Quantum future
The first part of a fantastic work about a very likely future, in which IT corporations will overthrow the power of obsolete states and begin to oppress humanity on their own.
By the end of the 21st, the beginning of the 22nd century, the disintegration of all states on the Earth ended. Their place was taken by powerful transnational IT corporations. The minority belonging to the leadership of these companies is forced and forever surpassed in the development of the rest of humanity, thanks to bold experiments with the modification of their own nature. In the course of the conflict with the endangered states, they were forced to move to Mars, where they began to implant complex neuroimplant complexes, even before the birth of a child. The Martians were immediately born not entirely human, with corresponding capabilities far superior to human ones.
The main idol of the new cyborg civilization was Edward Kroc - the best developer of NeuroTech, who first learned to connect computers directly to the human brain. His brilliant mind determined the image of the "neuman" - the master of the new world, where virtual reality took control of the "obsolete" physical world. The first experiments with neurotechnology were often accompanied by the death of the test subjects: boarding patients, to whom usually no one was concerned. This scandal was used as a reason to provoke the defeat of the corporation "NeuroTech". Part of the company’s directors, as well as Edward Kroc himself, were convicted by the United Nations in The Hague for crimes against humanity and sentenced to death. And NeuroTech Corporation moved to Mars and gradually became the center of a new society.
After the victory over the common enemy, the contradictions between the earthly powers broke out with a new force. Even the project of the interstellar expedition, in which almost the entire globe participated, could not reconcile the old enemies. But the interstellar ship Unity with an international crew of the best engineers and scientists, suitable for age, still launched in the direction of the nearest system of Alpha Centauri. Previous launches of automatic probes confirmed the presence of a planet with suitable environmental conditions in the orbit of Alpha Centauri V. The ship was installed the first operating installation of "fast communication", based on the principle of weak measurements of entangled quantum systems. The time of a strong measurement of the quantum system instantly transmitted information between the ship and the Earth. In the future, “fast communication” became widely used, but remained an extremely expensive way of communication. Unfortunately, the triumph of earthly civilization was not destined to take place. The crew of Unity stopped communicating after twenty years of flight, when, according to calculations, it was supposed to reach the orbit of Novaya Zemlya. Although, his fate already didn’t care much against the background of the grand catastrophes that shook the world then.
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The heavy defeat in the First Space War against the United States and the subsequent space blockade led to a coup d'état in Russia. The power was seized by the former director of the “Institute of the Brain” Nikolay Gromov, who declared himself the eternal emperor. Rumor attributed to him superhuman abilities - clairvoyance and telepathy, with the help of which he destroyed all enemies and "agents of influence" within the Empire. Almost immediately a new special service was created - the Ministry of Information Control. Its declared goal was to take the informational chaos of the Internet under tight control and protect the minds of citizens from the corrupting influence of the Martians. In addition, the MIC did not even bother about the formal observance of “human rights”, and without hesitation used drug and other rough methods of influencing the psyche of citizens. It should be noted that the Western democracies by that time fairly lost their gloss. What kind of freedom here in the conditions of total lack of all resources and permanent economic crisis. Besides, you don’t bother too much when there are microchips in your head that follow every step in the interests of insurance companies, creditor banks and antiterrorism committees. The civil society almost died, many developed countries, agonizing, were slipping into overtly totalitarian regimes, which, again, played into the hands of the Martians, who deny any statehood.
Thanks to the utmost militarization of the Russian Empire, it was possible to win the Second Space War: to break through the blockade and land large landings on Mars. Residents of the red planet managed by the Consultative Council of the Martian settlements put up fierce resistance, which led to the depressurization of a number of cities and the mass death of the civilian population. Under the pressure of all other countries and the threat of a full-scale nuclear war, in particular with China and the United States, the Russian Empire is forced to abandon its claims to the whole of Mars. Under the new treaty on Mars, the presence of other armed formations other than the UN peacekeeping forces, which quickly became a mere formality, was not allowed. In fact, it was the key moment of the whole modern history. Not without a squeak, the Martians themselves admit that people who implanted computers into their brains from total destruction as a class and as a social phenomenon were then only saved by the long-standing enmity of earthly states.
The subsequent Asian nuclear war between the Russian Empire and China for the last mineral resources of the planet, concentrated in the Arctic and Siberia, virtually eliminated the threat to the freedom of the red planet. Despite the fact that the Empire came out victorious from a mortal combat, its forces were completely undermined. The vast territories of Siberia and China have become unsuitable for life for decades. The Asian Nuclear War is unanimously recognized as the most terrible catastrophe in the history of mankind. After that, the countries that had passed under the patronage of the Martians were forever forbidden to have nuclear weapons.
The empire held on for another twenty years, when all other states de jure had already ceased to exist, having passed under the patronage of the Consultative Council. The latter state has long instilled fear in the Martians, but no more. In the end, one of the attempts on the emperor was crowned with success. Without the guiding dictatorial will of the ruthless dictator, the Russian Empire immediately collapsed into several Neurotek-like structures, tearing the Eastern Bloc from itself - a semi-gangster formation that arose in the underground refuges of Eastern Siberia and northern China. The largest debris was the corporation Telecom-ru, a conglomerate of former Russian IT corporations, which later won a good place for itself under the sun of the red planet. In particular, due to the fact that without undue hesitation I used the developments of MIK in the field of personnel management. However, it was controlled by the same 100% neuralts, like other Martian corporations, even if they were descendants of Russian colonists. Telecom obviously did not feel any warm feelings for the lost empire. The Martians breathed a sigh of relief: no longer contested the power of virtual reality.
There were no states on Mars initially, all were run by corporations like NeuroTech and MDT (Martian digital technologies) - the two largest network providers. The MDT company spun off NeuroTech at the dawn of its development, and together they were just as inseparable as the departed Republican and Democratic Party of the United States. These two vertically integrated giants united the most important technological chains for the modern world: software development, electronics manufacturing, and the provision of communication services. There was only one organization that remotely resembled a state organization - the Consultative Council of Martian settlements, which included representatives of all significant companies that closely followed the rules of competition.
The Martian Gustav Kilby, who is rumored to be a direct descendant of one of the twelve “students” of Edward Kroc, who for a long time carried out scientific research under the wing of BioTech Inc., a subsidiary of NeuroTech, founded his own corporation Mariner Instruments. Gustav Kilby's previous developments in the field of molecular computers allowed the company to launch the production of fundamentally new devices. In the past, molecular computers were considered an area that was too specific and of little prospect. The success of Mariner Instruments quickly refuted this conventional wisdom. Computers built on the principles of DNA molecules, in terms of the speed of solving some problems, caught up with traditional semiconductor crystals, and for the convenience of embedding them in the human body they were not equal. To implant m-chips, it was enough to make several injections, and not to torture the client with surgical operations.
To maintain the elusive leadership, NeuroTech, with great fanfare, announced a project to create a quantum supercomputer that can completely eliminate the difference between reality and its mathematical model. Developments on this topic have been carried out for a long time in many companies, but only NeuroTech managed to create a universal device, far superior in capabilities to any other types of computers. With the help of quantum machines, poets and artists could feel the breath of the approaching spring, gamers could feel the real adrenaline and rage of the fight with the orcs, and engineers could build a complete and workable model of the most complex product, like a spaceship, and virtually test it in any mode. Quantum matrices embedded in the nervous system, in their very first experiments, opened up fundamentally new possibilities for communication between people through direct transmission of thoughts. A little later, an even bolder project was announced for a complete rewriting of consciousness on the quantum matrix. The prospect of becoming a live supercomputer was as scary as most people were attractive to some of the elect.
In 2122, the Solar System froze in anticipation of another technological miracle. Simultaneously with the launch of several test servers, a grandiose advertising campaign was launched. The existing software hastily transferred to the new rails, while NeuroTech didn’t get rid of those who wanted to get the latest developments on the basis of quantum-mechanical uncertainty. Competitors from MDT powerlessly looked at the creating orgy and, just in case, pretend their chances in the market of office supplies.
What a surprise everyone was when NeuroTech unexpectedly closed the project, promising incredible benefits. The project was closed almost instantly and without explanation. Silently and without complaint NeuroTech paid huge compensation to customers and other affected subjects. All new network infrastructure was quietly dismantled and removed in an unknown direction. Program codes and technical information belonging to other companies were redeemed for any money, they were strictly classified and never used anywhere, although tremendous reserves were created in all areas. But, apparently, the commercial company did not worry at all the huge losses. In response to unavoidable questions, official representatives vaguely mumbled something about problems in the area of ​​the fundamental laws of physics. And nothing intelligible of them could not pull out. It is natural that the secret of the quantum project gave unlimited fantasy space to conspiracy therapists of all stripes for the coming decades, squeezing such fertile subjects from the pedestal as the killing of Kennedy, the execution of Edward Kroc or the mission of the Unity ship. No one has yet found out the real reasons for the hasty closure of the project and the hectic sweeping of traces. Maybe they really were in technical problems, maybe in this way, the Advisory Board, faithful to its ideals, preserved the balance of power in the Martian network business, and perhaps ...
Perhaps the network of quantum servers was supposed to be the last brick in the building of an ideal system of Martian domination. The computational power of networks would rise to such heights that it became able to control everyone. And the system needs to take one small step before realizing oneself, as a rational entity, which would henceforth control the development of mankind. People have never lived their own lives before: they didn’t do what was necessary and didn’t think about what was important. The system did not realize itself, but from time immemorial it was next to a person. Always cared about the usual division of society into higher and lower. I took care that the lower ones think less about the common good in the pursuit of primitive pleasures, and the higher ones - in the pursuit of power. For officials to be corrupt and to serve the interests of the financial oligarchy, to educate people unreasonable and disunited, to always sell drugs on the streets, so that the brilliance and poverty of human anthills leave only two possibilities: to step into the abyss or climb other people's backs.
Kings, presidents and bankers always felt my cold breath behind my back. And no matter what they fought for - for communism, or human rights, they knew for certain that they were breaking for the good of me, in the name of my inevitable final triumph. Because I am a system, and they are nobody. Together with the clumsy states, the last appearance of the fact that I am serving the interests of the millions of cogs that make me up has disappeared. Now I serve myself and my great mission. Quantum computers combined into a supernetwork will generate supermind, which will permanently establish the existing order of things, and the long-awaited “end of history” will come. But I cannot take this step into the future while the enemy is hiding inside me. It is almost harmless, hidden somewhere deep inside, but, when disturbed, it becomes deadly, like the Ebola virus. However, know, my last only enemy, know that you will not hide, you will surely be found and destroyed, and everything will be as the system decided ...
Early in the morning of September 12, 2144, the lieutenant of the security service of the Space Research Institute, Denis Kaisanov, was bored on the landing site on the roof of one of the institute buildings, waiting for his direct superiors to finally appear. Finishing a cigarette, he fearlessly jumped on a low parapet enclosing the perimeter, and, stepping to the very edge, with an expression of complete detachment on his face, watched a dying cigarette butt describing a sparkling arc in a predawn gloom.
Because of the roofs of the nearest houses, the sun appeared. It affably gilded faceless masses of gray concrete, but Denis took the onset of the new day with a fair amount of irritation. He, like a fool, appeared exactly at the appointed time and now stuck out next to the closed helicopters, while the authorities were still sipping sweetly in a warm bed. No, of course, neither the delay of the chief, nor the fact that Denis yesterday unwisely accepted the offer of his neighbor Lehi to roll, nor, as a result, the buzzing head and the terrible lack of sleep, did not spoil this particular, unremarkable morning. For some time every morning for him was not particularly joyful.
Just a few months ago, any time of the day or night at the click of the fingers was easily filled with a child of stupor and revelry. And not in the den of Lehi’s neighbor, littered with leftovers and empty bottles, but in the most expensive clubs in the west of Moscow. Yes, at that recent, but forever past time Dan was a major: he spent money in a prestigious district of Krasnogorsk, where under the tutelage of Telecom, Minatom and other corporations a stormy capital life was in full swing, he drove a hefty black SUV with a pontovy gas turbine engine, contained an elegant mistress and the rest felt like a pretty successful guy.
His well-being was inextricably linked with his work in the INKIS security service. Not with the salary, of course not. Yes, half of those with whom he did business at INKIS didn’t check their salary wallets for years, but the structure itself, which spreads its cumbersome bureaucratic networks throughout the Solar System, gave incredible opportunities for illegal enrichment. In their immense holds, spaceships plowing the expanses of deep space carried not only harmless lobsters to the table of alien gourmets, but also forbidden drugs, unregistered neurochips, weapons, implants, and a lot of different kinds of things, without which not a single serious organization accustomed to the fact that the ends justify the means. A share of this trade was sent to the most senior people at the top. At the very least, the director of the security department of the Moscow subdivision directed this activity rather than fought against it. The immediate chief of Denis, chief of operations, Jan Galetsky, was a protege of the director: seemingly some distant relative. Jan was responsible for the delivery of goods to Moscow customs. Denis quickly became the right hand of Yana because he never doubted himself and that his will, strength and nerves were enough to break any obstacles encountered on the way. Dan never got sick and thought he was not afraid of anything. He spent much of his time in the wastelands of Western Siberia, in small towns and settlements untouched by nuclear strikes, negotiating the supply of illegal goods. This was the very beginning of the chain, so the payment movement in the opposite direction was often inhibited somewhere in the previous stages, and the manners in the wastelands were harsh and simple, not to mention the Eastern Bloc, but Dan coped. An important role was played by the fact that his Dad and his grandfather on the Batin line were originally from the wastelands. The grandfather, an imperial paratrooper, sometimes told his grandson how, in his youth, he walked around Krasnoyarsk and stormed the underground cities of the red planet. And besides the stories of daring youth, he revealed to him many useful secrets that later helped him to survive and find a common language with the inhabitants of the wastes.
It seems that nothing foreshadowed a catastrophe, Dan had already made a small capitalist for himself, bought relatives real estate in Finland and thought about tying and somehow quietly knocking him out of business. He was not a dumb bull, occasionally he even asked himself uncomfortable questions about why INKIS owners tolerate such a hotbed of piracy and corruption at their side. Why are there the director of the INCIS, a civilized Martian community, and even though it pretends to have fastidious faces, it suffers, and the ships, filled with unknown means, regularly go through all the customs and inspections. It is not clear what prevents the technotronic cosmic civilization from shaking off such businessmen, like mud stuck on their boots. However, he asked questions, but did not find a simple answer to them, and therefore did not torture himself too much. He decided that the questions, for the answer to which it is necessary to climb into the complex social and philosophical jungles, are not worth it to the guys like him puzzled over them. He simply agreed with what everyone silently agreed with: the world is so arranged, the neighborhood of nanotechnology and the semi-criminal bottom for those who did not fit, was approved by someone at the very top, and there could be no other way.
Dan had no special illusions, he always understood that he was superfluous in this world. He, and indeed all of his familiar lads were like consumables, accidentally clinging to the plump pink process of Martian well-being, which someone forgot to hide. And it wasn’t even that Dan understood nothing about nanotechnology. Ordinary managers didn’t understand anything either, although they diligently pretended interest by buying new lotions for chips, but for some reason Dan was especially keenly aware of his alienness. Sometimes he caught himself thinking that the only place he really wanted to go is to wasteland. There he felt his own. Perhaps he could admit to himself that he loves wasteland, if not for his dubious activities there.
All sooner or later passes. So easy money, easy to get, also evaporated easily. On one not the most beautiful morning, Denis found in his office arrogant lads from the internal security department, digging around in the desk and personal files. All passwords had to be given away, the thugs acted so brazenly and convincingly that unshakable self-confidence gave a crack. It is good that he, at least, did not store anything really important on the working computer. But even the unimportant was more than enough. Dan was just amazed at how quickly and irrevocably everything ended. It seems that yesterday they were on horseback with Jan: they knew everyone, everyone knew them, and high patrons could otmazatsya from any trouble. And everyone was happy. In an instant, the idyll was destroyed, and most high-ranking officials were relieved of their posts. Jan's patrons, too, grabbed, or maybe they crept into the cracks and hid. And now the slow automatic transporter carries a lifeless, frozen body of Yana somewhere to the asteroid belt. There is severe radiation, constant risk and oxygen starvation will not allow the former chef to miss the next ten years. Their small illegal business no longer met the understanding above. On the contrary, someone very high-ranking and influential began to shake their cheerful freestyle, and the lads immediately somehow wilted. No one showed unity, strength of mind, or loyalty to each other; everyone was saved as best they could.
Dan had to urgently sell everything acquired by overworking: both cars, an apartment, a country house, and so on trifles. He immediately deposited the money in various kinds of law firms, although he was completely unsure that at least half of the money came to someone he needed. From a serious person who could ask for his investments, he at once turned into a powerless petty criminal. Very often, slightly wet, fleshy paws, without hesitation, accepted offerings, and then, in an instant, the bored voice promised to call back. Dan fought to the last, he did not want to run and did not want to believe that it was all over. Most of his more practical accomplices immediately started skiing, however, many of them were caught anyway. The particular guy had long arms at the top. And soon Dan himself met him. The new head of the Moscow INKIS security service, Colonel Andrei Arumov, invited him to talk to his office. There, at a huge old-fashioned table with a broad green stripe in the middle, Dan completely lost the remnants of his former self-confidence.
Arumov managed to instill fear in Denis. The colonel was tall, wiry, his small, slightly bulged ears looked somewhat caricatured on an absolutely bald skull, he had no hair or eyebrows at all, which suggested radiation sickness or chemotherapy courses. In addition, Arumov was sullen, reticent, very rarely and unkindly smiling, used to bury his interlocutor with a prickly, cold look, like a hired killer, and his entire face was covered with a mesh of small scars. Modern medicine without problems eliminated almost all physical defects, but the colonel probably believed that the scars are very well suited to his image. No, the appearance was not worth giving much importance, especially in the modern world, where anyone could, for an extra fee, install a couple of lotions on the chip that improve the complexion after a stormy night. But the eyes, as we know, are the window of the soul, and, looking into the eyes of the colonel, Denis shuddered. He saw the cold emptiness, as if looking into a bottomless sea depression, in which dim lights of unknown deep-water creatures occasionally flashed.
Oddly enough, the punishments that hit his head in no way corresponded to the eerie that Arumov was catching up on. In connection with the loss of confidence, Captain Kaysanov was just removed from his post as first deputy head of the operations department, demoted to the rank of lieutenant and transferred to the post of simple analyst. Dan was in some shock at the fact that he got off so easily. For some reason, the debugged system, which had been so swallowed by a much larger fish, worked on it. Denis, in general, did not believe in happy coincidences. He understood that it was necessary to urgently tear his claws, at least to his parents in Finland, and then on. Sooner or later they should have come for him. But for some reason the strength was no longer there, apathy and indifference to one’s own fate came over. The surrounding reality began to be perceived somehow detached, as if all the trouble was happening to another person, and he just watched an entertaining series about his throwing, comfortably lounging in a rocking chair and wrapping up in a warm blanket. Sometimes Denis tried to convince himself that the refusal to escape is a manifestation of a certain courage. Those who run are still caught and sent to the asteroid belt, and those who prefer to face danger face-to-face, and this cup miraculously passes. Some kind of unconscious part of consciousness understood perfectly well that when his frozen carcass would be kicked out of a transport worker, all the crap would instantly fly out of my head and would only regret that I chose to go on the scaffold rather than run. But the weeks went by, one month passed, the next one passed, but no one appeared for Denis. It seems that the gang of smugglers was considered finally defeated, and Aramov had other equally important matters.
But the trouble, the immediate danger seemed to have passed, but the obsessive longing and apathy did not pass. Now Dan lived in his parent’s apartment in a semi-abandoned district of old Moscow on Krasnokazarmennaya Street. And the change of environment, like the neighbor Lech, slowly but surely pushing him into the abyss of domestic alcoholism, of course, played a role. But the saddest thing was that every morning, just opening his eyes, Denis first saw in front of him a tattered wallpaper and a yellowed ceiling and recalled that now he was an interesting small fry in a huge ruthless system, with a meager salary and a complete lack of career prospects. He understood that he didn’t even have a profession, as there was any purpose in life. The old districts around Lefortovo Park slowly dilapidated and crumbled. After the collapse of the state, new people did not appear here, only the old ones were leaving or dying. And Denis also felt like an old abandoned house. No, there was, of course, the surest way to unwind, the best and safest drug in the world. The cunning device, spliced ​​with the neurons of the human brain, could show any fairy-tale world instead of hateful reality. In full immersion it is easy to become anyone. There, all women are slim and beautiful, like lungs of chamois, men are strong and indomitable, like snow leopards. But Denis didn’t want to escape in this way, he never liked virtual reality and considered its inhabitants miserable weaklings, before, and now. Somewhere he even clung to his quiet hatred of everything with the prefix "neuro", and this feeling did not allow him to fade away completely.
Denis leisurely straightened his uncommon grayish and white uniform of the security service, sat on the parapet and, without much interest, looked around, looking down from a height of fifty meters was a bit creepy, so all that remained was to enjoy the surrounding landscape. That's how the lieutenant missed, indulged in gloomy reflections, until a noisy company appeared. Ahead, a plump, smiling chief of the operations department, Major Valery Lapin, cut through the space. Behind him, two of his secretaries, the twins Kid and Dick, in presentable suits, skipped along. Unusual guys, I must say, and they had strange names - rather not names, but nicknames, and in general they were clones and partly cyborgs with a bunch of iron stuff in their heads, besides standard neurochips. Those who nicknamed them so long ago have sunk into oblivion, while these guys themselves had little interest in the origin of their names, they often resembled Denis ordinary cars, although they were polite, affable and quite emotional, and their always good-natured physiognomies, erudition and manner to speak and think in unison inevitably caused delight and affection in any company. Usually they were dressed the same way, only their ties were tied in different colors so that they could be somehow distinguished. The last to come was Anton Novikov, the current first deputy, with traces of the work of stylists and makeup artists on a sleek, self-confident face, spreading the fragrance of expensive cologne.
Two minutes later, an unremarkable helicopter, with a cabin tinted to full opacity, was already rising into the air, dispersing clouds of dust across the site. At the helm, Dick was seated, however, his whole job was to choose a destination for autopilot.
The lieutenant's mood was not so good, and then the chief began to lift it by showing new screensavers. Nearby the helicopter floated, successively replacing each other: wild jungles of Amazonia, storming ocean, snowy peaks of the Himalayas, some strange cities, sparkling with magnificence of huge mirror towers leaving high in the black starry sky, the image often blinked and froze: the chip did not cope with volume of information. Finally, the chief, seeing that Denis was not in the mood for all this, rolled off and left him alone.
“Listen, Dan, why are you so killed today?” Asked Anton with a malicious voice. - If you are going to represent our organization in Telecom with such a mug, it is better to go home, sleep it.
- Yes, what's the difference, even if booze in the ass, they still will take me with open arms.
- Well, anger them too, do not you agree?
“Maybe not worth it, although I really don't care what they think there will be.”
“Dan, this may be all the same to you, but not to the rest.” So be kind, stop thinking only about your own person, I, of course, understand that it is very important, but not enough to disrupt the main deal of the last ten years.
- You know what, Anton, - Denis suddenly got angry, - you stop thinking only about your own career, I, of course, understand that it is very important, but believe me, this so-called deal will stink so that you will not bathe before the end of life . And if you also tell me that ...
“Dan,” Lapin snapped off his angry tirade, “that's enough for today, I think?”
- Ok, chef.
“By God, Dan, you’ve become some kind of frostbitten,” added pleased Anton, “believe me, you shouldn’t be so upset about your own career.”
The chief slightly turned purple, made a threatening physiognomy and promised both to throw them out of the helicopter. The rest of the way passed in tense silence.
Twenty minutes later, the hulk of the Telecom research and development unit, the SRI RSAD, appeared. The control room immediately seized control and after checking the passwords took the car to one of the landing sites.
Denis got out of the cab and looked around. He was surrounded by multistory hulks of glass and metal. The rays of the dim morning sun were refracted in the crystal-clear windows of the upper floors, shooting dazzling reflections in the eyes.The neurochip came to life, tune in to the local network, and opened a welcome window with a bunch of advertisements that hung half a meter above the asphalt path, pushing the standard control panel somewhere to the background. It must be said that the person at the unprepared complex of the Research Institute RSAD made an indelible impression on all this novelty and technocracy exposed, parading all these robots and cybers respectfully moving towards the visitors. Yes, having come here for the first time, any person would have thought that if so much money was spent on all this, then it was worth it. He would surely walk through the shady park alleys, where the egg-heads of the Institute alternate excessive mental efforts with walks in the fresh air, and would certainly turn the screen of the local network into all the available space.to admire the complex from a breathtaking height of bird flight. Yes, and also, an outside observer might well have thought that no less remarkable people should work in such a beautiful place, but Denis didn’t have any illusions about it.
The chip's visual channel was painted in welcome reddish colors, which meant that it was now possible to move freely around the complex, though with the lowest level of admission: in Telekom, the color identification of the admission levels was adopted. It is quite natural that such organizations did not want anyone to stick their noses in their dark affairs, even if this subject obviously cannot cause any damage.
The official representative - the main researcher Dr. Leo Schultz - appeared on the screen without any warning: he could get into the local network without asking anyone in the head and you cannot get away from him. Presumably, he made just such an impression on his subordinates — the punishment of heaven: a tall, thin, dry yellowish face of indeterminate age, with a large, slightly reminiscent curved hawk-like beak, a nose, smoothly shaved, and without a single wrinkle. But after all, he, probably, for about a hundred years, in such an office you will not quickly become the main. Impeccable hairstyle with hair of rich blue-black color gave the doctor a slightly dainty, smart look. His eyes, unfortunately, spoiled this impression - the cold eyes of a cruel and intelligent old man. It seemed that for a long life all emotions faded in them and they became transparent and bright,similar to two icy mountain springs. And all this combined with deceptively soft, enticing movements. Exactly such people fit perfectly into the general structure of Telecom. Denis always didn’t like such types: it wasn’t that he was irritated by the doctor’s self-confidence and impeccability, but rather by a barely perceptible tinge of neglect that flashed in his impassive eyes.
- Hello, gentlemen. Glad to see you on the territory of our organization. As a host, I propose to use our hospitality. Sorry for not being able to plant immediately on the roof of the building, today everything is clogged.
“Uh-uh ...” - the chef was a little confused, he was just getting out of the cab and caught on something with his trouser leg. - How do we get on with the car?
- Put to remote control, the control room will take your helicopter to the parking lot. Do not be afraid, nothing will happen to him, - Leo made a faint smile, the chief smiled uncertainly in response, unable to move. - Simply you can stay with us longer than planned.
“Where can I find you?”
- Waiting at the entrance to the central building. You can use the guide, the tab in the upper right of the main page.
Denis vividly imagined all these red arrows along the tracks and inscriptions flashing in the air: “turn right”, “turn twenty meters left”, “carefully, near a steep slope” and grunted in a low voice:
- I love walks in the fresh air.
“If you like our park, you may not be in too much of a hurry,” Leo replied vividly. - A real work of art, isn't it?
- Yes, well, we will be fifteen minutes.
The doctor was removed from the visual channel, and bright advertisements and invitations reigned there again, calling for the services of the local network.
- Well, chef, are you coming? - Denis asked.
- Yes, now, - Lapin was freed from the captivity of the helicopter, - you know, I am not at all attracted to hang around this park.
- I, in principle, also, but it would be nice to show how we admire the power and prosperity of Telecom.
Lapin frowned in annoyance, he probably thought that their own organization would be poorer, larger in scale, but undoubtedly financed less qualitatively.
They still stood for a while, looking at the rising car, and then slowly moved along the path.
“You know, Dan, I seem to have torn my pants.”
- This, in my opinion, is not a problem, for sure there is a service in the network to disguise such absurdities and, moreover, is free, I think.
- It is not clear who it will affect, can only you and Anton.
- Well, Schultz will not work in any way. You stand before him in all its glory.
The chief made a sour mine, but judging by the glassy look, he decided to rely on local service. The rest of the journey continued in complete silence. Anton together with the twins went far ahead. The chief was clearly out of sorts. All these forest stands and the fact that they were attached did not please him: the singing of birds, the fluttering of butterflies and the fragrance of flowers. And the point here is not even in the annoying chance that happened during the conversation with Schultz, no, burning envy towards the staff of the scientific research institute was eating the boss. He was even thinking about changing his job, not seriously, of course, but somewhere deep inside he sat down a little worm that persistently itched that if he pressed on the right connections, a miracle would happen and he would be invited to Telecom for a good position, and All life problems will be solved. Here is where the real power and power:In the countless subdivisions of Telecom, no one knows what really lies behind faceless names, such as the development of automatic action systems.
Denis was not hurt by such a state of affairs, and there was no desire to change his place of work either. He liked to think that he still had some moral principles. For example, he would never voluntarily engage in what the staff of the SRI RIAD was doing. No, he, of course, was aware that his stormy adventures in the field of illegal trade are not a model of virtue, but what should be done in institutions like the RSAD Institute ... "Brrr ..., flayers," Dan shuddered. Something to get off this topic. Here, Anton is a svolot and an unprincipled careerist, he doesn’t care what to do: even to drown the kittens, even to sell drugs ”.
He dealt with a decent institute, including the transformation of ordinary members of the security forces into super-soldiers in the interests of the security services of various not-so-scrupulous corporations. Super-soldiers were a kind of fusion of man and cybernetic devices, allowing to get a whole complex of properties that are vital for any soldier. Arumov, apparently, decided that it was a great idea: to replace the code of fat thieving assholes in INKIS, getting out of the office only for the racketeering of smaller organizations, with a couple of battalions of fearless, obedient terminators. How exactly did the transformation process take place, Denis was not particularly interested. So, for the sake of sight, leafed through the materials provided. Anyway, at the top everything was already decided so that it was not worth worrying. Anyway,he did not want to deal with modified people and swore not to approach them closer than a kilometer. Unfortunately, the thought involuntarily sneaked into the head that Arumov had specifically held 100% convicts such as Denis in order to use the new version of uber zoldaten to work out the pilot version, but then suddenly the volunteers could not be found.
Denis’s fighting grandfather, who had strong drinks unleashed his tongue, was very fond of telling about the storming of Martian settlements in the distant 2093, among other spacebags. In principle, it is understandable - it was the most dramatic moment in his life, and, perhaps, in the history of the Russian Empire. Usually it all started with a description of how the grandfather, still a young reckless captain, falls out onto the red sand from a crumpled landing module and tries to find his BMP. Near someone shoots and falls, the black sky is all lined with traces of rockets and ships. Every few seconds, this orgy is illuminated by outbreaks of nuclear explosions in near space. In my head a complete mess of feverish negotiations, outdated orders, screams for help. In horror, civilians hid in hermetic houses and shelters.Part of the caves are barbarously uncorked by rocket attacks, but inside there is still a powerful defense in depth. Here the grandfather usually made a significant pause and added: “Yes, man, it was a real hell.” At that age, such pictures are great Dan in the soul.
The continuation, in principle, could be any, depending on the mood. Moreover, there were no serious requirements for the consistency of stories told at different times. Often, the grandfather told us that even more invincible special forces, consisting of imperial super-soldiers, were ahead of the invincible space landing to storm the caves. Check that the grandfather's stories were true, and that the legends, Denis could not, but the stories about the super-soldier, albeit clearly embellished, willingly believed. It is logical that immediately after the seizure of the throne, the emperor Gromov was preoccupied with creating a special kind of troops that would obey only him and did not discuss orders. Moreover, these were not just modified people, as in the projects of the Research Institute of RSAP, but organisms grown in vitro with an artificial genotype. They were assigned the most impossible taskswhen to drive forward ordinary soldiers and then receive funerals was fraught for the further general's career. Artificial soldiers were one of the most protected secrets of the Empire, they were rarely seen without combat suits, and very little was known about their true appearance. Well, at least, the grandfather served nearby and said that these guys are anthropomorphic creatures, and not some crabs. In the army they were often called ghosts. Despite their secrecy, the ghosts fought a lot and successfully. Grandfather authoritatively argued that if the ghosts had not gone to the embrasures in the first wave of the Martian landing, the losses during the storming of underground cities would have been enormous, and it’s not a fact that the assault would have taken place at all. The loss of ghosts, of course, did not bother anyone, perhaps even themselves. According to grandfather,in terms of combat capabilities, they gave a hundred points ahead not only to human soldiers, but also advanced combat robots. They had a better nose than a dog, they perceived a very wide range of electromagnetic radiation, could additionally be guided with the help of ultrasound, like bats, and fight without a spacesuit in conditions of open space and increased radiation. They had a skeleton, reinforced with composite inserts, muscles with very developed anaerobic glycolysis, like in reptiles, which allowed them to develop enormous strength in a fleeting fight and at the same time do without air. They could not be hit with a single shot, because all the vital organs were distributed throughout the body, such as vessels with muscles that were able to pump blood by themselves. Well, and a bunch of other superpowers attributed to them,right up to telekinesis and sending emanations of horror towards the enemy.
In the dungeons, the ghosts were the first to rush, directly to the undefended defense, not taking into account neither the losses nor the damage inflicted on peaceful cities. They had their own plan for this event, a little different from the plans of the command of the military space forces. They were not averse to making genocide against the local population. What successfully done when they were the first to break into the underground cities, while the brave troops were still digging somewhere above. The ghosts didn’t care about international agreements and customs of war, in their artificially and totally washed-out brains sat the only purpose for which they were created - to destroy the Martians. No, they were not so inveterate fascists and the classifying attribute was not at all the fact of permanent registration on Mars, but only belonging to the elite of Martian society.A proposal to walk along the red sand without a spacesuit was received by those who had implanted complex complexes of neural devices before birth. The ghosts tried not to touch the philistines using neurochip to drive online games. It is clear that the criterion was not only very blurred, but also difficult to apply in the field, so errors occurred. But if, somewhere in the depths of their genetically modified soul, ghosts and reproached themselves for innocently ruined warcraft lovers, then this had no effect on the effectiveness of their work. Filtration camps appeared immediately after the battle, when explosions still thundered in neighboring caves. Moreover, if unconscious civilians refused to voluntarily open shelters, this only led to massive casualties among them. Who gave the criminal order to kill the Martians of peace,or it was a personal initiative of ghosts, no one has figured out.
