In the past, other painters of He'ershingenmosiken also had Needle-Eye's and my skill. Besides people, they were also able to capture animals and plants. One day, an abyss dragon came to our land. The dragon was black in color, and it could fly as well as swim in the deep sea. Three painters painted it, but it continued to fly and swim. Then, the painters pooled their money and hired a magic warrior, who finally managed to slay the dragon with a fire sword. The struggle was so fierce that the ocean near He'ershingenmosiken boiled. Most of the abyss dragon's body was burnt to charcoal, but I was able to collect some body parts out of the ashes to make this umbrella. The canopy is made from the dragon's wing membranes, and the pole, handle, and ribs were all made from the dragon's bones. The stones you see at the tips of the ribs were taken from the ashes of the dragon's kidneys. The umbrella has the power to protect the user from being painted into a picture.

"Can't you fix the stretchers for the ribs?" asked the princess as she stared at the spinning umbrella.

"I'm sure he hasn't seen me," said Auntie Wide.

"There's no time. It will take too long for me to paint my portrait of Needle-Eye, but he could be done with his painting of the princess at any moment. You two." He pointed at Auntie Wide and the captain. "Has Needle-Eye seen you?"

"Later, the stretchers broke, and I tried to repair it with bamboo stretchers, but found the umbrella's magic disappeared. I took the bamboo out, and the magic returned. Then I tried to hold the canopy up with my hand, and that didn't work either. Apparently, no foreign material of any kind could be used in the umbrella. But I don't have any more dragon bones, and this is the only way to keep the umbrella open…"

The clock in the corner of the room sounded. Ethereal looked up and saw it was almost sunrise. He looked down and saw that only about a palm's width of the snow-wave paper lay flat on the floor, not enough for a painting. He dropped the iron and sighed.

"I saw him from a distance when he came into the palace," said the captain. "But I'm sure he didn't see me."

"But… even if we get to the Glutton's Sea, we can't get onto Tomb Island. You know that the sea has --"

"Good." Ethereal stood up. "Please accompany the princess to the Glutton's Sea, and find Prince Deep Water on Tomb Island."

"Cross that bridge when you get to it. This is the only way. By dawn, all the ministers loyal to the king will have been painted into pictures, and Prince Ice Sand will have control of the capital garrison and the palace guards. He will seize the throne, and only Prince Deep Water can stop him."

The princess and the other two weren't sure what the master painter was talking about, but Ethereal didn't elaborate. He went on. "You must bring Deep Water back to the palace and kill Needle-Eye. Then you must find the painting of the princess and burn it. It's the only way to keep her safe."

"If Prince Deep Water returns to the palace, won't Needle-Eye paint him into a picture as well?" asked the princess.

"Don't worry. Needle-Eye will not be able to paint Prince Deep Water. The prince is the only person in the kingdom who cannot be painted by Needle-Eye. Luckily, I only taught Needle-Eye how to paint in the Western style, but never taught him Eastern painting."

"Your Royal Highness, it's too late. They're gone. They're now only paintings. If you find them, don't burn them. Keep them for memory."

"What if we can find the paintings of the king and the queen --"

"Princess, now is not the time for sorrow. If you want to avenge your father and mother, you had better be on your way." The old master turned to Auntie Wide and the captain. "Remember, until you locate and destroy the princess's portrait, you must keep the umbrella open over her. She can't be without its protection, not even for a second." He took the umbrella from Auntie Wide's hands, and kept spinning it. "Don't spin it too slowly, because it will fall closed; but don't spin it too fast, because the umbrella is old, and it may fall apart. The umbrella is alive, in a sense. If you spin it too slow, it will cry out like a bird. Listen --" He slowed down the spinning until the stones at the rim of the canopy began to droop, and the umbrella emitted a nightingale-like sound. The slower he spun it, the louder the noise. The old master sped up the spinning. "If you spin it too fast, it will ring like a bell. Like this --" The old master spun the umbrella even faster, and the umbrella began to sound like a wind chime, but faster and louder. "All right. Now protect the princess." He handed the umbrella back to Auntie Wide.

Grief crushed Princess Dewdrop, and she fell to the floor sobbing.

"I taught that vile spawn how to paint. Death is what I deserve. What are you waiting for? Do you want to see the princess disappear before your eyes?"

Auntie Wide shivered. She moved the umbrella over the princess.

Auntie Wide kept spinning the umbrella over the old master. She looked at the princess, then back to the painter, hesitating.

"Master Ethereal, let's leave together," Princess Dewdrop said, looking up with tear-filled eyes.

The old painter stroked his beard and smiled. "It's all right. I've painted all my life. To be turned into a painting is not a bad way to go. I trust my student's technique. The portrait will be excellent…"

"No. The dragon umbrella is only able to protect one person. If two individuals who have been painted by Needle-Eye try to use it together, they'll both die a terrible death: Half of each person will be painted into the picture, and the other half will remain under the umbrella… Now raise the umbrella over the princess and go! Each moment you delay increases the danger. Needle-Eye may finish the picture any moment now!"

The captain took over. "Hurry! Prince Ice Sand's men are everywhere. We'll have trouble getting away after daylight."

Auntie Wide said to the captain, "Can you keep the umbrella up for a while? I need to go pack."

Half an hour later, by the faint glow of dawn, a light carriage left the palace from a side door. The captain drove. In the carriage were the princess and Auntie Wide, who held up the spinning umbrella. They were all dressed as commoners, and the carriage soon disappeared in the fog.

Princess Dewdrop stared at the empty space where the painter had been and muttered, "Let's go. To the Glutton's Sea."

As he spoke, his body slowly became transparent, then faded away like a wisp of fog.

"But I have to pack! The princess has never been away. I've got to take her traveling cloak and boots, and lots of clothes, and her water, and… also the bath soap from He'ershingenmosiken -- she can't sleep if she doesn't bathe with it…" Auntie Wide continued to mutter as she left.

In that distant underground bunker, Needle-Eye had just completed the portrait of Princess Dewdrop. "This is the most beautiful portrait I've ever painted," he said to Prince Ice Sand.

Once they were outside the palace, the captain drove the horses as fast as they would go. All three were anxious. In the brightening darkness, they felt danger looming in every shadowy copse and field they passed. After the sky brightened even more, the carriage came to the top of a hill, where the captain stopped so they could look back along the road. The kingdom spread out below the hill, and the road was like a straight line that divided the world in half. At the end of the line was the palace, looking like a pile of toy blocks forgotten on the horizon. No one was chasing after them; apparently Prince Ice Sand thought the princess no longer existed because she had been captured by Needle-Eye's brush.

[The Second Tale of Yun Tianming, "The Glutton's Sea"]

They continued in a more relaxed manner. As the sky continued to brighten and illuminate everything around them, the world resembled a picture being painted. At first, there were only vague outlines and hazy colors; later, the outlines became more defined, the colors richer and more vivid. The moment just before the sun rose was when the painting became complete.

"That's true," said Auntie Wide, spinning the umbrella. "But you're alive in this picture. In the other picture, you're already dead."

"It's so lovely outside," said the princess. "It's as if we're already in the picture."

The princess, who had always lived in the palace, had never seen such large patches of vibrant colors: the green of forests, grassland, and fields, the bright red and brilliant yellow of wildflowers, the silver of the sky reflected in lakes and ponds, the snowy white of flocks of sheep… As the sun rose, it was as if the painter of this world-picture scattered a handful of gold dust boldly over the surface of the painting.

They talked about Prince Deep Water.

"Why was he exiled to Tomb Island?" asked the princess.

The princess was reminded of her departed parents. She forced herself to not cry. She understood that she was no longer a young girl, but a queen with duties she had to bear.

"They say he's a monster," said the captain.

"They say he's a giant."

"Prince Deep Water is no monster!" said Auntie Wide.

"Even if he's a giant, he's still the prince," said the princess. "Why was he exiled to the island?"

"He's no giant. I held him when he was a baby. I know."

"When we get to the sea, you'll see. Many others have seen him. He really is a giant."

It was noon, and the captain shot two hares with his bow. The three ate by the side of the road in an open space between some trees. Princess Dewdrop caressed the soft grass next to her, inhaled the fragrance of herbs and wildflowers, watched the sunlight dappling the ground, and listened to the birds singing in the woods and some distant shepherd playing his flute -- she was curious and delighted by this new world.

"He wasn't exiled. When he was little, he took a boat to Tomb Island to fish. But that was when the glutton fish appeared in the sea. He couldn't come back, so he had to grow up on the island."

Now that it was light out, the road gradually filled with more pedestrians and carriages. Since the princess had rarely set foot outside the palace in the past, people did not recognize her. She was also wearing a veil so that only her eyes showed, but anyone who saw her still exclaimed at her beauty. The people also admired the handsome young carriage driver and chuckled at the sight of the silly old mother holding up the umbrella for her pretty daughter -- and what a strange way to keep the umbrella up! It was a bright, sunny day, and everyone thought it was a parasol.

"Silly girl, how can out here be better than the palace? You don't know what it's like out here. Right now, it's spring. But in winter, it's cold, and in summer, it's hot. There are gales, and rainstorms, and all kinds of different people out here --"

But Auntie Wide sighed. "Oh, Princess, I'm so sorry you have to be away from the palace, suffering."

"I never knew anything about the outside before. In the palace, I studied music, painting, poetry, mathematics, and two languages that no one speaks anymore. But no one told me what was outside. How am I supposed to govern this kingdom?"

"I think being outside is better than being in the palace."

A day's journey lay between the palace and the sea. But the princess's party avoided the major roads and towns, so they didn't reach the sea until midnight.

"Princess, your ministers will help you."

"The ministers who would have helped me have all been painted into pictures… I still think the outside is better."

Dewdrop had never seen such a wide, open sky full of stars, and for the first time she felt how dark and silent the night could be. The torch on the carriage could only illuminate a small patch around her, and the world beyond was black velvet. The horses' hoofbeats seemed loud enough to shake the stars from the sky. The princess pulled on the captain's arm and asked him to stop.

"It's the sound of the sea, Princess."

"What are these?"

The captain stopped, hopped down, and took the torch close to one of the objects. "Princess, you should recognize these."

"Because the sea has glutton fish."

They went on a bit farther, and the princess could see vague shapes on both sides -- giant bananas?

"Why are the boats… on land?"

"Don't be scared, Princess. That's not a snake, but the surf. We've reached the sea."

The light from the captain's torch revealed a long-abandoned boat. The sand buried half of it, and the exposed part seemed like the skeleton of some beast.

"Look over there!" The princess pointed ahead. "A big white snake!"

"Boats?"

"Yes, boats."

"Listen! What is that? It sounds like a giant breathing."

The princess and Auntie Wide, who kept the umbrella over her, climbed down from the carriage. She had only seen the sea in pictures before, and those painted seas were blue waves under a blue sky. But the sea she saw now was a black ocean at night, filled with the grandness and mystery of starlight, like another sky in liquid form. The princess advanced toward the sea, as if compelled by some force. The captain and Auntie Wide stopped her.

The captain picked up a loose plank lying nearby and walked ahead, tossing it into the sea. The plank bobbed over the water a few times before a black shadow surfaced and headed for it. Since most of the shadowy creature was underwater, it was hard to tell how large it was. The scales on its body flickered in the torchlight. Then, three or four more shadows surfaced and also swam for the plank. The shadows fought over the plank, and as the water splashed, the sound of sharp teeth sawing through and crunching the wood could be heard. In a few moments, the shadows and the plank all disappeared.

"It's dangerous to get too close," said the captain.

"The glutton fish will tear you apart and eat you!" said Auntie Wide.

"They could make short work of even a large ship," said the captain.

"I don't think the water is very deep. Will I drown?"

"Where's Tomb Island?" asked Auntie Wide.

They camped on the beach. Auntie Wide handed the spinning umbrella to the captain and retrieved a small wooden basin from the carriage.

"In that direction." The captain pointed at the horizon. "But we can't see it now. We'll have to wait until daylight."

"I think only two bars are left in the entire palace -- no, the entire kingdom. I saved one from years back for the princess. Anything from He'ershingenmosiken is superior, but fewer and fewer of these objects are left." Auntie Wide took back the bath soap and carefully packed it away.

The captain returned with a basin full of fresh water. Auntie Wide took out the princess's bath soap and touched it to the water. With a pop, the surface of the water became full of foam, and some of the foam spilled out the sides.

"Princess, I'm afraid you won't be able to bathe tonight. But at least you can wash your face."

The captain handed the umbrella back to Auntie Wide and took the basin to go find water. His figure disappeared in the night.

"What a good young man." Auntie Wide yawned.

The captain hefted the soap; it seemed to have no weight at all, like holding a white shadow. "This really is from He'ershingenmosiken! I'm amazed we still have any."

The captain stared at the soap foam. He turned to Auntie Wide. "May I see the soap?"

Auntie Wide carefully handed over the pure white bath soap. "Hold on tight! It's lighter than a feather. If you let go, it will float away."

