Death's End

Even without the barrier of the asteroid, it would have been impossible to see the hydrogen bomb simulating the Sun fifty kilometers away. But in the other direction, she could see the simulated “Saturn.” By scale, it was just about a hundred kilometers from the “Sun” and fifty kilometers from “Jupiter.” It was about the same size as this asteroid fragment, and, illuminated by the real Sun, stood out against the backdrop of space so that Cheng Xin could just tell its shape. She could also see “Uranus” about two hundred kilometers away, though that was just a shiny dot, hard to tell apart from the stars. The rest of the “planets” were invisible.

Along with Cheng Xin’s dinghy, about nineteen other space vessels were parked behind “Jupiter.” Together, these simulated the twenty planned Jovian space cities. The spaceships were lined up in three rows behind the asteroid, and Cheng Xin was in the front-most row, about ten meters from the asteroid. More than a hundred volunteers were seated in the ships. Originally, AA had planned to come with Cheng Xin, but company business kept her away. Thus, Cheng Xin’s dinghy might be the only one sheltered behind “Jupiter” with a lone passenger.

They could see the bright blue Earth about 1.5 million kilometers away. More than three billion people there were watching a live broadcast of the trial.

The countdown indicated that about ten minutes remained before the start of the detonation. The communications channels quieted. Abruptly, a man’s voice spoke up.

“Hello. I’m next to you.”

Cheng Xin shuddered as she recognized the voice. Her dinghy was at one end of the five vessels in the first row. Looking to her right, she saw a spherical dinghy very similar to the one she had ridden in a year ago parked right next to hers. Almost half the hull was transparent, and she could see five passengers inside. Thomas Wade was sitting on the side closest to her, and waved at her. Cheng Xin was able to recognize him right away because, unlike the other four passengers, he wasn’t wearing a lightweight space suit; instead, he wore only his black leather jacket, as if to show his contempt for space. His sleeve remained empty, indicating that he still had not gotten a prosthetic hand.

“Let’s dock so I can come over,” Wade said. Without waiting for Cheng Xin to agree, he initiated the docking sequence. The dinghy he was in started its maneuvering thrusters and slowly approached Cheng Xin’s dinghy. Reluctantly, Cheng Xin initiated the docking procedure as well. After a slight tremor, the two ships were connected, and both sets of cabin doors slid open noiselessly. As the pressure between the two ships equalized, Cheng Xin’s ears popped.

Wade floated over. He couldn’t have had much experience in space, but like Cheng Xin, he moved as though he was born to it. Though he had only one hand, his movements in weightlessness were steady and firm, as though gravity still worked on him. The interior of the cabin was dim. Sunlight, reflected from the Earth, was deflected again by the asteroid into the dinghy. In this obscure light, Cheng Xin looked Wade over and found him not much changed by the intervening eight years. He still looked pretty much the same as he had in Australia.

“What are you doing here?” Cheng Xin asked, trying to keep her voice cool. But she always seemed to have trouble maintaining her composure in front of this man. After what she had gone through the last few years, everything in her heart had been polished until it was as smooth as the asteroid in front of her, but Wade remained a singular sharp corner.

“I finished my sentence a month ago.” Wade took half of a cigar from his jacket pocket—though he couldn’t light it here. “It was reduced. A murderer, out in eleven years—I know that’s not fair… to you.”

“We all have to follow the law. There’s nothing unfair about that.”

“Follow the law in everything? Including lightspeed propulsion?”

Just like before, Wade got straight to the point without wasting any time. Cheng Xin didn’t answer.

“Why do you want lightspeed ships?” Wade asked. He turned and stared at Cheng Xin brazenly.

“Because that is the only choice that makes humankind grand,” Cheng Xin said. She met his gaze fearlessly.

Wade nodded and took the cigar out of his mouth. “Very good. You’re grand.”

Cheng Xin looked at him, her eyes asking the unspoken question.

“You know what is right, and you have the courage and sense of duty to do it. This makes you extraordinary.”

“But?” Cheng Xin prompted.

“But, you don’t have the skill or the will to complete this task. We share the same ideal. I also want to see lightspeed ships built.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Give it to me.”

“Give what to you?”

“Everything you own. Your company, your wealth, your authority, your position—and if possible, your reputation and glory. I will use them all to build lightspeed ships, for your ideals, and for the grandness of the human spirit.”