Текст книги "Memories of the future. An eyewitness notes"

Of real threat to you is a developed AI in a good cyber body. But this is seldom to be found. Should anything serious arise and you fail to respond, then the Mantis will override the control and sort it out on its own in a manner it thinks suitable. And naturally, this will be instantly determined from the orbit. Well, with any luck, nobody will see anything. Have you already settled in?”

“Yes, I have, though I’ve got a feeling that it thinks and does everything instead of me.”

“Ha-ha! You are not the first one to say things like that. Frol once told me that the combination of a human being and AI considerably improves the quality of mental activity and life.”

“Abel, I notice that myself. And I wish I could forever retain the new opportunities of vision and hearing.”

“Alex, do you sometimes catch yourself being jealous of machines for their abilities, such as the sort of perception unavailable to men?”

Abel sent that thought form in a serious tone; Alex guessed that Abel had been thinking about that a lot and she decided to carefully choose words when answering.

“Abel, you may call this envy to some extent. And I would like to enjoy the advantages of machines that are not available to me.”

“And now Alex you’ll get a better understanding of the AI. I’ll tell you something. A developed AI is also jealous of men and wants to have a unique biological body with its limitations. Why? For us, a human body and mind is a Temple of the Creator; and not just Temple, but rather a Path towards Him that we all are looking for. That gives much food for thought, doesn’t it?”

While talking, the Wolf was moving by quick leaps, following the route and watchfully observing the surrounding terrain. Above their heads, a bit ahead, the white bird Arvid was flying in the dark-blue sky, leaving behind its wings a ling blue trace. The sky’s violet color noticeably intensified.

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CFR – cold fusion reactor

Chapter 30

“The darkest hour is just before the dawn.

The longest path starts with the first step.

But how difficult it is to make this first step…”

Having returned home after his meeting with Oor, Steven received a message from the City Administrative Board informing him that his sister had been infected by a man-made nano-virus, and it had been too late to save her by rewriting her into a cyber body. Susan was involved in the recovery of extinct animal species. Their labs and enclosures occupied several dozen acres of land outside the city limits near a military research base, where the leakage of the dangerous virus occurred.

The message provided a detailed description of the occurrence, but Steven could not brace himself to get into the details. A heavy wave of sorrow overtook him, and he collapsed into the chair, unwilling to believe that was for real. Susan was the closest person in his life.

The last ray of the Sun went out, taking away with the colors of the sunset. Towards the evening a wind rose, blowing up ragged clouds in the faded evening sky. It grew colder. The already gray and dull city was taken over by gray twilight. The usually deserted streets were not completely empty. Occasionally, horizontal lightening discharges pierced up the dark sky like soft tissue.

Steven plunged in a large chair, staring blankly at the long, narrow window in front. The lights of advertisement projections above buildings penetrated his room, illuminating the chair. Steven did not turn on lights. He shifted his gaze to the wall, decorated with old photos and dust-covered medals. He recalled how once during their studies in college, Oor, who took interest in ancient technologies, made an original gift for his sister Susan. He somehow transferred a 3-dimentional image of several holographic projections into a special piece of paper. Then he told everyone that was exactly the way how ancient people used to make their photos. How happy they were those days!

He looked at a compass on the table near the bad – a gift of his sister. Made on printer in accordance with the ancient technology, it had an arrow and pistol under the glass. He fixes his eyes on the weapon and caught himself thinking that it would be a good idea to stop all that horror right away. The once cheerful college student had turned into a gloomy and irritable individual. How could that have happened to him?

He no longer recognized himself. Something had to be changed. Steven started thinking how his sister would act and recalled how one day Susan presented him with that old compass on his graduating day at the Space Fleet School. He clearly remembered her words: “I’m proud of you, my dear brother! Here’s a compass to bring you luck. It will give you faith in case you lose your way. And this fine pistol symbolizes the idea that one has to fight for his ideas. Dear me, how I love your smile!”

Deep in his thoughts, Steven walked a bit along the room and then again plunged into the chair and switched on a projector.