As she watched the white foam, the princess recalled her life in the palace for the first time since the start of the journey. Every night, in her elegant, ornate bathing suite, the bathing pool was covered by foam just like this. In the light of the various lamps, the bubbles sometimes looked pure white like a cloud pulled from the sky, sometimes iridescent, like a pile of jewels. As she soaked among the bubbles, she felt her body turn soft as noodles, felt herself melt into the bubbles. It felt so comfortable that she didn't want to move anymore, so that the servant girls had to lift her out, dry her, and then carry her to the bed to sleep. The wonderful feeling lasted until the next morning.

After the princess washed her face with the He'ershingenmosiken bath soap, her face felt relaxed and soft, but her body remained tired and stiff. After a quick supper, she lay down on the beach -- she tried lying on a blanket first, then realized that it was more comfortable to sleep on the sand directly. The sand retained some of the heat of the day, and made her feel as though she were being held in a warm, giant palm. The rhythmic surf was like a lullaby, and she soon fell asleep.

After an unknown amount of time, Princess Dewdrop was awakened by a ringing bell. The sound came from the black umbrella spinning overhead. Auntie Wide was asleep next to her, and the umbrella-spinner was the captain of the guards. The torches had already been extinguished, and night covered all like black velvet. The captain appeared as a cutout against the starry sky, and only his armor reflected the starlight, while his hair swayed with the wind. The umbrella spun steadily in his hand, a tiny dome that blocked out half the sky. She couldn't see his eyes, but could feel them and innumerable twinkling stars gazing at her.

"We seem to be farther away from the sea."

"Sorry, Princess. I spun a bit too fast," whispered the captain.

"After midnight."

"What time is it?"

"It's low tide. Tomorrow morning, the water will come back."

"Have you been taking turns with the umbrella?"

"Yes. Auntie Wide did it for the whole day. I'll relieve her by doing it a bit longer tonight."

"But you drove all day. Let me do it. You get some rest."

Princess Dewdrop was a bit surprised by her own words. As far as she could remember, this was the first time she had ever thought about the needs of others.

"No, Princess. Your hands are smooth and delicate; spinning the umbrella will give you blisters. Let me keep on doing this."

"What is your name?"

Though they'd traveled together for a whole day, she hadn't thought to ask for his name until now. Before, she would have thought this perfectly normal. But now she felt a bit guilty.

"I'm called Long-Sail."

"Sail?" The princess looked around. They were camped by the side of a large boat on the beach, which shielded them from the wind. Unlike the other boats stranded on the beach, this one still had its mast, like a sword pointing at the stars. "Isn't a sail the cloth hung on the long stick?"

"Sails are so white on the sea. Very pretty."

"Only in pictures. Real sails are not so white."

"I believe you are from He'ershingenmosiken?"

"Yes. That's called a mast. The sail hangs from it so that the wind can push the boat."

"Not really. I was so young when I left that I don't remember much of it. And even if I do remember, it's useless. I can never leave the Storyless Kingdom."

"That's right. My father was an architect in He'ershingenmosiken. He brought our whole family here when I was little."

The waves crashed against the beach some distance away, as though repeating Long-Sail's words again and again: can never leave; can never leave…

"Do you ever think about going home -- I mean, to He'ershingenmosiken?"

"Tell me some stories about the outside world. I don't know anything," said the princess.

"You don't need to know. You are the princess of the Storyless Kingdom, and it's natural that the kingdom has no stories for you. As a matter of fact, no one outside the palace tells their children any stories either. But my parents were different. They were from He'ershingenmosiken, and so they did tell me some stories."

"My father told me that long ago, the Storyless Kingdom had stories, too."

"That's true… Princess, do you know that the kingdom is surrounded by the sea? The palace is at the center of the kingdom. No matter which direction you pick, you'll end up eventually at the shore. The Storyless Kingdom is a big island."

"Life was full of stories, and filled with changes and surprises. There were several big bustling cities in the kingdom, and the palace wasn't surrounded by forests and fields, but by a flourishing capital. Everywhere in the cities you could find the valuable goods and the singular tools and utensils of He'ershingenmosiken. And the goods of the Storyless Kingdom -- oh, I mean the Storyful Kingdom -- flowed to He'ershingenmosiken over the sea without cease. People's lives were unpredictable, like riding a fast horse through the mountains: One moment you'd be atop a peak, and the next moment you'd have fallen into a ravine. There was opportunity and danger: A poor person could become rich overnight, and a wealthy person could also lose everything in a moment. Upon awakening, no one knew what was going to happen that day, or who they were going to meet. Life was stimulating and astonishing.

"In the past, the sea around the kingdom wasn't called the Glutton's Sea. Back then, there were no glutton fish, and ships plied the waters freely. Every day, countless ships passed between the Storyless Kingdom and He'ershingenmosiken -- well, back then, this was called the Storyful Kingdom, and life was very different."

"Of course. I knew that."

"Oh?"

"The glutton fish sold very well in the kingdom. Although the fish's teeth were tiny, they were as hard as diamonds and could be used as drill heads. Their fins were also very sharp, and could be made into arrowheads or small knives. Thus, more and more glutton fish were shipped from He'ershingenmosiken to this kingdom. Once, a typhoon caused one of these transport ships to capsize near the coast, and more than twenty barrels of glutton fish were lost at sea.

"But one day, a merchant ship from He'ershingenmosiken brought a stock of rare small fish in cast-iron barrels. The fish was only about as long as a finger, black in color, and looked perfectly ordinary. The merchant performed for the public in the markets: He stuck a sword into the iron barrel, and after an ear-piercing series of grinding noises, pulled the sword out to show that it had been bitten into a saw. The fish were called glutton fish, a freshwater species found in dark pools deep in the caves of He'ershingenmosiken."

"It turned out that the glutton fish thrived in the ocean, and grew to be as long as a man, far larger than their freshwater form. Also, they bred quickly, and their population exploded. They began to eat everything that floated on the surface. Ships and boats that weren't dragged onto the shore in time were chewed into pieces. When glutton fish surrounded a ship, they chewed huge holes through the bottom. But the ship didn't even have time to sink before it was chewed into nothing, as though it had melted. The schools of glutton fish swam around the kingdom and quickly formed a barrier in the sea."

"And so the glutton fish laid siege to the Storyful Kingdom, and the shore became a land of death. There were no more ships and sails, and the kingdom was sealed off, with all connections to He'ershingenmosiken and the larger world cut off. It reverted to a self-sufficient agrarian land. The bustling cities disappeared and turned into small towns and ranches. Life became calm and dull, with no more changes, no more stimulation and surprises. Yesterday was like today, and today is like tomorrow. The people gradually grew used to this and stopped yearning for a different life. Their memories of the past, like the exotic goods from He'ershingenmosiken, grew fewer with each passing day. People even deliberately tried to forget the past, and also the present. All in all, they no longer wanted stories, so they patterned their life into a storyless one. And so the Storyful Kingdom became the Storyless Kingdom."

Princess Dewdrop was mesmerized by the story. Only long after Long-Sail had stopped did she ask, "Are there still glutton fish everywhere in the sea?"

"Princess, do you really think the world consists of only these two places?"

"That's what the royal tutor taught me when I was little."

"No. They live only around the coast of the Storyless Kingdom. Those with good eyes can sometimes see distant seabirds floating on the surface of the ocean hunting for food. There are no glutton fish there. The ocean is immense and boundless."

"So, there are other places in the world in addition to the Storyless Kingdom and He'ershingenmosiken?"

"He doesn't even believe that lie himself. The world is very, very large. The ocean has no edge, and holds innumerable islands. Some are smaller than the kingdom, others larger. There are even continents."

"What are continents?"

"Land that is as vast as the sea. Even on a fast horse, you wouldn't be able to go from one end to the other after many months."

"As large as all that?" The princess sighed. Then, abruptly, she asked, "Can you see me?"

"I can only see your eyes. There are stars in them."

"Then you must be able to see my yearning. I want to ride a sailboat across the sea, and go to faraway places."

"What are you looking at?" the princess asked softly.

"Dewdrops will evaporate and disappear in the sun."

"They do. You're all beautiful, like crystals."

"What's wrong?"

"Ah, like me. Do they look like me?"

"Those are called dewdrops," said Long-Sail.

"You and I both know that we cannot get to Tomb Island, and we can't bring Prince Deep Water back."

The captain sighed deeply. He did it without making any noise, but the princess felt it.

Long-Sail was pointing at a small clump of grass in the sand. A few small droplets glistened in the torchlight on the grass blades.

"When it's daytime, they'll be even prettier in the sun."

"All right."

"I will not let you disappear."

"There, Princess -- look over there."

The torches were lit. Princess Dewdrop looked at Captain Long-Sail, but noticed that he was looking elsewhere.

The princess nodded. Her eyes dimmed. "Then they're even more like me. If this umbrella closes, I will disappear. I will be the dewdrop in the sun."

"Impossible. We can never leave the Storyless Kingdom, Princess, never ever… If you're afraid of the dark, let's light the torches."

"If so, I'll just hold the umbrella up for you forever."

[The Third Tale of Yun Tianming, "Prince Deep Water"]

The next time Princess Dewdrop awakened, it was light out. The sea had turned from black to blue, but the princess still thought it looked completely different from pictures she had seen. The vastness that had been hidden by night now lay bare. Under the morning sun, the surface of the sea was completely empty. But in the princess's imagination, the glutton fish didn't cause this emptiness; rather, the sea was empty for her, just as her suites in the palace were empty, waiting for her. The yearning she had spoken of to Long-Sail during the night now became more intense. She imagined a white sail belonging to her appearing on the sea, drifting away with the wind until it disappeared.

What the princess saw first wasn't the island, but the giant standing on the island. It was clearly Prince Deep Water. He stood on the island like a lonesome mountain: his skin bronzed by the sun, his muscles rippling and bulging like folds of rock, his hair drifting in the wind like trees near the peak. He looked like Ice Sand, but wasn't gloomy or dismal; rather, his gaze and expression all gave the viewer the feeling that he was open like the sea. The sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the giant's head was already bathed in the golden light, as though he were on fire. He shaded his eyes with a huge hand, and for a moment, the princess thought her gaze met his, and she cried out: "Big brother! I'm Dewdrop, your little sister! I'm your baby sister Dewdrop! We're here!"

Auntie Wide now held the umbrella up for her. The captain called for them from the beach ahead. When they came to his side, he pointed to the ocean. "Look, that's Tomb Island."

"Why isn't he paying attention to us?" asked the anxious princess.

The giant gave no indication that he heard. His gaze swept past where they stood and moved elsewhere. Then he put his hand down, shook his head thoughtfully, and turned away.

"Who would notice three ants in the distance?" The captain turned to Auntie Wide. "I told you Prince Deep Water is a giant."

"We still have to let him know what's happened first," said the captain.

"But when I held him he really was just a tiny baby! How did he get so big? But it's a good thing he's a giant. No one can stop him. He can punish those evildoers and retrieve the princess's portrait."

"We must go over there! Let's go to Tomb Island!" The princess clutched at Long-Sail.

"We can't. In all these years, no one has been able to get on Tomb Island. And no one there can come here."

Watching the tearful princess, Long-Sail seemed helpless. "I really don't know of a way. Coming here was the right decision, because you had to get away from the palace -- otherwise you'd just be waiting to die. But I knew from the start that we wouldn't be able to get to Tomb Island. Maybe… we can send him a message by messenger pigeon."

"Is there really no way?" Tears escaped the princess's eyes. "We came here to look for him! You must know what to do."

"But what good would it do? Even if he got the message, he still wouldn't be able to come here. He might be a giant, but even he would be torn apart by the glutton fish in the sea… Let's have breakfast before we decide what to do. I'll go prepare."

"Oh no, my basin!" Auntie Wide cried out. It was high tide, and the rising waves had reached the wooden basin the princess had used the night before to wash her face. The basin had already floated some distance into the sea. It was upside down, and the soapy water inside had thrown white foam across a patch of the sea. They could see a few glutton fish swimming toward the basin, their sharp fins cutting through the surface like knives. The basin was going to turn into woodchips in their teeth in a second.

"Great idea! Let's go find a messenger pigeon right away."

But something incredible happened: The glutton fish didn't get to the basin. As soon as they reached the foam, they stopped swimming and floated to the surface. The fierce fish seemed to lose their drive, and became listless. A few slowly swung their tails back and forth -- not to swim, but to display their relaxation. Others even decided to float with their white bellies up.

The three observed the sight in silence, stunned. Then the princess said, "I… think I know how they feel. You're so comfortable in the foam that it's like you've gone boneless. They don't want to move."

"Even in He'ershingenmosiken, this kind of soap is very precious," said Captain Long-Sail. "Do you know how it is made? There's a magical forest in He'ershingenmosiken made up of thousand-year-old bubble trees, all very tall. Normally, there's nothing special about the bubble trees, but whenever there's a strong wind, soap bubbles come out of the trees. The stronger the wind, the more bubbles emerge. The He'ershingenmosiken bath soap is made from those bubbles, but collecting the bubbles is no easy matter. The bubbles drift very fast in the wind, and since they are transparent, it's very hard to see them. Only if someone were running as fast as the bubbles, such that they're at rest relative to the bubbles, would they be able to see them. This is possible only by riding the fastest horses, of which there are no more than ten in all of He'ershingenmosiken. Whenever the bubble trees begin to blow bubbles, the soap-makers ride these horses to chase after the wind and try to collect the bubbles with a thin gauze net. The bubbles come in different sizes, but even the largest bubble, once it's in the net, will burst and end up smaller than the eye could see. Hundreds of thousands of such bubbles have to be collected -- sometimes millions -- to make one bar of soap."

