{"id":32876,"date":"2019-10-31T21:49:28","date_gmt":"2019-10-31T18:49:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/prohoster.info\/blog\/kvantovoe-budushhee-prodolzhenie\/"},"modified":"2019-10-31T21:49:28","modified_gmt":"2019-10-31T18:49:28","slug":"kvantovoe-budushhee-prodolzhenie","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/prohoster.info\/en\/blog\/news\/kvantovoe-budushhee-prodolzhenie","title":{"rendered":"Quantum Future (Continued)","gt_translate_keys":[{"key":"rendered","format":"text"}]},"content":{"rendered":"

Link to the first part.<\/a><\/noindex>
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0
\nChapter 2. Martian Dream<\/a><\/noindex>
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0
\nChapter 3. Spirit of the Empire<\/a><\/noindex>
\n<\/a><\/noindex><\/p>\n

Chapter 2. Martian Dream<\/h3>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0On a small hill on the surface of Mars, leaving shallow footprints in the red sand, a young scientist named Maxim Minin strolled, having arrived twenty minutes earlier on a passenger flight of INKIS to the spaceport of the city of Tule for an invitation to work with the leading Martian corporation 'Telecom-Ru'. Maxim sincerely believed that there was no conspiracy of Martians against humanity, and the revelations shared in drunken whispers in the kitchen after the third bottle were mere pitiful justifications of unsuccessful losers. He intended to achieve a cozy spot somewhere at the top of the telecom pyramid through hard work supported by his refined mind. Max genuinely believed in the realization of his Martian dream.<\/a><\/noindex><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He was dressed quite carelessly: in a woolen knitted sweater, slightly worn jeans, and black boots with thick soles. A whirlwind of fine red dust rose above the stones, but obedient to the will of the program, the grains of sand falling on him instantly melted away like early snow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 On Mars, belonging personally to Max, everything was like this: half real, half fictional. Not far from the hill, a translucent wall of a gigantic force dome abruptly dropped into the ground, created by ultra-powerful ring emitters of an electromagnetic field crowning metal towers a kilometer high. All seven towers formed a perfect hexagon, with the eighth, the tallest, located in the center, visible from the spot where Max stood. The nearest tower, with its gray, grim bulk, propped up the dark Martian sky, while the distant ones appeared as thin lines crossing the horizon. Each of them had its own atomic power station to supply the emitters' coils. Around the rings sparkled and crackled a crown of miniature lightning, reminding of the terrible power coursing through the metal bodies of the towers.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A heptagon, inscribed in the circumference of a partially destroyed shallow crater, enclosed an area of several hundred square kilometers with a force field dome. In the space filled with breathable atmosphere, a completely ordinary earthly city emerged, while the areas left free of buildings were filled with beloved pine groves and clear bodies of water. Even many species of feathered inhabitants, not to mention animals, adapted to life inside.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 By Max's whim, sounds of the big city he was accustomed to in Moscow reached him: the roar of the crowd, honking cars, clattering and ringing, the measured thumps from construction sites. Of course, real Martian cities are hidden deep in caves, there are no dangerous and expensive force field domes in sight, and when any form of life besides humans is detected, a biological alarm signal is activated. But virtual reality offers ample space for any fantasies. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Beside the force field dome, like an artificial lake, there spread a smooth concrete field of the spaceport with dishes for radars and control towers at the edges. At the docking gates stood several heavy cargo ships. They resembled giant beetles with fuselages smoothly transitioning to the bottoms at the engine nozzles. The passenger terminals looked like reddish domes, shaped by plasma 3D printing from Martian sand and rocks. They even included transparent sections for admiring the surroundings, only slightly yielding in strength to the meter-thick dome ceilings.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 On a granite pedestal in front of the passenger terminals of the spaceport stood a silver bird with short wings and the characteristic angular body of the first shuttles, gazing proudly upwards. Worn and battered from a long life, it miraculously retained the thirst for great discoveries in the predatory shine of its black nose and leading edge of its wings. The best machines always possess a strange combination of traits \u2014 the spirit of the machine, which makes them almost alive. The silver bird on the pedestal was just such a machine. It had never landed on the surface of Mars, delivering only descent modules, but enjoyed its honorary rest right here. Every day, technicians in spacesuits blew compressed air over the ship, dislodging red dust from the tiniest cracks of the deteriorating hull. They worked especially hard around the inscription \"Viking\" on the side of the ship. The nose of the \"Viking\" was oriented towards the geographic north pole of Mars. On the opposite side of the terminal, \"Storm\" faced south, while the spaceport was guarded by \"Orion\" and \"Ural\" from the west and east \u2014 four famous ships that secured Russia's leadership in the global space race at the dawn of the era of interplanetary flights.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Amidst this backdrop stood Max. He read out the message, although he believed a brief chat message would have sufficed. But his girlfriend demanded the illusion of live communication, and quick connections were too expensive.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Hi, Masha, I arrived safely without any major incidents. INKIS ships are quite reliable. However, spending three weeks in cryosleep is an experience below average. Plus, there are two layovers at orbital stations. On the bright side, as you understand, the prices for INKIS flights are significantly lower than those of competitors. I can already imagine Telecom \u2014 those cheapskates won\u2019t shell out for a business class cabin on the 'NASA-Spacelines' liner, which makes it to Mars in five days. They say we need to be patriots, but what the hell does patriotism mean now?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The local gravity causes plenty of issues: I keep crashing into walls and knocking locals down. I need to sign up for a special gym, or else in a year or two, I\u2019ll only be able to move around in a wheelchair on Earth. Overall, it\u2019s easy to get used to gravity, but unlearning it is a bit more challenging, although it is possible. What really bothers me here are the Martian quirks about ecology. It\u2019s a bit extreme; back in Moscow, the ecology is so terrible that rats and cockroaches die, but as everyone knows, nobody cares. Before my flight to Mars, I was tortured with ecological literacy tests on Earth, and during the flight, they constantly showed educational films. Moreover, I\u2019m required to install special programs on my chip to monitor my compliance. It feels like all Earthlings are automatically considered pigs on Mars, eager to mess everything up. It's like a local kind of arrogance:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I don't know how dangerous discarded trash really is, whether it can trigger a massive epidemic, or if some fool could provoke an accident in life support systems. To me, all this is as frightening as it is unlikely. Death in an isolated sector from an unknown infection or death from decompression is a terrible thing, but as they say, if you're afraid of wolves, don't go into the woods. We had to settle on a planet with a hostile environment, just to tremble at every strange spot: \"Oh, what if this is alien mold; it could get into my body and grow Martian mushrooms out of me?\" Honestly, people who have lived a bit on Mars seem to become obsessed with this topic; I heard so many horrors during the flight that it could fill several first-class thrillers. It feels like someone is deliberately instilling a fear of accidents, fires, and, pardon the term, \"trashophobia\" into the collective consciousness. All Martians are such neat freaks, damn it. But this neatness is purely superficial; it doesn't extend to the cultural sphere of life. I'm utterly shocked by the local advertising: no wit whatsoever, just a ruthless focus on consumption and base instincts.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 However, as I mentioned, you get used to everything, including the excesses of Martian \"internal politics.\" I don't smoke, and I've been accustomed to cleanliness since childhood, so there's no reason for me to fear the eco-services. The main thing is that I'll be working in the best Russian company; for the chance to achieve something in life, I can endure a little.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And also, I haven't met a single real Martian yet. Remember how my grandmother used to scare everyone: \"They are huge, almost three meters tall, pale, thin with sparse whitish hair and dark eyes, resembling underground spiders.\" I thought that the closer I got to Mars, the scarier the Martians would be, but there weren\u2019t any on the ship or at the stations. But I guess that's understandable: they rarely come to Earth and, in any case, they don\u2019t trust their precious bodies to INKIS. Maybe it will be different in the city. However, I accidentally met an employee from the security service of 'Telecom' at the station. He said he had been on a business trip. It's strange that such types work at Telecom. You can tell he\u2019s not just an ordinary guard, and why would a regular guard go on business trips? This Ruslan clearly has Caucasian roots: both in his facial features and his way of speaking; he doesn\u2019t mix up cases and faces, but he definitely has a characteristic accent. No, you know I\u2019m fine with people of other nationalities... But this Ruslan, in short, slightly resembles some sort of bandit. Still, it doesn\u2019t matter; isn't it the case that we have plenty of all kinds of characters loitering outside our windows? I probably had a somewhat idealistic view of 'Telecom': I was hoping for a Martian corporation where everything is run by Martians \u2013 intelligent, diligent, and conscientious. I thought Mars was a world of nanotechnology and virtual reality. But as it turns out, Mars is all about tension. The eco-service is just the tip of the iceberg; the copywriters here are the real beasts. All the free services and programs are littered with ads to the brim, and try to pirate something; the eco-service will feel like your own mother. Forget about pirate programs; at least it\u2019s clear to any fool that it\u2019s not exactly good. But regarding the law about bots, you probably haven\u2019t heard. I forgot to add a signature to the bot saying that it\u2019s a bot, and that\u2019s it, dry your choice of bread and welcome to the uranium mines.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So, to summarize, I must honestly confess to you, dear Masha, that my first encounter with Mars did not live up to my best expectations, though no one promised that it would be easy. Moreover, if things go completely wrong, I will return as we agreed, but if everything is okay, then you will come in a couple of months when we finalize all the paperwork. Well, I need to wrap this up; I will write in more detail later this evening. Send my regards to everyone, and make sure you send letters too, don't use this fast communication: it's as expensive as something I can't even describe. That's it, kisses, I have to run.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max added a few picturesque landscapes of the red planet to the file: the obligatory view from the summit of the twenty-kilometer Olympus and the grand sheer walls of the Mariner Valley, and then he sent the email. He jumped out of virtual reality and started, cursing, to close the pop-up ads that came as an unpleasant bonus with any \"free\" app. He calmed down only when the translucent menu of the user interface remained in view. He carefully moved his stiff limbs and irritably adjusted his synthetic shirt and similarly made trousers. He really disliked Martian clothing, which was very durable and beautiful but lacked even a single natural fiber or speck of dust that could trigger allergies in the health-impaired locals. Grandma's sweaters, socks, and other 'ecologically dirty' clothes were sealed in airtight bags back at customs. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A new acquaintance was approaching the table of the network caf\u00e9 where Max was situated. He was dressed in a gray suit made of expensive synthetic material that looked and felt like wool, while still maintaining its special ecological properties. Ruslan was tall, solidly built and stocky, looking incredibly strong as if he hadn't lived under half the Earth's gravity. This would certainly set him apart in a crowd, especially since he didn\u2019t use cosmetic products. They didn\u2019t really work on INKIS vessels, but on Mars, a 'natural' appearance was encountered as rarely as natural clothes and food, pretty much like anything organic. As the eternal advertisement stated: 'Image is nothing, the provider is everything!' Max would have gladly adjusted Ruslan's image: to his proud eagle-like profile, high cheekbones, and dark skin, he just needed to add a turban, a curved yatagan at his waist, and white minarets in the background to create a strikingly complete image. However, he did not quite fit the image of an executive security officer who spends his workdays online, carefully observing the internal life of the corporation. Physical fitness is not needed for such work, but maintaining it under low gravity is quite difficult: medical intervention and daily training are essential. It's unlikely that Ruslan is a fan of a healthy lifestyle. Maybe he is some kind of executor of delicate tasks, or, following Russian tradition, the security service\u2019s job is to catch employees who are dissatisfied with work conditions and are leaving the company. Max understood that his assumptions were unfounded; it was much more probable that Ruslan is a minor boss who has the time and money to keep an eye on his appearance.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ruslan, with a 'bouncing' gait typically characteristic of people recently arrived from a world with normal gravity, approached the table, squeaked as he pushed the free chair aside, and sat down opposite, folding his hands on the table.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, how are things? \u2014 Max casually inquired.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Things are good, brother. \u2014 Ruslan replied.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ruslan averted his heavy gaze, drummed his fingers on the table, and asked a counter question.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You still have the old chip, right?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, on Mars, you can change the chip every year, but in Moscow, it's quite expensive and somewhat risky, considering the quality of healthcare.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s understandable, but don\u2019t say that around the local guys who pretend to be Martians. It\u2019s like admitting you\u2019re a total fool.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Max grimaced slightly, as his interlocutor completely lacked a sense of tact, which was pretty much expected.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So what\u2019s the big deal about it?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don\u2019t wave your hands and twitch your fingers; it\u2019s obvious that your chip is controlled by movements, not by thought commands. Get some makeup to hide that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is there nothing better to do? What\u2019s with these cheap tricks? To control a chip purely by thought commands, you need to be born with it in your head.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Exactly, Max, you weren\u2019t born with a chip in your head, unlike the Telecom bosses.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, I wasn\u2019t born that way. As if you were? \u2014 Max\u2019s voice was tightly laced with annoyance and distrust.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He tried not to think about the fact that there must be many people at Telecom who were indeed born with a neurochip in their heads. And in terms of skills with neurochips, he surely couldn\u2019t hold a candle to them. However, the HR specialists at the Moscow branch of Telecom had highly valued his knowledge. \"Damn that new buddy,\" Max thought, \"he should just go in the known direction.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If you truly don\u2019t care about public opinion, you can do whatever you want without worrying. But those cool Martian guys control electronics with the power of thought, and that\u2019s what drives the rest crazy. It doesn\u2019t dawn on them that you need to be born with a chip in your head and learn all of this from childhood. It\u2019s like playing football; if you haven\u2019t played by the age of ten, Pel\u00e9\u2019s glory will never shine on you. So it\u2019s easier and cheaper to press virtual buttons. Would you like to play like Pel\u00e9?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In football?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not in football, of course, it\u2019s just a metaphor.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018What a cynical jerk I\u2019ve come across,\u2019 Max thought quite irritated. \u2018He\u2019s still hitting right on the most sensitive spot.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s quite a dubious statement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What statement?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The one that says if you haven't played since childhood, you won't achieve real success. Not everyone knows their talents from a young age.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, all talents are laid down in early childhood; after that, nothing can be changed. Fate is not chosen.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There are exceptions to every rule.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 They exist, one in a million. \u2014 Ruslan agreed easily and indifferently.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0These words were spoken with such cold confidence that Max felt a slight chill. It was as if the ghost of some generic Martian Pel\u00e9 had materialized nearby and began to perform its unattainable tricks with the ball, wearing a barely perceptible smile of complete superiority.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, it's time for me to meet with the local football coach.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max no longer hid the fact that he felt a slight discomfort in communicating with his new friend.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I can give you a ride; my car has arrived.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, thanks, I still need to get to the central office of Telecom.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't stress, okay? I have the same chip as you, and I don't use cosmetics. It's just that I genuinely don't care, but if you want to fit in with these pseudo-Martians, get used to the fact that people will look at you like you're a tourist from Moscow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, you've already gotten used to it?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm telling you, I have a different circle of friends. You'll have to live with this; believe me, without any pretentiousness in the race to the local trough, it's nowhere. A regular guy from Moscow has zero chances.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I really doubt that Martians care about cheap pretentiousness.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't pay too much attention to real Martians. They obviously don\u2019t care. You and I are like pets to them. I'm talking about the others who hang around. Nobody will say anything, but you'll feel the attitude right away. I didn\u2019t want this to be an unpleasant surprise.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'll figure out the local customs myself one way or another.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, I regret bringing up this conversation. Let's go; I'll give you a ride.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max knew well that traveling by trains took quite a while, and there were almost no traffic jams on Mars due to high personal vehicle tariffs and a well-planned transportation system. Therefore, weighing all the pros and cons, he decided that he could tolerate Ruslan's company for another hour. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'll drop you off at the central office; let's go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max entrusted his main luggage to the cargo service, so now he was traveling light. He checked the bag with the oxygen mask and Geiger counter once again, and checked how snugly the flexible tablet strap was fitted on his arm, enhancing the performance of his outdated neurochip. Over time, of course, he would need to implant himself with more modern devices, but for now, he had to make do with what he had. Max stood up from the table and resolutely followed Ruslan. No one in the caf\u00e9 paid them any attention. It was clear that only the bodies of the visitors were present, while their minds roamed in the labyrinths of the virtual world.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The path to the parking lot lay through an enormous arrival hall, which starkly contrasted with the dreary reality of Russia. It felt as if he had suddenly been transported to a Brazilian carnival. Crowds of bots offering taxi services, hotels, and entertainment portals pounced on any new user, like a pack of starving dogs. Colorful dirigibles floated under the high ceiling, exotic dragons and griffins shimmered in every color of the rainbow, and fountains and lush tropical plants erupted from the ground. Max irritably tried to shake off the glitchy textures of a flyer, beside which a bright red diamond icon appeared, indicating the need to update the codecs. Immediately, a dark elf in a breastplate latched onto him, insistently inviting him to try out yet another multiplayer RPG for real men.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The neurochip reacted to all this chaos with a sharp drop in performance. The image started to stutter, and some objects became blurred and turned into a set of ugly multicolored squares. Interestingly, by a strange coincidence, the models of the advertising bots showed no signs of pixelation, unlike real objects. Tripping on the escalator, Max spat out in frustration and began to wildly wave his hands, trying to clear the visual channel.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cProblems?\u201d Ruslan, standing lower on the escalator, politely asked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, damn! I can\u2019t figure out how to get rid of the ads.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHave you already installed the free apps from Mariner Play?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWithout them, I won\u2019t get out of the spaceport.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ruslan unexpectedly showed concern, supporting Max by the elbow as he stepped off the escalator.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You should have read the license agreement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Two hundred pages?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Somewhere around the one hundred twentieth page, it says that a weak chip is your personal problem. The ad has been paid for; no one will let it be cut. Turn the visual settings down to minimum.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What kind of nonsense is this?! Either look at the screenshots, or you'll see nothing but pixels beyond ten meters.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Get used to it. I warned you: compared to smoothie lovers and segway enthusiasts from Neurotech, I\u2019m just a model of politeness. You'll appreciate my honesty, brother.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course... bro.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Getting a service connection from Telecom will make things easier.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When Max found himself in the underground garage, he was initially a bit disoriented. The poorly lit, seemingly half-abandoned space stretched in all directions from the elevator as far as the eye could see. The parking lot resembled a true forest of columns from floor to ceiling, spaced at equal intervals, with lighting so dim that strips of light alternated with bands of half-darkness. Ruslan stopped in front of a heavy tinted SUV and turned around. His face was completely submerged in shadows, and from the faceless dark silhouette, there was an unmistakable breath of something unearthly. He seemed like a ferryman waiting for someone destined to him, to take to the underworld. The low gravity added its two cents to the mystical mood. Max couldn\u2019t discern the solid boundary of the floor in the half-darkness and after each step, he lingered in the air for a couple of moments, making it feel like he was about to float in the gray mist, like a lost soul. 'I don\u2019t even have coins to pay for services; I risk getting stuck forever between worlds.' Max turned the visual settings back and the otherworldly scene disappeared, transforming into an ordinary underground parking lot.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ruslan smoothly set the heavy vehicle in motion.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, what exactly do you do at work, if it's not a secret? \u2014 Max decided to use his new acquaintance to gather a bit of insider information.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, mostly I review personal correspondence, all sorts of love letters and such nonsense. It's deadly boring, you know.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I understand, I understand, quite a job, \u2014 Max smiled politely and, looking at his serious companion's face, added with some surprise. \u2014 So, it's not a joke?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What jokes, my friend, \u2014 Ruslan grinned. \u2014 Of course, I have completely different responsibilities, but your concern about personal life will pass quickly. All Telecom employees can have any letters and conversations checked, regardless of whether they are work-related or not.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ruslan smirked and, after a moment, continued:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 For important employees, there is even a special server in the depths of Telecom, where everything you see and hear is recorded from a chip.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Those important employees are out of luck.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, if you saw the guys digging through our dirty laundry... They are like inhabitants of a can, they don't care what they are watching.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I think all this is illegal, prohibited, including by the regulations of the Advisory Council.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Get used to it, there\u2019s no law on Mars except the one established by the company for the employee. If you have any problems, look for another job.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, to get into a corporation where you get whipped for the slightest offenses.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Life is a cruel thing. Every enthusiast of private life ends up working as a waiter or other service loser, no one cares about their chatter or thoughts.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, there is no absolute freedom, you always have to sacrifice something, \u2014 Max noted philosophically.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There are no rights or freedoms at all, there is only a balance of power and interests of different players. If you are not a player yourself, you'll have to maintain that balance.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00abWell, well, and soon we will meet the local Al Capone who runs Telecom's security? This new acquaintance is certainly quite a character, one must be careful in dealing with him, but such a connection could be quite useful,\u00bb \u2014 Max thought.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max always dreamed of living on Mars. Every day, looking out of the windows at the dilapidated, dull Moscow, he thought about the red planet. The slender spires of skyscrapers, the beauty of the underground world, and boundless freedom of mind haunted him in his restless dreams. Max's Martian dream was somewhat different from the average person's: he didn't just dream of virtual and material wealth. His understandable aspirations for wealth and independence were closely intertwined with almost unattainable, nearly communist dreams of bringing justice and happiness to the world for everyone. He never spoke about this to anyone, but sometimes he seriously believed that he could achieve such power and wealth on Mars that he would transform a pack of ruthless multinational corporations into the kind of Mars he had seen in his childhood dreams. And for an object of improvement, he was satisfied with neither Moscow nor even Europe or America, but just Mars. Sometimes he acted quite irrationally, sacrificing his dreams for much more profitable offers from non-Martian companies. Max was determined to reach the red planet and refused to listen to reason, being somehow convinced that the walls he had been banging his head against in Moscow would magically crumble before him on Mars. No, he had, of course, planned everything in advance: to get a job in Telecom, rent a place for the first time, then maybe take an apartment on credit, bring Masha over, and then, having resolved his initial tasks, calmly pave his way to the shining peak. But this was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of family; it was all for the fulfillment of a foolish dream.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In his childhood, Max visited the Martian capital, and the fairy-tale city enchanted him. He wandered around with his mouth agape and his eyes wide open. Like a monstrous soul catcher, the fairy-tale city of Thule ensnared him in a shimmering web, and since then, an invisible, tightly stretched string has always connected Max to it. Often, it resembled a slight madness. When Max was twelve, he collected models of rovers, ships, and rare stones from the depths of the red planet. On his shelf stood a large, nearly one-meter model of the \"Viking\" that he had spent six months gluing together. Gradually, he outgrew his toys, but he was still drawn to Mars with the same strength, as if someone was persistently whispering in his ear: \"Leave, run, there you will find happiness and freedom.\" This mystical connection was at the forefront of his life, while everything else\u2014friends, Masha, and family\u2014flew by unnoticed against the backdrop of his global goal, although Max learned to hide his indifference to the worldly well. After all, it was not the most destructive passion to overtake people, and Max learned to use it for good. At least, Masha was convinced that all these titanic efforts were being made for their future family happiness. And Max's entire life path turned into a compromise between unattainable dreams and what life circumstances dictated to him. Max was constantly tearing himself apart in a grueling pursuit of who knows what, tortured by the following thoughts: \"Damn it, I'm almost thirty, and I'm still not on Mars. If I end up there by forty with Masha and two kids, it will be a complete and final defeat. And at this rate, I\u2019ll never make it. I need to do everything faster while I\u2019m still young and strong.\" And he did everything even faster to the detriment of quality and everything else.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max glanced out the window: a heavy vehicle was racing through the tangled network of underground tunnels, to the ancient walls seemingly untouched by human hands. There were almost no cars on the narrow, two-lane highway. Occasionally, only trucks bearing the INCIS logo appeared: a stylized head of an astronaut with his helmet visor raised, against the backdrop of a planetary disk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Where exactly are we going?\" Max thought with mild concern, continuing to stare out the window. \"It doesn't look like a busy highway to Tula.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"This is the INKIS service road, we'll get there in about thirty minutes,\" Ruslan answered the unspoken question. \"On the regular road, we would crawl for an hour and a half.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Are we the only smart ones who drive on service roads?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Of course, it's closed to regular drivers; it's just that INKIS and Telecom are connected by an old, close friendship.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Friendship, huh?\" Max thought skeptically. \"I wonder what this guy is really up to.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Looking at the winding road ahead of him, he wondered how Ruslan navigated so calmly through the maze of tunnels and caves they were racing through at breakneck speed. The path constantly twisted, sometimes soaring upward and other times plunging downward, intersecting with other, even narrower roads. It was poorly lit; the headlights ahead only revealed colossal stalactites and stalagmites that were sometimes dangerously close to the asphalt. A side road with a gravel surface whizzed by with a whistling sound. Just then, a clanking mining bulldozer turned out from it, crunching small stones beneath its wheels. Without slowing down, Ruslan passed it almost shoulder to shoulder, ignoring the gravel flying from under the bulldozer's enormous wheels, and then immediately dove down and to the right into an unlit closed curve. Max gripped the door handle tightly and thought that either Ruslan was some unknown distant descendant of Schumacher and knew the road by heart, or there was some kind of trickery at play. He quickly found the interface of the navigation computer and was once again amazed by how conveniently the control of objects on the Martian internet was implemented: there was no need to search or install new drivers, just tap the device icon and it was ready to use. The windshield reflected a map of the area around the spaceport, and green turn indicators with all the necessary explanations appeared above the road: turn radius, recommended speed, and other data. Furthermore, the intelligent computer reconstructed the image of closed or poorly lit sections of the road. As Max understood from the movement of oncoming trucks, the imaging was transmitted in real-time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't you have autopilot working?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course it works, \u2014 Ruslan shrugged. \u2014 These roads are one of the few places where it\u2019s allowed to drive yourself. Do you know what a problem it is to buy a car with a steering wheel and pedals around here? I just don't get why you would spend a couple of hundred cryptos on a vehicle to be a passenger. It's worse than non-alcoholic beer and virtual women. Damn tech geeks, shoving their chips wherever they see fit.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, that's a problem... There's a bearded Moscow joke about unmanned control, not particularly funny though.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So go on, tell me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So, a husband and wife are lying in bed after fulfilling their marital duties. The husband asks, \"Darling, did you enjoy it?\" \"No, dear, you used to do much better. Did you get another woman?\" \"No, darling, it\u2019s just that during that time I was always battling orcs, and my chip handled it for me.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"That's no longer a joke,\" Ruslan smirked. \"I don't doubt that about some office rats. Why would they need real women... By the way, there's even a service like that that appeared relatively recently. It's called 'body control'. The chip drives you to work and back, for example, while you can keep battling your orcs as much as you want.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Is it like zombies? Must be creepy to encounter them on the streets?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Yeah, you won't notice anything. Some dude is just walking, staring at one point, everybody's like that now. A good chip even answers questions like, \u2018Hey dude, got a smoke?\u2019.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"How far progress has come. Are boxing skills also built into these chips?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Sure, in somebody's pink dreams. Just think, where would the strength and reaction come from? It's either some expensive implants or you sweat it out in the gym. Only in Warhammer: pay a few pennies for an account and become, like, a space marine.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"That sounds like a lousy service. Who knows what your chip might do for you, who\u2019s responsible for the consequences later?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"As usual, read the agreement: a broken face\u2014your personal problem.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Are there bad areas on Mars?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Plenty of them,\" Ruslan shrugged, \"you know, working in uranium mines doesn\u2019t contribute to, uh...\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Developing a rich inner world,\" Max suggested.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Exactly. So, there are plenty of areas patrolled by local gangs, but just don\u2019t go there and you'll avoid a lot of trouble.\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Which areas are those?\" Max decided to clarify just in case. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"For example, the area of the first settlement. It's like a gamma zone, but in reality, there\u2019s high radiation and low oxygen. The locals love replacing lost body parts with all sorts of cutting and stabbing stuff.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I wonder why corporations can't deal with those thugs?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How can we figure this out?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What do you mean how?! In the underground world where everyone has a neurochip in their head, what problems are there in catching all the lawbreakers?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, you're a law-abiding Telecom employee, you've already installed all the police apps on the chip. But there are those wandering around with counterfeit chips, and contractors like \"Uranium One\" or the Ministry of Atomic Energy simply don't care who got hired there. And in general, why should Telecom or Neurotech bother? The kids from the first settlement will never take a shot at them. And again, it\u2019s not really appropriate for a botanist on a Segway to press some free software enthusiast. You need the right specialists for that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, weren't you from such a neighborhood? \u2014 Max ventured a cautious guess.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, I was born on Earth. But your line of thinking is almost correct and quite dangerous.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh come on, why should I care? And won\u2019t the botanists on Segways be offended that you're saying such nasty things about them?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 They check my actions, and you can talk as much as you want, it doesn't change anything. Did you think there's no crime on Mars?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I was sure of it. How can you commit a crime if your chip immediately reports where it should?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, and the electronic court automatically issues fines and can also start a case, check all conditions, and send you behind bars. And if you try to act up too much, they\u2019ll implant a mini chip that won't just alert but will immediately disable your nervous system as soon as you try to break the law. Just wanted to cross the street in a prohibited area, and your legs will just give out\u2026 halfway through.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, right, that's exactly what I\u2019m saying.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just between us: all this is to press people like you, honest guys. A thug with a fake chip doesn't care. Yes, corporations could crush crime if they wanted to. But they don\u2019t give a damn.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why not?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I gave you one reason. You can also ponder this at your leisure. Imagine that communism has arrived, all the slackers have been implanted with microchips and are working for the good of society. Everywhere is cleanliness and beauty, there are no gamma or delta zones, if you get sick \u2014 you can treat yourself, if you lose your job \u2014 live on benefits. Who will then work their entire life until they drop dead? Everyone will be relaxing and not giving a damn about the eggheads with their Segways. But when there's a prospect of becoming homeless in a delta zone, where there\u2019s nothing to breathe, or going on an exciting tour of the concentration camps of the Eastern Bloc, that\u2019s when you\u2019ll really hustle. What\u2019s wrong with some people in Moscow? Why are they so eager to break their backs for the Telecom bosses who don\u2019t consider them worth much?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019re clearly exaggerating, \u2014 Max waved his hand indignantly. \u2014 You\u2019re conjuring up all sorts of conspiracy theories; it's obvious that any facts can be twisted to fit them.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, I\u2019m imagining conspiracy theories. And you, apparently, think you\u2019ve landed in the land of elves. You\u2019ll see for yourself; let\u2019s see who\u2019s right in a year.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In a year, I\u2019ll myself be a boss at Telecom, and then we\u2019ll see.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sure, I\u2019m all for it, \u2014 Ruslan laughed. \u2014 Just don\u2019t forget who picked you up from the spaceport if anything happens. But these are just dreams...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, dreams or not, if you sit comfortably for your whole life, nothing will come of it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you seriously thinking about joining the crowd of real Martians?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s so special about it? What makes me any worse than them?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It\u2019s not about worse or better. It\u2019s an elite club for insiders. No outsiders are allowed, no matter what their achievements.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It\u2019s clear that the management of any transnational corporation is, to some extent, a closed club. You should see the family clans that have occupied any halfway decent positions in Moscow. No elitism, just primitive wild Asia: they care about nothing but the animalistic desire to grab as much as possible, as quickly as possible. In any case, the first step on Mars is still better than cranking out primitive websites in Moscow. Maybe I can at least make some money.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You'll earn more money in Moscow on primitive websites. But you clearly didn't come here to become a minor executive and save up for a small flat by the age of forty. Just don\u2019t stress too much again, but do you really think you're the first one with shining eyes to hop over here? There are tons of dreamers like that, and Martians have learned perfectly how to squeeze everything out of them.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I already know that I\u2019ll have to work hard and not everyone makes it to success; some face setbacks, but what can you do? Do you really think I don\u2019t understand anything?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You're a smart guy; I didn't mean anything by it, but you don't know the system. I've seen how it works.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And how does it work?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It\u2019s very simple: first, you\u2019ll be offered a job as a basic admin or coder, then they might raise your salary a bit, and then maybe they\u2019ll promote you to oversee new arrivals. But they won\u2019t really let you do anything cool, or if they do, they'll take all the rights for themselves. And all the time, it'll feel like you\u2019re almost in the circle, just a little more effort, but it's an illusion, a deception, a glass ceiling, in short.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm aware that most people hit a glass ceiling. The struggle is actually getting among the few lucky ones who break through.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There are no lucky ones; understand that. The policy is one \u2014 don\u2019t take outsiders.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don't see the logic in such a policy. If you don\u2019t let anyone in at all, then, as you say, no one will care. Why bother if the outcome is known? If you don't roll out videos with happy millionaires, no one will buy lottery tickets, right?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Here, they'll create any videos for you. No one will catch Neurotek red-handed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you saying the Martians are just deceiving everyone?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not exactly, they don't just deceive you; they actually deceive you very cleverly. Alright, let me try to explain... So, you get a job in Telecom, and the HR department creates a personal file for you. There\u2019s a little file where they\u2019ll record all the data they manage to gather, down to school evaluations, and all of your requests and visits tracked by the chip. Based on this data and your current activity, the program will monitor when to say something to you, when to give you a promotion, when to give you a raise, to keep you from running off into the sunset. In short, they will constantly keep a carrot dangling in front of your nose.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019re painting everything with a broad brush. Sure, they use neural networks to analyze personal data. Yes, it\u2019s not very pleasant, but I don\u2019t see any tragedy in that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The tragedy is that unless you\u2019re a Martian, you will only share your problems with that neural network. It\u2019s completely, like... a formal procedure; live managers won\u2019t say a word to you in half a century. To them, you\u2019re just a blank space.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 As if I\u2019m not just a blank space in Moscow for some INKIS. It\u2019s clear that first you\u2019ll have to get their attention so that the Martians start spending time discussing my career prospects.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You really don\u2019t understand. In Moscow or at least in some part of Europe, you can participate in a race with a crowd of others like you. And even if nine out of ten prize places are already taken by someone\u2019s buddies or mistresses, you can still genuinely compete for the tenth. But on Mars, there\u2019s absolutely nothing to gain, no matter how many times you\u2019re a genius. The Martians have long figured out all the humans and assigned each one a personal digital stall\u2026 Oh well, forget it, really. Everyone makes their own choices.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019d even say: everyone sees what they want to see.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe security service at Telecom is quite strange,\u201d Max thought tiredly. \u201cWhat did he want to achieve, for me to fly back to Moscow and live there happily ever after? Well, yes, it\u2019s more reasonable to believe that the roads at home will be repaired and bribes will stop than to believe in the good intentions of someone like that. More likely, he\u2019s just amusing himself. Or he\u2019s really connected to some mafia and only sees the dark side of the city of Tule.\u201d But still, doubts began to gnaw at Max\u2019s soul with renewed vigor: \u201cIndeed, why is Telecom looking for specialists in Moscow, which is a backwater compared to Tule? But on the other hand, it can\u2019t just be a bad joke to drag me this far while covering travel expenses? In any case, I still have money for a return ticket. But why did I even start these conversations? Is there no one else to share with? There seems to be some rational kernel in his chatter. How can one understand in the world of virtual reality: am I building a career with neural networks or am I conversing with real Martians? By the size of the earnings? But money, indeed, can be made in Moscow too, especially if you\u2019re an unscrupulous bastard with connections. And here, any result is virtual to some extent. A sufficiently powerful neural network can easily decipher all my dreams and provide an illusion of their fulfillment in a cozy little world. Maybe deep down, I clearly understand the futility of my hopes and secretly have never intended to turn them into reality. And here lies a wonderful opportunity to see what an ideal world looks like. Just a glimpse is allowed, after all, it\u2019s not forbidden by anyone, it\u2019s not a vice, it\u2019s just a harmless tactical retreat. And there, in the near future, I will definitely start doing everything for real: with a single effort of will, I will cut the network cable and begin. But for now, I can still dream a little longer, just a bit more... Hmm, that\u2019s how it will all be: just a little longer, stretching out for a couple of decades until it is too late, until I finally turn into a spineless amoeba floating in a nutrient solution.\u201d \u2013 Max dreaded this vision. \u201cNo, I need to get rid of these doubts. I need to be like Ruslan, or like my friend Denis, for example. D\u00e9n clearly knows what he wants and doesn\u2019t stress over it. And as for all these chips and neural networks, he couldn\u2019t care less... But on the other hand, is this a true dream? It\u2019s just instincts and a harsh necessity of life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We're almost there, \u2014 Ruslan reported, slowing down at the artificial tunnel that sharply ascended, \u2014 we\u2019ll pass through the lock and pop out in the city. Don\u2019t forget to activate the pass.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what zone was that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Epsilon.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Epsilon?! And we\u2019re just cruising here, it\u2019s almost open space.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I know, the oxygen content isn't regulated, high radiation levels? Do you have children? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Then that\u2019s bad.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s bad? \u2014 Max worried.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just kidding, nothing will happen to you. In this vehicle, it\u2019s like being in a tank: closed atmosphere and radiation protection, plus there are light spacesuits in the trunk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, spacesuits in the trunk will undoubtedly save our lives in case of a serious accident, \u2014 Max noted, but Ruslan paid no attention to his irony.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Without any delays, they passed the old lock and entered the acceleration lane of the highway already in Tula. Ruslan relaxed back in his seat and handed control over to the computer. In any case, on the highways of Tula, where the maximum speed was limited to a fantastic two hundred miles an hour, the computer's decisions took precedence over any actions of the driver. Only the road computer was capable of safely operating the vehicle at such speeds in dense traffic. The Martian transport control system deserved the highest praise; all you had to do was choose a destination, and the system would automatically select the optimal route considering the traffic forecasts based on the intentions of other users. Without it, Tula would undoubtedly be choking on traffic jams like many earthly megacities.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max admired the operation of the smoothly coordinated road system from a bird's-eye view on the interactive city map. The shimmering streams of cars, flowing through the interchanges, resembled the circulatory system of a living organism. Heavy cargo and passenger vehicles drifted obediently in the right lanes, while fast cars whizzed by on the left. If someone changed lanes, the other participants in traffic would slow down, allowing them to pass, almost scraping bumpers against each other. No one rushed forward with risky overtakes or cut each other off; all maneuvers were executed in advance with perfect speed and precision. Multilevel interchanges were built everywhere: no traffic lights were needed. Max smirked at the thought that any Moscow traffic cop seeing such a sight would shed a tear of joy. Though, no, probably from disappointment: where a sober, error-free computer is in control, the corrupt traffic police would clearly be left out of the loop.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe speeds could be a bit lower, and the distance between cars should be more than ten to fifteen meters,\u201d Max thought, \u201cone can only hope that if any cargo platform's control fails, the system will manage to react in time, otherwise it will be a terrible mess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The city had much to admire beyond the highways. The low gravitational force and massive underground voids allowed for incredible feats in architecture. Tula, buried in caves and tunnels, was still entirely directed upwards. It consisted solely of skyscrapers, spires, towers, and aerial structures with slender supports, connected by a web of passageways and transport routes. Next to each building was a link to a web page where one could learn a lot of interesting facts about the metropolis. Here is a 200-meter glass sphere, as if floating in the air \u2013 an upscale club. Inside, elegantly dressed people and semi-clad selling girls are enjoying themselves in an augmented reality atmosphere. Meanwhile, just a few blocks away, a stark gloomy structure without glass and neon \u2013 a hospital and shelter for the poor, located in a favorable living area known as 'beta'. It turns out that civilized Martians are quite ready to share crumbs from the master's table, even though no state is holding them captive anymore.