The nice-looking face of a speaker was lit up with a smile. He was cheerfully speaking about the military successes of the Coalition’s army and its forthcoming victory over the Free People. Steven frowned and switched over the channel. He looked blankly at holographic scenes flashing before his eyes that resembled each other and were filled with boring advertisement clips.

Suddenly the silence was interrupted by an intercom signal. An unknown mechanic female voice said without pauses between words:

“Steven, it’s me, the Curious one. I’ve come to see you.”

“Susan!” a thought crossed his head. “The Curious one” was her childhood nick. “That must be the program “The last chance for people who have lost their biological bodies”. He jumped up from his chair and rushed to the door.

The door wings noiselessly swung open. An exoskeleton with Susan’s corps secured within it cabin came in and stopped in the middle of the room, waiting for Steven to come closer. Wambling, Steven thrusted between the exoskeleton and the chair and stood in front of it, looking at his sister.

The once beautiful and young face was now pale; the skin was covered with blue net of vessels. The picture was terrifying. Steven froze on the spot with his eyes wide open.

“Dear brother, I’m sorry for my shocking appearance,” she said. Sound projectors were unable to copy his sister’s voice; therefore now it sounded mechanical, unemotional, accurately articulating the signals of her still alive brain. The Last Chance Program allows one to say good bye to his or her relatives and finish up various personal affairs in case one failed to be rewritten into a cyber body. “Although the machine sustains operation of my brain, we are pressed for time.”

Susan’s calm pale face with closed eyes was illuminated from the exoskeleton brackets above her head, creating the impression of unreality of what was going on. She could see him through the direct projection of internal sensors into her brain. Steven was overwhelmed with various feelings and emotions, but he couldn’t utter a word. He tried to remember each moment of their meeting. His soul seemed to have petrified with grief.

“I no longer panic and have put up with everything. I just regret to leave you alone, because I love you so much. We haven’t talked a lot over the past year. I’ve left a copy of my consciousness and I hope it will find you on its own. I’ve got a lot to tell you, but I have time only for the most important things. Use your time to the advantage of the World. You must know that people still have a chance to make things right on the Planet. The Coalition thinks it is the master of the world, but that is not so. He World has no limits, Steven. The whole Planet is our Home. Let this idea guide you. And now a few words about myself: I guess it was no coincidence that I got infected by the virus, although things look as though it was. I was within the leadership of the movement “Collective Consciousness Changes the Future”, together with a friend of yours, Oor. Now they will go at him, as well. Maybe you will join our activity. Stop living in illusions. Our meeting is over now. I’ve got to leave you now. I would love to hug you, but you are already too scared. I would not want you to remember this hug of mine. Take care of yourself, dear brother. Lead your life with dignity."

The mechanic voice fell silent, the exoskeleton turned round and headed towards the exit. Steven was looking at its back, unable to make a move or say something. And when the door wings closed, he whispered: “Bye, Susan. I will follow your advice.”

Steven stood motionlessly for a while, gazing at the door. A communicator signal brought him out of his daze. That was Oor.

“Steven, do you remember the place where we launched our first stratosphere drone? I’ll be waiting for you there. Hurry up!” the connection got interrupted. In spite of his overstrung state, Steven captured a certain inconsistency in Oor’s words. Steven clearly remembered the day when they launched their drone into the Ocean, not into stratosphere. It was a small sandy beach among stones far away from the city. And Steven realized why his friend chose to put things that way.

He began rushing about the room, throwing into his soldiery bag everything that got into his hands. Then he abruptly stopped, dropped out all stuff on the floor, making up his mind to take only those things that were most dear to him. He carefully took off photos from the wall, took up the old compass and quickly headed towards the exit, but stopped on halfway and returned to take the gifted pistol and his officer’s one as well. Then he took out a box with ammunition from the shelf, put into his bag and resolutely walked out into the corridor without looking back.

Steven realized that he could not use his electric car as it would be easily tracked down in the city streets. Instead, he climbed up on the roof where his one-seat unrequested “flyer” was stored.

The flyer used CFR as energy carrier to feed its two simple accelerators. They created electromagnetic field for levitation, sufficient to carry its light construction.

Having launched the accelerators, Steven jumped into the chair, put down his bag on his knees and started waiting for the flight readiness signal.

