Death's End

Cixin Liu DEATH’S END

A Brief Note from the Translator

Chinese and Korean names in this text are rendered with surnames first and given names last, in accordance with the customs of these cultures. For example, in the name “Yun Tianming,” YUN is the surname and TIANMING is the given name.

CHARACTERS FROM THE THREE-BODY PROBLEM AND THE DARK FOREST

(Chinese names are written with surname first.)

Ye Wenjie

Physicist whose family was persecuted during the Cultural Revolution. She initiated contact with the Trisolarans and precipitated the Trisolar Crisis.

Yang Dong

Physicist; daughter of Ye Wenjie.

Ding Yi

Theoretical physicist and the first human to make contact with the Trisolaran droplets; Yang Dong’s boyfriend.

Zhang Beihai

Officer in the Asian Fleet who hijacked Natural Selection during the Doomsday Battle, thus preserving a flicker of hope for humanity during their darkest hour. Possibly one of the first officers to understand the nature of dark battles.

Secretary General Say

UN secretary general during the Trisolar Crisis.

Manuel Rey Diaz

Wallfacer; he proposed the giant hydrogen bomb plan as a defense against the Trisolarans.

Luo Ji

Wallfacer; discoverer of the dark forest theory; creator of dark forest deterrence.

Table of Eras

Common Era — Present–201X C.E.

Crisis Era — 201X–2208

Deterrence Era — 2208–2270

Post-Deterrence Era — 2270–2272

Broadcast Era — 2272–2332

Bunker Era — 2333–2400

Galaxy Era — 2273–unknown

Black Domain Era for DX3906 System — 2687–18906416

Timeline for Universe 647 — 18906416–…

Excerpt from the Preface to A Past Outside of Time

I suppose this ought to be called history; but since all I can rely on is my memory, it lacks the rigor of history.

It’s not even accurate to call it the past, for the events related in these pages didn’t occur in the past, aren’t taking place now, and will not happen in the future.

I don’t want to record the details. Only a frame, for a history or an account of the past. The details that have been preserved are already abundant. Sealed in floating bottles, they will hopefully reach the new universe and endure there.

So I’ve written only a frame; someday, the frame may make it easier to fill in all the specifics. Of course, that task won’t fall to us. I just hope such a day will come for someone.

I regret that day didn’t exist in the past, doesn’t exist in the present, and will not exist in the future.

I move the sun to the west, and as the angle of the light shifts, the dewdrops on the seedlings in the field glisten like countless eyes suddenly popping open. I dim the sun so that dusk arrives earlier; then I stare at the silhouette of myself on the distant horizon, in front of the setting sun.

I wave at the silhouette; the silhouette waves back. Looking at the shadow of myself, I feel young again.

This is a lovely time, just right for remembering.

PART I

May 1453, C.E. The Death of the Magician

Pausing to collect himself, Constantine XI pushed away the pile of city-defense maps in front of him, pulled his purple robe tighter, and waited.

His sense of time was very accurate: The tremor came the moment he expected it, a powerful, violent quake that seemed to originate from deep within the earth. The vibrating silver candelabra hummed, and a wisp of dust that had sat on top of the Great Palace for perhaps a thousand years fell down and drifted into the candle flames, where the motes exploded in tiny sparks.

Every three hours—the time it took the Ottomans to reload one of the monstrous bombards designed by the engineer Orban—twelve-hundred-pound stone balls battered the walls of Constantinople. These were the world’s strongest walls: first built by Theodosius II during the fifth century, they had been continually reinforced and expanded, and were the main reason that the Byzantine court had survived so many powerful enemies.

But the giant stone balls now gouged openings into the walls with each strike, like the bite of an invisible giant. The emperor could imagine the scene: While the debris from the explosion filled the air, countless soldiers and citizens rushed onto the fresh wound in the walls like a swarm of brave ants under a sky full of dust. They filled in the break with whatever was at hand: bits and pieces taken from other buildings in the city, flaxen-cloth bags of earth, expensive Arabic carpets…. He could even imagine the cloud of dust, steeped in the light of the setting sun, drifting slowly toward Constantinople like a golden shroud.