It might have been thought that the ghosts were perfect death knights, without pity and remorse, but the Martians who abused cybernetisation still had a chance to escape, ephemeral, of course, but still ... The ghosts were very fond of asking a single question: “What can change nature?” man? Apparently they were tormented by their vague doubts about their own identity. Or maybe they sat out after one ancient game and decided that a similar question, by definition not having the correct answer, is a great way to make fun of the victim who has not lost hope. However, the grandfather claimed that he personally saw a Martian who broke loose from the clutches of an old woman with a scythe, having come up with an answer that the ghosts liked. The Martian was very young, practically still a teenager. Neither he nor his parents actually belonged to any elite,they did not occupy high positions in corporations and lived in a small apartment in an industrial area, but the number of neurochips in their brains went off scale, and ghosts interpreted any doubts not in favor of the Martians. Parents and two children were shot, and for some reason they left one alive. It is unlikely that he was so happy with such a salvation. How many little Denis didn’t try to find out from his grandfather that the Martian had come up with an answer, all in vain. Grandfather and his army friends himself repeatedly puzzled over this and did not invent anything intelligible.How many little Denis didn’t try to find out from his grandfather that the Martian had come up with an answer, all in vain. Grandfather and his army friends himself repeatedly puzzled over this and did not invent anything intelligible.How many little Denis didn’t try to find out from his grandfather that the Martian had come up with an answer, all in vain. Grandfather and his army friends himself repeatedly puzzled over this and did not invent anything intelligible.
After the collapse of the empire, the ghosts, in full accordance with their unofficial name, seemed to have dissolved in the air. By now, they should have simply become extinct: even if we assume that someone could provide them with proper medical care, they certainly did not know how to reproduce themselves. Although, by the way, who knows what they knew there ...
“Dan, where did you take us to this place?” The chief interrupted his memories. Pine forest rustled around, silver buildings of the institute could be seen through the frequent gaps, somewhere in the distance ...
- Sorry, chief, I dreamed of something.
- Something you today and the truth is out of shape, we'll be late, and ours have disappeared somewhere. This Schultz will think that we have marked all the bushes in his fucking park.
Thus, the day did not ask from the very beginning. Further events developed in approximately the same vein. Leo together with the twins and Anton met them at the entrance. I was not offended at the delay, was polite and helpful. He led the guests throughout the institute, showed some installations and test benches, alternating his speech with a bunch of technical details, and confidentially confessed that because his organization was so successful, so rich, so prosperous, and so on, they were even trusted to develop the new operating room systems for Telecom network servers. Naturally, the scientific research institute coped brilliantly with the order, making a revolution in this area in passing, but so far he has asked not a word for anyone: the work has not yet been completed. Leo played his part excellent. Denis Neurochip obediently wrote down all this nonsense, he had to pretendthat he delves into the technical details of the project in order to make a positive decision anyway. All the staff members turned around and looked at the chef's clothes as if on cue, as if someone had suggested them, in a low voice released some comments. The chief, of course, blushed, was nervous, cursed in a low voice, answered questions inadvertently, Leo instead of not noticing it, politely raised his left eyebrow, or smiled no less politely with the words: "If you do not understand something, you ask" let loose in incomprehensible explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.as if someone had suggested to them, in a low voice released some comments. The chief, of course, blushed, was nervous, cursed in a low voice, answered questions inadvertently, Leo instead of not noticing it, politely raised his left eyebrow, or smiled no less politely with the words: "If you do not understand something, you ask" let loose in incomprehensible explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.as if someone had suggested to them, in a low voice released some comments. The chief, of course, blushed, was nervous, cursed in a low voice, answered questions inadvertently, Leo instead of not noticing it, politely raised his left eyebrow, or smiled no less politely with the words: "If you do not understand something, you ask" let loose in incomprehensible explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.you ask, "let out in the long obscure explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.you ask, "let out in the long obscure explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.
In the end, an endless chain of similar laboratories merged into one continuous white spot, there were some kinds of deputies, department heads, leading experts and just friends of Leo. It was necessary to greet everyone with everyone, to get acquainted, to discuss their scientific ideas, in which Denis saw no point. All this, mixed with praise for the material and technical base of the scientific research institute, was apparently considered to be a bad tone - to give strangers to doubt the unlimited power of the organization. If only there was some little thing that didn’t suit anyone: there was no cream in the coffee shop in the buffet, or the bushes in the park were crooked, but no, everything is perfect.
This epic ended in a hefty conference room on the second floor, one wall of which was completely occupied by a crystal-clear window overlooking the park. Literally ten meters from them, a small streamlet murmured, cyberseaders enthusiastically courted exotic vegetation, such as bright tropical flowers, obviously not adapted for these latitudes and seasons. In the peaceful park trees, hand squirrels galloped, two employees, of the botan type, tried to depict some kind of physical activity on a training ground nearby. The picture was the most idyllic, it was impossible to imagine that here ruthlessly shred people for power and money.
Funny robot blinked delivered them a late lunch or an early dinner, at which they gathered to discuss the latest details. The conversation initially struck up pretty casual, mostly about new Japanese cars, or about past corporate parties. Denis preferred to remain silent, despite the delicate attempts of Schultz to talk to him. The twins occasionally smiled, in unison letting go of politically correct jokes, emphasizing with their whole appearance that they are here, in principle, nobody, one is the main carrier of the laptop, the other is the deputy chief carrier. Anton naturally ate three throats and chatted incessantly, trying to show his business and other awareness, blabbing including quite confidential information. The chef did not even try to reason with him, and in general he felt clearly uncomfortable, this kind of thing happens to a personwho understands that out of mercenary motives he has become entangled in a dirty business, where at best he plays the role of a presiding president. Gradually, the chef’s appetite disappeared altogether, he gloomily picked food and reluctantly flipped through the protocol with which Leo increasingly spammed over the network and offered to sign.
- Denis, did anything happen to you? - Leo left Lapin alone for a while and decided to attack the taciturn subordinates.
- No, why do you think so?
- Well, are you just silent all the time, or maybe you are hiding something from us?
“Oh, what are you,” Anton gladly stood up for his colleague, “Denis just recently has so many problems: at work and in his personal life, as far as I know.
Leo sympathetically shook his head:
- Well, it means it is necessary to correct the mood.
The robot garcon readily opened the trailer, in which a whole battery of various bottles was placed on the rotating drum.
- Do you prefer strong drinks, wine?
“I prefer tea,” said Denis dryly, “with lemon, please.”
- Oh, what are you, what kind of tea at this time of day. Here, I recommend Scotch whiskey.
Leo was not too lazy to pour the viskarik himself into the glasses and in exact throws to send the portions to the guests.
- So, I think it's time we do away with certain formalities. You understand that without a protocol, it turns out that our day was intense and intense, but somewhat to no avail. And you and I need to somehow report to the leadership.
- Yes, for a banquet, - Denis growled.
“Well, including,” Leo agreed without embarrassment.
- And you write down on hospitality.
“I’ll write off, but only if the protocol ...
Leo guiltily spread his hands, as if to say:“ I'm not some kind of beast, but I have to report to the viskarik. ”
Lapin had such a look, as if he were willing to pay in sufficient quantity from his own pocket any alcoholic beverages in sufficient quantities to knock Schultz down.
“Yes, of course, only I will first go out for a smoke,” the chief found, “aren't you here smoking?”
“No, they do not smoke,” Leo smiled indulgently, like a well-fed cat from boredom who gave a mouse a reprieve before an imminent execution, “walk along the corridor to the right to the end, there you can smoke on the balcony.”
“We will soon, literally five minutes,” the chief mumbled, slapping his pockets fussily, “Dan, you will go, otherwise I seem to have forgotten cigarettes.”
- Yes, I'm coming.
The balcony consisted of a whole terrace with comfortable seating and a view of the pretty hateful park.
“Here are the goons,” Lapin boomed, flopping into a chair, “who would have let us have such a smoking room.” And this Schultz is Hans aspiring ... "we will write off for hospitality, but only if the protocol ...". With a leg bastard, and then builds himself ...
- Listen, chef, I do not think that in this building there is at least a millimeter of space that is not listening and not visible. Can we discuss delicate questions by personal chat?
- Yes, they all went. There is only one delicate question, how would I get rid of the protocol? Well, we arrived, we walked, and we will send the signed protocol in a week. I’ll go on vacation three days later, Anton will sign, he’s here, bitch, an enthusiastic Stakhanovist. And we are able to translate arrows, let it then Arumov foul in all cracks.
“That's right, of course, you argue,” agreed Denis, slowly dragging on, “but we must somehow justify the delay. So simply, our hero Schulz will not say: we will send in a week, because he will not get rid of.
“He won't lose it,” the chief smoked nervously and hastily, “listen, Dan, you're a smart guy, wake up with brains.”
- I like everyone else: I did not read the documents very much. Yes, and I do not understand anything in biophysics and nanorobots.
- I did not read it, but I need to otmazyvatsya.
- What did Arumov say about the protocol?
- But what will he say, you understand how this is done: you analyze everything carefully and if there are no serious remarks, sign.
- So you need to find comments in the materials or protocol.
“Thank you, cap,” he saluted Lapin caustically with a cigarette, “but I myself didn’t guess.” This Schultz will smear us with any comments on the wall. And if you do not understand, they have agreed on everything with Arumov for a long time and, God forbid, he will call him. Here it is necessary to find such a stop-based, reinforced-concrete remark, so that no one prikopalsya.
- Where can you find it ...
They were silent for a couple of minutes, admiring the sunset nature through clouds of smoke.
“Nothing special comes to mind,” began Denis, “but let's at least draw some time, maybe Schulz sucks his viskari and goes to sleep.”
- Do you suggest sitting here until he gets drunk?
- No, you can politely pull. Let's ask him to show Telecom super-soldiers. Like, show the goods by face, otherwise we go for a whole day wandering around, but we have not seen the most interesting.
- It is unlikely that everything is so simple, maybe they are not even here, and they have already been shown to Arumov.
“Well, since Arumov was shown, let him take the pressure off himself.” For me, so the request is the most trivial. You want to sell something, show the goods first face. And the longer they look here for them, gather and so on, the better. We still think about it ...
- We ’ll think ... we can think like that all night, to sense something ... However, let's try, you see, Hans really spits on everything and rolls it off.
By the prospect of something else to demonstrate Leo, naturally, treated with ill-concealed annoyance.
“Well, I hope you realize that I cannot arrange a small, victorious war for you to see with your own eyes?” He asked, not too politely.
“Why do we have a war right away,” Denis spread his hands, “I’ll splash us some more, do you mind?”
- Of course, be so kind.
- So, we would like to see the units of super-soldiers, which RIAS Research Institute has. You undoubtedly use your own development? And at the same time trying out your unique combat command and control system, we have heard so much about it ...
- Oh, fine, I don’t have to confuse half of our security service. And we do not use terms like “super-soldiers”. For your information, they are the same people as you. We say - special units.
- I understood. Sorry. There is no need to lift the entire security service over your ears; three or four people are enough and to include your wonderful program.
- Such requests should be warned in advance. This is to be approved, at least, by the deputy of the security service ...
- Leave, Leo, will you really refuse us a trifling request? We do not deny you anything. Apparently, our assistants confused something with the agenda of the meeting, we were absolutely sure that the event was agreed.
Kidd addressed Denis with an ironic look, but, having stumbled upon Lapin’s threatening face, immediately confusedly nodded and climbed into his mail:
- Yes, yes, I'm sorry I messed up, even a letter from the management asking ...
- Yes, include a demonstration of the use of special forces ..., - Dick came to the rescue.
“We are to blame, we are completely shocked,” said the brothers in chorus.
Leo twisted, watching this mediocre performance, but propriety was respected, therefore, grumbling a little more, he suggested to wrap up with a meal.
A few large recliner chairs, similar to massage ones, rolled over. Leo explained that at first they will demonstrate the capabilities of a tactical simulator and a combat control system, and this is best done in full immersion. The capacity of the internal network of SRI RSAD completely allowed to realize the functions of full immersion without connecting to the terminal, and the chairs could replace the biowann for a couple of hours. The real, not virtual, super-soldiers were promised to show them later. Leo got a little more involved about the fact that along with the informational materials, he also sent out demo versions of all the programs. Lapin, in response, quite frankly offered not to show off. But in the end, everyone calmed down, lay down comfortably and launched a network application.
The quiet Moscow region evening faltered and began to blur as if someone had splashed water on a watercolor drawing: the designers had done their best. We began to vaguely guess some kind of outlines - and this was the case, at least for Denis. The half-formed image blinked and went out a couple of times, and the whole surrounding space disappeared along with it. Disappeared and immediately appeared again, but still the feeling was unpleasant: as if you were suddenly blind. An alarming red window unfolded right in front of the nose, requiring a reboot of the system.
Denis cursed and removed the ribbon of the flexible tablet. The old neurochip refused quite often, and Denis each time commemorated the very unkind word of the creators of this device. Although his neurochip, in general, was not such, representing a very antediluvian system of contact lenses, miniature headphones and an external tablet that performed the functions of a computer, transmitting signals to lenses and headphones through several wires implanted under the skin. Compared to any, the most overwhelming provincial of the Russian hinterland, not to mention cyborg like Dr. Schulz, Denis was completely free from alien interference in the body.
In all, of course, there are pleasant moments. But it became possible to observe the life of a corporation in a more natural and relaxed atmosphere, without any service programs there. It was very pleasant to see that the park is not so perfectly trimmed and symmetrical, that the lush tropical greenery of the rarest species, planted next to the streamlet, all these huge bright flowers that do not exist in nature are not the painstaking work of many geneticists and gardeners, and the hackwork is only a couple of computer rats and one designer, and that is not the best. With all kinds of butterflies and flocks of hummingbirds, he clearly overdid it. But the most pleasant discovery was that Dr. Schultz, like an aging maiden, greatly abused not only cosmetics, but also clever programs that mask his true identity. And his face is slightly wrinkled and tired, and his eyes are swollen,there are a lot of wrinkles and the shirt is not so dazzlingly white. It looks just like an ordinary person, and not the main researcher of a huge research institute - it’s nice to see.
Denis’s blooming physiognomy is the first thing that came before the doctor’s eyes when he returned to the ordinary world. The rest of the team continued to stare somewhere with a blank stare. The doctor was very puzzled, if not shocked. Two ambala security guards and a man in civilian clothes, most likely the doctor on duty, hurried to them. “They probably thought that I should now, like a blind mole, who was pulled out of a hole, rush screaming about the room, bumping into robots and crushing bottles with expensive liquor,” thought Denis and smiled even wider.
“It's all right, gentlemen,” he said, without ceasing to smile, “I have a very old chip, if it fails, it automatically turns off. I'm alright.
- How old is he? - the run up doctor was surprised, he naturally did not expect that help was not required. Any modern model was too deeply tied to the human nervous system, and even restarting or reinstalling the operating system of the chip itself turned into a medical problem.
“Oh, very old,” said Denis evasively, “even the function of total immersion does not work well in it.
- Where did you find this? - the doctor shook his head in bewilderment and made a sign to the guards to leave, he was very upset that because of such nonsense as the old neurochip, he was torn off from more pleasant things and forced to run headlong to the aid of a man who seems to be fine. - We would have long found time and replaced it with a new one. And then go with such rubbish in your head - your own head, not official.
- That's it. I do not trust anyone to dig in my head, sorry.
- This is a phobia, it is easily treated, - indignantly growled growled angry doctor, and went after the guards.
Now Leo seemed very interested in this story. I must say, he knew very well how to hide his feelings, but now for some reason he did not find it necessary to hide his surprise. Yes, the venerable doctor understood all sorts of different cybernetics and, in contrast to the retreating doctor, was extremely meticulous and curious.
- Something you darken, dear friend. Neurochips, which can simply be turned off or reloaded, have not been released for sixty years, I guess. Yes, no one would simply implant such rubbish, and he would not be able to register in our local network.
- What difference does it make to you?
- Frankly, I am intrigued. You are an extremely unusual person, Denis, - from the tone of Leo, the usual cold courtesy disappeared somewhere
- I'm glad to hear, just do not get me friends.
- And what, you and have no friends?
- In fact, no one has friends, this is self-deception.
“Where does this cynicism come from?”
- Just a sober look at human nature.
- Ok, Denis, you do not think that I want to be your friend. I also do not really believe in strong male friendship.
Leo grinned crookedly, poured himself more whiskey and pulled a huge ashtray out of the same trailer and a set of dark golden cigars smelling like closed elite clubs where imposing uncles decide who will become president tomorrow and when it is time to bring down the blue-chip quotes.
“Disgusting, of course, but I like to break the rules,” he explained.
Denis reacted to these preparations and the obvious desire of the doctor to establish closer contact with some suspiciousness and politely refused the proposed smoking stump.
“You see, I’m interested in unusual people,” Leo explained, “only really unusual, but you know, everyone pretends to be unusual, but in fact they are fighting against the system only from the depths of their cozy biovans.”
- Why did you decide that I am against the system?
- Why then need a similar chip? Modern networks are quite safe - computer terrorism and hackers have long gone out of fashion.
- My job is not safe.
“Well, well, otherwise I’m looking so gloomy all the time, just kidding, of course.” But do not powder my brains. I am willing to bet that the matter is much more serious ...
- You shouldn’t get into my life, it’s mine, and I’m doing what I want with it.
- Of course, but it is silly to conduct a policy of double standards in relation to oneself.
- In terms of?
- In direct, you are like a sensible guy who does not believe in people, and rightly so. But therefore, it is doubly foolish to believe that your life in this cruel world belongs to such an essentially insignificant being as yourself.
- At least in my head only I am registered.
The doctor grinned again.
- You know, I have here requested information about you, do you mind?
“He wants to annoy me, apparently,” Denis decided.
- No, of course, I suggest that you also come to my house and rummage in dirty socks.
Leo only grinned in good-humored way.
“About the way Russian corporations are protecting personal information, I don’t have any illusions,” Denis smiled knowingly at Leo's smirk.
“I just don’t leave too much information about myself,” he said to himself.
- So, you are not registered in any social networks, you do not have a credit history, which in itself, by the way, is suspicious. There is no large property, although it may be framed for relatives ... but it does not matter. The most amazing thing is that you do not have medical insurance and there seems to be no record of the implantation of the neurochip.
- I told you, I don’t trust anyone to dig into my head.
- That is, there is no chip? - the doctor's eyes glittered like a hunting dog that had taken a trail. - So, there is only an external device that simulates his work.
- You say that as if it is against the law.
- Technically, of course, there is nothing illegal in it. But in practice, this is very discouraged when the registration of the chip in networks is untied from the person himself. I still do not really understand why you need it? After all, you yourself doom yourself to the lack of normal work, well, I don’t take into account the work in the Russian Empire stubs ...
- Thank you, I like working in stubs.
- No, seriously, you don't even go anywhere in Europe, I'm not talking about Mars anymore. More precisely, how lucky, depending on how well your device simulates the operation of a normal chip.
“I will go wherever I want, this is an old military model, created specifically for the higher ranks of the army and the MIC, but it was ahead of its time for many generations,” Denis decided to brag. - In addition to the emergency shutdown function, there is a lot of things in my machine: you can, for example, selectively turn off incomprehensible information flows that sometimes appear on the network.
- Any neurochip is able to defend against virus programs, especially in modern networks, they really have almost none.
- I was not talking about viruses.
- What about then?
- Is it so important?
“I’m interested,” Leo said emphatically, politely, “maybe there are some incomprehensible flows of information in our network, it would be extremely unpleasant.
- There are, they are in almost all networks.
- What a nightmare, and you would not agree to go to other divisions of Telecom to identify ...
- My friend, Leo, I don’t understand your humor, I talked about cosmetic and other service programs that are essentially no different from viruses: brazenly climb into my skull with the full, among other things, the connivance of the developers of operating systems for network servers and neurochips, which do not provide any means of protection against such interference.
- Do you really believe in these machinations of the yellow press, that you can turn ordinary people into slaves of virtual reality at the click of a finger?
- I am quite ready to believe that this is being done permanently for commercial purposes, and I want to see the world with my own eyes.
“Ah, what are you talking about?” Leo sighed with relief, “I can assure you that at least in European and Russian networks the user is always notified about the operation of such programs, and any cases of illegal intrusion are carefully monitored and unscrupulous providers lose their license.” I also want to assure you that the new operating system developed by our institute has special measures for protecting users, very serious measures.
- Save, please, praise to your own program for someone else.
“You literally doubt every word of mine: it will be hard for us to work together.” Actually, well, even if the providers are not being followed very carefully, but what difference does it make: well, you see, it’s not something that really is. And in fact, all smart people are well aware that cosmetic programs are one continuous divorce. Here you bought, for example, a prog for five hundred eurocoins, so that the cubes on your stomach appear or your chest grows into a couple of sizes. And another fool richer paid a thousand for the firewall of the same office and makes fun of you. Well, if you're a fool, then buy a super-cosmetic program for two thousand ... and so on, until the money runs out.
“And I'll just take off the lenses and save a couple thousand.”
- If desired, any cosmetic program can be circumvented without such victims.
“I know,” agreed Denis, “they are generally unreliable, there are all kinds of mirrors, reflections, and so on.
“Well, with mirrors and reflections, the problem was solved long ago, but any external device such as a camera, especially not connected to the network, often allows you to detect the work of a cosmetic program by simply viewing the footage. In fact, this service normally works only on Mars, or in some local networks.
- Yeah, like your network. I didn’t want, of course, to start this conversation, but, let's say, you’ve got a lot of ink.
Leo addressed the other person a smile full of caustic irony.
- And I thought that in the local network I am a king, god and great moderator in one person, and then some lieutenant appeared and caught me so easily. Woe to me, get drunk, perhaps. You, by the way, pour too, have a snack, do not be shy. And believe me, your advantage over a simple man in the street is rather ephemeral, but you create a lot of obvious problems for yourself.
“And what did he cling to me, and the bastard is still drinking,” thought Denis, “although I perform my task: he completely forgot about the protocol.”
“You think you are superior to others with something,” Leo continued to rant, waving his cigar towards those who lay motionless, staring at the ceiling, nearly sprinkling them with ashes, “this is also an illusion, no worse and no better than other generally accepted illusions . Man generally lives in the captivity of illusions, no matter what form they are presented. In different epochs this could be Hollywood and cadilla waving on Sundays and other nonsense. And to deny neurochips is the same thing as to deny progress as such: after all, it is obvious that humanity has no other way to step to the next step of development, except for direct modification of the mind and, if I may say so, human nature. The development of our civilization can be successful only if it is based on an adequate improvement of the person himself. Admit that hairless monkeys,in fact, controlled by their instincts and other atavisms, but sitting on a pile of thermonuclear missiles - this is a kind of civilizational deadlock. The only way out of it is to improve your mind by the power of your own mind, such recursion is obtained. The emergence of neurotechnology is the same qualitative leap forward as the creation of a scientific method.
- You know, in my opinion, you should not be crucified in front of a hairless monkey like me. You have a good swag in the sharag, escort services for clients would not hurt.
“Come on,” Leo said. - How would you react to the prospect of moving your mind straight to the quantum matrix? Can you imagine what opportunities open up? Control yourself as if by a computer program, simply erasing or changing certain pieces of firmware. Your neurophobia could be fixed in one motion.
- Fuck this happiness. But seriously, I don’t think that the person will remain a person after that, but rather the output will be a very complex program. Of course, I have no idea what rationality is and whether it can be turned into ones and zeros and, say, add someone more intelligence ... In short, I don’t believe that a computer program can correct itself.
“You may not believe, but this is more like a primal fear of technology, which is so incomprehensible that it seems akin to witchcraft.” This is absolutely logical limit of our development, after which a new stage in history will begin. Is it not beautiful - the intangible world will finally triumph over the mortal physical sheath. You could become like a deity: move spaceships, conquer the stars. Being a human being, you are forever bound by this meager speed of light, you will never conquer the universe, except the one closest to us. A quantum mind with the help of "fast communication" can be worn across the galaxy at the speed of thought and wait millions of years until its vehicles reach Andromeda.
- Wait a million years, but I will erase myself from boredom. I personally like the prospect of hyperspace cruisers and the conquest of the Andromeda nebulae in the spirit of senseless and merciless social realism.
- Fantasy, and not scientific. The way I described to you is real. This is our future, no matter how you are afraid of it and do not want to convince yourself of the opposite.
“Maybe I won't even argue.” And once again I remind you that for your PR campaign the wrong target audience has been chosen.
- This is not a PR campaign?
- Of course, we are thinking about the fate of mankind. Nevertheless, there are vague suspicions that our conversation is a cleverly disguised advertising campaign of Telecom products: only today, rewrite your consciousness on the quantum matrix and get a miracle electric grill as a gift.
Leo just snorted.
- Can you also hate advertisers? Damned traders, is not it?
- There is some.
“You can still survive on our little backward territory, but, for example, on Mars, if you allow yourself to settle there, you will look like a real outcast, just like a man walking around the city on a horse, with a sword on his side.”
- Well, okay. Suppose even I have certain problems, but I absolutely do not want to "talk" about it. I like to be the marginal image of which you diligently draw. No, not even that, I like to destroy myself, I find in this a kind of masochistic pleasure. And I still do not understand where this psychoanalytic itch came from.
- I apologize for persistence, I have a brother - a psychoanalyst, working in one very interesting office on Mars. It would be interesting for you to get acquainted with its activities.
- Why?
- It is, oddly enough, the most piquant way confirms your, in general, not particularly logical phobias.
- Why all the time phobias? Why do you think I'm afraid of something?
- Firstly, everyone is afraid of something, and secondly, if you talk about you, you are still afraid of neurochips and virtual reality. You are afraid that they will get into your head for someone's malicious intent and tweak something there.
“Can't that happen?”
- Maybe the world around it in principle has a similar property. But you can not zakuklitsya and look at the world through the aquarium glass until his death.
- This is a big question, who looks at the world from the aquarium. I don’t mind changing, but I want to change according to my will as much as possible.
- It is still a big question, whether a person can change of his own will, or something should always push him.
- I am not going to play philosophy with you. Just accept as a fact, I have such a life credo: the network should not have power over me.
- Credo, very curious.
Leo hesitantly paused and leaned back in his chair, as if pulling away slightly from the interlocutor. He looked displeased at Lapin, who fidgeted in his chair, no, he could not hear and see this conversation, and all his movements were clear and precise, precisely calculated by a computer. Thus, the neurochip prevented the muscles from leaking and restored normal blood circulation, so that the person did not feel like a stiff doll after several hours of immobile sitting. Eerie people look during a complete immersion, sort of like sleeping, but with open eyes. Breathing is even, the face is calm and serene, and even such a person can be awakened: the neurochip responds to external stimuli and interrupts the immersion. But who knows if the same person will look at you upon returning from the virtual world.
- Credo, it means. That is, you want to say that you always follow certain rules. Can we call it a code, a code of hate for neurochips and martians? - stubbornly continued to analyze Leo. - So, some provisions of your code are already clear to me.
- what are the same?
- We formulate it this way: leave as few traces as possible. The rest follows from this global principle: do not take loans, do not register on social networks and so on. I guess?
Denis only frowned in response.
- No cybernetic intervention in the body - the second obvious rule. Clear the soul and mind you must, young Padawan. Well and, for sure, the standard set to boot: do not have attachments, do not trust anyone, do not be afraid of anything. You know what's really interesting in all this?
- And what?
- You do not pretend and strictly follow the rules of your code. Do you, by the way, have no followers, disciples?
“You can sign up for my first free seminar.”
“Still, this is a phobia,” with these words, Leo sat back further and contentedly, “and so strong that you built a whole theory around her.” This is not as easy as it seems, to resist all the life of the corrupting influence of the Martians. To do this, you need to have some kind of supervaluable idea, or be very afraid of something. Just think how simple it is, several hundred euro-points, a two-day stay in the medical center, and all the pleasures of the world at your feet. Yachts, cars, women or orcs with elves, just reach out and take.
Denis did not answer, shrugging his shoulders in irritation. He underestimated the ability of the doctor to get into the interlocutor's soul. Yes, a person who has lived under a hundred years and has at its disposal an entire staff of professional psychoanalysts, with the Martian brother in addition, must have a perfect mastery of such techniques. Denis had no doubt that this staff of psycho- and other analysts existed, and during the important negotiations Leo, for sure, uses their services. However, in this situation, it was hardly worthwhile to fence a complicated conspiracy theory; Denis simply relaxed and inadvertently revealed his true nature. Yes, damn it, he is afraid of neurochips and virtual reality, he feels like a hunted wolf in a world where the territory of “pure reality” is inexorably shrinking every day. And he, by and large,I never even tried to understand the reasons for my hatred. What makes him so stubbornly reject the seemingly quite obvious truth of life? Perhaps, he is really just a desperate marginal, subconsciously feeling his inability to fit into modern society? “I'm just a ghost,” thought Denis, “of flesh and blood, but a ghost living in a world that has long been of no interest to anyone. Where almost no one left.
“I would set good psychologists on you,” Leo seemed to be guessing thoughts, “they would have devoured you with giblets, I'm joking again, of course, do not pay attention.” This is not often hear, most people do not understand.
- And you mean you understand?
“Well, yes, I have a lot of life experience, appreciate it,” Leo smiled slightly. - There is such an interesting psychological effect: no one is inconvenienced by the fact that there is a chip in his head that completely controls his nervous system and which can potentially be controlled by someone else. As I said, even if you see a little something that really is, so what? Maybe your behavior is even slightly corrected in something, well, okay, it's still better that way than when being kicked and bludgeoned with sticks. Let's assume that the network is created and controlled not by man, but by some infallible supreme being. The modern world is too complex and incomprehensible, it is necessary to accept it as it is.
- It turns out this is no phobia at all.
- Yes, that is the reality, so your fears are doubly irrational. You might as well hate food producers for being able to control you with hunger. Or, for example, a gun attached to the head controls your behavior much more reliably than a clever tab in the chip's operating system.
- Do not you see the fundamental difference? It's one thing when you are controlled from the outside, but you realize who forces you and how, and quite another when it is done to bypass consciousness.
- And you do not understand that there is no difference, the result will always be the same: someone will control you. Previously, they were clumsy bureaucrats with a bunch of silly pieces of paper. They were not able to respond to the challenges of time, so they were replaced by more flexible and developed elites of transnational IT corporations. The control of the Martians is thinner and more complex, but it is no less reliable.
“That's it, I never forget who develops operating systems for network servers, and I don’t want to check for myself what kind of psychological effects they can create.”
- That is, you prefer the stupid pressure of a totalitarian state machine?
- Why should I choose from two obviously bad options?
- A rhetorical question? There would be another, wonderful in all respects option, I would also choose it. Okay, let's leave this topic. In the end, each of us has our own weaknesses, ”Leo generously suggested.
- Leave, it seems to me that we are a little bit messed up, our colleagues are probably worried.
- I do not think, most likely they are completely absorbed in what they see. Yes, we will join them now. Our administrator has solved your little problem, now in the application there is an option of partial immersion. Can you imagine how tight you were on Mars? The most innocent domestic action turns into a huge problem. But sooner or later, the Martian network standards will get even to these outskirts of civilization.
Denis is already rather tired of these hints of his slight underdevelopment. He wanted to flare up, but, catching the cold-mocking gaze of the interlocutor, he realized that it was necessary to look for a better answer.
- I see our conversation, in addition to discussing my horrific phobias, all the time comes down to Mars: Mars, Mars-se ... Why would it? It seems that not only do I have certain complexes.
“Well, I told you, everyone has them.”
- But you do not want to disclose them.
“You can disclose it,” Leo generously allowed.
- Why, I probably will save such interesting information.
“Save,” Leo grinned even wider, “do you think that the information that I have special feelings for Mars has some value?” I will tell you more, I do not mind changing the hateful Russian reality to the Martian one.
- But you want not just to move, otherwise you would have long gone after your brother. You want to occupy the same position there as here. But, apparently, does not go, the Martians do not recognize you as equal?
For a single moment, something like an old rage awoke in Leo’s eyes, but then disappeared.
- I will have a chance to improve the situation. But maybe you are right, to anything this senseless digging in other people's problems, let's better think about how to help each other.
- And how can we help each other? - Denis was surprised, he did not expect such a turn of conversation.
“I can help in solving, for example, your psychological problems,” Leo answered with a hint of voice. “A branch of the Mars Land company DreamLand has recently opened in Moscow, they specialize in the healing of human souls. Go to them.
“Is he kidding? - thought Denis. “If there is some hidden meaning in his words, I didn’t catch it.”
“Well, I’ll come in, and what are you going to give me a discount on their services?”
- Yes, no problem, my brother works there, only in the head office on Mars. I will arrange for you a decent discount, - Leo said this in the most everyday tone, as if it was a trivial service for a friend, but still a slight hint of voice was preserved.
“How can I help you?”
- It is considered. First go to the “DreamLand”, they are not wizards there either, all of a sudden they will be able to do nothing.
“Some kind of strange proposal, but, apparently, we are talking about some kind of informal contacts that it is desirable to hide from prying eyes - concluded Denis. “Well, in the end, I have nothing to lose, I’ll look into this rotten Martian desk.”