Auntie Wide said, "The bath soap from He'ershingenmosiken really is wonderful. Too bad there are only two bars left."

"Absolutely not!" said Auntie Wide. "How can the princess take such a risk?"

Long-Sail abruptly stopped talking and stared at the sea, deep in thought. The few glutton fish continued to float lazily in the white foam. In front of them was the wooden basin, undamaged.

"But once the soap is in the water, each bubble from the bubble tree turns into millions of new bubbles. This is why this kind of bath soap generates so much foam. The bubbles have no weight, which is why pure, authentic He'ershingenmosiken bath soap also has no weight. It's the lightest substance in the world, but extremely precious. The bars that Auntie Wide has were probably given as gifts by the He'ershingenmosiken ambassador at the king's coronation. After that --"

"I wasn't talking about the princess."

The princess could tell by his determined gaze that the captain had already made up his mind.

"I think there may be a way to get to Tomb Island!" Long-Sail pointed to the basin. "What if that's a little boat?"

"If you go alone, how can you make Prince Deep Water believe you?" The princess's excited face was flushed. "I'll go, too. I have to!"

"My brother and I can prove our relationship by testing our blood," said the princess.

"Do you think I'm going to be safe staying here?" The princess pointed to the spinning black umbrella in Auntie Wide's hand. "We'll attract too much attention, and Ice Sand is going to follow us here. If I remain here, Ice Sand's army will catch me even if I don't end up in a painting. I'll be safer on Tomb Island."

Auntie Wide said nothing. She knew there was a way.

"Even if you get to the island, how can you prove you are who you say you are?" The captain looked meaningfully at the commoner's garb on the princess.

The captain found the smallest boat on the beach and used the horses to drag it to where the waves could just lick it. He couldn't find a working sail, but was able to retrieve a pair of old oars from other ships. He had the princess and Auntie Wide, who held the umbrella, board the boat first. Then he skewered the bar of He'ershingenmosiken bath soap with his sword and handed the sword to the princess. "As soon as the boat is in the water, stick the soap in."

"Even so, the princess cannot go. It's too frightening!" But Auntie Wide's tone was no longer so nonnegotiable.

And so they decided to go for it.

He pushed the boat into the sea and waded until the water had risen to his waist before jumping into the boat himself. He rowed with all his strength, and the boat headed for Tomb Island.

The boat proceeded over the serene sea, dragging a long foamy wake like a wisp of cloud fallen to the sea. Innumerable glutton fish approached from both sides and swam into the foam like pilgrims congregating at a river of clouds. Once in a while, a few glutton fish approached from the front of the boat and managed to get a few bites in on the bottom -- one even managed to bite off a chunk of the oar in the captain's hand. But soon, even these fish were lured away by the foam behind the boat, and not much damage was done. As the princess took in the pure white cloud-river of bubbles behind the boat and the intoxicated multitude of glutton fish, she was reminded of Heaven as described by the priests.

The black fins of the glutton fish began to appear around them and to approach. The princess sat at the stern, and submerged the soap on the sword into the water. Foam instantly swelled out of the sea until the bubbles were as high as a man before spreading out in the wake of the ship. As the glutton fish swam into the bubbles, they began to drift, as though they were enjoying the incomparable sensation of cozying up on a soft, white, plush blanket. This was the first time the princess had been able to get such a close look at the glutton fish: Except for their white bellies, they were entirely black, like machines made of steel and iron -- and now they were lazy and docile in the foam.

The princess pulled her gaze back to Long-Sail, who was propelling the boat. He looked even more the embodiment of strength: his muscles bulging everywhere, the two oars in his hands swinging rhythmically like a pair of wings, pushing the boat ahead steadily. The man seemed born for the sea; his movements were freer and more confident than when he had been on land.

Auntie Wide cried out, "Look! Prince Deep Water seems to be growing shorter."

The shore receded and the boat approached Tomb Island.

The princess looked. Auntie Wide was right. The prince was still a giant, but he was clearly smaller than he had been when seen from the shore. He still stood with his back to them and looked out in another direction.

"The prince sees us!" Auntie Wide called out. On Tomb Island, Prince Deep Water turned in their direction. One of his hands pointed at them, and his eyes gave a look of surprise. His mouth moved as though shouting something. It was no wonder that he was surprised. Theirs was the only boat on this sea of death, the farther back it was from the boat, the wider the foamy wake grew. From his vantage point, the sea seemed to suddenly be inhabited by a long-tailed comet.

Tomb Island had once been uninhabited. Twenty years ago, when Deep Water had gone to the island for fishing, he had brought with him a palace guardian, a royal tutor, and a few guards and servants. As soon as they came onto the island, schools of glutton fish came into the nearby shallows and sealed off the way home.

They soon realized that the prince wasn't shouting at them. A few normal-sized individuals appeared at the prince's feet. At this distance, the men looked tiny, and their faces couldn't be clearly seen. But they were all looking in the direction of the boat, and a few waved.

The boat was almost at the island. They could see eight or so normal-height people, most of them dressed in rough clothing made of canvas. like the prince himself. Two of them wore ceremonial robes from the palace, though they were very old and worn. Most also had swords. They ran onto the beach, leaving the prince behind them. By now he looked only about twice as tall as the others, no longer a giant.

The princess and the others noticed that the prince looked shorter still. The closer they approached the island, the shorter the prince grew.

"Careful! The princess has to be under the umbrella," Auntie Wide shouted. She was now very skilled with the umbrella, and managed to keep it spinning above the princess even with only one hand.

The captain rowed harder and the boat dashed forward. The waves pushed the boat like a giant's hands, and the hull jolted as the bottom came to rest against the sand, almost toppling the princess out. The people onshore hesitated, apparently worried about the glutton fish, but four of them did come forward into the water to help stabilize the boat and support the princess as she disembarked.

Prince Deep Water came forward. Now he looked no taller than an ordinary man -- in fact, he was shorter than two of his followers. He smiled at the newcomers like a kindhearted fisherman, but the princess could see shades of their father in his movements. With eyes full of hot tears, she called out, "Brother! I'm your sister, Dewdrop."

The welcoming party did not bother to disguise their surprise. They looked from the spinning black umbrella to the wake of the ship: The white foam from the He'ershingenmosiken bath soap and the countless floating glutton fish formed a speckled path of black and white across the sea, connecting the kingdom with Tomb Island.

"Don't you recognize me?" Auntie Wide said. "You're Guardian Shaded-Forest, and that, over there, is Royal Tutor Open-Field."

Both of them nodded. Open-Field said, "Auntie Wide, you're looking hale and hearty, despite the years."

"You do look like my sister." The prince smiled and held out his arms for her. But a few of his guards stopped the princess and separated the newcomers from the prince. Some had unsheathed their swords and watched the captain with suspicion. Long-Sail ignored them, but he picked up the sword the princess had dropped to examine it. In order to put the prince's jittery guards at ease, he held the sword by the tip. He saw that the trip to Tomb Island had consumed only about one-third of the He'ershingenmosiken bath soap skewered on the sword.

"You must prove the princess's identity," an old man said. His uniform, though worn and patched, was still neat. His face showed the trials of many years, but his beard was neatly trimmed. Even on this desolate island, he had clearly tried to maintain the dignity of his position as an official of the palace.

Guardian Shaded-Forest kept his expression grim. "It's been twenty years, and we have no idea what has happened back home. We must request that the princess prove her identity." He turned to the princess. "Are you willing to have your blood tested?"

The princess nodded.

"And you two have aged, as well." Auntie Wide wiped her eyes with her free hand.

"I don't think this is necessary," said the prince. "I know she's my sister."

"She is indeed Princess Dewdrop," the guardian said solemnly. Then, together with the royal tutor, they both bowed to the princess. The prince's other followers also knelt on one knee. Then they stood up and backed away, giving the royal siblings a chance to embrace.

"Your Royal Highness," said the guardian. "This must be done."

Someone brought over two tiny daggers and handed one each to Guardian Shaded-Forest and Royal Tutor Open-Field. Unlike the rusty swords worn by the prince's men, these daggers still gleamed like new. The princess held out a hand, and Shaded-Forest lightly pricked her index finger with the dagger and picked up a drop of blood with the tip of the dagger. Open-Field did the same with the prince. Then Shaded-Forest took both daggers and carefully touched the drops of blood together. The red blood instantly turned blue.

"I held you when you were little," said the prince. "Back then, you were only about this big."

A sobbing princess told the prince all that had happened in the Storyless Kingdom. The prince held her hand and listened without interrupting. His face, marked by the tribulations of twenty years, but still youthful, remained calm and steady throughout.

Everyone gathered around the prince and the princess to listen to the story, but Captain Long-Sail engaged in some odd antics. He ran some distance away on the beach to look at the prince, and then came back, before dashing away again. Finally, Aunt Wide pulled him aside.

"He is and he isn't," whispered the captain. "When you look at a regular person, the farther away he is, the smaller he appears in our eyes, right? But the prince is not like this. No matter how far away he is, he looks the same size in our eyes. This is why from far away he appears to be a giant."

Auntie Wide nodded. "I've noticed the same thing."

"I told you: Prince Deep Water is not a giant," whispered Auntie Wide.

After the princess finished her story, Prince Deep Water simply said, "Let's go back."

They took two boats. The prince joined the princess's party on the small boat; the other eight took a larger boat, the same one that had carried the prince and his followers to Tomb Island twenty years ago. The larger boat leaked, but was safe enough for a short trip. They took care to retrace the wake of the princess's boat. Although the foam had dissipated somewhat, the glutton fish remained adrift without moving much. Once in a while, one of the boats or oars would strike a floating glutton fish, but the fish only wriggled lazily out of the way without a more strenuous response. The big boat's sail was still somewhat functional, and so it sailed in front, opening up a path through the floating schools of glutton fish for the small boat.

"I think it's best if you dip the soap back into the sea for insurance. What if they wake up?" Auntie Wide nervously surveyed the drifting mass of glutton fish.

"They've remained awake -- they're not moving much because they're too comfortable. We don't have much of the soap left, and I don't want to waste any. I won't be bathing with it in the future, either."

A detachment of cavalry appeared on the shores of the kingdom. They rushed onto the beach like a dark tide. The armor and weapons of the mounted warriors gleamed in the sun.

Someone in the big boat ahead called out, "The army!"

"Keep on going," said Prince Deep Water.

Dewdrop looked at her older brother. She knew now that he was even better suited to the throne than she.

"They're here to kill us!" Blood drained from the princess's face.

As the wind was at their backs, the return trip took much less time despite the floating glutton fish bumping into the boats along the way. As both boats came onto the beach, the cavalry surrounded them like a solid wall. Both the princess and Auntie Wide were terrified, but Captain Long-Sail, who was more experienced, relaxed a bit. He saw that the soldiers all kept their swords sheathed and their lances vertical. More important, he noticed the eyes of the men: They wore heavy armor so that only their eyes were visible, but the eyes were focused beyond the fugitives at the foamy path over the sea filled with glutton fish. Long-Sail saw only awe in those eyes.

"Don't be afraid," said the prince, and lightly patted her hand.

"This is Prince Deep Water and Princess Dewdrop. Watch your words and acts!" Guardian Shaded-Forest shouted at the officer.

An officer dismounted and jogged over to the beached boats. The people on the boats disembarked, and the prince's followers unsheathed their swords and stepped between the officer and the prince and princess.

The officer knelt down on one knee and bowed his head. "We know. But our orders are to pursue and kill the princess."

"Princess Dewdrop is the heir to the throne by law! But Ice Sand is a traitor, guilty of regicide and patricide! How can you follow his orders?"

Shaded-Forest was about to say more, but Prince Deep Water stepped forward and stopped him. The prince turned to the officer. "Why don't the princess and I return to the palace with you? We'll confront Ice Sand there and resolve this once and for all."

"We know this as well, which is why we will not carry out this order. But Prince Ice Sand ascended to the throne yesterday afternoon. We… are uncertain whose orders we should obey."

"Yes, my king." Needle-Eye departed noiselessly like a rat.

"Deep Water? How did he cross the sea? Did he grow wings?" Ice Sand muttered to himself, but his face didn't show the terror and surprise evident on others'. "Don't worry. The army will not obey those two, unless I'm dead… Needle-Eye!"

The newly crowned King Ice Sand was celebrating in the most luxurious hall in the palace with those ministers who had sworn fealty to him, when messengers arrived to report that Prince Deep Water and Princess Dewdrop were speeding toward the palace at the head of an army. They would arrive in an hour. The hall instantly became silent.

"Take snow-wave paper and your brushes and ride toward Deep Water. When you see him, paint him. It will be easy. You won't need to get too close. As soon as he appears over the horizon, you'll get a good look at him."

