Last weekend, the nineteenth international literary conference on science fiction, "RosCon," took place at the "Forest Glades" boarding house in the Moscow region. The conference hosts a variety of events, including workshops aimed at novice authors led by Sergey Lukyanenko and Yevgeny Lukin.
Participants need to submit a short story. The organizing committee conducts an initial moderation for compliance with formal requirements and selects the necessary number of stories for each workshop.
During the workshops, the stories of all participants are discussed, and the respected master provides recommendations, critiques, and ultimately chooses the best story. The winner receives a commemorative certificate on the main stage of the event.
I was fortunate to participate in Sergey’s event, and now I am publishing my story for public view. The literary community had a rather mixed reception to the story. Perhaps it’s partly because it is very "geeky." I hope it finds its readers on Habr, and I will have the opportunity to conduct A/B testing of feedback from different audiences.
The story is under the cut. Any questions or critiques? I look forward to comments.
IZABELLA 2
At the approach to the perinatal center, there were no parking spaces. Anzhelika was circling the small streets looking for a place to park, but there were absolutely no spots available.
In the back seat, her two percent daughter—a highly intelligent and active three-and-a-half-year-old girl—was sitting. The little one had reached the age where a person becomes aware of rules, and she was extremely upset by anything that even slightly contradicted prohibitions. There were inscriptions left on the walls of the houses.
"There are some little hooligans here; we should put them in jail!"
"We can't put everyone in jail."
"But they are criminals! They’re ruining the walls!"— her daughter’s outrage knew no bounds.
The car drove another third of the short street and came up against a traffic jam. Right in front of her daughter’s window was a gray wall of a house with a bright rainbow painted on it. The daughter pondered for a moment:
"Mmm… these are some kind of good hooligans…"
Anzhelika immediately had a series of associations related to the rainbow flash through her mind, and she sighed sadly. How could such a originally pure image be so tarnished?
The little one couldn't concentrate on anything for long, so she switched her focus:
— Where are we going?
— We're going to buy you a little brother.
We've arrived.
As soon as they got out of the car, the little one immediately screamed that she wanted to be "held." Angelika's thin back ached from the weight. But Angelika didn't mind. Her daughter rested her head so gently on her shoulder and snuggled in so close that Angelika melted with affection. The little one was only a two-percenter; could she really nestle like that with someone else?
Entry to the perinatal center was through the registry office. Caring robocaregivers took the baby to a waiting room, while Angelika proceeded to handle the paperwork.
— You need to make a down payment and sign the child support application.
— Okay, I would like five percent.
— I'm sorry, but our parental scoring allows only two percent for you. To be precise, the initial payment is twenty thousand credits, and the minimum for child support is half a percent — a maximum of two, but only if you pay the increased down payment and insurance. You're too young a parent; you're only sixteen, and you need more professional viability.
— But why?
— I'm sorry, but the scoring algorithms are not disclosed in detail.
Angelika came for her second child, but she was again given only two percent. She already knew that with two percent, she could expect about seven days a year. Angelika agreed to everything but noticeably felt sad.
Next to the bot approached a shy young man with a badge from the space IT service. Angelika had never seen him before. He was probably Anton's acquaintance. Anton had warned Angelika that he would introduce her to someone new at conception. Edward processed his paperwork. He was just a bit older, but he was granted seventeen percent. Perhaps they would have allowed more, but he specifically asked for seventeen. A very thoughtful young man.
Angelika looked at Edward with envy. Seventeen is really cool… That's a whole sixty-two days.
Edward-seventeen. That’s how she started calling him to herself. I need to build a relationship with him — he seemed the most attentive of all the other parents — we could agree on convenient dates.
By law, if more than fifteen percent, you can choose which days will be yours; if less than five, you are a minority shareholder and have no choice — you can only be with the child on the days determined by the main parents. Don't even dream about holidays or weekends.
Soon, other parents appeared; she knew the others and smiled warmly at everyone.
They approached a chatbot that moderates the conception procedure and issues the corresponding certificates. The bot's voice rang out in the silence with cold solemnity. A grand speech echoed through the expansive Hall of Conception, supported by a light echo.
— On this solemn day, we have gathered to achieve conception.
