In the circular hall of the String Light Research Institute's Cosmological Computing Center, Yue'er stood alone before a holographic projection spanning the entire curved wall, gazing at data streams pulsating like the cosmic heartbeat. At the center of the projection displayed the latest all‑sky map of the cosmic microwave background (CMB) radiation—those subtle temperature fluctuations and polarization patterns resembling a baby picture of the universe, recording relics from 13.8 billion years ago, just after the Big Bang. But today, Yue'er's focus was on the E‑mode polarization data, imperceptible to ordinary observers—this special polarization pattern generated when early‑universe photons underwent their last scattering with electrons holds the universe's deepest secrets. The entire laboratory was enveloped in an almost sacred silence, broken only by the low hum of the quantum‑computing array, as if echoing the universe's own breath.
Yue'er's fingers glided lightly across the holographic console, calling up data collected over three years by the upgraded Planck satellite. Its precision was two orders of magnitude higher than the previous generation, sufficient to resolve the faintest polarization signals in the CMB.
The experiment's core idea was bold to the point of near‑madness: to treat the entire observable universe as a quantum computer, performing actual computations using the quantum information encoded in the cosmic microwave background radiation. This notion stemmed from Yue'er's deep study of quantum‑gravity theories; she discovered that the quantum fluctuations of the early universe not only left imprints of temperature anisotropy in the CMB but also encoded, in a special way, the essential resource required for quantum computation—quantum entanglement.
On the left side of the projection, real‑time E‑mode polarization data streamed from the Atacama Large Millimeter Array in Chile. After special processing, these data extracted the specific polarization patterns corresponding to primordial gravitational waves generated during cosmic inflation. Yue'er began writing data‑preprocessing algorithms to transform these astronomical observations into input states usable for quantum computation.
The process of encoding primordial gravitational waves into quantum bits was the most exquisite part of the whole experiment. Yue'er called up the theoretical model and began explaining its fundamental principles to the research team: "When primordial gravitational waves interact with CMB photons, they produce a specific B‑mode component in the polarization. The statistical properties of these components." She displayed a conversion formula on the console:
$$
|\psi\rangle_{graviton} = \int \frac{d^3k}{(2\pi)^3} h_{\lambda}(k) e^{i\mathbf{k}\cdot\mathbf{x}} |k,\lambda\rangle
$$
where $h_{\lambda}(k)$ is the gravitational‑wave amplitude, $\lambda$ denotes the polarization state, and this quantum state can be mapped onto the basis vectors of a qubit. Through a carefully designed quantum circuit, the team successfully encoded the B‑mode polarization data from the CMB into a series of entangled qubits—their states determined by physical processes during cosmic inflation 13.8 billion years ago.
The next step was the most critical: running Shor's integer‑factorization algorithm on these universe‑originated qubits. Shor's algorithm is a milestone in quantum computing, capable of factoring large integers in polynomial time, posing a fundamental threat to classical RSA encryption. The innovation of Yue'er's team lay in not using artificial qubits but leveraging the natural quantum states formed by the cosmos itself as computational resources.
The main screen in the control room began displaying the algorithm's execution: first, a quantum Fourier transform on the cosmic qubits, utilizing phase relationships among CMB anisotropies; then modular‑exponentiation operations, achieving parallel computation on a cosmic scale through precisely controlled quantum‑gate operations.
The entire computation lasted seventy‑two hours, during which Yue'er hardly left the control room. As the clock approached the early morning of the third day, results began to emerge: a 2048‑bit composite number was successfully factored into the product of two primes. The choice of this number held special significance—it was exactly the key length used by the most advanced RSA encryption systems. Suppressed cheers erupted in the laboratory, yet Yue'er's expression grew unusually grave. She knew full well what this breakthrough meant: humanity had for the first time performed actual computation using the universe's own quantum fabric. This was not only a revolution in computational science but also a leap in understanding the universe's essence.
On the technical front, this breakthrough relied on major advances in several fields. First was the breakthrough in quantum‑gravity theory; Yue'er's proposed "spacetime quantum encoding" theory provided the theoretical foundation for understanding quantum information in the CMB. Second was progress in observational technology; the new‑generation CMB observation satellites could measure E‑mode and B‑mode polarization with unprecedented precision. Most important was the breakthrough in quantum‑control technology; the team developed novel quantum interfaces capable of interacting with cosmic‑scale quantum systems.