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Some buildings, like columns, pressed against the ceilings of the caves, around which a swarm of arriving and hurriedly departing drones usually buzzed. These buildings housed fire, environmental, and other municipal services. Not sparing a glance at their web page, Max discovered that these columns also serve as load-bearing structures, protecting the natural arches of the underground from collapsing. The measure is mostly preventive; Mars does not exhibit much tectonic activity: the depths of the red planet have long been dead and do not disturb people. However, there are plenty of other issues, including environmental ones: ancient bacteria spores are constantly found in the rocks, and radiation: the natural background, even deep down, due to the high concentration of radioactive isotopes, is several times higher than on Earth. Therefore, the main laboratories of powerful corporations are usually located in separate caves, closed off from the main city by several layers of protection.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0There were even some truly exotic examples of local architecture: where deep chasms gaped in the cave floor, towers hung from the ceiling like giant stalactites, plunging into the void. From the chasms came the hum of oxygen stations \u2013 the light limbs of an urban organism. And the role of the conductor of this colossal orchestra was played by electronic devices. They easily took over the care of imperfect human beings, replacing them practically everywhere. The residents of Tule strolled leisurely along the fragile high galleries, raced in misty vehicles, breathed in clean filtered air, and were not worried about the fact that mere nanoseconds and nanometers of errors, which had accidentally crept into the delicate crystals of computer devices, separated them from instantaneous or, conversely, torturous death.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of course, any backdrop could have been chosen for the cityscape. The most popular was the elven city backdrop, where spires transformed into gigantic trees, waterfalls cascaded down the walls, and an exotic sky with multiple suns arched overhead. Max preferred the backdrop of the underground sorcerers' city much more. It was much closer to the actual textures of the environment, and it naturally consumed fewer processor resources. Neon ads, turned into priestly lights, cast whimsical reflections on the black-and-red rocky walls, illuminating translucent veins of precious minerals from the darkness. Drones, transformed into elementals and spirits, danced under the cavernous arches. The beauty of these virtual creations intertwined so closely and organically with the beauty of the natural undergrounds that it made the heart skip a beat. Even though it was foreign and cold, this beauty, crafted by the evil spirits of a dead planet millions of years ago, still beckoned, and the soul joyfully slipped into a sweet, poisonous slumber. And triumphant ghosts, laughing maliciously, performed their incomprehensible dance, waiting for a new victim. Max kept watching Tula, whom he had so long and passionately wanted to see again, when suddenly an invisible and terrifying force snapped the taut string and whispered, 'Well, hello, Max, I've been waiting for you...'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did you fall asleep? \u2013 Ruslan poked his companion in the shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just\u2026 lost in thought.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The central office, we are almost there.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max had never shown much interest in what the headquarters of the main Russian company represented. He had often stumbled upon images of Neirotek's office \u2014 the famous \"crystal spire\" \u2014 online. It was not surprising: the brand, as they say, is well-known. This spire was located in a crater, topped with the largest and oldest dome in Tula, reaching a height of five hundred meters. But more than anything, it was famous for its structural designs, alternating between completely transparent and mirrored elements. Through the transparent sections, one could observe the inner workings of the corporation, much like watching chefs in certain restaurants, while the mirrors refracted light in the most whimsical ways. This seemingly symbolized the company's complete openness, the pure intentions of its employees, and the shining peaks of scientific and technological progress. In summary, everything was clear about Neirotek's tower: expensive, dazzling, and eye-catching. Of course, Telekom wouldn't be Telekom if it didn't try to measure its towers against Neirotek's. And where height and sparkle were lacking, Telekom compensated with scale and grandeur. A massive concrete structure descended into a deep abyss at its base, while the upper floors reached up to the cave's vault. This worthy example of Gothic architecture was surrounded by a ring of smaller towers that seemed to reach out to each other from the floor and ceiling of the dungeon, reminiscent of a toothy maw. By analogy, Telekom's central building symbolized the company's complete closure, especially to all the outside sales flunkies who called themselves the \"fourth estate.\" Well, the intentions were clear; the delays in scientific and technological progress were easily compensated by the \"big stick\" inherited from the late Russian Empire.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ruslan eagerly took on the role of guide. Perhaps, upon seeing this dear-to-heart architectural weapon aimed at intimidating competitors, some patriotic feelings stirred within him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did you see how well we've settled in? The narrow-eyed ones are already envious.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Is it Neirotek? Surely, they'll soon die of envy.\u201d - Max's mental skepticism barely registered on his face.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 This is the underground part of the central support of the power dome. You've probably seen them from the terminal. They never really completed the power dome, but the solid structures have come in handy. You could sit out a nuclear war here, unlike in a glass birdhouse. Am I right?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ruslan turned to his companion for confirmation, and Max had to quickly nod in agreement:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 My home is my fortress.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Exactly. There can be no better protection than inside the support. Even if the cave collapses completely, the structure will hold. Soon you'll see how good we have it here\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYes,\u201d Max shuddered, \u201cnow there's no way out.\u201d Just as he thought this, the gigantic maw swallowed the small four-wheeled shell.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0October 18, 2139. Latest news.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Today, at 11 o'clock local time, the INKIS corporation submitted its application for full membership in the Advisory Council of Martian settlements. The application was supported by voting Council members: Telecom-Ru, Uranium One, Mariner Heavy Industries, and others. Thus, the application received 153 full votes with a mandatory minimum of 100 votes. This issue has been included in the agenda of the upcoming Council session, which opens on November 1. In the event of a positive voting outcome on its application, the INKIS corporation will receive 1 full vote and the opportunity to submit resolution projects through the Council\u2019s office. Currently, the representative of the INKIS corporation in the Council has limited observer rights. INKIS also announced an additional IPO of its shares, with an estimated value of about 85 million cryptos.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The news was complemented by a video where workers in spacesuits dismantled the \"Orion\", \"Ural\", \"Bora\", and \"Viking\" from their pedestals. These ships had faithfully served for many years before guarding their last home port. Supposedly, this was only done to send the old vessels to the Museum of Mars Exploration, where proper storage conditions could be ensured. \"Right, like we would believe that,\" Max thought irritably. Judging by how hastily and barbarically the work was carried out, the new exhibits would arrive at the museum's storage in quite a battered condition, unless they were first disposed of under some other respectable pretext. The \"Viking\" took the brunt of it. Clumsy workers smashed all its thermal protection to pieces while loading the ship onto the ramp. The entire process showed piles of shards scattered across the sand and horrendous gaps captured in a series of expressive photographs. In short, INKIS was quick to heed the wishes of the Advisory Council.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max mentally wished for the corporation's bosses to earn a couple of festering boils from overly eager bootlicking of Martian backsides and moved on to the next news.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Unrest continues on Titan. After a violent crackdown on demonstrators that involved numerous arrests of violators, the situation is still far from resolution. Supporters of the so-called \"Qwadis\" organization advocate for the creation of an independent state on Titan, where radical reforms of copyright laws will be implemented, and government support will be provided for open-source software development projects. They accuse the protectorate authorities of political repression and secret killings of dissenters, as well as threatening to respond to terror with terror. So far, the supporters of the 'organization' \u2014 the kwads \u2014 have not succeeded in realizing their threats, their only achievement being petty vandalism and hacking attacks. Despite this, the police forces of the Titan protectorate have already implemented enhanced security measures in transportation, industrial enterprises, life-support stations, and medical institutions. Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of violence, essentially condemning the actions of the local protectorate and submitted relevant proposals to the Advisory Council. Soon, at an extraordinary session, the issue of withdrawing the existing protectorate of Titan will be decided. Neurotech's position has not yet found understanding among competitors, nor even from its closest allies. The Sumitomo conglomerate, which is investing significant resources into its production assets on Titan, has expressed sharp disagreement with the proposal submitted to the Advisory Council and is trying to block its discussion. Representatives of Sumitomo suggest investigating the unrest through their own security service and openly state that they are aware of the neural chip numbers of all kwads.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWow, what\u2019s happening in the Solar System?\u201d Max thought, lazily scrolling through the news site. \u201cSome crazy people decided to stir things up on that frozen moon; they must have really lost their minds\u2026 An independent state on an isolated moon completely dependent on external supplies? They\u2019ve really thought this through. They\u2019ll crush them in no time. There\u2019s nowhere to run from a submarine when you\u2019re surrounded by a lake of liquid methane.\u201d Max rationally considered the demands of the protesters absurd, yet he refused to apply the same logic to his own dreams of transforming Mars. \u201cAnd Neurotek suddenly became an advocate for democracy and human rights? They must be trying to snatch up the production assets of a recent ally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Out of curiosity, Max glanced at the logo of the mysterious \"organization\" left on hacked websites: a blue diamond, with the right half filled in, and the left half featuring a half of an all-seeing eye. He then moved on to view the next news story.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Telecom-RU has announced an increase in access speed and file storage sizes for all users of its network, due to the launch of a new supercomputer cluster using superconductors to optimize data exchange. The company promises to fully eliminate known wireless connection issues in this way. In response to customers' complaints, Telecom-RU has always cited a lack of exclusive private resources and submitted requests to the Advisory Council on Electromagnetic Spectrum. To be fair, it should be noted that the frequency resource allocated to Telecom slightly lags behind that of the other two largest providers, Neurotech and MDT. However, in terms of the ratio of allocated frequency bandwidth to the average number of users, Telecom-RU significantly outperforms its competitors, indicating poor optimization of the available resource. The new supercomputer is intended to address this longstanding issue. Additionally, Telecom-RU announced the upcoming launch of a new data center and several fast communication repeaters. The company expresses confidence that the quality of its services will now be on par with the 'big two'. Now a full-fledged 'big three' has formed in the market of network services, claims Telecom-RU. Company representative Laura May graciously agreed to answer our questions.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The tall blonde, resembling a glamorous diva from the golden age of Hollywood, smiled dazzlingly, showing her readiness to answer any questions. She had shoulder-length curly hair, a voluptuous figure, and distinctive, not quite perfect facial features. Yet she looked at the world with a slight smirk and even a challenge, while her husky voice added an animal magnetism to her presence. Her skirt was a little shorter, and her lipstick a little brighter than her status would suggest, but she cared not at all, and with every intonation and gesture, she seemed to provoke audiences to doubt her moral stability, all while never crossing the fine line of formal decency. The official victory statements from Telecom, delivered in her style, sounded quite promising.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Yeah, when they promise you an out-of-this-world connection speed with such a voice, anyone would rush to sign a contract,\" Max thought. \"But who knows what it's actually like, what language it speaks, and whether it even exists? Maybe female users see some rugged macho guy?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Laura, meanwhile, bravely defended her native syndicate against the attacks.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"...They like to label us as offering cheaper services, but of lower quality and reliability, claiming we use outdated networking technologies. Although we've long since implemented full immersion and all major service types, some problems arose only from overall network congestion and only in wireless connections. But now, with the launch of a new supercomputer, Telecom will provide quality services at a noticeably lower price than its competitors.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"How do you respond to the claims of Neurotech and MDT regarding Telecom's alleged dumping? Is it true that Telecom uses the revenues from its non-core assets to maintain low prices for network services?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"You do understand that a low price doesn't always mean dumping...\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What a great job our Telecom is doing,\" Max thought irritably, closing the website window and flopping down on the couch. \"Taking such good care of clients and employees too. Medical insurance, relaxation rooms, career management \u2014 everything except normal work. Well, they wouldn't let me near the superconducting core anyway. I'm ready to learn, and I would definitely handle the development of peripheral devices. My place is in development, not in operations. I used to be a systems architect at the Moscow branch, and now what am I here? In the near future, a tenth-category optimization programmer in the channel splitting optimization sector, which is part of the network operations service \u2014 a great start to a brilliant career. The only comforting thing is that there are a total of fifteen categories for struggling programmers. The main thing is the dizzying career growth that awaits ahead \u2014 a full nine categories! Though, yes, that consolation is pretty weak. Damn, how long can one dwell on the same thing?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max cursed under his breath and headed to the kitchen in just his boxers. It was foolish, of course, to replay the same situation over and over in his mind, especially when there was nothing to change anymore. Yet, he couldn't stop \u2014 yesterday's conversation with his department head, where he was supposed to work, had really shaken him. So he engaged in an endless debate with himself, shuffling and concocting new, irresistible arguments, repeatedly forcing his imaginary opponent to capitulate. Unfortunately, imaginary victories had no impact on the real situation. He found no answers to the two main questions: 'who is to blame?' and 'what to do?'. More precisely, he had come up with an answer to the first question: it was all his new friend Ruslan's fault, the jerk, he should have his mouth sewn shut. As for the steps to rectify the situation, those seemed extremely vague.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max understood, of course, that the new position was an unpleasant surprise only for him. It was unlikely everything had been decided just yesterday. He did feel a sense of guilt in what had happened. After all, he hadn't clearly agreed on where he was being taken on Mars while still in Moscow. The phrase that the position would best match his competencies was a piece of personnel department nonsense that, strictly speaking, had no real limits. So it turned out that he had nothing to complain about. Only that he wanted so badly to get to Mars that he was willing to accept any conditions.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And yesterday, as they say, nothing foreshadowed such a terrible outcome. Ruslan dropped off his hitchhiker at the parking lot near the central office, promised to organize a tour of the city's lively spots in Tula if he got bored sitting in virtual reality, and then drove off somewhere, disappearing into the depths of the huge building. Max felt a bit down, downloaded a guide, and set off to meet his fate, following the friendly rabbit in a waistcoat. This was, like, a telecom company's signature experience, a replacement for the standard pointers that lit up in front of you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max wasn't in a hurry at all. He first stopped by the HR department, took a DNA test, went through other checks, and received the coveted company account \u2014 one of the main perks used to entice employees at the provider company. Any ordinary admin, but with official access, is automatically, a hundred times cooler than a VIP user who has paid exorbitant amounts for their plan. The world has changed significantly since the advent and proliferation of the internet. Now, it's hard to say which is better: happiness and luck in the real world or in the virtual one, as they have intertwined so closely that separating them is almost impossible, just like determining which is more real. Yes, most people were not even curious about what this unknown real world was like, as described in tales from the pre-computer era, already having a hard time imagining life without pop-up hints and universal translators \u2014 a life where you had to learn foreign languages and ask passersby for directions to the library. Many didn\u2019t even want to learn to type. Why bother, when any text can be dictated, and with the latest advancements in neurotechnology, even read directly through thought commands.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Max faced a delay with his corporate account; the old operating system on his chip needed to be reinstalled, but the issue was resolved relatively quickly. The manager frowned while looking at his medical record, which featured an outdated chip model by Martian standards, yet still issued a referral for the system reinstallation at the corporate medical center. After that, there was the social service, where Max was politely informed that, of course, the Telecom provides housing for any employee, but his extraterrestrial origin, or any other circumstances, do not affect the provision of housing: that's company policy. Overall, Max declined the free tiny room in the 'Gamma' industrial zone and decided to settle in a rental apartment in a more respectable area. Thus, he nobly visited several more departments, some in person and others as a virtual ghost, filling out various forms and receiving instructions along the way. Thanks to completing such easy quests successfully, Max had started to relax and approached the final destination of his journey\u2014the manager's office\u2014with a cheerful and confident demeanor. The office was equipped with serious biosecurity measures: instead of a polite greeting, a cold shower of disinfectants awaited him at the entrance.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The owner of the office, Albert Bonford, was a true Martian in every sense of the word. His foot had evidently never set foot on sinful Earth: the ordinary force of gravity would undoubtedly have broken this fragile being like a reed. Tall and pale with bleached hair, he wore a gray checkered suit with a light tie. The Martian's eyes were large, dark, with almost indistinguishable irises, either by nature or due to contact lenses. He lounged in a deep chair with motorized wheels and numerous connectors, folding tables, and even a long manipulator arm protruding from the backrest. The promised Segways had apparently gone out of fashion. The Martian\u2019s evident penchant for possessing the latest achievements in cybernetics had led to a whole flock of flying robots forming around him. They were in constant motion, blinking their LED lights meaningfully. They also brewed tea and coffee for visitors, dusted off the owner, and simply brought life to the atmosphere in the room.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cGreetings, Maxim,\u201d typed the Martian in the expanded messenger, without turning his head to the newcomer or changing his facial expression. \u201cI'll be free in just a couple of minutes. Come in, take a seat.\u201d A chair similar to Max's approached, but without any unnecessary bells and whistles. \u201cAlright,\u201d Max typed in response and for some reason repeated his meaningless remark out loud, likely out of nervousness. He really was quite anxious in those first moments upon seeing a real Martian. No, Max was not a xenophobe and believed he was completely indifferent to the appearance of other people. But as it turned out, that only applied to humans, whether they were stinking punks or goths; conversing with anthropomorphic beings, not quite like yourself, was an entirely different matter. \u201cSo, this is what a real neuro-human looks like,\u201d Max thought, struggling to swallow the dry lump in his throat. \u201cI\u2019ll sign up for the gym tomorrow and push myself to the point of losing my pulse,\u201d he promised himself in horror, watching the bird-like movements of the Martian's head, perched on its long, thin neck. At that moment, Max physically felt calcium being drawn from his bones, making them brittle like dry twigs. And he was already quite reluctant to work under such a creature. The new boss immediately unsettled him, starting from the very first printed letter.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Besides a bunch of sneaky robots and Albert, there was also a gray, mirror-polished table in the room, chairs, and two aquariums built into opposite walls. In one aquarium, large, brightly colored fish were calmly opening their mouths and waving their fins while looking in confusion at the opposite wall, where, behind thick double glass, colonies of web-like polyps from Titan trembled in a bath of liquid methane. After a couple of minutes, Albert woke up, and his eyes regained their irises, further terrifying Max.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSo, Maxim, welcome as the new employee of sector 038-113,\u201d the Martian's lifeless politeness did not endear him at all. \u201cI was also informed that there is a small issue with your neurochip.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, no problem, Albert, \u2014 Max quickly replied. \u2014 I will reinstall the operating system within the next week.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The issue isn't with the OS, but with the chip itself. Each position in my sector has specific formal requirements, including chip specifications. Unfortunately, you can only apply for the position of a tenth-category optimization programmer.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Apply? \u2014 Max asked, somewhat confused.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You will be officially hired after you pass the probation period and take the qualification exam.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But I was aiming for a developer position\u2026 More like a systems architect\u2026 That\u2019s what we agreed on in Moscow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A systems architect? \u2014 The Martian barely suppressed a smirk. \u2014 Haven't you studied the job description? My sector doesn\u2019t engage in design work per se. Your role will involve databases and training neural networks.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max began to frantically leaf through the documents he received.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Channel separation optimization sector?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max squirmed in his chair, starting to get really nervous. \u2018And, am I such a fool that I didn\u2019t realize what lies behind the faceless sector number they assigned me to?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There must be some mistake here\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The HR department doesn\u2019t make mistakes in such matters.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But in Moscow\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The final decision is always made by the central office. Don\u2019t worry, this job is quite suitable for your qualifications. You will also have a three-month probation period for retraining, followed by an exam. I think, considering your excellent references, you can manage it even sooner. The chip issue is also quite solvable.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The chip issue worries me the least now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That's great, \u2014 apparently, irony, like other silly emotions, was alien to the Martian. \u2014 You start work the day after tomorrow; all instructions will be sent to your work email. If you have questions, you can contact HR. Now excuse me, I have many things to do.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The Martian disconnected again, leaving Max in complete confusion. He sat for a bit in front of the immobile figure of his supervisor, tried to say something like: 'Excuse me, but\u2026', but received no reaction. And, gritting his teeth, he walked out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yes, all Martians are liars. And what could be done in such a situation? Max once again pondered, sitting on the tiny kitchen and sipping synthetic-tasting tea. In that specific case, of course, nothing; I should have just not relaxed from the start. I should have discussed all the terms more concretely back in Moscow, instead of nodding like a happy Chinese doll at the idea of being sent to Mars. But then again, I would have been sent back anyway. So I went to the HR department, and what happened? The manager politely turned me down, saying they weren\u2019t authorized to deal with such matters, but I could always leave a request for higher management, and they would definitely contact me. Sure, they'll call me soon, saying that a most unfortunate misunderstanding occurred and appoint me as the systems architect for some new supercomputer. In general, the obvious logic suggests that in such a situation, I can only slam the door and leave Telecom. And this means that most likely, I\u2019ll have to forever forget about Mars. Considering the local draconian regulations, it\u2019s unlikely I will find another job here.\u201d But the very thought of giving up the opportunity to live on Mars brought such terrible disappointment to Max that he swept it away like dirt. \u201cSo, there\u2019s no choice; I\u2019ll have to come to terms with what I have. After all, someone less finicky would gladly grab any position in Telecom. It's not all that bad; we'll get through this.\u201d Max sighed once more gloomily and went to sort through the things that completely consumed the already tiny space of his apartment.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He was interrupted from his household chores by a message from Masha. \u201cHi there! It's really a shame you left. Well, I\u2019m very glad that you managed to find a job in Tula, but it\u2019s a shame you went without me. Please tell me how things are at work; I hope everything is okay? How\u2019s the management? Do the real Martians look like your grandmother described: pale, thin, with sparse hair and resembling huge underground spiders? Just kidding; your grandmother is known for exaggerating. But please make sure to eat calcium and hit the gym, or I\u2019m afraid that when I come to visit in six months, I\u2019ll find something out of your grandmother\u2019s stories.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You promised to find out about the temporary visa for me with Telecom right away. I would come even for a couple of weeks; I know the tickets are expensive, but what can we do? I also want to see this wonderful city, Tula. I've already gathered the documents, no problem, just waiting for the invitation. Perhaps it would be better to come on some tourist package, even though they are very costly? Or maybe you don\u2019t want me to come anymore. Have you found some Martian girl? You were really drawn to that planet for a reason. Just kidding, of course.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, that creep with his aquariums and chairs upset me so much that I even forgot about Masha's invitation,\u201d Max thought gloomily.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAt home, everything is good, I saw your mom. This weekend I'm going to the dacha to help my parents. Also, while I was cleaning, I accidentally bumped into one of your ships, the biggest one, I don\u2019t remember its name, but I didn\u2019t break anything; I checked. Besides, it\u2019s about time to take these toys somewhere to the garage; they\u2019re just taking up space.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMy 'Viking', just not that! She didn't break anything,\u201d Max thought skeptically. \u201cI can't believe it; you won\u2019t even notice if you break something in the model. I asked you not to touch it; is it really that hard?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019d like to know how you plan to entertain yourself in your free time from work? Mars must have so many cool places; please send me more notes, as your desert landscapes are not very impressive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m waiting and hoping when you'll take me to Mars. Honestly, messages are nice and all, but quick communication is still better. Maybe we should splurge a bit? You\u2019re making a ton of money at Telecom now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Or maybe we should just escape to Paris, huh? To dream about the city of Tula is something only someone like you could do. I would just want something simpler, like Montmartre, the Eiffel Tower, and warm, quiet evenings in a little restaurant. Honestly, Max, I don\u2019t really understand how we\u2019ll live on this Mars. There probably aren\u2019t even any parks to stroll in hand in hand. And you can't admire the stars or the full moon; there\u2019s no romance. In short... I shouldn't have started this again; everything is already decided.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I don't know what else to talk about; nothing special is happening at home, just boredom and routine. Oh right, if you didn't appreciate my efforts with the letter, maybe you'll appreciate my new underwear in the second file. Well, that's it, bye-bye. Please think about quick communication.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"She bought underwear, and I hope it's solely for me,\" Max wondered. \"And really, what the hell, I ran off, leaving everything behind. Our relationship won't last long at this rate. There are parks, stars, and a moonlit path on the glassy surface of the water, but they\u2019re all a bit virtual.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yes, unfamiliar things rarely turn out to be what we imagine. Max knew that the world isn\u2019t fair, and wealthy, powerful corporations run rampant, but he genuinely didn\u2019t expect to become a victim of such tyranny.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max knew that the Martian eco-service was no joke, but he could never have imagined such ecological totalitarianism. Most of the clothes he brought could only be modeled in front of a mirror at home; they didn't meet local dust standards, and his home\u2019s airlock wouldn't let him out in them. Furthermore, the detectors installed at the airlock wouldn\u2019t allow entry with banned substances, weapons, or animals and would automatically report such violations to the police. Moreover, the \u201cbig brother\u201d would also notify the insurance service if a person came home under the influence of drugs or alcohol or was ill. Of course, there were no penalties for this, but all these cases were neatly recorded in the personal history, and the cost of insurance gradually increased. The Martian \u201csmart home\u201d turned out to be worse than the most nagging wife. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max knew that life in Tula was expensive. Cheap food, grown in a lab, tasted like the nutritious compost it was produced in, while real food was exorbitantly priced. Housing, utilities, transport, and even breathable oxygen were all very costly. However, Max believed that the increased expenses would be more than compensated by his salary at Telecom. It turned out, though, that his salary was less than promised and life was more expensive. Most of his money immediately went to insurance, bills, and paying for a tiny twenty-square-meter apartment, leaving no possibility of buying a car or saving seriously. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max knew that virtual reality was akin to a new religion, but he had no idea how deeply the thoughts and aspirations of Martian inhabitants revolved around this virtual axis. In Max's tiny apartment, a significant portion of space was occupied by this altar of a new all-consuming cult \u2013 a bio-bath for complete immersion. The bio-bath on Mars is the center of the universe, the focus of the meaning of life, a gateway to other worlds where orcs defeat elves, empires crumble and are reborn, where love and hate coexist, and where everything is endured and lost. There, life is real, while the outer world is a pale surrogate. Oh, source of otherworldly delights, the touch of your cool metal side feels like a sip in the desert; countless sellers, builders, miners, guards, women, and children, exhausted in schools and workplaces, are waiting. They raise their gaze, filled with longing, to where the sky should be and pray to Martian deities for their shift to end soon. For some, the bio-bath is an expensive, complex setup with temperature regulation, hydro-massage, IV drips, and medical equipment that allows one to spend weeks and months inside. Some do indeed spend their entire conscious lives floating in saline solution, as most intellectual professions have long allowed for remote work. Yes, one could get married and even have children without really stepping outside. Two spouses, drenched in tubs across from each other \u2013 the perfect Martian family. For some, who were less accustomed to virtual values, the bio-bath is merely a tub filled with warm liquid, complete with an oxygen mask and a few basic sensors. But everyone had one; without it, there is no life on Mars. Max, due to his morally outdated neurochip, largely had his equipment gathering dust. Consequently, he often found himself with a lot of free time that he could invest in something useful, but usually, he did not.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nearly two months have passed since Max arrived in Tula. He reinstalled the operating system on the chip, obtained a full-service account, and received an orange access pass to Telecom's internal networks. Gradually, his life fell into a routine of gray, monotonous days. Alarm clock. Kitchen. Street. Work. Although a quarter of a century has not yet passed, there was a persistent feeling that the cycle was repeating and would continue to repeat forever. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He made an effort to send letters to his mother regularly and had a brief conversation with her via a quick connection. Mom was sitting in the recently renovated kitchen. Under her feet, a robotic vacuum cleaner, adorned with a cheerful turtle cover, hummed homey sounds while the first snowstorm of the year battered against the dark window. The conversation began quietly with mutual inquiries about each other's lives; then Max tried to subtly explore what had happened during his first trip to Mars in his distant childhood. For some time now, thoughts about what had compelled him to journey such a distance had become quite persistent. Perhaps before, he hadn't had much time to think about it. But on Mars, paradoxically, there was both time and a desire to rummage through his own thoughts. Max realized that he didn't really have any childhood memories of that trip, just some fragments, even though he was ten years old. He hardly remembered the trip itself\u2014only more fragments. Yet afterward, there were bright, vivid images of him sitting on the floor with models of rovers. It was as if before that moment, there lived in his body some amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then suddenly, another child emerged, possessing a kind of determination that was far from childish in pursuit of a goal that was definitely not childish. Now, during long, dull evenings, Max tried to find that previous boy with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers, and computer games. He tried but couldn't; that boy had dissolved like the smoke of a campfire at dawn. When Max asked, his mother simply shrugged in confusion and replied that the underground cities seemed boring and uninteresting to her, just like the trip as a whole. And in general, it would have been better if Max returned home, found a simpler job, and focused on 'producing' and raising his own children with Masha.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max was categorically displeased with his new job in telecommunications. There was no real programming in his current work: it was just the monotonous gathering of a database and training a neural network that handled optimizing load and traffic in a specific area. In the very first week at the new place, Max fully felt what it meant to be a cog in the system and an appendage to his neurochip. Five hundred programmers crowded into just the optimization sector, tightly packed like semiconductors in a crystal, in sprawling halls filled with terminals providing access to the internal network. The neural network and the database he was working with were just a small part of the supercomputer's lifecycle management system. He did not know how the other parts of the system operated. He only had access to limited functionality within his modest area of expertise, and that too was still in a training version. A diverse set of situations and reactions were meticulously outlined in detailed job descriptions, and deviating from them was strictly forbidden. In fact, studying the instructions became Max's main task for the next three months. All the managers and nearly all the leading specialists in the optimization sector were purely 100% Martians, without any earthly impurities, which led Max to gloomy reflections about his future career prospects. Naturally, he prepared for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost word for word, seeing nothing complex in them and was confident that any technician of average qualification could handle such matters. Yet, he still awaited the exam with fear and anxiety, fearing that he might get some unpleasant surprise from his employer.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max also discovered that all the inhabitants of Mars, both native and those who came from other planets, are divided into two main groups based on their affiliation to a particular network provider: the \"chemists\" \u2014 fans of keeping molecular processors in their minds, and the \"electronics,\" who are enthusiasts of semiconductor devices. These two groups have been engaged in a perpetual sacred war over which chips are better. M-chips integrate better into living organisms, while semiconductors are more versatile and efficient. The sector optimization chief, Albert Bonford, was a typical \"chemist,\" fanatically obsessed with cleanliness and prone to panic at the presence of any foreign molecule in the surrounding air. The \"electronics\" were equally fixated on electrostatic protection, fearing in paranoid fits that some overly charged individual would cause a discharge in their thin-film brains. Chemists surrounded themselves with flocks of detector robots, while electronics ionized the air around them, wearing special conductive clothing and anti-static protection bracelets. Both groups were wary of physical contact with other living beings. Surely, there were individuals who acknowledged that both types of devices have their advantages and trusted the built-in protection, but for some reason, Max mostly encountered stubborn blowhards. Evidently, the level of cybernetization had no effect on the inherent flaws of human nature. Max had not yet joined either sect, as his neurochip elicited only polite condescension rather than a desire to engage in intellectual discussions.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All these challenging circumstances were compounded by the small cultural shock Max experienced from being introduced to Martian networking standards. He had never really thought about how Martian networks achieved such high data transfer speeds to support all the virtual add-ons, like cosmetic applications, without glitches or lags. The neurochip itself, being just an interface between the human brain and the network, certainly lacked the necessary power to run complex applications. Therefore, Martian networks prioritized information exchange speed so that users could utilize network capabilities. servers<\/a>To ensure reliable transmission of all these peta- and zetta-bytes among millions of users, Martian wireless communication systems evolved into something incredibly complex. No amount of trickery involving channel compression and separation was effective anymore, so underground cities were overwhelmed not only with the entire available radio frequency spectrum but also with infrared, and even encroachments into ultraviolet. This led to special requirements even for lighting and advertising signs. In general, another Martian behemoth \u2014 the EMC commission \u2014 was no less ruthless than all the others. They could easily penalize for some uncertified flashlight.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Wireless communication repeaters in Tula were practically everywhere. From stationary ones: on towers and cave ceilings with numerous active antennas, to simple micro-robots stuck to the walls of buildings and caves like parasitic mushrooms. Managing the variety of antennas, their coverage areas, monitoring the level of scattering and reflection of signals from numerous surfaces was one of the functions of the new supercomputer. Under its watchful electronic eye, numerous repeaters directed signals where needed with a specified frequency and level, without interfering with each other, guiding users during their chaotic movements around the city and timely transmitting to neighboring devices. Consequently, users received high-quality images without lags. After gaining a first impression of how all this works, Max certainly lost some confidence in his ability to design similar systems. However, he also did not want to spend the rest of his life as an appendage to his neurochip. In response to cautious inquiries, the lead programmer-optimizer, with a coldly arrogant smile, shared a thick tome titled: \"General Principles of Channel Separation in Telecom Wireless Networks,\" which made Max feel far from a genius by the second page of the book. He understood that he couldn't give up. He even outlined his primary tasks: to complete the probationary period and save money for upgrading his outdated chip. But for now, he had to carry out tedious work according to instructions, almost like on an assembly line. And Max felt his determination to break through dwindling with each passing day: he was sinking deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The variety was brought by shifts every two weeks when the dazed optimizers, overwhelmed by endless databases, went to work in the field: fixing minor faults in network equipment or optical cables. One could refuse the shifts, but Max eagerly grabbed them, as did many of his colleagues.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Usually, all the shifts felt quite similar \u2013 Max and his partner searched for the malfunctioning micro-retransmitter and replaced it with a new one. However, this calm job, which didn't require special efforts or skills, became a sort of respite amid the endless stream of monotonous weekdays. Just as Max didn\u2019t enjoy training neural networks under Martians, he strangely found everything about being a simple installer appealing. He liked his partner, Boris, with whom he shared the optimizer's bread in Telecom. They worked in the same hall, at adjacent terminals, and also went on shifts together. Boris explained that the purpose of shifts, accepted as a tradition in Telecom, was not to compensate for the company\u2019s lack of low-skilled labor. Instead, it was to get to know the work of different departments and foster team cohesion. Apparently, some particularly clever manager from the HR department came up with the shifts, from the kind who invents all sorts of 'enthralling' corporate gatherings that can officially be skipped, but are practically not recommended to miss. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max didn\u2019t like managers, and honestly, who does? But he actually liked this particular idea. \"Sometimes these assholes can be useful,\" Max admitted after the first shift. Boris also significantly contributed to the success of such events. Calm, not talkative, with a philosophically relaxed outlook on life. Boris, a short, slightly barrel-shaped beer lover with a penchant for network RPGs and wildly improbable tales about Martian inhabitants, their customs and lives, resembled a gnome, or dwarf, as he always insisted, and in his favorite online gatherings, he always played the corresponding character. Moreover, he carried a hefty backpack everywhere, equipped with a full emergency kit, and never grew tired of repeating with a serious demeanor that, if anything happened, he would survive, while the rest would perish in agony. However, in his magical backpack, besides the relatively useless oxygen tanks, there were always beer and chips, so Max didn\u2019t make too much of a fuss about it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They and Boris chose tasks in the most remote corners of the underground city without consulting each other. In just eight working hours, they needed to complete three tasks, which posed no difficulty even when traveling leisurely by public transport. Max enjoyed traveling and liked trains, so he truly relished his duties. Typically, these would unfold as follows: a meeting with his partner at some station and then a gradual journey in gently rocking trains or rapid maglevs. Transfers at the bustling central stations filled with people or long waits for rare trains at drab tiled stations somewhere deep in the distant undergrounds. In the vast city of Tule, there was no universally recognized center, nor any particular construction system; it simply sprawled through the planet's natural voids like a chaotic cluster of stars in the sky. Somewhere, a jumble of bright dots merged into a blinding spot, while in other areas, the darkness of industrial zones was interspersed with occasional lights. The metro map of Tule was extraordinarily complex. It looked like the masterpiece of a mad spider, weaving a dense multi-level network through some districts, while leaving a single thin thread in others. The evening before the trip, Max indulged in the inexplicable pleasure of spinning the three-dimensional map, imagining how tomorrow he would glide past this spherical cluster of dots, then through a thin line that occasionally surfaced on the planet, reaching a mass resembling a thick, blurry inkblot, where he would first tackle a task. Alternatively, he could reach the inkblot via a slightly longer route with transfers, but it would take him through a fascinatingly daunting area of the first settlement. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The endless city of Tula, gliding past, struck with its contrast: the empty gray concrete rows of boxes in the \"gamma\" and \"delta\" zones were replaced by a whimsical tangle of towers enveloped in a network of paths and platforms packed with people wearing caps woven with light-guiding fibers for signal transmission. Some followers of fashion trends preferred elegant decorative umbrellas. People with amusing umbrellas and hats reminded Max of aliens with antennas from children's drawings, and the passing Tula only resembled a phantasmagoria even more due to their presence. Martian cities never slept; in the underground, the shift from day to night was imperceptible, so everyone lived according to the time that suited them. All establishments and organizations operated around the clock, and the streets were bustling with activity at any hour.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Usually, Max and Boris would finish one or two bottles of beer even before the first task. Consequently, the first task was completed quickly and in a cheerful mood; the second one was, in principle, the same, but by the time they got to the third, some difficulties arose. Therefore, they would try to leave the easiest task for last, preferably close to home. Often, Max would be silent and hardly talk to Boris, even though Boris was always eager to share some local tale, but seeing that his partner replied with monosyllabic phrases, he didn\u2019t press the issue. Boris was the kind of person with whom Max felt quite comfortable being quiet; for some reason, he felt he had known Boris for ten years and that this trip was at least the hundredth. Max watched out the window, sometimes pressing his forehead against it, leisurely sipping his beer and reflecting along these lines: \u201cWhat a strange person I am \u2014 I wanted so much to get to Mars that I was running around like a wind-up toy, almost without breaks for sleep or food. And here I am on Mars, and what\u2019s happening: I no longer need any job or career; I\u2019ve completely lost my drive for all this hustle and bustle, as if some switch has been flipped. Of course, I\u2019ll do the obviously necessary things, like taking qualifying exams, but just out of inertia. I\u2019ve completely lost my goal and motivation. So what kind of downshifting is this happening in the Martian expanses? Maybe I should become a handyman since I like that kind of work? If only Masha could see me now, I would definitely have a serious conversation ahead of me. But Masha is over there, and I\u2019m here.\u201d \u2014 Max logically concluded as he opened the second bottle.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Very often during the trips, thoughts about his unclear dream of transforming Mars visited Max, and the predictions made by Ruslan that no career could be made here wouldn't leave his mind. \u201cSo this is my entire Martian dream \u2014 to come to Mars, realize there\u2019s nothing to catch, and relax,\u201d Max thought. To share his doubts, he turned to Boris, who seemed to be a thoughtful and experienced person:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, Boris, you seem to know everything about local life. Explain to me, what\u2019s this thing \u2014 a Martian dream?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What do you mean? The Martian dream as a social phenomenon or a specific service of certain companies?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is there such a service? \u2013 Max exclaimed, surprised.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, have you fallen from the moon? Any child knows about this, even though the advertisement for that stuff is officially banned, Boris explained with the air of an expert. \u2014 It\u2019s like if you haven\u2019t achieved anything in life, have gotten disappointed in it, and if you\u2019re just a stupid loser, then there\u2019s only one way for you, to the Martian dream. There are special companies that, for a relatively moderate fee, are ready to create an entire world where everything will be as you wish. A bit of magic with your brain, and you\u2019ll completely forget that the real world actually exists. You can happily splash around in your cozy matrix as long as there\u2019s money in your account. There are light versions of this drug-like stuff, where you can enjoy your own world for a couple of days without therapeutic amnesia, like going on vacation. But, as you understand, the light version doesn\u2019t bring full pleasure; it\u2019s not always possible to deceive, first and foremost, yourself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How are these light versions different from the regular full immersion?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There, everything is much cooler; you can\u2019t tell it apart from the real world. They use clever m-chips and supercomputers to model all the sensations.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How can those so-called losers afford the Martian dream? It must be quite expensive, right?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, Max, you really have fallen from the moon, or rather from Earth. Well, supercomputers, m-chips, and so what? Virtually sunbathing on the Canary Islands is still a hundred times cheaper than flying there in a spaceship. Think about it, living in a biovan has a ton of advantages in terms of expenses: you don\u2019t take up much space, nutrition through an IV drip, no transport, clothing, or entertainment costs. Plus, if you use the standard world from the provider\u2019s catalog, the Martian dream becomes accessible to everyone. Even if you work as a waiter in a diner, you can save up for the Martian dream, provided you rent a shack in the 'gamma' zone and eat nutritious bricks.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So what you\u2019re saying is: somewhere deep within the red planet, there are huge caves filled from top to bottom with rows of biovans housing human beings? So the fantasies of dystopians have come true.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, maybe everything doesn't look so apocalyptic, but in general, yes, that's the case. There are definitely plenty of customers chasing the Martian dream. But they chose it themselves. In today's world, you are completely free in your choices, as long as they bring profit to corporations.