Death's End

True. What was there to say? Civilization was like a mad dash that lasted five thousand years. Progress begot more progress; countless miracles gave birth to more miracles; humankind seemed to possess the power of gods; but in the end, the real power was wielded by time. Leaving behind a mark was tougher than creating a world. At the end of civilization, all they could do was the same thing they had done in the distant past, when humanity was but a babe:

Carving words into stone.

Cheng Xin examined the carvings on the wall carefully. They began with the relief carving of a man and a woman, perhaps an attempt to show future discoverers what humans looked like. But unlike the stiff bearing of the drawings of the man and woman on the metal plaque carried by the Pioneer probes during the Common Era, the two cave carvings were done with lively expressions and postures, evoking Adam and Eve.

Cheng Xin walked along the wall. After the man and the woman came some hieroglyphs and cuneiforms, probably copied from ancient artifacts—it was possible that some of them were not even intelligible to modern men and women, and if so, how would future extraterrestrial discoverers understand them? Going further, Cheng Xin saw Chinese poetry—or, at least, she could tell the carvings were poetry based on the arrangement of the characters. But she didn’t recognize any of the characters; she could only tell they were in Great Seal Script.

“That’s the Classic of Poetry, from a millennium before the time of Christ,” Luo Ji said. “If you keep on walking, you’ll see fragments of Classical Greek philosophy. To see letters and characters that you can read, you’ll have to walk tens of meters.”

Under the Greek letters, Cheng Xin saw another relief, which seemed to portray ancient scholars in simple robes debating in an agora surrounded by stone columns.

Cheng Xin had a strange idea. She turned back and looked near the beginning of the cave carvings, but didn’t find what she was looking for.

“You are looking for a Rosetta Stone?” Luo Ji asked.

“Yes. Isn’t there some system to help with interpretation?”

“Child, we’re talking about carving in stone, not a computer. How can we possibly fit something like that here?”

AA looked at the cave wall and then stared at Luo Ji. “You’re saying that we’ve carved things here that we don’t even understand with the hope that someday, some extraterrestrial will be able to read them?”

True, to the extraterrestrial discoverers of the far future, the human classics left on the walls here would probably resemble Linear A, Cretan hieroglyphics, and other ancient scripts that no one could read. Perhaps there was no realistic hope that anyone would. By the time the builders of this monument truly understood the power of time, they no longer believed that a vanished civilization could really leave behind any marks that would last through geologic eons. As Luo Ji had said, this wasn’t a museum.

A museum was built for visitors; a tombstone was built for the builders.

The three continued onward, and Luo Ji’s cane tapped along the ground rhythmically.

“I often stroll around here thinking my own crazy thoughts.” Luo Ji paused and pointed at a relief carving of an ancient soldier in armor and wielding a spear. “This is about the conquests of Alexander the Great. If he had kept on going a bit farther east, he would have encountered the Qin at the end of the Warring States Period—what would have happened then? And how would history have changed?” They walked some more, and he pointed at the cave wall again. By now, the characters carved on the wall had turned from Small Seal Script to Clerical Script. “Ah, we’ve reached the Han Dynasty. From here to later, China completed two unifications. Are a unified territory and a unified system of thought good things for civilization as a whole? The Han Dynasty ended up endorsing Confucianism above all, but if the multiplicity of schools of thinking during the Spring and Autumn Period had continued, what would have happened later? How would the present be different?” He waved his cane around in a circle. “At every moment in history, you can find endless missed opportunities.”

“Like life,” said Cheng Xin softly.

“Oh, no no no.” Luo Ji shook his head vigorously. “At least not for me. I don’t think I’ve missed anything, haha.” He looked at Cheng Xin. “Child, do you think you’ve missed out? Then don’t let opportunities go by again in the future.”

“There’s no future now,” said AA coldly. She wondered if Luo Ji was suffering from dementia.

They reached the end of the cave. Turning around to survey this underground tombstone, Luo Ji sighed. “We had designed this place to last a hundred million years, but it won’t even survive a hundred.”

“Who knows? Perhaps a flat two-dimensional civilization will be able to see all this,” said AA.

“Interesting! I hope you’re right…. Look, this is where the artifacts are kept. We have a total of three halls.”