- Well, I’ll come back the other day, if the time is up, - just as outwardly it makes no difference, but Denis agreed with a slight hint in his voice.
- That's great. And now please welcome to the wonderful world of augmented reality, since a normal virtual world is not available to you.
This time there were no theatrical effects, a huge hologram unfolded almost instantly, closing the available review. In the hologram, Denis was sitting on a chair in the same pose, a little behind everyone. The console control your avatar appeared on the left. He automatically tried to look behind his back, the image immediately grew dull and jerky. Leo, oddly enough, also decided to confine himself to a simple hologram, Denis could only assume that the doctor was worried about his condition.
Their eyes presented a picture of a secret underground bunker, where they conduct forbidden experiments on people. Solid metal and concrete, gray uneven walls, the roar of powerful fans, dim fluorescent lights under the ceiling. The room at the moment seemed abandoned, huge autoclaves no longer worked. Their insides, cleaned and washed clean, with an interlacing of bowel-like tubes and hoses, shamelessly peeking through the translucent doors. Now they were located almost in the center of the room, next to computer terminals and holographic projectors, which at the moment were displaying some kind of schemes, graphs and diagrams, as well as a model of a combat cybernetic system, that is, a super soldier. For Denis, it was a hologram in a hologram, for those who used full immersion, the impression was probably somewhat different.Super-soldiers, I must say, this very impression was made by its very pumped up and militant appearance.
The opposite side of the hall, fenced off by barbed wire under high voltage, smoothly passed into gloomy caves, in the depths of which were built chambers taken with steel rods as thick as a human hand. From there came a muffled, but still chilling soul roar. Most likely, there were samples of super-soldiers who did not go into the series. All these gloomy dungeons could hardly be taken at face value, but it seemed to Denis that such mockery of his own project was not to the face of a serious Martian corporation.
Of the staff of the Institute, another person was present, short in size, in a white coat, draped over his shoulders, neat and taut; with his right hand he rather casually handled numerous holograms and spoke about something animatedly. He had blond hair and gray attentive eyes. One strand of hair was replaced by a bundle of light guide filaments. “Our top chip developer,” this is a flattering explanation from Leo in a low voice. However, it was unnecessary: ​​Maxim, that was the name of the developer, having caught sight of Denis, interrupted his story and almost yelled with a joyful cry, stopped literally at the last moment, apparently read the explanation of the system that Denis is present in their full immersion Only in the form of an avatar.
- Dan, is it really you? I never expected to meet you here.
- Mutually. You said that you work for Telecom, but it seems that it was about the Martian office.
“I had to return for the duration of the project,” Max replied evasively.
- Long time we have not seen.
- Yes, maybe five years, - Maxim uncertainly stopped, as it turned out, they have nothing to say to each other.
- And you have changed a lot, Max, you found a good job and you look good ...
- But you, Dan, have not changed at all, in fact, people can change in five years, find a new job there ...
- Do you know? - Leo finally recovered from the new shock. - However, a stupid question. You do not stop surprising me.
“We studied in the same school,” Denis explained.
- Oh, what are you, - Anton immediately got into the conversation, the situation seemed to amuse him greatly, - Denis is a mystery man in general, an antique neurochip is something else. Is it not clear that they are bound by long and reverent relationships, so if we find out the details of this relationship, then we probably will not be so surprised ...
- Colleagues, - Lapin with a decisive gesture removed his giggling deputy, - Maxim was going to finish his story, and then we so lost a lot of time.
- Ok, then we'll talk, - Max uncertainly went to his old place
The subsequent story turned out to be somewhat crumpled, the speaker began to “hang out” sometimes, as if he was thinking about something of his own, but still it was interesting. Since Denis from the materials provided by SRI RSAD for acquaintance, mastered only the table of contents, he learned a lot from this story for himself. Of course, Max did not give out any special secrets, but he spoke quite simply and with great knowledge of the matter. It followed from his words that many such projects in the past ended in complete or partial failure due to an incorrect initial concept. The predecessors of the Research Institute of the Russian Academy of Arbitration Studies, enthusiastic about the possibilities of cloning and genetic modifications, constantly tried to rivet an army of monsters that looked like orcs, or werewolves, or some other dubious characters. Nothing worthwhile came of it: for that rather long term,which was required for the maturation of individuals (at least ten years old, and it is still unknown how many failed experiments), the project managed to lose its relevance. In the sick imagination of some "cybernetic" born and more daring experiments to create completely unreasonable individuals who are ready to go into battle immediately after hatching from the carcasses of the infected population, but they should rather be classified as biological weapons. The divisions of ghosts who fought for their homeland and the emperor were mentioned as one of the few projects brought to mind, but he also received a disappointing verdict: “Yes, interesting, exotic, but does not represent special value for study. And besides, - here Max frowned in disgust, - all this is extremely immoral, and combat effectiveness has not been proven. ” Then Denis suddenly realized that he was attractive, in quotes,interior design is not a mockery of its own organization, but of its less successful predecessors.
I wonder if the others appreciated these curious nuances? Denis sat behind everyone and could easily see the reaction of everyone. The chief seemed to be bored, with his impressive chin propped up with a plump hand, he was rather indifferently staring around, the twins conscientiously listened to every word, sometimes they clarified something and nodded their heads amicably after appropriate explanations. Anton, of course, tried with all his might to show that he, unlike some, studied the materials thoroughly and constantly interrupted the speaker with remarks like: “Ah, that’s what it is, he couldn’t figure out exactly how the nanobots are involved in tissue regeneration, In your remarkable manual, this question, in my opinion, is not fully covered. ” At first, Max tried very gently to explain to Anton that he was slightly mistaken or reduced everything to a dilettante-primitive level.and then became just agree with him. Denis literally skin felt mocking smile on the face of Leo.
The main idea and feature of the RSAI Research Institute project was that all the work was carried out with experienced professional soldiers. The interested organization selected the best employees from the ranks of its own security service, preferably in good physical shape and not older than thirty years, and for about two months transferred them to the care of the scientific research institute. After a complex of surgeries, ordinary soldiers turned into super-soldiers. The procedure had no effect on the mental abilities of future super-soldiers, and was even partly reversible. Such a system, of course, had its drawbacks. Anyway, the man did not turn into a terminator. As explained by Max, although the soldiers and the most important component of the system, but without other components: unmanned modules, "smart" weapons and armor - they should not fight.Only the fusion of man and technology made the system truly deadly. It was clear that the purpose of the system was, above all, pinpoint special operations, and not a breakthrough of the Mannerheim lines. Yes, and such a soldier could be mistaken and fear. However, if Denis correctly interpreted some vague hints, then at the request of the client it was possible to make changes to the basic design: to take away the super-soldier’s fear, doubts and ability to discuss orders.
- Well, Maxim, - Leo could not stand it, apparently, he was limited in time, - I think we understood the main idea. Nobody mind if we proceed to the demonstration of a tactical simulator?
There were low-key cries of approval.
- Maxim, you are free.
Max politely said goodbye and hurried to disappear from the hologram. The doctor immediately joined the others in their complete immersion, and in a very strange way, which only Denis could appreciate. His hologram suddenly curved, dull and shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow, towards Leo, like a giant hungry amoeba, and separating the quivering translucent image from the body, completely absorbed everything in itself, leaving only the shell with empty eyes in the chair. For everyone else, of course, nothing unusual happened, Leo just got up from his seat and walked to the place where Max used to stand. He turned and looked at Denis with a cold grin.
Computer models of super-soldiers, completely devoid of the instinct of self-preservation, hung from head to toe with machine-gun belts and chained in black armor, stormed high-rise buildings, bunkers and underground shelters. They demonstrated space battles, planetary battles, night battles, when only bright trails of flying bullets are visible. The soldiers fled through the plasma fire, through the rows of enemy tanks and infantry, through minefields and burning cities, fled, not knowing fear and defeat in the vast tactical simulator.
- Dan, are you not very busy?
Unnoticed, Max picked up one of the empty chairs and sat down beside him.
- It seems no.
Denis tried to minimize the hologram to a small window, but someone forgot to add this option to the network application. In the end, he simply closed the connection via the tablet, sending a message to Leo so that the local ambulance would not come to him again.
“You know, I couldn’t even reduce this hologram of yours — typical telecom unceremoniousness,” he complained to Max.
- Is it different in INKIS?
- No, maybe even worse: we have old networks.
“Dan, you haven't changed at all.”
- What did I say that?
- Nothing special, you have always had such a healthy criticism of your own organization. How are you still holding up there?
- So I hold on, the work she is work, will not run away into the woods. Do you have something differently arranged?
Max responded with a mocking snort.
- Of course, in a different way. Martian corporations are not work, it is a way of life. We love the native syndicate and are faithful to him until his death.
- Do you sing hymns in the morning?
- No, we do not sing hymns, although I am sure: many would not mind. Everything is different here, Dan: his social circle, his schools for children, his shops, separate residential areas. His closed world, which is almost impossible to get into from the street, but I managed.
- Well, congratulations, but why did you suddenly descend from your telecom Olympus to simple Russian hard workers?
- I do not forget old friends.
- Then maybe you will attach an old friend to a warm place in Telecom?
- Are you sure that you want it?
- Do you have to sign blood, do not eat pork on Saturdays? If anything, I am ready and I can sing hymns.
- Much worse, for this work you are paying with yourself and your memories. You will have to voluntarily forget yourself and your past, otherwise the system will reject you. To become your own, you have to turn inside out. In principle, I wanted to do this: start a new life on Mars, and shove all this stupid, sloven Russian past away into a dusty closet. I was so bored by our country, everything seems to be arranged here in one place, in order to interfere with any rational activity. I thought a new life awaits me on Mars.
- Bro, do not bother, I was joking about the work. Look, the new life has disappointed you?
- No, why, I got what I wanted.
But Max’s eyes with these words were sad-sad. “I stayed in this fucking Telecom for half a day, but he already managed to get me,” thought Denis, “nothing can be said directly. Everyone takes a hidden camera. What an ass to show these curious freaks. "
Outside, the park quietly sank into twilight. In the conference room appeared younger comrades of the robot garcon - robots sweepers. They began to write out mathematically correct spirals around the interior, with a low growl, apparently cleaning brought them a lot of joy.
- Listen, Max, and the truth is talked about these ... tests for loyalty, well, when some programs are put on the chip that check all your conversations and actions on keywords and subjects, so that you don’t dare to substitute the organization, or too much ...
- True, the security service has a special department that writes such programs and selectively scans the records. One joy: officially, this structure is absolutely independent, no, not even the most important official of Telecom has the right to watch their files.
- Officially, but really?
- It seems also.
- And if you are in a foreign network, or in general there is no network, then how are they checking you?
- We are implanted with an additional memory module, which writes all the data entering your brain, and then automatically transfers them to the first section.
- And if you, for example, retired with a chick, do they also record everything?
- Be sure to carefully record, check and then the whole crowd watching and laughing.
- Sucks must be? - Denis asked with simulated sympathy.
- No normal! Do you care so much ?! You saw these, I do not know what to call them, the monsters from the first section of alcohol, they swim there in their banks ... but I don’t care what they are looking at.
Immediately, the two cleaning robots stopped, interestedly rotating cameras mounted on long flexible trunks. One stopped right next to Max, faithfully trying to look into the eyes, Max irritably kicked him, aiming at the camera, naturally did not hit: the tentacle with a soft buzz pulled back into the body, and the robot, out of harm's way, went to namyvat elsewhere.
- I do not care, I realized, even if anyone, even Schultz, climbs into my personal life. He, the brute, everywhere is sticking his long nose, I don't care, but I get paid a lot of money! Enough for an expensive car, apartment, yacht, house on the Cote d'Azur, everything is enough. I have ten times more money than you, I understand.
“I have no doubt that the last guard is paid more than me.” What have you got? - Denis was a little taken aback.
There was an awkward pause. Tension in the air perceptibly hung in the air, it was like mercury flowing down to the floor, gathering in a fixed glossy mirror of heavy metal. Poisonous fumes from him gradually enveloped the interlocutors. It became so quiet that the murmur of the stream was heard at dusk of the park outside the window.
- And what about Masha, you haven't gotten married yet? You didn't even invite me to the wedding.
- Masha? What ... well, Masha, no, we broke up, Dan.
There was another pause.
- What, do not even ask, how am I doing? - Denis broke the silence.
- So, how are you?
“Yes, you won’t believe everything is bad,” Denis began with readiness. - A hundred times worse than you. Not only my career, and maybe even life hang in the balance because of my new boss.
- Who is he?
- Andrey Arumov, the new chief of the Moscow security service, heard something about him?
“I haven’t heard anything good about him, Dan, seriously.” Stay away from him.
- It is easy to say, stay away, he sat down through two offices from me. And from whom did you find out about him?
Max hesitated a little.
- From Leo including.
- Yes, your Schulz is doing some dark things with the INCIS. And who is he, chief?
- Yeah, sorry, Dan, but about Leo, I can not really spread. He won't like it. What are your problems with Arumov, is he going to fire you?
- Not really. This, of course, is slander and slander, but he believes that I am somehow connected with the affairs of the former chief. It was recently quite sensational, in narrow circles, of course, the case of the detention of a gang of smugglers within the INKIS security service.
“Dan, you're talking so calmly about this,” Max’s face expressed sincere concern, “why are you still in Moscow?” I am not joking about Arumov, crushing a man for him is like a cockroach, he will stop at nothing.
- Where do these curious personal assessments come from, do you know him?
- No, I do not burn with desire. Dan, let me attach you to Telecom, somewhere far away from here. The organization will hide you. You will be given a new life.
- Wow, you have risen well up the career ladder, since you can make such offers on behalf of the organization.
- On the contrary, my career is now rather in a recession, to be honest, I am practically in exile here. But I have one friend in the leadership, or rather he was my friend ... In short, for his level, this is nothing and he will not refuse.
- You still shouted with this Schultz, congratulations.
- Leo has nothing to do with it, with him we are just not friends. Dan, let me get in touch today about this. I can't talk about it either, but I have some confidential information about Arumov. If you somehow crossed his path, you can not stay in Moscow. You need to hide and hide very well. He is a crazy fanatic with tremendous power.
- I can not work in Telecom.
- You implant a normal chip at the expense of the company, if you are talking about it.
- That's exactly why I can not.
- Dan, what a kindergarten, you are in mortal danger, and you all play in your adolescent non-conformism. When we were in school, it was cool, but now ... it's time to make a choice. You will not get away from the system, it will still have everyone.
“It doesn't seem like Max is just showing off with his proposal,” thought Dan. - Maybe this is fate: a strange, almost unbelievable meeting with an old friend. What have I achieved in the previous thirty years? Nothing, so it's silly to turn up the nose from such gifts. Fate gives me a chance to live a normal life: get a decent job, start a family, children. No, I, of course, will not turn this world over, but I will be happy. ” The ghost of the evenings by the fireplace, filled with children's laughter, beckoned him from a beautiful far, where everything was planned and painted half a century ahead. And from this hope for a simple, happy life on him so rolled, that already sank into the chest. I have to agree, Dan thought, growing cold, but his lips, practically against his will, uttered something quite different:
I will dial you as soon as I think of something.
- Do not pull with it, please.
- Ok, I can sort it out myself.
- With Arumov you will not understand, believe me.
- We drove, Max. How are your super-soldiers doing, will they show us today or not?
- Probably, they won't show it.
- Seriously, Lapin will be delighted, there will be a reason not to sign anything.
- Because of you, by the way. Soon Leo will announce that we will not be able to demonstrate the super-soldier due to technical problems, such as they are all on routine maintenance. But the real reason is that Leo does not want to show them to a person without cosmetic programs.
- Any problems with their appearance? But what about all that you sang about the social responsibility of Telecom five minutes ago?
“We all sometimes do what we are told to do.” Some problems with their appearance, of course. All these tales about the fact that our cyber-freaks normally socialize, just a fairy tale. More precisely, it is a fairy tale make expensive cosmetic programs. Without them, from our poor super-soldiers, everyone will shy away. Well, with the continuation of the kind, they, too, will not work. I fucking sincerely hope that they will not choose family guys.
- Still, your house on the Cote d'Azur has certain costs.
- This is not my project, I just stuffed here to clarify the situation. And so, of course, yes, don't care that this particular scientific research institute disfigures people for the sake of their vested interests, and those who want to do this will be found in any case. I just dreamed that I would use my talents more profitably: for example, to create new types of controlled retroviruses. A very promising area of ​​research, with them people may even cease to grow old and get sick.
- Well, your retroviruses can find different uses.
- So Yes. And you want to look at them, but not for the protocol, of course?
- To a super soldier? And Schultz does not suit you ein tsv for such amateur?
- No, the main thing is that it does not officially appear anywhere. All the really important people in the project have been in the know for a long time; this is not such a secret either. I do not really understand why he was scared there: maybe he does not want to injure the tender psyche of our cyber-killers. Someone will see them without make-up and they are disarmed, they will not sleep well, I don’t know. In short, do not chat to anyone and everything.
- I am not a talker. Show me.
- Then I ask for me.
Max walked forward with wide, confident steps. Denis constantly looked around and unconsciously tried to keep close to the wall. After they had crossed a long passage from an office building to another building and began to descend into real telecom dungeons, he immediately felt insecure. They took him too far away, there was nothing to think about to get back on their own. For the person sent to the link, Max very confidently passed through the automatic control points, and even with an outsider. First, they descended into the ground on a single elevator and passed through a steel hermetic gate with an orange stripe. Several more corridors passed, descended on another elevator to the door with a yellow stripe. They passed several scanning devices, then moved along a long white wall two floors high. As Max explained,behind it are high-class cleanrooms where molecular chips are grown. The descent was on one elevator and they were in front of the gate with a green stripe, but this time in front of it, behind a transparent partition, there were two armed guards. Under the ceiling, a remote-controlled gun rotated a pack of ten barrels.
“Wow, Petrovich,” Max greeted the elder. - Here the customer from INCIS came to admire our SS men.
“That's what you call them,” Denis chuckled.
“Actually, they already came from their office, there was such a stupid bald uncle here,” Petrovich answered uncertainly, “and you seem to have just concocted the application.”
“But I can escort guests to the green zone.”
- You can, of course, but let me dial your main thing. No offense, Max.
- No problem, dial.
Max took Denis aside.
“Leo will call,” he explained, “they can turn us around, but nothing, but they walked.”
“Aha, they walked - it’s super, but if I’m being hauled here from all the trunks, this will be annoying,” Denis replied, nodding at the gun under the ceiling.
- Do not worry, she seems to be shooting some kind of paralyzing bullets.
- And then there is nothing to worry about.
Five minutes later, Petrovich called them and spread his hands guiltily:
- Your boss does not answer.
- What is he so busy doing so, - Max was surprised. - Look, of course, but with the customer it is necessary more politely, and then the contract will be broken, and we all will get it.
“Now, even with the shift commander, I will grind ... Okay, go,” Petrovich said in another minute, “only, Max, do not expose me.”
- Do not worry, we have one eye and immediately back.
The gate with the green stripe swung open silently. Behind them was a hefty room with rows of lockers along the walls. Immediately before Denis's nose, a formidable warning appeared: “Attention! You enter the green zone. The movement of visitors in the green zone without being categorically prohibited. Violators will be immediately detained. ”
- Hey, Susanin, they promise to lay me here on the floor.
- The main thing - do not stick your nose where it is not necessary. And do not try to turn off the chip.
- I, perhaps, take off the lenses and headphones, but I will not turn off anything. I want to look at your handsome without makeup.
Denis gently hid the lens in a jar of water.
- Put on the suit, Dan, next is a clean zone.
After another small room, where they had to endure a cleansing aerosol shower, they finally had access to the secrets of Telecom. Further path lay through a shaded tunnel. A greenish light coming straight out of the walls, slowly flared up only ten to twenty meters in front of them, snatching small insect-like robots out of the gloom, the interweaving of some annular tubes and hoses. A small monorail walked along the ceiling, a couple of times over their heads sailed transparent sarcophagi, within which frozen faces and bodies floated. On the bodies in the sarcophagi, too, robots resembling octopuses and jellyfish were swarming. Sometimes there were windows in the wall. Denis looked into one of them: he saw a spacious operating room. In the center was a swimming pool filled with something like thick jelly. In it a gutted body swam,from which was a whole web of tubes to the equipment nearby. Above the pool there hung a robot-vivisector, which had emerged from nightmares, looking like a huge octopus. He cut and shred something inside the insensible organism. A laser beam flashed, at the same time a dozen tentacles with clamps, dispensers and micromanipulators dived deep into the body, they quickly did something and popped up again, the laser flashed again. Doctors apparently managed the operation remotely, in the room there was only one person in a deaf overalls with a mask on his face. He just watched the process. There was another sarcophagus standing by the wall, waiting for its turn. Max pushed his companion forward and asked not to open his mouth. Next nasty clicked and tapped with small metal paws insect robots. Out of the whole situation, they most of all strained Denis.It didn’t leave the impression that insidious cars gather in a flock in the greenish twilight behind them to suddenly roll in from all sides, stick sharp steel legs in soft flesh and drag them into the pool to a viviser robot that will methodically disassemble you into pieces. And you will float in several flasks, brains in one, and guts in the neighborhood.
- What kind of place is it? - Denis asked, trying to distract from the terrible thoughts.
- Automated medical center, here they carry out the most complex operations: they transplant organs, remove cancerous tumors, they can sew a third leg, if you ask, well, our SS men are also collected here. Us to the right.
Denis really didn’t want to enter the side door first, but Max impatiently snuffled from behind. Crouching involuntarily, he stepped inside and sneak a glance upward. The octopus was right there. Comfortably perched on a crane-beam under the ceiling, he busily picked up his mandibles and blinked viciously with a red eye.
- Look, Dan, our mini-army.
Max waved his hand towards the rows of transparent containers, where unusual creatures lay, forgotten by deep lethargic sleep.
- You can take off the vehicle, nobody will see here. I'll take it off too.
Denis stole an unpleasant silicone cloth and walked to the nearest container with stealthy steps. Perhaps it was once a man, but now the creature inside the human remains only general outlines. The humanoid was tall, about two meters, thin and very lean, muscles twined around his body like thick ropes. It looked more like an interlacing of ropes or roots of a tree, but in no way a human body. His skin was glossy black with a metallic sheen, like a polished car body covered with small scales. From a bald head fell a few thick steel whiskers half a meter in length. In some places from the body, the connectors came out. The black, sickle-shaped eyes were dimly reflecting a green light. On the back of his head was a pair of smaller eyes.
- Handsome man, - Denis commented on an unusual sight, - you will meet something like this on the street, you will put it in your pants. And why does he have a mustache on his head and scales?
- This is a vibrissae, such as an organ of touch, in order to catch the fluctuations of the environment, maybe something else is not sure. Scales - additional protection if the armor does not stand.
- You came up with such a monster?
- No, Dan, I did, at the very end I was finishing a couple of chips in the control system. If it is completely honest to say, the whole basic concept is stolen from the imperial ghosts. Everything, approximately, as I said, but the cunning retroviruses perform the main work on turning it into this miracle-yudo, they are slowly redrawing the genotype of the organism under the supervision of specialists. Only in the empire, retroviruses were injected directly into the egg cell, so the baby immediately got out of the autoclave creeping ugly, even more terrible than these. We simply do not have time to wait until they grow up, so the process was slightly refined and sped up. Of course, there is a certain loss of quality, but it will go for our purposes.
- I see you customers hang noodles on the ears.
- Let's just say, the real customer - Arumov knows much more.
- It is clear, and we are the type of small switchmen. There is someone to put up against the wall, if these freaks suddenly go berserk and start barraging.
- No, they will not start baragozit, the control is multistage and very reliable.
“So, if you licked all the ghosts, they also hate the Martians.”
“Yeah, your like-minded people,” Max grinned, “the Martians were driving with development, I think, they took care of the right object of class hatred.”
“How did the secret imperial viruses get to you?” - Denis asked in the most casual tone.
- I am not aware of this ... yes, it’s good to ask such questions, you know less, you will live longer. Let me better wake up a couple of SS men, get to know each other better.
Denis as scalded bounced off the container.
- Uh-uh, let's not. I got to know each other enough, and Schultz was probably there, waiting, swearing bad German words.
- Ok, Dan, do not be afraid. I give a tooth, everything is under control. They have software limitations, in principle they cannot attack or do something without an order.
- Software? I just do not trust the software limitations.
“Stop, they have a control chip in each muscle, it’s enough for me to type a command with the correct code, and they will fall down like a sack of potatoes.”
“A lousy idea after all.” Let's go better.
But Max was already unstoppable, he firmly set out to raise the monsters from the grave purely out of hooligan considerations.
- Five minutes wait. If you are really trying hard, a simple verbal cancellation code is now set up, say “stop”, they are immediately cut off.
- And if he closes his ears, the code will work?
“Everything will work,” Max had already conjured over the second container.
The octopus under the ceiling moved after him and helped to make some injections. Dan was ready to hug the robot as a mother, if only he drove the wrong stick. For some reason, the super-soldiers frightened him to shiver.
- Done.
Max walked away. The two covers slowly rose.
- Here, meet Ruslan - the commander of his own unit of the Scientific-Research Institute of Designation and Design-and-Development. Grieg is an ordinary fighter. This is Denis Kaysanov from INKIS.
Grieg was probably the heftiest of all. A tall, wide-eyed ambalushka, he just stood still, not showing a drop of interest in the world around him. Ruslan was lower, more alive, the interlacing of the ropes on his face seemed to have some meaningful expression: a mixture of insolence and complete detachment with a hint of universal longing in the faceted eyes.
“Hello, Denis Kaysanov, it's nice to meet you,” Ruslan grinned, revealing a number of small sharp teeth, and flowed closer to him.
The movements of the super-soldiers made no less impression than their appearance. Since there was no clothes on them, it was evident how the rope muscles interlaced and breathed like a ball of snakes, pushing the body with great speed and ease. Their joints bent freely in any direction, five meters before the interlocutor Ruslan overcame in one pitch-jump. When moving, rubbing scales made a light rustle. The creature held out a black knotted limb to greet.
“Do not worry, he is completely under control,” Denis tried to calm the trembling in his knees, “do not show him your fear, he probably senses him like a dog.”
“Healthy,” he gently touched the limb and immediately withdrew.
- What are you scared, Denis? - Ruslan asked with a honeyed voice. - We don’t cause harm to civilians.
- Do not pay attention, Ruslan, - casually threw Max, continuing to conjure over Grieg, he sees you without a cosmetic program.
“Max, do not stars, please,” Denis snapped warningly as the facet eyes moved closer and stared at him with increased interest.
- Yes? Why does Denis see me without a program?
“He has a very old chip, or rather not a chip, but only lenses, he took them off,” Max answered ingenuously without turning around.
Two vibrissae, hanging in an arc from his forehead, suddenly touched Denis's face and he felt a weak electrical shock.
- What did you, friend, come to us without a chip? - Ruslan rustled even more in a honeyed voice.
- Ma-ax! - Denis shouted already in his voice. - Cut them down, fucking!
Suddenly, standing by the idol Grieg, Max grabbed a sharp movement, metal mustaches sank into his face. There was an electric crash and Max flew to the floor, squealing heart-rending:
“Dan, my chip went out!” I can not see or hear anything, call a doctor. Dan, slap me on the shoulder, if you hear, - it seems that Max did not understand what happened.
“I would have slapped you, demonstrator fucking,” thought Denis with despair. The seriousness and hopelessness of the situation was obvious. Even if help came to the chip that came out as quickly as it had previously done to him, then what would they do with the furious monsters. What will help them Petrovich with paralyzing bullets.
Max continued to shout and blindly crawl forward, but quickly buried himself in the wall and, having hit his head painfully, stopped.
- Stop? - uncertainly said Denis.
“The code is not accepted, the highest priority of the operation,” Ruslan grinned even wider. “Your song is sung, Denis Kaysanov.
“Dan,” Max voiced again, “there is a socket on the side of the wall, dial the grid code 3 so that the robot turns off the soldier.”
“Easy to say,” thought Denis, the panel blinked invitingly two meters away from him, but Ruslan put his hand on his shoulder with an elusive movement.
- will you risk it? He asked mockingly.
- Please do not kill, I have children, the chip just broke, but it was strained with insurance. I will soon be putting on a new one, so long as I had to walk so ... you know how uncomfortable, neither to stumble, nor to plow normally ... - Denis crawled, trying to make the enemy understand that resistance is not expected and you can relax. Ruslan grinned and removed his hand.
“It's time to complete the operation,” said Grieg, “as time goes on, we risk.”
- Wait, soldier, I know what I'm doing.
- Accepted.
Ruslan seemed to be a little distracted and Denis decided that there would be no other chance. He squealed like a wounded boar, and kicked Ruslan under his knee, trying to poke him in the eye with his hand, believing that this was the only vulnerable spot of the monster. He almost got into his knee, and his hand, clamped with steel tongs, was turned up to a crunch, forcing him to settle on the floor. Nevertheless, the octopus at the top still became interested in what was happening and pulled tentacles with syringes towards the soldiers. “Bro,” thought Denis through a red haze, “I was so wrong with you, come on, bro.” Unfortunately, the forces were too unequal, the tentacles torn out with the meat flew into the corner of the room and remained there unable to cross over the floor powerlessly. Grieg jumped, clinging to the ceiling beam like a giant spider, sang the air and whistled from his movements. The robot, ripped off the mounts, flew to the opposite corner,spinning like tumbleweeds and scattering wiring with cogs.
“Dan, what is happening, you are still here, slap me on the shoulder,” Max screamed again, apparently sensing the vibrations of the walls from the colossus imprinted on them.
“They will end up on the march, you are a fuckin 'from the jail,” Denis did not leave any attempts to escape, but he felt that he was losing consciousness, since his hand had long held on his word of honor. - How is it, because nothing foreshadowed, I sat, tried about that and that, he ate whiskey and sausage. The devil pulled me to look at these freaks. How stupid it all happened. It would have been better for Arumov to grab me, although some logic would have been ... ”
- I will ask one question, Denis Kaysanov, if you answer, you are free ... Tell me, what can change human nature?
Ruslan squatted down and moved very close, so that Denis felt his even cool breath, he understood that he had only a few seconds left to live.
- Fuck you, kiss a Martian ass who answers your fucking questions. He will tell you that you are nobody, an unsuccessful experiment, you will die in a gutter ...
- Gustav Kilby.
- What? - Denis was taken aback, already prepared to ascend to heaven.
- Gustav Kilby, that is the name of the Martian who knows the correct answer. When you meet him, be sure to ask what can change the nature of man.
“Commander, it's time to complete the operation, we are pulling too much,” said Grieg, who did not tolerate objections.
- Of course, fighter.
Ruslan with force pushed Denis to the floor. The black shadow darted forward, there was a dull thud and a hideous crunch. Grieg's body huddled on the floor with a torn throat, a puddle of thick black blood with a strange smell of some medicine poured from the wound.
Max, having lost hope for the help of his friend, stood up, carefully holding the wall, and sauntered along the perimeter, hoping to find a way out.
- Tell me, Denis Kaysanov: do you hate martians? - Ruslan asked in the same honeyed voice, brushing off the blood from his fingers.
- I hate it, so what? Im up to the lantern my hate.
- No, we are obliged to kill people without chips and it is much deeper than the usual firmware. So, in someone there is a hidden threat.
“You think she’s in me, I'm sorry, they forgot to tell me about it.”
- It does not matter, no one will guess where the thread of life will lead and where it will break. The ghosts are talking to me, they promised that I would soon meet the true enemy.
“Dan,” Max shouted, “it seems my chip comes to life.”
“Max is also part of the system,” Ruslan murmured, “he cannot be trusted, nobody can be trusted.” You will be all alone, no one will help you, everyone will betray you, and whoever does not betray will die, and you will not receive anything as a reward if you can win. All the roads that promise benefits are a lie to bring down with the only true one. You will be alone against the whole system, but you are our last hope. Don't forget to find Gustav Kilby. Good luck in your hopeless struggle.
- Thank you, of course, for the offer to fight the whole world, but I, perhaps, will find a simpler option for myself.
- I looked into your soul, Denis Kaysanov. You will fight.
Ruslan happily grinned and reached back into the container. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the ceiling with the most innocent look. Max ran up behind him, he had not yet completely recovered, so he began to cut stupid circles around Ruslan lying, while lamenting:
“Dan, why the hell happened here.” I shouted why you did not call for help? Who raskhrenachil robot ... E-mine, but with Grieg what happened!?
- That is what happened, Max: you telekomovskie botanists cool plowed with your soldiers.
“Ruslan, immediately report what happened here,” Max demanded hysterically.
- Private Grieg was out of control, I had to neutralize him. The causes of the accident are unknown. Report completed.
- Max, stop stupid, call already help, - Denis advised.
- Now.
Max shot out into the corridor. Denis, having spat on any caution, leaned over to lying Ruslan and hissed:
“Okay, let me be the enemy, but why didn't you kill me?” If you have such a program - kill people without chips.
- I left free will.
- Why such a shit like you, free will?
- Because I have to suffer, and only the one who has free will can suffer.
Denis followed Max into the corridor. No less worrying about the cleanliness of the premises, he took out a cigarette and flicked a lighter. The hands were still shaking, the dislocated right still sighed noticeably. “Right now, it would not hurt a whisper to hryapnut. A couple of glasses, he thought. A crowd of people, headed by Max, was already rushing towards the crowd, Denis pressed himself against the wall so that he would not be torn down, and the small robot cracked in an offended way under his foot.