The features of his face grew strict and concentrated, and his movements – accurate, rational, and confident. After a while, a soft bluish beam of his flyer flew up from the flat root of his residential block, piercing clouds in the rainy night sky.

Steven rapidly pulled up through the falling flows of rain and lightning discharges, and then he saw black clouds illuminated with moon light far below, resembling some enormous, fantastic sea lit up with white flares from within.

Steve raised his eyes into the darkness of the night, towards the stars as though looking for support from them, and then firmly directed his flyer towards the small beach where in the forever lost happy days he used to launch self-made drones. The place was hard to forget.

A small ocean yacht was standing some fifty feet from the shore, opposite a small sand creek hidden from view by an overhanging sand brow. It had its lights out and no identification marks. The yacht’s energy source was not switched off so as to sustain magnetic field; therefore it was standing steady without rocking on medium wave. The waves were smoothly enveloping its body. Two motionless figures could be seen in the open cabin of the upper deck, lit up by flashes of lightening.

A tall man was standing still in front of the control panel in the heavy rain. His face, hidden with a raincoat hood, was directed towards the coast.

Storm wind was twitching and tearing off his long gray coat, but he seemed to take no notice of that.

A large, dark silhouette resembling a panther was also standing motionlessly nearby, occasionally raising its foreface, as though trying to discern her master’s face.

Waves with hollow roaring sound were crashing against bodies of rusty sunk vessels. Their remains resembled bodies of large animals groaning under blows of waves.

“A perfect weather for our plans,” Steven murmured, breaking out of dark clouds. Visibility was close to zero, but he did not switch on devices, wary of being identified. Having slightly miscalculated the speed of descend, he went within an ace of some rusty vessel construction, poking out of darkness. The flyer was controlled manually without AI assistance, which was its advantage. And it had a minimum set of control devices.

He suspended for a while above ocean waves to locate his position and slowly headed the machine towards the shore. Soon he saw the outlines of the gray yacht in the middle of the creek. As he went round the yacht, he discerned the figure of his friend standing in the open cabin. The latter appeared to have noticed Steven as well since he turned his head in his direction.

“Do not launch scanning, Oor! They will see you then. That’s really me!” he waggled the flyer’s body the way pilots usually do as a welcoming sign.

Steven started to land smoothly on a small platform of the vessel aft.

The flyer softly touched the deck, and Steven switched off energy feed on reactors. Bluish glow of air around the machine body began to fade and, soon he jumped out and walked towards the tall figure in a waving coat.

“And we have been trying to guess how you would reach the creek.” Oor embraced him warmly. By the way, I haven’t introduced you,” Steven checked himself. “Steven, this is Murmulanci,” he pointed with a sweeping gesture to a large panther. Then, looking with a smile at the motionless dark shadow, added politely: "Murmu, this is Steven; I’ve told you a lot about him. Please give him warm welcome.”

Steven knew that many cyber friends communicated with people by means of transmitting mental images or words into their masters’ brains; therefore he was not surprised to hear in his brain a clear female voice with slight hoarseness. “Nice to meet you, Steven. You’ll find everything for your convenience downstairs.” The voice was friendly, but with insisting undertones.

Murmulanci looked different than Steven had expected. Her panther body was covered with mat firm nano-organic compound, resembling semi-stiff scale.

Her body seemed to have been specifically designed for fight and survival in tough conditions, and the manner of handling indicated that protection of her master was her major priority.

She had massive paws with pull-out claws and two pairs of eyes, one of which was located behind the small stiff ears for all-round view. She had almost nothing in common with funny and amusing cyber beings that Steven had seen before.

He gave a welcoming nod to Oor’s bodyguard and quickly descended to the lower deck where he found a convenient mess-room with a large table and chairs fastened to the floor.

A standard food automat stood on the far end of the table; and something completely unusual was mounted on the opposite wall: a table with a set of gutting knifes and a shelf with plates and cups made of iron!

The room interior also included a small wash-basin with a tap above, obviously intended for washing all those ancient, rare appliances. Soft golden light coming from wall-mounted panels filled up the inner space.