Angelica shuddered.
— Stand in a circle.
A laser drew a circle on the floor and marked spots where each of the future parents needed to stand. Angelica quickly found her initials on the floor and took her place.
— Extend your right hand forward.
Everyone extended their hands.
— Do you, Maria, agree to achieve conception?
— Yes, I agree!
— Do you, Anton, agree?
— Yes, I agree!
So one after the other.
A robotic arm extended from an inconspicuous niche in the ceiling and, with a barely noticeable needle, collected a tiny drop of blood after each "Yes, I agree."
Finally, all permissions were obtained and the biological material was collected.
With the precision of a robotic surgeon, the arm transported all samples into a cube in the center of the room. Nothing particularly special seemed to have happened, but suddenly it became very unsettling. Angelica felt an icy silence hanging in the air. She realized — the light musical background that had unobtrusively accompanied the ceremony all this time had disappeared. But that wasn’t all.
The silence hadn’t come for no reason. It seemed that the room had vibrated slightly and from a neutral white suddenly became glowing green.
The voice announced:
— The conception has taken place! Congratulations to the parents!
Then it continued, no longer solemnly, but in a melodic, soothing manner:
— As in ancient times, six passionate hearts merged into one under one roof and in a single impulse performed the great sacrament of shared sin and brought new life to the world…
Angelica thought that she hadn’t really merged with anyone just now; she extended her hand, so what…
— In the name of the planet "New Tver", by the power granted to me by the Senate of the planet and the people of the empire, I hereby proclaim you accordingly:
— Anton, parent one.
— Maria, parent two.
One after another.
— Angelica, parent six.
The music resumed, playing a solemn old march.
Fedor muttered under his breath. He and Maria had accumulated twenty percent, but the Chinese-random chatbot only classified him as parent three. In Maria's gaze, however, there was a spark of joy.
Angelica also received her certificate. Parent No. 6. Now she is a mother of two children. That's something to be proud of! It's a pity that the child is not expected for at least two months.
— Hold on! There’s a mistake here!
Angelica's face flushed with rage.
— Where did parent seven come from in our certificate? There were only six of us!
— Parent seven is a DNA donor, correcting critical gene sequences to known correct ones.
— I don’t understand, we pay for this, and he does it for free?
— It has been proven that this leads to the birth of more intelligent and healthy children.
— Well, don't you want to at least introduce us?
— Don’t worry — parent seven has long been deceased — their exemplary DNA is stored at the Kostanay Center for Standard Measures and Weights… It is well studied and absolutely safe — therefore, it is used to complement sequences when forming embryos.
Edward approached:
— The state sponsors childbirth, covering up to twenty percent of expenses, and in return wants to receive healthy and mentally developed members of society — so it's all for the greater good.
— Well, this is some kind of cheat!
— Don’t worry. — Edward turned to the chatbot: "Robot! How much does our DNA intersect with parent seven's sequence?"
— Ninety-nine point nine percent.
— See, we are almost not defective, and almost nothing needed to be corrected…
Edward smiled and instantly stopped appealing to Angelica. She felt uneasy about this interference. How can a person who has long been dead become a parent?
Edward looked over Angelica's documents.
— Wow, this will be your second child? Do you really love kids? Why?
— Probably because I'm an orphan and I was raised by robots?
Angelika turned her back to him and walked towards the exit. She had firmly decided not to communicate with this unpleasant guy anymore.
Train
Angelika had just turned eighteen. She was a young, attractive, determined girl. She had straight, well-combed light hair that fell long below her shoulders. She was traveling alone. However, she didn't have to go far. Three hours by train, and she would be there. Ahead of her lay marriage and a new life.
Angelika was nervous. For the third time during the trip, she decided to check the documents she would need to present upon arrival. There were only two documents.
A draft certificate with the emblem of the space fleet and a personal instruction for the crew member of the spacecraft, marked with a passing grade.
The draft stated that starting tomorrow, she was appointed as the wife of Lieutenant Venichkin V.V., residing in such-and-such place... That she would be declared the wife from nine in the morning of the designated day and that she must arrive at her husband's location by that time. The marriage was set for the lifetime of the spouses unless... there were no children in the first two years of marriage, or one of the spouses dies. The stamp of the family and marriage commissariat.