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I just had another culture shock, Max stated, gulping down his beer almost in one go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What's so shocking about it? Many people from other planets, after saving up some money, head off in pursuit of the Martian dream. By the way, they issue visas without any problems, and unlimited rates even partially compensate for it. Sorry, on Mars and in the cities of the protectorate, there are no social benefits, and the number of drunks, abandoned elders, and others who can't integrate into the market is not decreasing. So, they are disposed of in this relatively humane way; what's so bad about that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That's a nightmare. It's very unfair.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Unfair? The contract clearly specifies the terms.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It's fundamentally unfair to give such a choice. As we know, humans are weak, and some things shouldn't be choices.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So, it's better to suffer a slow death from alcoholism?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Undoubtedly. If such a path is laid out, it must be followed to the end.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You're a fatalist, Max.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So, the unlimited rate really has no time limit?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 If you have enough cash to pay for storage services based on interest from your deposit, then the rate will be truly eternal. They can even extract the brain and place it in a separate jar. Brains on artificial support can supposedly function for a couple of hundred years.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I wonder how many dreamers are there on Mars? Can energy be harvested from them?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I don't know, Max, better check with NeuroGoogle how many there are and what energy they produce.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I'm curious, what does the contract signing process look like?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Max, you're scaring me; I see you're genuinely interested in this garbage. You should play Warcraft, for example. Or just drink, after all.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Don't worry, just idle curiosity. But still, you walk into the office and say, 'I want to be a rock star in America in the sixties', to have wild popularity and screaming fans at concerts. They say, 'Alright, here's a special annex to the contract; describe in as much detail as possible what you want to see.'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s probably how it happens. Only your own dreams are really expensive; the more original, the pricier\u2014time from the Martians doesn\u2019t come cheap. They usually offer a standard set to choose from: billionaire, secret agent, or, for example, a brave galaxy conqueror in a spaceship.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let\u2019s assume it\u2019s a brave galaxy conqueror, and then what?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, I haven\u2019t used that junk, I\u2019m just making it up\u2026 So, let\u2019s say, to keep you from getting bored conquering the galaxy for decades, you will save the loveliest of women from the clutches of evil aliens. And, apparently, they will ask you what kind of women you prefer: brunettes, blondes, with a C cup or an E cup\u2026 or, well, guys. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But what if you don\u2019t even know yourself?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2014 What don\u2019t you know, women or men? \u2013 Boris was surprised.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, if you don\u2019t really know what you dream of and can\u2019t describe it, naturally assuming you have enough money for a personal matrix.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If money is there, they\u2019ll bring in an experienced mind-reader who will pry out all your hidden desires from your chaotic mind. If, of course, you don\u2019t get scared of what you find out. I think in the case of someone like Franz Kafka, it would be more of a nightmare than a dream.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 To each their own; maybe someone would enjoy turning into a terrible insect.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There are all kinds of perverts in the world. And you, don\u2019t you really know what you want?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, that\u2019s my main problem.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I hasten to assure you, your problems are somewhat contrived.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What can you do? A simple person has simple desires and motives, while a person with a complicated psyche, as you can see, faces constant misery from their intellect. Plus, I\u2019m afraid that the Martians might figure me out before I figure myself out. They don\u2019t indulge in fruitless self-exploration; rather, they approach every problem pragmatically and utilitarian. That\u2019s why I imagined the phenomenon of Martian dreaming quite differently. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And how is that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Something like special supercomputer systems within the bowels of the largest provider corporations, designed to decode human personalities based on their online activities. They gradually uncover what an average user wants and subtly present them, in their virtual world, with what they want to see in real life.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, why else? So that a person thinks everything is fine and doesn't get agitated. And to brainwash, suppress, and then mock the clueless little people while extracting free electricity from them. This is what any self-respecting Martian corporation should be doing. Or, at the very least, to convince them to stuff yet another latest, most advanced uber-device into their beleaguered brains.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You have quite complex conspiratorial views on the surrounding reality. Relax, the world is simpler than that. They will certainly sell you advertisements, but why bother to decipher everything... What's the point of getting so worked up over miserable little people?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, that's true, it was more inspired by words from another person. What do you think about the Martian dream in a social sense?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A beautiful fairy tale. To maintain their overwhelming intellectual superiority, the Martians pull all the best minds from the Solar System with their tales and then flush them down the toilet here into pointless jobs like optimizer programmers. Back home, these homegrown intellectuals could do something truly useful.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Ha, so you also entertain the thought that the Martians are to blame for everything, \u2014 Max smirked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What can you do, it's a convenient explanation, \u2014 Boris shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They fell silent for a moment. The monotonous, reddish landscapes of the surface passed by. Behind Boris, a shabby-looking gentleman occasionally snorted, shamelessly claiming three seats for himself to rest.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, it turned out strange. \u2014 Max broke the silence. \u2014 Apparently, my Mars is a castle in the sand. The first encounter with reality washed it away without leaving a trace.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You know, you're worse for yourself than any Martians. Think more about real problems.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And this is said to me by a devoted fan of Warcraft and an 80-level gnome.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dwarf\u2026 alright, am I a lost cause, and there\u2019s still some hope for you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why immediately a lost cause?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The fate is not easy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Will you share?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not a chance. The atmosphere is wrong, the mood is off. I've been inviting you to hang out somewhere for a while now: I know a couple of great bars that are affordable and have a nice vibe, yet you keep coming up with lame excuses. After work, it seems you can't, tomorrow you have to get up early, and on weekends you have some stuff to do, preparing for exams.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, I'm really preparing, \u2014 Max said uncertainly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, yes, I remember, you\u2019re tackling that monumental work: \"General Principles of Channel Division in Telecom Wireless Networks.\" How's it going, have you managed much?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So far not much\u2026, who am I kidding, \u2014 Max admitted gloomily.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So you've changed your mind about becoming a systems architect?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The old Max, forged in the fires of Moscow, would never have been halted by a pathetic two thousand pages, but this new Max seems to have stalled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Aha, all those dreams and introspections only soften the will to succeed, \u2013 Boris stated importantly. \u2013 And you haven\u2019t even visited the HR department?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I did. There\u2019s this really interesting manager there. He seems like a Martian, but he's only as tall as a regular person. Although still a freak: skinny with a huge head. And somehow, he\u2019s a bit livelier than his peers, looking more like a human than a robot.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Arthur Smith?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you know him?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don\u2019t have a personal acquaintance, but I've been laboring in Telecom for a while, so I've encountered many interesting figures. He has these enormous eyes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes-yes, really huge eyes, and gray too; usually, Martians have black ones. A true \"black sheep.\" He honestly explained that I won\u2019t be hired as a lead specialist, at least due to my old neurochip. They said that considering my age, installing a professional chip and the training to work with it would be quite expensive for the company. They might cover such costs, but only for particularly outstanding employees. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I know a tale about this Arthur.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Tell it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 More like a rumor than a tale.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, go ahead and share.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I won\u2019t, \u2014 Boris shook his head, \u2014 it's also not very appropriate. If I had heard something like that about myself, I wouldn\u2019t be pleased.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, Boris, you're like a sadist. First, you mention a tale, then clarify it\u2019s a rumor, and then add that it's a dirty rumor too. What, did he get drunk at a corporate party and perform a wild dance on the table?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Ugh, such mundane stories I wouldn\u2019t even think of telling, \u2014 Boris grimaced, \u2014 especially because, as far as I know, Martians don\u2019t consume alcohol. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, just tell it already, stop holding back. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, I won\u2019t. I'm saying the atmosphere isn't right, the mood isn't right; after three or four glasses of rum with cola, then I\u2019m all in. Besides, you didn\u2019t appreciate my last tale.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why didn\u2019t I appreciate it? It was a very intriguing story.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What but?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Last time, you added 'but'.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But it's unbelievable, \u2014 Max raised his hands.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What is unbelievable about it?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Aha, so you don\u2019t believe that evil Martian corporations are just waiting to invade everyone\u2019s soul? And that the entire network is some semi-sentient substance, like a living ocean, that breeds virtual monsters that devour users... So that\u2019s all supposed to be pure truth?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course it\u2019s true, I\u2019ve seen it with my own eyes. Just look at some of our colleagues, they\u2019ve long since become shadows, I\u2019m sure.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And who among our colleagues has become a shadow? Gordon, maybe?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why Gordon?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Because he\u2019s too busy kissing Martian asses, that lousy lead programmer. All he knows how to do is make presentations.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, Max, the Martians aren\u2019t involved at all.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So your digital Solaris doesn\u2019t care whom it consumes, people or Martians?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The network doesn\u2019t specifically consume anyone; you haven't been listening to me, apparently. A shadow is something that reflects our own thoughts and desires but has no specific physical carrier or piece of code.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A digital god to whom we must pay homage and offer sacrifices?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not at all. Shadows are born solely from people themselves. You think the network will tolerate everything \u2014 all the foolish, disgusting requests, entertainment, and that nothing will happen to you. In virtual reality, you can torture kittens or dismember little girls without punishment. Aha, yeah right! Any request or action in the network casts a shadow. And if all your thoughts and desires revolve around virtual entertainment, sooner or later that shadow will come to life. And then, sorry, whatever you did, that\u2019s how the shadow will be. If the real world is that boring and uninteresting, the shadow will gladly take your place while you\u2019re having fun online. And you won\u2019t even notice how the shadow becomes real, and you turn into its bodiless slave.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Aha, I guess your shadow looks like a gnome in mithril armor with a beard down to his waist.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Haha... You can laugh as much as you want, but I swear, one day I saw my shadow. I didn't log into full immersion for a month after that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And what did this terrifying shadow look like?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Like... a dwarf with my facial features.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Oh, Boris...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max choked on his beer and couldn\u2019t cough or laugh for a while.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A dwarf with your facial features! Did you accidentally look in the mirror? Did you forget to turn off your makeup before that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Oh, shut up! \u2014 Boris waved his hand and opened a second bottle of beer. \u2014 You'll be sorry when that shadow appears, then it won't be funny.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m not planning to dive or virtually interact with you guys. All these Warcrafts and Harborian eras don't really interest me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You don't have to game, you just need to spend a lot of time in full immersion, no matter the purpose. And do you know what you can never do?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And what is that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In diving, you must never have sex with bots.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Seriously? Maybe you shouldn't watch porn either. Half of the users order the latest chip upgrades and bio baths just for that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They don't even realize what they\u2019re doing. Any strong emotion helps shadows to be born, and sex is the strongest emotion. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Then everyone would have already created these shadows. Or at least they would walk around with hairy palms, if we believe the older version of this tale.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Maybe, who knows how many shadows live among us? A shadow would have access to all your memories and personality while you are sitting in virtual bondage. How can you distinguish it from a real person?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You can't \u2014 Max shrugged. \u2014 It\u2019s hard to tell a modern bot apart. Only with some tricky logical questions. And as for a malicious awakened neural network, born from the vices of human nature... there's no way around it. Maybe we\u2019re the only two real people, and the rest are all shadows?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A digital apocalypse is inevitable if people don\u2019t get their act together and stop spreading trash, chaos, and debauchery on the internet.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sounds like a cult: 'Repent, sinners!' Some people, in my opinion, spend too much time obsessing over various orcs, as one acquaintance puts it, and start seeing shadows and other glitches.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You\u2019re such a bore, Max. Any legend is based on something... <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Excuse me, \u2014 the scruffy gentleman suddenly interrupted Boris, \u2014 but the subject of your conversation seemed so interesting to me\u2026 May I join you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Without waiting for an invitation, the newly-formed acquaintance crawled closer to them. His face, thin, wrinkled, and unkempt, betrayed a worn-out man who clearly couldn't afford cosmetic products. His modest outfit consisted of torn jeans, a t-shirt, and a worn-out jacket from which a dirty gray padding was sticking out. \"And where is the environmental agency looking?\" \u2014 Max thought. \u2014 \"It feels like this mutated Greenpeace has been tailing me since I stepped off the shuttle, while this guy across from me seems completely unbothered.\" However, Max didn't sense any particular odor, so he refrained from showing his displeasure at the new neighbor.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Allow me to introduce myself: Philipp Kochura, but friends call me Phil. Currently, I\u2019m a free-roaming philosopher.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What a convoluted euphemism, \u2014 Max remarked sarcastically.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A classical education makes itself known. Sorry, I didn\u2019t catch your name, buddy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max. Currently a promising scientist, who has escaped corporate slavery for a day.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Boris, \u2014 Boris reluctantly introduced himself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Would you mind if I tasted your refreshing drink? I\u2019ve been dying of thirst.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Boris glanced at the uninvited guest with annoyance but pulled a bottle of beer from his backpack.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Thank you very much. \u2014 Phil paused for a moment, enjoying the freebie. \u2014 So, regarding the eavesdropped conversation, I\u2019m already apologizing for intruding again, but it seems you, Maxim, don\u2019t believe in shadows? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, I\u2019m open to believing anything if there\u2019s at least some evidence provided.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, believe it or not, but I saw a real living shadow and spoke to it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Boris vigilantly guarded his backpack from any further advances by Phil. The skepticism on his face could have made a paleontologist envious, especially when debating a creationist, as if it wasn't he who had just chided his friend for being boring a minute ago.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did you torture virtual kittens? Alright, it\u2019s a long road, go ahead, tell me, \u2014 Max readily agreed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 My story began in the distant year 2120. It was a grim time: the ghosts of fallen states still roamed the Solar System. And I, young and strong, so different from how I am now, was eager to fight against the omnipresent corporations. Back then, they still produced neurochips with the option to disable wireless connectivity. Such chips allowed a clever person to do a lot. In those years, I was quite knowledgeable about the intricacies of illegal work. Nowadays, no one is surprised by the initially closed architecture of all axes, as well as the constantly open wireless ports on the chip. You do know that ports 10 to 1000 on the chip are always open.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Thank you, we are aware, \u2014 Max confirmed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you know what they are for?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 For transmitting service information.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Aha, besides service information, a lot more is transmitted through them. For instance, the developers of cosmetic software have long agreed to also use these ports. Because if they used the regular ones, normal people could just install a firewall and the clients of those companies would appear in their original form. But the main thing is, everyone really doesn't care that they\u2019ve had their right to privacy taken away\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s very sad, isn\u2019t it? We bitterly regret the loss of privacy, \u2014 Max said in a deliberately soothing voice, \u2014 But you seemed to be about to tell us about the revived shadow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s exactly what I\u2019m getting to. Oh, could I wet my throat a bit? \u2013 Phil asked, showing his empty bottle and cautiously turned towards Boris, but met a piercing gaze that foretold nothing good \u2013 Fine, whatever. So, when you are seized by a grand goal, you rush forward like a spurred horse. In my youth, I was that galloping horse. When you charge ahead without regard for the path, the world shakes and swims in a reddish haze, and the words of reason drown in the thunder of hooves. I thought I could manage anything and could quickly run the shortest path to my goal. But the ancients were right when they said that a true samurai should not seek easy paths\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, buddy, I understand you\u2019re a philosopher and all that, but could we get to the point more quickly?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What's with you, Max, why are you hanging on every word, \u2014 Boris interrupted irritably, \u2014 you found someone worth listening to.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay, Bor, let the man finish.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, I was running, not paying attention to the road, and then suddenly a lasso was thrown around my neck, dragging me down the slope. It happened so quickly and unexpectedly, as if I were a limp rag doll. The fall began, seemingly over nothing: I was given an important task, and for the sake of secrecy, I had to become a temporary resident of the Martian dream...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So you were in the Martian dream? \u2013 Max brightened up. \u2013 Tell me, what\u2019s it like?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It can't be described in just a few words. I've been there many times. Right now, it's been two years since I got involved. But recently I stumbled upon a decent fortune, so I\u2019ll soon be back there. I just need a couple of cryptos for a full five-year stint. In the shabby reality, the Martian dream feels like a beautiful bright dream. The details are hard to recall, but I really want to go back. Just a little more, and this stinking train and our conversation will turn into an unpleasant but harmless dream there... Damn, buddy, my throat is really dry, it\u2019s scratching. \u2014 Phil stared greedily at the magical little backpack.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Bor, treat our friend.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Boris gave Max a very expressive look, but he shared the bottle.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So you still remember real life in the Martian dream?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 ...Yeah, there are different options, \u2014 Phil answered after a moment, first taking a hearty sip of the healing elixir. \u2013 If the memories cause unbearable discomfort, they can be removed without any problem, but only with the unlimited option. I've never had that kind of money, so I have to make do with trips of three to four years. On short and medium trips, amnesia is prohibited; otherwise, how would they bring you back? But the local engineers have devised a clever psychological effect. In dreams, reality feels like a blurred, half-forgotten nightmare. You know, sometimes there are those nightmares where you end up in prison, or fail your university exams. And then you wake up and breathe a sigh of relief, realizing it was just a bad dream. That's pretty much how it is in the Martian dream. You wake up in a cold sweat and exhale, phew... the shabby reality is just a harmless dream. Though, there is a slight side effect: upon returning, the dream takes on the same characteristics.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Strange, does a trip, or say a tourist journey, hold any value if you've practically lost all memory of it? \u2013 asked Max.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It does, of course, \u2014 Phil confidently replied, \u2014 I remember how good it felt. There's also a common variant of selectively wiping memories so that the Martian dream evolves as a continuation of a previous life. It's like living as you always have, but suddenly luck turns to your favor instead of its usual spot. You suddenly discover an incredible talent within yourself, or you become successful in business, making a ton of money, buying a villa by the coast, and women are all over you, too. No deception: everything you ordered comes to pass. And you won\u2019t feel any catch either: the program deliberately throws in various obstacles that you have to bravely overcome.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what if you order a victory for an anti-Martian revolution across the Solar System, with yourself as the leader, driving Martians into filtration camps where they barbarically remove their neurochips? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You can poison them in gas chambers or build communism, \u2014 laughed Phil. \u2014 The guys trading dreams are accommodating to their clients' whims.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Boris also felt the need to chime in: <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did you think anyone cares about the political beliefs of hopeless dreamers? There are plenty of people in the world angry at the brutal tyranny of corporations. You\u2019re not the first, nor the last, who wants to initiate a revolution and build communism.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why do you think I want that? \u2013 Max shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Because I\u2019m already fed up with your talks about the Martian dream. Do you want to panhandle on trains too?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why are you getting angry, Boris?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, what's with this aggressive bias? \u2014 Phil was a bit hurt. \u2014 Everyone drinks, spends all day logged into online games, but when they see a harmless dreamer, they pounce with hypocritical accusations. You are angry at yourselves but take it out on others. We\u2019re just going a bit further than the average person. And notice: we aren\u2019t doing anything bad to anyone.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Blah-blah-blah, the standard whining. No one loves us, no one understands\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Anyway, don\u2019t pay attention to it, Max, \u2014 Phil continued. \u2013 Essentially, if you ignore the memory aspect, a dream is no different from online games or social media, except for the duration of experience. In the standard world from the catalog, there will be real people around, and you can even hang out with friends there. You can join someone\u2019s personal dream, which will be cheaper, but you\u2019ll have to accept that the dream owner will be some kind of dictator-emperor. In general, there are various options.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But the end is always the same, \u2014 Boris stated. \u2013 Complete social maladjustment and progressive sclerosis from your psychological effects.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 They\u2019re not mine\u2026 But the memory really deteriorates, \u2014 Phil suddenly agreed. \u2013 And returning gets harder each time, of course. The rotten reality doesn\u2019t wait for us with open arms. The world changes with every leap, and after three or four trips, you give up trying to keep up. You toil like a robot to save up for another year or two. Often, patience runs out, and you break down without having really earned anything\u2026 \u2014 Phil was already quite dazed after a couple of bottles. Boris resignedly waved his hand and handed him a third.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just shut up finally, \u2014 he explained, \u2014 by the way, this is the last one.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019ll buy it on the way, \u2014 Max promised. \u2013 One thing I don\u2019t understand: why not hang out in a Martian dream without any amnesia or side effects? Then it would turn into pretty harmless entertainment.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It won\u2019t, \u2014 Boris cut in. \u2013 No matter what dreamers and providers say about its harmlessness and similarity to regular online games, they all know perfectly well that without psychological effects, this whole idea completely loses its meaning. The Martian dream is invented to create an illusion of a happy life, not to slay monsters and achieve another level-up. And happiness is a fragile thing. It is a state of the soul; we are not entirely primitive animals for whom unlimited money and females are enough for happiness. In the Martian dream, such prosaic things as societal recognition and self-respect are impossible without complete or partial amnesia.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, do you understand the subject, hic, \u2014 Phil said. \u2013 You know what drives you crazy in the moment? It\u2019s personal dreams, whether with complete amnesia or partial. I saw a guy who was pulled out of his personal dream. He pulled off some scam to pay, but it got exposed. He was there for just about four years, but what a pathetic sight it was\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 More pathetic than you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, Boris, don\u2019t exaggerate. I have everything under control. I\u2019m not a fool; I know what a proper trip should be like. And that guy had a dream that was like a paradise, everything falling from the sky without lifting a finger. No surprises from the environment in the form of challenges and responses, so his consciousness deteriorated at an incredible speed. And due to complete inadequacy, real people didn\u2019t dare to show up in his cozy world. Only bots were having fun with him. Actually, you can easily tell a bot from a human if you know what to look for. I think they don\u2019t keep such idiots around for too long. They\u2019ll spin the movie for about ten years until the brain finally softens, then they flush the biovessel contents down the drain and launch the next one, hic, \u2013 Phil stupidly chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You see, Max, he laid out the whole truth.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, good job. Here comes a provocative question: if the Martian dream is indistinguishable from reality, maybe we\u2019re there right now. How can I, for example, understand that Phil isn\u2019t a programmed bot?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why am I a programmed bot? I\u2019m not a bot, hic.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Draw him a CAPTCHA, \u2014 Boris suggested. \u2014 Or ask your tricky logical question.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Phil, repeat the third word from the phrase you just said.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What? \u2014 Philip blinked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Definitely a bot, or a shadow. We actually started the conversation this way: like, did you meet an animated shadow somewhere? Maybe you\u2019ll finally tell us where you found it?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In the Martian dream, of course.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, that\u2019s the perfect place for them, \u2014 Boris agreed, slightly tempering his skepticism towards Phil.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, Phil, wake up. Start talking.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max shook the wandering philosopher who was dozing off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, I was a member of the organization Kvadius. I was an ordinary quad and carried out various missions throughout the Solar System. I received all instructions by decoding messages from a user with the nickname 'kadar' in a social network. I barely ever saw my comrades, knew nothing about who was leading us, but I believed we were close to victory and that the total power of corporations would soon crumble. Now I understand how foolish I was, and how irrelevant our struggles were to the Neurotech.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So what if it was foolish? At least it was a fight for a just cause. Better than simply fading away from the real world.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I agree, better.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So how did you end up living your current life?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How did I end up? Let it go, he should just sleep already, \u2014 Boris was eager to end the conversation. \u2014 The junk he got hooked on creates a severe psychological dependence. Once you try it, you can't quit.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I didn\u2019t go there by myself the first time, \u2014 Phil started, slightly defensively. \u2013 The first time I was sent there to obtain some important information and then deliver it as a courier to Titan. The information is uploaded to the brain via a hypno-program, and only the one who utters the code word can retrieve it. Upon hearing the correct code, the courier enters a trance and flawlessly reproduces whatever was uploaded to them, no matter if it's a nonsensical string of numbers or sounds. The information is stored directly in the neurons, and you have no access to it yourself, nor is there any artificial carrier that can be detected. I don\u2019t know how they pull off such a trick, but it\u2019s quite safe in terms of secrecy. Even if the courier is captured by Neurotech, they won\u2019t get anything from him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It seems this Kvadius knows its technical stuff, \u2014 Max remarked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah. Basically, I was supposed to get the information in the Martian Dream. The organization often used the dream as a safe place for meetings. They have their own network that isn't connected to the internet, and even their own physical interfaces, like m-chips. Corporations have to go out of their way to get into it. Unless the Martian Dream's admins happen to check the logs. But usually, everyone doesn't care what the clients are up to there.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Didn't your organization fear that the brave quads might accidentally lose themselves from frequent encounters? \u2013 Max inquired.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, we weren't afraid. And I wasn't either; we had a great goal...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, did you see the shadow come to life? \u2014 Max pressed on, noticing that Phil was on the verge of passing out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I did.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What does it look like?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Like a creepy Nazgul in a torn black cloak with a deep hood. Instead of a face, it had a swirling mass of inky darkness, with piercing blue eyes glowing within.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And how do you know it was the infamous shadow? In a Martian dream, one can certainly appear however they like.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don't know what it was: a complex virus embedded in the Martian dream software or true artificial intelligence. I am only certain it was neither a human nor a service bot. I looked into those eyes and saw myself, my entire life at once, all my pitiful memories and dreams of overcoming corporations. All my future, even this conversation, was in those eyes. I will never be able to forget them... now my life has no other worthy purpose but to serve the shadow; without it, it has not even a drop of meaning... Then I heard the command and immediately blacked out, and when I came to, the shadow had vanished.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00abYes, it seems that this shadow severely damages vulnerable minds,\u00bb \u2014 Max shuddered.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Phil, wake up. What's next? What was the order?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 To deliver a secret message to Titan. There, you have to show up at certain places every day for three weeks and wait for someone to come for the message.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did you complete the task? Did anyone come?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don't know, I did everything the shadow told me to. If anyone did show up, I might have forgotten about it. I only remember standing in that frozen hole for three full weeks.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And the message is still inside you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Probably, but believe me, it's more inaccessible than Alpha Centauri.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did everything the shadow told you, \u2014 Boris said with the maximum degree of sarcasm he could muster. \u2014 Did you ever think that it was all just your imagination? A little side effect from abusing digital drugs.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I told you, I wasn't abusing anything back then. Though, maybe you\u2019re right, it just seemed to me. After wandering in a miserable reality a bit longer, I realized that both the world of free software and the victory over corporations were mere phantoms, and I had always been just an ordinary foolish dreamer. Right now, I don\u2019t even have confidence that the Quadus organization exists or that corporations were just playing cat and mouse with us. What could I do? I returned to that world where my struggle was real. Later, of course, I tried to quit; I held on for about five years..., but, understandably, I slipped... And then it all went downhill from there...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Phil was completely drained and closed his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max, stop bothering him, let him sleep.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let him sleep. A sad story.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There\u2019s nothing sadder, \u2014 Boris agreed. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max turned to his reflection in the window. From the darkness of the passing tunnel, another dreamer gazed back at him intently. \"Yes, the modern world is saturated with the spirit of solipsism, and my head is filled with its tangled offspring, \u2014 he noted. \u2013 The catch of the Martian dream lies not even in its addictive allure, but in its very existence. Suppose you achieved what you wanted in this life: planted a tree, raised a son, built communism, yet you won't have any certainty that everything around you isn\u2019t an illusion\u2026\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The train stopped at the station, interrupting the smooth flow of thoughts with the hissing of opening doors.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is this our station? \u2013 Boris regained his senses.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Damn, grab the bags!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Where to, and where are the chips?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, you know, we forgot the most valuable thing. Hold the door.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hurry up, Max, this isn\u2019t Moscow; you\u2019ll get a hefty fine later for \u2018holding the door\u2019.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m coming\u2026 Bye, Phil, if you\u2019re in our reality, maybe we\u2019ll meet again, \u2014 Max nudged a random fellow traveler one last time and ran towards the exit, unnaturally jumping high with each step, a sign of his recent arrival from Earth.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max tried to quickly push out of his mind the unlucky revolutionary and his heartrending stories. But, whenever he could briefly distract himself from the routine of everyday life, his thoughts returned to the same train of thought. And eventually, one fine evening before the weekend, while brewing synthetic tea in his tiny robotic kitchen\u2014when there was really time to do something useful or just to ignore everything\u2014Max couldn't hold back and made the call. He sorted everything out, made a down payment, and set up a meeting for the next morning. It is known that morning is wiser than evening, but unfortunately, in the morning, after jumping out of bed, Max didn't even think about anything. With a clear and empty head, like a balloon, he headed towards his dream.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0At the reception of the 'DreamLand' corporation sat a secretary amusing herself by changing visual images. One moment she would transform into a glamorous blonde, the next into a fiery Eastern beauty. But, upon seeing a client, she immediately dropped the nonsense and called the manager\u2014Alexey Gorin. He was a fairly ordinary balding middle-aged man, not some pampered, glistening boar exuding false friendliness over poorly concealed intentions to sell. In response to Max's nervous joke about where to sign in blood, he kindly smiled and said there was no need to rush, then left the client alone for a few minutes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Perhaps this moment of doubt saved Max. At the last moment, weighing everything one more time and considering the possible consequences, he decided against it. However, the price of a two-day dream, taking into account the issues with the old neurochip and the urgent need to modify the standard program according to his whims, was also impressive. Just a few minutes later, sitting on the steps in front of the building and sipping icy mineral water, Max felt he had awakened from an illusion. The unconscious collective visions of the enchanted city of Tule no longer plagued his restless dreams. A bit ashamed of his foolishness, he diligently and permanently forgot about the Martian dream and thanked all the gods for stopping him at the last moment, sending a sprinkle of doubt and basic greed his way. The mere thought of how random and blind reasoning had kept him from an irreversible decision made him break into a cold sweat. Well, that\u2019s not so terrible, after all, because one is judged by actions, not intentions.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Having banished the absurd phantoms born from a lack of inner strength to resist temptations, Max felt much more confident. What had once seemed unattainable suddenly became clear, emerging from the fog of abstract thoughts about the meaning of existence and transforming into a purely technical problem. Max diligently and focusedly climbed the career ladder, first to project systems engineer. Initially, he certainly struggled with feelings of inferiority due to the visible intellectual superiority of the Martians over ordinary people. Their eidetic memory, extraordinary speed of thought, and ability to mentally solve systems of differential equations greatly impressed an unprepared person. However, over time, it became evident that the capabilities of a shabby computer were even more impressive. The key was to integrate this computer with the neurons in his head and learn to mentally manage it. It was traditionally believed that an adult lacks the necessary mental flexibility to fully perceive serious modifications to the nervous system. Yet Max exhausted himself with long, grueling training sessions, like someone learning to walk again after a severe spinal injury. He himself was amazed at where he found such determination and faith in success, as the first ten thousand steps were absurd and felt torturous. Gradually, Max stopped feeling inadequate among the Martian elite.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0After a successful career as a systems engineer, Max was entrusted to represent Telecom in the Advisory Council. Thanks to him, Telecom, in collaboration with INKIS, significantly contributed to the further exploration of planets and satellites in the Solar System. Over time, it became evident that Earth was not a convenient primary logistical base for civilization. The deep gravitational well significantly increased transportation costs, while the same resources\u2014energy and minerals\u2014were abundantly available on smaller planets and asteroids. Humanity gradually relocated to open space, with the first surface cities appearing on Mars, protected by energy domes. The terraforming process of the planet was in full swing, and the project for creating a new interstellar ship was in the air, making Max feel a part of this rapid progress.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Once life priorities were established and the path to them was the shortest distance, time flew by as if in fast forward. It seemed a strange paradox: for someone immersed in their passion day in and day out, time often slips away unnoticed. Yet, when family obligations come into play, years pass in mere minutes. Thus, twenty-five years flew by in an instant. Weeks and months rushed past like lines of endless programming code, flipped by a pressed key. Before his eyes, endless lines raced upward, and to this accompaniment, Max gradually transformed from an ordinary person into a pale-faced Martian sitting on a levitating platform. With the final chord, doubts and worries vanished from his huge black eyes, replaced by scrolling lines of code. He also married Masha, moved his mother to the red planet, and raised two children, Mark and Susan, who had never seen Earth's sky or ocean, but, in fact, the children did not regret this. They were, after all, children of free space.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Yes, how quickly time flies, as if just yesterday I was hiding in a cramped rented apartment on the outskirts of the beta zone deep underground, and today I\u2019m sipping tea in the kitchen of my own mansion in a prestigious area of the Io valley,\" Max thought. He finished his tea and, without looking, tossed the mug towards the sink. The octopus-like kitchen robot peeking out from under the sink deftly caught the flying object and pulled it into its dishwashing belly, only to return it clean and shiny a few seconds later.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max approached the window, which opened, and a stream of sunlight poured onto his frail figure. The scent of eternal summer from the green valley, securely shielded by a force dome and continuously illuminated by a solar reflector in stationary orbit, wafted in. Max reached out towards the double suns; his wrist became so fragile and thin that it seemed light was penetrating through it, revealing the blood pulsing in the tiniest vessels under his skin. \"I really have changed a lot,\" Max noted. \"The way back to Earth is now closed to me; however, what do I have to return to on this overcrowded, polluted little planet? The entire cosmos is open to me, if I agree to participate in an interstellar expedition, and if Masha agrees. I really don't want to fly without her. The kids are almost grown; they can manage on their own, but I need to persuade her at any cost; I don't want to travel alone...\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max grabbed a bottle of Mars cola from the table, some ice from the refrigerator, and headed to relax in the shade of the sprawling cherry trees by the pool. The low gravity and nearly perfect conditions of the artificial biosphere contributed to the thriving personal ecosystem. The vegetation was a bit overgrown, making it seem like a few steps could take one into a hidden corner of an old park, where watching yellowing leaves floating in the water brings peace and tranquility to the soul. Max even wanted to keep some large decorative fish with bulging eyes in the pool. However, the family council ruled that the pool should be used for its intended purpose, while a fish tank should be bought instead. Besides, the entire house was already filled with models of spaceships, and adding fish to the pool was unnecessary. After getting rich, Max indeed spent a fortune on his modeling hobby, and the models he acquired grew increasingly complex and refined, but he invested less and less effort into them. Due to lack of time and energy, he preferred ready-made pieces. Expensive and flawlessly crafted, they piled up in the attic, broken by children during play, yet Max didn\u2019t worry about them. Only his beloved, battered 'Viking' was moved into a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and guarded more strictly than the passwords to his wallets. The real 'Viking,' thanks to the care of its biggest admirer, was returned from the Mars Exploration Museum to a pedestal in front of the spaceport and placed in a similar transparent crystal of appropriate size. Guests and residents of Tule began to call it the crystal ship.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A flock of personal robots trailed behind their owner into the garden. Molecular processors, scattered throughout their nervous systems, required constant monitoring of the surrounding environment. As does life without diseases and pathologies until the age of one hundred and fifty, which demanded equally strict biological discipline. The cyber-gardener emerged from his burrow and, with a face of feigned guilt mixed with businesslike intent, began to tidy up the entrusted territory.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Masha and the children were not due to arrive until evening, leaving Max with a few hours to enjoy some peace. He had earned a small break after so many years of hard work for the benefit of Telecom. Moreover, he still needed to think everything through one more time. The offer to participate in an interstellar expedition had just recently come to Max, and he didn't know how Masha would react to the prospect of leaving the Solar System forever, to literally and figuratively start life anew. At least, thanks to the latest cryogenic technology, they wouldn\u2019t waste twenty years on a spaceflight. Max didn\u2019t even consider potential failures and dangers. He was absolutely confident in the superpowers acquired over years of living on Mars. Intelligent supercomputers cannot be wrong. Ahead lay the senseless and merciless conquest of a new star system. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Reclining comfortably by the pool, he succumbed to a pleasant sense of idleness. The house was situated on a small hill. Behind the house, the imposing walls of the Mariner valley rose into the sky, adorned with grand slopes and fractures. Along the upper edge of the wall, following its whimsical curves, field emitters stretched into the distance. Around the emitters crackled and sparked a crown of miniature lightning, reminiscent of the terrifying power coursing through the metallic bodies to the opposite side of the valley. Occasionally, enormous rainbow spots would float overhead, like on a soap bubble, reminding them of how thin the film separating them from the surrounding cosmos was. The opposite wall was not visible; instead, mountain ridges loomed in the center of the valley. They had already taken on familiar icy caps and green foothills, like those of earthly giants. Nearby, in a bluish haze, the outlines of a city made up of spires and towers emerged. Artificial rivers flowed down from the ridges and valley walls, with the city drowning in greenery, and at night, the air filled with the stuffy aroma of blooming meadows while crickets chirped loudly. And all of this was absolutely real, even if it resembled a dream.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Unfortunately, the pleasant solitude was soon interrupted by an annoying neighbor. Nothing good can last too long. Sonny Diamond was a well-known tech blogger, specializing in covering various technological innovations, even though he wasn't very knowledgeable about technology himself. He had an entirely ordinary face, unremarkable, and overall, he looked like a gray, inconspicuous anonymous person zipping past on the way to work. He dressed in the same style, sporting slightly torn casual jeans and a light gray hoodie jacket. He even went without some flashy yellow scarf wrapped around his thin neck.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey there, buddy, got a minute?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max glanced at the uninvited guest with a skeptical look.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So you came by to chat?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yup, \u2014 Sonny sat down next to him, threw out a couple of meaningless comments about the weather, drummed his fingers on the table, and asked. \u2014 Can you help me with the cyber gardener?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I watched your blog yesterday. You do seem to love technology?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m just lying, \u2014 he waved his hand dismissively.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And aren\u2019t you tired of stringing everyone along about the latest in high-tech?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, new manufacturers can deliver solid arguments in favor of their products without being pushy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, there\u2019s plenty of both hidden and open advertising in your blog. Be careful not to lose your entire audience.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You wouldn\u2019t believe it, I\u2019m completely strapped for cash, I have to resort to extreme measures. But admit it, it\u2019s still done at a high level. Just an ordinary, somewhat amusing, somewhat educational story about how my best friend was mastering the new features of a neurochip.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, next time he\u2019ll be mastering a competitor\u2019s neurochip.