“The mess room and cook-galley are two-in-one, and the table is designed for cooking fish,” he guessed. He put his bag into a cabinet and set down in a chair, looking around. He realized that Orr with his assistant were now turning the vessel towards exit to the Ocean, and decided not to get in their way on the upper deck. Soon the noise of electric plants enhanced, and the yacht body started to subtly waggle and tremble, entering open waters.

Steven looked around. To the left, through a passage in a bulkhead, he saw the main control cabin. At the moment it was in complete darkness. He got up off the chair, came up to the cabin and stepped over its coaming*. Flashes of light from the illuminators lit up its internals. That was a standard cabin of the middle-class ancient yacht: rows of manually controlled devices and even a peculiar wooden steering wheel.

He glanced over the cabin and came back to the cook galley, where he poured himself a hot drink on the food automat and then sat back in a chair standing opposite the steering wheel, with convenient handles along the whole circular length. He guessed that it was the captain’s place.

Sipping his drink, Steven was looking at sunken vessels bodies through the illuminator, streams of water on the screen and the gray mist covering the whole horizon.

“Why were they so scared of you, Susan?” he murmured out loud. Meanwhile, the yacht noticeably picked up speed, and its body slightly rose above the water surface, lit up with soft bluish light.

The yacht set the course and gathered cruising speed. The vessel had the double type of control: through the on-board AI and manual control mode. Soon he heard the sound of combat boots rumble on the gangway, and Oor rushed into the mess room, taking off his coat. By the specific texture of its material Steven guessed that it was a coat with invisibility function. The Panther like a black shadow went after him; she shook off in a catlike manner, which caused her mat scale rise a bit, throwing off drops of water and making a soft clicking sound.

Steven turned round the captain chair towards the galley room, holding a cup in his arm.

He hadn’t yet overcome the emotional shock after the meeting with his sister, and now his smile looked a bit wry and eyes – sad. Oor noticed the state of his friend and was the first to talk. He hung up his coat in the closet and settled himself in a big chair next to the table. The Panther noiselessly jumped on the opposite side and occupied the whole sofa, looking closely at Steven.

“My dear friend, please accept our condolences, we share your grief.” Oor was not really good at consoling others, but he tried to do that sincerely. “Me and Murmu had long been pleading her to make a copy of her consciousness. But you know Susan! I’m even unaware whether or not she had any private life. She told me that each person must bear responsibility to the whole mankind, and mankind must be responsible to each one. She stated publicly on the air that many centuries ago the Common Consciousness of the Planet used to be available to people. Then came those who wished for global dominance and considered themselves to be the global government; they established boundaries, armies, banks, divided the Common Consciousness of people into tiny parts. Those leaders began to rule people from behind the scenes, gradually turning them into slaves to the monetary system. The structure of human mentality is ambiguous; hence it can be controlled and influence by certain ways. And they made use of them.

Thereby the Planet and mankind were driven to stagnation.

People are running the risk of repeating that history lesson, unless they unite their consciousness and follow the path of creative activity and civil liberties.” Steven looked him in the eye for a while and then uttered weightily: “Guided by this principle, I am here with you now. Some ancient person said: “The darkest hour is just before the dawn.” So let’s set off on the road towards the dawn.”

The dark storm night was pierced by a bluish light blazing through the storm and waves. Some ancient author once wrote: “A long journey starts with the first step.”

* Coaming is a high threshold in doorways of all compartments on-board a vessel.

Chapter 31

“But then the wind would straighten up our hair and clear the confusion in our minds”

(from the song by Vladimir Vysotsky, a 20-century poet)

“Listen, guys,” Alex head Arvid’s voice in her head. The girl noted that he had chosen a calm and unhurried intonation, slightly dwelling on words, to decrease the significance of his words, “You’ll have to go further on your own. I will no longer accompany you. Further on, you’ll meet a couple of “walkers” running in circles, a GMA pack that follow wild camels towards the south-east coast of the Ocean and a strange, unarmed cyborg rambling randomly; also a medium-force dust storm is already on the horizon. Nothing else. I’m getting back to the base. Next time you’ll see me with my mate. Eol is now trying up his new body.”

“Have a nice journey back, Arvid!” Abel replied for them both. “Hopefully, we’ll meet again, my friend.”