Denis refused medical assistance. His only desire was to leave the nightmarish scientific research institute as soon as possible, stuffed with ruthless murderers, ready to hesitate to tear off any head that was not burdened with electronics. When he returned to the conference room, Leo had already agreed with Lapin that the protocol would be signed a little later. All kept complete equanimity, as if nothing had happened. Max got lost somewhere, apparently, he smelled his joint. Denis, too, did not fool a fever. Only when they were waiting for a helicopter on the landing in front of the main building, Leo quietly took Denis by the elbow and took him aside.
- Denis, I hope you accept the deepest apologies on behalf of our organization and from me personally for what happened. This is a ridiculous accident, Grieg was out of control, the measures have already been taken.
- Yes, think, anything can happen. But this is no accident, Grieg acted strictly in accordance with your firmware.
- Dan, please, let's not keep any personal insults. Yes, Max is a rare idiot, he should have read the secret instructions before dragging his school friends to gawk at the super soldier.
- Secret? That is, in the usual instructions this is not.
- You understand that in less or less accessible documents such things are not written.
- Wouldn't the guys without chips appreciate it?
- Secret bookmarks in the system will have a bad effect on sales. More precisely, this is not even a bookmark, but ..., but Dan, believe me, this is not at all directed against you. In our time, to meet a person without a chip is an unbelievable rarity, and so that he suddenly finds himself where it is not necessary, it’s just beyond the limits.
- Not directed? And when they are released to frolic, you scribble me on soap?
“You will never meet them again.” In INKIS they will not be allowed to come to you, I promise. You have no idea how conservative the Martian leadership can be. If there is some mossy order a hundred years ago, they will surely stick it everywhere.
“Well, now it’s clear that it’s all about the moss-covered Martian bureaucracy.
- Dan, let's be reasonable people. What will change if you start screaming at every corner as Telecom grows killers in the dungeons? Are you hoping to break the game of a serious Martian corporation? It will be worse for everyone, and they will start to take you for a city madman.
- Everyone says so when they want to hide something.
- Well, in principle, yes, but on the other hand they often correctly say. By the way, the proposal that Max made is quite valid. I am also ready to support him. You will get a good chip and any professional courses of your choice at the expense of the office, in order to avoid repeated cases, so to speak. You can not even stay in Telecom, go wherever you want. Such a proposal should suit everyone.
- I'll think about it.
“All the roads that promise benefits are lies, in order to bring down the only right one,” Denis recalled, “ugh, there’s not enough to believe in the fables of this monster. Let yourself suffer without me. "
- If something does not suit you, do not hesitate, speak. We will certainly meet reasonable wishes.
- Let's count, Leo.
- So, agreed?
- Well, almost ... What can I say to Lapin and the rest?
- Nothing to say. You chatted with a schoolmate, he drove you to show your workplace. And yet, you have never seen any super-soldiers. Pro arm, if that: fell there, slipped.
- She practically does not hurt.
“That's great,” Leo allowed himself a wide, sociable smile. - Go to the "DreamLand", as defined.
- Wait, one little question: why did you turn so strangely into total immersion, - Denis suddenly remembered.
- Not understood?
- Remember when you joined the others in total immersion after our incredibly interesting conversation about phobias and the fate of humanity. It looked like you were sucked into virtual reality, and only I could see it.
- You still put your head? Do you really want to see a doctor? - Leo's eyebrow arched. - I don’t really imagine what you are trying to say, but I think I got so confused and made a script in three seconds in order to pin up you.
- Well, you still turned around and looked at me ..., - Denis answered uncertainly. - I do not know, maybe you have a special option in all the programs: to scare a vagabond neurophobe.
- Take a day off, my advice to you.
“Sure,” Denis waved his hand in frustration.
It would seem that the mood is so complete ass, he has nowhere to spoil. But still, like a cold shadow touched her face. The choice is sad: either the glitches began, or a hungry amoeba lurked in the bushes. "Either Hans Hochmit until it stops, we’ll dwell on this option," decided Denis.
A cool autumn evening wrapped its wing in park vegetation, forcing the animated shadows of telekomovsky nightmares to dance around a small lighted patch of land. Knotty monsters, steel octopuses and hungry amoebas - everything mixed up in the traitorous light of lanterns. There was a rumble of an approaching helicopter.
All the way back Lapin spilled a nightingale about how great my friend Dan spoke at the talks. Anton, watching this scene, even somehow turned sour. Denis smiled through power.
“It’s great that you set me up, Max,” he thought, “I didn’t have much of Arumov, not only did I almost crash, so I’ve gotten into the intimate secrets of one of the most powerful Martian corporations. They will not leave me so easy to roam the world with a bag of their dirty laundry. It will not be possible to lure chips and courses, they will decide the issue somehow differently. And he, of course, is good: well, why the heck should I go wherever they don’t ask. Of course, I wanted to take a look at the super-soldier. I’d better go to the zoo, I looked at the elephant, an idiot. ” And it was completely uncomfortable to become aware of the fact that the program for killing people without chips was sewn to all super-soldiers. Maybe she is not directed specifically against him, but prepared her, for example, against the Eastern Bloc. But if some kind of lieutenantly accidentally crushed under the rink, no one will cry either.It was unpleasant to be aware of himself as a pathetic, defenseless bug, which would be trampled upon in a big game of corporations.
The helicopter, raising a cloud of dry garbage, plopped onto the roof of the INCIS.
- Are you coming, Dan? Asked Lapin.
- No, I'll stand still, breathe air. It was a hard day.
- Let's see you tomorrow. I will definitely note your special role in the negotiations.
- Yes, do not worry, until tomorrow.
When the colleagues faded, Denis again went to the very edge and fearlessly stood on the parapet. The view from this side was rather unpleasant: abandoned areas, fenced off by stone blocks and coils of barbed wire. Although no one officially lived there, a lot of all kinds of gangsters, drug addicts and homeless people lived, and they were not necessarily people, because with the development of high technologies, it became so easy to lose human appearance. Bosses, like Leo Schulz, paid for all sorts of useful mutations and implants, for long life and absolute health a lot of money. Some did not pay anything, but they still received these improvements. We must first try them on "volunteers." If you listen, from the slums sometimes came the melancholy howl, from which blood ran cold in the veins. And during the construction of the institute, this area is probablylooked quite decent. Maybe astronauts even lived here with their families, while the dream of a man flying to the stars was alive.
Along the debris and fences, whimsically bending, two ribbons of the railway stretched, along one of them the electric train crawled slowly. She seemed to be going very close. Denis could hear the clang of old mechanisms and the ringing, knocking of wheels, long heard in his ears, when the train had already turned into a hazy haze on the horizon. He could almost see the faces of the people sitting inside, or rather, he just knew what these faces should be: gloomy, tired, staring sadly at the dull surroundings. For some reason, Denis envied these not-so-happy people who could just sit by the window in an uncomfortable noisy car and not think about anything. Looking at endless rusty warehouses, pipes, pillars sailing past, broken roads and abandoned factories that have long been useless to no one. Sooner or later, this dying urban landscape will be replaced by another. By that time,as the train leaves the suburbs of Moscow, only a couple of people will remain in the car, sleeping or reading the tabloid press in different corners. And then in general there will be no one left, and Denis will go alone. He most recently will jump on a nameless broken platform made of old concrete, which crumbles underfoot. Look after the departing train chain, look at the dense forest, listen to his conversation with the light wind and go where his eyes are looking. And at the end of the way, he will surely find what he was looking for; it’s a pity that for the time being Denis himself didn’t know what he wanted to find.look at the dense forest, listen to his conversation with a light wind and go where his eyes are looking. And at the end of the way, he will surely find what he was looking for; it’s a pity that for the time being Denis himself didn’t know what he wanted to find.look at the dense forest, listen to his conversation with a light wind and go where his eyes are looking. And at the end of the way, he will surely find what he was looking for; it’s a pity that for the time being Denis himself didn’t know what he wanted to find.
- Hi, Helen. How are you?
Denis carefully sat on the edge of the table in front of Arumov’s secretary, perfumed and rounded, in a fashionable blouse and skirt on the verge of decency, wrapping her outstanding artificial forms. Although if an unbiased approach is taken, then the artificiality of its forms was evident only to those who had been familiar with it for a very long time, for example, from school, like Dan. Her informal responsibilities with respect to the leadership, in addition to the final entanglement of the already not ideal orders of this leadership, were no secret to anyone. At one time, Denis even tried to suck up to her: he wore flowers and chocolates, hoping to somehow improve the shaky career situation, but he realized that it looked pathetic, and tied it up.
“My business is fine,” Lena tried to gently shove Denis off the table, so as not to damage the drying varnish, “but yours don't seem to be very good.” What did you manage to do?
- Arumov not in the spirit?
- Just kapets, and obviously it is somehow connected with you.
- Well, come on, can you come to him first, take off the tension?
- Very funny, - Helen has curled up a haughty physiognomy, - let me remove the tension as a whipping boy today. I will not go to him anymore.
- What, everything is so bad?
- Yes, really kapets, you listen to what I say.
- Well, at least a word for me to say.
- No, Denchik, not this time. You know, I don’t really like it when he looks at me SO and is silent, like a fucking fish.
“Yes, it really is rubbish,” thought Denis, “and obviously this is connected with yesterday’s trip to this fucking institute.”
- Come on, go already. I had to send you right away, and not to chatter here ...
- Then goodbye, cry when I'm taken to the asteroid belt.
- Oh, Denchik, not funny at all.
“Oh, Lenochka,” thought Denis, “stupid, of course, but beautiful ... you had to take a chance and press you somewhere in a dark corner, it’s still like dying.”
Arumov, as it should be, collapsed imposingly in a black leather chair and did not deign to enter even a nod. Near the huge T-shaped table with a green stripe in the middle there was only one chair, low and uncomfortable. Denis had to choose from the chairs along the wall. He thought for a moment whether it was not worth annoying Arumov and sit down at the stenochka, as in the queue at the clinic, but decided that it was not worth it. It is enough that he dared to choose a piece of furniture that was not intended for him.
The silence was dragging on, worse than that, Arumov, without constraint, gazed at his subordinate gaze and grinned nastily. Dan tried to meet his gaze, but did not even extend two seconds. No one could stand this unblinking lifeless gaze.
- called, comrade colonel? - Denis gave up.
And again, the silence. “This is a reptile, he knows that waiting is worse than the execution itself,” thought Dan, but again he could not stand it.
- Want to talk?
- talk? - Arumov asked in the most mocking tone. - No, Lieutenant, I was actually going to throw you out of the gate of this institution.
Denis made an incredible effort over himself and looked at the colonel's face, however, diligently avoiding his gaze.
- So can I go?
But the colonel did not deceive his contrivances with his views.
- You will leave after explaining to me why you are not into your business.
- Was that a rhetorical question? What do I do?
- rhetorical ?! - hissed Arumov. - Yes, it was a rhetorical question, if you are not going to get rid of a simple dismissal, then, of course, you can not answer.
“They went almost open threats. Indeed, the matter is rubbish. - Denis feverishly pondered the situation. - What made him so angry. Precisely this torn trip, here Lapin is a reptile! Put in a word before the leadership. Well, surely Lapin or Anton. Both of them, if you squeeze, you will get around this, then you will not wash a century. ”
- There is nothing to look at me with puppy eyes, as if you had nothing to do with it. I had one of your accomplices sweating all morning and my mother swore that this was some kind of lieutenant Kaisanov had somehow “added” with Dr. Schulz to postpone the signing of the meeting protocol and other important documents. - Arumov did not hesitate to confirm the worst concerns about colleagues.
- Other documents?
“Other documents,” mocked Arumov, “and you, I see, didn’t figure out the situation at all before you got there with your lieutenant snout.” The main financial documents are not signed, Schulz does not respond, allegedly went on a business trip. And I had high hopes for this project, and it turns out that everything is breaking down because of you.
- Yes, this can not be. Why the hell would Schultz listen to me ?! If he decided to jump off, then this is his decision.
“So I wonder too, why the hell ... What did you talk to him about ?!”
- Yes, nothing, just booze and tryndeli on absolutely abstract topics.
- You finish the idiot from yourself to build. Speak essentially your mother! - Arumov barked so that the windows shook. “What did you talk to him about?” What do you think, Lieutenant, can you build a hero out of yourself ?! Do you think about your past arts nothing is known? Yes, I know everything about you: what do you live with, who do you fuck with, how many times a week do your mother call to Finland!
Arumov was sold out in earnest, he already went red spots, jumped up from his chair, loomed over Denis and continued yelling directly at his face.
- You, lieutenant, here I have it, in one single daddy! It should be at least send a leaf from this dad where it is necessary, and you will see the sky in the cell for the last time at the cosmodrome! It comes to you, or not! Or you, the nightingale, sing only when you are not asked!
The door opened gently, and Helen cautiously leaned out into the narrow opening, ready to instantly hide back.
- Andrei Vladimirovich, they came from the supply ...
Arumov fixed his absolutely insane look on her.
“Sorry for stopping you, maybe tea, coffee ...” Helen was completely taken aback.
- What the fuck tea, go work.
Helen instantly disappeared, but Arumov seems to have cooled down a bit. Denis carefully wiped sweat from his forehead: “Fuf, it seems he personally will not kill me. I will entrust this business to professional kostomol, but still, Helen, thank you, I will not forget this if I survive. ”
“You know, lieutenant,” Arumov again collapsed imposingly in his chair, “I will tell you one instructive story: about my colleague who loved to go into his own business.” Can you guess how it ended?
- Apparently, it ended badly.
- Yes, bad. And so bad ... no one even expected that it could turn out. In general, about how you.
- Well, my story is not over yet.
Arumov didn’t say anything, he smirked again, nastily, suddenly threw his legs on the table and took out a cigarette.
- Do you smoke?
- Only when I'm nervous. Now something is not desirable.
Arumov grimaced slightly and puffed on his cigarette.
- Well, I had a colleague, let's call him Captain Petrov. He actually did not obey me directly, but still I tried to besiege him sometimes. And then he was all such a hero of himself: an excellent student in combat training, a father to soldiers and a headache for all commanders. He did not want, you see, to submit to the rotten system, and why, one wonders, he went to the officers. And if something happened, he didn’t try to hush up like everyone else, no, he immediately reported upstairs, he wanted everything to be fair. But you understand where the law is, and where justice is. And we have because of his performance fell. In other parts, everything is sewn-covered, but we have now hazing, then fire, then secret documents are gone. In general, not an exemplary military unit, but a circus tent of some kind. Then there was still time, the spirit of freedom was breathing again from somewhere because of the Atlantic puddle.To the stars gathered to fly with these assholes. But it’s okay, our Petrov wasn’t going to fly anywhere, but he still got these bad ideas. Then one day a small such 5-ton container was brought to our unit and ordered to be kept in stock and treasure it, and what’s in the container is not our business. And there are really no documents for him, but such a gray, inconspicuous little man accompanied him, and he said that the container should be lying without documents, nothing dangerous or, God forbid, there is no radioactive inside, but it is forbidden to open it under any circumstances and do not talk about it need to. And after all all clever people understand that gray little men should be obeyed, if they say to keep without documents, then it is necessary to keep. If they say that it is safe, well, it means that it is safe. But Petrov did not believe the gray man.I learned about this container from somewhere and walked around it, sniffed it, dragged various devices, measured the fields. Our commander’s batyu, of course, was pretty nervous about everything, but he didn’t want to expose the fool Petrov and bang on him to gray men. And take the fool Petrov, and the stunt of the district command about this container. And after all, bad luck, gray men do not dedicate anyone to their affairs, even if he is a brigade commander, even if he is a commander of a district, it’s all on the drum. In general, the commission has flown into our part, Dad is straining, dodging, but it cannot be explained what kind of container it is. And the district commander, too, like Petrov, turned out to be: “What kind of gray men” ?! - yelling. - "I am a military officer, I spit them all on my officer's banner"! And orders: "Open the container"! But our officers are all brave guys,if you need to go hand-to-hand on enemy machine guns, but rummaging through the pockets of gray men is an excuse. In general, the district decided to pick up this container. They loaded it, it means, into the trailer and drove it. And the accompanying part of our guesses who was?
- Captain Petrov?
- Captain Petrov, fool miserable. So you in his place would be messing with this damn container.
- Accompany? And that such, he was closed.
- It is closed, only it turns out that they took him away from Petrov, and he was with him the longest. You know, I wouldn’t have approached such a kilometer, there was something strange in it that everyone with a survival instinct didn’t shrink completely, bypassing it in a kilometer arc. Even the guard patrol routes were changed, and for that you can get a great deal. So, our captain took the container, and everyone seemed to forget about him. I don’t know how the district dealt with it there, but everyone was behind us. Only now the captain has become somehow stuck. He walks like a boiled one, circles under his eyes, quarreled with his wife, and then he somehow sat down with us to plump, get drunk, which means he began to weave this. We already thought everything, the roof of our Petrov had left. He says I did not enter the container, I didn’t even touch him, but now I only dream about it every night. Every night saysI walk up to the warehouse and see that the container is open, and I feel that someone is looking at me from there and waiting for me to come. And I do not seem to want to go, but pulls me there. I stand, I look at an open container, and there is an empty warehouse around, and I know that nobody is around for hundreds of kilometers, only me and the fact that he lives in a container. And I also understand that this is a dream, but I know for sure that if I go into the container, I will not go back, either in a dream or in reality. And, he says, he used to dream about this container for five minutes a week, and still he would wake up in a cold sweat. And then he began to dream every night and longer and longer. And then, it was enough to close his eyes, and he immediately saw him and, most importantly, he could not wake up himself, his wife heard him moaning in a dream, and wake him up. He went to all the doctors and healers, they did not find anything. And then it became quite bad,I built one myself, I connected the stun gun with the alarm clock, set the alarm for ten minutes and fell asleep, and the discharge lifted him so that he could not enter the container. And so every night. But, you know, you can’t last long in this mode. They took the good doctors of our captain and injected him with a horse dose of tranquilizers so that he would sleep normally. And you know, he was gone all night without hind legs, but in the morning everything disappeared like a hand. There is a ruddy, contented walk, but only everyone who heard his drunken revelations began to walk around him in a kilometer arc. Of course, they laughed at us, but we still went around. And then people began to disappear in the vicinity. First, one, two, then, when already for two dozen exceeded all began to think that the maniac was wound up. But I didn't even doubt for a second who our maniac was. Both the wife, and Petrov's children have not been seen for a long time.As a result, we began to follow him and it turned out that he goes to his garage every day. And thank God that we didn’t go there, gray men were ahead of us. They covered this garage with a hermetic cap, and everyone who lived within a kilometer from the garage was driven into quarantine, including us. In short, we all crap, while we were sitting in this quarantine. Nobody had already hoped to get out alive, all the guards and doctors were only in chemical protection of the highest level, we were left with water and food in a triple sluice. The pipe is shorter.while sitting in this quarantine. Nobody had already hoped to get out alive, all the guards and doctors were only in chemical protection of the highest level, we were left with water and food in a triple sluice. The pipe is shorter.while sitting in this quarantine. Nobody had already hoped to get out alive, all the guards and doctors were only in chemical protection of the highest level, we were left with water and food in a triple sluice. The pipe is shorter.
- So what was found in the garage? Twenty corpses?
- No, they found what he fed with these corpses.
- And what was it?
- I have no idea, we forgot to tell.
- Sorry, Comrade Colonel, but I'm completely confused: what is the moral of this story?
- For you, the moral is as follows: do not get your nose into your business and remember that everything can end much worse than you think.
- There are no prying into your own business.
- So what did you talk about with Leo Schultz?
- About my chip, more precisely, about its absence. This Leo is a rather strange type, he was trying to find out what kind of a phobia I have with regards to the chips.
- Do you have a phobia?
- No, I just do not like neurochips. In Moscow, you can do without them.
- Yes, it is possible in Moscow, and even more so in the wastelands.
- Well, in some places you can.
- Well, how do you know Maxima?
- In your daddy is it not written that we are classmates with him.
- It is written, only nothing is written about your quivering friendship.
- Yes, I have a lot of friends - classmates. With Max, we were friends, though, then he went to Mars, and we somehow got lost.
- Where did you go with him?
- Look at his workplace.
- At the workplace? What is there to look at?
- Yes, no matter what. Just Max somehow strongly overestimates the significance of his work. Like, look how cool I am, I work in Telecom, not that you, Dan, have never achieved anything.
- Really. Well, okay, Lieutenant Kaysanov, we will assume that I believe you. Free
“Get crazy,” thought Denis, heading for the door, “he seemed ready to kill me, otherwise he was free. What the hell are the games?
- And, yes, do not go anywhere from Moscow. You will still be useful, ”Arumov’s prudently impassioned voice caught up with him in the doorway.
- Well, Danchik, how is it? - Lena seemed genuinely worried about him, or it was just the eternal feminine desire to be the first to bring the latest gossip to her friends.
- While alive, but apparently the penalty is simply postponed.
- And what did he say?
- He said, I still have a good time. Sounds like a sentence.
- I do not know, it does not sound so terrible.
- Helen, and before me, who came to Arumov?
- Yes, a lot of people ...
- I mean from my colleagues, Lapin, for example?
- Yes, Lapin came, came out all sweaty, shaking.
- And Anton?
- What is Anton.
- Novikov, of course.
- It seems not, but what?
- Yes, so interesting. Listen, Len, don't you know how old Aarumov is?
- What are you talking about now? - Helen slightly pouted lips.
- Yes, I do not mean, I really need to know how old he is.
- Well, forty ..., I guess.
- And in his stories comes out more, okay. Thank you, Len, you helped me a lot today.
- Yes, please, do not disappear only.
- I will try, bye.
“Yes, what did he really want to tell this story about the container and the gray men? That he is much more years old than it seems, or that he is much more dangerous than it seems, ”thought Denis.
Loose in an old chair in his workplace, he decided to make himself a seagull, spit at the ceiling and at the same time think about his unenviable position. His duties now worried him last. Yes, and there was nothing really important in these duties: well, some letters, office help, bills and other dregs. Nearly reluctantly and leisurely depicted the similar activities of his colleagues in the operational department, often distracted by smoke breaks and meaningless chatter. “Yes, this dreary, sleepy life in shabby cabinets, of course, is not the ultimate dream,” thought Dan, “but at least warmly and flies do not bite. And soon I can even lose it. ” After checking his personal mail, he found a letter from the Telecom personnel service offering work. It would seem that here he is a chance, but Denis just sighed heavily. “They put bastards on all sides. Need to solve somethingif I continue to drag myself home like a ram, to a tavern, and back, either Telecom or Arumov, they will definitely accept me. ”
Leaving a message to Lapin, that he urgently needed to leave on business, Denis got into the car and headed home. In general, he didn’t really understand what he was going to do. No, he had a little thought to call Bate, can jerk to Finland, melt a bathhouse, potryndet with batey for life, find out the phone of some reliable guy from MIK, one of those that are not former. Then to return to Moscow and ... what will happen next, he could not even formulate at the level of kitchen reasoning. Will he go to this guy and offer to jointly stir up the guerrilla war against the Martians or against Arumov? It will not even be funny, in fact, of those former who have not drunk completely and have not died, all have long settled in warm places in state corporations. Well, he will come such a whole fearless "Comandante" to a respectable peasant in a suit, taking with him a bottle of brandy,and at best, it will all end in a banal drinking of the same kitchen chatter. And at worst, they would twist a finger at their heads and order a couple of mordovorot to throw him out. Dan parked in the courtyard, the old gas turbine engine whistled for some time, slowing down, and then there was a deafening silence. There was nobody in the yard: the children did not shout and the dogs did not bark, only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.And at worst, they would twist a finger at their heads and order a couple of mordovorot to throw him out. Dan parked in the courtyard, the old gas turbine engine whistled for some time, slowing down, and then there was a deafening silence. There was nobody in the yard: the children did not shout and the dogs did not bark, only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.And at worst, they would twist a finger at their heads and order a couple of mordovorot to throw him out. Dan parked in the courtyard, the old gas turbine engine whistled for some time, slowing down, and then there was a deafening silence. There was nobody in the yard: the children did not shout and the dogs did not bark, only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.
“What then is my life,” thought Dan, “maybe there is no longer any life if everything is predetermined. Maybe I'm already dying in the gutter, and this muddy bodyaga flashes before my eyes. And why bother with me like that if nothing can be done? ”
It was stifling outside.
Scribbled a cigarette, Denis slowly moved along Krasnokazarmennaya Street towards Lefortovo Park. He understood that predestination was delaying for a pitiful couple of hours, but that was the only thing that came to mind. He walked right in the middle of the street. The street itself looked like after the bombing, and almost no one went through it. And in general, the district was falling into neglect: the next house stared at lonely passersby with empty sockets of broken windows.
“Go, perhaps, to Kolyan,” Dan thought, “if I am not able to solve the problem with Arumov and Telecom, then it is worthwhile to break through the option of a cowardly escape.”
Berg Kolyan, a merchant of various illegal junk, was located in the basement room of a large Stalin-era home. And camouflaged a rare sign "computers, components."
Nikolai Vostrikov, a tall, thin type, slouching and forever slightly jerky, was digging under the counter and, hearing the greeting of Denis, did not even think of getting out of there.
- Hey, Kolya, I'm actually talking to you. Hello, I say ... The
disheveled owner still emerged into the light of God and narrowed his eyes unkindly.
- Hi, what came up?
Today, Kolyan was in a blue, oiled dressing suit, like an auto mechanic. It was his standard outfit. He did not tolerate at all that suits and ties, and even just decent clothes. The only thing he recognized was military camouflage and various jumpsuits. He had about ten pieces in his closet, which were different, in every case of life: a polar jumper, a pilot, a tankman, etc. Over this strange fetishism, all of his acquaintances were stung by this and that side of the Urals.
- Well, right away, and pinned. I haven't seen you for a long time, maybe I want a drink with an old business partner.
- Dan, not funny. What the fuck are business partners? So you, my distant acquaintance, sometimes left gadgets bought from me, I see you for the second time in my life.
-Here you mean like with old friends?
- We are not friends, hare, okay. You visited me last time three months ago, and I would be very grateful if that time was the last one. Forget, please, about this place, in business now there are completely different people, serious, you have nothing more to catch here.
- Well, you know, I tied up. I have a completely different matter.
- Tied up, or you tied?
- Kolyan, yes stop ochkovat, you have not given up to anyone, your dear little girl.
- Well, if nobody surrendered to anyone, then why did you shout?
- We need to talk with one person.
- To talk, or talk ...
- Or.
- With whom?
- You once mentioned that you know a reliable comrade who has direct access to the Eastern Bloc.
- Maybe I know, but not the fact that he will help you. And what did you actually want from him?
- Let's not here, okay.
- Okay, let's go, but only out of respect ...
- Yes, out of respect for my dad, mom, grandmother, and so on, and also because I know something about you.
They passed through an iron, unpainted door to the basement and further through the mazes of multi-storey racks littered with ancient computer junk, came to one quite inconspicuous door and through a gloomy semi-lit basement to a deaf courtyard, in the center of which stood a one-storey hut park. In this shack, in a dark, shielded room, a couple of laptops connected to the Internet through their secure network were hidden, which allowed Kolyan to talk heart to head with anyone, practically without fear of eavesdropping.
“Yes, I decided to help only out of respect for your Siberian friends,” Kolyan said, taking out a laptop and a router. - They are about you several times interested.
- And what did you tell them?
- Said you took leave at your own expense. Listen, Dan, what are you hanging around with? He would have fallen somewhere in Argentina a long time ago. Close you, not alone, so others.
- They will not close, my Siberian friends did not pass me, although they are now working with other people.
- Yes, they are what, uramku taiga, but if they directly ask me, then I'm sorry, Dan, I will give you up with giblets. You may not know who I work with now?
- In general, in the course. You work with the same INKIS.
- With the same, but not quite. There are now such guys wound up, henchmen of one dumb colonel. Nobody decree them and no one knows where they are, who they are. They just come in, drench anyone they want, and then disappear: death squads are freaking. So if they come and ask about you, then I'm sorry.
“And if they ask about this friend of yours?”
- Yes, let me know nothing about him.
“But you can contact him.”
- And what's the point? He may be sitting somewhere on the ruins of Khabarovsk and he cannot be lured out.
- I wanted to meet him personally.
“Well, add it yourself, although I highly doubt it.” So what did you want from him?
- I do not want to Argentina, I want to go to the Eastern bloc.
- Have you been hit on the head recently? What the Eastern Bloc, this psychos is even worse than the new colonel's team. They just sell you to the organs and everything!
- You tie me, and then I will blink myself.
Kolyan just shook his head.
“Now if he answers.”
- Hey, Semyon, are you in touch, can you talk?
“In touch,” a synthesized voice came from the laptop, there was no image, “what happened?”
- My old comrade wants to talk to you, through whom I used to do business with Siberian guys. He was one of the key "couriers" before known events.
- What did he want?
- Yes, you better ask yourself, he is next to me. His name is Denis.
- Well hello, Denis. Tell me something about yourself a little.
- And you be healthy, Simeon. Can you tell me about yourself first?
- No, friend, so we will not succeed in dialogue. You called me, here's your first word. And I'll think about it later.
Dan hesitated a little, but, however, what a difference, too many detractors about him, and so everyone knew.
- In general, Kolyan, I described the situation. I will only add that, following the results of the well-known events, my group of comrades suffered the most. If you know Jan, then he was my direct chief in INKIS and in business too. He was accepted, and to the fullest, but for some reason I was left alone for the time being. But now the clouds are gathering again, and I need to look for a spare airfield.
- Why did you decide that they are gathering. Are you being watched?
- I think no.
- To think is, of course, useful. Do you have problems with any particular person or organization?
- With a man and with his organization. If you are aware of well-known events, then I have problems with their initiator.
- Denis, you can speak directly - this is a reliable channel. Do you have problems with Arumov?
- Yes, do you know anything about him?
The voice left the question without attention.
- What kind of problems?
- It so happened that I accidentally got into his business with another organization, and today he openly said that he was holding dirt on me and could use it at any time. I think he saved me for some dirty businessman whom any other person would refuse.
- Believe me, he has people for dirty business. And then it does not matter - compromising, not compromising, and in any case it’s impossible to refuse Arumov.
“Perhaps, but I don't want to check.”
- Well, are you going to hide?
- Yes, I consider all options.
- I advise you to consider it first. Only an extremely powerful organization can fight Arumov. True, I do not understand why you turned to me, I do not specialize in this kind of services. Kohl can you tell other people who will forward you to the United States or South America. I advise these countries, according to my data, the influence of Arumov is practically not spread there.
- These countries will not fit. Moreover, I have no more money for such an operation. You are the only person who has direct contact with the Eastern Bloc.
- What do you want from the Eastern bloc?
- I want to join them.
The synthesized voice fell silent for a few seconds. Dan waited patiently.
- This is a wrong decision, my friend. Firstly, Arumov also has ties with the Eastern Bloc, and much more serious than mine. And secondly, people from the street are not accepted there. I would certainly recommend, but I’m not expecting anything good there, I assure you.
- Even here, nothing good awaits me. I am willing to take the risk.
- Still, why? Being a smuggler seems to you not dangerous for your health? Do you want to be a stubborn follower of the cult of death?
- You can, of course, laugh at me, but they are the only ones who somehow oppose the Martians and their system.
“Ha-ha,” said the synthesized voice, “I really laugh at you.” They do not oppose the Martians, I assure you, they are an organic part of the system. So let's say a cesspool of this system. Many Martian corporations stock up on them with weapons or drugs, but you yourself know that. But there are specific services that no one else offers, for example, trade in genetically modified slaves.
- Well, why, some Martian corporations and not so willing to sell.
- So it does not matter. Just a struggle with the system there and does not smell. They are ordinary gangsters who, with radical cries for the death of all unclean with neurochips, are trying to somehow cover up their gangster essence. The simplest thing that awaits the servant of the death of the first circle is the mandatory drug addiction and the complete suppression of the person by systematic torture and hypnoprogramming. Believe me, Arumov is not so bad compared to them.
- Anyway, I see no other options.
“You, friend, are either very stupid or completely desperate.” The problem is the lack of money for other options?
- Partly, but in fact I even have a ready-made option: one office is ready to take me under the wing, just to shut up. Substitute here does not seem to smell. But, unfortunately, it does not suit me.
- Why not fit?
- If I say, you will have fun again and most likely you will not believe me. Can you just help me without asking too many questions?
- To a person whose motives are incomprehensible to me, I will have to refuse.
- Well, if I say, and you will not believe me, then what?
- If you tell the truth, I will believe. Any deception is not so difficult to uncover.
- All other options involve the mandatory installation of neurochip, but I can not go for it. I'd rather be a follower of the cult of death.
“You mean you don't have a chip?”
- Yes.
- Kolya, is this true?
- True, he really is such a frostbitten type, hanging around without a chip. He waits for him to be noticed somewhere, and all his adventures float.
- Hmm, strange, that is, he can not register on any network. How does he live at all?
- Register can. This is some kind of ancient military tablet, very cleverly imitating the work of a conventional chip. There are certain people who periodically update firmware for it.
- What is the difference, no network provider will assign a number to such a device, and attempts to register under the left numbers will attract attention in any network.
- And, Semen, what are you telling me? Everything is bought and sold, the left numbers or codes of law-abiding users, including, especially in Moscow.
- Well, suppose. Denis, and is it possible in more detail, from whom did you buy this device?
“We can, let's meet and discuss everything,” said Dan. - You help me, and I satisfy your curiosity.
“Yeah, you know, if I were an agent of some evil corporation and had a file on some Seeds, I would know that excessive curiosity is the only weakness of the respected Seeds. And on this hook I would catch him. I would write some enticing story about a guy who hates chips so much that he is ready to rot alive in the Eastern Bloc, just not to put the chip on. And to demonstrate the fake miracle tablet to anyone, having access to a database of some neurotech, will not be difficult.
