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

“Flop, it’s admissible. I have always wondered how you would feel on the Planet under gravity. Would you be able to move around, or would be sticking on one’s shoulder all the time?” asked Oma with a smile.

“Well, if we allow for gravity, it’s going to be like this,” at these words he quickly turned into a jellyfish cupola, swiftly jumped up and got attached to the control panel. His body turned violet, and out of his sides grew six tiny shot legs that looked like those of a squirrel. He did a short run along the panel and then, pleased with himself, he asked: “Isn’t it great? I’ve just invented this form by myself.”

“Flop, you’ve got to make small ears as well. And a tail for balance. Then you’ll be able to jump despite gravity,” she carefully examined her small friend.

The isoform instantly let of a tail and ears and became even funnier.

“As for the tail, it’s quite clear, but what are the ears for?”

“Just to cheer up those looking at you,” Oma gave him a broad smile.

“I see…Does it mean that if I take this form on, I’ll perk up everyone’s mood? Are all people the same?”

“No,” Oma shaked her head, “people are different, that’s the point. And that’s probably because each person is all unique.” she stole a glance at Raju.

During that conversation, Oma gently picked up the isomorph in her arms.

“Flop, do you ever feel bored? The same thing happens every day, isn’t it? After all, you have no access to the Cyborg Dreams. You mind should require to process new knowledge and interact with the world.”

“Of course, even isomorphs are aware that everyone’s mind needs development, but personally, I no longer feel bored since I’ve found a way out. After a long search along the lanes and alleys of the spacecraft, I found a way to develop my perception! If you hook into the crystals of commander’s collection and choose the directory “ancient anime” you will get infinite potential for learning the world! You may not be familiar with such masterpieces of anime as Howl's Moving Castle, Tales from Earthsea, Ghost in the Shell? And what wonderful prophesy one can find there! By all means, now they sound like revelations of the Wise. I will read that out to you. Flop gave his audience a meaningful look and recited a poem, evidently trying to make an impression:

Среди борьбы и разрушенья ,

Жрецы отвергнутых Богов,

Твердите Ваши откровенья,

И верьте Силе Ваших слов.

Тот свет, что Истиной вы звали,

Веками, превозмочь никто не смог.

И вопль врагов глухой, неясный,

Да не переступит ваш порог!

Without waiting for the audience’s reaction, he looked around and said in a perplexed tone “I just don’t remember the author of these lines. It’s either our esteemed commander, or Hermes Trismegistus himself.”

Looking somewhat blankly at the isomorph, Raju mumbled “Flop, you must have found it in the file “Private”, while delving through my personal archives. Is there any corner in this spacecraft you haven’t poked your nose into? But whatever. If you have acquired an isomorph, you’ve got to put up with that. Well, Flop, it didn’t take you long to get to my records and collection! And how did you find them?”

“I didn’t search for anything. That’s how it happened. According to the instruction, I was on a duty flight along the ship, keeping a close watch on everything and prying into every corner, when I found out that the commander’s room remained unchecked.

As I got inside, I immediately set about checking that everything was in order, peeking into every corner, until I came across the only personal thing belonging to the commander. It was a box made manually of authentic rare wood according to ancient technology. Any sentient being, on seeing such a box, would feel like opening it. Therefore, it was almost impossible for me to merely put the box back without looking inside.

And inside there was a memory crystal, almost unprotected against scanning. Of course, I just had to take a peek into it out of scientific curiosity.

Aside personal materials and records of our commander which I took no notice at, there was the collection itself. Can you imagine my joy? Now that I got an opportunity, after a difficult and sometimes dangerous watch on the bridge, to retire into my tiny corner and enjoy the projection of anime art masterpieces. Believe me, it’s incredibly boring to live attached to a bulkhead or illuminator if you are not a chewing gum.

Now that I can watch anime I am happy with my life and stay in full harmony with my alter ego. Both of you see your Cyborg Dreams after watch duty, don’t you? Why don’t you tell me just once what’s going on there?”

Oma was taken aback by the isomorph’s inartificial behavior. Raju was looking at them both with a smile.