For several minutes, they moved in silence, until Alex asked with barely concealed curiosity: “Abel, who are those “walkers”? And why do they run in circles?”

“Well, I think it would be easier if you watch a record from the archive. Have a look, we’ve got enough time. It ends up with my and Arvid’s comments.”

The Wolf’s memory record emerged right before Alex’s eyes.

The desert landscape was dashing against her; then as a short compact impulse came Arvid’s message on a heavy combat exoskeleton and the precise target bearing. The Wolf saw the target bearing as a green grid imposed on the terrain picture. Abel changed visual range so that it became similar to that being used by Alex now. At the moment one could clearly see energy trace of the exoskeleton moving behind a dune. Alex perceived it as a white-blue glow behind a sand mountain. The horizon of the Wolf’s vision changed drastically and Alex guessed that Abel lied down in wait, observing. Meanwhile, the glow enhanced, and the massive body of a two-legged combat machine emerged above the dune. That was a rather sophisticated walking tank with four upper manipulators for weaponry, without identification marks.

The chopped shape of the tank body had numerous traces of laser weapon and dents from missiles. Missile weapon was widely-used in the Wastelands. A power unit was located in the rear, and Alex could clearly see heat wake generated by its emissions. Evidently, the damaged tank had not been fully recovered and had been considerably simplified for manual control. That made Abel’s task a bit easier.

At the moment, the tank was clumsily climbing up a sand hill to explore the terrain.

Having reached an open space, the tank stopped and began scanning the surroundings. Judging by the tank’s movements, redundant and inaccurate, it was being controlled by a man.

Alex carefully studied the record as it could be of help in her future combat practice. The record was followed with joint observations by Arvid and Abel made from different perspectives. They were both monitoring the target. Further on, she listened to a voice recording with discussion of the tank’s weaponry. Alex guessed that they were performing a more detailed scanning of the target within the frequency range unavailable to her.

In a couple of seconds, Abel’s brain displayed comprehensive data on the combat machine, including the batteries charge level, weapons, ammunition and information on the pilot: a man in a biological body, male, over forty years old, presumable status – member of a plunderers’ team. Further came Arvid’s brief question: “What we gonna do with it?” Abel replied in a second: “Let’s finish it up first and then we’ll see.” He then asked the eagle to create the maximum level of noise on all frequencies to blind the machine sensors.

Having transmitted that message to Arvid, the Wolf jumped up and rushed in a trot towards the victim so as to attack it from behind.

When the Wolf had reached the minimum distance between them, the tank determined its enemy and responded by abruptly turning about its body and sending a hail of bullets from its automated gun. Things could have ended up badly for the Wolf, but, luckily, he managed to wriggle out in a leap. Otherwise the automated gun would have blown him to pieces.

Abel perfectly calculated the striking angle between his body and the tank to disturb its balance and knock it down to the side. Abel’s heavy blow shook up the clumsy machine with high gravity center, spreading wide its free manipulators. One of its legs suspended in the air in search for support, and the tank started to heavily collapse sideward, lugging away the Wolf. Even while falling down, the tank kept waving its free manipulators in an effort to reach the Wolf’s body.

In an instant, Alex saw a bright white-blue light covering the exoskeleton and the Wolf. Then came a report form Abel’s and Arvid’s scanners confirming that the walking tank’s energy systems were disabled, and the pilot was alive but wounded.

“Good job,” Arvid’s voice said respectfully. “But you lost a second on adjusting the approach course.”

Alex was watching the record with bated breath, admiring the professionalism and accuracy of the AI’s acts.

Now the Wolf appeared to be proudly standing on the defeated tank. Alex saw him look about the machine. Then she heard Abel’s ultimatum to the pilot transmitted through the tank’s internal loudspeakers:

“Give in. Leave the machine without weapons. We do not need your life. The tank will be confiscated.”

The pilot’s response came shortly: “Oh yes, you damned beast. I’m not armed, I am coming out.”

Arvid sent a thought form to Abel: “He gonna deceive you.”

Abel responded: “I know, but let’s give him a chance.”