Below, in small print, were the conditions for contract termination, deportation, and fines in cases of lack of offspring and a bunch of other items. This was included in the standard contract and did not scare Angelika.
The instruction was dramatically monstrous. It regulated everything — the daily routine, the distribution of duties, how to cook, how to wash, everything...
The instruction even contained paragraphs about marital duty and literally stated:
According to your physiological parameters, the most productive sequence of actions would be as follows: the woman should undress, kneel, lower her head, and quietly moan until the man fulfills his actions according to his instructions and informs that the marital duty has been performed. After that, she should lie still for ten minutes with her legs raised and then wash thoroughly. Repeat daily.
This contradicted everything Angela had ever known about reproduction; theoretically, she was aware of such an archaic and ancient ritual as sex, but sex as a means of procreation contradicted all her life experience. Almost all her friends had already become mothers, but none of them could even think of such a method of reproduction.
Angela had read about sex in history textbooks, but she never thought it would be so simple. The ancients paid too much attention to it, but wrote very vaguely — the instructions for astronauts were much clearer.
Angela looked again at the cover of the astronaut textbook. In the picture, the spacecraft loomed over the city. It was indeed huge, but you still couldn't fit a perinatal center into it. That was big too.
Angela continued to reread what she already knew. The astronaut training course didn’t seem so overwhelming to her anymore. Roughly speaking, she expected another high-level math course, but it was something like physical education. She would manage!
Train
Tram tararam… The train suddenly brakes, and many things fall from the shelves. What happened is unclear; people in the train are running around screaming 'Accident!'. A robotic conductor flies into the carriage. He was very small, like a tennis ball, hovering in one spot — shouting a line:
— We need a programmer!
Instantly moving to another point, he repeated his call:
— Comrades passengers! Is there a programmer among you?
As it turned out, despite his size, he could be very loud when needed.
The dynamics of his movements resembled a hummingbird's flight. The conductor, while moving, made soft whirring sounds from a tiny motor that was barely noticeable.
— We need a programmer!
At first, Angela didn’t realize what was needed, but finally, she responded:
— I! Programmer of the third category. Specializing in small technical and household robots.
The conductor hovered next to her in obvious confusion.
— We have a problem with the robot that controls the locomotive. I don’t know if you can handle it…
Angela understood his doubts. The locomotive robot was reserved for first-category programmers because the train is a high-risk transport vehicle.
Angela was just a graduate of a school for orphans with a focus on applied programming.
Angelica ran after the conductor to the locomotive. Leaving a train motionless far from the city is dangerous on this planet. If the locomotive isn't repaired, one might get caught in a storm or surrounded by herds of wild livestock and then one can only break through with external support. Therefore, if she can help even a little, she must help.
— Stop!
In another car, the conductor found a first-class senior programmer and immediately reassigned the job to him. Angelica sighed with relief. They forgot about her right away, leaving her alone.
She looked around.
The train had no windows, and it was highly discouraged for anyone to go out on the surface of the planet away from the cities. Today was a lovely day, but even now it was felt that there wasn't enough air, yet there were plenty of other impurities, and one could lose consciousness and collapse at any moment. But it was very beautiful. Angelica saw things she had never seen before, and she was breathless. She was even delighted by such a rare opportunity to see the world from this point.
A red gas giant hung over the horizon during these morning hours, blocking the entire lower part of it. There was no heat from it, but everything around was bathed in pink reflections of the boiling energy on it.
As far as the eye could see from the road to the city, everything was built up with single-story barracks or greenhouses, two-thirds of which were dug into the ground, where the star's energy was converted into potatoes and cucumbers. Most of the residential buildings were already abandoned and looted, with only the central part of the settlement remaining inhabited.
A little further, beyond the city, loomed the huge body of a spaceship. It was extraordinarily wide and unimaginably tall. It was frightening. Too gigantic and absurdly shaped. With its worn-out casing, it seemed that some ceramic piece would fall off at any moment. Here and there, construction scaffolding still remained, making the spaceship look even uglier and larger.
— Soon it will fly away and nothing will be left here at all.