“Flop, how did the cabin of the captain’s second mate come to be your “tiny corner”? Besides, you turned it into a warehouse and a workshop. I saw with my own eyes some small electronic beings ceaselessly scurrying from the cabin that you had occupied and running along the whole ship,” at these words Flop became rather nervous. He slowly flew up to the wall and made an attempt to fade into it.

And what are you cyber cockroaches are doing?” Raju asked, looking perplexedly around to spot the isomorph.

“Let me explain everything!” Flop got unstuck from the wall and appeared in front of the commander’s face.

“I’ll begin with the cabin: upon logical reflection, I realized that the position of captain’s second mate remained vacant and, therefore, I decided to take it together with the cabin which I am entitled to by virtue of this post. In fact, it’s a little massy now, but thing is, our ship-based warehouse became too small for me and so I relocated some of my developments to my new cabin.”

“What sort of developments?” the captain’s voice sounded rather surprised than angry.

“What developments? Technical, intellectual ones, in the first place. I have designed small cyber assistants to conduct control over all systems of the spacecraft. And mind you, they are not scurrying, as you’ve put it, but doing their watch and each of them has an assignment.”

“Aria,” Raju turned to the cruiser’s AI with barely repressed laughter, “What do you think about these cockroaches?”

“I am in favor of Flop’s initiative. There are plenty of places uncovered by my sensors,” replied the spacecraft’s AI and ironic notes were heard in her voice.

“Commander, can I come up with a new initiative?” Flop turned to Raju and stared at him, “Why don’t we together watch some interesting ancient movie form the collection! And another suggestion: let’s project the movie not inside the crew cabin but directly in front of the spacecraft with the largest possible screen size!

Perplexed by the scale of isomorph’s idea, the captain at first didn’t know what to say, and while he was groping for words, Oma exclaimed:

“Commander!”

All of a sudden, a hologram appeared in front of her.

“I’ve got a signal from one of our “Hanumans”. Looks like we are not alone here.”

Chapter 7

“You’d better spend your life, Johnny, on doing what you like, or else you’ll be receiving blows from fate”

(words from a country song)

“Have you finished orbit rimming, Piggy? Why can’t you stop that damned rotation, you know, it drives me mad! Check the oxygen! Turn it warmer, at least here, in the crew cabin. I need a full scan of this orbit, and right now!” hoarse, irritable cry was heard throughout the cabin.

Commander of “Tyrant”, a heavy shuttle of the Coalition’s outer space reconnaissance unit, Steven Hook was on duty on that day and therefore was out of sorts. The sure sign of his annoyance at the whole crew and outer space itself was his referring to the stuff by nicknames he himself invented, which, in his opinion, helped maintain discipline onboard.

Chief assistant commander, Edward Gray, round-shouldered, short man with constantly disheveled dark hair, was staring at the spacecraft’s operating indicators and the new orbit’s characteristics. At such moments, he would leave the captain’s words without reply, fully concentrated on maneuvering the heavy “Tyrant” and nervously biting his lip.

The crew cabin was wide open, and beside the door one could see a chair of the onboard engineer Hagan Lange, a tall, gangly young with dark-blue, badly cut tumbled hair and bright-green eyes. At the moment, he was focused on the data received from surveillance satellites.

Right from the very start, he had been unhappy with the choice of that orbit, which was known as the “trash belt” and stretched from the height of 160 to 750 kilometers. But he kept his opinion to himself for fear of the captain’s scathing retorts. What he disliked about that duty was the constantly annoyed voice of the “hysteric lady”, as he and Edward called the captain among themselves.

Hagan had long been expecting a transfer to ground service and therefore, tried not to get in the way so as to ensure that was his last watch in Outer Space, after which he would enjoy a calm job at the headquarters.

Meanwhile, “Tyrant” was being put on a new orbit and its flight position was being stabilized.

The silent Hagan was known for good intuition, which he trusted, and now there was something that made him worry, and he thoroughly studied the scanning results and report of the surveillance satellite.

The first thing he realized was that there were not enough satellites to create a full picture of the orbit and the space surrounding the spacecraft. And that uncertainty was fraught with threat.

One could never know for sure what was hiding among the piles of perished ships’ debris. There could be sleeping mines, surveillance satellites bedangled with weapons, and even a compact yet highly maneuverable powerful cruiser.