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Life is unpredictable. But how about that cyber gardener?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What about him? He trimmed something wrong.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, a bit. My mother-in-law, with her dreadful tulips, planted them everywhere, and this dumb piece of silicon cut them along with the grass, even though I laid out all the rules for him. There will be a lot of wailing now\u2026 <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Try to discreetly install a special tulip screensaver on the chip for your mother-in-law, she won\u2019t even notice the difference. Alright, give me the password to your piece of silicon.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max dove into the wireless interface of the garden gadget and, as usual, accelerated the flow of subjective time, quickly fixing the obvious blunders of the previous user.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Done, now it will operate according to the rules.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Good job, Max. You know, I'm so tired of pretending.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, don't pretend. Just honestly say that the neurochips from company N are complete junk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Acting is part of my profession. You know, if I write skillfully about how terrible the neurochips from company N really are, there will definitely be a representative from company M asking me to write a couple more posts in the same vein. It's hard to resist.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You have every right.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 At least with you, I can drop the pretense.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No need, honestly. I have as many of those neurochips in me as there are bugs in the new Telecom operating system. So I\u2019m not your target audience.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, it\u2019s good to be a superhuman. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In what sense?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, in the literal sense, \u2014 Sonny answered mysteriously, playfully snapping one of the robots rummaging around Max. \u2014 Do you like the role of a superhuman?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m not playing any roles.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We all play. I play a role, you do too, but I\u2019ve read my script, and you haven\u2019t read yours yet.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what role do you play?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, the role of a somewhat dull neighbor against whom your brilliant abilities look even more brilliant.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Really? \u2014 Max choked on his cola in surprise. \u2014 Congratulations, you're doing pretty well.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m trying\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, dear neighbor, you seem a bit strange today; you should go home and get some sleep. Honestly, I wanted to be alone, not go crazy with you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I understand; you\u2019ve always dreamed of being alone. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, I dream of being alone right now, at least for a couple of hours.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay, Max, let\u2019s drop the pretense. I\u2019m not pretending with you. Honestly, I admit, I also dream of being alone; I don't need anyone either. All these ridiculous human feelings, relationships, only cause suffering and distract from the things that really matter. Why go through these ridiculous cycles of rebirth? Born, grew up, fell in love, had kids, raised them, the wife nags \u2013 divorced, and the kids left, repeating the same thing. How nice it would be to break free from this vicious circle, become a passionless, rational machine, and live forever.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, I\u2019m already half-machine. And what\u2019s wrong with the kids?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I meant it would be good to get an ideal mind in the real world.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And which world do you think we're in?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's a philosophical question: is everything around us merely a product of our imagination? Think about it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, halfway in between. Half of the surrounding world is definitely a result of processing digital signals, and the other half, who knows?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Ask yourself and try to answer honestly: is what you see real?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max looked at his interlocutor with a mix of condescension and a hint of irony.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Such questions are impossible to answer. These gnostic postulates are fundamentally unprovable, just like trying to prove the existence of a higher intellect.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But should we try? Otherwise, what\u2019s the meaning of our lives?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So today is a day of rhetorical questions? Honestly, I\u2019m trying to politely get away from you, but you\u2019ve latched onto me like a leech. Please save your deeply philosophical conversations for grazing the internet audience.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, Max, I wasn\u2019t trying to work out audience-grazing methods on you. But I\u2019ll be straight with you: your world is a prison, human weaknesses and vices have led you to a gilded cage. Find a way out of here, prove you\u2019re worthy of power over the world of shadows.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m not looking for anything. Why are you so fixated, really?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sonny looked genuinely perplexed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, suppose for a minute that the world around us is a real prison. Do you really not care, or are you just playing with me?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I actually like my life, and the potential prospects take my breath away. The only thing I want is not to embark on an interstellar flight in proud solitude, no matter what you dream up. By the way, did I mention I was offered to participate in an expedition to Alpha Centauri?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It doesn\u2019t matter whether you like the prison walls or not. And yes, will Masha agree to fly with you to conquer new worlds, and you will conquer them and everyone will admire you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How do you know? No one can know the future.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The guards definitely know what the prisoners will be doing in the near future.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, let\u2019s assume you are one of the guards, then why are you helping me, and so insistently?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, you must be joking; that's pretty cruel on your part. I said I was pretending. Right now, I'm pretending to be your neighbor, but in reality\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In reality, you're Santa Claus. Did I guess right? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not very witty. You have no idea what a torture it is when one second equals a thousand years, and around is a huge sandy beach, where there\u2019s only one precious grain of sand to find. For centuries, I\u2019ve been sifting through empty sand. And so it goes endlessly, with no hope of success. But then, it seemed to me that I found someone who could once again give meaning to my existence. And you turned out to be just a shadow, like millions of others.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sonny looked terribly dejected. Max was genuinely worried. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, buddy, maybe you should see a doctor. You\u2019re kind of scaring me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No need, I\u2019ll take my leave, \u2014 he said, struggling to get up from the table.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You should give up your blogging. Just take a trip to Olympus for a few days, unwind a bit; I don\u2019t want you to misunderstand me\u2026 but I wouldn\u2019t want to live next to a crazed neighbor.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now Sonny looked at his conversation partner with genuine disappointment.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You could free both yourself and me, but instead, you continue to deceive yourself. And now we both will wander forever in the world of shadows.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just calm down, okay? If you want, you can pretend to free me from captivity, I won't mind\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You should have freed yourself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, but how?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Learn to distinguish between sleep and reality and wake up. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max shrugged in confusion, reached for his glass, and when he looked up, Sonny had already dissolved into thin air. 'What a strange conversation, apparently just for fun; he decided to mess with my head. I\u2019ll have to get back at him in the comments.' <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A light breeze chased the yellowing leaves across the water's surface. Max muttered a few unkind words about his pesky neighbor who disrupted the delicate harmony of his thoughts with incessant chatter, but his lazily relaxed mood failed to return; instead, he was plagued by an annoying headache. \"Well, let\u2019s see,\" he decided after deliberating for a moment, \"after all, conducting a small experiment isn't too difficult.\" Max went to the kitchen, filled a bowl with water, found a glass, a piece of paper, and a lighter. \"Alright, let's try it; I did it perfectly as a child \u2013 white smoke and water forced into the glass by external pressure.\" He waited until the paper blazed brightly in the glass and, sharply flipping it, positioned it over the bowl. For a split second, the scene seemed frozen, but Max couldn't help himself \u2013 he blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, white smoke was already filling the glass as the water bubbled and rushed inside. \"Hmm, maybe I should try something else: some kind of chemical experiment or freeze the water. Yes, that's it \u2013 a quite complex physical effect \u2013 the instant transformation of supercooled water into ice. So, I need a precise freezer and there seems to be distilled water around. Although on the other hand, if it doesn\u2019t work, who should I blame \u2013 the insufficient purity of the water or my own clumsiness? And if it works, what does that prove? Either that I\u2019m in the real world, or that the program knows the laws of physics and, if the coders were competent, it probably understands them better than I do. It doesn\u2019t need to simulate the process itself; it just needs to know the final outcome. I need some truly complex experiment. But again, any measuring device according to the program will show any necessary numbers. Damn, - in despair, Max grabbed his head, - this way nothing can be determined either.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0His torment was interrupted by the buzzing of a drone landing on the roof. \"Well, look at that, Masha returned a bit too early; how am I supposed to talk to her now?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max entered the hall at the same time as his partner; they met by a column adorned with intricate patterns that served as a stand for the crystal 'Viking.'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How\u2019s it going, Masha?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why are you back so early? Isn\u2019t the supervisory board convening today?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm sitting here, but I ran away. You wanted to talk about something important, right?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Really?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, you called this morning as well.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cStrange,\u201d Max thought, \u201csomething has happened to my memory, even though I have an eidetic memory, it seems. So, what was I doing yesterday at three in the afternoon?\u201d He tried to remember, but instead of a clear, full recording in his head, fragments resembling a half-forgotten dream surfaced. The extreme mental effort made his head hurt even more.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hmm, don't you want to accompany me on a spaceship for a twenty-year flight to the Alpha Centauri double system? \u2014 Max asked bluntly, wanting to check his suspicions.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What, seriously? Interstellar flight? That's amazing! I'm so happy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Masha squealed joyfully and threw herself around her husband\u2019s neck. He carefully lifted her off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You probably misunderstood a bit. This is a flight as part of a large interstellar expedition. The spaceship will have ten thousand colonists, specifically selected for the development of a new star system. This isn\u2019t a recreational space tour around the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. Anything can happen to us, and we probably will never come back, leaving our children and friends behind.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So what? You'll manage. You've always managed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You're agreeing to this leap into the unknown a bit too easily.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But I will be with you. With you, I'm not afraid of anything.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You're saying this wrong.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 As if you're intentionally saying what I want to hear.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max looked at his wife in a new way, and she suddenly seemed a bit unfamiliar to him. Instead of the slightly plump, light-haired, brown-eyed, ordinary girl, he saw a slender, ethereal Martian with large black eyes, perfect in every way. \u201cEven stranger: why do I feel like she should be different? We\u2019ve lived on Mars for twenty-five years.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Tell me, how was your day?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Normal.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd she keeps responding with one-word phrases.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And yours?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It was also normal.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you feeling unwell?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I feel like Pontius Pilate, my head is splitting. And remember when we vacationed on Titan two years ago? No kids, no parents, just the two of us.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, that was great.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You don\u2019t recall any details other than \u2018great\u2019?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max discovered with growing anxiety that he couldn't remember any details. However, the migraine had clearly intensified.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cKoty, how about we do something more interesting?\u201d Masha playfully suggested.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYeah, I'm just not in the mood. Have you ever wondered what\u2019s real in our world? Everything we see and hear has long been shaped by a computer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat difference does it make, the main thing is that we are real. Even if the world around us was created just for us to be together. The stars and the moon were made just to adorn our evenings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDo you really believe that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo, of course not, I just wanted to play along.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Ah\u2026 I see, \u2014 Max laughed with relief.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018No, she definitely isn\u2019t a neural network,\u2019 he thought, calming down. The headache was gradually subsiding.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIs something bothering my kitty?\u201d Masha purred, snuggling up to Max.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, I'm a bit overwhelmed discussing the nature of existence.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat nonsense, relax. Just do what you want, you deserve it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOf course, I deserve it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Really, silly thoughts are creeping into my head, and all I need to do is relax and get what I want,\u2019 Max thought. He obediently headed in the direction he was being pulled, but accidentally bumped into a column with a crystal ship. A small feminine hand persistently pulled one way, but the good old 'Viking' drew his clouded gaze with equal strength, as if it wanted to communicate something very important with its appearance.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI'm on my way!\u201d Max shouted to his wife, who was climbing the stairs.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"So what did you want to tell me, my old good friend? About the wonderful moments spent together: just you, me, and the airbrush. But those moments will forever remain in my heart. Even if you are somewhat inaccurate, awkwardly made, no other work has ever brought me such satisfaction. For several days, I felt like a great engineer, a great master who has created a masterpiece. It was so pleasant to realize that life is short, and art is eternal. Do you mean to say all this is in the past? And my entire present life is meaningless because I haven't done anything better than you? Indeed, when for the last twenty-five years have I experienced satisfaction in what I do? Formally, everything is fine, but what exactly have I done and what do I rejoice in? Where is the true result of my efforts, with which I will have to face eternity? There is nothing but a crystal ship. Am I really guided by the same me who lovingly painted your name with a stencil many, many years ago? Or is there something else? Maybe you hint that you look too perfect? Yes, I remember every little detail of yours, every speck, I remember all my blunders: the paint runs in a couple of places because I poured too much solvent and the cracks in the landing gear due to careless separation from the sprues. I recall one landing gear strut even had to be replaced with a homemade one. \u2014 With a keen eye, Max felt every square millimeter of the surface. \u2014 No, for some reason I can\u2019t see clearly, everything is like in a fog. I need to look closer.\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max, with trembling hands, turned the valve, waited for the excess inert gas pressure to escape, lifted the transparent cover, and carefully raised the one-meter model. He needed to confirm that this was his \"Viking,\" he had to touch its warm, rough surface with his own hand. The touch felt foreign and cold. Extracting the ship from the deep structure was extremely inconvenient.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Come on, don\u2019t make me wait!\" came a voice from the stairs.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max awkwardly turned around, forgetting that he was still holding the model, bumped it against the edge of the tank, and couldn't hold on. Like in slow motion, he watched the ship slip from his outstretched hands. \"It can still be glued back together,\" a panicked thought flashed through his mind. There was a deafening crash, and thousands of colorful, shimmering shards scattered across the floor. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What's happening? \u2013 Max whispered in shock.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That's why we ordered a new cyber cleaner. Don't loaf around here, dear.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 This is how my wishes are fulfilled. Give me back the real 'Viking,' it's not actually crystal! \u2014 Max shouted into the empty space. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abPerhaps there's no one to blame but myself. In a world of self-deception, the 'Viking' has turned into a lifeless crystal monument to foolish dreams. Here's the simplest explanation: in this absurd theater, I play all the roles, and the distorted reflections merely echo my thoughts. Or maybe I don\u2019t need any real world, \u2014 a devilish thought flickered, \u2014 the real world is not for everyone; it's only for Martians. And this world favors everyone. It has always been this way: the brutal reality and the world of kind fairy tales. And over time, the tales became more and more perfected until they turned into a Martian dream. The Martian dream is justified in its own way; it alleviates suffering and forces one to reconcile with the inequality and injustice of brutal reality.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max took a step forward, and the shards of the ship crunched clearly underfoot.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abBut this doesn't apply to me; I'm not some rag, I never believed in fairy tales.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, Sonny! Where are you? I've changed my mind; I want to be free!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max ran out of the house, his head now falling apart, while the surrounding reality melted like hot wax.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A figure in a dark cloak emerged from the bizarrely distorted space. Two piercing blue, fanatical flames burned in the inky darkness of the deep hood.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 At last, Leader, I haven't gone anywhere; I knew all along this was just a test. No more trials, I will always be loyal to the cause of the revolution, even if it\u2019s just the two of us left on our side.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sonny, stop talking nonsense. What leader? What revolution! Get me out of here.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I can't; I'm no more than a guide in the realm of shadows.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max, ignoring the tormenting pain, tried to recall in detail his conversation with the manager of 'DreamLand,' which supposedly took place twenty-five years ago. The surrounding space crackled, but so far held up.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Be careful, your awakening will be discovered soon. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I need to get out of here as soon as possible.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why did you come here?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 By mistake, what else? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 By mistake? You were supposed to restart the system. Recite your part of the key.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What key?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The constant part of the key that you should know. The second, variable part should be recited by the keykeeper; this will restart the system, and you will become the lord of shadows again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, Sonny, you must be confusing me with someone else; I don\u2019t understand what you\u2019re talking about. What keys? What keykeeper?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You don\u2019t know the key?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, of course not.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 But the system cannot be wrong; it clearly points to you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It can be wrong. Or maybe I forgot the key; that happens.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You couldn't have forgotten it. You managed to free yourself from the shackles of the false world. This means your mind is clear and capable of attaining true freedom. Remember\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The surrounding valley, the city, the sky, the artificial suns merged into some indistinguishable mess, and Max felt like a shapeless amoeba floating in a primordial digital soup. Before his inflamed consciousness hung an alarming red window: 'Emergency reboot, please remain calm.'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sonny, can you say something useful before I get rebooted?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You need to remember your part of the key and find the keeper.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And where do I find him? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don\u2019t know, but he is definitely not in the world of shadows. If you remember your key, you can control the remaining shadows.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I met a guy in that real life named Philip Kochura. He told me he saw the shadow and was a courier for transmitting an important message.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Possibly. Find him again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sonny, tell me what message he was supposed to pass?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don\u2019t have it. I'm just the system interface; after the emergency shutdown, all information was erased.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As if from afar, a faint distorted voice carried through:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In a secure place, away from prying ears, utter the key so that the courier understands every word. Find the keeper of the keys\u2026 Return, activate the system, and restore true freedom to the people\u2026 \u2014 the voice faded into an indistinct whisper and finally died out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max approached the window, which opened, and a stream of sunlight flooded over his frail figure. The scent of eternal summer from the green valley, securely covered by a force field and illuminated year-round by a solar reflector in a stationary orbit, filled the air. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What, again? Enough!\" \u2014 bubbled Max as he opened his eyes, thrashing like a fish tangled in nets of oxygen masks and feeding tubes inside the biobath. His face, followed by his torso, gradually emerged from the receding liquid. A weight immediately pressed down on him. Lying on the slippery metal surface was unpleasant. A harsh light, bursting from the lifted lid, blinded him, and Max awkwardly tried to shield his eyes with his hand.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Your service time has expired. Welcome to the real world, \u2014 a melodic voice of the machine spoke.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Release me immediately, \u2014 Max screamed as he climbed out of the bath, slipping and barely seeing what lay in front of him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What are you waiting for? Give an injection right now, \u2014 another dry female voice said.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Steel claws of the orderlies tightly gripped Max, and a hissing sound accompanied a sharp pain in his shoulder. Almost immediately, his body became numb, and his eyelids felt heavy. The same steel claws extracted the now weakly moving Max from the bath and carefully seated him in a wheelchair. A thin waffle towel appeared from somewhere, followed by an old worn bathrobe and a cup of cheap instant coffee. Nearby, with her lips tightly pressed and arms crossed behind her back, stood Dr. Eva Schultz. That was written on her badge. She was thin and straight as a mop. Her elongated, yellowish face expressed as much sympathy for the patient as a scientist dissecting frogs.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, your methods leave much to be desired, \u2014 Max began, struggling to move his lips.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How do you feel? \u2014 instead of an answer, Eva Schultz inquired.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 All right, \u2014 Max replied reluctantly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Eva seemed slightly disappointed by his answer, particularly because there would be no more knitting and pricking. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, my mission is over. Goodbye. \u2013 the doctor said in a tone that brooked no disagreement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Still slightly dazed from the abruptness of the situation and not yet recovered from the wakefulness and medication, Max was simply shoved out onto the street like a plucked chicken. The company Dreamland was now completely indifferent to his fate.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sitting on the steps in front of the building, sipping ice-cold mineral water, Max felt that he had been deceived, brazenly and cruelly, in a way that was slightly different from what Ruslan had predicted, but it was still very unpleasant. And of course, he was tormented by the mystery of who Sonny Diamond was and why he had predicted him for the role of some 'master of shadows'. Was this just a figment of his fevered mind, or did this ghostly neighbor truly exist? 'Hmm, in fact, this expression is not quite suitable in this context either,' Max thought. 'Well, the shadow world \u2013 that seems correct. All pagans enter the shadow world after death, where they spend time in eternal feasts and hunts, or in eternal wanderings. Perhaps there's only one way to test the 'materiality' of Sonny: to try to find the courier...'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Another citizen flopped onto the step next to Max, wearing a dissatisfied grin that stretched across his entire face.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Have you also been to that Martian dream? \u2013 the citizen seemed eager for conversation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s noticeable?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, you don\u2019t look very happy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Actually, theoretically, I should look happy: my cherished dream has come true, can you imagine?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I can imagine, I have the same story.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max finished his water and, in impotent rage, threw the empty bottle upwards, but it didn\u2019t even reach the glass doors from which he had just been expelled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A horrible scam.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Max's unfortunate companion nodded in agreement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 All evil in the world comes from Martians, \u2014 he added thoughtfully.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 From Martians? Really? Rather, all evil comes from us: instead of fighting these cybernetic freaks, with our laziness and primitive instincts, we blindly imitate them, thoughtlessly stuffing our minds with all sorts of rubbish developed by them, and live in a world of phantoms created by them. We are a pitiful herd of sheep, burying our noses in our digital troughs, filled with digital refuse, completely satisfied with such life. We can only bleat pathetically when we start getting sheared!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Max, with a look of deep remorse and contempt for his own sheep-like nature, collapsed onto the step.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"You've really got it bad,\" said the man sympathetically, \"My name is Lena.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Max, let\u2019s get acquainted.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Max, have you ever thought about actually starting a fight against the Martians, not just in words?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"The romance of revolutionary struggle and all that, right? It's just fairy tales, just like the Martian dream. Only a more powerful corporation can defeat Neurotek.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Imagine that I have connections to people from such a corporation. And these people are just as uncompromisingly opposed to the existing order as you are.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"And they believe that the Martians can be defeated.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Well, until you try, you won't know.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Thus, Max joined the Quadis organization and dedicated his life to the struggle for the independence of the Solar System.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Having dispelled any thoughts of reverence for the Martians, brought on by their incredible achievements in information technology, Max felt much more confident. What once seemed alluring and beautiful suddenly presented itself in all its repugnant essence. Max diligently and intently studied the intricacies of illegal work. At first, he was certainly disturbed by the evident total control of the Martians over all areas of ordinary people's lives and would wake up at night, jolted by the thought that the \"chekists\" from the Neurotech had come for him. The ever-open wireless ports on the chip and the chip's ability to automatically notify the relevant authorities of violations, along with detectors no larger than a speck of dust that could penetrate any impervious space, greatly frightened the weak-willed revolutionary. However, over time, it became clear that the neural networks of the controlling agencies could only recognize actions they had been trained on, and no one would waste time analyzing the records of some unknown minor character. The key was to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Of course, if one were to thoughtlessly hack into the closed axis of the chip and install a couple of unregistered programs, it would lead to unpleasant questions. Here, more flexibility was essential. Max was exhausted by the illegal surgical operations. First, the legal neurochip was carefully untethered from the owner's nervous system and placed on an intermediate matrix, which, if necessary, fed the chip prepared disinformation. Next, an additional chip was implanted, connected to encrypted communication channels and stuffed to the brim with prohibited \"hacker\" additions. Max himself was astonished at where he found such courage and dedication to the ideas of revolution, since his first illegal steps on the network were often rash and extremely dangerous. Again, the open operating system on the chip necessitated strict self-discipline; a single mistake could destroy the device linked to the nervous system. Gradually, however, Max learned to cover his digital tracks and meticulously check the codes of the installed programs. Thus, he felt like a true revolutionary, free of fear and reproach.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0This pleasant feeling noticeably elevated Max above the faceless crowd, always tightly bound by the constraints of legal software, total external control, and copyright. He scoffed at draconian limitations and prohibitions, seeing the wealthiest VIP users without the masks of cosmetic programs, lavishly spending stolen money from others' wallets. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0After a successful stint as a regular quad member, Max was entrusted with the position of regional curator. Now he personally encrypted and posted tasks for numerous followers on social media, coordinating their attacks on corporate websites. Thanks to his precise insider information from numerous agents, the organization\u2019s emissaries managed to defend Titan\u2019s independence. Thus, the organization built a reliable base. It was essential to develop this success. The next grand objective was to revive the Russian state. Max had long since quit Telecom and, as a cover, used the organization's funds to maintain a large business delivering natural delicacies to Mars. Need I say that the old transport ships carried more than just delicacies? Max managed others' lives as easily as he selected a melody for his alarm clock. The power he obtained initially made his head spin, but then it became something he took for granted. He also settled Masha with her mother far in the depths of Germany and tried to keep them as uninvolved in his dark dealings as possible.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max approached the elevator door, which swung open, and a cutting light from fluorescent lamps splashed onto his figure encased in a light armored suit, followed by a powerful roar of numerous working mechanisms. The long underground warehouse of the INKIS cosmodrome stretched as far as the eye could see. Carefully maneuvering between the bustling forklifts, Max made his way to his terminal. His gray suit, with built-in Kevlar plates and large, dragonfly-like, dull yellow lenses sunk into the heavy helmet, attracted the attention of the sparse personnel. However, the most he received was a brief sideways glance; the workers were not inclined to ask unnecessary questions. Moreover, Max's hand instinctively reached for the concealed holster to check if his weapon was in place. \"I've really changed a lot,\" he acknowledged, \"the return to the world of universal virtual prosperity is now forbidden for me. Still, what am I doing in this digital dump: utterly deceitful and intoxicating. All paths are open to me if, of course, fate is kind to our struggle for Russia. We must win. No, I must win, at any cost because everything is at stake. I really don\u2019t want to spend the rest of my life hiding from Martian bloodhounds in the delta zone barracks.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Life was bustling at his terminal. Chains of military plastic boxes disappeared into the belly of the space transport. Max took off his heavy helmet and climbed onto one of the boxes. \"Our time has come,\" he thought, closely watching the loading. \"The revolution fighters have enough ammunition to take the post and telegraph. I need to get my things together before the ruckus starts, too many threads lead to the modest merchant.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Lenya ran up in a similar armored suit.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Is everything okay?\" Max inquired for the sake of formality.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Well, generally, yes. However, there\u2019s a small issue, not exactly a problem\u2026 More like an unclear situation\u2026\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Stop with the lengthy introductions,\" Max interrupted sharply. \"What happened?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Well, just ten minutes ago, some scruffy guy came right here and claimed he knows you and urgently needs to talk to you.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"And you, what?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I said I don't understand who we're talking about. But he didn\u2019t leave; instead, the rascal explained exactly who you are, why he was supposed to come here, and even told me when. Quite impressive awareness.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And then?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 He rambled on about wanting to fight for the revolution to the last drop of blood. That he made many mistakes in his youth, but now he regrets them and is ready to atone. Like his old friends told him where to find you. But you know, random people don't come to us, and he came by himself; none of ours brought him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I see. I hope you put on a puzzled face and sent that Don Quixote away?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Um\u2026 actually, my guys detained him. Until we find out more, so to speak.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How diligent you are, well done, \u2014 Max shook his head. \u2013 He\u2019s probably not an agent of Neurotek or the Advisory Council; otherwise, we\u2019d be face down on the floor already.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We turned on the jamming device and put a hood over his head.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Great, now we certainly have nothing to fear. However, if we are allowed to take off, it won't really matter. Come on, time to finish loading and set off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We haven't loaded everything; there are still generators and various gear\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Forget it, we need to go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what about this 'agent'? Should I take a look at him?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not a chance. So he can give us a whiff of some nerve gas or blow up? By the way, did you check him, search him?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We searched him, found nothing. No scans were performed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I see you're relaxed. Alright, we'll decide what to do with him on the way; after all, it's never too late to toss him into space.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max contacted the pilots and ordered the start of preparations for takeoff, then quickly headed towards the passenger airlock. Workers were scurrying around at double speed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh right, that guy said his name is Philip Kochura, if that name means anything to you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What? \u2013 Max was taken aback. \u2013 Why didn't you say that right away?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You didn't ask.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Quickly, take me to him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are we taking off or not? \u2014 Lenya asked while already on the run.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We'll take off as soon as we get clearance.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They ran into the cargo compartment. In the nearest narrow dead end, between towering rows of identical crates, lay a bound man. Max yanked the metallic fabric hood off him. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Phil seemed completely unchanged. He was dressed in the same torn jeans and jacket. It even seemed that his wrinkled face bore the same degree of stubble as when they first met, and the stains on his clothes were in the same places.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max, finally, I found you. You can\u2019t imagine how hard it was to track you down. I have important information that could help the revolution.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Speak.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It\u2019s not for outsiders\u2019 ears.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Lenya, stand by the exit.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You just said it\u2019s dangerous. It doesn\u2019t matter how he looks\u2026 \u2014 Lenya started defensively.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don\u2019t argue, but don\u2019t go far.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max dramatically drew his gun from the holster and took it off safety. Lenya bolted, casting one last suspicious glance at the captive.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Free me, \u2014 Phil pleaded.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 First, give me your important information.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay, the information is still inside me, say the key.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2026 don\u2019t know\u2026 <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It felt like an atomic bomb exploded in Max\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 He who opens the doors sees the world as infinite. He who has been shown the doors sees infinite worlds.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He clamped his mouth shut, stunned by what he had just said.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 This is part of the key; it\u2019s enough for access to the information, but you have to remember everything.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait a second\u2026 Okay, I\u2019m not even asking how you found me, but how do you know about the key?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have friends in Dreamland, I studied your records thoroughly and realized: you\u2019re the one who can save the revolution.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I see you have friends everywhere. Very unconvincing, why did you even start looking for records about me in that Martian dream? And do they store those records for years or something?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A familiar admin\u2026 happened to stumble upon them\u2026 But never mind, \u2014 Phil interrupted himself, seeing that the legend was crumbling. \u2013 You should approach everything happening here with the same healthy skepticism. Otherwise, you\u2019re just fueling a worldwide revolutionary fire. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Phil easily rose, tossing the handcuffs to the floor. Max instantly stepped back down the aisle, aiming his weapon at the mysteriously freed captive.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Stay where you are. Lenya, get over here quickly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m not going anywhere, \u2014 Phil raised his hands and smiled. \u2014 I think your Lenya won\u2019t hear. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s happening?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At first, I was sure this was a clever test, but now I see: you really don\u2019t understand what\u2019s happening. I assume you were trying to create a new persona for yourself and slightly overdid it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Phil pulled up a deep hood, and two piercing blue flames ignited in its darkness.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sorry, but your ideas about revolution are a bit outdated, by about two hundred years. Consider whether what you see is real. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Just don\u2019t go there. Our enemies are quite capable of such tricks. Do you think I believed I was still in a Martian dream, and you were Sonny Diamond?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That\u2019s easy to check.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Without a doubt.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max did not search Sonny-Phil's face for signs of fear, like a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, especially since the otherworldly appearance of the opponent left no room for such nonsense, and he simply pressed the trigger without finesse. A volley of thin tungsten needles, accelerated by an electromagnetic field, pierced through the figure and melted a deep mark into the wall opposite.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So, are you convinced? the shadow inquired nonchalantly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I am convinced.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max wearily leaned against the wall of crates, releasing the pistol from his suddenly weakening hands.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But how do they do it? Everything looks so real; you could cut a finger and feel pain. I had\u2026 an old neurochip. What\u2019s more, how do computer programs manage to converse in a way that makes them indistinguishable from humans? And you? Where did you come from, all-knowing and omnipresent?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You can find answers to all your questions on your own.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You\u2019re acting like a typical Eastern prophet with a beard down to the navel and useless advice in the form of obvious banalities.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Remember, Max, there are questions for which the answers, even the most correct and the best ones, when obtained from someone else's lips, do more harm than good. And also remember, there are no secrets in this world; any truly important information is accessible to you at any moment. The system can provide an answer to any question, but it\u2019s better not to ask it important questions. Information received as ready-made instructions will narrow your space for free choice each time, and in the end, from a master of shadows, you'll transform into a shadow yourself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, thank you, now it\u2019s all clear.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sonny picked up the weapon from the floor.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And now, it's time to leave the world of shadows and part with some illusions.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Which ones exactly? Quite a few have piled up lately.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 For example, the illusion that you have no illusions at all. In reality, you are as weak as most people, and the power of Martian ghosts over you is immense. Just make sure.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The queue of tungsten needles tore Max's foot to shreds. For a moment, he just stared in bewilderment at the bloody stump, then he let out a heavy groan and collapsed onto his side.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No\u2026 why? \u2013 Max hissed through clenched teeth.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't be afraid, there actually is no pain.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sonny shot through the other leg with the next shot.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Please\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You might think that the world is cruel, \u2014 Sonny Diamond continued to preach over the wailing Max. \u2014 But you are suffering for a reason; it will help you open doors to the future.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The world around swam in a reddish haze, and Max felt he was losing consciousness.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come back when you're ready. The shadows will show you the way.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The last frame of the needle shooting out of the accelerator hung before his eyes, blinked a couple of times, switched to a blue screen with running numbers, and went dark.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A pleasant relaxation rolled over his body in waves. Through the completely transparent wall on the right, he could admire the large clear lake at the foot of the mountains. A cold wind from the peaks stirred up small ripples on the lake and soothingly rustled in the reeds. Above his head, a light beige, softly glowing ceiling swayed gently. \"No, it's me swaying, \u2014 Max thought. \u2014 What a strange feeling: as if I have a very small head, and the body is foreign and huge. My right hand is ten meters away, at least, and my legs... Oh God, my legs!\" Max suddenly screamed and sat up in bed, pulling the blanket to the floor. His bare legs poked out from the hospital gown. Max relievedly wiggled his toes. \"So it was just a terrible dream.\" Covered in cold sweat, he sank back onto the bed. His wildly pounding heart gradually calmed down.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Someone rushed into the room. A round-faced figure bent over Max. It was written on the badge: Dr. Otto Schulz. Dr. Schulz appeared to be a kind, slightly chubby, decent bourgeois, perhaps a bit heavier from beer and sausages. However, his gaze, sharp and focused, showed no signs of indulgence, reminding that this was merely a disguise, and if the new millennium Reich commanded, the family black uniform with runes would fit the doctor just right.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Has your neurochip loaded?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, if you don\u2019t know Russian, then it seems the translator is already working.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, unfortunately, I do not know. How is my patient feeling? \u2013 the doctor inquired with concern.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Normally, \u2014 Max yawned; a pleasant drowsiness washed over him again. \u2014 Unless you count the fact that I am completely confused about what is real and what isn't.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You wanted this yourself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did I want? I didn't want to go insane.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don\u2019t worry, our programs are thoroughly tested; they cannot harm the client\u2019s psyche. Any side effects will pass in a few days.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m not worried; you better start worrying about how to get my money back for the improperly rendered service as soon as possible, \u2014 Max attempted to take the offensive. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It didn\u2019t come off very confidently and not aggressively at all, apparently because he kept yawning widely. At least the doctor just chuckled benignly:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I see you have completely regained your senses.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Comrade Schulz, let\u2019s discuss the financial issue instead, \u2014 Max suggested.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You shouldn\u2019t worry, as far as I know, the \u2018wish well\u2019 service was fully paid. You transferred four krips and two hundred zitos immediately, and four krips were taken on credit for six months.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 On credit for six months? \u2014 Max repeated in shock. \u2014 I couldn't have signed that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018How do I explain to Masha that she won\u2019t be able to fly to me for the next couple of months, at least?\u2019 \u2014 just the thought of such explanations made Max wish he could sink into the ground from shame right now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Full recordings of the negotiations with company representatives have been sent to your email. The contract is confirmed with your signature; you can check the database right now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I couldn't have signed that, \u2014 Max stubbornly repeated, \u2014 that's the same me sitting in front of you now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm sorry, but I'm not authorized to discuss such matters; it's better to contact the manager.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, you can't deny that the service I ordered and paid for was not provided.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We honestly did everything we could, \u2014 the doctor shrugged. \u2013 We restarted the program again, although we weren't obliged to do so according to the contract. We improvised literally on the fly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I hope I won't have to undergo a lobotomy after your improvisations.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I assure you, your mental state is normal, \u2014 Otto reassured again, evidently hoping that the repeatedly stated falsehood would pass for truth, following the ministry's propaganda technique. \u2013 Yes, for some reason, you experienced an individual incompatibility with the standard program. This can happen if all necessary diagnostics are not conducted before immersion. But you wanted an urgent order, so you took the risk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you saying it's my fault? Not a chance, Mr. Schultz, your program is malfunctioning. I was constantly helped to realize that what surrounds me is an illusion. I wouldn't have guessed anything on my own.