The Three-Body Problem

“Quick! Find shade!” Follower shouted. Wang ran after them. They ducked behind a large rock. The shadow cast by the rock gradually grew shorter and shorter. The earth around them glowed as though on fire. The permafrost beneath them soon melted, the steel-like hard surface turning into a sea of mud, roiled by waves of heat. Wang sweated profusely.

When the sun was directly overhead, the three covered their heads with the animal hides, but the bright light still shot through the holes and gaps like arrows. The three shifted around the rock until they were able to hide inside the new shadow that had just appeared on the other side.

After the sun set, the air remained hot and damp. The three sweat-drenched travelers sat on the rock. Follower spoke with dismay. “Traveling during a Chaotic Era is like walking through hell. I can’t stand it anymore. Also, I haven’t had anything to eat because you won’t give me any dried fish and you won’t let me eat the dehydrated bodies. What—”

“The only choice is to dehydrate you,” King Wen said, fanning himself with a piece of hide.

“You won’t abandon me afterwards, will you?”

“Of course not. I promise to bring you to Zhao Ge.”

Follower stripped off his sweat-soaked robe and lay down nude on the muddy earth. In the last glow from the sun, already below the horizon, Wang saw water oozing out of Follower’s body. He knew that it was no longer sweat. All the water in his body was being discharged and squeezed out. The water coalesced into a few small rivulets in the mud. His body turned soft and lost its shape like a melting candle.

Ten minutes later, all the water had been eliminated from his body. Follower was now a man-shaped piece of leather stretched out on the ground. His facial features had flattened and become indistinct.

“Is he dead?” Wang asked. He remembered seeing such man-shaped pieces of hide scattered along the road. Some were torn and incomplete. He supposed they were the dehydrated bodies Follower spoke of earlier as potential kindling.

“No,” King Wen answered. He picked up Follower’s skin, brushed the mud and dust off, laid him out on the rock, and rolled him up like a balloon with its air let out. “He’ll recover soon enough, when we soak him in water. It’s just like soaking dried mushrooms.”

“Even his bones have turned soft?”

“Yes. His skeleton has turned into dried fibers. This makes him easy to carry.”

“In this world, can everyone be dehydrated and rehydrated?”

“Of course. You can, too. Otherwise we could not survive the Chaotic Eras.” King Wen handed the rolled-up Follower to Wang. “Carry him. If you abandon him on the road, he’ll be burned or eaten.”

Wang accepted the skin, a light roll. He held it under his arm, and it didn’t feel too strange.

With Wang carrying the dehydrated Follower and King Wen carrying the sandglass, the two continued their arduous journey. Like the previous few days, the progress of the sun in this world followed no pattern. After a long, frigid night lasting several days’ worth of time, a brief but scorching day might follow, and vice versa. The two relied on each other for survival. They lit fires to hold off the cold, and ducked into lakes to avoid the heat.

At least the game sped up the progress of time. A month in game time might pass in half an hour. This made the journey through the Chaotic Era at least tolerable for Wang.

One day, after a long night that lasted almost a week (as measured by the sandglass), King Wen suddenly shouted joyously as he pointed to the night sky.

“Flying stars! Two flying stars!”

Actually, Wang had already noticed the strange celestial bodies. They were bigger than stars, and showed up as disks about the size of ping-pong balls. They moved through the sky at a pace quick enough for the naked eye to detect the motion. But it was the first time two of them had appeared together.

King Wen explained, “When two flying stars appear, it means a Stable Era is about to begin.”

“We’ve seen flying stars before.”

“Yes, but only one at a time.”

“Is two the most we’ll see at once?”

“No. Sometimes three will appear, but no more than that.”

“If three flying stars appear, does that herald an even better era?”

King Wen gave Wang a frightened look. “What are you talking about? Three flying stars … pray that such a thing never happens.”

King Wen turned out to be right. The yearned-for Stable Era soon began. Sunrise and sunset began to follow a pattern. A day-night cycle began to stabilize around eighteen hours. The orderly alternation of day and night made the weather warm and mild.

“How long does a Stable Era last?” Wang asked.

“As short as a day or as long as a century. No one can predict how long one will last.” King Wen sat on the sandglass, lifting his head to gaze at the noonday sun. “According to historical records, the Western Zhou Dynasty experienced a Stable Era lasting two centuries. How lucky to be born during such a time!”

“Then how long does a Chaotic Era last?”