The height of 500 kilometer is the most trash-strewn” Hagan thought and, without waiting for the captain’s cry, shifted all data to the first mate’s monitor. “Maybe I should tell Hysteric that we are badly exposed here? A good target. He has so stupidly positioned the spacecraft. Right in the center of a vast area free of debris. I guess I’d rather keep silent. Or else he would be making fun of me. On the other hand, the scanner has not detected living beings. It’s not an easy task to hide a spacecraft even among big debris, so there is no reason to worry.” Hagan silently closed the door to the crew cabin, tipped back in his chair and began adjusting instruments for reconnaissance purposes.

Hagan had a passion for spacecraft engines. His brain fit out with nano-chips could easily model thermal processes and energy schemes of engines intended for flights to other planets. Sometimes, when he was carried away with his job, he would talk to his creatures, bringing his calculations to perfection. Creating ships for far-off space travel was his favorite job and the only passion. But was it possible to realize that dream while sitting in a tiny on-board engineer’s compartment?

At the moment, he was trying to push along current protocol of instruments operation so as to return to his favorite job and to plunge into his own world, the world of stunning powerful machines.

Meanwhile, the reconnaissance satellite “Hanuman-12” in close proximity of “Tyrant”, hastily adjusted the orbit, put weapons on alert and continued drifting amidst piles of debris, remaining unseen and unwinking.

In that way, by a twist of fate, “Ares” and “Tyrant” found themselves located at a mid-range distance between each other. “Ares” like a beast was watchfully observing its victim without giving itself away by means of dozens of scanners and surveillance satellites that “Tyrant” had unhappily come in sight of.

The "Ares" crew quickly made a decision to monitor the enemy and to keep it at gunpoint and then, while being unnoticed, take under control over all communication lines.

Chapter 8

“When having a controlled dream people can use their time for self-development.”

(A writer’s words at the forum of fantasy author. Early 21st century)

Upon Alex’s approach, the door of the medical compartment noiselessly opened and she underwent yet another decontamination procedure, which was compulsory before dipping into nano-gel.

A standard bio capsule was a silver spheroid installed in the center of a vast room illuminated with warm light from wall-mounted panels.

She came up to the unit, whose upper part softly lifted up, and nano-gel inside was glittering with bluish light.

All she had to do was just lie down in that bath and relax. A glass cupola smoothly closed above and Alex was wrapped around with soft, warm weightlessness of nano-gel. Unhurriedly, Alex got inside the capsule and instantly slipped into gravity-free state.

Gradually, slight sleepiness and detachment of consciousness got over her, and Alex, indulging in that state, started falling down somewhere. Some vague, elusive images and light spots were slowly sparkling before her eyes. Alex was well aware of the inconsistency of activities in controlled dreams and, having gone through a few preparatory stages, she mentally formed surrounding space and music.

Now that was splendid panoramic view of Outer Space. Numerous stars were slowly emerging and thickening out from light spots. And she set off drifting along the grandeur of Space, watching gaseous nebulae burst in blossom with wonderful colors, while the alluring light of stars and brightness of superstars engulfed everything around.

The eternal, like Space itself, mantra “OM” softly went into that reality, pervading the entire space and dissolving in it. One stunning picture was replaced with another. Alex was flying through the Eternity amidst marvelous stars. She felt overwhelming joy, happiness and tranquility.

And then, amid that beautiful reality, Frol’s voice uttered softly “Alex, synchronization.”

She felt slight movement in her brain owing to his presence. Close to her, a teenager figure gradually emerged; he was barefooted and dressed in a white loose knee-length shirt and white trousers. He was standing nearby, and his wavy red hair was slightly flapping in the unseen wind, and large blue eyes were sparkling with joy.

“I also love Space and enjoy listening to songs of our forefathers.” Frol gave a gentle smile “Mankind came from the stars. I’m pretty sure of that. Or else we would not be so attracted by Outer Space.” He came up to her and pensively said, “I can see plenty of contradictions in human beings, Alex. On the one hand, people love life but on the other, they are ready to destroy anything, even their home – the Planet. Let me show you something” and Frol began forming his reality.