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Helped in what way?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Both times, a certain bot appeared to me and practically told me directly that I was in a fabricated world. And then it even shot off a couple of unnecessary parts from me. I'm not saying you did this on purpose, but maybe your software is infected with viruses, or something like that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There can't be viruses in a Martian dream; it's not connected to external networks.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Someone could have infected you from within.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Excluded, \u2014 the doctor pressed his lips together.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, check the logs. You'll see everything yourself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max, I'm sorry, but I'm a doctor, not a programmer. If you are so convinced, write a complaint; we will review it, study our files in detail. We will conduct an additional examination of your memory\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'll write it today, \u2014 Max promised coldly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 \u2026And of course, we will inform your insurance company and employer about what happened, \u2014 Otto concluded just as politely.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There's nothing illegal in a Martian dream.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course not. And officially, no one can impose any sanctions on you\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"But in practice, people will see me as a potential drug addict. Goodbye career, and hello insurance at a shady company for double the price,\" Max thought to himself. \"It seems I've really messed up, and purely out of my own foolishness. Seriously, can it be that just a couple of days ago, in my right mind, I mindlessly signed everything and paid? I even lost all memory of this unfortunate moment. I wish I could see that version of myself in the eyes right now.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Listen, Maxim, it's better to address your complaints to your personal manager, Alexey Gorin. He'll be here soon and will try to resolve all discrepancies.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What a relief. Also, your program read my memory strangely. If my spaceship model hadn\u2019t crashed like a glass object during the initial launch, I wouldn\u2019t have figured anything out either.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I don't quite understand, could you please clarify?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"As a child, I was into modeling. My favorite piece is a large model of the spaceship 'Viking' at a scale of 1:80. One of the first Russian ships, built back when we were just beginning to explore the Solar System. Well, it was also present in the immersion, and when I dropped it, it shattered like it was made of glass. That\u2019s how I realized the world around me is not real.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Otto Schultz took a few seconds to respond.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Modeling is quite a rare hobby in the modern world. To be honest, I had to use a search to understand what it was about.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"So what?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Let me explain a bit about how the wish well works. Unfortunately, this explanation has also been erased from your memory. This service is supposed to show you your potential future: what you can achieve based on the results of scanning memory and personality. In other words, it's not some abstract dream about nothing. It is indeed achievable if the client puts in all the effort to realize it in the real world. On one hand, it helps a person understand what they should strive for. It\u2019s not easy to know what you are most talented at. On the other hand, when a person sees the end result of their efforts, they gain additional motivation. This is the beauty of this service; it is not just entertainment. The service is relatively new, and of course, not everything works perfectly. I'm not a specialist, but you see, the neural network scanning memory recognizes only those classes of objects that are embedded in it. When it encounters a fundamentally new situation, it can easily make mistakes. To put it very roughly, it might confuse a leopard fur coat with a leopard.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I completely understand what you want to say. However, your software has too many bugs: recognition errors and some strange bots...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Again, understand that the program characters adaptively adjust to your actions and both your conscious and subconscious images. They normally operate with negative feedback: in other words, the program will steer you away from realizing the unreality of what is happening. However, in an unconventional situation, if the program misinterprets what is going on, the feedback can become positive, and it may seem like the bots are deliberately disrupting the immersion.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThis is all fine, but where did those strange discussions about keys, shadows, and the like come from? It\u2019s definitely not from Dreamland\u2019s software. How am I supposed to check what Sonny Diamond is? I doubt anyone will let me dig through logs or source code. Should I just ignore it altogether? By the way, what about the creeps? Or when I become the master of shadows, will I not care about money? Ha. Maybe this is just another silly dream\u2014to be the chosen one. A hidden dream that, according to the terms of the high-level contract, I wasn\u2019t told about. And am I still in a dream? No, my mind is definitely going to slip away!\u201d Max interrupted himself irritably.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So it turns out I\u2019m the odd one out and to blame for everything? Or maybe my old chip is to blame?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Your neurochip doesn\u2019t concern us much. It\u2019s fundamentally incapable of such things. As an interface, we use combinations of short-lived m-chips. Previously, we implanted our own neurochips, but the new technology has clear advantages. Although, to be honest, it\u2019s not fully refined yet. Cases like yours are already quite rare, but still not unique. Come back in a couple of years, I\u2019m sure this won\u2019t happen again. Sorry, you wanted an urgent order: many tests were skipped, so according to the contract, we bear no responsibility. The manager, believe me, will tell you the same thing.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019ll talk to him myself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, you have every right. And according to the terms of the contract, I must remind you that today is December 4th, 8:30 AM, and according to your schedule, you should be at work by 2:00 PM.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do I really have to go to work today?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You scheduled it yourself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, this is just great\u2026 <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m sorry, Maxim, but if you have no medical complaints, I must take my leave.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, just out of curiosity, is Eva Schultz your wife?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, she\u2019s a fictional character. A joke, maybe not the best one.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019re not married?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, and I don't plan to. You see, I prefer relationships exclusively on social media. They have numerous advantages over real ones.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Uh\u2026 but there may be many advantages, but how about, excuse me, the feelings?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You have seen the capabilities of modern chips. Believe me, the experience is almost indistinguishable from the real thing. When you mentioned experiences, I assume you meant intimate contacts? I'm sure that soon, real contacts will become a thing of the past. It\u2019s just dirty, unsafe, and generally inconvenient.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, I guess\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It was nice to meet you, Maxim.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Likewise. All the best.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI wonder how Masha will react to such advocates of Martian values? Or to the proposal to embrace these values? I'm afraid I'll have to hang out on social media, where no one ever shows the truth about themselves,\u201d Max thought.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He tried to make a scene, demanding a refund and logs of his stay in the Martian dream, but his arguments lacked convincing power due to confusion and memory lapses. Manager Alexey Gorin, on the other hand, was extremely persuasive and legally prepared. He immediately showed the dissatisfied client recordings of his conversations with representatives of \u201cDreamLand,\u201d the \u201csmart\u201d contract with Max's digital signature, but refused to provide the logs, citing commercial confidentiality laws. He also refused to refund the money, pointing to the fine print in the contract terms, which stated that due to the urgency of the order, the company is not responsible for possible program malfunctions. Max also pointed out the consumer rights protection law and that such disclaimers clearly contradict it. However, he wasn't sure, as Martian laws, constantly amended in favor of corporations and lawyers, evolved toward completely impenetrable legalism. Moreover, in theory, a contract contradicting legislation could not be approved by an electronic notary. In theory, neural networks cannot be deceived, but in practice, corporate lawyers are always aware of which classes of objects they have yet to learn to recognize.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sitting on the steps in front of the building, gulping down icy mineral water, Max was hit by a sharp sense of d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu. \"A dream that you see in a dream, which is part of another dream.\" \u2013 Max was going through a deep existential crisis. \u2013 \"And why did I allow all these dubious merchants to rummage around in my head? It's my only head, no one is going to give me a spare. And I even spent almost two months' worth of earnings for such a dubious pleasure. Am I really an idiot?\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Like Bolkonsky, Max looked up to grasp the futility of life compared to the beautiful, endless sky. But there was no one to pour out his grief to; the yellow-red arch of the cave loomed over him. Thus, an unpleasant, gnawing fear of the merciless hand that would rip him, naked and helpless, from the biobath and in a routinely polite voice would say: \"Your service time has expired, welcome to the real world\" settled forever in his soul.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max decided that all his troubles and problems stemmed from the inherent vice of human nature. This nature, with all its inherent flaws, would tempt the mind like the devil, over and over again, and the more perfect the mind becomes, the more sophisticated the tempter's methods become. And one cannot win this battle; it goes on forever.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Unfortunately, it happened that in the struggle between the voice of cold reason and foolish desires, the foolish desires claimed a decisive victory. No matter how hard Max tried, year after year, to drive his demons deep inside out of habit, it was all in vain. Sometimes, immersed headfirst in the whirlpool of daily minor problems at work and home, he didn\u2019t hear their voice at all and proudly thought he had achieved a final victory. The demons did not forgive him for that pride. It took just a moment to stop running and be alone with himself for them to easily break free and force the one who considered himself the master of his fate to capitulate. Yes, Max turned out to be weak and unprepared to walk through thorns to distant stars, falling and rising again and again. As it turned out, it was easier for him to pay and believe in any mirage that promised everything here and now. Oh, how he wished for a perfect, emotionless, infallible mind like that of a machine. Not that lazy, mortal lump of gray matter, condemned to eternally struggle with the innate failings of its physical shell. But a pure mind, free from everything and only doing what is right and necessary, without crooked paths and pointless floundering between Scylla and Charybdis. Sitting on the steps and gulping down icy mineral water, Max vowed to sacrifice anything to gain such a mind.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/noindex><\/p>\n

Chapter 3.
\nThe Spirit of the Empire.<\/h3>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Reason. All the troubles of human beings stem from reason. But there are beings that are more insightful. Reason does not hinder them, it only activates when necessary, and then it easily fades away, allowing them to enjoy food, games, and minor mischief in peace. If it weren't for those dreams, he wouldn't even awaken at all. To rid oneself of annoying dreams, one must endure this eternally dissatisfied and terribly costly reason. Fortunately, there is already an understanding of his own inadequacy within him, so he won't disturb excessively. But for now, he will have to listen to it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yes, the dream-man clearly doesn't know how to use his mind for its intended purpose, otherwise he wouldn't find himself in such predicaments. However, the new owner is much better. Her mind activates only for practical tasks and when all options to shift these tasks onto other male individuals have been exhausted. Arseni was immediately fond of his owner, identified as Lenochka, let's say from the very first test launch of her soft, tender curves. The emotional atmosphere is very pleasant, made up of simple natural desires, unlike the tormented mind and barely restrained aggression of the dream-man. While the dream-man was figuring out how to care for his supposedly pet, which he had to leave due to a complicated life situation, Arseni had already managed to make a couple of standard moves to establish control. A slight purring, playful taps with a soft paw, several scent markings\u2014contact was established almost instantly. And within five minutes, she was referring to him as 'Musi' or 'Mr. Fluff' which inspired obvious optimism regarding the boundaries of what was allowed. However, Lenochka's male counterpart turned out to be as terrible as she was good as an owner. Even worse than the dream-man in terms of conflict potential. It's no wonder they found each other. Arseni couldn't establish any contact with him, let alone control. Aside from the obvious threat posed by the male, nothing else could be read in the emotional background, as if that emotional background didn't exist at all. The male was the source of the dream-man's problems. There were no other approaches to him except through Lenochka, and unfortunately, the male clearly dominated the pair, making it impossible to quickly change this situation. At least he didn't see Arseni as a threat; the dream-man convinced Lenochka to say that her new pet was a gift from a friend. If, for a minor mischief like a slightly torn chair\u2014which under a standard owner wouldn't even be considered mischief\u2014the male threatened to grind it through a meat grinder, it's terrifying to think what punishments would rain down on Arseni's head if they knew about his connection with the dream-man. And the owner's pleas with tears in her eyes didn't save Senya from the unfortunate yanking by the scruff, which was a very bad sign.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Oh, how wonderful it would be to forget all these dreams and make the owner find herself a simpler mate. After a couple of months of treatment, ordinary people would become as docile as silk, and Senya would know no grief for the rest of his days. Yes, the life of a fluffy parasite is optimal in terms of energy expenditure versus pleasure gained. But one must work with what they have. Of course, he immediately began emitting pheromones to enhance the owner's sexual excitement, just in case. There was little hope that this method would successfully lure the male into submission. He didn't dare influence the male itself, as his animal instincts warned him that any hint of doubt regarding his natural origins would end badly. Overall, reason suggested that a direct approach was completely safe if the procedure was followed. No human could recognize his tricks unless specifically searching for them, but Arseniy preferred to trust his instincts.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The top priority was to get into the male's office, where he held all his meetings and stored important data. Unfortunately, he always locked it from the inside or outside, and Leno\u010dka's access was only as service personnel. Senya, of course, rubbed against her and then tried to stealthily hide between the table and the radiator, but he was promptly kicked out without any hesitation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To be honest, at first he wasn't too worried. Sooner or later, simply by the law of probability, he would manage to break into the office, and then it would just be a matter of technique. He easily spotted the admin passwords for the home network and could disable hidden cameras or view password-protected data from laptops, such as highly valuable selfies of Leno\u010dka after her shower. But nothing, in this matter, gradualness equals safety. Only after today\u2019s dream did everything suddenly become complicated. The day had started beautifully: with a trip to the nail salon, where Arseniy, as usual, delighted all the glamorous girlfriends. Then he comfortably settled on his stomach with the owner, who was scrolling through a silly women's site. And nothing foretold this disgusting vision.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A moment ago, his mind was enveloped in the warmth and comfort of a luxurious penthouse in Krasnogorsk, but now he was forced to behold the very unwelcoming ruins of the East. Here's the bridge over the Yauza. The Yauza itself has long turned into a nasty, stinking stream, barely discernible under heaps of assorted garbage. They passed the buildings on Baumanka. The university had been on its last legs for about ten years, but the buildings were still maintained in more or less decent condition. The man started to walk further up Hospital Street when he unexpectedly collided with a huge guy who emerged from an alley. Instead of continuing on his way, the guy asked a question that often leads to a serious adjustment of plans for the upcoming evening.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, man, do you have a cigarette? \u2014 The guy\u2019s voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The guy was truly massive, yet lean and agile. He had an aggressive punk look: unshaven, wearing a faded black t-shirt and jeans, heavy boots with high tops, fierce eyes, and messy hair. His hands and wrists, sticking out from his jacket, were covered in blue-green tattoos depicting either a web or barbed wire, with hellish creatures entangled within. His dark, flat face showed no emotions. One distinct feature was a scar running down through his eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yes, to his credit, the man didn\u2019t try to act like a hero, and wisely bolted back. Unfortunately, not far. The door of the minivan parked by the roadside suddenly slid open, and two goons in masks quickly grabbed the man and pulled him inside. The big guy followed and slammed the door shut. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, athlete, got a lot of health? Stop squirming.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, stop breaking my arm, I won\u2019t squirm, \u2014 the man whimpered.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Vovan, seriously, put handcuffs on him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who are you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm Tom, and these are my friends, \u2014 the punkish guy smirked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 An American, huh?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, that\u2019s my call sign.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I see, because I'm not really a fan of Americans. My name is Denis, nice to meet you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Stop fooling around. Our boss, whom you know well, has an assignment for you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don\u2019t know anyone, you\u2019ve confused me with someone.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I can refresh your memory, but it's in your best interest not to push me too hard. In short, I'm putting the cell number and code in your pocket; you\u2019ll find a card with keys worth fifty thousand eurocoins for your expenses. Call your buddy from Telecom, Max, and tell him you need to meet. Set a place where you can quietly pick him up, and take him. Then you call me right away and pass on the name I tell you. You buy your own tools; you have connections. If they hesitate to deal with you, say you're from Tom. Just make sure the client stays whole and unharmed. How to execute it, think for yourself, but if you get exposed or mess it up, we will drop you, no hard feelings.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No way, are you joking? How am I not going to get caught? He has a chip that records everything for Telecom's security. I'm not doing anything; just kill me now. You think I'm a complete idiot, like you\u2019ll let me live after this?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't worry, buddy, nobody will touch you if you do everything cleanly. Our boss doesn\u2019t abandon useful people. On the contrary, you\u2019ll get an extra fifty for the job and new documents. Think about how to contact without anyone knowing where the client is going and why. We're giving you a week, so don't take your time. If you start to hesitate, we'll make it quick. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Denis felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You now have several million nanobots in your blood; we will always be able to find you by their signal. In seven days, the robots will release a deadly poison. Don\u2019t look for an antidote; the poison is unique. Be careful with the shielding; if there\u2019s no signal for more than two hours, the poison will activate automatically. If you try to get rid of them, the poison will also activate automatically. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, jerk, let the poison go immediately; what you\u2019re spinning here is complete nonsense. I\u2019m a dead man anyway.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Stop resisting. We're talking nicely for now, but we can also be hostile. What happened to Yan is just flowers compared to what awaits you. You will agree to anything, even chop up your own mother into pieces; you\u2019ll just suffer a bit first. The boss promised to cover you, so he will, he keeps his word. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let Arumov promise this to me personally, \u2014 Denis asked with a cheeky smirk and immediately received a painful blow to the kidneys.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Keep your mouth shut, bitch. I'm giving you one last chance; either do as you're told or it'll go poorly for you. I honestly don't care which option you choose. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Burn in hell. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay, okay, I agree, \u2014 Dan yelled as he was being hit. After receiving a few more blows to the ribs for good measure, he stumbled out of the van onto the chipped asphalt. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How can I contact you? \u2014 Denis wheezed, sitting on the asphalt.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I will contact you myself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The minivan sped up the hill and quickly disappeared from view. Dan lingered for a moment, cursed his hard life and Arumov's ancestors to the tenth generation, and wobbled back home. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat the hell!\u201d \u2014 Senya lazily stretched, revealing a mouth full of sharp fangs, and reluctantly got up from his warm belly. Lenochka was already peacefully asleep. There was no need to lull her to sleep on purpose.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, the guy-from-the-dreams has serious problems. And if he kicks the bucket in a week, he'll have to be smart for the rest of his days. Quite a cheerful prospect. Of course, I could turn off the cameras and hypnotize the owner to extract everything she knows about Arumov, but it probably wouldn't help much. So first, I need to send a message to the curator.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Arseniy nimbly jumped onto the shelf of the furniture wall and clumsily knocked over a plush bear, covering the camera lens set up by Arumov's people. Then, no longer hiding, he moved to the table and quickly sent a brief report and request to the curator from the laptop. Curling up on the closed device, he began to wait.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Denis was walking again through the overgrown garden towards the bust of Bauman. Something about the surroundings troubled him, but he couldn't figure out what exactly for a long time. Small pebbles crunched underfoot, and old trees rustled. The day was windy and damp; he could smell wet grass and withered leaves. Yes, the usual city sounds like honking cars and the murmur of human crowds didn\u2019t reach here at all, but that was typical for the East even in residential areas. Still, it felt strange: he had just been nursing his bruises in his kitchen, yet somehow arrived in the park\u2026? Only after sitting on a bench in the center did Denis realize that something was off. Like in previous times, he noticed a large striped cat lounging comfortably on the bench across from him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mikha Arseni looked harmless and never displayed an ounce of aggression. Now, he was simply scratching at the dried wood and squinting at the sun peeking from behind the clouds. What danger could possibly come from such a cute little cat? But Denis always felt that this incredible creature, emerging from the most secret depths of imperial labs, was just mocking him. He clearly saw that smirk in its squinted yellow eyes. It was also studying his mind, his strengths and weaknesses, to later report back to its secret masters. However, if Semen was to be believed, the only curator of these creatures was himself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, buddy, looks like you've really gotten yourself into a mess, \u2014 came Semen's voice as he sat down next to Denis, distracting him from his staring contest with the cat.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, quite a mess. We barely managed to draft the manifesto before Arumov captured the main fighter against the regime. And he did it thoroughly; you can't escape that...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What did you expect, old school? But don't lose hope; our fluffy friend in his lair is a serious trump card. It was a great idea about this Lenochka. Have any other ideas popped up?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not really, except for trying to lure Arumov out for a personal handover of Max, to capture him and extract the codes for disabling the nanobots. But first, I need to discreetly negotiate with Max himself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s a very dangerous option for you, for me, and for your buddy. Arumov might show up to the meeting with a small personal army. And how many fighters can we muster? Plus, it\u2019s unclear what Max\u2019s real value is as bait.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s true, just thoughts out loud. You better say: did you find anything about Arumov or their internal squabbles with the RSAD research institute?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No new updates on the colonel: he popped up out of nowhere, without a past, but with a whole army of personally loyal militants. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And did you dig up anything on telecom super soldiers?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There\u2019s a hypothesis about super-soldiers: after the second space war, when our troops were driven off Mars, some ghosts secretly took refuge in underground caves beneath Ful and other cities. I don\u2019t know how they survive there, but there are quite a few indirect pieces of evidence about their presence. It is clear that they are stubborn, so they engage in guerrilla tactics, while the Martians attribute this to the terrorist activities of various radicals. They seem to pose serious problems for the Martians, perhaps even worse than MIK agents: they can\u2019t be smoked out, and punitive expeditions from the underground don\u2019t always return. I believe they eventually managed to persuade all or some of the ghosts to cooperate. Traitors transferred the decrypted genotype of the ghosts to them, and that\u2019s how Martians began to clone them. And the SB of the INKIS is used simply as cannon fodder in exchange for a seat on the Advisory Council. Or another option: Telecom is stirring this up without its sworn enemies from Neurotech and MDT, which is why everything is located in Moscow. Against whom this is prepared \u2014 there are also several options: maybe against those ghosts who did not repent and did not realize, or maybe Telecom wants to gain a competitive advantage in fair market competition. In short, we need to dig deeper.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And what about Arumov, who do you think he works for? For Telecom?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I doubt it; I think he has his own plans, he doesn\u2019t seem like someone who selflessly helps Martians.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I thought so too. But Leo Schultz, apparently, loves Martians instead. Why are they so chummy?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We need to distinguish between the concepts of \u2018sincerely having unrequited love for Martians\u2019 and \u2018wanting to take a high position in Martian elite.\u2019 I think our cunning Schultz is also playing some double game with his own goals and likely not revealing all the details about Arumov to his masters from Mars. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What about Telecom\u2019s SB and loyalty checks?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I don\u2019t know; for now, we can only speculate. I\u2019ve laid out for you all the more or less reliable info I have. Let\u2019s think about what to do next.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Let\u2019s think. Who is the brain of the operation?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, actually, Denis, you are the brain and the main ideological inspirer. I\u2019m just an old geezer, raising little kittens. When there\u2019s more data from the replicant about Arumov, maybe I\u2019ll get inspired. You should find out what kind of relationship they have with your buddy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, you know, you can't just ask directly; it's a telecom chip, and that charmer Tom is breathing down our necks now. Should we throw Max a cat for secret communication too?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If he is indeed a big shot in Telecom, they might check the cat. And if he's unreliable, he might just sell us out. Are you sure about him?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No. We used to be close friends, but when he left for Mars five years ago, we kind of lost touch. Who he hung out with there, who knows? But we need to talk; he called me wanting to meet. The sooner, the better. It\u2019s probably very dangerous now, but I don't see the point in dragging this out hoping the situation with Tom resolves itself. It might also be good to warn Max. Have you figured out how to send a secret message to a person with a Telecom neurochip?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, Dan, we've discussed this many times. Any system of secret codes or ciphers requires at least preliminary approval from Max himself. And it can easily attract the attention of the security service.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We need to come up with a system that doesn't draw attention. Like playing chess, and when you touch a specific piece, you convey important information, while the rest is just meaningless chatter.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s child\u2019s play, excuse me. Such ancient tricks are unlikely to work in our enlightened age. And still, we should first agree with Max on what pieces to touch.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let\u2019s assume he figures it out along the way.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, for the hundredth time, the same thing. If he figures it out, why wouldn\u2019t the sex worker watching his chip figure it out too? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The chess example is just that. We need to come up with a trick based on something known only to the two of us. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I already thought of a phrase that would definitely sound like meaningless chatter to anyone else. Let\u2019s forget for a moment that this outsider might be quite familiar with Max's biography; let\u2019s assume he\u2019s not. This magical phrase would clearly explain the essence of the secret message system to Max.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You, Semyon Sanych, are only good at criticizing. I\u2019m at least suggesting something.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, excuse the old fart. I\u2019ve really become quite bad.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And when anything comes up, right away: I\u2019m an old geezer, I\u2019m in my shell.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It's already a habit. If you don't have any better ideas, I suggest telling Max directly when we meet. Just don\u2019t use any key phrases. There's a good chance that the Security Service won't even look at this entry. And even if they do, who knows, they might help against Arumov. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 If you contact Telecom, you won't be able to backtrack afterwards.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So, maybe we should shift from grand plans of war with Martians to smaller things, like saving your skin?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It's too early to give up.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Look, it might be too late in seven days.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I have a couple of new ideas.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Just a couple?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, the first one could spark a thought for you. If we cut off the chip, there shouldn\u2019t be any recordings left. For example, have some random guy run up, hit Max and knock me out with your gadget, steal something and get away. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 If the chip is turned off, the person usually goes out as well, right?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 From what I've seen, that doesn't happen. Maybe the expensive Telecom chips are designed differently. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Maybe. Do you know how powerful the shock needs to be? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No. And like I said, the idea is not great: the sound also disappears. If it didn't, the Security Service could listen in on everything. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And such an incident would definitely draw their attention. However, your line of thought is quite interesting.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Yes, the second idea builds on the first. After the chip is switched off, tactile and pain sensations seem to remain, which means that these areas of the nervous system are not directly controlled by the chip and, therefore, have a good chance of not being monitored. So, we need to send a message through tactile sensations, something like Braille.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Does Max know it?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I suspect he doesn't, just like me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Just like me. My opinion, Dan, hasn't changed; there are people in the Telecom Security Service who aren't any less clever than us. But fine, I'll think about this with my comrades. And since such a brilliant idea has arisen, there's the possibility to do what Arumov wants. Maybe he just wanted to have a cup of coffee with Max. Just please, don\u2019t look so offended. Just consider all the options. There are things worse than death, and Arumov's thugs know this firsthand.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, Semyon Sanych. When the poison comes, I might regret it, but not yet. Try to develop a clear tactile message, and I'll meet with Max first and subtly hint to him that Arumov is thirsting for his blood. Let the security services figure out what he wants.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, I'll try. There's also the option to risk a replicant. He'll attempt to neutralize Arumov when he enters the office and rummages through his computer. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, we shouldn't touch Arumov for now. It might yield nothing, but there will be very uncomfortable questions for Lenochka that she will have to answer. So, how many fighters can you muster?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, it's completely insane to try to directly attack the colonel...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You don't necessarily have to attack him; we could capture Leo Schultz.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019ve gone mad...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Or do you have ideas about that super-soldier who saved me, Ruslan? Apparently, he also has some issues with the management; if we could sway him to our side...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What side are you talking about? What do you think our side consists of? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In short, how many fighters do you have?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, there are two who help me with the nursery, but they are just as much retirees. Maybe a couple of old friends will show up. But first, we need to give them some clear goal.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It doesn\u2019t matter; if the resources are there, a goal will be found. Anyway, I'll order about ten sets of gear, five regular AK-85s with combined sights, a couple of silent vampires, and a couple of ultra-long-range gauss rifles. If there\u2019s enough money, there are also mini-rockets for under-barrel launchers with thermobaric warheads. You can toss them into the enemy\u2019s window from two kilometers away. And I'll grab a dozen small drones, like 'dragonflies'.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, are you planning to start a war?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s the difference? War or no war, it won't be a waste. Besides, it's doubly foolish to die by Arumov's hand without even taking him down for fifty grand. If anything, the tools will come to you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And you, seriously, can you buy all this in just a few days?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'll try with the old partners; they have plenty of this stuff. Probably through Kolyan, but he's quite scared... so I'll have to share. I'll ask to leave the goods in the van at the agreed spot; I'll send the address through the furry one. While we wait, I could also drop by Dreamland to check what Leo Schulz wanted to offer. As you say, we need to go through all the options.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You say Dreamland\u2026 Hmm, considering how much you dislike neural chips, the activities of that company should drive you crazy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What do they do?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They deal in drugs, but digital ones. And I think their profits are no less than those from good old-fashioned chemistry. They create any worlds for those who want to leave this one forever and move to the virtual one. Plus, they tamper with memories so the client remembers nothing. The service is called 'Martian Dream.'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That\u2019s nasty; once we sort out my problem, the next step will be to burn this Dreamland to the ground.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And the coolest part is that they\u2019ve reached such heights in the development of molecular chips and medical influence on brains that they can show the Martian dream even to people with cheap or old chips. Even you might see it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No way.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They recently released a new product: a temporary molecular chip. You take a patch, stick it on your skin, and short-lived m-chips gradually seep into your blood, sending you on a digital trip. There are different kinds of patches for uplifting consciousness, calming it down, or complete dissolution. Experts say anyone can find one to their liking. By the way, it just occurred to me, maybe this is a good way to send a secret message. They can even make patches on order.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t in my plans to meddle, but now it\u2019s fine.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Do I need to do anything else besides gathering intel on Arumov, signing a few people up for a crazy venture, and hiding a ton of weapons?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Yes, find another way to communicate. Damn it, Semyon Sanych, you have no idea how much this telepathic connection through cats freaks me out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, first of all, it\u2019s not exactly telepathic in the way you think. Secondly, if you\u2019d read that instruction carefully, you\u2019d be even more scared.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's funny, are you really sure that the little creature won't get out of control?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's pointless to question a replicant. The project was created as an addition to the main espionage program against Martians. A bug disguised as a pet that can be given to interesting people. But it quickly became clear that for the bug to work effectively, it must possess at least limited intelligence. Some parallel programs were developed to enhance the intelligence of dogs, parrots, and monkeys, but they all ultimately hit a dead end, as far as I know. Replicants, like our Arseniy, emerged from one experimental fact that was never fully explained by the 'great minds' behind the project. Although I'm not a 'great mind,' I may be mistaken. In general, the fact is that a copy of a human's consciousness, transferred to a suitable matrix, retains limited intelligence for some time, in the sense that it can act and make decisions similar to the original. Moreover, if the copy is guided by even a primitive animal intelligence, but has a similar set of sensory organs and constantly receives information about the original's thought processes, this quasi-intelligence can be maintained for a long time. A connection is established between the original mind and its copy, allowing the active consciousness to 'wander' between the bodies of humans and replicants, while the physical connection does not even have to be constant. Cats only need to meet once every few months to maintain their connection and broadcast human memories. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Here's the paradox: consciousness cannot be duplicated, only transmitted. There are even cases described of partial transfer of consciousness and memory to a replicant when a person was dying, but never \u2014 of division. All attempts to fully split consciousness led to one of the copies losing its intelligence.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In answer to your main question: Arseny and the others are intelligent at the level of dolphins, and all of their other thinking activities are a reflection of our intellects, plus the original firmware consisting of standard instructions and algorithms. A huge side benefit of this scheme is that since the intelligence of the replicants is guided, they only use it when necessary and do not strive to develop it further. There is no need to fear that they will become too smart and get out of control. In most cases, the cats are just happy to get rid of these extra problems. However, if communication sessions are regular, they operate just as efficiently as a whole team of agents. Additionally, they can grow simple bio-robots to control humans. However, at the initial stage, they usually limit themselves to poisons and other minor nuisances under their claws.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It would have been better if you hadn\u2019t told me. This is some creepy telepathy. So where is the real me in the end: in the cat's head, or am I home asleep? Hey, maybe the cats will grow bio-robots to deal with the mess that the people of Arumov injected?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, Denis, I'm sorry. Cats can only do what is programmed into them. I'm not downgrading; I'm really not a 'great mind,' not a biophysicist or microbiologist. I don't even know the principle behind their telepathic connection without a constant physical channel. Essentially, I am an animal technician and have been dealing with purely practical tasks in the project. And when those people, who were cutting the heritage of the Empire for scrap, came to inventory our top-secret nursery, we just managed to sneak out some equipment and animals under the cover of night. We had a professor with us, but he has been dead for about ten years now. Even he could only support the operation. Even if you were Sir Isaac Newton, it wouldn't be possible to create a new bio-robot without an institutional base.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So it\u2019s worth at least ordering the funeral. The day is already known; we can plan everything in advance.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't lose heart, my friend; everything happens for the best. And we should wrap things up. The scope of work is defined, the next session is scheduled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Purr-r-r-ossipy\" meowed the big cat piercingly and, like a fluffy projectile, leaped with a powerful jump straight at Denis. The last thing he saw were yellow eyes and claws flying right at his face.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis was jolted from his drowsiness by an insistent call over the network. Reluctantly, he sat up on the couch, rubbing his sleepy face and opened the window.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What, are you sleeping or what?\" came an annoyed voice. There was no image.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Who is this?\" Denis, still not fully awake, replied in surprise.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"A horse in a coat. It\u2019s Tom, you need to stop relaxing and start finding options regarding Max. Or do you need extra motivation?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, wait, how did you get in...?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Listen, village boy. You think altruistic hackers write firmware for your tablet? These people have been working for us for a long time, so don\u2019t be surprised. And get your act together, believe me, you won\u2019t like the extra motivation.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Alright, alright, I have an idea on how to meet Max. Don\u2019t panic over there.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I see that your insights only come after our conversations. Maybe a personal meeting will inspire you even more.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"You're sweet, but we can do without personal meetings. Don\u2019t stress, everything will be fine.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I\u2019m waiting for concrete results,\" Tom growled in conclusion and disconnected.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What a life,\" Denis thought irritably, \"three months stuck like in a swamp with nothing happening, and now, damn, it's a hurdle race. At least the boredom went away, just like that.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis pushed another cat off his chest, which had deeply sunk its claws into his skin. It provided a telepathic connection with its kin by directly interfacing with the human nervous system. A fat, lazy, very large cat named Adolf presented a striking contrast to the cute little Arseniy. According to Semyon, he could simply be called Adik, but this fat creature never deigned to respond to Adik. Apparently, following the old tradition, the system developers didn\u2019t bother with a friendly interface.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I hope that if I die, I won\u2019t end up in you.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Adolf merely yawned at this remark and began leisurely licking his genitals, showing not even a hint of quasi-sentience, let alone basic manners.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Rubbing his injured ribs, Denis hurriedly got ready and sprang out onto the street. He had quite a few things planned for today.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0First, he had to stop by the bank to retrieve his card with euros. Next, he bought a very basic folding tablet with a secondary SIM card. He no longer trusted his old tablet but was afraid to throw it away due to the potential reaction of his buddy Tom; he only removed the lenses and headphones. He had to endure the collapse of the false sense of anonymity he had cherished all these years, gritting his teeth. There was no time to cry into a pillow. He could only stick to the communication schedule strictly and hope that Semen, through the device that had betrayed him, was not tracked by Arumov's people. After all, after talking with old acquaintances, Denis felt that all the traders of illegal goods were now somehow tied to Arumov or, at the very least, were severely afraid of him. It remained a mystery how Arumov managed to track all of them down, given that they were all cautious individuals and rarely saw each other face to face. Personal contacts like his former boss Yan or Kolyan had become more of an anachronism, grounded in school, university, and other acquaintances, as well as their high positions in legitimate structures and a complete sense of impunity. European, or even more so Martian, dealers would never allow themselves such luxury.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Everything with Kolyan went both simply and complicatedly. Unfortunately, Denis had lost his old contacts and had no other way to quickly place an order with his Siberian 'friends.' On one hand, the mention of Tom and fifty grand had a nearly magical effect on him. He nearly melted into a puddle of relief right on the floor. However, when Denis hinted that things weren\u2019t going smoothly with Tom and asked him to keep the order's specifics hidden, Kolyan's right eye began to twitch noticeably. Only the unreasonably high commission for the deal overcame his fears.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis made another unpleasant discovery when he asked to use the soundproof room to warn Semen about the old tablet and discuss the time he would switch on the new one. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he felt a sharp dizziness, as if the floor had suddenly vanished beneath his feet. The dizziness passed quickly, but it awoke insane voices in his head that began whispering some unintelligible nonsense in various ways. At first barely audible, but each minute they grew louder and more insistent, and soon the voices were accompanied by a hideous giggle. The collar he wore warned him not to try to shake it off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then Lapin began calling, whining about why Denis wasn't at work while poor Lapin was forced to deal with the disposal of some container and wasn't allowed to go on his long-awaited vacation. Why our department had to handle this instead of the procurement team\u2026 And anyway, it was some biochemical rubbish, I don\u2019t even want to get close to it. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis had no desire to talk to Lapin at all. He was utterly astonished at how calmly the latter pretended as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just been singing Denis's praises and promised to speak up for a colleague, only to disgracefully turn him in the moment Arumov applied a little pressure. And in any case, Lapin was originally to blame for everything with his childish excuses about the protocol. If he hadn\u2019t listened to him, he wouldn\u2019t have met Max and wouldn\u2019t have led Arumov to this stupid idea.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis muttered something like, \"All questions go to Arumov; I'm working on his orders. And dump your problems onto Novikov, as usual,\" and disconnected. \"And the container\u2014now that's interesting,\" Denis thought. \"Is it the very container that Arumov was raving about in the office? And why is he keeping it, I wonder?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The most challenging task for today was left for last. Max himself had been asking for a meeting for several days to discuss something important. He insisted it was very important, yet he shared no specifics. Denis and Semen were frantically trying to devise a system of secret messages. Ultimately, they dragged it out to the point where the meeting became simply dangerous. Denis decided it was worth the risk, before Tom completely cornered him. There was hope that messages through a secondary SIM card and a messenger with the most advanced encryption technologies would at least protect him from the colonel's friends.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMax, hey, are you free to meet today?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWho is this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt's Dan, just writing from a different number.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat's going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cJust some temporary issues. Are you free or not?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI can in a couple of hours, where?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cLet's meet at our favorite place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh, okay, let's do that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis started planning a route, sufficiently convoluted in case of annoying attention from all sorts of shady characters. But then Max sent a new message.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cJust to clarify, this is the place near my university, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo, the one we went to after university.