Needle-Eye emerged from the shadows. He was still dressed in his gray cloak, and appeared even frailer than before.

"As for Dewdrop, what can a mere girl do? I'll tear that umbrella away from her." Ice Sand lifted his flagon.

The celebratory feast ended in a subdued atmosphere. The ministers left with worried expressions, and only Ice Sand remained in the empty hall.

After an unknown amount of time, Ice Sand saw Needle-Eye return. Ice Sand's heart sped up -- it wasn't because Needle-Eye's hands were empty, and it wasn't because of Needle-Eye's appearance: He looked as sensitive and careful as before. Rather, it was because Ice Sand heard Needle-Eye's footsteps. Before, the painter had always moved in complete silence, like a squirrel gliding across the floor, but now, Ice Sand heard the echoes of his loud steps, like a heartbeat that couldn't be suppressed.

"I saw Prince Deep Water," said Needle-Eye, his eyes lowered. "But I couldn't paint him."

"Did he have wings?" Ice Sand's voice was chilly.

"Even if he did, I could still capture him. I could paint each feather in his wing and make it lifelike. But, my king, the truth is more frightening than if he had sprouted wings: He does not obey the laws of perspective."

"What is perspective?"

"The principles of perspective dictate that objects farther away appear smaller than those up close. I am a painter trained in Western traditions, and Western painting follows the rules of perspective. I cannot paint him."

"Indeed. My king, look at those Eastern paintings." Needle-Eye pointed to a brush-painting landscape scroll hanging on one of the walls in the hall. The scroll showed an elegant, ethereal landscape where the negative space, the emptiness, resembled water and fog. The style contrasted sharply with the colorful, solid oil paintings nearby. "You can tell that the scroll does not obey the laws of perspective. But I never studied Eastern painting. Master Ethereal refused to teach me -- perhaps he had foreseen today."

"Are there schools of painting that do not follow the rules of perspective?"

"You may leave." Ice Sand's face was impassive.

"Of course. Deep Water will arrive at the palace soon. He will kill me, and he will kill you. But I won't wait helplessly for death. I will take my own life by painting a masterpiece with it." Needle-Eye left, again moving noiselessly.

Ice Sand's thoughts returned in a flash to his childhood more than twenty years ago. He had known that the glutton fish were amassing around Tomb Island, but he nonetheless lured Deep Water to go fishing there. Back then, their father had been in the grip of some disease, and he told Deep Water that Tomb Island was the home to a special kind of fish whose liver oil could cure the king's illness. Deep Water, normally so careful, believed him, and, as Ice Sand had wanted, left without coming back. That had always been one of Ice Sand's proudest plots, and no one in the kingdom knew the truth.

Dense hoofbeats came into the hall from the outside: at first barely audible, then growing to resemble a thunderstorm. The sounds abruptly ceased right outside the palace.

Ice Sand summoned his guards. "Bring me my sword."

Ice Sand stood up and exited the hall with his sword. He saw that Deep Water was ascending the stairs in front of the palace, and Dewdrop was behind him, with Auntie Wide next to her, holding up the umbrella. In the plaza below the stairs, the army stood in dense array. The soldiers waited quietly, not clearly showing their support for either side. When Ice Sand saw Deep Water for the first time, he seemed twice as tall as an ordinary man. But as he came closer, he seemed to shrink to a more normal size.

"My brother," said Ice Sand. "I'm glad to see you and Dewdrop. But you must understand that this is my kingdom, and I am the king. You must immediately pledge fealty to me."

Ice Sand's thoughts returned to the present. Deep Water was now on the dais at the top of the stairs, before the door to the palace. He looked as tall as a regular person.

Ice Sand chuckled. "Needle-Eye may not be able to paint you, but I can pierce your heart." He unsheathed his sword.

One of Deep Water's hands was on the grip of his rusty sword, and the other hand pointed at Ice Sand. "You have committed unforgivable crimes."

Ice Sand and Deep Water were equally skilled swordsmen, but since Deep Water didn't obey the laws of perspective, it was very hard for Ice Sand to judge accurately how far away his opponent was. The fight quickly came to an end when Deep Water's sword stabbed through Ice Sand's chest. Ice Sand tumbled down the stairs and left a long trail of blood on the stone steps.

The army cheered and declared their fealty to Prince Deep Water and Princess Dewdrop.

While Deep Water and Ice Sand struggled, Captain Long-Sail had been searching for Needle-Eye in the palace. Someone informed him that the painter had gone to his own studio, which was in a distant corner of the palace. The captain saw that only one sentry stood at the door. He had served under Long-Sail. "He came here an hour ago," said the sentry. "He's been inside since."

The captain broke down the door and stepped in.

But Long-Sail saw a painting on the easel. It had just been completed, and the paint wasn't even dry: a self-portrait of Needle-Eye. The painting truly was a masterpiece. It was like a window to another world, and Needle-Eye stood there gazing at this world. Although an uplifted corner of the snow-white paper showed that this was but a painting, the captain felt compelled to avoid the piercing gaze of the man in the painting.

The studio was windowless. The candles on the two silver candelabras had mostly burnt out, and the studio was as dim as an underground bunker. The place was empty.

Long-Sail looked around and saw other portraits hanging on the wall: the king, the queen, and the ministers loyal to them. He saw the painting of Princess Dewdrop, and the beautiful princess in the painting seemed to make this dim studio as bright as heaven. The eyes in the picture seized his soul, and he felt himself growing intoxicated. But in the end, Long-Sail came to his senses. He took down the painting, tossed away the frame, and lit the rolled-up scroll with one of the candles.

"I told her to stay outside; I have some things I want to say… just to you."

The captain looked at the princess and let out a long sigh of relief. He turned to the ashes. "It's too bad. The portrait was lovely, and I would have liked you to see it. But I dared not delay… it was really, really beautiful."

Just as the flames consumed the painting, the door to the studio opened and the real Princess Dewdrop came in. She was still dressed in the garb of a commoner, and she held up the spinning black umbrella by herself.

"Where's Auntie Wide?"

The princess slowed down the spinning, and the umbrella began to cry like a nightingale. As the canopy fell, the cries grew louder and faster, until they resembled the screams of jackdaws -- the final warning before the advent of Death. Then the umbrella closed and the stone spheres at the rim collided together in a series of sharp snaps.

"Your portrait is gone." Long-Sail pointed to the still-glowing ashes on the ground. "You don't need the umbrella anymore."

The princess was unharmed.

"Prettier than me?"

"It was you."

"What? But Prince Deep Water already announced that your coronation is tomorrow. He pledged to aid you with all his heart."

The princess retrieved the two bars of He'ershingenmosiken bath soap. She let go, and the weightless, white bars floated in the air like feathers.

"That life is full of danger and hardship."

"I'm not afraid." The princess's eyes glowed with the spark of life in the candlelight. Long-Sail felt everything around him growing brighter again.

"I'm going to leave the kingdom and sail the seas. Will you come with me?" asked the princess.

The princess shook her head. "My brother is more suited to be king than I. And if he hadn't been imprisoned on Tomb Island, he ought to have inherited the throne. When he's the king, he can stand somewhere high in the palace, and the entire kingdom can see him. But I don't want to be a queen. I like the outside more than the palace. I don't want to live the rest of my life in the Storyless Kingdom. I want to go where there are stories."

Thereafter, no one in the kingdom knew what happened to Princess Dewdrop and Long-Sail. As a matter of fact, the kingdom never received any information of the outside world. The princess had taken away the last bars of He'ershingenmosiken bath soap, and no one could break through the barriers formed by the schools of glutton fish. But no one complained. The people were used to their serene lives. After this story, there were never any other stories in the Storyless Kingdom.

"Then we'll be the last two to leave the kingdom." The princess reached out and grabbed the two floating bars of soap.

"Yes, with snow-white sails."

But sometimes, late at night, some would tell stories that were not stories: imagined lives of Princess Dewdrop and Long-Sail. Everyone imagined different things, but all agreed that they journeyed to many exotic, mysterious kingdoms, including continents as vast as the sea. They lived ever after in wandering and trekking, and no matter where they went, they were happily together.

The next morning, on a beach somewhere in the kingdom, people saw a white sail appear in the sea. Behind the sail was a long wake of cloudlike foam. It headed away from the kingdom by the light of the rising sun.

"I'm not afraid, either. Princess, I will follow you to the end of the sea, to the end of the world."

"We'll take a sailboat."

"That princess is a lot like you," said AA to Cheng Xin.

[Broadcast Era, Year 7, Yun Tianming's Fairy Tales]

In the sophon-free room, those who had finished reading began to talk amongst themselves, though most were still absorbed in the world of the Storyless Kingdom, the sea, the princess and the princes. Some remained deep in thought; some stared at the document, as though hoping to glean more meaning from the cover.

"Try to focus on the serious business here… and am I really that delicate?! I would have held up the umbrella myself." Cheng Xin was the only one who didn't bother reading the document. The stories were seared into her memory. She had, of course, wondered many times if Princess Dewdrop was modeled in some measure on herself. But the captain of the guards didn't resemble Yun Tianming.

Does he think I'm going to sail away somehow? With another man?

Once the chair noticed that everyone present had finished reading, he asked for opinions -- mainly suggested directions for next steps to be taken by the various working groups under the IDC.

The speaker was a writer of children's stories. "I know that from now on, my group is unlikely to make any useful contributions. But I wanted to say a few words first." He lifted the blue-covered document. "I'm sorry to say that I don't believe this message can ever be deciphered."

The committee member representing the literary analysis group asked to speak first. This group had been a last-minute addition, composed mainly of writers and scholars of Common Era literature. It was thought that there might be a minuscule chance -- unlikely though it was -- that they could be of use.

"Why do you say that?" asked the chair.

"To be clear, we're trying to ascertain the strategic direction of humanity's struggles for the future. If this message really exists, no matter what it is, it must have a concrete meaning. We can't take vague, ambiguous information and turn it into strategic directions. But vagueness and ambiguity are at the heart of literary expression. Out of security considerations, I'm sure the true meaning behind these three stories is buried very deeply, and this makes the interpretations even more vague and ambiguous. The difficulty we are facing isn't that we can't get anything useful out of these three stories, but that there are too many plausible interpretations, and we can't be certain of any of them.

"Let me say something else that's not directly relevant here. As a writer, I want to express my respect for the author. As fairy tales, these are very good."

The next day, the IDC's work of deciphering Yun Tianming's message began in earnest. Very soon, everyone came to appreciate the warning by the children's story writer.

The three tales of Yun Tianming were rich in metaphors and symbolism; every detail could be interpreted in multiple ways, and each interpretation could find some support, but it was impossible to tell which one was the message intended by the author, and thus it was impossible to take any interpretation as strategic intelligence.

For instance, the idea of painting people into pictures was, by consensus, a rather obvious metaphor. But experts in different fields could not agree on a single interpretation. Some believed that the paintings were a reference to the digitization trend in the modern world, and thus this detail in the story suggested that humans should also be digitized as a way to avoid dark forest strikes. Scholars who held this view also noted that those who had been painted into the paintings were no longer able to harm those in the real world, and so digitizing humanity was perhaps a way to promulgate the cosmic safety notice.

But another camp held that the paintings were intended to suggest special dimensions. The real world and the world of the paintings were of different dimensionalities, and when a person was painted, that person disappeared from three-dimensional space. This brought to mind the experiences of Blue Space and Gravity in the four-dimensional fragment, and so perhaps Tianming had intended to suggest that humanity could use four-dimensional space as a refuge, or broadcast the cosmic safety notice in some manner through four-dimensional space. Some scholars pointed to Prince Deep Water's violations of the rules of perspective as further evidence that the author meant four-dimensional space.

As another example, what was the meaning of the glutton fish? Some focused on their large numbers, their habit of remaining hidden, and their fierce, aggressive tendency, and reached the conclusion that they symbolized cosmic civilization as a whole in the dark forest state. The soap that allowed the glutton fish to feel so comfortable as to forget to attack represented some unknown principles behind the cosmic safety notice.

This explanation, dubbed the Shoaling Interpretation, was given more attention than other competing interpretations. Compared to the other hypotheses, the Shoaling Interpretation offered a relatively clear technical framework and became one of the first interpretations to be treated as an in-depth research topic by the World Academy of Sciences. But the IDC never put too much hope in the Shoaling Interpretation -- although the idea seemed technically feasible, further study revealed that it would take tens of thousands of years for the self-replicating "shoals of fish" to form a barrier around the Solar System. Moreover, the limited functionality of AI machines meant that the protective and safety notice functions of the barrier were at best impractical visions. Ultimately, the Shoaling Interpretation had to be abandoned.

Others, however, reached the opposite conclusion: They believed that the glutton fish represented intelligent machines that must be built by humankind. These machines would be small in size and capable of self-replication. Once released into space, the machines would use the matter found in the Kuiper Belt or the Oort Cloud to self-replicate in large numbers until they formed an intelligent barrier around the Solar System. The barrier could have multiple functions, e. g., intercepting photoids headed for the Sun, or altering the appearance of the Solar System from a distance in a manner that would achieve the goal of a cosmic safety notice.