As the results were confirmed, Yue'er began deeper analysis. She discovered that cosmic‑background computing could not only run Shor's algorithm but theoretically execute any quantum algorithm. More astonishingly, the computation exhibited certain anomalous properties—the coherence time of the cosmic qubits far exceeded any artificial system, the range of quantum entanglement reached cosmic scales, and the energy consumption during computation was almost negligible. These features hinted that the universe itself might be a natural quantum computer, and humans were only just beginning to learn how to use it.
Yet, just as the global scientific community cheered this breakthrough, Yue'er made a decision that surprised everyone. At the press conference announcing the results, before global media, she pressed the data‑delete key on the console. All raw observation data, computation‑process records, and algorithm details were permanently erased in an instant. "Some codes should not be cracked." She calmly explained, her voice carrying a caution and reverence rare among scientists.
This decision sparked intense debate in the scientific community. Supporters considered it a responsible research attitude; opponents accused it of betraying the spirit of scientific exploration. But at a subsequent technical briefing, Yue'er offered a deeper explanation: "When we discovered that the universe itself is a quantum computer, we touched not only a technical problem but a philosophical and ethical abyss. The demonstration of Shor's algorithm proves that if this technology were misused, the entire foundation of human civilization's information security would instantly collapse."
She further pointed out that the potential risks of cosmic‑background computing extended far beyond this. If one could freely read quantum information encoded in the cosmos, humans might foresee the universe's future evolution, challenging fundamental concepts like free will and causality. More seriously, this technology might allow access to quantum information from other regions of the cosmos, including possible traces left by other intelligent civilizations.
During internal discussions that followed, Yue'er revealed an even more unsettling discovery to the String Light Research Institute's core team. During the cosmic‑background computation, they had detected certain "non‑natural" quantum correlation patterns—patterns unexplainable by known physical processes, seemingly hinting that the cosmos's quantum structure might have been intelligently designed or modified. "When we gaze into the cosmic abyss," Yue'er quoted a modified Nietzschean phrase, "we must be prepared that the abyss gazes back into us."
This finding prompted the institute to establish a dedicated ethics committee, formulating strict research guidelines for cosmic‑background computing. These included: prohibiting the use of the technology to crack existing encryption systems; limiting predictive studies of the universe's future state; and establishing international oversight mechanisms to prevent misuse. Yue'er personally drafted the "Ethical Declaration for Cosmic Computing," calling on the global scientific community to jointly uphold research ethics in this new field.
On the technical front, the team pivoted to more fundamental research directions. They found that cosmic‑background computing could not only handle mathematical problems but also simulate complex physical processes. In one experiment, they successfully reproduced the phase transition of the early‑universe quark–gluon plasma with precision surpassing simulations by the most powerful supercomputers. In another, they used quantum entanglement in the CMB to study the quantum origin of large‑scale structure formation.
Deeper impacts emerged in theoretical physics. Cosmic‑background computing provided an entirely new experimental means for testing quantum‑gravity theories. By comparing quantum‑computation results predicted by different theories against actual cosmic observational data, scientists could test various quantum‑gravity models with unprecedented precision. Yue'er's own unified field theory received strong support in this process, though it also revealed issues requiring revision.
As the initial controversy gradually subsided, the scientific community began to grasp the deeper meaning of Yue'er's decision. The development of cosmic‑background computing entered a more cautious, ethics‑aware new phase. Research emphasis shifted from merely pursuing computational power to fundamental studies aimed at understanding the quantum nature of the cosmos. Multiple international joint projects launched, aiming to build a comprehensive theoretical framework and ethical norms for cosmic computing.
In the project's summary report, Yue'er wrote: "Today we have not only pioneered a new computational paradigm but, more importantly, learned humility in scientific exploration. Cosmic‑background computing made us realize that some knowledge is too powerful; we must wield it with the greatest sense of responsibility. In this sense, knowing when to stop is as important as knowing how to advance. The goal of science is not merely to explore what we can do but to understand what we ought to do."
That night, when Yue'er verified for the last time that the deleted data backups were indeed irrecoverable, she felt a peculiar tranquility. Before the control‑room observation window, the universe's stars still twinkled in the night sky; each star resembled a qubit in the cosmic computer, executing some inscrutable computation in the endless darkness. And humanity, as intelligence newly awakened in this cosmos, was learning how to converse with this grand system—not as masters, but as students. "Some codes should not be cracked," she repeated softly, "not because they cannot be, but because they should not be. This is the mark of a mature civilization."