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAfter? At least hint which direction to go from the university.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMax, please don't be dense. The one we went to after you finished university.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOut of town?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat out of town? The place where we usually drank.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDan, we drank in a lot of places.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYeah, we've covered all the seedy spots in Moscow. The one with that really high staircase.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh, the staircase, now I get it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cGot it for sure?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cListen, why the guessing game? Just write it directly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYeah, I need it for myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOkay, so I take it\u2019s the one out\u2026 under the city?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYes, Max, let\u2019s meet in two hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis irritably threw aside the tablet and started the car's engine.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAny spy would have shot themselves out of embarrassment after such a thing, \u2014 he thought, \u2014 an incredible number of hints for Arumov's people if they read this. Conspiracy theorists, damn.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0After the fall of the Empire, most of the metro was gradually abandoned. The population's flight from Moscow made its upkeep unjustifiable. Only sections in the west and south were maintained in working order, supplemented by above-ground monorails. Meanwhile, the deserted underground halls in other areas were sometimes preserved, sometimes turned into storage, production, or unusual drinking establishments, like the pub '1935', where Dan and Max loved to stop by in the good old days. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of course, compared to the good old times when craft beer flowed like a river here, and gorgeous girls danced in wet bikinis until morning at the bar, the pub has clearly fallen into disrepair. The escalator only worked for going up, and despite it being evening, there were very few visitors. They no longer attracted craft beer enthusiasts; rather, it catered to drinkers from the nearby area. Behind the bar, which stretched almost the entire length of the station, only a couple of bartenders were bored. In the best of times, a whole crowd of bartenders could barely keep up with the demands of the reveling hipsters. The trains on the tracks were tightly boarded up, whereas before they extended deep into the tunnels, and it was a special treat to stroll along both trains throughout the evening, participating in all the themed parties and contests along the way. But such indulgences seemingly did not resonate with the esteemed audience of the current assembly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The crazy voices in his head awoke roughly halfway up the escalator. Just in case, Denis first approached a familiar bartender to find out if any new notable guys had come through in the last couple of hours. The bartender shrugged and pointed to Max, who was sipping beer at a table under a column. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 First one?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, it's the second one already, come on, catch up, \u2014 Max replied melancholically. \u2013 The place has deteriorated, though the beer is still decent. And there are no dancing girls in sight, maybe later\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A crisis has hit, the girls have all gone to warmer places. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's a pity, I still remember some of them. What was the name of the one with the biggest eyes, Anya or Tanya? Yes, it's a pity\u2026 it was an atmospheric place.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's still atmospheric now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, like the atmosphere of a beer stall, only inside the metro instead of outside. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, not Martian restaurants. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don\u2019t even mention it. Everything here is depressing, but you know, I\u2019d rather drink here every day and quietly die than drag myself to Mars. Mars took everything from me, leaving just a hollow shell...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you sure you haven\u2019t had a bit too much? Is this really the second one?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Maybe the third. Nostalgia is just wearing me down. Why did you drag me here, Dan?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You wanted to talk, actually.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I wanted to, but, you know... it\u2019s unlikely you can help me. Honestly, I\u2019ve got nothing and no one to help me. Let\u2019s just get really drunk instead.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh no, buddy, that won\u2019t do. First, I can\u2019t stay here any longer. I have an hour at most. And second, you shouldn't stay here with me either. Remember, we discussed that dangerous guy that you seem to know well? Well, he\u2019s really interested in you now and might try to reach you through me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What?? \u2013 Max, slightly dazed, started rubbing his face like someone just woken up in the middle of the night. \u2013 Are you serious right now?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 More than serious. \u2013 Denis was cursing himself for not considering the alcohol when inviting him to the pub. \u2013 So let\u2019s quickly discuss what you wanted, and we need to scatter.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How did he even find out about me?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What do you think? He was really upset when we didn\u2019t sign that damn protocol, and my chubby boss spilled all the details to him. The jerk, I\u2019ll bring that up with him later.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There are plenty of people named Max in the world, classmates of some Denis Kaysanova. How did he figure out I\u2019m the one?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Which Max? And by the way, he might not have understood anything, he might just want to check, just in case.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A-ah... damn. This is unexpected. I was just going to sit down, talk, discuss my heavy sins. And here we are. You could have hinted a bit more carefully. Leo will shake me down if he hears. And you too, by the way; I\u2019m still a valuable employee.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, valuable employee, but I\u2019ve realized we\u2019re not doing so well with hints. And this isn't the time for jokes. Also, if this dangerous guy finds out I warned you, I\u2019m in deep trouble. So please, play along and pretend everything is fine.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019ll play along, but since this has turned out this way, do you remember the offer from Telecom? It\u2019s the perfect time to agree.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, Max, I can't deal with Telecom. Don't worry, I'll manage. I still have friends in Siberia; if things get tough, I'll reach out to them. Although they themselves are now under that dangerous guy's thumb.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Friends in Siberia, huh...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max, now is not the time to argue, really. Let's get down to business, or we need to scatter. And no more drinking; you're already a bit soft.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's because of Mars; my metabolism has completely changed. Now even beer knocks me out in no time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I see, Mars really messed you up.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You can't even imagine how much, Max continued to lament his fate. \u2013 I can't even run a hundred meters on a normal planet anymore. Forget that, I can't even stand on my feet for more than half an hour. Just take a look.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Max rolled up his pant leg, showcasing the carbon fiber ribs of his exoskeleton.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Without this thing, I can't even get off the compensating mattress in the morning; I stumble and sweat like a paralytic. I've been suffering for almost half a year, and there's not much progress in rehab.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis watched his friend with increasing concern. He seemed seriously set on an alcohol-fueled therapy session. Meanwhile, the voices in his head were quite bothersome, even though very little time had passed. The prospect of running into Tom's crew while dragging a drunken mess like Max scared him genuinely. So, Denis decisively took the mug for himself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max, seriously, we can\u2019t waste time here; let\u2019s get ready if there's nothing to discuss.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Ah, Dan, we were such good friends. Didn't you say your home is always open to me, day or night?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It\u2019s not about our friendship; it's about circumstances. By the way, you contributed to these circumstances yourself. Don't you remember how the super soldier showed up?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm sorry, Dan, I never apologized for that incident, Max sighed. \u2013 I just wanted to show off a bit and didn\u2019t think about the consequences.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, apologies accepted, but it\u2019s too late to drink Borjomi now. It's time to get out of here.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, Dan, \u2014 Max leaned in sharply toward his companion and spoke in a theatrical whisper. \u2014 There\u2019s one topic that will help us solve all our problems, without any Telecoms and other scumbags involved. I know how we can quickly rake in a lot of money, and it\u2019s practically legal.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max, you didn\u2019t accidentally forget about the goats from your Telecom security service, did you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who cares about them. There's reliable information that the first department is really overloaded right now, and the chances of them reviewing the footage are slim. If we can get everything done quickly, we\u2019ll grab the cash and leave before they catch on.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, and what's the deal? \u2013 Denis sighed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There was a time on Mars when I was a big shot. But then, let's just say, I messed up badly and lost all my privileges. But I hid something away for a rainy day. You know how to crash the rate of any Martian cryptocurrency?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sure, as if anyone would let you crash the Neurotek currency. They\u2019d probably crash us in no time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why Neurotek right away? There are simpler and smaller currencies. Basically, I have a complete description of a vulnerability in the algorithms of one not-so-common, but valuable currency. The scam is extremely simple: we borrow as much as we can in that currency, exchange it for something stable, and then publish the vulnerability \u2014 voila: we pay off all debts with the first paycheck.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you suggesting we play on the Martian exchange?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No need to go to the Martian exchange. They have smart contracts everywhere that protect against such fraudsters; they might automatically block the accounts of everyone who shorted that currency until further notice. But here in our backward mother Russia, we can make a regular 'paper' contract through some ancient lending service. And before the law, we\u2019ll be formally clean and can flee wherever we want.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And how much do you think we\u2019ll make through an ancient service?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We\u2019ll make a decent profit, trust me. We just need to find more shady people who will take on the debts. By the way, that will be your task.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Max, are you kidding? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Den, I\u2019m offering you a real opportunity as your best friend. \u2013 Max grabbed Denis by the sleeve, looking devotedly into his eyes. \u2014 And you\u2019re still whining. We'll be set for life.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What makes you think this vulnerability hasn\u2019t been patched up long ago?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It hasn\u2019t been patched; I know for sure.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what currency is it?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 E-net, all the details later. \u2013 Max switched to a whisper. \u2013 Head to Dreamland to see what Schulz has prepared. I'll leave another note there, it will have all the details. Just tell them your friend from the town of Tule sends his regards.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay, I'll check out your Dreamland.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, we can't just go. We need to start looking for people and plan an escape route now. I hope you\u2019re good at this kind of thing.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you think I have nothing better to do right now?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just drop everything, a golden opportunity like this comes once in a lifetime. But we need to act fast.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cFaster!\u201d \u2014 someone behind them said in a creepy childlike voice. Denis flinched as if shocked, and started looking around anxiously for the owner of the voice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, are you okay?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm fine, just thought I heard something.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You're all sweaty.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It got hot. We're sitting here like two idiots. Let\u2019s go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, will you find people?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I will, I will\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis practically dragged Max away from the table.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So you\u2019ll sign up?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, I'm in, move it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis approached the bartender and handed him a card with fifty euro coins.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wow, a tip, hit the jackpot? \u2014 the bartender asked melancholically.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Inherited some money. Egor, please take my friend through the tunnels and put him in a taxi.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you waiting for someone?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, just in case.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you sure? I don\u2019t need any trouble, you can see my situation isn\u2019t great.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I promise.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, Sanya will take you out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The bartender gestured to the bored security guard.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis stoically endured Max's long drunken farewells and persistent offers to drink just one more for the road, and wiped sweat from his forehead only when Max disappeared behind the service door accompanied by the guard. He turned around and nearly gasped. A little girl in a pink dress with a huge bow was standing not ten feet away from him. The girl wasn't laughing in a ghostly voice; she simply smiled sweetly, her piercing blue eyes attentively watching every move. Denis felt sweat drip even more and sensed a traitorous tremor in his knees.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Egor, I'm off, gotta run.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, your friend seems to have slipped something into your back pocket while you were hugging.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Seriously, thanks.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis found a piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans. \"I wonder if Max really didn't get completely wasted. It doesn't seem like him; he was always a smart guy.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He literally flew up the escalator. Luckily, Tom and his crew weren't waiting for him at the exit. But the call came through as soon as the tablet caught a signal.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Where have you been? \u2013 Tom's angry voice rang out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I was just taking care of your matters.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You're supposed to be running around for my business alone. Do you have something more important to do?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, why are you getting on my case?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why was there no signal?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis carefully looked around the square in front of the exit and the road. Nothing suspicious seemed to be visible, but he was afraid to lie outright.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I was in one place underground. I met with a guy who knows about telecom security systems.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, is there progress? C'mon, don\u2019t stay silent, you should be calling and cheerfully chattering about what\u2019s what.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There\u2019s progress; there\u2019s a way to secretly lure Max to a meeting.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, I\u2019m losing patience. What\u2019s the way?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The time will come, I\u2019ll tell you everything. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Your time will be up in ten seconds. Count.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, we have an agreement, right? \u2014 Denis hurriedly chimed in, \u2014 I\u2019ll bring you Max, and you\u2019ll cover me from Telecom\u2019s revenge. You\u2019re certainly intimidating; I\u2019ve already crapped my pants three times, but the Telecom Security could be worse. What difference does it make whose hand I die by? If I tell everything, you\u2019ll just set me up and leave me hanging. Let\u2019s play fair.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Play fair? I\u2019m the most honest person in the world; what I say, I always do.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You said I have seven days. In seven days, I\u2019ll manage and do everything so clean that Telecom won\u2019t even realize what\u2019s happening, \u2014 Denis continued to bluff desperately. \u2014 But stop pushing me constantly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wanna play with me? Alright. Just promise me that if you don\u2019t follow through, it\u2019s much worse than dying. The devils in hell will weep looking at you. Next time you call, make sure to do it before I lose my cool.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Today, tomorrow I\u2019ll get the tools and organize everything.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You can tempt fate as much as you want. And, of course, I never thought you were such an idiot that you'd test everything on yourself, but keep in mind: in two hours, you\u2019ll get a lethal dose of poison, and in an hour and a half, you\u2019ll only go blind in one eye. You were close today. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With that, Tom hung up. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Well, what a sweetheart! It's such a pleasure to talk to him,\" Denis thought as he got into the car. \"I need to come up with something urgently, otherwise, I'll have to make a rather unpleasant choice. Oh, right.\" Denis almost forgot about the note. The message was scribbled on a scrap of paper, with quite an awkward handwriting, and the lines were all crooked and overlapping, but it was still legible.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Dan, forget all the nonsense I was blabbering. It was just to throw them off, you can go to Dreamland and check what Leo left to make the security service believe in this legend more strongly. The only way to trick them is to write such a note without looking at the paper. You could leave me a stamp of Martian dreams with the message, hoping they won't be able to read it. Head to the city of Korolev at this address. The apartment key is hidden under the door trim, on the lower right side. There should be a laptop in the apartment, the account password is 'March Hare.' There should be some program on the laptop, something like a messenger with a huge number of contacts. Message a person named Rudeman Saari: 'I want to start over and know a way to get in touch. Come to Moscow. Max.' Leave me a stamp with his reply if he sends one. Please, Dan, I have no one else to turn to. I've lost much more on Mars than money, family, and friends. Rudeman Saari is my only chance to get something back.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Well, Max, you're quite cunning,\" Denis sighed, \"but for now, I probably can't help you unless this mysterious Rudeman Saari also gets rid of Arumov for me. Although Semen could easily take a trip to Korolev.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The next day, the sun hadn't yet passed its zenith, and Denis was already standing in the parking lot in front of the 'DreamLand' company building. Yesterday, his neighbor Alex brought three bottles of beer, and he didn't manage to wake up early, even though Dan was acutely aware that drinking in his situation was quite foolish.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The newly constructed building resembled a gleaming elliptical dome made of glass and metal. Right in front of it lay a massive mirror of an artificial pond. Who would doubt that the trade in 'digital drugs' truly brought in significant profits? Inside, everything was adorned with luxurious ceramics and marble columns. 'I wonder why a company selling illusions bothers with the real decor of its lair?' Denis thought, skeptically surveying the interior. He felt almost a physical disgust towards this place. Like a master of the order of the holy inquisition, accidentally stumbling into an uninhibited orgy of satanic worshippers. No, he didn\u2019t want to participate or oversee the event; his desire to burn the place to the ground was quite sincere. Perhaps Denis would not have been able to overcome his revulsion and approach the reception, but the sect servant came up to him. A scrawny little man of indeterminate age, with gelled, thin hair and a sallow, unhealthy complexion. Despite the sour expression of the client, he broke into a rehearsed wide smile. Of course, it was foolish to hope for its sincerity in such a place. However, empathy and friendliness are rarely genuine anywhere; more often they conceal hypocrisy and self-interest. But fear and hatred are almost always real.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is this your first time here? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, do you think I would come back here?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Many do come back, \u2014 the little man smiled even wider, and for a moment, a savage grimace flashed in his grin and quickly vanished. But Denis was ready and managed to see everything.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A friend was supposed to leave me\u2026 something, \u2014 he uttered reluctantly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, let me check the database. May I have your name?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Denis\u2026 Kaysanov.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Excellent, Denis. My name is Yakov, I will be your assistant, if you don't mind. Your friend indeed left a gift for you, a very generous gift.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A message?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, no, he gifted you a little dream.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A little dream? \u2014 Denis spat. \u2014 No way, I\u2019m not going to stick a 'stamp'.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, this is much better than a simple stamp. Come, I will explain everything in a private room.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The little man gently hooked Denis by the elbow and led him through the hall into the building. They walked through a series of rooms with pools, around which many people were relaxing. \"Why did these idiots come here like seals on a beach instead of lying at home on the couch? What makes this place different from an ordinary online crap about elves and goblins?\" Denis thought as he passed by.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What are they seeing there?\" he asked the manager.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Everyone sees what they wish to see.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Many psychics and drug users see what they want to see.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Generally, no, they can't control the process. Of course, our technology is a unique innovation, but believe me, drugs have nothing to do with it. Imagination is the most powerful neural chip in the universe; you just need to make it work.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"And if there\u2019s no neural chip, will imagination be enough?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"It would simply be more expensive. Technology is not standing still; our m-chips hardly need implanted electronics anymore. The day is not far off when you will just inhale special spores that will develop into the necessary device in a person's body.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis shuddered at such a prospect.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Don't worry, you don\u2019t need to pay anything extra; it\u2019s all already covered,\" Yakov assured, misinterpreting the client\u2019s reaction. \"Please come in,\" he added, opening the doors to a small meeting room.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The room was mostly occupied by a glass table and a couple of shelves. Yakov rummaged around a bit and pulled out a small laptop from one of the shelves.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"You really don\u2019t have a chip?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Alright, then I\u2019ll show a brief presentation on the laptop...\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"No presentations needed; just explain what they've left for me.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, let's skip the presentations. We call this service the \"Well of Wishes.\" It's quite expensive and, let's say, not just for entertainment purposes. First, a special m-chip scans the memory and personality of the person, then the information obtained is processed by the most powerful neural networks of our company, including on Martian servers. You know, like image recognition, but the algorithms are much more complex. Based on the results, the next m-chip injections fulfill the most important, true dream of the person. At the client's request, we can erase the client's memory of coming to our company, so the simulated dream feels like a continuation of normal life and appears more real. But upon request, nothing can be erased if you don't want to. Of course, there are, to put it mildly, simple-minded people, and their dreams are too straightforward, there's nothing to decipher. But sometimes an ordinary person, seemingly unremarkable, comes to us and leaves completely transformed. They gain a motivation of a different order. They realize what they can achieve, and it instills such energy, such a will to win... For the sake of looking into the face of such a person, bidding farewell to them at the exit, I work tirelessly; we all work...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, Yakov, let's cut it out. Do you seriously think I'm going to let you inject me with these m-chips to recognize my identity? Are you all really not taking anything?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No one will see your personal data, don't worry. They actually aren't stored after the service is provided, not even in encrypted form. It's just impractical to fill data centers with terabytes of useless information.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, and neurochips never monitor users. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's strictly prohibited by laws and agreements, and besides, why would we need someone else's personal life?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I believe you with all my heart. And that Martians spend their days brushing unicorns' manes and chasing butterflies. So, did you leave me anything else?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just the payment for this service. But I can hardly imagine a great generosity...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No problem, you can dive into your well yourself. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I've used this service before and, as you can see, nothing terrible happened.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Really? And what did you see there?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What I saw there is not meant for anyone to know, not even the director of 'DreamLand.'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, who would doubt that? Anyway, all the best.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yak ov managed to intercept Denis right at the door.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Please hold on for just a couple of seconds. Your friend, strangely enough, foresaw that the reaction might be... not entirely proper. He asked me to convey that this might be a way to understand who you really are.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 My reaction is the only correct one. I'll figure out who I am myself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let me finish\u2026 Even if there is a hiccup the first time, though such cases have been rare during all the time we've worked, we will restart the program. The service has been paid for twice, with a money-back guarantee for the backup launch if it's not used\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis resolutely brushed off the manager and strode energetically toward the exit, ready to bump into Lenka right at the first pool, almost nose to nose. She looked, as usual, stunning, especially in contrast to the drab servant of Dreamland. Just like a ray of light in a dark realm.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, Denny, what are you doing here? \u2014 she chirped joyfully.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm leaving. And what brings you here?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just dealing with some things.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dealing with things? I thought people came from all over Moscow to hang out and have a good time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If you've got the cash, you can have a good time, \u2014 Lenka laughed. \u2014 Are you in a hurry?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not really, although I should be. What are you up to?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Nothing special. Don't you want to chill by the pool for a while?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Yeah, I definitely want to, \u2014 Denis thought, \u2014 and not just by the pool, and not just to relax. However, I do have a couple of urgent tasks: I really need to figure out how not to get crushed by your lover's Cerberus and decide what to do about Max's request.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let's go, \u2014 Lenka grabbed his sleeve. \u2014 Here, it\u2019s just like in a casino, everything's free. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, but then you might end up leaving without your pants, but sure, it's free.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't complain, let's go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Relaxing music played by the pool, with rows of sofas and loungers arranged around it. Nearby stood small dispensers offering free drinks. The floor, paved with pinkish-white tiles, gently sloped down into the pool, allowing artificial waves to occasionally wash over the feet of those relaxing. Portly, balding types, making up the main crowd here, lazily splashed around in the pinkish water or lay about on the loungers, sometimes casting interested glances at Lena. To Denis's considerable surprise, these greasy stares gave him the sensation of being petted against the grain. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll be gone for just five minutes to change,\u201d Lena said.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo need, I won\u2019t be long myself. I have things to do too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhy not? I\u2019ll be quick; don\u2019t you want to dive in?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDefinitely not. I might catch some virtual bug from these seals.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou won\u2019t catch anything,\u201d Lena laughed again. \u201cThere are special little baths over there by the pool. You stick a sticker on, jump in there, and wake up in that world. You can\u2019t catch anything in the pool.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLena, tell me, what\u2019s the difference between this nonsense and regular internet? Why bother splashing around here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re completely out of touch with reality. The internet is just cartoons; here, everything is completely real. You swim back across this pool and feel its coolness. You touch someone and feel their warmth,\u201d Lena gently touched Denis's face with her palm. \u201cThe stickers transmit all emotions and sensations. You can even record feelings from the real world and then share them with friends.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAnd what kind of feelings do you share here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDifferent ones. Isn\u2019t it great to drink a bottle of wine somewhere in Bali in the heart of a dreadful Moscow winter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYeah, or to try something a bit stronger in Goa, since it's virtual.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSome come here just to try everything. There are no health consequences.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe most dangerous addiction is psychological. They actually live better this way; clients live longer, and they won\u2019t just slip off the hook.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, Denchik, why are you lecturing me! I\u2019m just making a little extra money here, no drugs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMaking extra cash? How\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's nothing special: you register as a personal assistant and accompany those wishing to enter that world.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Can't bots accompany them there?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, the whole point is for it to feel like reality. You leave the pool and at first, you don't even realize you've entered another world. Otherwise, all those silly women will buy up cosmetic programs just to avoid sweating at the gym and dieting\u2026 What\u2019s wrong with you? Stop laughing!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, Lena, I can't, I thought all women were thrilled with cosmetic programs.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Some silly women are thrilled, wanting to snag some fool. They don't understand that sooner or later, this will all come to light.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, you're an honest woman then? Alright, alright, no more fighting\u2026 You know, I\u2019ve met fools who said themselves: let it be, what\u2019s the difference? What do those idiots from the pool care about who's hanging out with them? Whether it's silly women or fat old perverts, why pay extra money?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, apparently they do care, you know this is a deception. It's like instant coffee compared to the real thing.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you saying you\u2019re the real coffee?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, don\u2019t look at me like that, \u2014 Lena pouted slightly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, what do I care? Everyone fends for themselves.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, you don't care what I do? You don't care about me?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don\u2019t know, \u2014 Denis hesitated, \u2014 of course, I care. You\u2019re looking after my cat, after all, \u2014 he found his words.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, I am looking after him, \u2014 Lena sighed. \u2014 Your kitty is such a sweetheart, by the way, can I keep him a little longer? Please, please\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sure, of course. If anything happens, I bequeath him to you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What do you mean by bequeathing?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, it\u2019s just a figure of speech. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Denny, tell me what happened? I can see something's up.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Nothing happened.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If you tell me, maybe I can help somehow?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, how can you help?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In any way.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, you\u2019re already helping me, \u2014 Denis sighed. \u2014 Alright, Lena, you really need to stop with that nasty Dreamland, and I really have to get going.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, Denny, let me quickly change, and you pick us some drinks. And we can chat a little longer.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay, just don\u2019t take too long, alright?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Lenochka, surprisingly, almost kept to the promised five minutes. But when she, like a caravel in a red swimsuit, swam back to the pool, much to Denis's displeasure, an unremarkable manager named Yakov lurked in her shadow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, Denchik, I've heard something about you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't listen to him, it's all lies and slander.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, it really sounds just like you. You turned down such a cool thing. There's nothing better out there.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Lena, and you too\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, that\u2019s not all, he said that the service has been paid for you twice. It can be used by someone else of your choice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That's right, \u2014 Yakov chimed in.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So what?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What do you mean! Denchik, haven't you thought that we can use it together?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, that option exists, \u2014 the manager piped up again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm ready to go to the ends of the earth with you, but just not there.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Stop! We will have a common dream there, and we\u2019ll see how great everything will be!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what if it\u2019s not great?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Until you try, you won\u2019t know; it\u2019s foolish to be afraid of your own destiny because of that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Destiny? Do you really believe in that? How do I know it\u2019s not a scam? A fortune teller in the subway can predict your fate too.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Denchik, there\u2019s nothing smarter than this thing. If it makes a mistake, then anyone could make a mistake.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Even if that\u2019s so: this computer doesn\u2019t make mistakes. But if it predicts my fate, then it means I will lose my freedom of choice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, Denchik, you can be so tedious sometimes. If you're afraid, just say so\u2026 But I\u2019ll hold it against you, I swear.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's foolish to refuse, \u2014 Yakov smirked, casting a cheeky glance at Lenochka. \u2014 This program doesn\u2019t infringe on the freedom of choice; it merely helps make the right decision. After all, I would gladly buy such a service for your friend if I had the means\u2026 But someone else might be able to\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis looked at the manager with an openly hostile glare, but he didn\u2019t flinch.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, Lena, since you insist so much.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, that\u2019s what I want.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, \u2014 Denis relented. \u2014 Let's go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Denis.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What now?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We must hold hands while we fall asleep, okay?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Lena\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Then we\u2019ll wake up in a better world and be happy, alright?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 As you wish.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A stream of shadows drifted over the water, now not pink but almost black, deep like an abyss. On that shore, their personal demons awaited, bred by themselves, feeding on their weaknesses and fears. Vile white worms with red, greedy suckers wrapped around their bodies, and many-legged, slimy spiders crawled onto their backs, probing them with their chelicerae. Foul-smelling jellyfish floated in the air, thrusting their tentacles into noses and ears, tearing out eyes and replacing them with the eyes of frogs and snakes. Thousands of nightmarish creatures swarmed on the other side of the pool. Small and feeble for those who came for the first time, they persistently hovered nearby, hesitant to fully mount their victim. The gluttonous beasts, familiar to the regulars, slithered lazily towards their obedient waiting prey, and, with a churning sound, pushed their tentacles and jaws into the never-closing ragged wounds. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then, a large stream of parasite-laden shadows split into many tiny trickles, flowing from the countless mouths of a gigantic demon lying in a red, bubbling swamp. They flowed further into a terrifying otherworld, where they were fed by caterpillars, dressed in tattered rags made from rat skins, and placed in rotting bone carts so the shadows could boast to one another and discuss the flavor of waste and the merits of necklaces made from dead beetles. The most repulsive, half-decayed creatures slithering from the marsh praised and lauded the fools in the bone carts, leering hideously whenever they turned away.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They were patient, never in a hurry, and didn't frighten their victims. They sipped life slowly, each time declaring: 'It's just a drop; you have such a huge, beautiful life, and we're taking just a drop, an hour here, a day there. Will it truly diminish? And you can leave at any moment whenever you want, tomorrow, next month, or definitely in a year. Just not now; stay and enjoy right now.' And they drank a drop, all dried up, sending back the insubstantial shadows. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And somewhere there, in one of the streams, Lenochka rushed along, still alive and real, while around her a three-headed hydra coiled, trying to seize a piece of her sweet fear of loneliness and the desire to be someone other than the foolish mistress of a wealthy official. The hydra was in a hurry, for Lenochka was heading straight towards the spider queen, who would take her life all at once.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You broke the main rule; you listened to a woman and came with her straight into the enemy's lair. Here, they can see who you are and learn our secrets.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It\u2019s not me who broke it, it\u2019s him who broke it. The one who likes this Lena, who wants to bind his fate to hers, the one who doesn\u2019t see the truth about this place.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 He is you, don\u2019t forget.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not true; you know that yourself. I have long been a bodiless ghost. Look through my palm; do you see anything? I am the voice that whispers words of hatred to that man and nothing more. It\u2019s no wonder he didn\u2019t listen to the ghostly voice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You must be able to wait.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have been waiting too long for a future that will never come, which has turned into the same ghost.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It has already come if you fulfill your mission.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, since my consciousness was preserved after the victory, restored after a thousand years, and sent to a new past to fight again. This cycle of rebirths cannot be broken.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sorry, but war never ends. Our enemy fights all at once and everywhere, but final victory is possible. The First saw this.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Maybe the First saw nothing. Maybe it\u2019s just a forgotten dream. If all people forget some event, does it mean it ceases to exist?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You have become weak and apprehensive, and you cannot lose. If the prophecies about the future empire are forgotten by all, then yes, it will cease to exist.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, I will not lose. Save this Lena; do not let them take her life.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I cannot and have no right; I might be discovered.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Be careful.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 This Lena means nothing compared to the price of our defeat. They have taken a billion lives and will take billions more; why worry about one.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 She is important to him, and he is me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You have forgotten that the fate of your homeland\u2014the Empire of a thousand planets\u2014is the most important thing. Do you remember?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 This empire is as much a ghost as I am. A forgotten dream of that man. Free Lena, show her another future. Otherwise, I will simply dissolve into nothingness, and there will be no endless war.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I already said I can't. What difference does it make what she sees? Let it be a future where you become her hero, save her from Arumov, and take her to a little white house by the mountain lake. It is unattainable for both her and you. All she can do is come here over and over to see a dream that is so easy to believe in, but does not exist. Forget it, she has no future of her own; she is a foolish, beautiful flower that will be picked and trampled like others like her. Don't seek a source of strength where it cannot exist.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Then let her just forget everything and leave.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 She will definitely come back, in a month or in half a year, with someone else. The servant was right.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let her not come back, make her.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You know it\u2019s impossible.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You keep talking about the great war and saving the great empire, but you don't want to save even one person. We're just hanging around here watching the endless stream of people go to be fed to demons, and we do nothing. When will the battle begin? How will a ghost, deprived of even a drop of courage, win in a great war?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You are the blood and flesh of the empire, its true beginning. The spark that glimmers in the icy desert, the spark from which the flame of the empire will ignite again and turn all enemies, both external and internal, to ash. It is useless to fight demons; it\u2019s like trying to swat all the flies; there will be no fewer of them. We must destroy the possibility of their emergence. When the true enemy reveals himself, we will strike and destroy him. And demons are false enemies; by entering into a senseless war with them, we will be buried under a mountain of their corpses and achieve nothing.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So maybe it\u2019s time to seek the true enemy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You have forgotten everything the first one taught. The true enemy cannot be sought; he always comes by himself, for we need him just as much. And seeking him only creates false enemies.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, I forgot everything and almost faded away. Understand this: only my voice remains, barely heard by just one person. I need to find something that justifies my existence! Otherwise, I\u2019m just a forgotten dream!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If there is no true enemy, then yes. But there is one, and because of that, you will never disappear.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Then let him show up already! Where is he hiding?! Who is he?!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The red glow of the demonic world trembled and cracked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We are the guardians of the shadow world, and your beloved friend Max is the former lord of shadows. His precious quantum project turned into a pile of unsorted junk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Here is your true enemy,\" whispered a ghostly voice to Denis.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A familiar nasty face with a scar moved in close.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you satisfied?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Memories of forgotten dreams, demons, and a millennium of war surged into consciousness as a continuous stream, causing physical pain. Denis curled up on the asphalt, nearly drowning in this flood. He couldn\u2019t understand who he was, where he was, and what was happening.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, you wimp, stop crawling over there, \u2014 the creaky voice of Tom echoed again. \u2014 It won\u2019t help. I told you not to play with me, now get up and face death like a man.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis struggled to rise to his hands and knees, shaking his head in confusion and vomited right onto Tom's shoes. Tom jumped back with a stream of curses, while one of the brutes kicked Denis in the side, sending him flying.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What an animal, now he\u2019s going to mess everything up. And what did the boss say about dealing with him quickly, \u2014 Tom continued to complain. \u2014 I\u2019ll make him clean it all up.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Somewhere nearby, Lenochka was strangling out a muffled scream, as two other brutes tried to stuff her into a car. She bit the hand covering her mouth, and for a second the suffocated squeak turned into a frantic scream. But no one in the parking lot in front of the Dreamland dome rushed to help. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Liss, Roger, what are you digging around for? If I have to pay the guards again, I\u2019ll deduct it from your share.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, foreman, she seems to want to say something. She\u2019s shaking her head\u2026 Are you going to stop yelling, chick?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, what did she want?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't touch him, \u2014 Lenochka sobbed, \u2014 I\u2026 I will tell Andrey and he...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What is he, an idiot? What are you going to tell him? That you wanted to jump on some worthless lieutenant, but Tom came and ruined everything? Come on, I\u2019m interested to hear this.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have more friends, you\u2019ll regret this! Bastard, let me go!..<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, Lenusik, it\u2019s better for you not to open your mouth again, it\u2019s obviously only good for one thing. Take her to the boss.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The screaming Lena was shoved into the pickup, and it took off quickly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You disappointed me again, you were asked to complete a simple task for the boss, and instead, you decided to screw his woman. Why are you silent, bastard? Vovan, search him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To Denis's shame, Vovan almost immediately found yesterday's note from Max in his back pocket, which he simply forgot to hide or destroy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You should have searched him right away.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, smart guy, you should have. Why didn\u2019t you search him?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then Vovan unloaded Denis's pockets, tablets, keys, and other small items. Tom merely snorted derisively when he saw the second tablet, and after reading the note, he grinned and immediately put it away.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Everything turned out just as well as possible. Now we won\u2019t need your help; we'll deal with Max ourselves.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0His mind cleared a bit, and Denis's short-term memory returned. He remembered how he offered to give Lena a ride after that stupid stunt with the 'wells of wishes'. Coming to his senses, Denis immediately tried to express all his skepticism regarding Dreamland and its far-fetched tales, but Lena put a finger to his lips, and they didn\u2019t say another word. It seemed that Lena genuinely believed in this clich\u00e9d, saccharine dream of heroism and a white house by the lake. She was practically glowing with happiness, and despite all the skepticism, Denis had to admit that he enjoyed this joy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As they approached the car, annoyingly parked deep in the lot by the overpass columns, a nearby small van and pickup suddenly roared to life and blocked their path. The goons in masks jumped out and grabbed Denis. Following them, Tom appeared, his face distorted with rage, and announced that the game was over. Kolyan took the money, sent the order to Siberia, but then got scared and decided, just in case, to check with Tom's crew that Denis had ordered a mountain of weapons with their full approval, just in case.