Just like the writer of children's literature had said, all these explanations seemed justifiable, but it was impossible to ascertain which one was really meant.

Countless competing interpretations were also offered for the spinning umbrella, the mysterious snow-wave paper and obsidian slab, the He'ershingenmosiken bath soap…

Tianming had told Cheng Xin his stories in Chinese. People noticed that most of the place names and names of the characters had clear meanings in Chinese: the Storyless Kingdom, the Glutton's Sea, Tomb Island, Princess Dewdrop, Prince Ice Sand, Prince Deep Water, Needle-Eye, Master Ethereal, Captain Long-Sail, Auntie Wide, etc. However, mixed in was also this other name that appeared to be a phonetic transcription of the name of a foreign place. Not only was it strange phonetically for Chinese, it was also really long. The name also appeared repeatedly in the story in a way that clearly suggested something out of the ordinary: Needle-Eye and Master Ethereal had come from He'ershingenmosiken; the snow-wave paper they used also came from He'ershingenmosiken; the obsidian slab and iron used for pressing the paper were also of He'ershingenmosiken; Captain Long-Sail had been born in He'ershingenmosiken; the bath soap of He'ershingenmosiken; the glutton fish of He'ershingenmosiken… The author seemed to be repeatedly emphasizing the importance of this name, but there was no detailed description of He'ershingenmosiken at all. Was it another large island like the Storyless Kingdom? A continent? An archipelago?

They referred to the strange place name in the stories: He'ershingenmosiken.

It was not the case, however, that all the contents of the three stories were so vague and ambiguous. The IDC experts were certain that at least one detail in the story offered a concrete piece of intelligence, and was perhaps the key to unlocking the secrets of Yun Tianming's message.

Scholars tried to spell the name in all the world's known languages, to seek help from all fields, to search for it on the web and in all kinds of specialized databases, but nothing came of these efforts. Before this name, the most brilliant minds of humanity in various fields of study stood helpless.

The leaders of the various teams asked Cheng Xin: Was she sure she had remembered the pronunciation of the name correctly? Cheng Xin was unequivocal: She had noticed right away how strange the name sounded, and paid special attention to memorize it correctly. The name also appeared repeatedly in the story, and it was impossible that she had gotten it wrong.

Experts weren't even sure what language the name came from. When Yun Tianming had left on the Staircase probe, his English proficiency wasn't great, and he didn't know a third language -- but it was possible that he had learned another language later. The name didn't resemble English, and it wasn't even clear if the name belonged to some Romance language. Of course the name couldn't be Trisolaran, since the Trisolaran language wasn't spoken or expressed by sounds.

The IDC's analysis made no progress. Such difficulties were not entirely unexpected: If humans could easily decipher Yun Tianming's stories for strategic intelligence, then so could the Trisolarans. The real intelligence information must be hidden deep. The experts in the various teams were exhausted, and the static electricity and acrid odor in the sophon-free room made them irritable. Each team was divided into multiple factions who argued over competing interpretations without reaching consensus.

As the decipherment effort reached an impasse, doubts began to creep into the hearts of those in the IDC. Did the three stories really contain meaningful strategic intelligence? The suspicion was mainly directed at Yun Tianming himself. After all, he had only an undergraduate degree dating back to the Common Era, which meant that he had less knowledge than a contemporary middle school student. In his pre-mission life, he had mostly worked on routine, entry-level tasks, without any experience in conducting advanced scientific research or reasoning about novel fundamental scientific theories. Of course, after he was captured and cloned, he had plenty of opportunity for study, but the experts were doubtful whether he could understand the supertechnology of the Trisolarans, especially the basic theories that supported such technology.

But the lack of progress by the IDC also had a positive effect: It forced people to give up the illusion of a miracle. In actuality, the public had long ago stopped believing in the miracle, since they didn't even know of the existence of Yun Tianming's message. The political pressure exerted by the populace forced Fleet International and the UN to shift their attention from Yun Tianming's message to searching for ways to preserve Earth civilization based on known technologies.

Even worse, as the days went on, some unavoidable complexities began to creep into the IDC. At first, everyone strove to solve the riddle for the future of humanity as a whole. But later, various political forces and interest groups began to make themselves felt: Fleet International, the UN, the various nation states, multinational corporations, religions, and so on. All of these groups tried to interpret the stories according to their own political aims and self-interest, and treated the work of interpretation as just another opportunity to disseminate propaganda about their brand of politics. The stories turned into empty baskets capable of carrying any goods. The work of the IDC changed, and the debates between the various factions became politicized and utilitarian, which lowered morale.

Viewed at the scale of the cosmos, the destruction of Trisolaris had occurred right next door, giving humans a chance to observe in detail the complete process of the extinction of a star and to gather massive amounts of data. Since the star that was destroyed was very similar to the Sun in terms of mass and position in the main sequence, humanity could potentially create a precise mathematical model of the catastrophic failure of the Sun in the event of a dark forest strike. As a matter of fact, this research had begun in earnest as soon as those on Earth had witnessed the end of Trisolaris. The direct result of research in this direction was the Bunker Project, which took the place of Yun Tianming's message as the focus of international attention.

[Excerpt from A Past Outside of Time, The Bunker Project: An Ark for Earth Civilization]

I. Projected timeframe from exposure of Earth's coordinates to dark forest strike against the planet: optimistic scenario, one hundred to one hundred fifty years. Average scenario: fifty to eighty years. Pessimistic scenario: ten to thirty years. Plans for the survival of the human race used seventy years as a benchmark.

II. Total number of individuals who would need to be saved: Based on the rate of decrease in world population, the number would be six hundred to eight hundred million in seventy years.

III. Projected course of the anticipated dark forest strike: Using data from the destruction of Trisolaris's star, a mathematical model of the explosion of what would happen to the Sun if struck in the same way was constructed. Simulations based on the model showed that if the Sun were struck by a photoid, all terrestrial planets within the orbit of Mars would be destroyed. Immediately after the strike, Mercury and Venus would be vaporized. The Earth would retain some of its mass and keep a spherical form, but a five-hundred-kilometer surface layer, including all of the crust and part of the mantle, would be stripped away. Mars would lose a layer about one hundred kilometers thick. Later, all the remaining terrestrial planets would lose velocity due to the material released by the solar explosion and crash into the surviving core of the Sun.

The model indicated that the destructive force of the solar explosion -- including radiation and impact from solar material -- would be inversely proportional to the square of the distance from the Sun. That is, the destructive force would diminish rapidly for objects far enough from the Sun. This would allow the Jovian planets to survive the explosion.

The four gas giants, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune, would survive a dark forest strike relatively unscathed. This prediction was the fundamental premise for the Bunker Project.

During the initial phase of the strike, the surface of Jupiter would be greatly disturbed, but its overall structure would be undamaged, including its satellites. The surfaces of Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune would also be disturbed without deeper damage. The dissipating ejected solar material would slow the orbits of the planets down to some degree, but later, as the solar material formed into a spiraling nebula, the angular velocity of its spin would match that of the Jovian planets and not degrade the orbits of those planets further.

As any plan along these lines could ensure the survival of only an extremely small portion of the total population, it violated the fundamental values and moral principles of the human race. Politically, it was also unfeasible, as it could lead to massive social upheaval and the total collapse of society.

2. Long-distance Avoidance Plan: extremely low feasibility. This plan would involve constructing a human habitat at sufficient distance from the Sun to avoid its explosive destructive power. Based on the model and projected development of engineering techniques for hardening space cities in the foreseeable future, the minimum safe distance would be sixty AU from the Sun, which is beyond the Kuiper Belt. At that distance, few resources would be available in space for constructing a space city. Similarly, the lack of resources meant that even if such a city were built, it would be almost impossible to maintain for human occupation.

IV. Abandoned plans for the survival of the human race

1. Stellar Escape Plan: technically impossible. Humanity could not gain large-scale stellar navigation capabilities within the timeframe required. No more than one-thousandth of the overall population could fit into stellar escape arks. Moreover, it was highly unlikely that such arks would be able to locate and reach habitable exoplanets prior to fuel exhaustion and permanent breakdowns in long-term life support and ecological cycling systems.

V. The Bunker Project: the four gas giants could be used as barriers to avoid the solar explosion from a dark forest strike. In the shade of the four planets, away from the sun, sufficient space habitats would be constructed to house the entirety of the human population. These space cities would be located next to the planets, but would not be their satellites. Instead, they would orbit the Sun in synchrony with the planets, staying within their shadows. The plan called for a total of fifty space cities, each of which was capable of housing about fifteen million individuals. Specifically, twenty cities would be shielded by Jupiter, twenty by Saturn, six by Uranus, and four by Neptune.

VI. Technical challenges facing the Bunker Project: The technology required by this plan had all been mastered by humanity. Fleet International possessed extensive experience constructing space cities, and there was already a sizable base around Jupiter. There were some technical challenges that could be overcome within the required timeframe, such as how to regulate the positions of the space cities. Since the space cities would not be satellites of the gas giants, but would have to stay in close proximity of the planets, they would fall toward the planets, unless propulsion systems were installed to counteract gravity and maintain their distance from them. Initially, the plan called for the space cities to be positioned at the L2 Lagrangian points, such that the space cities' orbital periods would match their respective gas giants' without needing to expend much energy. However, it was later discovered that the L2 Lagrangian points would be too far away from the gas giants to provide sufficient protection.

VII. The survival of the human race in the Solar System after a dark forest strike: After the destruction of the Sun, the space cities would rely on nuclear fusion as their energy source. By then, the Solar System would appear as a spiral nebula, and the scattered solar material would provide an inexhaustible supply of easily collectable fusion material. It should also be possible to gather more fusion fuel from the remaining core of the Sun, sufficient to ensure humanity's long-term energy needs. Every space city could be equipped with its own artificial sun that would generate an amount of energy equivalent to the amount that had reached the surface of the Earth before the strike. From an energy efficiency point of view, the energy supply available to humans would actually be orders of magnitude higher than the pre-strike period because the space cities would consume fusion fuel at only one-billion-billionth the rate of the Sun. In that sense, the extinction of the Sun would be an improvement, because it would stop the extremely wasteful consumption of fusion material in the Solar System.

Thus, the post-strike Solar System nebula was capable of supporting over ten billion people in comfort, leaving human civilization plenty of room for development.

Once the nebula had stabilized somewhat after the dark forest strike, all the space cities could leave their barrier planets and find more suitable locations within the Solar System. It might be advisable for them to depart from the ecliptic plane so that they could avoid disturbance from the nebula while being able to dip into it for resources. Since the solar explosion would destroy the terrestrial planets, the mineral resources of the Solar System would be scattered in the nebula, making them easier to collect. This would make it possible for more space cities to be constructed. The only projected resource limitation on the number of space cities was water, but there was a 160-kilometer-deep ocean covering Europa, providing a source of water greater in volume than the Earth's oceans, and capable of supplying a thousand space cities with individual populations ranging from ten to twenty million. More water could also be obtained from the nebula itself.

IX. Overall program for the Bunker Project: It would take twenty years to build the industrial infrastructure for extracting and exploiting resources from the gas giants, and sixty years to construct the space cities. The two stages would overlap by ten years.

VIII. Impact on international relations from the Bunker Project: It was an unprecedented plan for the entire human race to construct a new world. The greatest barrier standing in its way wasn't technical, but a matter of international politics. The public was worried that the Bunker Project would exhaust the Earth's resources and reverse global progress in social welfare, politics, and economics, perhaps even leading to a second Great Ravine. But Fleet International and the UN were in agreement that such danger could be avoided. The Bunker Project was to be engineered entirely with resources from the Solar System outside the Earth, mainly from the satellites of the four Jovian planets and the rings of Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. There should be no drain on Earth resources or its economy. In fact, once development of space resources reached a certain stage, the project might even enhance the Earth's economy.

[Broadcast Era, Year 7, Yun Tianming's Fairy Tales]

As preparations for the Bunker Project got underway, Yun Tianming faded from the public consciousness. The IDC continued to work on deciphering the message, but it was only treated as one of the PDC's many projects. The hope for retrieving important strategic intelligence from the stories diminished daily. Some members of the IDC even connected the Bunker Project with Yun Tianming's fairy tales and came up with several interpretations that pointed to that as the right plan. For instance, the umbrella was naturally read as a hint at some defensive structure. Someone pointed out that the stone spheres at the rim of the canopy could symbolize the Jovian planets, but there were only four planets within the Solar System capable of acting as barriers. Tianming's stories did not mention the number of ribs in the canopy, but, rationally, four ribs for an umbrella seemed rather low. Of course, not many people really believed this interpretation, but in some sense, Tianming's stories had now acquired a status akin to the Bible. Without realizing it, people were no longer searching for real strategic intelligence, but reassurance that they were already on the right course.

X. The possibility of a second dark forest strike: The results of the first dark forest strike should convince most distant observers that the Solar System was lifeless. Simultaneously, as a result of the destruction of the Sun, the Solar System would no longer contain an energy source capable of supporting an economical attack from a distance. Thus, the possibility of a second dark forest strike seemed minute. The conditions of 187J3X1 after its destruction also provided support for this view.