A multi-voiced chorus singing mantra “ОМ” was replaced with organ music, and before their eyes reeled the blue surface of Oceans and a continent shoreline emerged from somewhere over the horizon. The picture began to slowly alter and soon Alex saw a black and white vision of soldiers wearing some odd uniform, seemingly without exoskeleton or any signs of body protection, except for iron semi-spheres on their heads. The figures of soldiers rushed out of a long hole in the ground and ran towards their enemy through smoke and explosions. They were armed with ancient weapons. Long gun barrels had wooden gun butts and knives at the end.

The running soldiers were suddenly covered with a wall of explosion, and Alex saw that many of them were left lying motionlessly on the ground. Some were crawling, having lost direction, while a few survivors kept up an attack.

“Now look at their leaders. I deliberately haven’t upgraded the file to show you the level of their technology of image recording. At the time, only monochrome format was available.”

Then she saw figures in uniforms and black suits, moving in a prideful manner and treated with reverence by other soldiers. They seemed to be crying out some angry words with respect to their enemies, pushing for war, while the surrounding mob responded with enthusiasm.

The technology of that time did not to permit to preserve their words. The important people were wearing lots of decorations and marks of honor of different size. All of them were bowing and smiling to other people also covered with decorations, then they all were sitting at a table served with natural meals and having talks. Special servants were waiting at the table.

Alex was looking wide-eyed at the picture. And Frol continued his account.

“That was the First War, it ended on its own accord. The world was divided unfairly, mostly in the interests of a tiny bunch of people who were in possession of all money.

Imagine that! Less than one percent of all humanity, and not of the most developed kind, could easily impose their will on such huge number of people. Monetary system! In cheating common people they got active support of those in charge of information. Those were monochrome sheets with letters called news-papers.

Thus, the system of money and method of ruling the World were stabled and started developing. That way, mankind moved ahead, depleting the Planet’s resources and undermining the environmental balance. All you’ve just seen they called vital values and taught to their children. However there were those who had a different opinion.” Frol made a pause.

The picture in front of Alex turned colored but still inconvenient for perception.

She was silently watching crude technologies utilized by people at those distant times: there were exhaust pipes emitting smoke all around as hydrocarbon technologies were on the rise. Rotary excavators were actively annihilating the Nature, mining valuable chemical raw materials. Those machines left behind dead lands, unfit for life. Seas and fertile soils were being destroyed, and the Planet was gradually turning into desert; people even competed in making that faster and more efficiently. That utter madness had nothing to do with real progress.

Science made no further steps to increase the technology level since it had been taken under control. That state of affairs was justified by the fact that people owing money strived to extract even more profit from depleting the Planet. The people of that time perceived that as success, and were quite pleased, believing that the Planet could forever endure such treatment. And then Alex again saw before her eyes figures of soldiers shod with boots marching in lockstep and looking with admiration at a leader standing at a podium.

And then again there were soldiers but now armed with fully metallic weapons. Columns of clumsy iron machines with weapons attracted Alex’s interest and bewilderment.

“This is the Second War of mankind. And everything was the same as in the First War: it was a bunch of people with huge money who arranged that war. They were descendants of those who launched the First War; now it was their turn to lead people to the slaughter. And again the war pursued the same interests: money, power and resources. Human life and mind were still treated immaturely. They were not valued.

Science did exist but it was aimed at military needs. There were enough resources to feed and educate all mankind, but that was not the case. Again, false priorities were set – money and power.

Then followed the chronicles of the Second World War, Alex stopped asking any questions, and Frol himself was keeping silent. That part contained information on the extremely violent nationalist ideology through the example of concentration camps.

What she was now watching went beyond the bounds of her perception, as never before she had seen anything as horrible and violent as that.

And when, right before her eyes, emerged an enormous mushroom of nuclear explosion and its repercussions, Alex fell into a state of shock, watching it in silence.

Alex had previously been unaware of such detailed facts from the Chronicles of mankind.

She kept thinking of how hard it was to create life in the Universe, to give birth to and develop human mind and to even find, construct or preserve a Planet suitable for human life and mind!

She was also thinking of what outrages mankind was capable of when the highest aims of mind development were exchanged for the false principles of money and nationalist ideology.