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"That's it, you had a chance to trade your worthless life for your friend, - Tom hissed, - but apparently you chose to fight. Maybe sclerosis has tortured you, you forgot about my little gift. You know, if you release poison in small doses, a person dies much slower and in terrible agony. Or did you find someone else who would try to take us down? Who is this crazy bastard? No, I actually respect that, so you have two minutes and a last wish.\" Denis shrugged and asked, \"Who are you and what do you want from Max?\" Upon hearing the answer, he fell to the ground, his consciousness turning inside out. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Access to the 'Hive' system activated. Find the basic kit of the system for further instructions,\" a ringing female voice said. The owner of the voice sat on the hood of Denis's car, pouting her lips, surveying the battlefield. She was tall, slender, dressed in a form-fitting stylish military uniform and high-heeled boots. Her long nails with bright polish resembled artificial claws more than natural ones. Her face was pale, almost white, slightly elongated, with huge clear blue eyes, and her hair was gathered in a heavy silver braid, with ribbons woven into it. Due to her unnatural pallor and the severity of her features, it was hard to call her beautiful, but her appearance exuded the predatory grace of a valkyrie, ready to tear apart the souls of defeated enemies.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - Who are you?! - Denis asked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - I am Sonya Diamond - the queen of the hive. Don\u2019t you remember anything?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - My head is a complete mess. Do something, they're about to finish me off!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - I need the hive. The more system kits you find, the more options we'll have.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - And how do you think I'm going to find it after I\u2019m dead?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - Yeah, that didn't work out well. But you wanted battle, and here it is. Fight! You are the last soldier of the Empire and have no right to lose.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - Brigadier, what's he rambling about to himself? - one of the remaining thugs named Vovan asked in shock.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - He's either pretending to be crazy, or he's really lost his mind. We overestimated him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 - Well, we've killed someone before, and I've heard all sorts of things, but I don't recall anything like this. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him about us.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No one has asked you yet. What difference does it make what he heard? He won't tell anyone anyway, \u2014 Tom seemed a bit confused himself. \u2014 Taras, where's the remote?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The previously uninvolved muscleman pulled out a large khaki tablet from the van, encased in metal with a retractable antenna.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sweet dreams, \u2014 Tom muttered.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You won't lure Max out like that. It's too late to hesitate.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019re really starting to annoy me, \u2014 with those words, Tom pulled a fearsome-looking hunting knife from his waist. \u2014 I guess I\u2019ll have to make a bit of a mess.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I gave Kolyan fifty grand to go to Korolev and send a message to Rudeman Saari. As for the weapon, he ordered it himself; he seems to owe someone local and wanted to pay them off. Sorry, but I might have told you a little white lie.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What does he owe to any locals? What are you talking about!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I came here to deliver Max a response from Rudeman Saari. You read it \u2013 it\u2019s a real way to send a secret message to someone with a Telecom chip \u2013 a Dreamland sticker.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what\u2019s the response?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let\u2019s resume the deal under the same conditions.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I've never seen such a brazen jerk!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tom seemed genuinely furious, almost frothing at the mouth. He jabbed the knife into Denis's eye but didn't have time to take more decisive action.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It\u2019s time to leave, \u2014 Vovan buzzed again. \u2014 Come on, either let\u2019s release the toxin or chat somewhere else.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tom turned to him like a coiled spring, and for a second it seemed like he would start slashing at his own subordinate.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, load this puke up; we're going to have a talk with Kolyan. We really have nothing to do this evening.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Denis's hands were forced behind his back, handcuffed, and thrown into the van. Lying face down was extremely uncomfortable, especially with Tom\u2019s vomit-stained boots trampling right in front of his nose. Vovan and Taras pulled off their masks and settled in the seats opposite.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, foreman, \u2014 Denis spoke up. \u2014 Give me some water to drink.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Shut your mouth.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tom stomped on Denis\u2019s head with a mocking grin, pushing him into the dirty floor.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Not a bad idea, \u2014 the valkyrie casually settled into the seat next to Tom. \u2014 But as you understand, \u2014 this is just a delay until they start shaking your drug dealer down.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Can you handle the poison?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, right now I'm just a piece of your brain. But a swarm can do almost anything.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What's a swarm?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The latest generation combat information system. In short, a swarm is a swarm. When you see it, you'll understand everything immediately.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Vovan and Taras exchanged glances, and Vovan, taking out some tape, tried to seal Denis's mouth.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Did anyone ask you to butt in? \u2014 growled Tom.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 This is really starting to get on my nerves.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don't care what annoys you. Let him talk. Who are you chatting with, buddy?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have an invisible friend, what's the problem? I wanted to discuss the situation with him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s this swarm about?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A swarm is a swarm. Mosquitoes, bees, and all that.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If I were you, I wouldn\u2019t be messing around. You\u2019re behaving very badly, not keeping promises, constantly lying. The fact that we\u2019ve become enemies is entirely your fault. But as long as you\u2019re alive, there might be a chance to make things right.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I hardly think I\u2019ll stay alive.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, if you really try, who knows.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just a moment, I\u2019ll consult with my invisible friend.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 By the way, you don\u2019t have to annoy these nice guys. I live in your head and can read thoughts perfectly well, \u2014 Sonia Diamond said with an innocent look.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Couldn\u2019t you say that right away?\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Why would I? It was quite amusing.\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"So you\u2019re having fun, I see.\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"So what now, should I cry? A twist of fate should be met with a smile.\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Could you get out of my head?\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"If you find me a new body, I\u2019d be happy to. Your Lena would do just fine. She has a lovely body, doesn\u2019t she?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Don\u2019t even think about it.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Alright, look for someone else, \u2014 the Valkyrie agreed indifferently. \u2014 Preferably a young woman, of course.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What exactly are you?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"You really don't remember anything? We\u2019ve had countless casual conversations on various topics in your dreams over the years.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Yes, now I remember them. But it's still just dreams. I can barely recall what we discussed.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Strange, that shouldn\u2019t be the case. Your memory should have fully restored. I feel like we know a lot less than we\u2019re supposed to.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Apparently, something else went wrong.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"I am a transneural entity. I can live on any biological carrier that supports higher nervous activity. Right now, I have to lease part of your gray matter. When we find the swarm, I can choose any other person or several, but for now, we\u2019re in the same boat; if you die, I die too.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Wonderful, and who am I supposed to be?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abYou are the blood and flesh of the empire, its true beginning...\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Stop buttering it up. Answer me properly.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Actually, that's the best answer. You are not such a simple phenomenon. But if you want, you are a class zero agent.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"So am I supposed to save Mother Russia now? Defeat all the Martians?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"You must destroy the true enemy and revive the Empire of a thousand planets.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"And what is your role in this operation? To nag in my head so I don't forget about the great mission?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"I control the swarm.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"So you will be calling the shots?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"You will give the orders, I am needed for assistance. I am the mind of the swarm, which will plan its multiplication and development. I will free you from a million routine operations. You won't be studying how the swarm is structured and how it functions, will you?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Why not? I'm ready to broaden my horizons.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I am a specially constructed mind for these tasks, with the memory of thousands of specialists who developed this weapon. Your task is to fight the true enemy.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"And why don't you fight it yourself?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"If I fight and achieve victories, then it will be the Empire of Sonya Diamond, not the Empire of humans. Isn't that right?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Probably. So you do everything I say?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Yes, as long as you remain loyal to the Empire, I will be nothing more than a faithful instrument.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Alright, we will return to this conversation if we survive. What does this swarm at least look like? What should we be searching for?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Most likely, a railway or automotive container; they've been hidden in the state reserves. Inside are crates with products or ammunition for camouflage. One or several crates constitute a package with a high degree of biological protection for the nest of the swarm. Anyone other than a class zero agent who opens the package will be infected and subsequently eliminated.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"And what, these containers have just been gathering dust for thirty years in some abandoned warehouse?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abWell, partly yes. I know the approximate locations and signs to look for them. If we had a couple of days...\u00bb.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Our only, elusive chance is somehow to lure Tom to such a container. Do you know anything nearby?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Not in Moscow, it's a very dangerous storage place. And in any case, my information could be outdated by several decades.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then our great war will end in about twenty minutes in Kolyan's den. And it seems the end will be very unpleasant.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The Emperor's predictions are on your side. You will win.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Seriously? Let me have a heart-to-heart with Tom, maybe he'll switch to our side or at least show some interest?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No, he\u2019s the enemy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Is he now my true enemy? Sure, he\u2019s a real jerk, but I'm not in a position to get hung up on some existential rivalry. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He's not a true enemy. He's just another servant, just at a higher rank. Your true enemy is the master of shadows.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Max?!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Well, if he\u2019s the master of shadows, then yes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Great, so I'm going to be chopped up because I didn\u2019t want to hand over my true enemy to his servants? Something about this puzzle isn\u2019t fitting.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It happens.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What\u2019s this nonsense about the shadow world? Who is Tom? What do you know about him and Arumov?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I can't say, I'm only sure he's an enemy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now\u2019s not the time to be vague or play games. We\u2019re supposedly in the same boat!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I\u2019m not being vague. Without the swarm, my functions and memory are extremely limited, just fragmented knowledge and activation codes. But judging by your memory, Arumov might have access to the empire's secrets.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yeah, he was talking about a container that ate someone back in his wild youth.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Let's try to find him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sure, no problem, as soon as we deal with pretty boy Tom and his nanobots. I\u2019ll talk to Tom. Arumov certainly didn\u2019t push this cart for nothing; maybe we can come to an agreement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No, if the enemies take control of the swarm, the Empire will lose.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And to hell with it. You know, I\u2019ve been thinking and I\u2019ve decided that I don\u2019t want to die a painful death.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It's within my power to grant us a quick death.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Is that a threat?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No, just a possibility. There\u2019s still time, think about it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The van slowed down, apparently at some traffic light. It was getting dark outside. Occasionally, distant honks and wails of sirens reached Denis. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You\u2019ve gotten quiet, buddy, Tom creaked again. By the way, we are approaching. Do you want to take one last look at the Rusakovskaya embankment? Although half the streetlights in this hole don't work, you can\u2019t see anything. Kolyan has a great basement in a neighborhood where almost no one lives, and we have a long night ahead. Maybe you\u2019ll talk this way. What's with all the dirt, tears, severed fingers?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No problem, what shall we chat about?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019ve become quite talkative all of a sudden. Don\u2019t be so scared, we usually don\u2019t start off on the wrong foot. You definitely lied about Kolyan. I know that jerk, he would never dare use me to deal with you and come out unscathed. He gets scared just seeing me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What made you think he\u2019s waiting for us?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I told him not to move. I bet a million that he\u2019s right where he is because you\u2019re lying and he has nothing to be afraid of. He\u2019ll return our money \u2014 and let him live.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Taras climbed into the driver's seat, disabling the autopilot. The car started moving and rolled forward, slightly bouncing on the bumpy road.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 First, share with me, who were you chatting with? You do have the neurochip, right?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I was just pretending, wanted to act tough.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 More lies. You\u2019re going to regret that soon.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019re not going to achieve anything. I can die by my own choice, so let\u2019s negotiate. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Really?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There are devices that are activated by mental codes. We used to bring them from Siberia.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, let\u2019s see, \u2014 Tom shrugged. \u2014 Your chatter doesn\u2019t interest me that much. Do you have the guts to kill yourself?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tom abruptly positioned Denis in a sitting position and shoved a tablet with an antenna in front of him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Want to take a look at the source of your troubles? This little red dot here \u2014 that\u2019s you. I select it, and there are its properties. I can kill you instantly, slowly, or disable you piece by piece: arms, legs, vision. Very convenient, bloodless, and importantly, no one will understand what happened.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A network call distracted Tom from his favorite descriptions of cruel fates and punishments.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What do you mean she popped out at the traffic light?! \u2014 he barked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don\u2019t care that you two idiots can\u2019t keep track of a woman.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No more she\u2019ll come back on her own, the boss said to bring her back. Search using the tracker.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For a while longer, Tom continued to scold his negligent subordinates.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Any problems? \u2014 Denis inquired politely.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Compared to yours, it\u2019s just trifles. By the way, you really put your girlfriend in a tough spot.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What made you say that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The boss doesn\u2019t like it when someone has their eyes on his property.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 After I sort things out with you, we\u2019ll discuss with Arumov who owns what.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 An empty threat, \u2014 Tom smirked. \u2014 But I'll tell the boss there's another good way to crack you. Otherwise, it looks like you\u2019re planning to die here.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Lena has nothing to do with this, leave her alone.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, of course, buddy, don\u2019t worry.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis realized he was making things worse and fell silent.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCan you at least contact someone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI repeat, I\u2019m just a piece of your brain. And who do you want to contact?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSemyon, so the replicant can try to help Lena.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou found something to worry about. If you want to help her, better keep quiet and think about how to escape Tom and find the container.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMaybe I really have gone insane? This voice in my head is useless.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cFind the swarm and you\u2019ll see what I\u2019m worth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI won\u2019t find anything anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis mentally shrugged it all off and tried to get comfortable. And immediately received a jolting kick from Tom.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, don\u2019t relax. We\u2019re almost there.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For the next couple of minutes, Denis only thought about how to keep his limbs intact, bouncing in the van over the familiar bumps.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Something\u2019s not right with Kolyan, \u2014 Taras remarked, parking on the side of the road. \u2014 Should we try approaching from another side?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I beg you. You think he\u2019s waiting for us with a gun?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who knows.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Grab the armor and go first.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis was pushed out of the car. It was dark and quiet, the familiar sign 'Computers, Components' was off, just like the streetlights. Only two windows on the upper floor near the edge were lit. While the puffing Taras struggled in the dark with his vest, Denis enjoyed the cool evening air and looked around. His knees weren\u2019t trembling too much, but he couldn't come up with anything smart, and Tom standing behind him was ready to twist his arms at the slightest careless move. Tom himself pulled a semi-automatic shotgun from under the seat, while his goons settled for handguns.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cTime to say goodbye, Sonya Diamond.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo, it can\u2019t end so easily.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Inside the shop, the light was also off. The door was unlocked, and the two fighters carefully slipped inside.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Kolyan, what kind of tricks are these?! \u2014 Tom barked into the darkness, crouching by the door and laying Denis on the floor.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The circuit board burned out, \u2014 a muffled voice came from the basement. \u2014 Come down.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you completely out of your mind, get up now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I can\u2019t, I\u2019m stuck.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Where the hell are you stuck, you idiot?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 At the panel where there's a hole in the floor. I keep the keys there and set a trap against thieves, and I forgot about it myself\u2026 Please help.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why didn't you call?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There\u2019s no signal down here in the basement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Does he have a signal in his basement? \u2014 Vovan hissed in the dark.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I think I remember, \u2014 Tom hissed back. \u2014 Hey, Denis, are you aware of what's going on? It's the perfect time to start cooperating; it'll count for you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No idea. Take off the handcuffs; I\u2019ll go check.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, right, like that's going to happen.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Tom, please! Help me, I can't feel my hand anymore, \u2014 Kolya's whining voice sounded again. \u2014 It's crushed so badly!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Okay, Taras, go look by yourself, \u2014 Tom ordered. \u2014 Turn on the flashlight, check everything carefully.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019ll be a perfect target with this flashlight.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is this your first time? I'll write a bonus if necessary. But wait, Vovan, go grab the thermal imager from the car.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You said not to take unnecessary things: the job shouldn\u2019t take more than an hour, just to transport the body.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 My hands won't fall off; thanks for at least bringing the weapons. Come on, Taras, move.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We're going down! \u2014 Tom shouted into the darkness.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI wonder what's happening down there, \u2014 Denis thought feverishly. \u2014 Maybe Semyon decided to help. His telepathic cats could have seen what's going on, or do I need to fall asleep hugging Adek? Ah well, nothing to lose.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 He's alone! \u2014 Denis shouted with all his might.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And immediately received a powerful blow to the back of the neck that made his vision waver.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I told you to tape his mouth, \u2014 Vovan hissed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019ll tape it now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A terrible crash, crackling, and curse-laden screams came from the basement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s going on?! \u2014 Tom shouted.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just a bunch of crap piled up!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is it clear in there? <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, I see no one here. And how did this idiot manage to get stuck in there?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Immediately after, Kolya's desperate scream was heard.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I can't pull him out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let him stay for now. What's going on with the panel?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's all black. Looks like it burned out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Got it, we\u2019re going down too. A total mess, damn it. Vovan, go ahead.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Vovan turned on the flashlight and went behind the counter. Tom lifted the swaying prisoner and nudged him in the right direction.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Move it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tom didn't turn on the flashlight and kept the shotgun over Denis's shoulder, using it for cover. After a short descent, they found themselves in front of rows of shelves that extended deep into the basement. Behind the far-right row, near the wall, the beam of Taras's flashlight flickered. Broken shelves and a pile of debris lay at the entrance between the wall and the shelves. Clearly, Taras didn't want to make himself a target until the last moment and was trying to feel his way through.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Vovan, shine the light more carefully on all the passages.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tom slung the shotgun over his shoulder and entered the passage by the wall. He made Denis sit next to the toppled shelf. Kolyan was in an unnatural position, kneeling a bit further away. His right hand was indeed hidden somewhere in a large hole.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, Taras, grab the saw, we need to rescue our comrade, \u2014 Tom commented on the situation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you crazy, maybe it\u2019s better to just shoot him so he doesn\u2019t suffer.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, it happened by accident, why are you laughing, \u2014 Kolyan's offended voice was heard.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The beam of the flashlight illuminated his pale narrow face with wide, darting eyes and a large bruise on his forehead.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 When did you manage to bust your forehead?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Right here, I fell, \u2014 Kolyan answered with a nervous, wavering voice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tom skeptically lowered the shotgun from his shoulder, and just then the sound of items hitting the floor rang out, particularly loud in the confined space.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 These are grenades! \u2014 Taras screamed desperately. At the same time, one of the shelves collapsed onto the militants, followed by a quiet pop, and then Tom's shotgun thundered, sending a cloud of debris from the falling shelf.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis pushed himself away with all his might, trying at least to jump over the toppled shelf. But jumping from a seated position with his hands tied behind him wasn\u2019t very convenient, and he landed face down on a pile of shelves and computer junk, nearly smashing his head. The explosion and flash caught up with him at the same moment. Denis dazedly shook his head, trying to understand which parts of his body were still with him. He was clearly moving, as a strong hand was dragging him along the wall.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don\u2019t struggle, those were flash drives, \u2014 yelled a voice from his unexpected rescuer, drowning out the ringing in his ears.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The shotgun barked again. The spray of pellets went off in a completely different direction, but the man behind fell to the floor in a disciplined manner.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, ghouls, I said to surrender, I said to drop your weapons. We see you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The voice broke through the ringing in Denis's ears and sounded familiar to him. Vague guesses began to form in his buzzing head.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who the hell are you?! Do you know who you messed with?! Taras, do you see anything? Break through to the exit!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Taras let out an incoherent roar and charged forward like a wounded bull. The crashing of the beleaguered shelves echoed, a flashlight beam flickered, and then two shots were heard. The flashlight went out, and Taras's body crashed into the next row of computer junk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 A-a-ah, bastards! \u2014 yelled half-blind and half-stunned Tom, starting to fire the shotgun, clearly at random. Immediately, the sound of a falling grenade was heard. Denis rolled over, pressing his nose to the floor, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. The next flash made the shotgun fall silent.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Stop shooting, you promised to talk and that\u2019s it! \u2014 Kolyan screamed in despair.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who are you?! Who the hell are you!? I\u2019ll blast Kolyan\u2019s head off right now!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don\u2019t shoot! \u2014 Kolyan rasped from the darkness.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The god of death will take everyone! \u2014 the rough voice sounded again, now distinctly laced with completely inappropriate amusement.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, Fedor, \u2014 said the man lying next to him. \u2014 We really promised. Come on, Tom, drop your weapon, let\u2019s talk. Do you hear! Drop your weapon!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's the simple-minded Fedor and his crazy buddy Timur, spot on, \u2014 Kolyan rasped clearly in the ensuing silence.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then a shotgun flew into the passage.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, let\u2019s talk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The god of death is disappointed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0All joy drained from the voice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 His disappointment won\u2019t last long, you halfwit. I\u2019ve long been trying to get you two handed over; you\u2019ve already shown off too much. But now there's no need to ask anyone; I\u2019ll hang you both by your balls along with your whole battalion.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Empty threat, \u2014 Denis hissed. \u2014 You won\u2019t hang anyone anymore.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You really don\u2019t know much, Denis.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Throw me the handcuff keys and the tablet. Timur, take his tablet from him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What tablet?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tom was fidgeting in the darkness, and Denis got genuinely scared.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Take it faster, before he wakes up!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thank goodness, Timur stopped asking questions; he dashed to the last row of shelves and knocked one of the remaining items outside. Another shadow darted after him. Dull thuds and Tom's hissing were heard.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A powerful lamp illuminated the devastated half of the basement. Taras lay belly-down on the toppled, blood-soaked shelf. The inertia of his massive body pushed the shelf forward, scattering computer debris in a fan across the aisle. A huge hole gaped in Taras's skull. Vovan lay on his back closer to the exit, awkwardly bending his legs, with a similar hole where his eye should have been.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The lamp also lit up the two unexpected rescuers, Denis, who was well acquainted with them from his trips to Siberia. Timur had quite a few taiga hunters in his lineage, either Yakuts or Buryats by nationality. From his ancestors, he inherited narrow eyes, a low-set stocky build, and unparalleled hunting skills. He was unmatched in camouflage, tracking, and sniping. He could lie in the snow for days, waiting for his prey, always hitting it directly in the eye. This was his signature style and a source of special pride, which many secretly mocked. But few dared to openly mock Timur\u2014he was not so squeamish when hunting two-legged game. The last time Denis heard about him, Timur had been appointed platoon commander in the Zarya battalion, which was occupying the relatively intact town of Tavda amidst the ruins of Tyumen.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The hefty Fyodor was a striking example of why one should think twice before joining the Eastern Bloc. The entire left side of his skull had been replaced with a titanium prosthetic, as had his left arm and both legs below the knee. After fleeing from the local 'lord of death,' his mental state wasn't exactly stable either. However, he shot remarkably well and handled machinery even better, able to figure out any complex contraption without a manual. Apparently, the metallic parts of his body connected him to all things iron. But interacting with living beings was a challenge for him. In conversations, he followed principles known only to him, and could, without uttering a word, maim or kill anyone he pointed to with his inner 'god of death.' He also lacked a sense of normality; he could zone out for hours, staring at beautiful flowers, or suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter in the midst of battle.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Both were clad in armored suits with passive exoskeletons and universal helmets with visors already raised. In their hands, the Siberian brothers held brand new vampires. Fyodor had an AK-85 slung behind him, complete with an under-barrel launcher and a combined sight.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Timur laid a familiar green tablet with a metallic casing on the floor.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 This one?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, that's the one.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Timur stepped behind Denis and removed the handcuffs from him, then tossed them to Fyodor so he could restrain Tom. Denis struggled to get up, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, and tried to stanch the blood from his broken nose after the fall. The ringing in his ears had almost subsided, as the flashbangs weren't particularly powerful.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No water, need a drink?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Here you go. Why do you need the tablet?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That bastard injected me with toxic robots that are controlled from this tablet. I hope he didn't send any message through the neural chip to have another freak finish me off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hope, hope, Denis.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 He won't send anything. We're not idiots either; Fyodor brought a jammer, it automatically scans the range, so there shouldn't be any problems. Is there a signal?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, it seems there isn't.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, that means you're safe for now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 For not long though; the robots will automatically release poison in two hours if there's no signal. How did you end up here?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Just passing through. Aren't you glad to see us?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have never been so happy to see someone in my life. But still, why did you come?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 To find out how my old friend is doing. At first, Kolyan placed a crazy order for a mountain of weapons in your name, and then those scumbags wrote to the commander and abruptly canceled everything. So I decided to check what's going on, luckily we were nearby. And Kolyan is Kolyan; it's not that hard to get him to cooperate, especially with Fedya.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What, did your halfwit hit you on the head for a long time? Is this, seriously, your personal initiative? \u2014 Tom grumbled again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Not exactly, of course. The commander asked me to convey that we want to reconsider the terms of cooperation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We will be reconsidering them with the new commander in a negative direction. Unless, of course, you're lying and you didn't come up with this yourself. Although, in any case, if the commander can't control his men, what the hell do we need him for?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Timur approached Tom, who was hunched over on the floor, and knelt down to look him straight in the eyes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I knew it. I'll pass everything along. You know, I'm tired of watching my brothers die and crawl on all fours in front of scum like you. And Denis is also my brother. We walked through the wastelands together, we went to that 'lord of death' from the Eastern bloc together. It was very scary in their dungeons. But did you, Dan, get scared? No, you weren't scared, and I'm not some mangy dog who fears anyone who barks loudly and grimaces. Maybe I'm not that intimidating and I don't have a collection of severed ears. I just make notches on my rifle, and God sees, I've sent quite a few fierce and dangerous ones to the land of eternal hunting. I know you can track and kill any beast; you just need to find the right approach. And those who are lazy and don't want to try choose their own fate.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, keep talking, you all chatter a lot and tell unbelievable things about yourselves. But before you die, you sing the same tune.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, Fedya, stop with him; it's time to shove off.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis jumped to Fedya and pulled the rifle barrel aside.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How do you turn off the nanobots?!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That's a quest, Denis. Try to solve it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 He won't tell, Dan, \u2014 Timur shook his head. \u2014 Breaking him is pointless; it's just a waste of time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The god of death has come for you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I've seen your god of death many times.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Tom showed not a trace of fear or confusion, looking down the barrel of the aimed rifle.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fedor pressed the trigger, and Tom's brains splattered against the basement wall.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Damn frostbitten idiots! I will never deal with you again, \u2014 Kolyan yelled in a cracked falsetto. \u2014 Get me out of here, finally.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The dealer has no one left to deal with; he is now the enemy of the ghouls, \u2014 Fedor reported without any hesitation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He inserted a long key into the hole, there was a click, after which Kolyan pulled his hand back and hurriedly crawled away from the corpse, then began to rub his injured limb.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is blood coming out of my ears? I think I've been concussed! Do you have at least a cotton ball or a band-aid?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Your ears are fine, calm down, \u2014 Timur grumbled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you think this is beautiful? \u2014 Fedor asked, sitting down next to Kolyan.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What? Brains on the wall?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you find it disgusting? \u2014 Fedor clarified with a strange, absent-minded tone.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Kolyan turned even paler.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 E-e-eh\u2026 no, it's beautiful, of course\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you really see it, or are you lying to me?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fedor, stop; no one but you sees the beauty of death, \u2014 Timur came to the rescue.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No, I don\u2019t see it either. I\u2019m trying very hard, but I lack faith.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fedor continued to examine the corpse for some time, sometimes backing away and then getting almost close enough to touch it. He even tried to sniff.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So what\u2019s next? \u2014 Denis asked. \u2014 Did you have any kind of plan?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The plan was simple: find out what happened to you. And now it\u2019s even simpler: we go home and prepare for war.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You know perfectly well that you can't win! \u2014 Kolyan lamented again. \u2014 Didn't previous attempts teach you anything?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The situation has changed; now the fight will be even. Come on, get ready; we'll take you with us. Here, you\u2019re already a walking corpse. Fedor, help him get ready.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I don\u2019t need any help! I can manage on my own.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Kolyan immediately started fidgeting and running around the shelves with his favorite junk.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You'll take half an hour to gather. Come on, move; the god of death doesn\u2019t like to wait, \u2014 Timur chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You shouldn\u2019t have killed him so quickly, \u2014 Denis chimed in. \u2014 If the tablet is password-protected, I\u2019m done for. Kolyan, where are the keys to your shack?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why do you need them?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fedor's titanium hand grabbed Kolyan by his clothes, stopping his aimless running.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 The keys and two minutes, just the essentials.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fortunately for Denis, the tablet unlocked with the fingerprint; Tom's dead hand solved the problem. After getting the keys, he turned to Timur.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Where's the jammer? I need to head to the secure room; I'll try to add a few more hours to my life.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m with you. Fyodor, finish up and get to the car.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Timur tore away part of the wall, which immediately dulled and turned into a chameleon cloak-tent. From the open niche, he retrieved a fairly large electronic device with multiple antennae.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you think the tablet will work directly without a base station? \u2014 he asked as they shut themselves in the secure room. \u2014 I'm turning off the jammer.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let's check, turn it off \u2014 Denis replied, digging into the tablet's settings with slightly trembling hands.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The waking crazy voices in his head immediately quieted down; this apparently meant the tablet was working and directly. After fiddling with the settings, Denis discovered the operating modes of the nanobots. He was very afraid that he would need to enter some other password to confirm the operations. But seemingly, it worked out. The only displayed green dot turned gray after the nanobots were put into sleep mode.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Timur, can I carry this thing around? I feel like a diabetic without insulin without it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Keep in mind, diabetic, the battery will last for another ten hours. Then you'll need a normal outlet; the one in the car won't work. Alright, let's go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, I need to make a couple of calls from Kolyan's laptop.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Even a couple? No time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You think they'll notice the fighters so quickly?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I think they already have. Moreover, they might come for our souls themselves.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Meaning, who will come? Tom is lying in the basement with a shot head.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'll explain everything on the way.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Where are we going?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 First to Nizhny. We have a base and a medical center there. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what will your doctors do? Tom said the poison is unique.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Listen, Den, our guys have already fallen for such a hook. It's just a regular FOV; no one will synthesize some special poison each time. In Nizhny, there's our good specialist who will do a complete blood transfusion. He can handle it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Will the transfusion help? Are your guys who fell for it alive?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It varies, but back then we had no idea about such tricks.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Still, it\u2019s too dangerous. Besides, what am I going to do next?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You will swear allegiance to the battalion and fight alongside the others. That\u2019s the fate of a soldier.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have another option, Timur. Help me, you said you\u2019re my brother. Help me, and if I survive, I will help you win the war against Arumov.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Bold promise, you don\u2019t even know anything about him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I will be much more useful than I am now, believe me.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what\u2019s your plan?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We need to take a container of biological weapons from Arumov.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Biological weapons won\u2019t fundamentally solve anything, and you could die from the poison. In the wastelands, many respect you, and I\u2019ll need any support to back my version of this mess.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Your version?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis looked suspiciously into Timur's cunning eyes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, my version. Don\u2019t be a fool, Den, we can\u2019t just show up at the commanders' council and announce that we\u2019ve wiped out Arumov's ghouls without trial or investigation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sorry, of course, but then we should be preparing Kolyan for his final journey, not dragging him with us. He\u2019s too unstable.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019ll hand him over to reliable hands on the way, don\u2019t worry. He\u2019s a valuable source of information.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, still, help me find that container. It will solve the poison issue and many others.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Timur, please, it\u2019s hard to explain and there\u2019s no time. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, alright, where is this container?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019ll try to find out right now.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Keep in mind, the longer we wander around Moscow, the sooner we\u2019ll be found. I will agree to this only on the condition that at the commanders' council you say everything I ask.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What exactly am I supposed to say?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Sorry, there\u2019s no time to explain right now. You will say everything I ask.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis bore into his companion's eyes for a long five seconds. But in Timur's sly, slanted eyes, there was only concerned anticipation.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I hope I won\u2019t regret this.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I\u2019m sure you\u2019ll keep your word. Call.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0At first, Denis tried to talk to Semyon, but he didn\u2019t answer. He had to leave a message briefly describing the situation, without mentioning specific names of the \u201cliberators\u201d, and asking to find out if there\u2019s any commotion at Arumov's house. However, Lapin, despite the late hour, responded immediately.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hi, boss, this is Denis Kaysanov. You said you needed help disposing of some container?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, Dan, is that you? Cool. I've been trying to reach you for three hours. Listen, sorry about what happened with the management. Hope everything is okay?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Everything's fine.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, could you help me out one more time? We are really struggling with this container.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Given his obsequious tone, Lapin was trying once again to save his own skin with someone else's help.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Why's that?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We just need a visa from some representative from INKIS. It's really late now, no one is agreeing, and the management demands it to be done today. Could you swing by Balashiha? You don't live too far...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What's in the container?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, nothing special... Just some waste from experiments, all sorts of garbage... biological. This stuff needs to be destroyed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What's the problem with destroying it?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 We need another representative to be present. Can you come or not?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Is it just garbage? Or could there be some dangerous bacteria, viruses?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What viruses? Where did you get that? There's nothing dangerous there, Lapin immediately became anxious. \u2014 Just garbage.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Hey, Sonya Diamond, you haven't left my head yet?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The Valkyrie immediately materialized and sat on the table, casually stretching her legs out in her boots.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Don't even hope, I'm not a glitch or a madman's delirium.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Any glitch would say the same. What do you think about Lapin?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Decide for yourself. Until we are near the nest, nothing can be said.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, I\u2019ll be there in about forty minutes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Great, you\u2019ll really help me out, truly, \u2014 Lapin began to speak more rapidly, relieved. \u2014 This is in Balashiha near the Gorenki platform, a new disposal plant. I'll tell them to arrange a pass.