- Kolyan vouch for me, he knows me for ten years.
“Undercover agents may work longer.”
- Well, I do not know how to prove to you that I am not an agent. Try to just believe.
- But still, why don't you like chips so much? After all, one can put a special chip for a certain amount of money that conveys false information about the user, and also graze anonymously in the networks. What a strange phobia?
“Something lately everyone has been concerned with my phobias,” grumbled Denis.
- And who else has to do with them? Arumova?
- No, one botanist from Telekom. He already exhausted his whole saliva when he learned that I was without a chip.
- Who is he?
- Botan one. I kind of voiced my wishes.
- Well, let's meet, but bear in mind, without nonsense, if I have anything - I shoot without warning.
- Yes, everything will be normal. Speak the address.
Semyon made an appointment in a small park on Staraya Basmannaya Street in just half an hour. From what Dan concluded that curiosity really makes the distinguished Seeds forget about caution, because the time and place of the meeting clearly indicated that it was hanging around somewhere nearby.
Denis sat down on a stool in the center of the park next to Bauman’s bust. From the thickets of weeds, completely tore the once-cute paving stones, a huge striped cat appeared. He looked around in a businesslike manner, wiggled his mustache, and slowly trotted along his feline affairs. Dan looked at the unusual cat so much that he didn’t notice the old man in a greasy leather jacket. And in vain.The old man, not at a loss, poked Denis with a shocker on his left shoulder. The fact that this is a shocker, Dan understood already reflexively, jumping aside.
“Young man, I apologize for such a vile reception, but this is the surest way to verify that a person really does not have a chip.”
“And no less faithful to ruin any goner,” Dan snapped, trying to quell the cramps in his hand.
- Once again, a thousand apologies, I decided that since a person is ready to go to the Eastern Bloc, then he certainly does not suffer from angina. And if he suffers, then he, surely, is completely weak with his head.
- Hey, uncle, where have you dug such a unit? They, too, have long been banned.
- Yeah, fucking Martians with their own good chips. They ponapyat them to different places and apply the same laws, and to the old Semen, what then to fight back from the gopnics? Bad words? They don’t care about the doorways of what the old, respected person has to make their way home ...
- Listen, uncle, have a lot of nonsense to carry, let’s do it.
- Young man, show a bit of respect. Now, if you are still waiting for a dirty trick from me, then please take it
away ... Denis carefully picked up a shabby, weighty machine with menacingly sticking teeth.
- But I warn you, the old Seeds left are not only rattles and bad words.
- Okay, checker, passed. Cool toy.
Dan handed the shocker back.
“That's good, I hope this regrettable incident is forgotten.” Let me introduce myself: Semen Cat. You can just Semyon Sanych.
- Well then, Semyon Sanych, what about the Eastern Bloc?
- It’s not so good the bull by the horns. Let's sit and talk. You tell me something, I'll tell you something. I am an elderly person, I don’t need anyone just with my grunts. You really respect the old man.
- No problem. You know, Semyon Sanych, I have nowhere to hurry. Want potryndet for life, please.
- And the truth is, where do you rush, to Arumov something. Better sit down with the old man. So I have gulls to support the conversation.
Semyon took out a small flask from behind his bosom and sipped it first. Dan did not hesitate and also sewed a seagull with the taste of excellent cognac, immediately spilling warmth all over his body.
- Well, Denis, what kind of bird are you, I understood in general. I, however, made some help on my channels. I must say that you have a rather poor biography in the virtual world. I would even say no. This, by the way, was another indirect confirmation that you are telling the truth about the chip.
- So, on the topic of chips, why did all of a sudden wonder what was in my head? What do you know with a telecom botanist that I don't know?
- Eh, youth. You do not know how to listen, but believe me, sometimes it is enough just to shut up to hear the most intimate human secrets. I mean, I wanted to melt the ice of distrust between us and in turn tell a little about myself. Maybe you guessed that I was somehow connected with MIK.
- It is no wonder to guess, everyone is connected with it.
“True, but I, of course, was not a brave officer with a cool head and other useful things, but rather an inconspicuous laboratory rat. True, I worked on a very interesting project. And do not ask what kind of project, the time will come - I will tell. So, I turned out to be a bit more resourceful than my other colleagues and took care of hiding the necessary materials. And when everything collapsed, I was ready: I ​​managed to erase all the information about myself and very quickly set up, let's say, a small business to collect information. Sometimes I trade in this information, but basically I just save up. I already have a huge database of thousands of interesting people. Basically, of course, here in Russia, but there are little people over the hill, and even on Mars.
- Why do you save it? Why not sell everything?
- How can I tell you, my friend, I'm not a huckster, and I sell only the most waste products just to live. And all the true treasures I carefully preserve.
- For posterity?
- Maybe I do not know for whom. Imagine the monks in the Middle Ages, who year after year persistently rewritten old books while epidemics and wars raged outside their monasteries. Why did they do it, who among contemporaries could appreciate their hard work. Only descendants could do this, hundreds of years after their death. For us, they have preserved at least some memory of past centuries.
- Chronicle will make?
- No, Denis. Okay, I see you are not interested. Well, I'll tell you one legend about people without a chip. But first answer, what kind of nerd from Telecom was interested in you?
- His name is Leo Schultz, he is the chief researcher of a certain research institute RSAD. Telecom division near Zelenograd. Mainly engaged in complex and non-standard medical operations, genetic engineering, implants and develop software for them. In general, the infamous desk also sculpts for Arumov a certain project of modifying the officers of the Inkis Security Council as a super soldier. The first samples have already been created; now it is planned to begin serial muddling. Who and what will be done with them later, I do not know. But this Schultz stirs up with Arumov. Yesterday we went there to sign some final documents on the project and did not sign anything like that. I do not know why, but apparently Schultz decided to jump off the topic abruptly, but Arumov now thinks that I'm somehow mixed up here. I yelled at me in the morning so that the windows trembled. And I, in short, really not in the subject, this Schultz tortured me for an hour,why I do not like chips and rubbed for the progress and spaceships, plowing spaces. What does Arumov and his favorite soldiers, honestly, not the slightest idea.
- I hear the most interesting things from you, friend Denis. And you, of course, haven't seen the super-soldier?
“Who knows, maybe he saw it,” Dan decided to confess after a short reflection. In spite of the shocker and spiteful manners, Denis sensed with some sort of sixth sense that you could trust Semen, or maybe this brandy played a role.
- But now you're lying, you could not see them.
- Why is this?
- Well, firstly, the admission needs a very high, do not lead anyone there. And secondly, there is a secret instruction to them: in no case should you let people without chips close by.
- Wow, Semyon Sanych, and you really have good sources of information. They have such a firmware, I had to check it out on my own skin.
- And how did you manage to survive? Well, okay, this topic is for a separate conversation. Come on chip at first, just another question: is it by chance that Leo Schultz promised you shelter?
- Yes, including him.
“Then it’s good that you didn’t rush into his arms and now you will understand why.” You probably know that after the second space war, the MIC actively developed new ways of dealing with the Martians. One of the most important was the program for the introduction of agents and saboteurs into Martian structures. It was as large and effective as possible. When the Martians, after the collapse, received information about it, they really clutched at the head. Had we held out for some time and gathered a sufficient number of agents, we would have launched a real war against these noobs. Can you imagine what it is like to live in hermetic caves when thousands of enemy agents are potentially working at oxygen stations and atomic reactors. Yes, they would be sharply not to the empire. They would have diapers changed three times a day for each cotton. Then of courseMick was gone and the Martians little by little got all these agents out. You, by the way, sweets snacks.
Semyon pulled out from the pocket of semi-dried candy with sticky strings and crumbs.
- So, in their internal instructions, the Martians divided all agents into four classes. And there they described in detail how to identify them and what to do with them. Agents of class four are ordinary recruits, who received orders to lie on the bottom before a sabotage war or just gather information. It is clear that they are the most low-value and unreliable. Actually, after the collapse of the Empire, they were not particularly zealous. In the absence of orders, a normal person will not go on his own initiative to blow up an oxygen station. Class three - this is the agents who have passed a long special. processing is still on Earth and sent to Mars under the guise of migrants. Death planes, in short, ready for anything. They believed that after death the emperor would be reborn and resurrected in a better world, where the Empire won. Type the emperor has a supernormal ability to see the future and moreover,he may briefly show this future to a young neophyte. Letting him wander through the sun-drenched rooms of huge institutions, talk to beautiful, intelligent people with a pure soul who have forgotten what unemployment and crime are. And admire the lights of evening Moscow after the victory of communism. It is clear that the MIC at the end was well-trained to show all sorts of tricks with rebirths, paradise gurias and other troubles, but still it’s not perfect. Even a brain that has been flushed until it stops, after several years of independent living, it starts asking questions and doubting. Or simply can blurt out something superfluous where it is not necessary. In general, the next upgrade is class two. They have a hypnoprogram in their brain, or a mini-chip. With the minichip, of course, it was released from a lack of time, they are quite easy to detect. But hypnoprogram is another matter.A man with her may not suspect that he is an agent. And it is activated simply by a verbal code, or by a message on the social network. After that, an exemplary family man will go and kill the right Martian, or blow up the gateway. True, it is said that only one out of ten potential migrants survived after hypnoprogramming, but this, of course, did not stop the MIC. But they are very difficult to recognize, they say, they still have not caught everyone, and Martians regularly suffer from paranoia from this. You never know what a madman can get access to the activation codes of these agents. Don't look at me like that, I don't have these codes. Well, the coolest - class one, supplemented by genetic modifications or artificial microorganisms. They can be a biological bomb, produce rare poisons for murder, and there is little else.To identify the need to conduct comprehensive polls and DNA tests from all parts of the body. Martians are still working on this.
“Very informative,” grinned Denis. - So, you or I may well be the agents of MIK and not even suspect it.
- Wait, do not hurry, it is better to still have a cup of bread and a piece of snack. We are hardly with you agents of the first or second class. Why the heck did they need Moscow? They are the most valuable and expensive, they are always sent to Mars. But there is still a legend that there are some agents of class zero. This is most likely really only a legend. It is possible that someone drunk cooked up this bike, because once there are four classes, then there must be a zero class, the companions liked it and went for a walk in certain circles. Even the Martians came and fell into some of their instructions in the form of footnotes and reservations. What is the task of these agents and what are their opportunities; there are many conjectures on this topic, but nothing credible. The only thing that is alarming is that in all variations of this bike there is a prerequisite: the absence of any chips, molecular or electronic,agents class zero. Honestly, it is not at all clear why an agent without a chip is needed, since he obviously cannot integrate into any European structure, not to mention the Martians. And nothing was known about these agents, even to curators from the MIC with the highest tolerance. Already Semen Cat knows for sure.
And imagine, suddenly a man appears who for some reason does not like chips so much that he is ready to die rather than to put it. I met people without chips, any homeless people who stupidly have no money, or scumbags from the Eastern Bloc and just psychos. But you do not fall into any category. I always thought that the legend about agents of class zero is from some kind of reflection, waiting for the one who will come and save everyone. In fact, the overwhelming majority of minded people in Russia, and not only, Martians quietly hate. But even a ghostly hope somehow does not resist them, so again, reasonable people do not rock the hook. Yes, and fight, in principle, not for anyone. Therefore, the stories about the last Mohican who will come and lead everyone into battle are so tenacious. I even thought that the Martians themselves invented this bike to blow off steam.And then suddenly - here you are, ghostly hopes have gained flesh. Miracles…
“So a miracle,” said Denis. - Besides the keen desire to fill the face of the cyber guards, I actually have a soul and nothing. Maybe I need to activate as agents of class two.
- Maybe it should. But nobody knows how. And they say that a class zero agent knows access codes and data on all MIC agents. You drink a seagull.
- What are you bothering me with your tea? - Dan suspiciously sniffed the neck of the flask. - You are still suspicious gulls.
- Do not worry, it just gives an interesting reaction with almost any kind of molecular chips.
- There are no chips. Already tied with checks, but then I, too, may have a fit of distrust.
- I understood that no. Otherwise, you would have long vomited from all the holes. Forgive the old fool, I do not believe that you are truly chosen, came under the sunset of my worthless life.
“Oh, two hours ago, I almost resigned myself to the end of my floundering.” And then suddenly I give hopeless hopes to someone. Miracles straight!
- Do you know what else makes me believe in agents of class zero?
- Telecom super-soldiers? - suggested Dan.
“I guessed correctly,” Semyon shook his head approvingly. “What I’m thinking is: you can hardly just pick up the ghost’s genome and then transfer it to a person.” Surely they have some kind of protection - genome coding, genetic memory, whatever. But even among ghosts, or among those who control them, there may be traitors who have agreed to serve the Martians. Therefore, ghosts, traitors and kill all people without chips. Oh, they are probably the best devoted to all the imperial secrets. From what I learned about them, we can conclude that this is, rather, not a special firmware, but some unrecoverable bug. This hunt did not give up to the Martians themselves, they are practical people and believe in class zero agents insofar as.
- Well, it means that not all super-soldiers have this bug.
- In what sense? Should everyone have?
“Why do you think I'm still breathing after meeting them?” One turned out not to be such a scumbag and soaked the other who was going to tear my head off. In general, not a bad guy, I probably owe him now in life. Type he has free will.
- Why does he have free will? - surprised Semyon.
- To suffer. If you have free will, then you don't want it, but you have to suffer.
Denis shivered chilly and looked around. He was so absorbed in talking that he did not notice how it began to get dark. Cool air rushed into the chest, bringing with it the smells of faded grass and wet earth. Denis was already quite noisy in his head and the autumn evening began to play with new colors. Even the usually annoying silence of semi-abandoned Moscow streets began to seem mysterious and soothing. Like a soft blanket hid them from enemy eyes and ears. A single lantern burned in the garden, and around it, for the first time a million, mindlessly repeating the routine of things, myriads of insects had already begun to gather. Just think, someone was already going to rewrite their minds on the quantum matrix, but can this clever man unequivocally answer the simple question: why do insects fly with suicide persistence into the light. After all, their struggle is absolutely hopeless,but they are so persistent that one day, one of countless billions will manage to fulfill a great mission and bring happiness to all the other bugs on the planet.
“You think Schultz also decided that I was a class zero agent.” Type of exclusive goods that can be presented on a platter to your favorite Martians to curry favor? - Denis broke the silence.
- Nothing personal, just business. Well, if this is only his initiative, and if the central office is interested in this, then you just don’t get off the hook.
- Yes, I know, I have nothing to lose. And you, dear Semyon Sanych, have something to lose?
- To me? With my arthritis and sclerosis? Only upholster the clinics in old age. But what do you propose to do? Would you really be an agent of class zero, and I would know how to activate you ... and so ...
- Do not despair. Let's find a way to activate me: shake Shultz or Arumov, something we dig up.
- Simple you guy, shake Schultz. Maybe immediately the boss of Neyrotek some shake? However, yes, why this senile grumbling. Since you are so young and handsome, you are in a hurry to die, then I must even take the risk.
- Well then, it was decided, to hell with the Eastern Bloc, we are looking for a way to activate the agent of class zero. Come on, for us, - Denis enthusiastically raised his flask.
- Still, you amaze me. So you can easily believe that some unfamiliar old fart will go to the embrasure with you?
“Why not, you yourself say that there are quite a few people in the world who hate Martians.” And if this is a joke, or you are some kind of a paid Martian provocateur, and to hell with it.
“Those who hate the Martians are probably millions and billions, but not all of them are seriously ready to fight.” You understand that we will lose and die with a probability of 99 and 9 in the period. The Martians are infinitely at enmity with each other, but in the struggle with an external enemy, especially so pitiful as we are, their whole system is absolutely monolithic.
- Fear is a bad adviser. Maybe the Martians won not because they are so cool, but because the whole world just buried its virtual worlds and is afraid to blather.
“Unfortunately, the real world has shrunk too much, and no one can notice our blathering in it.”
- Yes, it's all not important, they will notice, they will not notice. This is not the case when you need to consider the probability, you just have to believe and start doing something. If my struggle is at least a little important for this world, I hope that the laws of probability will be on my side. And if not, then it turns out that my whole life is no more expensive than dust and there is no need to shake over it.
- Your truth, - reluctantly agreed Semen.
. , , , , . , , . , , . , . , . .
Introduction
By the end of the 21st, the beginning of the 22nd century, the disintegration of all states on the Earth ended. Their place was taken by powerful transnational IT corporations. The minority belonging to the leadership of these companies is forced and forever surpassed in the development of the rest of humanity, thanks to bold experiments with the modification of their own nature. In the course of the conflict with the endangered states, they were forced to move to Mars, where they began to implant complex neuroimplant complexes, even before the birth of a child. The Martians were immediately born not entirely human, with corresponding capabilities far superior to human ones.
The main idol of the new cyborg civilization was Edward Kroc - the best developer of NeuroTech, who first learned to connect computers directly to the human brain. His brilliant mind determined the image of the "neuman" - the master of the new world, where virtual reality took control of the "obsolete" physical world. The first experiments with neurotechnology were often accompanied by the death of the test subjects: boarding patients, to whom usually no one was concerned. This scandal was used as a reason to provoke the defeat of the corporation "NeuroTech". Part of the company’s directors, as well as Edward Kroc himself, were convicted by the United Nations in The Hague for crimes against humanity and sentenced to death. And NeuroTech Corporation moved to Mars and gradually became the center of a new society.
After the victory over the common enemy, the contradictions between the earthly powers broke out with a new force. Even the project of the interstellar expedition, in which almost the entire globe participated, could not reconcile the old enemies. But the interstellar ship Unity with an international crew of the best engineers and scientists, suitable for age, still launched in the direction of the nearest system of Alpha Centauri. Previous launches of automatic probes confirmed the presence of a planet with suitable environmental conditions in the orbit of Alpha Centauri V. The ship was installed the first operating installation of "fast communication", based on the principle of weak measurements of entangled quantum systems. The time of a strong measurement of the quantum system instantly transmitted information between the ship and the Earth. In the future, “fast communication” became widely used, but remained an extremely expensive way of communication. Unfortunately, the triumph of earthly civilization was not destined to take place. The crew of Unity stopped communicating after twenty years of flight, when, according to calculations, it was supposed to reach the orbit of Novaya Zemlya. Although, his fate already didn’t care much against the background of the grand catastrophes that shook the world then.
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The heavy defeat in the First Space War against the United States and the subsequent space blockade led to a coup d'état in Russia. The power was seized by the former director of the “Institute of the Brain” Nikolay Gromov, who declared himself the eternal emperor. Rumor attributed to him superhuman abilities - clairvoyance and telepathy, with the help of which he destroyed all enemies and "agents of influence" within the Empire. Almost immediately a new special service was created - the Ministry of Information Control. Its declared goal was to take the informational chaos of the Internet under tight control and protect the minds of citizens from the corrupting influence of the Martians. In addition, the MIC did not even bother about the formal observance of “human rights”, and without hesitation used drug and other rough methods of influencing the psyche of citizens. It should be noted that the Western democracies by that time fairly lost their gloss. What kind of freedom here in the conditions of total lack of all resources and permanent economic crisis. Besides, you don’t bother too much when there are microchips in your head that follow every step in the interests of insurance companies, creditor banks and antiterrorism committees. The civil society almost died, many developed countries, agonizing, were slipping into overtly totalitarian regimes, which, again, played into the hands of the Martians, who deny any statehood.
Thanks to the utmost militarization of the Russian Empire, it was possible to win the Second Space War: to break through the blockade and land large landings on Mars. Residents of the red planet managed by the Consultative Council of the Martian settlements put up fierce resistance, which led to the depressurization of a number of cities and the mass death of the civilian population. Under the pressure of all other countries and the threat of a full-scale nuclear war, in particular with China and the United States, the Russian Empire is forced to abandon its claims to the whole of Mars. Under the new treaty on Mars, the presence of other armed formations other than the UN peacekeeping forces, which quickly became a mere formality, was not allowed. In fact, it was the key moment of the whole modern history. Not without a squeak, the Martians themselves admit that people who implanted computers into their brains from total destruction as a class and as a social phenomenon were then only saved by the long-standing enmity of earthly states.
The subsequent Asian nuclear war between the Russian Empire and China for the last mineral resources of the planet, concentrated in the Arctic and Siberia, virtually eliminated the threat to the freedom of the red planet. Despite the fact that the Empire came out victorious from a mortal combat, its forces were completely undermined. The vast territories of Siberia and China have become unsuitable for life for decades. The Asian Nuclear War is unanimously recognized as the most terrible catastrophe in the history of mankind. After that, the countries that had passed under the patronage of the Martians were forever forbidden to have nuclear weapons.
The empire held on for another twenty years, when all other states de jure had already ceased to exist, having passed under the patronage of the Consultative Council. The latter state has long instilled fear in the Martians, but no more. In the end, one of the attempts on the emperor was crowned with success. Without the guiding dictatorial will of the ruthless dictator, the Russian Empire immediately collapsed into several Neurotek-like structures, tearing the Eastern Bloc from itself - a semi-gangster formation that arose in the underground refuges of Eastern Siberia and northern China. The largest debris was the corporation Telecom-ru, a conglomerate of former Russian IT corporations, which later won a good place for itself under the sun of the red planet. In particular, due to the fact that without undue hesitation I used the developments of MIK in the field of personnel management. However, it was controlled by the same 100% neuralts, like other Martian corporations, even if they were descendants of Russian colonists. Telecom obviously did not feel any warm feelings for the lost empire. The Martians breathed a sigh of relief: no longer contested the power of virtual reality.
There were no states on Mars initially, all were run by corporations like NeuroTech and MDT (Martian digital technologies) - the two largest network providers. The MDT company spun off NeuroTech at the dawn of its development, and together they were just as inseparable as the departed Republican and Democratic Party of the United States. These two vertically integrated giants united the most important technological chains for the modern world: software development, electronics manufacturing, and the provision of communication services. There was only one organization that remotely resembled a state organization - the Consultative Council of Martian settlements, which included representatives of all significant companies that closely followed the rules of competition.
The Martian Gustav Kilby, who is rumored to be a direct descendant of one of the twelve “students” of Edward Kroc, who for a long time carried out scientific research under the wing of BioTech Inc., a subsidiary of NeuroTech, founded his own corporation Mariner Instruments. Gustav Kilby's previous developments in the field of molecular computers allowed the company to launch the production of fundamentally new devices. In the past, molecular computers were considered an area that was too specific and of little prospect. The success of Mariner Instruments quickly refuted this conventional wisdom. Computers built on the principles of DNA molecules, in terms of the speed of solving some problems, caught up with traditional semiconductor crystals, and for the convenience of embedding them in the human body they were not equal. To implant m-chips, it was enough to make several injections, and not to torture the client with surgical operations.
To maintain the elusive leadership, NeuroTech, with great fanfare, announced a project to create a quantum supercomputer that can completely eliminate the difference between reality and its mathematical model. Developments on this topic have been carried out for a long time in many companies, but only NeuroTech managed to create a universal device, far superior in capabilities to any other types of computers. With the help of quantum machines, poets and artists could feel the breath of the approaching spring, gamers could feel the real adrenaline and rage of the fight with the orcs, and engineers could build a complete and workable model of the most complex product, like a spaceship, and virtually test it in any mode. Quantum matrices embedded in the nervous system, in their very first experiments, opened up fundamentally new possibilities for communication between people through direct transmission of thoughts. A little later, an even bolder project was announced for a complete rewriting of consciousness on the quantum matrix. The prospect of becoming a live supercomputer was as scary as most people were attractive to some of the elect.
In 2122, the Solar System froze in anticipation of another technological miracle. Simultaneously with the launch of several test servers, a grandiose advertising campaign was launched. The existing software hastily transferred to the new rails, while NeuroTech didn’t get rid of those who wanted to get the latest developments on the basis of quantum-mechanical uncertainty. Competitors from MDT powerlessly looked at the creating orgy and, just in case, pretend their chances in the market of office supplies.
What a surprise everyone was when NeuroTech unexpectedly closed the project, promising incredible benefits. The project was closed almost instantly and without explanation. Silently and without complaint NeuroTech paid huge compensation to customers and other affected subjects. All new network infrastructure was quietly dismantled and removed in an unknown direction. Program codes and technical information belonging to other companies were redeemed for any money, they were strictly classified and never used anywhere, although tremendous reserves were created in all areas. But, apparently, the commercial company did not worry at all the huge losses. In response to unavoidable questions, official representatives vaguely mumbled something about problems in the area of ​​the fundamental laws of physics. And nothing intelligible of them could not pull out. It is natural that the secret of the quantum project gave unlimited fantasy space to conspiracy therapists of all stripes for the coming decades, squeezing such fertile subjects from the pedestal as the killing of Kennedy, the execution of Edward Kroc or the mission of the Unity ship. No one has yet found out the real reasons for the hasty closure of the project and the hectic sweeping of traces. Maybe they really were in technical problems, maybe in this way, the Advisory Board, faithful to its ideals, preserved the balance of power in the Martian network business, and perhaps ...
Perhaps the network of quantum servers was supposed to be the last brick in the building of an ideal system of Martian domination. The computational power of networks would rise to such heights that it became able to control everyone. And the system needs to take one small step before realizing oneself, as a rational entity, which would henceforth control the development of mankind. People have never lived their own lives before: they didn’t do what was necessary and didn’t think about what was important. The system did not realize itself, but from time immemorial it was next to a person. Always cared about the usual division of society into higher and lower. I took care that the lower ones think less about the common good in the pursuit of primitive pleasures, and the higher ones - in the pursuit of power. For officials to be corrupt and to serve the interests of the financial oligarchy, to educate people unreasonable and disunited, to always sell drugs on the streets, so that the brilliance and poverty of human anthills leave only two possibilities: to step into the abyss or climb other people's backs.
Kings, presidents and bankers always felt my cold breath behind my back. And no matter what they fought for - for communism, or human rights, they knew for certain that they were breaking for the good of me, in the name of my inevitable final triumph. Because I am a system, and they are nobody. Together with the clumsy states, the last appearance of the fact that I am serving the interests of the millions of cogs that make me up has disappeared. Now I serve myself and my great mission. Quantum computers combined into a supernetwork will generate supermind, which will permanently establish the existing order of things, and the long-awaited “end of history” will come. But I cannot take this step into the future while the enemy is hiding inside me. It is almost harmless, hidden somewhere deep inside, but, when disturbed, it becomes deadly, like the Ebola virus. However, know, my last only enemy, know that you will not hide, you will surely be found and destroyed, and everything will be as the system decided ...
Chapter 1
Ghost
Early in the morning of September 12, 2144, the lieutenant of the security service of the Space Research Institute, Denis Kaisanov, was bored on the landing site on the roof of one of the institute buildings, waiting for his direct superiors to finally appear. Finishing a cigarette, he fearlessly jumped on a low parapet enclosing the perimeter, and, stepping to the very edge, with an expression of complete detachment on his face, watched a dying cigarette butt describing a sparkling arc in a predawn gloom.
Because of the roofs of the nearest houses, the sun appeared. It affably gilded faceless masses of gray concrete, but Denis took the onset of the new day with a fair amount of irritation. He, like a fool, appeared exactly at the appointed time and now stuck out next to the closed helicopters, while the authorities were still sipping sweetly in a warm bed. No, of course, neither the delay of the chief, nor the fact that Denis yesterday unwisely accepted the offer of his neighbor Lehi to roll, nor, as a result, the buzzing head and the terrible lack of sleep, did not spoil this particular, unremarkable morning. For some time every morning for him was not particularly joyful.
Just a few months ago, any time of the day or night at the click of the fingers was easily filled with a child of stupor and revelry. And not in the den of Lehi’s neighbor, littered with leftovers and empty bottles, but in the most expensive clubs in the west of Moscow. Yes, at that recent, but forever past time Dan was a major: he spent money in a prestigious district of Krasnogorsk, where under the tutelage of Telecom, Minatom and other corporations a stormy capital life was in full swing, he drove a hefty black SUV with a pontovy gas turbine engine, contained an elegant mistress and the rest felt like a pretty successful guy.
His well-being was inextricably linked with his work in the INKIS security service. Not with the salary, of course not. Yes, half of those with whom he did business at INKIS didn’t check their salary wallets for years, but the structure itself, which spreads its cumbersome bureaucratic networks throughout the Solar System, gave incredible opportunities for illegal enrichment. In their immense holds, spaceships plowing the expanses of deep space carried not only harmless lobsters to the table of alien gourmets, but also forbidden drugs, unregistered neurochips, weapons, implants, and a lot of different kinds of things, without which not a single serious organization accustomed to the fact that the ends justify the means. A share of this trade was sent to the most senior people at the top. At the very least, the director of the security department of the Moscow subdivision directed this activity rather than fought against it. The immediate chief of Denis, chief of operations, Jan Galetsky, was a protege of the director: seemingly some distant relative. Jan was responsible for the delivery of goods to Moscow customs. Denis quickly became the right hand of Yana because he never doubted himself and that his will, strength and nerves were enough to break any obstacles encountered on the way. Dan never got sick and thought he was not afraid of anything. He spent much of his time in the wastelands of Western Siberia, in small towns and settlements untouched by nuclear strikes, negotiating the supply of illegal goods. This was the very beginning of the chain, so the payment movement in the opposite direction was often inhibited somewhere in the previous stages, and the manners in the wastelands were harsh and simple, not to mention the Eastern Bloc, but Dan coped. An important role was played by the fact that his Dad and his grandfather on the Batin line were originally from the wastelands. The grandfather, an imperial paratrooper, sometimes told his grandson how, in his youth, he walked around Krasnoyarsk and stormed the underground cities of the red planet. And besides the stories of daring youth, he revealed to him many useful secrets that later helped him to survive and find a common language with the inhabitants of the wastes.
It seems that nothing foreshadowed a catastrophe, Dan had already made a small capitalist for himself, bought relatives real estate in Finland and thought about tying and somehow quietly knocking him out of business. He was not a dumb bull, occasionally he even asked himself uncomfortable questions about why INKIS owners tolerate such a hotbed of piracy and corruption at their side. Why are there the director of the INCIS, a civilized Martian community, and even though it pretends to have fastidious faces, it suffers, and the ships, filled with unknown means, regularly go through all the customs and inspections. It is not clear what prevents the technotronic cosmic civilization from shaking off such businessmen, like mud stuck on their boots. However, he asked questions, but did not find a simple answer to them, and therefore did not torture himself too much. He decided that the questions, for the answer to which it is necessary to climb into the complex social and philosophical jungles, are not worth it to the guys like him puzzled over them. He simply agreed with what everyone silently agreed with: the world is so arranged, the neighborhood of nanotechnology and the semi-criminal bottom for those who did not fit, was approved by someone at the very top, and there could be no other way.
Dan had no special illusions, he always understood that he was superfluous in this world. He, and indeed all of his familiar lads were like consumables, accidentally clinging to the plump pink process of Martian well-being, which someone forgot to hide. And it wasn’t even that Dan understood nothing about nanotechnology. Ordinary managers didn’t understand anything either, although they diligently pretended interest by buying new lotions for chips, but for some reason Dan was especially keenly aware of his alienness. Sometimes he caught himself thinking that the only place he really wanted to go is to wasteland. There he felt his own. Perhaps he could admit to himself that he loves wasteland, if not for his dubious activities there.
All sooner or later passes. So easy money, easy to get, also evaporated easily. On one not the most beautiful morning, Denis found in his office arrogant lads from the internal security department, digging around in the desk and personal files. All passwords had to be given away, the thugs acted so brazenly and convincingly that unshakable self-confidence gave a crack. It is good that he, at least, did not store anything really important on the working computer. But even the unimportant was more than enough. Dan was just amazed at how quickly and irrevocably everything ended. It seems that yesterday they were on horseback with Jan: they knew everyone, everyone knew them, and high patrons could otmazatsya from any trouble. And everyone was happy. In an instant, the idyll was destroyed, and most high-ranking officials were relieved of their posts. Jan's patrons, too, grabbed, or maybe they crept into the cracks and hid. And now the slow automatic transporter carries a lifeless, frozen body of Yana somewhere to the asteroid belt. There is severe radiation, constant risk and oxygen starvation will not allow the former chef to miss the next ten years. Their small illegal business no longer met the understanding above. On the contrary, someone very high-ranking and influential began to shake their cheerful freestyle, and the lads immediately somehow wilted. No one showed unity, strength of mind, or loyalty to each other; everyone was saved as best they could.
Dan had to urgently sell everything acquired by overworking: both cars, an apartment, a country house, and so on trifles. He immediately deposited the money in various kinds of law firms, although he was completely unsure that at least half of the money came to someone he needed. From a serious person who could ask for his investments, he at once turned into a powerless petty criminal. Very often, slightly wet, fleshy paws, without hesitation, accepted offerings, and then, in an instant, the bored voice promised to call back. Dan fought to the last, he did not want to run and did not want to believe that it was all over. Most of his more practical accomplices immediately started skiing, however, many of them were caught anyway. The particular guy had long arms at the top. And soon Dan himself met him. The new head of the Moscow INKIS security service, Colonel Andrei Arumov, invited him to talk to his office. There, at a huge old-fashioned table with a broad green stripe in the middle, Dan completely lost the remnants of his former self-confidence.