Then Alex saw a leader ruling over the descendants of those who thought themselves to be the Planet’s masters, who lied to people and conceal his real intentions, deluding them with vain promises and false facts. He gained possession of resources required for harmonious life of common people, and then again set out on preparation for a new war. And the history repeated itself. People sincerely believed the liar and eagerly prepared for a new war, considering it as a means to lighten the burden of their life. In a variety of ways they were led to believe that people living in other countries were their deadly enemies.

Alex was brought up on different mentality principles and standards and immediately felt the contradiction that Frol was talking about. Based on all she had seen, she concluded that the obvious purpose of reasonable human beings had nothing to do with killing each other and destroying their home – the Planet.

And it would be logical for people to identify those to blame for implementation of that unhuman plan so as not to repeat the same mistakes in future. Misguided by the parasitical “global elite”, people committed a lot of follies and came to the deadlock. Though there was still a chance to get everything right.

Since there were those who said: “Enough!”

And threw down a challenge.

Alex and Frol saw migration flows engulfing other countries, and statesman lying to conceal their real intentions. Meanwhile, three wise Leaders of their countries created a strong alliance and saved their peoples.

That moves raised hopes for a harmonious future of Mankind.

Chapter 9

– What are you, Mind?

– I’m your elder brother.

( a fragment of talk )

Suddenly Alex realized that an exterior party was interfering with the compilation of documentary films. Frol had disappeared, and the girl no longer felt his presence.

The whole space around her began to change. The projections of historic events had faded and come apart, and she found herself all alone amid bright stars and immense Space. The music died down.

Gradually, the whole surrounding space became filled with light. That light extended the reality created by Alex, and then, changing its intensity and pulsing, turned into white, void space that was perceived as an enormous while hall with high vaulted ceilings. The floor of the hall was made of while polished marble slabs.

Alex did not notice any sources of light; it seemed as though the air itself was shining on its own. Interested, she began waiting what was next to happen.

After a while, against the background of that picture, slowly emerged some creature with dim outline and ever-changing shape. At the moment it looked like a youth with big while wings and lovely face. Then the figure changed again to assume the shape of a beautiful elusory female face.

Out of the blue, Alex heard a clear voice saying: "I am that Light. Like you, I’m merely His creation. You and all other people can comprehend the Creator. That is the purpose of mind and life".

Soon the face began to fade, and the light itself gradually abandoned the hall. Then the picture began to change again.

Alex found herself in the midst of bright stars; she could hear the music again that had been playing at the beginning of her dream.

“What was that all about?” there was no answer to that question.

Over a short period of time, Frol reappeared beside her, wearing his white homespun clothing.

He gave her an oblivious smile and slowly dissolved out of her space.

Alex felt like staying alone with her thought, and so, silent and reflective, she drifted towards the stars, and the marvelous and elusive music flew after her.

Chapter 10

“War is a ninety-nine percent routine work.”

Winston Churchill

On-orbit patrol service required special forbearance, patience, ability to stay alone for a long time, but pilots gradually got accustomed to that. What left no one indifferent was the magnificent view of the Sun setting and rising above the Planet’s horizon.

In the crew cabin of “Ares” cruiser, soft sounds of Antonio Vivaldi’s violin piece “Summer Thunderstorm” were heard. Raju and Oma, tipped back in their armchairs, were admiring the marvelous panoramic view of the Planet.

From the orbit, the Earth’s atmosphere looks like an almost transparent bluish layer, tenderly surrounding the whole Planet. Below the haze of the upper layers one can see caps of white, remarkably beautiful clouds. Some of them twist into huge spirals – future cyclones, while some are motionlessly hanging above the endless expanse of blue oceans.

From outer space, one cannot see how cruelly people have dealt with their sole home – the Planet. The atmosphere appears to be crystal-clean, clear, and pure. Below the azure oceans, one cannot discern enormous drowned nuclear waste repositories, plenty of which have long been depressurized.

When observed from Outer Space, the Planet continues to look clean and welcoming. And, strange as it might seem, even at the times of war, there were those who believed that everything could be changed for the better and spared no efforts to that end.