Angelica flinched; she hadn't noticed that other people had exited the train. A hunched man with a face blackened by dust stood next to her. A worker from the space construction or the mineral quarry, Angelica guessed. The man took a big gulp from the bottle he held. For a moment, he seemed very old to her.
The worker noticed her gaze.
— Do you remember how it all started?
— No, I wasn't born then.
— No one remembers anymore. It was supposed to be the flagship of an entire series. Plans were made to reach a pace of two ships a year… — the man's gaze became completely dull.
He took another sip and stared at his bottle of 'Isabella' in his hands. 'Isabella' is the name of a local wine. It tastes like a glass cleaner diluted with a bit of honey.
— It was doomed from the very beginning, but each year it just became more melancholic. In the end, we always had plenty of 'Isabella.' We drank it in the evenings and on weekends, and when the melancholy became unbearable, we started drinking it in the mornings too. Gradually, the word 'Isabella' itself made its way onto the ship — it became its name.
— I thought it was an advertising contract?
— At that time, it was an advertisement for hopelessness.
Angelica wanted to say that actually, this was the only chance to get out of there, and she was one of the six hundred young men and women selected for the flight on this ship. What hopelessness was he talking about? But she hesitated… What are a few hundred people compared to the millions who would remain here forever?
Angelica had seen a film that was shown to the first settlers.
It said that the star system was located at an optimal point — right in the middle of two major star systems. It stated that there would always be travelers passing by, and they would have to make stops for supplies and rest. This 'New Tver' the narrator joyfully announced in the film. Angelica didn't know such a name as 'Tver' to appreciate the attractiveness of the offer, but the narrator's voice captivated her with its enthusiasm.
— We are between two capital systems; it all depends on us!
— Yeah, we're in a hole with one cinema and a dumpling house, where there's absolutely nothing to do.
The film about the planet depicted it as a rainbow prospect, but in reality, that prospect had practically vanished as soon as filming was completed.
In the first generation of colonists, new engines emerged, or rather—new principles of movement, which once again transformed the notion of distances in space. This drastically altered the attitude towards the Planet. It had become a useless, forgotten construction site. Not even a province, but almost an uninhabited refuge for oddballs.
This was the case two generations ago before Angelica, and it still remains the same now. Everyone who could have left did.
Angelica coughed. Of course, she had resistance to this atmosphere, but one still couldn't breathe this air for long.
"It's good that I'll be leaving soon," she thought. "It's scary, of course, what's out there in the distance, but it's better to take the risk than to regret not having tried for the rest of my life."
She returned to the train car, waiting for it to be fixed while hiding behind the air filtration device.
Her husband's house
When Angelica woke up, she was initially frightened by the unfamiliar place, but then remembered where she was. She was in her husband's house. Judging by the sounds outside the door, he had finally come home.
Angelica quickly got dressed, tidied her hair, and cautiously peeked out the door.
Husband. Yes, after nine, she could call him that, stood in front of the mirror trying on the shirt she had brought. There was such a tradition, carefully written in the instructions, that upon first meeting, a girl presents a shirt of her choice.
She really liked how he looked in it. Her husband had a good figure; he was tall and muscular. All the girls who passed the selection for the flight studied photos of the men who would be on the ship. It was unknown until recently which pairs the ship's computer would match them into, and the girls spent hours examining the photos of all the candidates, imagining who they would like to be paired with. At that moment, Angelica decided that she was quite lucky.
The shirt that Angelica gifted was pink with a fitted waist. Her husband was turning every which way in front of the mirror, wearing it with a pleased expression, but he still hadn’t turned to face Angelica.
— Do you like it?
— Yes, it's a great shirt, I like it. Wasn't there one like this for men?
Her husband took off the shirt and threw it on the chair, putting on his usual lieutenant's uniform.
Angelica handed her husband a small plastic card.
— What is this?
— This is my dowry.
— A dowry is good.
Her husband scanned the card and his expression darkened.
— Is that it? So little?
— It’s all the scholarships I earned during my time at the boarding school. I barely spent anything, I haven’t started working yet; this is all I've saved…
Her husband made a sour face but immediately held the card to his mobile to transfer the money to his account.
— Well, okay, what have you prepared?
Preparing a dish is another ritual that a girl must perform when meeting someone for the first time.