Then came the unexpected breakthrough in interpreting the stories.

"I want a bar of bath soap," said AA.

One day, 艾 AA came to see Cheng Xin. She had long ceased to accompany Cheng Xin to the IDC meetings, but devoted all her energy to the pursuit of involving the Halo Group in the Bunker Project. Building a new world outside the orbit of Jupiter represented a limitless opportunity for a space construction company. And wasn't it fortuitous that the company was named the Halo Group when the "halos" of the Jovian planets would provide much of the resources for constructing the space cities?

Cheng Xin ignored her. Her eyes didn't leave the e-book in front of her, and she asked AA a question about fusion physics. After her awakening, she had devoted herself to the study of modern science. Common Era spaceflight technologies had all disappeared by this point, and even a tiny shuttlecraft now relied on nuclear fusion propulsion. Cheng Xin had to begin with basic physics, but she made rapid progress. As a matter of fact, the gap of years didn't impose too high a barrier in her studies: Most of the shifts in fundamental theory had occurred only after the start of the Deterrence Era. With some diligence, most scientists and engineers from the Common Era could once again adapt to their chosen professions.

AA turned off Cheng Xin's book. "Give me bath soap!"

"I don't have any. You understand that actual bath soap doesn't have the magic of those fairy tales, right?" What Cheng Xin really meant was for AA to stop acting so childish.

"I know. But I like bubbles. I want to take a bubble bath like the princess!"

Modern baths had nothing to do with bubbles. Soap and other similar toiletries had disappeared more than a century ago. Contemporary bathing practices involved two methods: supersonic waves and cleaning agents. Cleaning agents were nanorobots invisible to the naked eye. One could use them with or without water. They cleaned skin and other surfaces instantaneously.

Cheng Xin had to go with AA to shop for bath soap. Whenever she had been depressed in the past, AA often dragged her out like this to cheer her up.

Faced with the giant forest that was the city, they pondered their choices and decided in the end that the most likely place to find bath soap was a museum. They succeeded in their quest in a city history museum's exhibit hall dedicated to the daily necessities of Common Era life: home appliances, clothing, furniture, etc. These objects were well preserved, and some even looked brand new. Mentally, Cheng Xin couldn't accept that these were artifacts from centuries ago; to her, they seemed to be from just yesterday. Although so much had happened since she was first awakened, this new age still felt like a dream to her. Her spirit had stubbornly been living in the past.

"That's enough money to build a small factory for cleaning products," said Cheng Xin to AA.

The museum director initially claimed that the bath soap was a precious artifact and not for sale, but then he proceeded to name an outrageous price.

"So? I've been working for you for years as the CEO. You should give me a present. And who knows? Maybe it will appreciate in value in the future."

The bath soap was in a display case along with other cleaning products such as laundry detergent. Cheng Xin stared at the translucent bar and saw the familiar eagle logo carved into the soap: product of the Nice Group. It was pure white, just like the soap in the story.

"It's the soap factory.

"What is a factory for cleaning products?"

And so they bought the bath soap. Cheng Xin had suggested that if AA really wanted a bubble bath, then it would be better to buy the bottle of bubble bath liquid. But AA insisted on the soap because the princess used soap. After the bar of bath soap was carefully retrieved from the display case, Cheng Xin held it and noticed that, despite the passage of more than two centuries, the soap still gave off a faint fragrance.

After returning home, AA ripped off the packaging and went into the bathroom with the soap. Then came the sound of the tub being filled.

AA didn't respond. A long time later, after the water stopped, the bathroom door opened. Cheng Xin saw that AA was still dressed. Waving a white sheet of paper at Cheng Xin, AA asked, "Do you know how to make an origami boat?"

Cheng Xin knocked on the door. "I suggest you don't bathe with it. The soap is alkaline. Since you've never used it, your skin might be damaged."

"I suppose this is also a lost art?" asked Cheng Xin as she took the paper.

Cheng Xin sat down and began to fold. Her thoughts returned to that drizzly afternoon in college. She and Tianming sat by the reservoir and watched as the tiny paper boat she made drifted away on the water covered by mist and rain. Then she thought about the white sail at the end of Tianming's stories…

"Obviously. We hardly see paper now."

AA picked up the canopied paper boat and admired it. Then she indicated that Cheng Xin should follow her into the bathroom. With a pocketknife, she cut off a tiny corner from the bar of soap, poked a hole in the stern of the boat, and stuck the soap fragment into the hole. After giving Cheng Xin a mysterious smile, she deposited the boat into the calm water in the bathtub.

The boat began to move by itself, sailing from one edge of the tub to the other.

The string of her thought stopped vibrating immediately, as though a hand had been placed against it. Cheng Xin forced herself to look away from the boat, maintaining, as much as possible, a look of boredom and disinterest. The boat had now reached the other edge of the tub and stopped. She picked it out of the tub, shook off the water, and dropped it on the washstand. She almost tossed the boat into the toilet to flush it away, but thought that might appear excessive. She made up her mind, however, to not put the boat in water again.

Cheng Xin understood right away. As the soap dissolved in the water, it lowered the surface tension of the water behind the boat. But as the tension in the water in front of the boat remained unchanged, it pulled the boat forward.

A bolt of lightning seemed to illuminate Cheng Xin's thoughts. In her eyes, the serene surface of the water in the tub turned into the darkness of space, and the white paper boat sailed across this endless sea at the speed of light…

Then Cheng Xin remembered something else: Tianming's safety.

Danger.

AA followed. They poured themselves two glasses of wine and began to chat about random topics. First, they discussed the future of the Halo Group in the Bunker Project. Then they recalled their college lives in different centuries. Then they talked about life in the present. AA asked Cheng Xin why she had not found a man she liked after living in the new age for so long, and Cheng Xin replied that she couldn't live a regular life, not yet. Then she pointed out that AA's problem was that she dated too many men -- of course she was welcome to bring her boyfriends to visit Cheng Xin, but it was best to bring only one at a time. They also discussed the fashions and tastes of the women of their respective eras, their similarities and differences…

Though Cheng Xin also leaned to the view that no sophons were present in the Solar System, it was better to be cautious.

Cheng Xin and AA locked gazes. They each saw in the eyes of the other the same thing: the excitement of enlightenment dancing within. Cheng Xin looked away. "I don't have time to waste on silly games. If you want a bubble bath, go for it." She left the bathroom.

AA nodded. Her eyes said, Yes, curvature propulsion!

Language was merely the vehicle through which they expressed their excitement. They dared not stop, lest the silence rob them of their hidden joy. Finally, in a break in the meandering conversation that would not be noticed by a listener, Cheng Xin said, "Curvature --"

She finished her sentence with her eyes: propulsion?

Space wasn't flat, but curved. If one imagined the universe as a large, thin membrane, the surface would be shaped like a bowl. The entire membrane might even be an enclosed bubble. Though at the local scale, the membrane seemed flat, the curvature of space was omnipresent.

[Excerpt from A Past Outside of Time, Motion Through Bending Space]

During the Common Era, many ambitious ideas for spaceflight were proposed. One of them involved folding space. The idea was to imagine an increase in the curvature of space and fold it like a sheet of paper so that two spots tens of millions of light-years apart could touch each other. Strictly speaking, this wasn't a plan for spaceflight, but "space-dragging." It didn't involve navigating to the destination, but pulling the destination over to you by bending space.

Until Yun Tianming's message had been correctly interpreted, curvature propulsion remained a dream, like hundreds of other proposals for lightspeed spaceflight. No one knew whether it was possible at either a theory or practice level.

Later, there was a more moderate and localized proposal for taking advantage of curved space for navigation. Supposing a spaceship could somehow iron flat the space behind it and decrease its curvature, the more curved space in front of it would pull it forward. This was the idea of curvature propulsion.

Only God could have carried out such a plan -- and once the limitations of basic theory were taken into account, perhaps not even God.

Unlike folding space, curvature propulsion couldn't get a spaceship to its destination instantaneously, but it would be possible to drive it asymptotically to the speed of light.

A jubilant AA said to Cheng Xin, "Before the Deterrence Era, clothes with animated images were popular. Back then, everyone looked like blinking Christmas trees, but now, only children dress like that. Classical looks are in vogue again."

[Broadcast Era, Year 7, Yun Tianming's Fairy Tales]

Her eyes were saying, No, AA, this time it's different. We can be sure.

"Well, at least you had cheap aluminum. Before the invention of electrolysis, aluminum was a precious metal as well. I've heard that some kings even had crowns made of aluminum."

But AA's eyes were saying something else entirely. Her eyes dimmed. This interpretation looks very good, but it's still impossible to be certain. We can never get confirmation.

Cheng Xin said, "I'm most surprised that precious metals and gems no longer exist! Gold is now a common metal, and both of our drinking glasses are made of diamonds… Did you know that where -- er, when -- I come from, owning a tiny diamond -- like this big -- would have been an unattainable dream for most girls."

How can we be sure?

Cheng Xin couldn't express what she wanted with only her eyes. IDC had once offered to build her a sophon-free room in her apartment. That would have involved a large amount of noisy equipment, so she had turned them down. Now she regretted that decision.

AA's eyes lit up again. The flame of excitement burned even brighter than before.

"Snow-wave paper," she whispered.

"There's really nothing else that will flatten this?"

"Yes," AA said. They needed to get to the nearest sophon-free room.

"No. Only the obsidian from He'ershingenmosiken will do the job. I was hoping to get the obsidian slab back from Needle-Eye."

The clock in the corner of the room sounded. Ethereal looked up and saw it was almost sunrise. He looked down and saw that only about a palm's width of the snow-wave paper lay flat on the floor, not enough for a painting. He dropped the iron and sighed.

"Let's go," said Cheng Xin as she got up.

A scroll was a rolled-up sheet of paper with curvature; a section was pulled out and ironed flat, decreasing the curvature.

Two days later, the IDC chair announced at a committee meeting that the heads of all the working groups had unanimously endorsed the curvature propulsion interpretation.

This was clearly a hint for the difference in space in front of and behind a ship driven by curvature propulsion. It couldn't mean anything else.

Yun Tianming was telling the Earth that the Trisolaran ships used space curvature drives.

This was an extremely important piece of strategic intelligence. Out of all the possible paths for researching lightspeed spaceflight, curvature propulsion was confirmed to be feasible. Like a beacon in dark night, this indicated the right direction for further development of human spaceflight technology.

Equally important was the fact that the interpretation provided the model for how Tianming had hidden his message in the three stories. He employed two basic methods: dual-layer metaphors and two-dimensional metaphors.

The dual-layer metaphors in the stories did not directly point to the real meaning, but to something far simpler. The tenor of this first metaphor became the vehicle for a second metaphor, which pointed to the real intelligence. In the current example, the princess's boat, the He'ershingenmosiken soap, and the Glutton's Sea formed a metaphor for a paper boat driven by soap. The paper boat, in turn, pointed to curvature propulsion. Previous attempts at decipherment had failed largely due to people's habitual belief that the stories only involved a single layer of metaphors to hide the real message.

"A subtle and sophisticated system," a PIA specialist said admiringly.

The two-dimensional metaphors were a technique used to resolve the ambiguities introduced by literary devices employed in conveying strategic intelligence. After a dual-layer metaphor, a single-layer supporting metaphor was added to confirm the meaning of the dual-layer metaphor. In the current example, the curved snow-wave paper and the ironing required to flatten it served as a metaphor for curved space, confirming the interpretation of the soap-driven boat. If one viewed the stories as a two-dimensional plane, the dual-layer metaphor only provided one coordinate; the supporting single-layer metaphor provided a second coordinate that fixed the interpretation on the plane. Thus, this single-layer metaphor was also called the bearing coordinate. Viewed by itself, the bearing coordinate seemed meaningless, but once combined with the dual-layer metaphor, it resolved the inherent ambiguities in literary language.

All the committee members congratulated Cheng Xin and AA. AA, who had always been looked down on, saw her status greatly elevated among the committee members.

Thereafter, steady progress was made in deciphering the message. Other than the discovery of the metaphorical system, the effort was also aided by another guess that was commonly accepted, though unconfirmed: While the first part of the message to be successfully deciphered involved escape from the Solar System, the rest of the message likely had to do with the safety notice.

Cheng Xin's eyes moistened. She was thinking of Tianming, of the man who struggled alone in the long night of outer space and an eerie, sinister alien society. To convey his important message to the human race, he must have racked his brain until he had devised such a metaphorical system, and then spent ages in his lonely existence to create over a hundred fairy tales and carefully disguise the intelligence report in three of those stories. Three centuries ago, he had given Cheng Xin a star; now, he brought hope to the human race.

The interpreters soon realized that compared to the first bit of intelligence, the rest of the information hidden in the three stories was far more complex.

At the next IDC meeting, the chair produced a custom-made umbrella that looked just like the one in the fairy tales. The black umbrella had eight ribs, and at the end of each was a small stone sphere. In this era, umbrellas were no longer in common use. To avoid the rain, modern people used something called a rainshield, a device about the size of a flashlight that protected the user by blowing air up to form an invisible canopy. People certainly knew about umbrellas and saw them in movies, but few had experience with the real thing. Curious, they played with the chair's umbrella, and noticed that, just like in the stories, the canopy could be kept open by spinning. Spinning faster or slower resulted in corresponding alarm sounds.

