“So long as you input the appropriate parameters, the star could be a model for our sun. Think about it. It’s always useful to have the sun in your computer memory. It’s the biggest presence that’s close to us in the cosmos, but we could take more advantage of it. The model may have many more discoveries lying in wait.”
Rey Diaz said, “One previous use of the sun is what brought humanity to the brink, and brought you and me to this place.”
“But new discoveries might bring humanity back. So today, I’ve invited you here to watch the sunrise.”
The rising sun was now just peeking its head over the horizon. The desert in front of them came into focus like a developing photograph, and Rey Diaz could see that this place, once blasted by the fires of hell, was now covered in sparse undergrowth.
“I am become death, the destroyer of worlds,” Allen exclaimed.
“What?” Rey Diaz whipped his head around, as if someone had shot him from behind.
“Oppenheimer said that when he watched the first nuclear explosion. I think it’s a quote from the Bhagavad Gita.”
The wheel in the east expanded rapidly, casting light across the Earth like a golden web. The same sun was there on that morning when Ye Wenjie had tuned the Red Shore antenna, and even before that, the same sun had shone upon the dust settling after the first bomb blast. Australopithecus a million years ago and the dinosaurs a hundred million years ago had turned their dull eyes upon this very sun, and even earlier than that, the hazy light that penetrated the surface of the primeval ocean and was felt by the first living cell was emitted by this same sun.
Allen went on, “And then a man called Bainbridge followed up Oppenheimer’s statement with something completely nonpoetic: ‘Now we are all sons of bitches.’”
“What are you talking about?” Rey Diaz said. Watching the rising sun, his breathing became ragged.
“I’m thanking you, Mr. Rey Diaz, because from now on we’re not sons of bitches.”