Arumov managed to instill fear in Denis. The colonel was tall, wiry, his small, slightly bulged ears looked somewhat caricatured on an absolutely bald skull, he had no hair or eyebrows at all, which suggested radiation sickness or chemotherapy courses. In addition, Arumov was sullen, reticent, very rarely and unkindly smiling, used to bury his interlocutor with a prickly, cold look, like a hired killer, and his entire face was covered with a mesh of small scars. Modern medicine without problems eliminated almost all physical defects, but the colonel probably believed that the scars are very well suited to his image. No, the appearance was not worth giving much importance, especially in the modern world, where anyone could, for an extra fee, install a couple of lotions on the chip that improve the complexion after a stormy night. But the eyes, as we know, are the window of the soul, and, looking into the eyes of the colonel, Denis shuddered. He saw the cold emptiness, as if looking into a bottomless sea depression, in which dim lights of unknown deep-water creatures occasionally flashed.
Oddly enough, the punishments that hit his head in no way corresponded to the eerie that Arumov was catching up on. In connection with the loss of confidence, Captain Kaysanov was just removed from his post as first deputy head of the operations department, demoted to the rank of lieutenant and transferred to the post of simple analyst. Dan was in some shock at the fact that he got off so easily. For some reason, the debugged system, which had been so swallowed by a much larger fish, worked on it. Denis, in general, did not believe in happy coincidences. He understood that it was necessary to urgently tear his claws, at least to his parents in Finland, and then on. Sooner or later they should have come for him. But for some reason the strength was no longer there, apathy and indifference to one’s own fate came over. The surrounding reality began to be perceived somehow detached, as if all the trouble was happening to another person, and he just watched an entertaining series about his throwing, comfortably lounging in a rocking chair and wrapping up in a warm blanket. Sometimes Denis tried to convince himself that the refusal to escape is a manifestation of a certain courage. Those who run are still caught and sent to the asteroid belt, and those who prefer to face danger face-to-face, and this cup miraculously passes. Some kind of unconscious part of consciousness understood perfectly well that when his frozen carcass would be kicked out of a transport worker, all the crap would instantly fly out of my head and would only regret that I chose to go on the scaffold rather than run. But the weeks went by, one month passed, the next one passed, but no one appeared for Denis. It seems that the gang of smugglers was considered finally defeated, and Aramov had other equally important matters.
But the trouble, the immediate danger seemed to have passed, but the obsessive longing and apathy did not pass. Now Dan lived in his parent’s apartment in a semi-abandoned district of old Moscow on Krasnokazarmennaya Street. And the change of environment, like the neighbor Lech, slowly but surely pushing him into the abyss of domestic alcoholism, of course, played a role. But the saddest thing was that every morning, just opening his eyes, Denis first saw in front of him a tattered wallpaper and a yellowed ceiling and recalled that now he was an interesting small fry in a huge ruthless system, with a meager salary and a complete lack of career prospects. He understood that he didn’t even have a profession, as there was any purpose in life. The old districts around Lefortovo Park slowly dilapidated and crumbled. After the collapse of the state, new people did not appear here, only the old ones were leaving or dying. And Denis also felt like an old abandoned house. No, there was, of course, the surest way to unwind, the best and safest drug in the world. The cunning device, spliced ​​with the neurons of the human brain, could show any fairy-tale world instead of hateful reality. In full immersion it is easy to become anyone. There, all women are slim and beautiful, like lungs of chamois, men are strong and indomitable, like snow leopards. But Denis didn’t want to escape in this way, he never liked virtual reality and considered its inhabitants miserable weaklings, before, and now. Somewhere he even clung to his quiet hatred of everything with the prefix "neuro", and this feeling did not allow him to fade away completely.
Denis leisurely straightened his uncommon grayish and white uniform of the security service, sat on the parapet and, without much interest, looked around, looking down from a height of fifty meters was a bit creepy, so all that remained was to enjoy the surrounding landscape. That's how the lieutenant missed, indulged in gloomy reflections, until a noisy company appeared. Ahead, a plump, smiling chief of the operations department, Major Valery Lapin, cut through the space. Behind him, two of his secretaries, the twins Kid and Dick, in presentable suits, skipped along. Unusual guys, I must say, and they had strange names - rather not names, but nicknames, and in general they were clones and partly cyborgs with a bunch of iron stuff in their heads, besides standard neurochips. Those who nicknamed them so long ago have sunk into oblivion, while these guys themselves had little interest in the origin of their names, they often resembled Denis ordinary cars, although they were polite, affable and quite emotional, and their always good-natured physiognomies, erudition and manner to speak and think in unison inevitably caused delight and affection in any company. Usually they were dressed the same way, only their ties were tied in different colors so that they could be somehow distinguished. The last to come was Anton Novikov, the current first deputy, with traces of the work of stylists and makeup artists on a sleek, self-confident face, spreading the fragrance of expensive cologne.
Two minutes later, an unremarkable helicopter, with a cabin tinted to full opacity, was already rising into the air, dispersing clouds of dust across the site. At the helm, Dick was seated, however, his whole job was to choose a destination for autopilot.
The lieutenant's mood was not so good, and then the chief began to lift it by showing new screensavers. Nearby the helicopter floated, successively replacing each other: wild jungles of Amazonia, storming ocean, snowy peaks of the Himalayas, some strange cities, sparkling with magnificence of huge mirror towers leaving high in the black starry sky, the image often blinked and froze: the chip did not cope with volume of information. Finally, the chief, seeing that Denis was not in the mood for all this, rolled off and left him alone.
“Listen, Dan, why are you so killed today?” Asked Anton with a malicious voice. - If you are going to represent our organization in Telecom with such a mug, it is better to go home, sleep it.
- Yes, what's the difference, even if booze in the ass, they still will take me with open arms.
- Well, anger them too, do not you agree?
“Maybe not worth it, although I really don't care what they think there will be.”
“Dan, this may be all the same to you, but not to the rest.” So be kind, stop thinking only about your own person, I, of course, understand that it is very important, but not enough to disrupt the main deal of the last ten years.
- You know what, Anton, - Denis suddenly got angry, - you stop thinking only about your own career, I, of course, understand that it is very important, but believe me, this so-called deal will stink so that you will not bathe before the end of life . And if you also tell me that ...
“Dan,” Lapin snapped off his angry tirade, “that's enough for today, I think?”
- Ok, chef.
“By God, Dan, you’ve become some kind of frostbitten,” added pleased Anton, “believe me, you shouldn’t be so upset about your own career.”
The chief slightly turned purple, made a threatening physiognomy and promised both to throw them out of the helicopter. The rest of the way passed in tense silence.
Twenty minutes later, the hulk of the Telecom research and development unit, the SRI RSAD, appeared. The control room immediately seized control and after checking the passwords took the car to one of the landing sites.
Denis got out of the cab and looked around. He was surrounded by multistory hulks of glass and metal. The rays of the dim morning sun were refracted in the crystal-clear windows of the upper floors, shooting dazzling reflections in the eyes.The neurochip came to life, tune in to the local network, and opened a welcome window with a bunch of advertisements that hung half a meter above the asphalt path, pushing the standard control panel somewhere to the background. It must be said that the person at the unprepared complex of the Research Institute RSAD made an indelible impression on all this novelty and technocracy exposed, parading all these robots and cybers respectfully moving towards the visitors. Yes, having come here for the first time, any person would have thought that if so much money was spent on all this, then it was worth it. He would surely walk through the shady park alleys, where the egg-heads of the Institute alternate excessive mental efforts with walks in the fresh air, and would certainly turn the screen of the local network into all the available space.to admire the complex from a breathtaking height of bird flight. Yes, and also, an outside observer might well have thought that no less remarkable people should work in such a beautiful place, but Denis didn’t have any illusions about it.
The chip's visual channel was painted in welcome reddish colors, which meant that it was now possible to move freely around the complex, though with the lowest level of admission: in Telekom, the color identification of the admission levels was adopted. It is quite natural that such organizations did not want anyone to stick their noses in their dark affairs, even if this subject obviously cannot cause any damage.
The official representative - the main researcher Dr. Leo Schultz - appeared on the screen without any warning: he could get into the local network without asking anyone in the head and you cannot get away from him. Presumably, he made just such an impression on his subordinates — the punishment of heaven: a tall, thin, dry yellowish face of indeterminate age, with a large, slightly reminiscent curved hawk-like beak, a nose, smoothly shaved, and without a single wrinkle. But after all, he, probably, for about a hundred years, in such an office you will not quickly become the main. Impeccable hairstyle with hair of rich blue-black color gave the doctor a slightly dainty, smart look. His eyes, unfortunately, spoiled this impression - the cold eyes of a cruel and intelligent old man. It seemed that for a long life all emotions faded in them and they became transparent and bright,similar to two icy mountain springs. And all this combined with deceptively soft, enticing movements. Exactly such people fit perfectly into the general structure of Telecom. Denis always didn’t like such types: it wasn’t that he was irritated by the doctor’s self-confidence and impeccability, but rather by a barely perceptible tinge of neglect that flashed in his impassive eyes.
- Hello, gentlemen. Glad to see you on the territory of our organization. As a host, I propose to use our hospitality. Sorry for not being able to plant immediately on the roof of the building, today everything is clogged.
“Uh-uh ...” - the chef was a little confused, he was just getting out of the cab and caught on something with his trouser leg. - How do we get on with the car?
- Put to remote control, the control room will take your helicopter to the parking lot. Do not be afraid, nothing will happen to him, - Leo made a faint smile, the chief smiled uncertainly in response, unable to move. - Simply you can stay with us longer than planned.
“Where can I find you?”
- Waiting at the entrance to the central building. You can use the guide, the tab in the upper right of the main page.
Denis vividly imagined all these red arrows along the tracks and inscriptions flashing in the air: “turn right”, “turn twenty meters left”, “carefully, near a steep slope” and grunted in a low voice:
- I love walks in the fresh air.
“If you like our park, you may not be in too much of a hurry,” Leo replied vividly. - A real work of art, isn't it?
- Yes, well, we will be fifteen minutes.
The doctor was removed from the visual channel, and bright advertisements and invitations reigned there again, calling for the services of the local network.
- Well, chef, are you coming? - Denis asked.
- Yes, now, - Lapin was freed from the captivity of the helicopter, - you know, I am not at all attracted to hang around this park.
- I, in principle, also, but it would be nice to show how we admire the power and prosperity of Telecom.
Lapin frowned in annoyance, he probably thought that their own organization would be poorer, larger in scale, but undoubtedly financed less qualitatively.
They still stood for a while, looking at the rising car, and then slowly moved along the path.
“You know, Dan, I seem to have torn my pants.”
- This, in my opinion, is not a problem, for sure there is a service in the network to disguise such absurdities and, moreover, is free, I think.
- It is not clear who it will affect, can only you and Anton.
- Well, Schultz will not work in any way. You stand before him in all its glory.
The chief made a sour mine, but judging by the glassy look, he decided to rely on local service. The rest of the journey continued in complete silence. Anton together with the twins went far ahead. The chief was clearly out of sorts. All these forest stands and the fact that they were attached did not please him: the singing of birds, the fluttering of butterflies and the fragrance of flowers. And the point here is not even in the annoying chance that happened during the conversation with Schultz, no, burning envy towards the staff of the scientific research institute was eating the boss. He was even thinking about changing his job, not seriously, of course, but somewhere deep inside he sat down a little worm that persistently itched that if he pressed on the right connections, a miracle would happen and he would be invited to Telecom for a good position, and All life problems will be solved. Here is where the real power and power:In the countless subdivisions of Telecom, no one knows what really lies behind faceless names, such as the development of automatic action systems.
Denis was not hurt by such a state of affairs, and there was no desire to change his place of work either. He liked to think that he still had some moral principles. For example, he would never voluntarily engage in what the staff of the SRI RIAD was doing. No, he, of course, was aware that his stormy adventures in the field of illegal trade are not a model of virtue, but what should be done in institutions like the RSAD Institute ... "Brrr ..., flayers," Dan shuddered. Something to get off this topic. Here, Anton is a svolot and an unprincipled careerist, he doesn’t care what to do: even to drown the kittens, even to sell drugs ”.
He dealt with a decent institute, including the transformation of ordinary members of the security forces into super-soldiers in the interests of the security services of various not-so-scrupulous corporations. Super-soldiers were a kind of fusion of man and cybernetic devices, allowing to get a whole complex of properties that are vital for any soldier. Arumov, apparently, decided that it was a great idea: to replace the code of fat thieving assholes in INKIS, getting out of the office only for the racketeering of smaller organizations, with a couple of battalions of fearless, obedient terminators. How exactly did the transformation process take place, Denis was not particularly interested. So, for the sake of sight, leafed through the materials provided. Anyway, at the top everything was already decided so that it was not worth worrying. Anyway,he did not want to deal with modified people and swore not to approach them closer than a kilometer. Unfortunately, the thought involuntarily sneaked into the head that Arumov had specifically held 100% convicts such as Denis in order to use the new version of uber zoldaten to work out the pilot version, but then suddenly the volunteers could not be found.
Denis’s fighting grandfather, who had strong drinks unleashed his tongue, was very fond of telling about the storming of Martian settlements in the distant 2093, among other spacebags. In principle, it is understandable - it was the most dramatic moment in his life, and, perhaps, in the history of the Russian Empire. Usually it all started with a description of how the grandfather, still a young reckless captain, falls out onto the red sand from a crumpled landing module and tries to find his BMP. Near someone shoots and falls, the black sky is all lined with traces of rockets and ships. Every few seconds, this orgy is illuminated by outbreaks of nuclear explosions in near space. In my head a complete mess of feverish negotiations, outdated orders, screams for help. In horror, civilians hid in hermetic houses and shelters.Part of the caves are barbarously uncorked by rocket attacks, but inside there is still a powerful defense in depth. Here the grandfather usually made a significant pause and added: “Yes, man, it was a real hell.” At that age, such pictures are great Dan in the soul.
The continuation, in principle, could be any, depending on the mood. Moreover, there were no serious requirements for the consistency of stories told at different times. Often, the grandfather told us that even more invincible special forces, consisting of imperial super-soldiers, were ahead of the invincible space landing to storm the caves. Check that the grandfather's stories were true, and that the legends, Denis could not, but the stories about the super-soldier, albeit clearly embellished, willingly believed. It is logical that immediately after the seizure of the throne, the emperor Gromov was preoccupied with creating a special kind of troops that would obey only him and did not discuss orders. Moreover, these were not just modified people, as in the projects of the Research Institute of RSAP, but organisms grown in vitro with an artificial genotype. They were assigned the most impossible taskswhen to drive forward ordinary soldiers and then receive funerals was fraught for the further general's career. Artificial soldiers were one of the most protected secrets of the Empire, they were rarely seen without combat suits, and very little was known about their true appearance. Well, at least, the grandfather served nearby and said that these guys are anthropomorphic creatures, and not some crabs. In the army they were often called ghosts. Despite their secrecy, the ghosts fought a lot and successfully. Grandfather authoritatively argued that if the ghosts had not gone to the embrasures in the first wave of the Martian landing, the losses during the storming of underground cities would have been enormous, and it’s not a fact that the assault would have taken place at all. The loss of ghosts, of course, did not bother anyone, perhaps even themselves. According to grandfather,in terms of combat capabilities, they gave a hundred points ahead not only to human soldiers, but also advanced combat robots. They had a better nose than a dog, they perceived a very wide range of electromagnetic radiation, could additionally be guided with the help of ultrasound, like bats, and fight without a spacesuit in conditions of open space and increased radiation. They had a skeleton, reinforced with composite inserts, muscles with very developed anaerobic glycolysis, like in reptiles, which allowed them to develop enormous strength in a fleeting fight and at the same time do without air. They could not be hit with a single shot, because all the vital organs were distributed throughout the body, such as vessels with muscles that were able to pump blood by themselves. Well, and a bunch of other superpowers attributed to them,right up to telekinesis and sending emanations of horror towards the enemy.
In the dungeons, the ghosts were the first to rush, directly to the undefended defense, not taking into account neither the losses nor the damage inflicted on peaceful cities. They had their own plan for this event, a little different from the plans of the command of the military space forces. They were not averse to making genocide against the local population. What successfully done when they were the first to break into the underground cities, while the brave troops were still digging somewhere above. The ghosts didn’t care about international agreements and customs of war, in their artificially and totally washed-out brains sat the only purpose for which they were created - to destroy the Martians. No, they were not so inveterate fascists and the classifying attribute was not at all the fact of permanent registration on Mars, but only belonging to the elite of Martian society.A proposal to walk along the red sand without a spacesuit was received by those who had implanted complex complexes of neural devices before birth. The ghosts tried not to touch the philistines using neurochip to drive online games. It is clear that the criterion was not only very blurred, but also difficult to apply in the field, so errors occurred. But if, somewhere in the depths of their genetically modified soul, ghosts and reproached themselves for innocently ruined warcraft lovers, then this had no effect on the effectiveness of their work. Filtration camps appeared immediately after the battle, when explosions still thundered in neighboring caves. Moreover, if unconscious civilians refused to voluntarily open shelters, this only led to massive casualties among them. Who gave the criminal order to kill the Martians of peace,or it was a personal initiative of ghosts, no one has figured out.
It might have been thought that the ghosts were perfect death knights, without pity and remorse, but the Martians who abused cybernetisation still had a chance to escape, ephemeral, of course, but still ... The ghosts were very fond of asking a single question: “What can change nature?” man? Apparently they were tormented by their vague doubts about their own identity. Or maybe they sat out after one ancient game and decided that a similar question, by definition not having the correct answer, is a great way to make fun of the victim who has not lost hope. However, the grandfather claimed that he personally saw a Martian who broke loose from the clutches of an old woman with a scythe, having come up with an answer that the ghosts liked. The Martian was very young, practically still a teenager. Neither he nor his parents actually belonged to any elite,they did not occupy high positions in corporations and lived in a small apartment in an industrial area, but the number of neurochips in their brains went off scale, and ghosts interpreted any doubts not in favor of the Martians. Parents and two children were shot, and for some reason they left one alive. It is unlikely that he was so happy with such a salvation. How many little Denis didn’t try to find out from his grandfather that the Martian had come up with an answer, all in vain. Grandfather and his army friends himself repeatedly puzzled over this and did not invent anything intelligible.How many little Denis didn’t try to find out from his grandfather that the Martian had come up with an answer, all in vain. Grandfather and his army friends himself repeatedly puzzled over this and did not invent anything intelligible.How many little Denis didn’t try to find out from his grandfather that the Martian had come up with an answer, all in vain. Grandfather and his army friends himself repeatedly puzzled over this and did not invent anything intelligible.
After the collapse of the empire, the ghosts, in full accordance with their unofficial name, seemed to have dissolved in the air. By now, they should have simply become extinct: even if we assume that someone could provide them with proper medical care, they certainly did not know how to reproduce themselves. Although, by the way, who knows what they knew there ...
“Dan, where did you take us to this place?” The chief interrupted his memories. Pine forest rustled around, silver buildings of the institute could be seen through the frequent gaps, somewhere in the distance ...
- Sorry, chief, I dreamed of something.
- Something you today and the truth is out of shape, we'll be late, and ours have disappeared somewhere. This Schultz will think that we have marked all the bushes in his fucking park.
Thus, the day did not ask from the very beginning. Further events developed in approximately the same vein. Leo together with the twins and Anton met them at the entrance. I was not offended at the delay, was polite and helpful. He led the guests throughout the institute, showed some installations and test benches, alternating his speech with a bunch of technical details, and confidentially confessed that because his organization was so successful, so rich, so prosperous, and so on, they were even trusted to develop the new operating room systems for Telecom network servers. Naturally, the scientific research institute coped brilliantly with the order, making a revolution in this area in passing, but so far he has asked not a word for anyone: the work has not yet been completed. Leo played his part excellent. Denis Neurochip obediently wrote down all this nonsense, he had to pretendthat he delves into the technical details of the project in order to make a positive decision anyway. All the staff members turned around and looked at the chef's clothes as if on cue, as if someone had suggested them, in a low voice released some comments. The chief, of course, blushed, was nervous, cursed in a low voice, answered questions inadvertently, Leo instead of not noticing it, politely raised his left eyebrow, or smiled no less politely with the words: "If you do not understand something, you ask" let loose in incomprehensible explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.as if someone had suggested to them, in a low voice released some comments. The chief, of course, blushed, was nervous, cursed in a low voice, answered questions inadvertently, Leo instead of not noticing it, politely raised his left eyebrow, or smiled no less politely with the words: "If you do not understand something, you ask" let loose in incomprehensible explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.as if someone had suggested to them, in a low voice released some comments. The chief, of course, blushed, was nervous, cursed in a low voice, answered questions inadvertently, Leo instead of not noticing it, politely raised his left eyebrow, or smiled no less politely with the words: "If you do not understand something, you ask" let loose in incomprehensible explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.you ask, "let out in the long obscure explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.you ask, "let out in the long obscure explanations. Anton also behaved disgustingly: he was interested in everything, wanted to know everything in more detail, wanted to get to know everyone, joked, laughed - the enthusiasm from him was beating with the key.
In the end, an endless chain of similar laboratories merged into one continuous white spot, there were some kinds of deputies, department heads, leading experts and just friends of Leo. It was necessary to greet everyone with everyone, to get acquainted, to discuss their scientific ideas, in which Denis saw no point. All this, mixed with praise for the material and technical base of the scientific research institute, was apparently considered to be a bad tone - to give strangers to doubt the unlimited power of the organization. If only there was some little thing that didn’t suit anyone: there was no cream in the coffee shop in the buffet, or the bushes in the park were crooked, but no, everything is perfect.
This epic ended in a hefty conference room on the second floor, one wall of which was completely occupied by a crystal-clear window overlooking the park. Literally ten meters from them, a small streamlet murmured, cyberseaders enthusiastically courted exotic vegetation, such as bright tropical flowers, obviously not adapted for these latitudes and seasons. In the peaceful park trees, hand squirrels galloped, two employees, of the botan type, tried to depict some kind of physical activity on a training ground nearby. The picture was the most idyllic, it was impossible to imagine that here ruthlessly shred people for power and money.
Funny robot blinked delivered them a late lunch or an early dinner, at which they gathered to discuss the latest details. The conversation initially struck up pretty casual, mostly about new Japanese cars, or about past corporate parties. Denis preferred to remain silent, despite the delicate attempts of Schultz to talk to him. The twins occasionally smiled, in unison letting go of politically correct jokes, emphasizing with their whole appearance that they are here, in principle, nobody, one is the main carrier of the laptop, the other is the deputy chief carrier. Anton naturally ate three throats and chatted incessantly, trying to show his business and other awareness, blabbing including quite confidential information. The chef did not even try to reason with him, and in general he felt clearly uncomfortable, this kind of thing happens to a personwho understands that out of mercenary motives he has become entangled in a dirty business, where at best he plays the role of a presiding president. Gradually, the chef’s appetite disappeared altogether, he gloomily picked food and reluctantly flipped through the protocol with which Leo increasingly spammed over the network and offered to sign.
- Denis, did anything happen to you? - Leo left Lapin alone for a while and decided to attack the taciturn subordinates.
- No, why do you think so?
- Well, are you just silent all the time, or maybe you are hiding something from us?
“Oh, what are you,” Anton gladly stood up for his colleague, “Denis just recently has so many problems: at work and in his personal life, as far as I know.
Leo sympathetically shook his head:
- Well, it means it is necessary to correct the mood.
The robot garcon readily opened the trailer, in which a whole battery of various bottles was placed on the rotating drum.
- Do you prefer strong drinks, wine?
“I prefer tea,” said Denis dryly, “with lemon, please.”
- Oh, what are you, what kind of tea at this time of day. Here, I recommend Scotch whiskey.
Leo was not too lazy to pour the viskarik himself into the glasses and in exact throws to send the portions to the guests.
- So, I think it's time we do away with certain formalities. You understand that without a protocol, it turns out that our day was intense and intense, but somewhat to no avail. And you and I need to somehow report to the leadership.
- Yes, for a banquet, - Denis growled.
“Well, including,” Leo agreed without embarrassment.
- And you write down on hospitality.
“I’ll write off, but only if the protocol ...
Leo guiltily spread his hands, as if to say:“ I'm not some kind of beast, but I have to report to the viskarik. ”
Lapin had such a look, as if he were willing to pay in sufficient quantity from his own pocket any alcoholic beverages in sufficient quantities to knock Schultz down.
“Yes, of course, only I will first go out for a smoke,” the chief found, “aren't you here smoking?”
“No, they do not smoke,” Leo smiled indulgently, like a well-fed cat from boredom who gave a mouse a reprieve before an imminent execution, “walk along the corridor to the right to the end, there you can smoke on the balcony.”
“We will soon, literally five minutes,” the chief mumbled, slapping his pockets fussily, “Dan, you will go, otherwise I seem to have forgotten cigarettes.”
- Yes, I'm coming.
The balcony consisted of a whole terrace with comfortable seating and a view of the pretty hateful park.
“Here are the goons,” Lapin boomed, flopping into a chair, “who would have let us have such a smoking room.” And this Schultz is Hans aspiring ... "we will write off for hospitality, but only if the protocol ...". With a leg bastard, and then builds himself ...
- Listen, chef, I do not think that in this building there is at least a millimeter of space that is not listening and not visible. Can we discuss delicate questions by personal chat?
- Yes, they all went. There is only one delicate question, how would I get rid of the protocol? Well, we arrived, we walked, and we will send the signed protocol in a week. I’ll go on vacation three days later, Anton will sign, he’s here, bitch, an enthusiastic Stakhanovist. And we are able to translate arrows, let it then Arumov foul in all cracks.
“That's right, of course, you argue,” agreed Denis, slowly dragging on, “but we must somehow justify the delay. So simply, our hero Schulz will not say: we will send in a week, because he will not get rid of.
“He won't lose it,” the chief smoked nervously and hastily, “listen, Dan, you're a smart guy, wake up with brains.”
- I like everyone else: I did not read the documents very much. Yes, and I do not understand anything in biophysics and nanorobots.
- I did not read it, but I need to otmazyvatsya.
- What did Arumov say about the protocol?
- But what will he say, you understand how this is done: you analyze everything carefully and if there are no serious remarks, sign.
- So you need to find comments in the materials or protocol.
“Thank you, cap,” he saluted Lapin caustically with a cigarette, “but I myself didn’t guess.” This Schultz will smear us with any comments on the wall. And if you do not understand, they have agreed on everything with Arumov for a long time and, God forbid, he will call him. Here it is necessary to find such a stop-based, reinforced-concrete remark, so that no one prikopalsya.
- Where can you find it ...
They were silent for a couple of minutes, admiring the sunset nature through clouds of smoke.
“Nothing special comes to mind,” began Denis, “but let's at least draw some time, maybe Schulz sucks his viskari and goes to sleep.”
- Do you suggest sitting here until he gets drunk?
- No, you can politely pull. Let's ask him to show Telecom super-soldiers. Like, show the goods by face, otherwise we go for a whole day wandering around, but we have not seen the most interesting.
- It is unlikely that everything is so simple, maybe they are not even here, and they have already been shown to Arumov.
“Well, since Arumov was shown, let him take the pressure off himself.” For me, so the request is the most trivial. You want to sell something, show the goods first face. And the longer they look here for them, gather and so on, the better. We still think about it ...
- We ’ll think ... we can think like that all night, to sense something ... However, let's try, you see, Hans really spits on everything and rolls it off.
By the prospect of something else to demonstrate Leo, naturally, treated with ill-concealed annoyance.
“Well, I hope you realize that I cannot arrange a small, victorious war for you to see with your own eyes?” He asked, not too politely.
“Why do we have a war right away,” Denis spread his hands, “I’ll splash us some more, do you mind?”
- Of course, be so kind.
- So, we would like to see the units of super-soldiers, which RIAS Research Institute has. You undoubtedly use your own development? And at the same time trying out your unique combat command and control system, we have heard so much about it ...
- Oh, fine, I don’t have to confuse half of our security service. And we do not use terms like “super-soldiers”. For your information, they are the same people as you. We say - special units.
- I understood. Sorry. There is no need to lift the entire security service over your ears; three or four people are enough and to include your wonderful program.
- Such requests should be warned in advance. This is to be approved, at least, by the deputy of the security service ...
- Leave, Leo, will you really refuse us a trifling request? We do not deny you anything. Apparently, our assistants confused something with the agenda of the meeting, we were absolutely sure that the event was agreed.
Kidd addressed Denis with an ironic look, but, having stumbled upon Lapin’s threatening face, immediately confusedly nodded and climbed into his mail:
- Yes, yes, I'm sorry I messed up, even a letter from the management asking ...
- Yes, include a demonstration of the use of special forces ..., - Dick came to the rescue.
“We are to blame, we are completely shocked,” said the brothers in chorus.
Leo twisted, watching this mediocre performance, but propriety was respected, therefore, grumbling a little more, he suggested to wrap up with a meal.
A few large recliner chairs, similar to massage ones, rolled over. Leo explained that at first they will demonstrate the capabilities of a tactical simulator and a combat control system, and this is best done in full immersion. The capacity of the internal network of SRI RSAD completely allowed to realize the functions of full immersion without connecting to the terminal, and the chairs could replace the biowann for a couple of hours. The real, not virtual, super-soldiers were promised to show them later. Leo got a little more involved about the fact that along with the informational materials, he also sent out demo versions of all the programs. Lapin, in response, quite frankly offered not to show off. But in the end, everyone calmed down, lay down comfortably and launched a network application.
The quiet Moscow region evening faltered and began to blur as if someone had splashed water on a watercolor drawing: the designers had done their best. We began to vaguely guess some kind of outlines - and this was the case, at least for Denis. The half-formed image blinked and went out a couple of times, and the whole surrounding space disappeared along with it. Disappeared and immediately appeared again, but still the feeling was unpleasant: as if you were suddenly blind. An alarming red window unfolded right in front of the nose, requiring a reboot of the system.
Denis cursed and removed the ribbon of the flexible tablet. The old neurochip refused quite often, and Denis each time commemorated the very unkind word of the creators of this device. Although his neurochip, in general, was not such, representing a very antediluvian system of contact lenses, miniature headphones and an external tablet that performed the functions of a computer, transmitting signals to lenses and headphones through several wires implanted under the skin. Compared to any, the most overwhelming provincial of the Russian hinterland, not to mention cyborg like Dr. Schulz, Denis was completely free from alien interference in the body.
In all, of course, there are pleasant moments. But it became possible to observe the life of a corporation in a more natural and relaxed atmosphere, without any service programs there. It was very pleasant to see that the park is not so perfectly trimmed and symmetrical, that the lush tropical greenery of the rarest species, planted next to the streamlet, all these huge bright flowers that do not exist in nature are not the painstaking work of many geneticists and gardeners, and the hackwork is only a couple of computer rats and one designer, and that is not the best. With all kinds of butterflies and flocks of hummingbirds, he clearly overdid it. But the most pleasant discovery was that Dr. Schultz, like an aging maiden, greatly abused not only cosmetics, but also clever programs that mask his true identity. And his face is slightly wrinkled and tired, and his eyes are swollen,there are a lot of wrinkles and the shirt is not so dazzlingly white. It looks just like an ordinary person, and not the main researcher of a huge research institute - it’s nice to see.
Denis’s blooming physiognomy is the first thing that came before the doctor’s eyes when he returned to the ordinary world. The rest of the team continued to stare somewhere with a blank stare. The doctor was very puzzled, if not shocked. Two ambala security guards and a man in civilian clothes, most likely the doctor on duty, hurried to them. “They probably thought that I should now, like a blind mole, who was pulled out of a hole, rush screaming about the room, bumping into robots and crushing bottles with expensive liquor,” thought Denis and smiled even wider.
“It's all right, gentlemen,” he said, without ceasing to smile, “I have a very old chip, if it fails, it automatically turns off. I'm alright.
- How old is he? - the run up doctor was surprised, he naturally did not expect that help was not required. Any modern model was too deeply tied to the human nervous system, and even restarting or reinstalling the operating system of the chip itself turned into a medical problem.
“Oh, very old,” said Denis evasively, “even the function of total immersion does not work well in it.
- Where did you find this? - the doctor shook his head in bewilderment and made a sign to the guards to leave, he was very upset that because of such nonsense as the old neurochip, he was torn off from more pleasant things and forced to run headlong to the aid of a man who seems to be fine. - We would have long found time and replaced it with a new one. And then go with such rubbish in your head - your own head, not official.
- That's it. I do not trust anyone to dig in my head, sorry.
- This is a phobia, it is easily treated, - indignantly growled growled angry doctor, and went after the guards.
Now Leo seemed very interested in this story. I must say, he knew very well how to hide his feelings, but now for some reason he did not find it necessary to hide his surprise. Yes, the venerable doctor understood all sorts of different cybernetics and, in contrast to the retreating doctor, was extremely meticulous and curious.
- Something you darken, dear friend. Neurochips, which can simply be turned off or reloaded, have not been released for sixty years, I guess. Yes, no one would simply implant such rubbish, and he would not be able to register in our local network.
- What difference does it make to you?
- Frankly, I am intrigued. You are an extremely unusual person, Denis, - from the tone of Leo, the usual cold courtesy disappeared somewhere
- I'm glad to hear, just do not get me friends.
- And what, you and have no friends?
- In fact, no one has friends, this is self-deception.
“Where does this cynicism come from?”
- Just a sober look at human nature.
- Ok, Denis, you do not think that I want to be your friend. I also do not really believe in strong male friendship.
Leo grinned crookedly, poured himself more whiskey and pulled a huge ashtray out of the same trailer and a set of dark golden cigars smelling like closed elite clubs where imposing uncles decide who will become president tomorrow and when it is time to bring down the blue-chip quotes.
“Disgusting, of course, but I like to break the rules,” he explained.
Denis reacted to these preparations and the obvious desire of the doctor to establish closer contact with some suspiciousness and politely refused the proposed smoking stump.
