A7-07 Writing a Last Testament

You return to your compartment. Sit down. Take out a data tablet.

You begin to write.

To a future civilization — if one exists: My name is Cheng Xin. I am a human being. Humans are a carbon-based life form that lived on the third planet of the solar system. We existed for approximately three hundred thousand years. We built cities, created music, invented writing. We did many foolish things, and some beautiful ones. Right now, we are dying. When you find this text (if you find it), the solar system has already become a two-dimensional plane. All of us — three billion — are within that plane. We are no longer alive. But our information — our atoms, our structures — is preserved on that plane. Perhaps you have the technology to restore us to three dimensions. Perhaps not. Either way, please know — we once existed. I want to tell you some things about humanity: We were not perfect. We often hurt each other. We had wars, lies, betrayals. But we also had love. That mad, unreasonable, willing-to-sacrifice-everything-for-another love. There was a boy — his name was Yun Tianming — who, as he lay dying, spent every last cent he had to buy me a star. A star he would never see. That is humanity. We made many mistakes. I may have made the greatest among them. I had the chance to save my civilization — by pressing a button, by supporting a plan — but each time I chose... kindness. Chose humanity. Chose not to do the cold, necessary things. The universe punished my kindness. But if I could do it all again — I'm not sure I would choose differently. Because if I became someone willing to press the button, someone willing to stop at nothing — would that still be me? Lose humanity, lose much. Lose bestiality, lose everything. I chose the former. I lost much. But what I did not lose was — myself. Perhaps it wasn't worth it. Perhaps three billion lives matter more than one person's soul. Perhaps when you read this you will think me selfish, foolish, unforgivable. Perhaps you're right. But this is my story. The story of a kind person in a cruel universe. If your universe is also cruel — if you too have faced similar choices — I hope you can find a path I could not find. A path that doesn't require choosing between humanity and survival. If such a path exists — please walk it for me. Cheng Xin 22XX AD The Solar System

You set the data tablet down. You place it inside a sealed metal box — perhaps two-dimensionalization won't completely destroy the information stored on the tablet. Perhaps in billions of years, some passing civilization will find it.

Perhaps not.

You walk up to the observation platform.