In fact, an inherent feature of mankind is to keep on believing, even when there is no hope left.

“What’s up with energy? Why is it always so cold in the cabin?” asked Steven Hook, rubbing his hands and casting angry looks at the first mate.

Edward Gray turned his head to the captain and then again stared at the projectors. Having guessed what the reason was, he cried out in the opened door to the on-board engineer.

“Hey you, stringbean!” and then, duplicating captain’s intonation, he passed Hook’s words over to him.

In a few seconds, Hagan accurately reported: “The basic resources are at the limit. It will be impossible to draw any more energy. I’m going to open the battery umbrella.” Soon Hagan’s voice was heard again: “Emergency protocol. The battery failed to open. I’ll inspect the spot through external camera”.

Capitan was highly unhappy with the bad news. He began nervously fidgeting in his chair, but did not reply. Now Hagan’s voice sounded concerned: “It might be external damage of the antenna boom, which is unlikely, rather the terminal might have been damaged during the orbit transfer.”

For some reason, Hagan’s voice always had a reassuring effect on the captain. Thoughtful and prudent, he avoided redundant words. The captain and first mate were silently waiting for the onboard engineer to voice his opinion.

“A repair is required. I must go outside. Can I start?”

“All right, go ahead” Steven replied in a less annoyed voice “Be careful out there. And you”, and he turned to Edward “make me some hot coffee.”

Hagan was a punctual person and so, having decided to go out into open space, he first set his workplace in order. He took out from the processor his storage crystal and hung it on his neck under the suit.

The crystal was his personal talisman and repository of his engineering designs on rocket engines. Drawings, schemes and all sorts of his ideas were contained in it. Hagan expected to return to his favorite occupation after the war, although he did not believe in successful outcome for the Coalition.

He looked around his desk and started putting on his spacesuit, trying to reckon what tools to take along.

Chapter 11

Twists of fate find us on their own

“Oma, do you have intelligence data on “Tyrant”?”

The normally calm Raju’s voice was now a bit strained.

“Patrol shuttle of the “Scout” type, standard weaponry, three-person crew, resource stock-pile for an eight-day flight. Background on “Tyrant”: recently annihilated two of our communication satellites. This “Tyrant” is merely a small depredator.

“Oma, let’s take it off. Why should we tolerate it for eight days? Assign the job to the nearest “Hanuman” and make sure it’s done quietly without excessive casualties” the commander was looking at the holographic picture of “Tyrant” in front of him as though trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

Having left the hatchway, Hagan immediately headed towards the solar battery umbrella that had failed to open. He already approached the body and set about searching for the cause when he felt inexplicable anxiety, although there were no obvious grounds for that.

The reconnaissance satellite “Hanuman-12” completed orbit adjustment, got stabilized, and in accordance with the instructions on the enemy crew, activated combat ultraviolet laser. It determined the shuttle engine to be the optimal hit point and sent a three-second impulse.

Then it reported to “Ares” through laser-beam communication and displayed a picture of the whole process: “Tyrant” drifting against the background of Earth, a small figure of man in spacesuit massing about in the middle of the shuttle body. “Hanuman-12” immediately took the man under control and pointed him out on the screen with a green ellipse for the consideration of the captain, who was at the moment calmly watching the happenings. In the tail part of “Tyrant”, a red cloud emerged, which then turned orange and, all of the sudden, flashed into a bright white explosion.

The injured shuttle shuddered and necked down. One could clearly see that the engine section was on fire. Another internal explosion followed, throwing lots of tiny shards out of a huge hole in the ship’s tail part.

“Tyrant” shook up again and began to rotate desperately, throwing shards all around. The man’s figure bending over the antenna was hustled away from disabled spacecraft, and, tumbling awkwardly with his hands straddled, flew away into open Space. Space fight was usually short.

Hagan could barely realize what had happened. He felt a strong, noiseless blow, and the whole world became rotating before the glass of his helmet. Thrown away from the spacecraft body, he saw scattered shards and flame and felt that he was rotating. Panic-stricken, Hagan realized that the spacecraft had come under attack and crashed, and that he was all alone now. Gasping for air, he was tumbling in space. As he was turning, he saw the Earth, crashed