“You see, I’m interested in unusual people,” Leo explained, “only really unusual, but you know, everyone pretends to be unusual, but in fact they are fighting against the system only from the depths of their cozy biovans.”
- Why did you decide that I am against the system?
- Why then need a similar chip? Modern networks are quite safe - computer terrorism and hackers have long gone out of fashion.
- My job is not safe.
“Well, well, otherwise I’m looking so gloomy all the time, just kidding, of course.” But do not powder my brains. I am willing to bet that the matter is much more serious ...
- You shouldn’t get into my life, it’s mine, and I’m doing what I want with it.
- Of course, but it is silly to conduct a policy of double standards in relation to oneself.
- In terms of?
- In direct, you are like a sensible guy who does not believe in people, and rightly so. But therefore, it is doubly foolish to believe that your life in this cruel world belongs to such an essentially insignificant being as yourself.
- At least in my head only I am registered.
The doctor grinned again.
- You know, I have here requested information about you, do you mind?
“He wants to annoy me, apparently,” Denis decided.
- No, of course, I suggest that you also come to my house and rummage in dirty socks.
Leo only grinned in good-humored way.
“About the way Russian corporations are protecting personal information, I don’t have any illusions,” Denis smiled knowingly at Leo's smirk.
“I just don’t leave too much information about myself,” he said to himself.
- So, you are not registered in any social networks, you do not have a credit history, which in itself, by the way, is suspicious. There is no large property, although it may be framed for relatives ... but it does not matter. The most amazing thing is that you do not have medical insurance and there seems to be no record of the implantation of the neurochip.
- I told you, I don’t trust anyone to dig into my head.
- That is, there is no chip? - the doctor's eyes glittered like a hunting dog that had taken a trail. - So, there is only an external device that simulates his work.
- You say that as if it is against the law.
- Technically, of course, there is nothing illegal in it. But in practice, this is very discouraged when the registration of the chip in networks is untied from the person himself. I still do not really understand why you need it? After all, you yourself doom yourself to the lack of normal work, well, I don’t take into account the work in the Russian Empire stubs ...
- Thank you, I like working in stubs.
- No, seriously, you don't even go anywhere in Europe, I'm not talking about Mars anymore. More precisely, how lucky, depending on how well your device simulates the operation of a normal chip.
“I will go wherever I want, this is an old military model, created specifically for the higher ranks of the army and the MIC, but it was ahead of its time for many generations,” Denis decided to brag. - In addition to the emergency shutdown function, there is a lot of things in my machine: you can, for example, selectively turn off incomprehensible information flows that sometimes appear on the network.
- Any neurochip is able to defend against virus programs, especially in modern networks, they really have almost none.
- I was not talking about viruses.
- What about then?
- Is it so important?
“I’m interested,” Leo said emphatically, politely, “maybe there are some incomprehensible flows of information in our network, it would be extremely unpleasant.
- There are, they are in almost all networks.
- What a nightmare, and you would not agree to go to other divisions of Telecom to identify ...
- My friend, Leo, I don’t understand your humor, I talked about cosmetic and other service programs that are essentially no different from viruses: brazenly climb into my skull with the full, among other things, the connivance of the developers of operating systems for network servers and neurochips, which do not provide any means of protection against such interference.
- Do you really believe in these machinations of the yellow press, that you can turn ordinary people into slaves of virtual reality at the click of a finger?
- I am quite ready to believe that this is being done permanently for commercial purposes, and I want to see the world with my own eyes.
“Ah, what are you talking about?” Leo sighed with relief, “I can assure you that at least in European and Russian networks the user is always notified about the operation of such programs, and any cases of illegal intrusion are carefully monitored and unscrupulous providers lose their license.” I also want to assure you that the new operating system developed by our institute has special measures for protecting users, very serious measures.
- Save, please, praise to your own program for someone else.
“You literally doubt every word of mine: it will be hard for us to work together.” Actually, well, even if the providers are not being followed very carefully, but what difference does it make: well, you see, it’s not something that really is. And in fact, all smart people are well aware that cosmetic programs are one continuous divorce. Here you bought, for example, a prog for five hundred eurocoins, so that the cubes on your stomach appear or your chest grows into a couple of sizes. And another fool richer paid a thousand for the firewall of the same office and makes fun of you. Well, if you're a fool, then buy a super-cosmetic program for two thousand ... and so on, until the money runs out.
“And I'll just take off the lenses and save a couple thousand.”
- If desired, any cosmetic program can be circumvented without such victims.
“I know,” agreed Denis, “they are generally unreliable, there are all kinds of mirrors, reflections, and so on.
“Well, with mirrors and reflections, the problem was solved long ago, but any external device such as a camera, especially not connected to the network, often allows you to detect the work of a cosmetic program by simply viewing the footage. In fact, this service normally works only on Mars, or in some local networks.
- Yeah, like your network. I didn’t want, of course, to start this conversation, but, let's say, you’ve got a lot of ink.
Leo addressed the other person a smile full of caustic irony.
- And I thought that in the local network I am a king, god and great moderator in one person, and then some lieutenant appeared and caught me so easily. Woe to me, get drunk, perhaps. You, by the way, pour too, have a snack, do not be shy. And believe me, your advantage over a simple man in the street is rather ephemeral, but you create a lot of obvious problems for yourself.
“And what did he cling to me, and the bastard is still drinking,” thought Denis, “although I perform my task: he completely forgot about the protocol.”
“You think you are superior to others with something,” Leo continued to rant, waving his cigar towards those who lay motionless, staring at the ceiling, nearly sprinkling them with ashes, “this is also an illusion, no worse and no better than other generally accepted illusions . Man generally lives in the captivity of illusions, no matter what form they are presented. In different epochs this could be Hollywood and cadilla waving on Sundays and other nonsense. And to deny neurochips is the same thing as to deny progress as such: after all, it is obvious that humanity has no other way to step to the next step of development, except for direct modification of the mind and, if I may say so, human nature. The development of our civilization can be successful only if it is based on an adequate improvement of the person himself. Admit that hairless monkeys,in fact, controlled by their instincts and other atavisms, but sitting on a pile of thermonuclear missiles - this is a kind of civilizational deadlock. The only way out of it is to improve your mind by the power of your own mind, such recursion is obtained. The emergence of neurotechnology is the same qualitative leap forward as the creation of a scientific method.
- You know, in my opinion, you should not be crucified in front of a hairless monkey like me. You have a good swag in the sharag, escort services for clients would not hurt.
“Come on,” Leo said. - How would you react to the prospect of moving your mind straight to the quantum matrix? Can you imagine what opportunities open up? Control yourself as if by a computer program, simply erasing or changing certain pieces of firmware. Your neurophobia could be fixed in one motion.
- Fuck this happiness. But seriously, I don’t think that the person will remain a person after that, but rather the output will be a very complex program. Of course, I have no idea what rationality is and whether it can be turned into ones and zeros and, say, add someone more intelligence ... In short, I don’t believe that a computer program can correct itself.
“You may not believe, but this is more like a primal fear of technology, which is so incomprehensible that it seems akin to witchcraft.” This is absolutely logical limit of our development, after which a new stage in history will begin. Is it not beautiful - the intangible world will finally triumph over the mortal physical sheath. You could become like a deity: move spaceships, conquer the stars. Being a human being, you are forever bound by this meager speed of light, you will never conquer the universe, except the one closest to us. A quantum mind with the help of "fast communication" can be worn across the galaxy at the speed of thought and wait millions of years until its vehicles reach Andromeda.
- Wait a million years, but I will erase myself from boredom. I personally like the prospect of hyperspace cruisers and the conquest of the Andromeda nebulae in the spirit of senseless and merciless social realism.
- Fantasy, and not scientific. The way I described to you is real. This is our future, no matter how you are afraid of it and do not want to convince yourself of the opposite.
“Maybe I won't even argue.” And once again I remind you that for your PR campaign the wrong target audience has been chosen.
- This is not a PR campaign?
- Of course, we are thinking about the fate of mankind. Nevertheless, there are vague suspicions that our conversation is a cleverly disguised advertising campaign of Telecom products: only today, rewrite your consciousness on the quantum matrix and get a miracle electric grill as a gift.
Leo just snorted.
- Can you also hate advertisers? Damned traders, is not it?
- There is some.
“You can still survive on our little backward territory, but, for example, on Mars, if you allow yourself to settle there, you will look like a real outcast, just like a man walking around the city on a horse, with a sword on his side.”
- Well, okay. Suppose even I have certain problems, but I absolutely do not want to "talk" about it. I like to be the marginal image of which you diligently draw. No, not even that, I like to destroy myself, I find in this a kind of masochistic pleasure. And I still do not understand where this psychoanalytic itch came from.
- I apologize for persistence, I have a brother - a psychoanalyst, working in one very interesting office on Mars. It would be interesting for you to get acquainted with its activities.
- Why?
- It is, oddly enough, the most piquant way confirms your, in general, not particularly logical phobias.
- Why all the time phobias? Why do you think I'm afraid of something?
- Firstly, everyone is afraid of something, and secondly, if you talk about you, you are still afraid of neurochips and virtual reality. You are afraid that they will get into your head for someone's malicious intent and tweak something there.
“Can't that happen?”
- Maybe the world around it in principle has a similar property. But you can not zakuklitsya and look at the world through the aquarium glass until his death.
- This is a big question, who looks at the world from the aquarium. I don’t mind changing, but I want to change according to my will as much as possible.
- It is still a big question, whether a person can change of his own will, or something should always push him.
- I am not going to play philosophy with you. Just accept as a fact, I have such a life credo: the network should not have power over me.
- Credo, very curious.
Leo hesitantly paused and leaned back in his chair, as if pulling away slightly from the interlocutor. He looked displeased at Lapin, who fidgeted in his chair, no, he could not hear and see this conversation, and all his movements were clear and precise, precisely calculated by a computer. Thus, the neurochip prevented the muscles from leaking and restored normal blood circulation, so that the person did not feel like a stiff doll after several hours of immobile sitting. Eerie people look during a complete immersion, sort of like sleeping, but with open eyes. Breathing is even, the face is calm and serene, and even such a person can be awakened: the neurochip responds to external stimuli and interrupts the immersion. But who knows if the same person will look at you upon returning from the virtual world.
- Credo, it means. That is, you want to say that you always follow certain rules. Can we call it a code, a code of hate for neurochips and martians? - stubbornly continued to analyze Leo. - So, some provisions of your code are already clear to me.
- what are the same?
- We formulate it this way: leave as few traces as possible. The rest follows from this global principle: do not take loans, do not register on social networks and so on. I guess?
Denis only frowned in response.
- No cybernetic intervention in the body - the second obvious rule. Clear the soul and mind you must, young Padawan. Well and, for sure, the standard set to boot: do not have attachments, do not trust anyone, do not be afraid of anything. You know what's really interesting in all this?
- And what?
- You do not pretend and strictly follow the rules of your code. Do you, by the way, have no followers, disciples?
“You can sign up for my first free seminar.”
“Still, this is a phobia,” with these words, Leo sat back further and contentedly, “and so strong that you built a whole theory around her.” This is not as easy as it seems, to resist all the life of the corrupting influence of the Martians. To do this, you need to have some kind of supervaluable idea, or be very afraid of something. Just think how simple it is, several hundred euro-points, a two-day stay in the medical center, and all the pleasures of the world at your feet. Yachts, cars, women or orcs with elves, just reach out and take.
Denis did not answer, shrugging his shoulders in irritation. He underestimated the ability of the doctor to get into the interlocutor's soul. Yes, a person who has lived under a hundred years and has at its disposal an entire staff of professional psychoanalysts, with the Martian brother in addition, must have a perfect mastery of such techniques. Denis had no doubt that this staff of psycho- and other analysts existed, and during the important negotiations Leo, for sure, uses their services. However, in this situation, it was hardly worthwhile to fence a complicated conspiracy theory; Denis simply relaxed and inadvertently revealed his true nature. Yes, damn it, he is afraid of neurochips and virtual reality, he feels like a hunted wolf in a world where the territory of “pure reality” is inexorably shrinking every day. And he, by and large,I never even tried to understand the reasons for my hatred. What makes him so stubbornly reject the seemingly quite obvious truth of life? Perhaps, he is really just a desperate marginal, subconsciously feeling his inability to fit into modern society? “I'm just a ghost,” thought Denis, “of flesh and blood, but a ghost living in a world that has long been of no interest to anyone. Where almost no one left.
“I would set good psychologists on you,” Leo seemed to be guessing thoughts, “they would have devoured you with giblets, I'm joking again, of course, do not pay attention.” This is not often hear, most people do not understand.
- And you mean you understand?
“Well, yes, I have a lot of life experience, appreciate it,” Leo smiled slightly. - There is such an interesting psychological effect: no one is inconvenienced by the fact that there is a chip in his head that completely controls his nervous system and which can potentially be controlled by someone else. As I said, even if you see a little something that really is, so what? Maybe your behavior is even slightly corrected in something, well, okay, it's still better that way than when being kicked and bludgeoned with sticks. Let's assume that the network is created and controlled not by man, but by some infallible supreme being. The modern world is too complex and incomprehensible, it is necessary to accept it as it is.
- It turns out this is no phobia at all.
- Yes, that is the reality, so your fears are doubly irrational. You might as well hate food producers for being able to control you with hunger. Or, for example, a gun attached to the head controls your behavior much more reliably than a clever tab in the chip's operating system.
- Do not you see the fundamental difference? It's one thing when you are controlled from the outside, but you realize who forces you and how, and quite another when it is done to bypass consciousness.
- And you do not understand that there is no difference, the result will always be the same: someone will control you. Previously, they were clumsy bureaucrats with a bunch of silly pieces of paper. They were not able to respond to the challenges of time, so they were replaced by more flexible and developed elites of transnational IT corporations. The control of the Martians is thinner and more complex, but it is no less reliable.
“That's it, I never forget who develops operating systems for network servers, and I don’t want to check for myself what kind of psychological effects they can create.”
- That is, you prefer the stupid pressure of a totalitarian state machine?
- Why should I choose from two obviously bad options?
- A rhetorical question? There would be another, wonderful in all respects option, I would also choose it. Okay, let's leave this topic. In the end, each of us has our own weaknesses, ”Leo generously suggested.
- Leave, it seems to me that we are a little bit messed up, our colleagues are probably worried.
- I do not think, most likely they are completely absorbed in what they see. Yes, we will join them now. Our administrator has solved your little problem, now in the application there is an option of partial immersion. Can you imagine how tight you were on Mars? The most innocent domestic action turns into a huge problem. But sooner or later, the Martian network standards will get even to these outskirts of civilization.
Denis is already rather tired of these hints of his slight underdevelopment. He wanted to flare up, but, catching the cold-mocking gaze of the interlocutor, he realized that it was necessary to look for a better answer.
- I see our conversation, in addition to discussing my horrific phobias, all the time comes down to Mars: Mars, Mars-se ... Why would it? It seems that not only do I have certain complexes.
“Well, I told you, everyone has them.”
- But you do not want to disclose them.
“You can disclose it,” Leo generously allowed.
- Why, I probably will save such interesting information.
“Save,” Leo grinned even wider, “do you think that the information that I have special feelings for Mars has some value?” I will tell you more, I do not mind changing the hateful Russian reality to the Martian one.
- But you want not just to move, otherwise you would have long gone after your brother. You want to occupy the same position there as here. But, apparently, does not go, the Martians do not recognize you as equal?
For a single moment, something like an old rage awoke in Leo’s eyes, but then disappeared.
- I will have a chance to improve the situation. But maybe you are right, to anything this senseless digging in other people's problems, let's better think about how to help each other.
- And how can we help each other? - Denis was surprised, he did not expect such a turn of conversation.
“I can help in solving, for example, your psychological problems,” Leo answered with a hint of voice. “A branch of the Mars Land company DreamLand has recently opened in Moscow, they specialize in the healing of human souls. Go to them.
“Is he kidding? - thought Denis. “If there is some hidden meaning in his words, I didn’t catch it.”
“Well, I’ll come in, and what are you going to give me a discount on their services?”
- Yes, no problem, my brother works there, only in the head office on Mars. I will arrange for you a decent discount, - Leo said this in the most everyday tone, as if it was a trivial service for a friend, but still a slight hint of voice was preserved.
“How can I help you?”
- It is considered. First go to the “DreamLand”, they are not wizards there either, all of a sudden they will be able to do nothing.
“Some kind of strange proposal, but, apparently, we are talking about some kind of informal contacts that it is desirable to hide from prying eyes - concluded Denis. “Well, in the end, I have nothing to lose, I’ll look into this rotten Martian desk.”
- Well, I’ll come back the other day, if the time is up, - just as outwardly it makes no difference, but Denis agreed with a slight hint in his voice.
- That's great. And now please welcome to the wonderful world of augmented reality, since a normal virtual world is not available to you.
This time there were no theatrical effects, a huge hologram unfolded almost instantly, closing the available review. In the hologram, Denis was sitting on a chair in the same pose, a little behind everyone. The console control your avatar appeared on the left. He automatically tried to look behind his back, the image immediately grew dull and jerky. Leo, oddly enough, also decided to confine himself to a simple hologram, Denis could only assume that the doctor was worried about his condition.
Their eyes presented a picture of a secret underground bunker, where they conduct forbidden experiments on people. Solid metal and concrete, gray uneven walls, the roar of powerful fans, dim fluorescent lights under the ceiling. The room at the moment seemed abandoned, huge autoclaves no longer worked. Their insides, cleaned and washed clean, with an interlacing of bowel-like tubes and hoses, shamelessly peeking through the translucent doors. Now they were located almost in the center of the room, next to computer terminals and holographic projectors, which at the moment were displaying some kind of schemes, graphs and diagrams, as well as a model of a combat cybernetic system, that is, a super soldier. For Denis, it was a hologram in a hologram, for those who used full immersion, the impression was probably somewhat different.Super-soldiers, I must say, this very impression was made by its very pumped up and militant appearance.
The opposite side of the hall, fenced off by barbed wire under high voltage, smoothly passed into gloomy caves, in the depths of which were built chambers taken with steel rods as thick as a human hand. From there came a muffled, but still chilling soul roar. Most likely, there were samples of super-soldiers who did not go into the series. All these gloomy dungeons could hardly be taken at face value, but it seemed to Denis that such mockery of his own project was not to the face of a serious Martian corporation.
Of the staff of the Institute, another person was present, short in size, in a white coat, draped over his shoulders, neat and taut; with his right hand he rather casually handled numerous holograms and spoke about something animatedly. He had blond hair and gray attentive eyes. One strand of hair was replaced by a bundle of light guide filaments. “Our top chip developer,” this is a flattering explanation from Leo in a low voice. However, it was unnecessary: ​​Maxim, that was the name of the developer, having caught sight of Denis, interrupted his story and almost yelled with a joyful cry, stopped literally at the last moment, apparently read the explanation of the system that Denis is present in their full immersion Only in the form of an avatar.
- Dan, is it really you? I never expected to meet you here.
- Mutually. You said that you work for Telecom, but it seems that it was about the Martian office.
“I had to return for the duration of the project,” Max replied evasively.
- Long time we have not seen.
- Yes, maybe five years, - Maxim uncertainly stopped, as it turned out, they have nothing to say to each other.
- And you have changed a lot, Max, you found a good job and you look good ...
- But you, Dan, have not changed at all, in fact, people can change in five years, find a new job there ...
- Do you know? - Leo finally recovered from the new shock. - However, a stupid question. You do not stop surprising me.
“We studied in the same school,” Denis explained.
- Oh, what are you, - Anton immediately got into the conversation, the situation seemed to amuse him greatly, - Denis is a mystery man in general, an antique neurochip is something else. Is it not clear that they are bound by long and reverent relationships, so if we find out the details of this relationship, then we probably will not be so surprised ...
- Colleagues, - Lapin with a decisive gesture removed his giggling deputy, - Maxim was going to finish his story, and then we so lost a lot of time.
- Ok, then we'll talk, - Max uncertainly went to his old place
The subsequent story turned out to be somewhat crumpled, the speaker began to “hang out” sometimes, as if he was thinking about something of his own, but still it was interesting. Since Denis from the materials provided by SRI RSAD for acquaintance, mastered only the table of contents, he learned a lot from this story for himself. Of course, Max did not give out any special secrets, but he spoke quite simply and with great knowledge of the matter. It followed from his words that many such projects in the past ended in complete or partial failure due to an incorrect initial concept. The predecessors of the Research Institute of the Russian Academy of Arbitration Studies, enthusiastic about the possibilities of cloning and genetic modifications, constantly tried to rivet an army of monsters that looked like orcs, or werewolves, or some other dubious characters. Nothing worthwhile came of it: for that rather long term,which was required for the maturation of individuals (at least ten years old, and it is still unknown how many failed experiments), the project managed to lose its relevance. In the sick imagination of some "cybernetic" born and more daring experiments to create completely unreasonable individuals who are ready to go into battle immediately after hatching from the carcasses of the infected population, but they should rather be classified as biological weapons. The divisions of ghosts who fought for their homeland and the emperor were mentioned as one of the few projects brought to mind, but he also received a disappointing verdict: “Yes, interesting, exotic, but does not represent special value for study. And besides, - here Max frowned in disgust, - all this is extremely immoral, and combat effectiveness has not been proven. ” Then Denis suddenly realized that he was attractive, in quotes,interior design is not a mockery of its own organization, but of its less successful predecessors.
I wonder if the others appreciated these curious nuances? Denis sat behind everyone and could easily see the reaction of everyone. The chief seemed to be bored, with his impressive chin propped up with a plump hand, he was rather indifferently staring around, the twins conscientiously listened to every word, sometimes they clarified something and nodded their heads amicably after appropriate explanations. Anton, of course, tried with all his might to show that he, unlike some, studied the materials thoroughly and constantly interrupted the speaker with remarks like: “Ah, that’s what it is, he couldn’t figure out exactly how the nanobots are involved in tissue regeneration, In your remarkable manual, this question, in my opinion, is not fully covered. ” At first, Max tried very gently to explain to Anton that he was slightly mistaken or reduced everything to a dilettante-primitive level.and then became just agree with him. Denis literally skin felt mocking smile on the face of Leo.
The main idea and feature of the RSAI Research Institute project was that all the work was carried out with experienced professional soldiers. The interested organization selected the best employees from the ranks of its own security service, preferably in good physical shape and not older than thirty years, and for about two months transferred them to the care of the scientific research institute. After a complex of surgeries, ordinary soldiers turned into super-soldiers. The procedure had no effect on the mental abilities of future super-soldiers, and was even partly reversible. Such a system, of course, had its drawbacks. Anyway, the man did not turn into a terminator. As explained by Max, although the soldiers and the most important component of the system, but without other components: unmanned modules, "smart" weapons and armor - they should not fight.Only the fusion of man and technology made the system truly deadly. It was clear that the purpose of the system was, above all, pinpoint special operations, and not a breakthrough of the Mannerheim lines. Yes, and such a soldier could be mistaken and fear. However, if Denis correctly interpreted some vague hints, then at the request of the client it was possible to make changes to the basic design: to take away the super-soldier’s fear, doubts and ability to discuss orders.
- Well, Maxim, - Leo could not stand it, apparently, he was limited in time, - I think we understood the main idea. Nobody mind if we proceed to the demonstration of a tactical simulator?
There were low-key cries of approval.
- Maxim, you are free.
Max politely said goodbye and hurried to disappear from the hologram. The doctor immediately joined the others in their complete immersion, and in a very strange way, which only Denis could appreciate. His hologram suddenly curved, dull and shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow, towards Leo, like a giant hungry amoeba, and separating the quivering translucent image from the body, completely absorbed everything in itself, leaving only the shell with empty eyes in the chair. For everyone else, of course, nothing unusual happened, Leo just got up from his seat and walked to the place where Max used to stand. He turned and looked at Denis with a cold grin.
Computer models of super-soldiers, completely devoid of the instinct of self-preservation, hung from head to toe with machine-gun belts and chained in black armor, stormed high-rise buildings, bunkers and underground shelters. They demonstrated space battles, planetary battles, night battles, when only bright trails of flying bullets are visible. The soldiers fled through the plasma fire, through the rows of enemy tanks and infantry, through minefields and burning cities, fled, not knowing fear and defeat in the vast tactical simulator.
- Dan, are you not very busy?
Unnoticed, Max picked up one of the empty chairs and sat down beside him.
- It seems no.
Denis tried to minimize the hologram to a small window, but someone forgot to add this option to the network application. In the end, he simply closed the connection via the tablet, sending a message to Leo so that the local ambulance would not come to him again.
“You know, I couldn’t even reduce this hologram of yours — typical telecom unceremoniousness,” he complained to Max.
- Is it different in INKIS?
- No, maybe even worse: we have old networks.
“Dan, you haven't changed at all.”
- What did I say that?
- Nothing special, you have always had such a healthy criticism of your own organization. How are you still holding up there?
- So I hold on, the work she is work, will not run away into the woods. Do you have something differently arranged?
Max responded with a mocking snort.
- Of course, in a different way. Martian corporations are not work, it is a way of life. We love the native syndicate and are faithful to him until his death.
- Do you sing hymns in the morning?
- No, we do not sing hymns, although I am sure: many would not mind. Everything is different here, Dan: his social circle, his schools for children, his shops, separate residential areas. His closed world, which is almost impossible to get into from the street, but I managed.
- Well, congratulations, but why did you suddenly descend from your telecom Olympus to simple Russian hard workers?
- I do not forget old friends.
- Then maybe you will attach an old friend to a warm place in Telecom?
- Are you sure that you want it?
- Do you have to sign blood, do not eat pork on Saturdays? If anything, I am ready and I can sing hymns.
- Much worse, for this work you are paying with yourself and your memories. You will have to voluntarily forget yourself and your past, otherwise the system will reject you. To become your own, you have to turn inside out. In principle, I wanted to do this: start a new life on Mars, and shove all this stupid, sloven Russian past away into a dusty closet. I was so bored by our country, everything seems to be arranged here in one place, in order to interfere with any rational activity. I thought a new life awaits me on Mars.
- Bro, do not bother, I was joking about the work. Look, the new life has disappointed you?
- No, why, I got what I wanted.
But Max’s eyes with these words were sad-sad. “I stayed in this fucking Telecom for half a day, but he already managed to get me,” thought Denis, “nothing can be said directly. Everyone takes a hidden camera. What an ass to show these curious freaks. "
Outside, the park quietly sank into twilight. In the conference room appeared younger comrades of the robot garcon - robots sweepers. They began to write out mathematically correct spirals around the interior, with a low growl, apparently cleaning brought them a lot of joy.
- Listen, Max, and the truth is talked about these ... tests for loyalty, well, when some programs are put on the chip that check all your conversations and actions on keywords and subjects, so that you don’t dare to substitute the organization, or too much ...
- True, the security service has a special department that writes such programs and selectively scans the records. One joy: officially, this structure is absolutely independent, no, not even the most important official of Telecom has the right to watch their files.
- Officially, but really?
- It seems also.
- And if you are in a foreign network, or in general there is no network, then how are they checking you?
- We are implanted with an additional memory module, which writes all the data entering your brain, and then automatically transfers them to the first section.
- And if you, for example, retired with a chick, do they also record everything?
- Be sure to carefully record, check and then the whole crowd watching and laughing.
- Sucks must be? - Denis asked with simulated sympathy.
- No normal! Do you care so much ?! You saw these, I do not know what to call them, the monsters from the first section of alcohol, they swim there in their banks ... but I don’t care what they are looking at.
Immediately, the two cleaning robots stopped, interestedly rotating cameras mounted on long flexible trunks. One stopped right next to Max, faithfully trying to look into the eyes, Max irritably kicked him, aiming at the camera, naturally did not hit: the tentacle with a soft buzz pulled back into the body, and the robot, out of harm's way, went to namyvat elsewhere.
- I do not care, I realized, even if anyone, even Schultz, climbs into my personal life. He, the brute, everywhere is sticking his long nose, I don't care, but I get paid a lot of money! Enough for an expensive car, apartment, yacht, house on the Cote d'Azur, everything is enough. I have ten times more money than you, I understand.
“I have no doubt that the last guard is paid more than me.” What have you got? - Denis was a little taken aback.
There was an awkward pause. Tension in the air perceptibly hung in the air, it was like mercury flowing down to the floor, gathering in a fixed glossy mirror of heavy metal. Poisonous fumes from him gradually enveloped the interlocutors. It became so quiet that the murmur of the stream was heard at dusk of the park outside the window.
- And what about Masha, you haven't gotten married yet? You didn't even invite me to the wedding.
- Masha? What ... well, Masha, no, we broke up, Dan.
There was another pause.
- What, do not even ask, how am I doing? - Denis broke the silence.
- So, how are you?
“Yes, you won’t believe everything is bad,” Denis began with readiness. - A hundred times worse than you. Not only my career, and maybe even life hang in the balance because of my new boss.
- Who is he?
- Andrey Arumov, the new chief of the Moscow security service, heard something about him?
“I haven’t heard anything good about him, Dan, seriously.” Stay away from him.
- It is easy to say, stay away, he sat down through two offices from me. And from whom did you find out about him?
Max hesitated a little.
- From Leo including.
- Yes, your Schulz is doing some dark things with the INCIS. And who is he, chief?
- Yeah, sorry, Dan, but about Leo, I can not really spread. He won't like it. What are your problems with Arumov, is he going to fire you?
- Not really. This, of course, is slander and slander, but he believes that I am somehow connected with the affairs of the former chief. It was recently quite sensational, in narrow circles, of course, the case of the detention of a gang of smugglers within the INKIS security service.
“Dan, you're talking so calmly about this,” Max’s face expressed sincere concern, “why are you still in Moscow?” I am not joking about Arumov, crushing a man for him is like a cockroach, he will stop at nothing.
- Where do these curious personal assessments come from, do you know him?
- No, I do not burn with desire. Dan, let me attach you to Telecom, somewhere far away from here. The organization will hide you. You will be given a new life.
- Wow, you have risen well up the career ladder, since you can make such offers on behalf of the organization.
- On the contrary, my career is now rather in a recession, to be honest, I am practically in exile here. But I have one friend in the leadership, or rather he was my friend ... In short, for his level, this is nothing and he will not refuse.
- You still shouted with this Schultz, congratulations.
- Leo has nothing to do with it, with him we are just not friends. Dan, let me get in touch today about this. I can't talk about it either, but I have some confidential information about Arumov. If you somehow crossed his path, you can not stay in Moscow. You need to hide and hide very well. He is a crazy fanatic with tremendous power.
- I can not work in Telecom.
- You implant a normal chip at the expense of the company, if you are talking about it.
- That's exactly why I can not.
- Dan, what a kindergarten, you are in mortal danger, and you all play in your adolescent non-conformism. When we were in school, it was cool, but now ... it's time to make a choice. You will not get away from the system, it will still have everyone.
“It doesn't seem like Max is just showing off with his proposal,” thought Dan. - Maybe this is fate: a strange, almost unbelievable meeting with an old friend. What have I achieved in the previous thirty years? Nothing, so it's silly to turn up the nose from such gifts. Fate gives me a chance to live a normal life: get a decent job, start a family, children. No, I, of course, will not turn this world over, but I will be happy. ” The ghost of the evenings by the fireplace, filled with children's laughter, beckoned him from a beautiful far, where everything was planned and painted half a century ahead. And from this hope for a simple, happy life on him so rolled, that already sank into the chest. I have to agree, Dan thought, growing cold, but his lips, practically against his will, uttered something quite different:
I will dial you as soon as I think of something.
- Do not pull with it, please.
- Ok, I can sort it out myself.
- With Arumov you will not understand, believe me.
- We drove, Max. How are your super-soldiers doing, will they show us today or not?
- Probably, they won't show it.
- Seriously, Lapin will be delighted, there will be a reason not to sign anything.
- Because of you, by the way. Soon Leo will announce that we will not be able to demonstrate the super-soldier due to technical problems, such as they are all on routine maintenance. But the real reason is that Leo does not want to show them to a person without cosmetic programs.
- Any problems with their appearance? But what about all that you sang about the social responsibility of Telecom five minutes ago?
“We all sometimes do what we are told to do.” Some problems with their appearance, of course. All these tales about the fact that our cyber-freaks normally socialize, just a fairy tale. More precisely, it is a fairy tale make expensive cosmetic programs. Without them, from our poor super-soldiers, everyone will shy away. Well, with the continuation of the kind, they, too, will not work. I fucking sincerely hope that they will not choose family guys.
- Still, your house on the Cote d'Azur has certain costs.
- This is not my project, I just stuffed here to clarify the situation. And so, of course, yes, don't care that this particular scientific research institute disfigures people for the sake of their vested interests, and those who want to do this will be found in any case. I just dreamed that I would use my talents more profitably: for example, to create new types of controlled retroviruses. A very promising area of ​​research, with them people may even cease to grow old and get sick.
- Well, your retroviruses can find different uses.
- So Yes. And you want to look at them, but not for the protocol, of course?
- To a super soldier? And Schultz does not suit you ein tsv for such amateur?
- No, the main thing is that it does not officially appear anywhere. All the really important people in the project have been in the know for a long time; this is not such a secret either. I do not really understand why he was scared there: maybe he does not want to injure the tender psyche of our cyber-killers. Someone will see them without make-up and they are disarmed, they will not sleep well, I don’t know. In short, do not chat to anyone and everything.
- I am not a talker. Show me.
- Then I ask for me.