AA took over the umbrella. Her hands weren't as strong, and the canopy began to fall. They all heard the warning birdsong.

"This is really tiring," someone complained as he spun the umbrella. Everyone gained new respect for the princess's wet nurse, who'd managed to spin the umbrella nonstop for a whole day.

"Faster," said Cheng Xin.

AA put all her strength into spinning, and the wind chime began to play. Then Cheng Xin asked her to slow down, until the birdsong appeared. This went back and forth a few times.

"Yes," said an excited Cao. "But even in our time, this was rarely seen."

"This is not an umbrella at all!" said Cheng Xin. "But I know what it is now."

Bi Yunfeng shook his head. "The world wasn't electrified back when this was invented."

AA spun faster, and the birdsong stopped.

Some of the attendees looked at these three individuals from the past; others looked at the umbrella. All were puzzled, but also expectant.

Cao Bin explained. "This was a device from the eighteenth century for regulating the speed of a steam engine. It's made of two or four lever arms equipped with spherical masses at the ends and a central spindle with a sleeve -- it looks just like this umbrella, except with fewer ribs. The steam engine's operation rotates the spindle. When it spins too fast, the metal balls lift the lever arms due to centrifugal force, which pulls up on the sleeve and reduces the aperture of the throttle valve connected to the sleeve, thereby reducing the fluid entering the cylinder and the engine's speed. Conversely, when it spins too slowly, the lever arms fall due to the weight of the metal balls -- like an umbrella closing -- and the sleeve is pushed down, increasing the aperture of the throttle valve and the speed of the engine… This was one of the earliest industrial automatic control systems."

"What's that? Some kind of control circuit?"

"It's a centrifugal governor," said Cheng Xin. "For steam engines."

Bi Yunfeng, who stood to the side, nodded. "Me too." Then he turned to Cao Bin. "Probably only the three of us can recognize this object."

Cheng Xin had kept her eyes on the umbrella since the chair had opened it. Now she cried out to AA, "Don't stop!"

The interpreters began to look for the corresponding bearing coordinate for this dual-layer metaphor. Soon, they fixed on Prince Deep Water. The prince's height didn't change in the observers' eyes regardless of distance. This could also be interpreted in multiple ways, with two possibilities being most obvious: a method of information transmission where the signal strength did not decay due to distance, or a physical quantity that remained constant regardless of the frame of reference used.

Taken together with the metaphorical meanings of the umbrella, the true meaning instantly emerged: a constant speed that did not change with the frame of reference.

Clearly, it referred to the speed of light.

Thus was the first level of the dual-layer metaphor in the umbrella decoded. But unlike the soap-propelled boat, the centrifugal governor didn't seem to clearly point to anything. This second-layer metaphor could be interpreted in multiple ways, with two possibilities deemed most likely: negative-feedback automatic control and constant speed.

The fastest; with no weight, or massless -- this was a clear, single-layer metaphor for light.

The He'ershingenmosiken bath soap is made from those bubbles, but collecting the bubbles is no easy matter. The bubbles drift very fast in the wind… Only if someone were running as fast as the bubbles, such that they're at rest relative to the bubbles, would they be able to see them. This is possible only by riding the fastest horses… The soap-makers ride these horses to chase after the wind and try to collect the bubbles with a thin gauze net… The bubbles have no weight, which is why pure, authentic He'ershingenmosiken soap also has no weight. It's the lightest substance in the world…

Unexpectedly, the interpreters found yet another bearing coordinate for the metaphor of the umbrella.

Everything indicated that the umbrella stood in for light, but capturing the bubbles from the bubble tree had two possible interpretations: collecting the power of light or lowering the speed of light.

Most interpreters didn't think the first interpretation had much to do with humanity's strategic goals, so most of the focus was on the second interpretation.

"Suppose that we could lower the speed of light in the Solar System. That is, within the Kuiper Belt or Neptune's orbit, we could produce an effect observable from a distance -- at cosmic scales."

This thought excited everyone.

Although they still couldn't tell the exact meaning of the message, the interpreters debated the second interpretation, concentrating on the connection between lowering the speed of light and the cosmic safety notice.

"Suppose we reduced the speed of light by ten percent within the Solar System -- would that make a cosmic observer think we're safer?"

"Undoubtedly. If humans possessed lightspeed spaceships, it would take them longer to emerge from the Solar System. But it wouldn't mean that much."

"To really indicate to the universe that we're safe, a reduction by ten percent is insufficient. We may have to reduce the speed of light to ten percent of its original value, or maybe even one percent. Observers would see that we've surrounded ourselves in a buffer zone that made certain that our ships would take a long time to emerge from the Solar System. This should increase their feelings of safety."

"But by that reasoning, lowering the speed of light to one-tenth of one percent would be insufficient. Think about it: Even at three hundred kilometers per second, it still wouldn't take that long to get out of the Solar System. Also, if humans were capable of modifying a physical constant within a region of space with a radius of fifty astronomical units, then this would be tantamount to a declaration that humans possessed very advanced technology. Instead of a cosmic safety notice, it would be a cosmic danger warning!"

From the dual-layer metaphor of the umbrella and the bearing coordinates provided by Prince Deep Water and the bubble tree, the interpreters were able to ascertain the general tenor of their import, but not the specific strategic intelligence. The metaphor was no longer two-dimensional but three-dimensional. Some started to guess at the existence of yet another bearing coordinate, and the interpreters searched exhaustively through the stories, but they turned up nothing.

Just then, the mysterious name He'ershingenmosiken was finally deciphered.

"Then why were you mumbling those two place names in your dream?"

A linguistic working group was added by the IDC specifically to deal with He'ershingenmosiken. A historical linguist and philologist, Palermo, had been added to the group because his expertise differed from the others'. Instead of focusing on one language family, he was familiar with the ancient languages of many linguistic families. But even Palermo could offer no insight on this strange name. That he succeeded was due to an unexpected stroke of good luck, and had little to do with his professional expertise.

"Norway? No, never."

One morning, after Palermo woke up, his girlfriend, a blond Scandinavian, asked him whether he'd ever been to her homeland.

"What names?"

"Helseggen and Mosken."

"Yes, though you're running them together and not saying them quite right."

The names sounded vaguely familiar to Palermo. Since his girlfriend had nothing to do with the IDC, it was a little eerie to hear those sounds coming from her. "You mean He'ershingenmosiken?"

"But both of these places are in Norway."

"I'm saying the name of a single place. It's a Chinese transliteration -- so the sounds are approximate. If you break the syllables into arbitrary groups, they probably sound like the names of many places in different languages."

"Let me tell you, the average Norwegian isn't likely to know those places either. They are ancient names, no longer used. I know of them only because my specialty is Norwegian history. Both are in Nordland County."

"A coincidence, that's all."

"My dear, that's still just a coincidence. You can break that string of syllables anywhere."

"Oh please, stop teasing! You must have known that Helseggen is the name of a mountain, and Mosken is a tiny island in the Loften archipelago."

Palermo had encountered such arbitrary divisions numerous times during his work for the IDC, so he didn't take his girlfriend's "discovery" seriously. But what she said next changed everything.

"I really didn't. Look, there's a phenomenon in linguistics where a listener who doesn't know the language will arbitrarily divide a series of syllables into groupings almost subconsciously. That's what's happening here."

"Fine, let me point out one more thing: Helseggen is located right next to the sea. You can see Mosken from the top -- it's the closest isle to Helseggen!"

Two days later, Cheng Xin stood on Mosken Island and looked over the sea at the craggy cliffs of Helseggen. The cliffs were black, and because the sky was overcast, the sea appeared black as well. Only a white line of surf appeared at the foot of the cliffs. Before coming here, Cheng Xin had heard that although this location was within the Arctic Circle, warm sea currents made the climate relatively mild. However, the wind coming off the sea still chilled her.

The steep, craggy Loften Islands were carved by glaciers, and formed a 160-kilometer-long barrier between the North Sea and deep Vestfjorden, like a wall that divided the Arctic Ocean from the Scandinavian Peninsula. The currents between the islands were strong and rapid. In the past, few people had inhabited the islands, and most were seasonal fishermen. Now that seafood mainly came from aquaculture, open-sea fishing had virtually disappeared. The islands had again grown desolate, and probably resembled how they had looked during the time of the Vikings.

Faced with the forlorn desolation at the world's end, Cheng Xin nonetheless felt serenity in her heart. Not long ago, she had thought her own life had reached its terminus, but now there were many reasons to continue living. She saw a sliver of blue revealed at the edge of the leaden sky, and the sun peeked out of the opening for a few minutes, instantaneously changing this cold world. It reminded her of a line from Tianming's stories:… as if the painter of this world-picture scattered a handful of gold dust boldly over the surface of the painting. This was her life now, hope hidden in despair, warmth felt through frost.

Mosken was only a tiny isle in the archipelago, and Helseggen was a nameless mountain -- these names had changed at the end of the Crisis Era.

AA had come with her, as well as a few IDC experts, including Bi Yunfeng, Cao Bin, and Palermo the linguist.

Mosken's only inhabitant was an old man named Jason. He was more than eighty years of age and had come from the Common Era. His square face showed the marks left by the years and reminded Cheng Xin of Fraisse. When he was asked if there was anything special in the vicinity of Helseggen and Mosken, Jason pointed to the western edge of the island. "Of course. Look there."

"What's that for?" asked AA.

They saw a white lighthouse. Although it was only dusk, the lighthouse was already lit and blinked rhythmically.

"Ha! Children these days…" Jason shook his head. "It's an ancient navigation aid. Back during the Common Era, I was an engineer responsible for designing lighthouses and beacon lights. As a matter of fact, many lighthouses remained in use until the Crisis Era, though they're all gone by now. I built this lighthouse here so that kids would know that such a thing existed once."

The IDC members were all interested in the lighthouse. It reminded them of the centrifugal governor for steam engines, another ancient technology that had disappeared. But a brief investigation showed that this couldn't be what they were looking for. The lighthouse had been constructed recently and utilized modern building materials that were strong and light. It had taken only half a month to complete. Jason was also certain that historically, Mosken did not have a lighthouse. Thus, based on timing alone, the lighthouse had nothing to do with Tianming's hidden message.

"Where?"

"Right there. You may not be able to see it, but you can hear it."

"Sure thing, but the waves are powerful today, child. You'll get seasick," Jason said.

Cheng Xin's party looked at each other and then turned to Jason as one. Someone asked, "I thought you said there was nothing special here."

Jason shrugged at the cold sky and sea. "What could be here? I don't like this bleak and dreary place, but they wouldn't let me build a lighthouse anywhere else."

"Why?"

"The Moskstraumen is nothing special for us locals. It's just part of the sea. You can often see it there."

"The maelstrom, of course. It will swallow up any boat."

Jason shook his head. "I can't sail straight across. Not today. We have to go the long way around."

So everyone decided to go to Helseggen and take a look around. Just as they were about to get into the helicopter, AA suddenly had the idea to go over on Jason's tiny boat.

"Anything else interesting or special around here?" someone asked.

AA pointed to the mountain across the strait. "This is a really short ride."

The helicopter could take them to investigate the maelstrom, but Cheng Xin wanted to go over on a boat, and the others agreed. Jason's boat, the only one available on the island, could seat five or six safely. Cheng Xin, AA, Bi Yunfeng, Cao Bin, and Palermo got onto the boat while the others took the helicopter.

"Oh, I remember now!" Cao Bin shouted.

They quieted, and did hear a rumbling from the sea, like thousands of horses stampeding in the distance.

The boat left Mosken Island, bumping over the waves. The wind over the open sea was stronger and colder, and salty spray struck their faces without cease. The surface of the sea was a dark gray, and appeared eerie and mysterious in the dimming light. The rumbling grew louder, but they still couldn't see the great whirlpool.

"What? Who?" asked AA.

"Edgar Allan Poe," said Cheng Xin.

"A nineteenth-century writer."

Cheng Xin also remembered. She had thought that perhaps Tianming had found out something new about this place through the sophons, but the real answer was far simpler.

Written narrative literature had disappeared more than a century ago. "Literature" and "authors" still existed, but narratives were constructed with digital images. Classical written novels and stories were now treated as ancient artifacts. The Great Ravine had caused the loss of the works of many ancient writers, including Poe.

Jason said, "Right. Poe wrote a story about Mosken --'A Descent into the Maelstrom.' I read it when I was younger. It's very exaggerated. I remember him writing that the surface of the whirlpool formed a forty-five-degree angle. That's absurd."

"Then let's cross it!" Bi Yunfeng said.

The rumbling grew even louder. "Where's the whirlpool?" someone asked.

Jason pointed at the sea surface. "The maelstrom is lower than the surface here. Look at that line: you have to cross it to see the Moskstraumen." The passengers saw a fluctuating band of waves whose frothy tips formed a long, white arc that extended into the distance.

Jason glared at him. "That's a line separating life from death. A boat that crosses cannot return."