— Borscht.
— Borscht is good.
The lieutenant rushed into the kitchen like a hungry pig.
— What kind of borscht is this? Borscht has meat, and this is beet and cabbage soup…
— Well, we don’t have meat in our daily ration; it’s just a broth cube.
— There may be none in the ration, but others must bring it; families save up for such occasions.
— I don't have a family; I'm from an orphanage…
An awkward silence hung in the air as the lieutenant husband ate, trying not to show any appetite.
— You didn’t greet me.
Angelica hinted that her husband also didn’t perfectly perform the ritual.
— You were late.
— There was an accident; the neural network on the locomotive went out of balance. It became afraid of shadows from large boulders and couldn't move on. We had to bring in a programmer to retrain the entire visual module. You should have seen how virtuously he did it!
— There will always be excuses, — her husband retorted, instantly making Angelica feel guilty again.
Finishing his soup, her husband immediately began to prepare to leave the house.
— I’m off to training, see you.
— Bye.
Left alone in a strange house, Angelica didn’t know what to occupy herself with. The day felt incredibly long. She tried to read something, tidy up, learn something, but everything slipped through her fingers.
The worst part was the uncertainty — when would her husband return?
She decided to call him. The mobile phone picked up. Her husband had a very stylish mobile, too expensive to be anything but a status symbol. One of those that arrived in the last batches from the mainland. A black sphere, moving almost silently through the room. Like a bumblebee, the size of a tennis ball, wingless and following her husband everywhere. Like the conductor from a train, only performing personal assistant functions.
The phone answered the call and turned on the stream of the tatami, where the husband in wrestling trunks was tightly intertwined with another wrestler and was so engrossed in the fight that his phone couldn't notify him that someone was calling. The phone circled above the tatami trying to catch his eye. Finally, the husband saw it, but waved it away.
We'll talk later!
But he didn't call back.
The husband came home in the evening, a bit 'tipsy'. He had been celebrating a friend's birthday at a bar. He certainly smelled like 'Isabella'.
Wife, don't you have the instructions?
I do.
Then let's go.
***
Following the instructions was not to Angelica's liking. Physical education is one thing, but this is not quite the same. The worst was the smell that lingered in her nostrils. The scent of someone else. It didn’t go away even after a day. 'This must be some mistake!' — kept spinning in Angelica's mind. It can't be like this; the journey lasts thirty years, during which at least three children need to be born, otherwise only old folks will arrive in the new world. But I can't live like this for so long!
Nevertheless, this continued for two weeks, with the husband spending all his days with friends or at work, while he only devoted time to her in the evenings for the prescribed procedures. Moreover, those procedures became longer each time.
After two weeks, Angelica exploded.
I'm leaving you!
Go ahead, the next ship will be built in about one hundred and fifty years, if it even gets built.
I don't need you at all! You only need your friends! Why do you even want a family?! Do you even know what a family is?
Actually, you don’t know what a family is. I have had and still have normal parents, while you are from an orphanage—you simply have no idea how to behave. You've spent your whole life in a group of girls and robots — how would you know how to act with a man!
In the end, Angelica emotionally lost this battle and ran to the bedroom, threw herself on the pillow, and cried fiercely for several hours.
The mention of parents hurt the most. Angelica cried like a beluga. She didn't have any particular thoughts at that moment. She was just processing her helplessness and loneliness into rivers of tears and sobs.
***
In the evening of the next day, the husband came for Angelica and, as usual, demanded that the instructions be followed.
Wife, it's time to start. Why are you still not in bed?
He seemed to have gotten a taste for and accustomed to their measured routine during these weeks.
Go to hell.
But the instructions, right? — The husband was astonished, like a kitten seeing a ball of yarn.
I've studied it well. Daily — if desired. Sanctions only for not having children in the first two years. There are no others. So go to sleep.
The husband jumped in to defend his assets:
If you don't like something right now, you just have to keep going, and you'll get into it. It wasn't easy for me at first either, but I made an effort, and now I'm focused on perfectly following the instructions, even the points marked for the top performers. You studied mathematics, didn’t you? It’s mathematically proven that the matchmaking algorithm works perfectly. The Albin Theorem! We make the perfect pair; you just haven't realized it yet...