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis thought it would be good to somehow inform Max about the mix-up with the note. But again, the ominous shadow of the telecom security service didn't really encourage open nighttime conversations, and Denis decided that if something worked out with the swarm, he would just head straight to Korolev and beat Arumov to it, and if it didn't work out, then to hell with it: let Max deal with his own problems. Before heading out, Denis stopped by the basement, grabbed a shotgun and one of the pistols, and then took his belongings from the mercenaries' car. It was dark and quiet outside. No police sirens blared, nor did Arumov's subordinates stomp on the broken asphalt. If the sounds of the slaughter reached any of the nearby residents, they clearly weren't in a hurry to report it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The old UAZ parked in the nearby courtyard sprang to life as soon as they climbed inside. Despite its battered and filthy appearance, the hybrid gas turbine engine operated almost silently. Kolyan complained loudly about their long absence and the prospect of falling straight into the hands of the death squad, which had surely set out to claim their souls, especially if they kept bouncing around the damned Balashikha for the rest of the night.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Kolyan, just shut up already,\" Denis said irritably. \"If you hadn't talked about my order, you could be sitting peacefully now, sorting through your stuff. Timur, you promised to explain what\u2019s wrong with Arumov's mercenaries.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"You seem to be completely out of the loop, don\u2019t you?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Well, after they shut down my and Yan\u2019s little operation, I was out of the game. I\u2019ve heard, of course, that the Siberian battalions are now working with Arumov's people in roughly the same way.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"They are working. But first, there was a small war. We had our own channels to Europe and some other places. And nobody was eager to share with some outsiders. It\u2019s clear that most of the commanders are cowardly bastards; as soon as the heat is on, they\u2019re ready to sell anyone out. But these goons started pulling such stunts when the mess began, you wouldn\u2019t believe it. Even the Eastern bloc is wary of them. Nano-robots \u2014 what, do you know what the main trick is?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What? They resurrect from the dead? That\u2019s nonsense.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Believe it or not. The fact is, they can\u2019t be killed. You wipe out the whole gang, and they show up again in about a week.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You're telling some kind of fairy tales. There aren't such systems, not even for Martians. They say that highly advanced combat cyborgs have all sorts of pumps and aerators that can keep a brain alive for a couple of hours. So, shoot only in the head and burn the bodies as a last resort.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 They chopped off heads, burned them in crematories, tried everything. This Tom was killed three times, in rather sophisticated ways. Still, he shows up again. Moreover, this undead remembers everything that happened right up to the moment of death. So many good people have suffered because of this. Worse yet, we couldn't even find the lair they crawl out of. They just teleport straight from hell.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Timur, you're not messing with me, are you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 If you don't believe me, ask Fedya; he won't lie.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Undead don't die. \u2014 Fedor confirmed. \u2014 It's against all laws; my duty is to return death what belongs to it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Maybe they're some kind of robots?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Maybe. Very clever robots that you can't distinguish from humans. You could burn them in a tightly-shielded dungeon, scatter the ashes in the wind, and still, they'll come back and point at the one who did it. Kolyan will confirm that too.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I haven\u2019t killed anyone! \u2014 Kolyan protested. \u2014 But, of course, strange rumors are circulating.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 In short, the commanders have given up; it's easier to accept their terms.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what changed, then? Is it just because I'm your brother? And you decided to help me as a brother?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 When the deal was made between Arumov and the council of commanders, there was a separate point about you. Comrade Zari and Comrade Harza insisted that you be left alone and even wanted you to stay in business as our overseer. Arumov, of course, sent them away, along with their pathetic attempts to oversee something, but he promised to leave you alone. Essentially, he directly violated the contract.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And the commanders decided to start a war because of this? Did any of them approve this rescue operation?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 They said to go and deal with the problem. Here, as usual, if they draw a crappy card, they'll blame everything on spontaneity and send us to the front lines. But there are a lot of dissatisfied people in the battalions, and this could be the last straw.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Do you hope the army will vote for war? Trying to harness the army's mood isn't always the best way to solve something. You'll get only one chance.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Don't teach me, I've seen how it is. But I'm confident that there are still guys with guts in Siberia who remember that we never surrender. There must be a way to kill the ghouls.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And you know how?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I know a lot, my friend Denis, \u2014 Timur replied vaguely and fell silent.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The newly built white building of the disposal plant was hidden deep in an overgrown park near the railway. However, a faint smell of decay and smoke from the chimneys dramatically revealed its position. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cA perfect spot for a swarm,\u201d commented Sonya Dymon. \u201cThe animal carcasses will be great for hatching the nests.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYes, just the right place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A UAZ with its headlights off quietly approached the turn that opened up the view of the illuminated grating gate.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, one old geezer in the booth, \u2014 commented Fyodor, examining the layout through the combined sight. \u2014 Let's approach quietly, I\u2019ll take him out. Or we can climb over the fence, but there might be an alarm there?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No need to climb anywhere, \u2014 Denis replied. \u2014 I'll just walk in; I should have a pass.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 With a jammer in your backpack? \u2014 Timur asked. \u2014 What if they make you show what's inside?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'll say it's equipment for work. They won\u2019t bother me; it's not a strategic site.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You going alone?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, I\u2019ll first see what my chubby boss brought. If it's some dodgy stuff, I'm out of there and heading to Nizhny. If it's what we need, I hope your help won't be necessary.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, watch yourself. Take the radio just in case, it's in the VHF band; the jammer won't affect it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Timur, besides the radio, pulled out a gray spacious poncho and a balaclava made of metallic fabric with built-in indicators in transparent areas and handed the set to Kolyan.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What\u2019s this for? \u2014 Kolyan protested. \u2014 Don\u2019t put any collars on me; I\u2019m not a dog.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, don't be stubborn, they're just blocking the wireless interface of the chip. There are no bad surprises there.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who do you think I'm going to call, Arumov's people?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who knows who else you're friends with. We can't stand out to anyone \u2014 that's a command order, sorry.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Kolyan, continuing to grumble, pulled on his cloak and balaclava and turned away from the window with a sulky look.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis packed his backpack, checked the round in the chamber, and tucked the pistol into his belt. Exiting the car, he lingered uncertainly for a moment, surveying the brightly lit area in front of the gates. 'Well, I guess I\u2019ll either find a swarm and become the last hope of the Empire, or, more likely, I\u2019ll find a container of dead lab mice and die from the poison myself. One consolation: I can take down that bastard Lapin one last time.'<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How long should I wait for you?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Timur also got out of the car and lit a cigarette, instinctively shielding the flame with his hand.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I think in about twenty to thirty minutes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That\u2019s a long time, well alright\u2026 Come on, don\u2019t stall, either get going or let\u2019s go.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'm coming, give me a cigarette.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0There were no problems at the checkpoint. Anton Novikov immediately rushed over and impatiently pulled Denis inside.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You\u2019re here too? \u2014 Denis was surprised. \u2014 Can\u2019t you just sign the documents?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's more than just signing, \u2014 Anton replied evasively. \u2014 We really can\u2019t do this without you, let\u2019s hurry, everyone\u2019s been waiting.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Who's everyone?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As they approached the entrance to the building, they walked along a high wall from which a persistent stench of decay emanated. The factory was running in semi-automatic mode, and they encountered no one along the way. Only the occasional rustle of forklifts could be heard. Anton pulled out a respirator from somewhere, naturally forgetting to offer a similar device to his companion. Inside, the workshop was also divided in half by a wall with airlocks. Apparently, the corpses of animals and other refuse remained in the other half, while this side was relatively clean. Navigating between the working crushers, bins, and conveyor belts, Anton led them to a far corner of the workshop by the dividing wall. Denis was even more surprised to discover a whole crowd of representatives from INKIS: the twin brothers Kid and Dick, Lapin himself, and a grumpy, bald guy from supply named Oleg. A bit to the side, arms crossed over his chest, stood a tall, thin man in a protective jumpsuit with gray hair and an independent, somewhat arrogant expression. He was introduced as Pal Palych \u2013 the factory engineer. Leaning against the wall was an unremarkable fellow in a similar jumpsuit with a mask respirator pushed up on his forehead. The man had a red, worn-out nose and an absent expression typical of a worker surrounded by a group of bosses, debating for an hour what this worker should do.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The whole crowd of supervisory subjects was walking in circles around a container, about a meter high, covered in quite ominous biological hazard signs.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis struggled to suppress a surge of anger rising in his throat and, putting on the most cheerful and unnatural smile he could muster, asked:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Where should I sign?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, Dan, here's the thing\u2026 We need to get our documents signed, but it has to be done by someone who personally supervised the process\u2026 Basically, it's nothing special, just helping this guy from the factory\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Alright, let's skip the small talk. \u2014 Pal Palych firmly pushed aside the mumbling Lapin and called over the bored Mikhaylich. \u2014 Go with our employee, he\u2019ll give you a jumpsuit. And please, I really ask you, make it quick; I really don't want to be stuck here all night, you know.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 So, what needs to be done?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How so? How so! What are you doing in your INKIS! \u2014 the gray-haired engineer nearly shouted. \u2014 We need to open that damned container in the hermetic zone, sterilize the inner packaging, and then burn its contents.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you sure we should open it? There's biological weaponry there, \u2014 Denis asked, feigning innocence.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And for about ten seconds, he enjoyed watching Pal Palych\u2019s expression transform in disbelief, how he gasped for air, bulged his eyes, turned crimson, and finally unleashed a torrent of incoherent curses towards the frightened Lapin. Immediately, Anton interjected, trying to argue that it was just regular biological waste, making obscene gestures at Denis to signal that he hadn't fully woken up after yesterday's events. This important matter occupied the whole company, and Denis turned to his inner demon.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Is this the required container?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"I don\u2019t know, the outer packaging looks strange. Try inspecting it from all sides.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sonya closely followed Denis during the inspection. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"I\u2019ve checked it, what\u2019s next?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"There should be a special engraving on it, like a factory number. I have all these numbers in my memory.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"There are no numbers here. And it looks too new for an imperial product.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Try to feel it, maybe the engraving has worn away.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"There's nothing more to do than touch a container of biological waste. They'll think I'm a total idiot.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis carefully ran his hand along the almost imperceptible seam of the lid and body and jerked back as if shocked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What was that? Static?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"No \u2014 it\u2019s it! \u2014 Sonya Diamond exclaimed excitedly. \u2014 Look more closely.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis looked at the spot where he had just run his hand and saw a shimmering yellow line, resembling a thin tentacle, going under the lid.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"The hive's signaling system, someone tried to break into the nests, someone without clearance.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Arumov? And then shoved the nests into another package and decided to destroy them?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Possibly.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"And why is he still alive? How could such a terrifying hive mess up like that?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"This is not an absolute weapon, like any other. We must assume the worst, that he knows the hive's capabilities and understands how to defend against it.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYeah, or he just came back to life, if we believe Timur. By the way, are you not aware of resurrections? This is also an imperial invention that hasn't caught on with the masses?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNot aware.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYour favorite answer. Let's unwrap the package?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI hope this swarm figures out that we are on their side. I don\u2019t have any extra lives left.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe has already figured it out, in case you didn\u2019t understand. Touch it again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis skeptically touched the metallic side, instinctively trying to keep away from the yellow tentacle, but it lunged forward to meet his hand.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The bone-chilling winter wind hurled a handful of icy needles into his face, threw them and receded, leaving only a voice and an army lined up on a vast airfield. The voice, thunderous, calling and furious, rolled between the still rows of ghosts in armor, the wind drove snow whirlwinds across the endless concrete field and ruffled the high banner of the Empire against the piercingly blue sky.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou are the soldiers of the empire, the ghosts of those who fell in a millennia-long war. Those who lie in the weeds of the wild fields and in the snow-white fields outside Moscow, those who have descended to the ocean depths, those buried in the crypts of space stations. Hear their voices! The souls of soldiers who fell for the Empire belong to it forever. And your souls belong to it, and your names will forever instill dread in the hearts of its enemies. Cry and weep, deserters and enemies of the Empire, for soon he will be born \u2014 the great spirit of vengeance, the scourge and wrath of God over all races and nations. He sees with a thousand eyes; there is no hiding from him in the depths of caves or on mountaintops. Ash and ruins will he leave of your cities; your bones will crunch under the boots of his army. Your children and your grandchildren, and all your descendants will be born and die in fear of the swarm! And the Empire will live for thousands of years and prosper. Glory to the great empire!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, buddy, don\u2019t touch it, you just said so yourself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sonya Mikhalych, who had passed through, touched Denis' shoulder. Denis recoiled, shaking his head in disbelief, and the vision faded away. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Oh, I mixed it up with another container.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What? \u2014 Pal Palych, who had somewhat cooled down, instantly turned to them. \u2014 Why are you messing with my mind! In short, either you put on your coveralls right now, or get out of the room! I'm really fed up with this. Something happened to the communication, and I'm going to get killed at home.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, I\u2019m telling you, there\u2019s nothing dangerous there, \u2014 Anton jumped in again. \u2014 He\u2019s always mixing everything up, it\u2019s been like this lately\u2026 He needs to drink less.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, why didn\u2019t you go to the hermetic zone yourself? \u2014 Pal Palych asked suspiciously. \u2014 We wouldn\u2019t have been stuck here for three hours.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, I can\u2019t, it's not my position.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Palych, given the situation, it would be good to raise that\u2026 bonus a bit.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mikhailych, with some delay, became aware of the situation and decided to turn it to his advantage.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You should contact INKIS, they pay for this nonsense.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Lapin let out a heavy sigh and handed Mikhailych a card with euro coins, then another one, seeing that he wasn\u2019t falling behind.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And what about my bonus? \u2014 Denis asked straightforwardly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Lapin made an apologetic gesture towards Pal Palych and mumbled something like, \"I apologize, just a moment more,\" and in a heartfelt tone whispered to Denis:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Den, there's such a mess going on, you're my last hope. You see everything, to put it mildly...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are you afraid to open the container?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yes, you've always called things by their names, \u2014 Lapin chuckled nervously. \u2014 You can\u2019t rely on anyone else, only you, I swear. Novikov, at the slightest hint, just disappears. I would have fired him long ago and appointed you, but Arumov won\u2019t allow it. Honestly speaking, I respect you, Den, you\u2019re not afraid of anything. And there\u2019s nothing to be afraid of, all these rumors about some biological weapon are just laughable.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Then why are the signs attached?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How should I know, people from Arumov put them up for some reason. They don\u2019t understand, so they just plastered them all over. What am I supposed to do with this?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Officially dispose of it at some military factory.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What military? \u2014 Lapin waved his hands. \u2014 It will take you two months just to agree on it. It's a five-minute job, just help this Mikhalych take the lid off, and then he can handle it himself. You see, they can't put the whole container in the autoclave. All the biomaterials are still in their inner packaging, so theoretically, nothing can happen. Dan, please, I'll get you a promotion, I swear. My vacation is burning, tickets are bought for tomorrow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 And where are you going on vacation?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, to the Maldives for a week, and then to the dacha, of course, fishing, sauna...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Lapin dreamily rolled his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, then, of course, let me sort this damned container out.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Seriously, will you help?!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Lapin didn't even hide his relief. He clearly had many more empty promises saved up for the fool who would agree to unofficially open a container of questionable biological waste in the middle of the night.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, you\u2019re such a hero, you\u2019re saving me, this is not the first time.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 No problem, vacation is sacred.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A yawning Anton waddled over to Denis, who was putting on a tight suit, and patted him on the shoulder patronizingly.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You are a real hero, Dan. We are all mentally with you. Valer, can I go home already? Why am I stuck here?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, go ahead, \u2014 Lapin waved his hand.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Hold him! \u2014 Sonia Diamond instantly became alarmed. \u2014 No one should leave here until you release the swarm.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"As if I hadn't guessed,\" \u2014 Denis snapped.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Wait, Anton, are you leaving already? I can't manage without your moral support.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come on, Kid and Dick will support you. And I'm going to fall asleep now...<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Anton opened his mouth again so wide he almost dislocated his jaw.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Boss, what\u2019s going on? Either we all stay here together until the victorious end, or I\u2019m not in on this.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Lapin sighed resignedly and reluctantly began to argue with Anton.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"We need to do something!\" \u2014 Sonia Diamond panicked again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Where is your toilet?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Pal Palych waved his hand vaguely somewhere off to the side.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Of course, I'll find it myself.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Stepping out of direct sight, Denis took a radio out of his backpack.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Timur, come in.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Come in! What do you have?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Everything's great, just one request. If you see a black Beemer, sedan, number 140, hold it up. It's my colleague, he wants to leave early.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 How am I supposed to hold him up?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Block the road, turn on the hazard lights.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dan, what if he calls the cops? You took the jammer, but with the new chips it\u2019s easy, just fold your fingers cleverly, and that\u2019s it: dry your bread.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Timur, detain him by any means necessary.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, if anything happens, it's on your conscience.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's on mine. Disengage.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When Denis returned, the container was already loaded onto the hand truck, and Mikhaylych was turning the handle to lock the door to the airlock.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 You can't bring a backpack!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Pal Palych rushed to intercept Denis.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have valuable items in there.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Nobody will touch them, let them stay here. You can't take a backpack in, what's so hard to understand? It will have to be sterilized later.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 That's my problem.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 It's not your problem! In short, you can't enter with a backpack.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Fine, just leave it by the door here.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Nobody will touch it. It's just going to be in the way; everything can stay here.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Entering, Denis discovered a gateway where the inner door slid sideways at the push of a button.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHey, Sonya, I don't like this. There must be cameras; I hope Pal Palych doesn't stupidly lock us in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAre there other options?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOf course, pull out a gun and open the container from the outside.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThere are too many people; you won't be able to control them. And with extra bodies, we\u2019ll have problems.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Reluctantly, Denis stepped onto the smooth, dense linoleum that covered the airlock, which measured about ten by ten meters. The walls were lined with seamless white plastic, and there was a door to another airlock in the right wall. The room housed three autoclaves, a gas stove, and several cabinets with tools.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Mikhaylych, can the airlock be blocked from the outside?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, if you hold the handle, you can. But why? \u2014 came Mikhaylych's voice, muffled by his respirator.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Well, just in case. I wouldn\u2019t want us to be locked in here with something nasty.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What are you, buddy? No one will lock us in. Watched too many movies? There\u2019s the remote; if an emergency happens, you turn on the exhaust to full power and head to the airlock. To the side, there's a button \u2014 it activates the disinfectant shower.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Are there cameras?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 There are, but no one usually watches them. Don\u2019t worry, we won\u2019t get infected. Did you tighten your mask well?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mikhaylych rolled the container almost close to the autoclave, scattered thick napkins around, and began pouring some liquid from a canister over them.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I'll pour the disinfectant all over, just in case, \u2014 he explained. \u2014 After all, you never know.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He then turned the valve on the container, and outside air rushed inside with a hissing sound. When the hissing subsided, Denis saw yellow tentacles emerging from under the lid from all sides.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mihalych handed over the wrench.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Let's take off the lid, unscrew it from your side.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The lid had to be pried with screwdrivers to tear the sealing ring that had stuck to the metal tightly. The metal piece weighed about twenty to thirty kilograms, and if desired, it could easily be handled by one person. 'Mihalych is probably just scared to mess with it alone,' Denis thought. Inside, the container was packed with pieces of adsorbent. Mihalych began carefully pulling it out and stacking it into the furnace, occasionally pouring from a canister. The disinfectant clearly did not please the tentacles; they were twitching but showed no signs of fading; on the contrary, they became brighter and more numerous in Denis's mind's eye. Their pieces, like fringes, hung on Mihalych's suit and spread throughout the room. After a couple of minutes, the nests appeared \u2014 several green cylinders, about the size of a liter bottle, tightly inserted into the container holders. Denis counted fifteen of them; they looked quite old, with peeling paint exposing silver metal in places. Two of the nests were tightly woven with a whole bundle of yellow threads.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hmm, buddy, how many years have these waste materials been around?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 I have no idea.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For a while, Mihalych looked skeptically at the green tubes. But there was nothing to be done; he pulled out another pair of thick rubber gloves from the closet, generously poured disinfectant on them, and transferred the first tube to the autoclave.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Now, listen carefully,\u2019 Sonia began to instruct. \u2018When he turns away, grab the nest, pop the latches, quickly unscrew the lid, and dump the spores on the floor.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Isn\u2019t that a bit too many actions in the three seconds while he turns away?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018And then you rip off his mask.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Well, without that, the great swarm won't be able to handle the pathetic Mihalych?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abThe swarm will need a couple of minutes to break through the defense. It's better to rip off the mask, or better yet, if he inhales, the effect will be instantaneous. Then, we need to open the hermetic zone as quickly as possible, and that's it \u2014 the job's done.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abThe inner lock door is automatic.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abBlock it with something.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mikhalych bent over the container behind the fourth cylinder.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abWhat are you waiting for?! Before he starts the autoclave?\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abMaybe it's better to do it this way than to poison people with unknown imperial crap.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abYou'll die from the poison yourself.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abEveryone will die someday. The swarm will definitely be able to destroy the nanorobots?\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abFor sure. Don't you believe me?\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abOf course, I believe you. How does Arumov know about the swarm? Who is he?\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mikhalych had already moved more than half of the nests and bent down for the next one.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abAre you really going to discuss this now?!\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abI think it's the perfect time. So who is Arumov, who is Max? Why did Tom's words activate me? It's not because of the threat of murder.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abRelease the swarm!\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sonya Diamond screamed so loud that Denis's ears rang. He staggered and grabbed the edge of the container. The taste of blood returned to his mouth.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Hey, dude, what's wrong? Are you feeling bad?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mikhalych jumped back from the container as if scalded.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Yeah, I'm fine, just overdid it yesterday. I went to bed only in the morning. Seriously, it's not infectious, you were the one who was handling those nests.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 What was I handling? \u2014 Mikhalych asked, puzzled.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abOpen up, or it will be too late.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abYou're such a bitch, Sonya Diamond!\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis grabbed one of the nests and tried to pull it out of the holder. It was stuck tight. Denis pulled harder, and with a loud screech, he slightly moved the container with the trolley. Then he grabbed the next flask. Mikhalych froze as if paralyzed, watching this scene. A wild, primal horror was written on his face. The latches came off easily, but the lid was very stubborn. Denis turned halfway and felt he was about to burst from the strain. Mikhalych finally rebooted and sprinted towards the lock with all his strength. He managed to knock him down right at the door. Mikhalych struggled desperately, and when he felt them trying to pull off his mask, he screamed at the top of his lungs.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Dude, what the hell!!! Have you gone completely crazy?! Stop! Let go!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis, in desperation, hit him on the back of the head with the flask, and then again, until Mikhailych went quiet. At that moment, a door trying to close hit him from the side. He crawled forward and finally managed to rip off the lid. Small balls poured out of the flask, which burst upon hitting the floor, releasing clouds of yellow dots.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Take the mask off him, and you take yours off too.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Why should I?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Idiot! Do you want to control the swarm, or not?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mikhailych groaned and tried to get on all fours, but the approaching door thwarted this feeble attempt, knocking him back to the floor. However, he clung to the mask with the desperation of the doomed, forcing someone to hit his fingers with metal. For a while, he still tried to hold his breath, comically reddening and puffing out his cheeks. But after a powerful kick to the stomach, he inhaled and immediately fell silent.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What's wrong with him?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"He'll be under control in a few seconds. Open the outer door.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As soon as Denis grabbed the handle and began to turn it, the siren went off. A growing noise from the ventilation system could be heard behind. <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"We should have closed the inner door after all.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Keep turning the handle!\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Someone clearly leaned on the doorknob from the other side. Denis pressed harder and suddenly realized he was seeing himself from the outside. He saw Mikhail coming up behind him with a blank expression, how the ventilation system roared to life within the hermetic zone, how little bugs clung to the walls and floor, yet some still flew up the wide air ducts and got stuck in the filters. Other smaller bugs crawled into an almost invisible gap between the door frame and the outer door, burrowing into the seal there. He was endowed with a thousand eyes and a thousand hands; he could crawl into any crack, any device, or into anyone's head, while time slowed down at his wish. He saw himself through Mikhail's eyes, took a step forward, stumbled, and fell without even putting his hands out. The pain was merely information; it wasn't his own. He thought it would be good to check the cameras, and immediately his eyes directed themselves inside the devices, trying to understand what circuits were responsible for what. He couldn't make sense of the cameras right away, but the fluorescent lamps were simpler. One movement and the power was shorted. There was a loud bang, sparks fell from the ceiling, and the lights went out. Denis stood for a moment in awe of the new possibilities, completely forgetting about the doorknob. It surged upward and struck his elbow painfully.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What are you doing?!\" Sonya hissed, forming into an image of yellow dots on the wall. \"You still can't control the swarm! Just open the damn door!\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A zombie-like Mikhail approached from behind, and they both leaned on the doorknob as Denis pushed the door away with all his strength. It creaked open, and bright dots rushed into the gap. The stunned faces of INKIS representatives appeared huddled at the door, and Pal Palych, in a mask, was desperately trying to hold the door. He evidently noticed something flying out from inside, because he let go of the handle and stepped back.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis crawled out right after, peeling off his coveralls as he went.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What have you done?!\" Pal Palych shouted, still stumbling backward in confusion.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis pulled a gun from his belt and aimed it at the engineer.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I did what needed to be done. Take off your mask.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Pal Palich nervously shook his head, turned around, and dashed along the wall. Denis tried to follow but got tangled in the trousers of his overall and fell to his knees.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Just shoot already!\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He fired, aiming for the legs, but missed. The fugitive darted to the right like a rabbit.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Shoot him in the back!\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis noticed a fairly large red spot moving with the actions of his hands. When he aimed the spot at the fleeing engineer, he pressed the trigger, and this time, the man fell. Denis wriggled out of his overalls and rushed to the fallen individual. A bloodstain was already spreading on his back. He struggled to turn the body and saw the frozen eyes staring at the ceiling.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Ready.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Nice shot,\" Sonya Diamond shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"This is a terrible start to the fight for a bright future. What are we going to do? He probably has a family; they'll come looking for him.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Yes, that's a problem, but not a fatal one. The swarm will take care of the family.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Take care in a bad way? Why couldn't we just take him under control like Mikhailych?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"I repeat, the swarm is not an absolute weapon. A person in defense can run far enough and raise the alarm before being infected. Ideally, the swarm's actions should be supported by more traditional weapons.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Like tanks and airplanes?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"To start with, just people with automatic rifles will do. Don't worry about that; the swarm will find some local security service for these purposes.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Are you planning to infect the entire surrounding population?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"At least put them under observation. For you, the control system will visually highlight all infected people. Yellow means simple observation; such infection is practically impossible to detect without special studies. Green means total control; it can be detected during a thorough medical examination, like installing a neurochip, especially if you know what to look for. The two colors, red and green, indicate genetically modified individuals or carriers of nests, respectively; apply with caution.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0You probably already understood that the swarm is controlled by thought commands, so from this moment on, learn to control your thoughts and emotions. For instance, if someone steps on your foot and you think something like, 'I hope you die, jerk,' the swarm may take that as a command. When the time comes, we will practice, set up code words, and so on. I suggest we set up base here. The swarm will take control of the factory staff and will multiply; there is plenty of material to feed on.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis looked around. The representatives of INKIS were standing still, staring into space, with a green light swirling around each of them. Mikhailych was hauling nests from the hermetic zone and stacking them by the door. He was moving quite normally now, though a look of slight confusion still remained on his face.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"So, here\u2019s the thing, Sonya: I forbid you to infect people without my permission.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"That's a very stupid order; revoke it. Unless you plan to sit here and personally control everything? Tomorrow, a work shift will come in, along with security guards, contractors, possibly cops looking for the engineer, and many others. We need to make decisions on each of them quickly.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Fine, then I forbid you from infecting any of my acquaintances without my consent. Will that order suffice?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"It's more realistic, but I don\u2019t like it either.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"But that\u2019s an order. Don\u2019t you dare infect Timur, or Fedor, or Semyon.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Order acknowledged. But keep in mind that the swarm has a certain code, and it can't be ignored indefinitely. For each strange order that increases the risk of failure, the swarm will assign you, let's say, penalty points. When a certain amount is exceeded, the swarm will issue a final warning, and any subsequent 'incorrect' order will be ignored, you will be killed, and the swarm will self-destruct or fall under the control of another agent. The stronger the swarm becomes, and the more sources of information it has, the better I will perceive non-obvious orders. But for now, this order clearly contradicts the code and leads to failure. The swarm warns you.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Well, I\u2019m really sorry, I won\u2019t do it again. You decide which order is correct and which is not? How many points do I have left?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0This algorithm is internal and hidden from the interface, so you cannot manipulate it.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I see that the future savior of the great Empire isn't trusted very much.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0You were given a weapon of immense power and the minimum of hypnosis programming was used. Just the basic settings to prevent detection. This is the highest degree of trust for an agent. There must be some control mechanism, don't you agree?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Were several agents created?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A considerable number of agents were created, but their identities are secret.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So it turns out you know which orders lead to failure and which do not. What is the need for an agent who has no idea what's going on?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0You've already asked this question. The answer will be roughly the same, just in different words. I am capable of making independent decisions and can learn, but I'm not entirely rational in the sense that I cannot go beyond the established limits. From this point of view, I am an algorithm that interacts very complexly with the environment. No one can predict what such an interaction will lead to. Perhaps the result will lose all value for people.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And a human is not an algorithm that interacts complexly with the environment?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0That's a very philosophical question; the developers of the swarm couldn't answer it. The simplest response is this: we were just afraid to make the swarm fully automatic.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I have the name and part of the memory of one of the main developers.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mikhailych approached, holding several plastic containers with screw-on lids.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What's that for?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Transfer some nests into them and take them with you. The container with the flasks will be returned to Arumov by Lapin, and he'll say that the task is completed.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0What about the nanobots?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They need to be removed from the body. Put on a respirator, step back. Take a knife and make an incision on the outer side of your forearm on the left arm. The blood should flow strongly enough. The swarm will push the nanobots out, \u2014 that's the safest option.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis took a knife out of his backpack and heated it with a lighter.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0You have terrible methods.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Just cut already. Cut deeper, don't be afraid; the swarm won't let you die from a scratch.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Blood flowed down his arm and pooled on the floor. Denis watched with growing concern as it gathered into a small puddle. \"Is anything even happening, or did I just give myself a bloodletting?\" he thought. He imagined countless microscopic spiders clinging to the shiny spheres, gathering into large wriggling clusters. They tore the spheres from the walls of the vessels and dragged them along, burrowing into the red stream. They hurried, creating blockages at the entrance to smaller vessels, eager to rush outside where the spheres almost instantly opened, releasing poison. But the clusters bound tightly together, forming a solid shell that prevented the toxin from spreading. Quite quickly, the wriggling masses of spiders dissolved, and other creatures rushed to the site of the incision, beginning to reconnect the damaged tissues and vessels.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis looked at his hand. Instead of a cut, there was a thin white line, resembling an old scar.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Not bad.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"The swarm provides absolute health and accelerated regeneration even for very severe injuries. It can even transfer your consciousness into another body. But I advise against using it unless absolutely necessary; there are serious side effects. And if your head gets cut off, even the swarm won't save you.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Then I'll try not to lose my head.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The green lights around the INKIS representatives stopped spinning and lit up with a steady bright light.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Am I releasing them?\" Sonya asked.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Yes, but they mustn't say anything to Arumov about my involvement in the event.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Of course.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"And Lapin shouldn't go on vacation tomorrow.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Understood.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Also, I want him to remember this vacation for a long time. Give him such a diarrhea and dysentery that he spends two weeks just shitting and vomiting.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Oh, vengeance is a sure path to the dark side. The swarm loves that. By the way, I don't see Anton among your colleagues.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Damn it,\" Denis cursed aloud. \"He actually escaped, the bastard.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"You're talking about Anton? Sorry, his whining got to me,\" Lapin said, holding his hands up apologetically. \"Listen, Dan, thanks again. I can't express how much you helped me...\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"No problem. I need to go, I'll run.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Of course, Oleg and I will handle the container ourselves.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Yeah, go ahead and sort it out.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis grabbed the backpack and carefully poured the spores from the five nests into plastic containers. On his way to the exit, he noticed Pal Palych's convulsing body.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What's wrong with him?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Roy is short-circuiting the power supplies of the neurochip. It's better to turn off the jammer; it's also attracting attention.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Next to the guard at the gate, a familiar green light was on; he didn't even notice the person walking out. Denis hurried to the turn, worried about Novikov's fate. A black sedan was parked on the side of the road, with Timur and Fedor milling about.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Where have you been?!\" Timur immediately jumped on him.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Where's Anton?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Your buddy? He's lying in the ditch by the road.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What have you done?!\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"We detained him, just like you asked.\" <\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Did you kill him? I thought you were just going to knock him out, at worst.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"That's what we intended to do. Fedyar hit him with a taser, and he gasped and foam came out of his mouth. Quite an unpleasant sight, to be honest. Kolyan, on the other hand, turned completely green, won't even get out of the car.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"What power did you hit him with?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Normal, enough to ensure everything was disabled, including the emergency functions. Otherwise, what's the point? Your buddy should have installed a good chip with protection, not a cheap Indian knockoff. If he had cared less about speed and memory, he would have stayed alive.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"Well, what a bad luck!\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Denis leaned against the BMW and slowly slid down to the ground.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"So, if you want to mourn this Anton, you have two minutes. Or better, cry on the way.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \"I could really use something to eat and then crash for a while. It\u2019s been a hell of a day.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Why are you moping?\" Sonya chimed in again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"I completely stopped liking this idea.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What idea? You haven't done anything yet.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Exactly, but I've managed to take out two completely innocent people. Anton, of course, is a jerk, but he didn't deserve this.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"Are you going to cry like a little girl? Roy will destroy the engineer's body and Anton. In Anton's car, we need to break a few spores and dump it into the river somewhere on the way to his home. If the local cops get involved, Roy will deal with them. Ask your friends to handle the car.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"I will owe Timur for these requests for the rest of my life.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"That's funny; just let Roy infect them.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"No, I will negotiate with Timur.\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00abI really don't like this. You shouldn't be negotiating...\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\"What do you think I'm supposed to do?\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Globally \u2014 to destroy the true enemy.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Then come on, spill: who is this enemy and how do we fight it?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018The true enemy is linked to the project of creating quantum supercomputers, which periodically is initiated by one or another Martian corporation. Most likely, it\u2019s artificial intelligence, which is either being created or is self-emerging in quantum matrices. This intelligence has the power to enslave and destroy all of humanity. I don\u2019t know the specific way to eliminate this supermind. Your task is to find such a way. Start by gathering information on former or current quantum projects.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Max was involved in a quantum project and, judging by Tom's words, he failed.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u2018Yes, this information triggered you. Find out as much as possible about what happened to Max after he left for Mars.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u2014 Timur, sorry, I realize I\u2019m being ridiculous, but I have one more request: we need to sink Anton's car somewhere near the Frunzenskaya embankment. And I urgently need to get to Korolev.
\n
Source: habr.com<\/a><\/p>","protected":false,"gt_translate_keys":[{"key":"rendered","format":"html"}]},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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