"Cheaper than a bar of soap," AA interjected. Jason didn't know what she was talking about.

"Forty minutes to an hour."

"How long could a boat circle around the inside of the whirlpool before being pulled under?"

"But my boat --"

"Then we should be fine. The helicopter will save us in time."

"We'll compensate you."

Carefully, Jason aimed the boat at the band of waves and navigated through. The boat swayed from side to side violently and then stabilized. Some invisible force seemed to seize it, and the boat began to glide along in the same direction as the waves as if riding on rails.

"The maelstrom has caught us," Jason cried out. "My God, this is the first time I've been this close!"

The Moskstraumen revealed itself below them as though they stood on top of a mountain. The monstrous funnel-shaped depression was about a kilometer in diameter. The slanting sides were indeed not as steep as the forty-five degrees mentioned by Poe, but they were at least thirty degrees. The surface of the vortex was smooth as a solid. Since the boat was only at the edge of the whirlpool, the spin wasn't very fast. But as they got closer to the center, the spin would become faster. At the tiny hole down in the center, the speed of the churning sea was highest, and the bone-shattering rumbling came from there. The rumbling expressed a mad power capable of grinding everything into pieces and sucking them out of existence.

"Now you see: this is the gate of hell. No normal boat can return," said Jason.

By now, the boat was so deep down in the whirlpool that the frothy waves at the rim were no longer visible. Behind them was the mountain formed of seawater, and they could only see the slow-moving top of the mountain at the other side of the whirlpool. Everyone felt the terror of being at the mercy of an irresistible force. Only the helicopter hovering overhead gave them any measure of comfort.

Jason did as she asked. The boat was electrically powered, and the quiet engine sounded like a mosquito in the rumbling of the whirlpool. The boat approached the wave band at the edge of the maelstrom and appeared to come close to leaving, but then lost momentum and turned away from the froth, like a tossed pebble that passed the apex of its trajectory. They tried a few more times, but each time, they slid back down farther into the maelstrom.

"I refuse to believe we can't force our way out," said AA. She shouted at Jason, "Follow a straight line at maximum power!"

"Let's have supper," said Jason. The sun had not yet set behind the clouds, but since it was the Arctic summer, it was already after 9 P. M. Jason took a large cod out of the hold and explained that it had been freshly caught. Then he took out three bottles of wine, placed the fish on a large iron platter, and poured a bottle of wine over the fish. With a lighter, he set the fish on fire, explaining that this was the local method of preparation. Five minutes later, he began to pull pieces off of the still-burning fish and eat them. The passengers imitated him, enjoying the fish, wine, and the magnificence of the maelstrom.

"Child, I recognize you," Jason said to Cheng Xin. "You were the Swordholder. I'm sure you and your people came here for some important mission, but you must keep your cool. We can't avoid the apocalypse, so we must enjoy the present."

"I doubt you could keep your cool if that helicopter weren't there," said AA.

"Ha, kid, I would. I surely would. Back in the Common Era, I was only forty when I found out I had a terminal illness. But I wasn't afraid, and I never even planned to go into hibernation. It was only after I went into shock that the doctors put me into hibernation. By the time I woke up, it was already the Deterrence Era. I thought I had been given a new life, but that turned out to be just an illusion. Death only backed off a little ways to wait for me on the road ahead…"

It had been twenty minutes since they entered the whirlpool, and the boat had slid about a third of the way down toward the bottom. The boat became more slanted, but due to centrifugal force, the passengers weren't sliding toward the portside. The wall of water filled their field of view, and they could no longer see the top, even on the other side of the whirlpool. Everyone avoided looking up at the sky because, in the maelstrom, the boat moved along with the spinning wall of water, and it was almost impossible to feel the motion -- the boat seemed to adhere to the side of a watery basin. But if they looked up, the motion instantly became evident. The cloud-filled sky spun overhead faster and faster, making them dizzy. Since the centrifugal force was stronger lower in the vortex, the water wall below the boat became even smoother and felt more solid, like ice. The rumbling from the eye of the maelstrom overwhelmed every other sound, and conversation was no longer possible. The Sun in the west peeked out of cracks in the cloud cover, and a ray of golden light shone into the swirling vortex. But the light couldn't reach the maw at the bottom, and only illuminated a small part of the wall of water, making the bottom appear even more dark and menacing by contrast. Mist and fog swirled out of the eye at the center, forming a rainbow in the ray of sunlight that arced grandly across the rotating abyss.

"The night I finished building the lighthouse, I took my boat out to the sea to look at it from a distance. And all of a sudden I had a thought: Death is the only lighthouse that is always lit. No matter where you sail, ultimately, you must turn toward it. Everything fades in the world, but Death endures."

The helicopter came to their rescue. Hovering about two or three meters above the boat, it dangled a rope ladder so that everyone in the boat could climb out. Then the empty boat drifted away and continued to circle the monstrous vortex. The unfinished cod on the boat still glowed with the remnants of a blue flame.

"I remember Poe describing a rainbow in the maelstrom as well. I think it was even in moonlight. He called it a bridge between Time and Eternity." Jason was shouting, but no one could hear what he was saying.

The helicopter hovered above the maw of the maelstrom, and as everyone looked down at the spinning funnel, they soon felt nauseated and dizzy. Someone entered directions into the navigation system for the helicopter to spin, matching the whirlpool's rotation below. This way, the whirlpool appeared still, but the world outside -- sky, sea, and mountains -- began to spin around them. The maelstrom seemed to become the center of the world, and the observer's nausea wasn't reduced in the slightest. AA vomited up all the fish she had eaten.

But the question remained: What did lowering the speed of light have to do with black holes? What did black holes have to do with the cosmic safety notice?

Half an hour later, the boat fell into the eye and disappeared abruptly. Amidst the unchanging rumbling, they seemed to detect the sound of the boat being ground apart.

As she gazed at the whirlpool below, another whirlpool appeared in Cheng Xin's mind: It was made up of a hundred billion silver stars spinning in the sea that was the universe, taking 250 million years to complete one rotation -- it was the Milky Way. The Earth was not even as big as a mote of dust in this whirlpool, and the Moskstraumen was but another mote of dust on the Earth-dust.

The helicopter dropped Jason off at Mosken, and Cheng Xin promised to compensate him with a new boat as soon as possible. Then they said farewell and the helicopter headed for Oslo, the nearest city with a sophon-free room.

The Moskstraumen's meaning was so obvious that no thought was required.

Everyone remained deep in thought through the voyage, not even conversing with their eyes.

There was a threshold here that had to be crossed -- hard to do for normal patterns of thinking, but not so for this group, among the most brilliant minds humanity had to offer. Cao Bin, in particular, was good at unconventional ideas. As a physicist who had crossed three centuries, he knew something else: Back during the Common Era, a research group had successfully reduced the speed of light through a medium in a lab to seventeen meters per second, slower than someone riding a bike. Of course, this was not the same as lowering the speed of light through vacuum, but at least it made what he imagined next seem not so crazy.

Lowering the speed of light in vacuum to one-tenth, one-hundredth, or even one-thousandth of its natural speed would mean thirty thousand kilometers per second, three thousand kilometers per second, and three hundred kilometers per second, respectively. It was hard to tell how black holes would be involved.

A black hole couldn't change the speed of light; all it could do was to change the wavelength.

"Sixteen point seven!" Cao Bin shouted. The fire in his eyes quickly set the other eyes around him ablaze.

What if the speed of light were reduced even further, to thirty kilometers per second? Would that involve black holes? It still seemed essentially the same process as before… wait!

The third cosmic velocity of the Solar System was 16.7 kilometers per second. A spacecraft from the Earth could not leave the Solar System without exceeding this limit.

It was the same with light.

If the speed of light through vacuum in the Solar System were reduced to below 16.7 kilometers per second, light would no longer be able to escape the gravity of the Sun, and the Solar System would become a black hole. This was an inescapable consequence of the derivation of the Schwarzschild radius of an object, even if the object was the Solar System. More precisely, the necessary speed limit would be even lower if a larger Schwarzschild radius were desired.

Since nothing could exceed the speed of light, if light couldn't leave the Solar System's event horizon, nothing else could either. The Solar System would be hermetically sealed off from the rest of the universe.

And therefore completely safe -- as far as the rest of the universe was concerned.

Take a distant star, a barely visible dot. Anyone casually glancing at it would say: Oh, that star is safe; that star will not threaten us.

How would a distant observer see the Solar System black hole created by lowering the speed of light? There were two possibilities: for technologically primitive observers, the Solar System would simply disappear; and, for technologically advanced observers, they should be able to detect the black hole, but instantly understand that the system was safe.

This was the cosmic safety notice. The impossible was possible, after all.

The helicopter continued above the clouds. It was now after 11 P. M., and the sun slowly set in the west, leaving only a slice visible. In the golden light of the midnight sun, everyone tried to imagine life in a world where light moved just below 16.7 kilometers per second, tried to imagine the creeping light of such a sunset.

Later, people would call a black hole formed by lowering the speed of light a "black domain." Compared to black holes where the speed of light was unaltered, a reduced-lightspeed black hole had a much larger Schwarzschild radius. The interior was not a space-time singularity, but a fairly open region.

Ultimately, this last piece of the puzzle could not be deciphered. Like the missing arms of Venus de Milo, the paintings of Needle-Eye remained mysterious. But as this detail formed the foundation for all three stories and described an elegant ruthlessness, an exquisite cruelty, and a beautiful death, it must have hinted at a great secret of life and death.

By now, most of the puzzle pieces in Yun Tianming's stories had fallen into place. But one piece remained: the paintings of Needle-Eye. The interpreters couldn't figure out the dual-layer metaphor or find any bearing coordinates. Some thought that the paintings might be another bearing coordinate for the Moskstraumen, symbolizing the event horizon of the black domain. They reasoned that from an outside observer's perspective, anything entering the black domain would be forever fixed at the event horizon, which resembled being painted into a picture. But most interpreters disagreed. The meaning of the Moskstraumen was very clear, and Tianming had used the Glutton's Sea to act as a bearing coordinate. There was no need for another.

[Excerpt from A Past Outside of Time, Three Paths of Survival for Earth Civilization]

This was also a plan devised entirely by the Earth itself; it had not been described in the message from Yun Tianming.

II. The Black Domain Plan: This involved transforming the Solar System into a reduced-lightspeed black hole to broadcast a cosmic safety notice. Out of all the choices, this was the most technically challenging. Within a region of space fifty AU (or 7.5 billion kilometers) in radius, a physical constant had to be altered. This was dubbed God's Engineering Project. The theoretical unknowns were immense.

I. The Bunker Project: This was the plan with the most hope for success, because it was based entirely on known technologies and involved no theoretical unknowns. In some sense, the Bunker Project could be viewed as a natural continuation of the development of the human race. Even without the threat of a dark forest strike, it was time for humanity to begin colonizing the rest of the Solar System. The Bunker Project just made the effort more focused and the goals clearer.

But if the Black Domain Plan were to succeed, it would provide the most protection for Earth civilization. Setting aside its effect as a cosmic safety notice, the black domain itself would act as a highly effective protective barrier. Any external missile, such as a photoid, would be traveling at a very high velocity to produce the necessary destructive power, and would thus enter the black domain with a speed far in excess of the modified speed of light inside. Under the theory of relativity, such an object would have to proceed at the (new, low) speed of light as soon as it crossed the barrier, and its excess kinetic energy would be converted to mass. The first part of the object entering the black domain would suddenly slow down and acquire a much larger mass, while the rest of the object, still moving at the unaltered speed of light, would run into the first part, thereby destroying the entire missile with the impact. Calculations showed that even objects made of strong-interaction materials such as droplets would be completely shattered at the boundary of the black domain. Thus, a black domain was also dubbed "the cosmic safe."

III. Lightspeed Spaceflight Plan: Although the theoretical foundation for curvature propulsion was unknown, it was clearly easier than the Black Domain Plan.

But Earth civilization would pay a heavy price. The Solar System would be completely divided from the rest of the universe, equivalent to humanity shrinking their universe from 16 billion light-years across to one hundred AU. Moreover, it was impossible to know what life in such a world would be like. It was certain that electronic and quantum computers would have to operate at extremely low speeds, so humanity might regress to a low-technology society. This would be an even more absolute seal than the technology seal imposed by the sophons. Besides being a cosmic safety notice, the Black Domain Plan was also a form of technological self-mutilation. Humans would never be able to escape from this reduced-lightspeed trap.

There was yet another advantage to the Black Domain Plan: Out of all three choices, it was the only plan that allowed humanity to continue to live on the familiar surface of the Earth and avoid an exile in space.

Lightspeed spaceflight could not, however, provide any security for Earth civilization. It was only good for escape into the stars. Of all three plans, this involved the most unknowns. Even if it succeeded, members of the human race who escaped into the vast emptiness of space faced unpredictable dangers. Also, the dangers of escapism meant that the plan faced numerous political barriers and traps.

Yet a portion of humanity was certain to be obsessed with lightspeed spaceflight for reasons other than survival.

For people of the Broadcast Era, the only smart choice was to carry out all three plans simultaneously.