Of course I studied mathematics; I'm a programmer! Don't feed me nonsense. The algorithm based on the Albin Theorem predicts the perfect pair with 100% certainty only when it works on complete data, and it’s unknown what the recommendation by the commission is based on. By the way...
Angelica suddenly fell silent and seemed lost in thought. The husband continued:
Of course the commission relies on the questionnaires we've filled out. Plus public data about us from government sources. Plus medical databases... That's more than enough data for the algorithm.
Angelica wasn't listening to him; she went online and started sending a bunch of requests. Suddenly, her face fell.
What? — The husband was startled.
I know a few hackers, not personally, of course, but online. They have a database on all the planet's inhabitants, going back to the first generations of settlers. It’s the most comprehensive there is; if I could download it, I could load it myself into the matchmaking algorithm and see who my perfect pair would be.
Well, come on, you think the commission is mistaken? Go on, I’ll definitely be the answer!
Maybe, but we can't check; the database is paid, and you don’t just get it for free. If it weren't for an old acquaintance, they wouldn't even talk to me. And I have no money now.
Angelica looked her husband straight in the eyes. He moved closer to the screen and looked at the price they were asking, his eyes widening slightly.
Well, let's say I give you this money and it turns out the algorithm chooses me again. Will you do everything the instructions prescribe every day?
Angelica nodded silently.
— What if I ask for something special? Not every time, but at least once in a while?
Angelica nodded again, though with some fear in her eyes.
— Your husband is not a miser, my dear! Mobile, give her as much money as she needs for this purchase, and we’ll close this issue!
***
The next few hours were spent setting up the environment for the necessary computations. The database with information about people was downloading, but it turned out to be significantly larger than Angelica expected. Waiting for the download of crazy petabytes took a long time.
Her husband got nervous and kept trying to control the process, apparently fearing that Angelica might somehow manipulate the results, but she herself didn’t need that at all; she actually wanted to know the plain truth.
Her husband insisted that exactly the same algorithm be used as the one specified on the website of the marriage commission, the exact same version. Despite the fact that there were already newer algorithms available that were essentially the same but worked faster, Angelica agreed and downloaded the required version of the recommended algorithm’s source code from the commission’s repository.
The wait was so unbearable that she agreed when he dragged her to follow the instructions. Fine, whatever, just to distract herself.
Finally, everything was downloaded and prepared. Angelica started the computations. Her husband stood behind the chair and watched her work. Controlling and enjoying it. After all, when someone does a job well, it’s nice to watch. Especially if it’s your wife.
The data was split into uniform packets, spread across tens of thousands of computation cores. Matrices were multiplied by matrices, tensors by tensors, and scalars by everything. The digital processor shattered real-world data, extracting the magic of hidden patterns invisible to the human mind.
Finally, the machine gave an answer. The ideal match for Angelica is… Her husband burst out laughing. Laughed like a nervous horse.
— How can this be? Are you a lesbian?
The ideal match was listed as some Kuralai Sagitova.
— I lived my whole life in a women’s dorm, but nothing like this ever happened there; maybe we made a mistake somewhere!
— Ha-ha-ha, — her husband continued.
He found Kurilai's profile on the official social network of the settlement. Unfortunately, the photo was taken in such a way that it was impossible to understand what the person really looked like.
— Well, if that’s the photo, then she’s probably as ugly as a fish, who else would post something like that? Anzhelika stayed silent because she had a kitten picture on her profile.
— You can clearly see her crooked legs! — her husband was staring and wouldn’t stop.
— Ha-ha-ha! Go to your ugly one — do you want money for a taxi?
— I don’t need anything! — Anzhelika got nervous.
Until late at night, Anzhelika was checking for results. Was there any mistake anywhere? Her husband was still occasionally laughing at her and sending her to the mysterious stranger, but Anzhelika angrily refused. She couldn’t find any mistake in the calculations, but it was still too much for her.
Anzhelika started reading manuals on algorithms based on Albinsky's theorem and greatly improved her mathematical knowledge. In particular, she learned that the algorithm looks for "a person with whom you will be fundamentally happy." Anzhelika didn’t know how to translate this literally, but she got the gist. The main thing was that there was no direct indication that a partner of the opposite sex was being sought.