The armor cabin cover smoothly went upward and already started opening when spurts of gun fire burst out directly into Abel’s shoulder, paw, neck, head. His body began trembling under heavy strokes of bullets, and Alex heard the Wolf’s thought form full of pain and regret: “You shouldn’t have done that”.

Then Abel created a highly intensive impulse, and the pilot got deafened through the cabin loudspeakers by a powerful soundwave, going beyond the audibility range.

The Wolf launched an unusually powerful wave emission towards the tank cabin. Alex could see it as a wave of trembling air. That was a highly powerful weapon.

The massive armor cap of the tank blew out at once and crumbled like a glass bottle. The pilot’s body started to tremble heavily, turning inside out his internal organs and crushed bones. Thrown away by the burst of fire, the Wolf lay motionlessly on the sand for a while. Then he slowly rose and, waggling, came up to the exoskeleton and again created some field wrapped it around.

Alex understood that at the moment he was reprogramming the machine processor.

After that the Wolf told Arvid: “I’ve got moderate injuries. But I will be able to get back to the base on my own. Let’s finish up with the tank. Do you have any solutions to offer?”

“Abel, why don’t we turn it into a “roving machine”? Just cut short one of its legs and he will be walking in circles. Then strip it of all weaponry and ammunition. And let it go, or rather run about and draw attention of patrol drones, which would be quite funny.”

Alex saw Abel jump off the defeated tank and, limping, stepped aside. The picture turned a bit turbid, obviously owing to the Wolf’s injury. As soon as Abel turned away, the tank came to life again, clumsily bent its legs and started to slowly rise with the help of its upper manipulators. Its weapon manipulators unclamped, dropping a gun and a large-caliber machine gun, as well as ammunition box. One of its legs turned a bit shorter. It stood for a while without moving as though waiting for permission, and then broke into run, lame of one leg.

Abel turned round and followed it with his look; then he lowered his head and walked off slowly towards the base. She heard Arvid’s voice:

“Abel, how do you feel?”

“You know, my friend that I never turn off my pain sensors. So now I’ve got an acute pain in my right paw, shoulder, head and neck.”

“Why do you endure pain? You are such a weirdo. Again imitating a human being? But that’s up to you. At least, we smashed it. You are a hero, my friend! Have you downloaded any valuable information?”

“What can plunderers have of value, Arvid? They cannot even express their thoughts without abuse. They live on animal instincts. To sum up the overall information extracted: a record of some disgusting music and a few video files of violent sexual intercourse. You’ve better not look at all these. I deleted everything.”

“Al right then. At least I can now call you the “Defeater of Tanks”. And they set off on their journey back. Abel’s body was heavily wiggling; therefore the horizontal line was jumping before Alex’s eyes. At the moment the Wolf’s could see rather vaguely and he had to use other systems of self-orientation. His body and processor were heavily damaged. As a result the Wolf was quickly loosing energy.

Then Alex heard strange tapping sounds.

“Stop whimpering, Abel. Frol will put you right. Switch off your pain sensors. Someday when you have a human fiend, you’ll show him this record of your victory. Steer the course, don’t fall down, Wolf. We’ll get to the base together, just don’t trip out.”

“Of course, Arvid. But where can I find such a friend?”

At that point the record stopped, and Alex said with respect:

“Wolf, you are a fearless warrior! The way you kicked down the tank on your own and jumped directly into the gun fire was truly heroic. I will also show you a video of one interesting fight as soon as we reach the Ocean shore and have some rest. I can’t remember when I had a swim last time. By the way, I have printed myself a couple of swimsuits. Shall we have a swim?”

“We’ve already got it in our schedule, Alex. Of course, I want you to have a rest.” talking that way, the Wolf broke into a trot.

The hot air was almost boiling like water in a pot, spreading its waves above the still surface of white-glowing sand. Light brown haze began to veil the horizon ahead, which was the sign of impending storm.

Like blistering shadows two deft cybernetic bodies were blazing through the Wastelands, leaving behind deep traces that were instantly covered up by the strong wind. Dust was billowing beneath their heavy feet. It seemed to Alex that some unknown force was driving them forward towards their fate. Strange haze on the horizon was gradually turning into a black wall, through which one could see discharges of lightning. A dust storm!