A2-02 Accepting the Nomination

You spend three days thinking.

You walk through the parks and libraries of this new world. You read every available record on the sixty-two-year history of the Deterrence Era. You read Luo Ji's biography — that man who sat alone in a dark room for sixty-two years, his finger never leaving the button, his life never leaving that underground bunker.

He guarded humanity's gate for sixty-two years.

Now, the gate needs a new guardian.

You tell yourself: if the purpose of deterrence is "making the Trisolarans believe you will press the button" — then what kind of person would give them the most pause?

The answer unsettles you: a madman. Someone who truly would press the button. Someone who doesn't care about mutual destruction.

But humanity doesn't want to choose a madman. Sixty-two years of peace have made them forget the value of fear. They want a "good person" sitting in that chair.

You — are the "good person" in their hearts.

You know you may not be the best candidate. But you also know that if you don't run, the public might elect someone even weaker. At least you understand the nature of deterrence. At least you know what the button means.

You accept the nomination.

The election begins.

In the Deterrence Era, the selection of the Swordholder belongs to all of humanity — a global referendum encompassing every citizen of Earth.

There are two candidates: you, and Thomas Wade.

Wade. You knew him from the Staircase Project — he was the PDC's intelligence director, and the Staircase Project was carried out under his supervision. He is the kind of person you never want to encounter in a dark alley.

Wade's campaign declaration is a single sentence:

"If necessary, I will press the button without hesitation. The mutual destruction of two civilizations is better than the enslavement of one."

His eyes say: he isn't bluffing. He means it.

Your campaign declaration reads:

"I will safeguard the security of human civilization while never abandoning the pursuit of peace."

The polls show you leading by a wide margin. People don't want Wade. Wade reminds them of Luo Ji — that dark, cold, unsettling presence. They've had enough of being protected by a "dangerous man." They want someone who puts them at ease.

Someone who would never actually press the button.

The night the results come in, you stand before the floor-to-ceiling windows of your hotel room, gazing at the lights of the floating city.

You have won by an overwhelming margin.

When your assistant rushes in with the news, you feel no joy. What you feel is a leaden weight, like a boulder pressing against your chest.

You suddenly understand Luo Ji. Understand what he felt every single day for sixty-two years.

Your existence is the deterrence. Your kindness is the vulnerability.

What if the Trisolarans have reached the same conclusion?