No other explanations could be found.
***
Early in the morning, her husband, as usual, left for training and then for duty. Anzhelika was left home alone.
What if it’s true? What if there’s no mistake? Anzhelika tried to imagine what it would be like to spend her whole life with another woman. She even began searching for answers in the manual; extended versions of the spaceship's instructions with additions and comments existed online, which were recommended only for specialized workers but were freely accessible. However, nothing similar was covered there.
However, there was a section about infidelity, stating that "engaging in the specified actions with another man besides the husband is grounds for…" and then listed various penalties. Technically, according to the instructions, you could do anything you wanted with another woman, and it wouldn’t be considered cheating. Not that Anzhelika was planning anything, but she made a mental note of it.
After some time, Angelika caught herself reading Kurai's blog. There weren't many posts, but Angelika liked her way of thinking. Kurai described moments from the colony's life with irony; much of it felt witty and fresh, resonating with Angelika's own thoughts.
In two days, the launch of 'Isabella' was scheduled to take place. This was definitely the main news across all media outlets.
When Kurai wrote about it, Angelika decided to message her privately, saying she was also flying and could share her experiences. They immediately started exchanging messages and chatted half the day away. Kurai was interested in everything — she was delighted by Angelika's stories, and Angelika was thrilled because no one had ever listened to her so attentively.
— But the perinatal setup is too bulky to put on a spaceship!
— What nonsense! Can you imagine how much food all those people would need, and how much space, and water? And all of that has to fly! You could send only the setup and test tubes with DNA to a new planet, and the spaceship would be three times smaller.
— Then why?
— Well, first of all, we simply can't make it. We're a backward colony. Secondly, we don't trust machines enough to send a population to another star that a machine would grow. What if the machine goes haywire like that locomotive you told me about? What kind of people will arrive at the other planet then? A woman is old-school, reliable, rational — so stick to your thirty-year plan.
— Wait, how can we not trust the perinatal center if we're all from there?
— Listen, you're a programmer; we've been making machines we don't fully understand for a long time. We're okay with them working most of the time, and if they break, a programmer comes, but only if the error is noticed. But what if the children grow up and turn out to be schizophrenics — it will be too late to come. There was a situation like that, for instance, on Cererra-3. The whole colony died out then.
— Still, it's more efficient. After all, we all came from the perinatal center, and we seem fine 🙂
— Ha-ha, yeah, sure, everyone. You sound like you've been listening to official propaganda 🙂
— How so?
— Like this! Come over, and I'll tell you 🙂
Angelika didn't expect everything to happen so quickly. She was taken aback. On the other hand, there were only a few days left until the launch, and it seemed that there was no other way to find out the truth.
Angelika started getting ready. She styled her hair, put on makeup, dressed up, and was about to leave. She undressed, changed her underwear to match the color of her top. When everything looked good, she glanced at herself in the mirror. "You definitely look like you're going on a date, even though you're just going to take a look," she thought as she left the house.
Kuralai's house was on the outskirts of the city. Even further than the outskirts, in a quiet yet charming area. Stepping out of the taxi, Angelika felt lost. There was an entire farm here; animals were in pens, and nearby, greenhouses could be seen with someone moving around inside. Clearly, they were people, not robots.
Angelika gently knocked on the door. She heard footsteps from inside, and Kuralai opened the door. The girls stared at each other, wide-eyed.
— Mom, Dad, look who has come.
From the depths of the room, two elderly people emerged and were taken aback. Angelika stepped inside, stood next to Kuralai, and it became clear that they looked indistinguishable from each other. Like identical twins. Same figures, same faces, even similar hairstyles.
— How is this possible? — the question hung in the air unanswered.
— Mom, Dad?
— Sister?
***
Launch day for 'Isabella.' Angelika and her sister are watching it from their parents' home on the far outskirts of the city. Two little girls are swirling around Angelika. Most adults went to watch the launch from the industrial site at the spaceport, and children weren’t allowed to go due to increased radiation during the launch, so the minority of parents willing to stay with the kids that day were worth their weight in gold.
— It seems we are not even remotely at the center of the events, don’t you think?
— Those who refused to play in the play, they should not suffer for bad seats in the audience…
— Ha-ha… — the sister laughed, — Don’t you regret refusing to fly?
The girls looked at each other and burst into laughter.
— Will you stay with us or go back home?
— If you let me, I’ll definitely stay. Look at how many of us there are…
— Mom is crazy about you and the girls; she will be happy.
On the horizon, the spaceship began to warm up its engines. The entire sky above the city was covered with clouds, illuminated by the pink light of the local sun.
I heard that yesterday they found two more of those "type orphans" like you. The commission conducted an official investigation. It seems the perinatal center handed over all the "extra" children to the orphanage due to a programming error when they had twins.
It must be chaos there right now.
Probably... They're trying to figure out if it's a bug they recorded here or if it came from the capital already.
The starship begins to roar with its engines. A countdown ticks on all the planet's monitors. The launch is happening tens of kilometers away from the observation point, but the ground still vibrates, and a distant rumble can be heard.
You can hear the speakers of the stereo screen in the bedroom on the second floor of the building spluttering with excitement. Father preferred to watch such events with expert commentary on broadcasts, while the girls wanted to see it with their own eyes.
The pre-launch countdown begins, and the announcer is filled with wild excitement, like a ring announcer before a boxing match...
This is a great day for all of us! Let’s prepare for a journey ba-a-a-a-a-a-ck into the cooooooosmoss!!!
Finally, the spacecraft lifts off the ground, soaring to a height of several kilometers.
Suddenly, a jet of fire struck in an unintended spot. It burst from the surface of the ship like a bright spark. From a distance, it seemed tiny, but the giant body of the ship barely swayed to the side. The control system made an attempt to stabilize the ship, and it succeeded easily. A signal was sent to the left side engines to add a little thrust, the ship jerked in the required direction and momentarily stabilized.
The engine exploded.
The fire spread to the fuel tanks, and they burst into flames. It went off with such a bang that fire engulfed half of the sky hemisphere.
The ship's hull breaks into several pieces and falls down on the city. On the residential quarters, on the perinatal center, on the industrial site and the factory, on the farms, on the station... The space around the wreckage of the 'Isabella' burns in the hell of oxidizing fuel. The disaster occurs so quickly that absolutely everyone loses their ability to speak.
Sister grabs Angelica, who grabs the children, and the children scream.
They barely manage to sit down and close their eyes before the explosive wave hits them. It upends cars, tears roofs off buildings, breaks trees, and vanishes just as quickly as it appeared.
People tumbled to the ground in a heap, but fortunately, no one was seriously injured. It was terrifying; the windows flew out of the house, and dishes were broken. Dust prevented them from seeing beyond ten meters, but aside from scraped knees, there were no serious injuries. Elder relatives emerged from the half-destroyed house, seemingly unharmed. Angelica kept checking on the children, asking if everything was okay.
Her sister tried to squint into the distance, but she couldn't make out anything. She was in shock.
— My God, how many people, and there’s nothing left!
Angelica also looked towards the catastrophe and now couldn’t turn away.
— Maybe something is left, — said Angelica, placing one hand on her stomach and wrapping the other around her little girls.
The mobile phone appeared unexpectedly. It was strange to see that the cellular network was functioning after such a catastrophe. A black sphere flew a few circles around Angelica, confirming through the dusty cloud that it was its owner and began to chatter as if nothing had happened.
— Message from server the automated multifunctional center for city services. As all other parents perished in the catastrophe that occurred twelve minutes and forty-five seconds ago, your share of parental status for both girls is now the largest. Given the new circumstances, you now have the right to the title of parent one, maintaining the previous amount of alimony. Would you like to create an application to re-register your status?
— Uh...
Angelica was at a loss for words, staring at the little ones. Did they understand what had just been said or not? It seemed they did not. But robots, — heartless machines... Angelica wanted to smash server, the one who sent this message personally, but judging by the fact that it survived the catastrophe, it was hidden somewhere very deep underground...
— Sorry, Angelica, I didn’t understand your response.
The polite tone of the mobile phone confused Angelica, and her aggression subsided.
— No need for 'parent one,' just write there... 'mom.'
Source: habr.com