Max walked forward with wide, confident steps. Denis constantly looked around and unconsciously tried to keep close to the wall. After they had crossed a long passage from an office building to another building and began to descend into real telecom dungeons, he immediately felt insecure. They took him too far away, there was nothing to think about to get back on their own. For the person sent to the link, Max very confidently passed through the automatic control points, and even with an outsider. First, they descended into the ground on a single elevator and passed through a steel hermetic gate with an orange stripe. Several more corridors passed, descended on another elevator to the door with a yellow stripe. They passed several scanning devices, then moved along a long white wall two floors high. As Max explained,behind it are high-class cleanrooms where molecular chips are grown. The descent was on one elevator and they were in front of the gate with a green stripe, but this time in front of it, behind a transparent partition, there were two armed guards. Under the ceiling, a remote-controlled gun rotated a pack of ten barrels.
“Wow, Petrovich,” Max greeted the elder. - Here the customer from INCIS came to admire our SS men.
“That's what you call them,” Denis chuckled.
“Actually, they already came from their office, there was such a stupid bald uncle here,” Petrovich answered uncertainly, “and you seem to have just concocted the application.”
“But I can escort guests to the green zone.”
- You can, of course, but let me dial your main thing. No offense, Max.
- No problem, dial.
Max took Denis aside.
“Leo will call,” he explained, “they can turn us around, but nothing, but they walked.”
“Aha, they walked - it’s super, but if I’m being hauled here from all the trunks, this will be annoying,” Denis replied, nodding at the gun under the ceiling.
- Do not worry, she seems to be shooting some kind of paralyzing bullets.
- And then there is nothing to worry about.
Five minutes later, Petrovich called them and spread his hands guiltily:
- Your boss does not answer.
- What is he so busy doing so, - Max was surprised. - Look, of course, but with the customer it is necessary more politely, and then the contract will be broken, and we all will get it.
“Now, even with the shift commander, I will grind ... Okay, go,” Petrovich said in another minute, “only, Max, do not expose me.”
- Do not worry, we have one eye and immediately back.
The gate with the green stripe swung open silently. Behind them was a hefty room with rows of lockers along the walls. Immediately before Denis's nose, a formidable warning appeared: “Attention! You enter the green zone. The movement of visitors in the green zone without being categorically prohibited. Violators will be immediately detained. ”
- Hey, Susanin, they promise to lay me here on the floor.
- The main thing - do not stick your nose where it is not necessary. And do not try to turn off the chip.
- I, perhaps, take off the lenses and headphones, but I will not turn off anything. I want to look at your handsome without makeup.
Denis gently hid the lens in a jar of water.
- Put on the suit, Dan, next is a clean zone.
After another small room, where they had to endure a cleansing aerosol shower, they finally had access to the secrets of Telecom. Further path lay through a shaded tunnel. A greenish light coming straight out of the walls, slowly flared up only ten to twenty meters in front of them, snatching small insect-like robots out of the gloom, the interweaving of some annular tubes and hoses. A small monorail walked along the ceiling, a couple of times over their heads sailed transparent sarcophagi, within which frozen faces and bodies floated. On the bodies in the sarcophagi, too, robots resembling octopuses and jellyfish were swarming. Sometimes there were windows in the wall. Denis looked into one of them: he saw a spacious operating room. In the center was a swimming pool filled with something like thick jelly. In it a gutted body swam,from which was a whole web of tubes to the equipment nearby. Above the pool there hung a robot-vivisector, which had emerged from nightmares, looking like a huge octopus. He cut and shred something inside the insensible organism. A laser beam flashed, at the same time a dozen tentacles with clamps, dispensers and micromanipulators dived deep into the body, they quickly did something and popped up again, the laser flashed again. Doctors apparently managed the operation remotely, in the room there was only one person in a deaf overalls with a mask on his face. He just watched the process. There was another sarcophagus standing by the wall, waiting for its turn. Max pushed his companion forward and asked not to open his mouth. Next nasty clicked and tapped with small metal paws insect robots. Out of the whole situation, they most of all strained Denis.It didn’t leave the impression that insidious cars gather in a flock in the greenish twilight behind them to suddenly roll in from all sides, stick sharp steel legs in soft flesh and drag them into the pool to a viviser robot that will methodically disassemble you into pieces. And you will float in several flasks, brains in one, and guts in the neighborhood.
- What kind of place is it? - Denis asked, trying to distract from the terrible thoughts.
- Automated medical center, here they carry out the most complex operations: they transplant organs, remove cancerous tumors, they can sew a third leg, if you ask, well, our SS men are also collected here. Us to the right.
Denis really didn’t want to enter the side door first, but Max impatiently snuffled from behind. Crouching involuntarily, he stepped inside and sneak a glance upward. The octopus was right there. Comfortably perched on a crane-beam under the ceiling, he busily picked up his mandibles and blinked viciously with a red eye.
- Look, Dan, our mini-army.
Max waved his hand towards the rows of transparent containers, where unusual creatures lay, forgotten by deep lethargic sleep.
- You can take off the vehicle, nobody will see here. I'll take it off too.
Denis stole an unpleasant silicone cloth and walked to the nearest container with stealthy steps. Perhaps it was once a man, but now the creature inside the human remains only general outlines. The humanoid was tall, about two meters, thin and very lean, muscles twined around his body like thick ropes. It looked more like an interlacing of ropes or roots of a tree, but in no way a human body. His skin was glossy black with a metallic sheen, like a polished car body covered with small scales. From a bald head fell a few thick steel whiskers half a meter in length. In some places from the body, the connectors came out. The black, sickle-shaped eyes were dimly reflecting a green light. On the back of his head was a pair of smaller eyes.
- Handsome man, - Denis commented on an unusual sight, - you will meet something like this on the street, you will put it in your pants. And why does he have a mustache on his head and scales?
- This is a vibrissae, such as an organ of touch, in order to catch the fluctuations of the environment, maybe something else is not sure. Scales - additional protection if the armor does not stand.
- You came up with such a monster?
- No, Dan, I did, at the very end I was finishing a couple of chips in the control system. If it is completely honest to say, the whole basic concept is stolen from the imperial ghosts. Everything, approximately, as I said, but the cunning retroviruses perform the main work on turning it into this miracle-yudo, they are slowly redrawing the genotype of the organism under the supervision of specialists. Only in the empire, retroviruses were injected directly into the egg cell, so the baby immediately got out of the autoclave creeping ugly, even more terrible than these. We simply do not have time to wait until they grow up, so the process was slightly refined and sped up. Of course, there is a certain loss of quality, but it will go for our purposes.
- I see you customers hang noodles on the ears.
- Let's just say, the real customer - Arumov knows much more.
- It is clear, and we are the type of small switchmen. There is someone to put up against the wall, if these freaks suddenly go berserk and start barraging.
- No, they will not start baragozit, the control is multistage and very reliable.
“So, if you licked all the ghosts, they also hate the Martians.”
“Yeah, your like-minded people,” Max grinned, “the Martians were driving with development, I think, they took care of the right object of class hatred.”
“How did the secret imperial viruses get to you?” - Denis asked in the most casual tone.
- I am not aware of this ... yes, it’s good to ask such questions, you know less, you will live longer. Let me better wake up a couple of SS men, get to know each other better.
Denis as scalded bounced off the container.
- Uh-uh, let's not. I got to know each other enough, and Schultz was probably there, waiting, swearing bad German words.
- Ok, Dan, do not be afraid. I give a tooth, everything is under control. They have software limitations, in principle they cannot attack or do something without an order.
- Software? I just do not trust the software limitations.
“Stop, they have a control chip in each muscle, it’s enough for me to type a command with the correct code, and they will fall down like a sack of potatoes.”
“A lousy idea after all.” Let's go better.
But Max was already unstoppable, he firmly set out to raise the monsters from the grave purely out of hooligan considerations.
- Five minutes wait. If you are really trying hard, a simple verbal cancellation code is now set up, say “stop”, they are immediately cut off.
- And if he closes his ears, the code will work?
“Everything will work,” Max had already conjured over the second container.
The octopus under the ceiling moved after him and helped to make some injections. Dan was ready to hug the robot as a mother, if only he drove the wrong stick. For some reason, the super-soldiers frightened him to shiver.
- Done.
Max walked away. The two covers slowly rose.
- Here, meet Ruslan - the commander of his own unit of the Scientific-Research Institute of Designation and Design-and-Development. Grieg is an ordinary fighter. This is Denis Kaysanov from INKIS.
Grieg was probably the heftiest of all. A tall, wide-eyed ambalushka, he just stood still, not showing a drop of interest in the world around him. Ruslan was lower, more alive, the interlacing of the ropes on his face seemed to have some meaningful expression: a mixture of insolence and complete detachment with a hint of universal longing in the faceted eyes.
“Hello, Denis Kaysanov, it's nice to meet you,” Ruslan grinned, revealing a number of small sharp teeth, and flowed closer to him.
The movements of the super-soldiers made no less impression than their appearance. Since there was no clothes on them, it was evident how the rope muscles interlaced and breathed like a ball of snakes, pushing the body with great speed and ease. Their joints bent freely in any direction, five meters before the interlocutor Ruslan overcame in one pitch-jump. When moving, rubbing scales made a light rustle. The creature held out a black knotted limb to greet.
“Do not worry, he is completely under control,” Denis tried to calm the trembling in his knees, “do not show him your fear, he probably senses him like a dog.”
“Healthy,” he gently touched the limb and immediately withdrew.
- What are you scared, Denis? - Ruslan asked with a honeyed voice. - We don’t cause harm to civilians.
- Do not pay attention, Ruslan, - casually threw Max, continuing to conjure over Grieg, he sees you without a cosmetic program.
“Max, do not stars, please,” Denis snapped warningly as the facet eyes moved closer and stared at him with increased interest.
- Yes? Why does Denis see me without a program?
“He has a very old chip, or rather not a chip, but only lenses, he took them off,” Max answered ingenuously without turning around.
Two vibrissae, hanging in an arc from his forehead, suddenly touched Denis's face and he felt a weak electrical shock.
- What did you, friend, come to us without a chip? - Ruslan rustled even more in a honeyed voice.
- Ma-ax! - Denis shouted already in his voice. - Cut them down, fucking!
Suddenly, standing by the idol Grieg, Max grabbed a sharp movement, metal mustaches sank into his face. There was an electric crash and Max flew to the floor, squealing heart-rending:
“Dan, my chip went out!” I can not see or hear anything, call a doctor. Dan, slap me on the shoulder, if you hear, - it seems that Max did not understand what happened.
“I would have slapped you, demonstrator fucking,” thought Denis with despair. The seriousness and hopelessness of the situation was obvious. Even if help came to the chip that came out as quickly as it had previously done to him, then what would they do with the furious monsters. What will help them Petrovich with paralyzing bullets.
Max continued to shout and blindly crawl forward, but quickly buried himself in the wall and, having hit his head painfully, stopped.
- Stop? - uncertainly said Denis.
“The code is not accepted, the highest priority of the operation,” Ruslan grinned even wider. “Your song is sung, Denis Kaysanov.
“Dan,” Max voiced again, “there is a socket on the side of the wall, dial the grid code 3 so that the robot turns off the soldier.”
“Easy to say,” thought Denis, the panel blinked invitingly two meters away from him, but Ruslan put his hand on his shoulder with an elusive movement.
- will you risk it? He asked mockingly.
- Please do not kill, I have children, the chip just broke, but it was strained with insurance. I will soon be putting on a new one, so long as I had to walk so ... you know how uncomfortable, neither to stumble, nor to plow normally ... - Denis crawled, trying to make the enemy understand that resistance is not expected and you can relax. Ruslan grinned and removed his hand.
“It's time to complete the operation,” said Grieg, “as time goes on, we risk.”
- Wait, soldier, I know what I'm doing.
- Accepted.
Ruslan seemed to be a little distracted and Denis decided that there would be no other chance. He squealed like a wounded boar, and kicked Ruslan under his knee, trying to poke him in the eye with his hand, believing that this was the only vulnerable spot of the monster. He almost got into his knee, and his hand, clamped with steel tongs, was turned up to a crunch, forcing him to settle on the floor. Nevertheless, the octopus at the top still became interested in what was happening and pulled tentacles with syringes towards the soldiers. “Bro,” thought Denis through a red haze, “I was so wrong with you, come on, bro.” Unfortunately, the forces were too unequal, the tentacles torn out with the meat flew into the corner of the room and remained there unable to cross over the floor powerlessly. Grieg jumped, clinging to the ceiling beam like a giant spider, sang the air and whistled from his movements. The robot, ripped off the mounts, flew to the opposite corner,spinning like tumbleweeds and scattering wiring with cogs.
“Dan, what is happening, you are still here, slap me on the shoulder,” Max screamed again, apparently sensing the vibrations of the walls from the colossus imprinted on them.
“They will end up on the march, you are a fuckin 'from the jail,” Denis did not leave any attempts to escape, but he felt that he was losing consciousness, since his hand had long held on his word of honor. - How is it, because nothing foreshadowed, I sat, tried about that and that, he ate whiskey and sausage. The devil pulled me to look at these freaks. How stupid it all happened. It would have been better for Arumov to grab me, although some logic would have been ... ”
- I will ask one question, Denis Kaysanov, if you answer, you are free ... Tell me, what can change human nature?
Ruslan squatted down and moved very close, so that Denis felt his even cool breath, he understood that he had only a few seconds left to live.
- Fuck you, kiss a Martian ass who answers your fucking questions. He will tell you that you are nobody, an unsuccessful experiment, you will die in a gutter ...
- Gustav Kilby.
- What? - Denis was taken aback, already prepared to ascend to heaven.
- Gustav Kilby, that is the name of the Martian who knows the correct answer. When you meet him, be sure to ask what can change the nature of man.
“Commander, it's time to complete the operation, we are pulling too much,” said Grieg, who did not tolerate objections.
- Of course, fighter.
Ruslan with force pushed Denis to the floor. The black shadow darted forward, there was a dull thud and a hideous crunch. Grieg's body huddled on the floor with a torn throat, a puddle of thick black blood with a strange smell of some medicine poured from the wound.
Max, having lost hope for the help of his friend, stood up, carefully holding the wall, and sauntered along the perimeter, hoping to find a way out.
- Tell me, Denis Kaysanov: do you hate martians? - Ruslan asked in the same honeyed voice, brushing off the blood from his fingers.
- I hate it, so what? Im up to the lantern my hate.
- No, we are obliged to kill people without chips and it is much deeper than the usual firmware. So, in someone there is a hidden threat.
“You think she’s in me, I'm sorry, they forgot to tell me about it.”
- It does not matter, no one will guess where the thread of life will lead and where it will break. The ghosts are talking to me, they promised that I would soon meet the true enemy.
“Dan,” Max shouted, “it seems my chip comes to life.”
“Max is also part of the system,” Ruslan murmured, “he cannot be trusted, nobody can be trusted.” You will be all alone, no one will help you, everyone will betray you, and whoever does not betray will die, and you will not receive anything as a reward if you can win. All the roads that promise benefits are a lie to bring down with the only true one. You will be alone against the whole system, but you are our last hope. Don't forget to find Gustav Kilby. Good luck in your hopeless struggle.
- Thank you, of course, for the offer to fight the whole world, but I, perhaps, will find a simpler option for myself.
- I looked into your soul, Denis Kaysanov. You will fight.
Ruslan happily grinned and reached back into the container. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the ceiling with the most innocent look. Max ran up behind him, he had not yet completely recovered, so he began to cut stupid circles around Ruslan lying, while lamenting:
“Dan, why the hell happened here.” I shouted why you did not call for help? Who raskhrenachil robot ... E-mine, but with Grieg what happened!?
- That is what happened, Max: you telekomovskie botanists cool plowed with your soldiers.
“Ruslan, immediately report what happened here,” Max demanded hysterically.
- Private Grieg was out of control, I had to neutralize him. The causes of the accident are unknown. Report completed.
- Max, stop stupid, call already help, - Denis advised.
- Now.
Max shot out into the corridor. Denis, having spat on any caution, leaned over to lying Ruslan and hissed:
“Okay, let me be the enemy, but why didn't you kill me?” If you have such a program - kill people without chips.
- I left free will.
- Why such a shit like you, free will?
- Because I have to suffer, and only the one who has free will can suffer.
Denis followed Max into the corridor. No less worrying about the cleanliness of the premises, he took out a cigarette and flicked a lighter. The hands were still shaking, the dislocated right still sighed noticeably. “Right now, it would not hurt a whisper to hryapnut. A couple of glasses, he thought. A crowd of people, headed by Max, was already rushing towards the crowd, Denis pressed himself against the wall so that he would not be torn down, and the small robot cracked in an offended way under his foot.
Denis refused medical assistance. His only desire was to leave the nightmarish scientific research institute as soon as possible, stuffed with ruthless murderers, ready to hesitate to tear off any head that was not burdened with electronics. When he returned to the conference room, Leo had already agreed with Lapin that the protocol would be signed a little later. All kept complete equanimity, as if nothing had happened. Max got lost somewhere, apparently, he smelled his joint. Denis, too, did not fool a fever. Only when they were waiting for a helicopter on the landing in front of the main building, Leo quietly took Denis by the elbow and took him aside.
- Denis, I hope you accept the deepest apologies on behalf of our organization and from me personally for what happened. This is a ridiculous accident, Grieg was out of control, the measures have already been taken.
- Yes, think, anything can happen. But this is no accident, Grieg acted strictly in accordance with your firmware.
- Dan, please, let's not keep any personal insults. Yes, Max is a rare idiot, he should have read the secret instructions before dragging his school friends to gawk at the super soldier.
- Secret? That is, in the usual instructions this is not.
- You understand that in less or less accessible documents such things are not written.
- Wouldn't the guys without chips appreciate it?
- Secret bookmarks in the system will have a bad effect on sales. More precisely, this is not even a bookmark, but ..., but Dan, believe me, this is not at all directed against you. In our time, to meet a person without a chip is an unbelievable rarity, and so that he suddenly finds himself where it is not necessary, it’s just beyond the limits.
- Not directed? And when they are released to frolic, you scribble me on soap?
“You will never meet them again.” In INKIS they will not be allowed to come to you, I promise. You have no idea how conservative the Martian leadership can be. If there is some mossy order a hundred years ago, they will surely stick it everywhere.
“Well, now it’s clear that it’s all about the moss-covered Martian bureaucracy.
- Dan, let's be reasonable people. What will change if you start screaming at every corner as Telecom grows killers in the dungeons? Are you hoping to break the game of a serious Martian corporation? It will be worse for everyone, and they will start to take you for a city madman.
- Everyone says so when they want to hide something.
- Well, in principle, yes, but on the other hand they often correctly say. By the way, the proposal that Max made is quite valid. I am also ready to support him. You will get a good chip and any professional courses of your choice at the expense of the office, in order to avoid repeated cases, so to speak. You can not even stay in Telecom, go wherever you want. Such a proposal should suit everyone.
- I'll think about it.
“All the roads that promise benefits are lies, in order to bring down the only right one,” Denis recalled, “ugh, there’s not enough to believe in the fables of this monster. Let yourself suffer without me. "
- If something does not suit you, do not hesitate, speak. We will certainly meet reasonable wishes.
- Let's count, Leo.
- So, agreed?
- Well, almost ... What can I say to Lapin and the rest?
- Nothing to say. You chatted with a schoolmate, he drove you to show your workplace. And yet, you have never seen any super-soldiers. Pro arm, if that: fell there, slipped.
- She practically does not hurt.
“That's great,” Leo allowed himself a wide, sociable smile. - Go to the "DreamLand", as defined.
- Wait, one little question: why did you turn so strangely into total immersion, - Denis suddenly remembered.
- Not understood?
- Remember when you joined the others in total immersion after our incredibly interesting conversation about phobias and the fate of humanity. It looked like you were sucked into virtual reality, and only I could see it.
- You still put your head? Do you really want to see a doctor? - Leo's eyebrow arched. - I don’t really imagine what you are trying to say, but I think I got so confused and made a script in three seconds in order to pin up you.
- Well, you still turned around and looked at me ..., - Denis answered uncertainly. - I do not know, maybe you have a special option in all the programs: to scare a vagabond neurophobe.
- Take a day off, my advice to you.
“Sure,” Denis waved his hand in frustration.
It would seem that the mood is so complete ass, he has nowhere to spoil. But still, like a cold shadow touched her face. The choice is sad: either the glitches began, or a hungry amoeba lurked in the bushes. "Either Hans Hochmit until it stops, we’ll dwell on this option," decided Denis.
A cool autumn evening wrapped its wing in park vegetation, forcing the animated shadows of telekomovsky nightmares to dance around a small lighted patch of land. Knotty monsters, steel octopuses and hungry amoebas - everything mixed up in the traitorous light of lanterns. There was a rumble of an approaching helicopter.
All the way back Lapin spilled a nightingale about how great my friend Dan spoke at the talks. Anton, watching this scene, even somehow turned sour. Denis smiled through power.
“It’s great that you set me up, Max,” he thought, “I didn’t have much of Arumov, not only did I almost crash, so I’ve gotten into the intimate secrets of one of the most powerful Martian corporations. They will not leave me so easy to roam the world with a bag of their dirty laundry. It will not be possible to lure chips and courses, they will decide the issue somehow differently. And he, of course, is good: well, why the heck should I go wherever they don’t ask. Of course, I wanted to take a look at the super-soldier. I’d better go to the zoo, I looked at the elephant, an idiot. ” And it was completely uncomfortable to become aware of the fact that the program for killing people without chips was sewn to all super-soldiers. Maybe she is not directed specifically against him, but prepared her, for example, against the Eastern Bloc. But if some kind of lieutenantly accidentally crushed under the rink, no one will cry either.It was unpleasant to be aware of himself as a pathetic, defenseless bug, which would be trampled upon in a big game of corporations.
The helicopter, raising a cloud of dry garbage, plopped onto the roof of the INCIS.
- Are you coming, Dan? Asked Lapin.
- No, I'll stand still, breathe air. It was a hard day.
- Let's see you tomorrow. I will definitely note your special role in the negotiations.
- Yes, do not worry, until tomorrow.
When the colleagues faded, Denis again went to the very edge and fearlessly stood on the parapet. The view from this side was rather unpleasant: abandoned areas, fenced off by stone blocks and coils of barbed wire. Although no one officially lived there, a lot of all kinds of gangsters, drug addicts and homeless people lived, and they were not necessarily people, because with the development of high technologies, it became so easy to lose human appearance. Bosses, like Leo Schulz, paid for all sorts of useful mutations and implants, for long life and absolute health a lot of money. Some did not pay anything, but they still received these improvements. We must first try them on "volunteers." If you listen, from the slums sometimes came the melancholy howl, from which blood ran cold in the veins. And during the construction of the institute, this area is probablylooked quite decent. Maybe astronauts even lived here with their families, while the dream of a man flying to the stars was alive.
Along the debris and fences, whimsically bending, two ribbons of the railway stretched, along one of them the electric train crawled slowly. She seemed to be going very close. Denis could hear the clang of old mechanisms and the ringing, knocking of wheels, long heard in his ears, when the train had already turned into a hazy haze on the horizon. He could almost see the faces of the people sitting inside, or rather, he just knew what these faces should be: gloomy, tired, staring sadly at the dull surroundings. For some reason, Denis envied these not-so-happy people who could just sit by the window in an uncomfortable noisy car and not think about anything. Looking at endless rusty warehouses, pipes, pillars sailing past, broken roads and abandoned factories that have long been useless to no one. Sooner or later, this dying urban landscape will be replaced by another. By that time,as the train leaves the suburbs of Moscow, only a couple of people will remain in the car, sleeping or reading the tabloid press in different corners. And then in general there will be no one left, and Denis will go alone. He most recently will jump on a nameless broken platform made of old concrete, which crumbles underfoot. Look after the departing train chain, look at the dense forest, listen to his conversation with the light wind and go where his eyes are looking. And at the end of the way, he will surely find what he was looking for; it’s a pity that for the time being Denis himself didn’t know what he wanted to find.look at the dense forest, listen to his conversation with a light wind and go where his eyes are looking. And at the end of the way, he will surely find what he was looking for; it’s a pity that for the time being Denis himself didn’t know what he wanted to find.look at the dense forest, listen to his conversation with a light wind and go where his eyes are looking. And at the end of the way, he will surely find what he was looking for; it’s a pity that for the time being Denis himself didn’t know what he wanted to find.
- Hi, Helen. How are you?
Denis carefully sat on the edge of the table in front of Arumov’s secretary, perfumed and rounded, in a fashionable blouse and skirt on the verge of decency, wrapping her outstanding artificial forms. Although if an unbiased approach is taken, then the artificiality of its forms was evident only to those who had been familiar with it for a very long time, for example, from school, like Dan. Her informal responsibilities with respect to the leadership, in addition to the final entanglement of the already not ideal orders of this leadership, were no secret to anyone. At one time, Denis even tried to suck up to her: he wore flowers and chocolates, hoping to somehow improve the shaky career situation, but he realized that it looked pathetic, and tied it up.
“My business is fine,” Lena tried to gently shove Denis off the table, so as not to damage the drying varnish, “but yours don't seem to be very good.” What did you manage to do?
- Arumov not in the spirit?
- Just kapets, and obviously it is somehow connected with you.
- Well, come on, can you come to him first, take off the tension?
- Very funny, - Helen has curled up a haughty physiognomy, - let me remove the tension as a whipping boy today. I will not go to him anymore.
- What, everything is so bad?
- Yes, really kapets, you listen to what I say.
- Well, at least a word for me to say.
- No, Denchik, not this time. You know, I don’t really like it when he looks at me SO and is silent, like a fucking fish.
“Yes, it really is rubbish,” thought Denis, “and obviously this is connected with yesterday’s trip to this fucking institute.”
- Come on, go already. I had to send you right away, and not to chatter here ...
- Then goodbye, cry when I'm taken to the asteroid belt.
- Oh, Denchik, not funny at all.
“Oh, Lenochka,” thought Denis, “stupid, of course, but beautiful ... you had to take a chance and press you somewhere in a dark corner, it’s still like dying.”
Arumov, as it should be, collapsed imposingly in a black leather chair and did not deign to enter even a nod. Near the huge T-shaped table with a green stripe in the middle there was only one chair, low and uncomfortable. Denis had to choose from the chairs along the wall. He thought for a moment whether it was not worth annoying Arumov and sit down at the stenochka, as in the queue at the clinic, but decided that it was not worth it. It is enough that he dared to choose a piece of furniture that was not intended for him.
The silence was dragging on, worse than that, Arumov, without constraint, gazed at his subordinate gaze and grinned nastily. Dan tried to meet his gaze, but did not even extend two seconds. No one could stand this unblinking lifeless gaze.
- called, comrade colonel? - Denis gave up.
And again, the silence. “This is a reptile, he knows that waiting is worse than the execution itself,” thought Dan, but again he could not stand it.
- Want to talk?
- talk? - Arumov asked in the most mocking tone. - No, Lieutenant, I was actually going to throw you out of the gate of this institution.
Denis made an incredible effort over himself and looked at the colonel's face, however, diligently avoiding his gaze.
- So can I go?
But the colonel did not deceive his contrivances with his views.
- You will leave after explaining to me why you are not into your business.
- Was that a rhetorical question? What do I do?
- rhetorical ?! - hissed Arumov. - Yes, it was a rhetorical question, if you are not going to get rid of a simple dismissal, then, of course, you can not answer.
“They went almost open threats. Indeed, the matter is rubbish. - Denis feverishly pondered the situation. - What made him so angry. Precisely this torn trip, here Lapin is a reptile! Put in a word before the leadership. Well, surely Lapin or Anton. Both of them, if you squeeze, you will get around this, then you will not wash a century. ”
- There is nothing to look at me with puppy eyes, as if you had nothing to do with it. I had one of your accomplices sweating all morning and my mother swore that this was some kind of lieutenant Kaisanov had somehow “added” with Dr. Schulz to postpone the signing of the meeting protocol and other important documents. - Arumov did not hesitate to confirm the worst concerns about colleagues.
- Other documents?
“Other documents,” mocked Arumov, “and you, I see, didn’t figure out the situation at all before you got there with your lieutenant snout.” The main financial documents are not signed, Schulz does not respond, allegedly went on a business trip. And I had high hopes for this project, and it turns out that everything is breaking down because of you.
- Yes, this can not be. Why the hell would Schultz listen to me ?! If he decided to jump off, then this is his decision.
“So I wonder too, why the hell ... What did you talk to him about ?!”
- Yes, nothing, just booze and tryndeli on absolutely abstract topics.
- You finish the idiot from yourself to build. Speak essentially your mother! - Arumov barked so that the windows shook. “What did you talk to him about?” What do you think, Lieutenant, can you build a hero out of yourself ?! Do you think about your past arts nothing is known? Yes, I know everything about you: what do you live with, who do you fuck with, how many times a week do your mother call to Finland!
Arumov was sold out in earnest, he already went red spots, jumped up from his chair, loomed over Denis and continued yelling directly at his face.
- You, lieutenant, here I have it, in one single daddy! It should be at least send a leaf from this dad where it is necessary, and you will see the sky in the cell for the last time at the cosmodrome! It comes to you, or not! Or you, the nightingale, sing only when you are not asked!
The door opened gently, and Helen cautiously leaned out into the narrow opening, ready to instantly hide back.
- Andrei Vladimirovich, they came from the supply ...
Arumov fixed his absolutely insane look on her.
“Sorry for stopping you, maybe tea, coffee ...” Helen was completely taken aback.
- What the fuck tea, go work.
Helen instantly disappeared, but Arumov seems to have cooled down a bit. Denis carefully wiped sweat from his forehead: “Fuf, it seems he personally will not kill me. I will entrust this business to professional kostomol, but still, Helen, thank you, I will not forget this if I survive. ”
“You know, lieutenant,” Arumov again collapsed imposingly in his chair, “I will tell you one instructive story: about my colleague who loved to go into his own business.” Can you guess how it ended?
- Apparently, it ended badly.
- Yes, bad. And so bad ... no one even expected that it could turn out. In general, about how you.
- Well, my story is not over yet.
Arumov didn’t say anything, he smirked again, nastily, suddenly threw his legs on the table and took out a cigarette.
- Do you smoke?
- Only when I'm nervous. Now something is not desirable.
Arumov grimaced slightly and puffed on his cigarette.
- Well, I had a colleague, let's call him Captain Petrov. He actually did not obey me directly, but still I tried to besiege him sometimes. And then he was all such a hero of himself: an excellent student in combat training, a father to soldiers and a headache for all commanders. He did not want, you see, to submit to the rotten system, and why, one wonders, he went to the officers. And if something happened, he didn’t try to hush up like everyone else, no, he immediately reported upstairs, he wanted everything to be fair. But you understand where the law is, and where justice is. And we have because of his performance fell. In other parts, everything is sewn-covered, but we have now hazing, then fire, then secret documents are gone. In general, not an exemplary military unit, but a circus tent of some kind. Then there was still time, the spirit of freedom was breathing again from somewhere because of the Atlantic puddle.To the stars gathered to fly with these assholes. But it’s okay, our Petrov wasn’t going to fly anywhere, but he still got these bad ideas. Then one day a small such 5-ton container was brought to our unit and ordered to be kept in stock and treasure it, and what’s in the container is not our business. And there are really no documents for him, but such a gray, inconspicuous little man accompanied him, and he said that the container should be lying without documents, nothing dangerous or, God forbid, there is no radioactive inside, but it is forbidden to open it under any circumstances and do not talk about it need to. And after all all clever people understand that gray little men should be obeyed, if they say to keep without documents, then it is necessary to keep. If they say that it is safe, well, it means that it is safe. But Petrov did not believe the gray man.I learned about this container from somewhere and walked around it, sniffed it, dragged various devices, measured the fields. Our commander’s batyu, of course, was pretty nervous about everything, but he didn’t want to expose the fool Petrov and bang on him to gray men. And take the fool Petrov, and the stunt of the district command about this container. And after all, bad luck, gray men do not dedicate anyone to their affairs, even if he is a brigade commander, even if he is a commander of a district, it’s all on the drum. In general, the commission has flown into our part, Dad is straining, dodging, but it cannot be explained what kind of container it is. And the district commander, too, like Petrov, turned out to be: “What kind of gray men” ?! - yelling. - "I am a military officer, I spit them all on my officer's banner"! And orders: "Open the container"! But our officers are all brave guys,if you need to go hand-to-hand on enemy machine guns, but rummaging through the pockets of gray men is an excuse. In general, the district decided to pick up this container. They loaded it, it means, into the trailer and drove it. And the accompanying part of our guesses who was?
- Captain Petrov?
- Captain Petrov, fool miserable. So you in his place would be messing with this damn container.
- Accompany? And that such, he was closed.
- It is closed, only it turns out that they took him away from Petrov, and he was with him the longest. You know, I wouldn’t have approached such a kilometer, there was something strange in it that everyone with a survival instinct didn’t shrink completely, bypassing it in a kilometer arc. Even the guard patrol routes were changed, and for that you can get a great deal. So, our captain took the container, and everyone seemed to forget about him. I don’t know how the district dealt with it there, but everyone was behind us. Only now the captain has become somehow stuck. He walks like a boiled one, circles under his eyes, quarreled with his wife, and then he somehow sat down with us to plump, get drunk, which means he began to weave this. We already thought everything, the roof of our Petrov had left. He says I did not enter the container, I didn’t even touch him, but now I only dream about it every night. Every night saysI walk up to the warehouse and see that the container is open, and I feel that someone is looking at me from there and waiting for me to come. And I do not seem to want to go, but pulls me there. I stand, I look at an open container, and there is an empty warehouse around, and I know that nobody is around for hundreds of kilometers, only me and the fact that he lives in a container. And I also understand that this is a dream, but I know for sure that if I go into the container, I will not go back, either in a dream or in reality. And, he says, he used to dream about this container for five minutes a week, and still he would wake up in a cold sweat. And then he began to dream every night and longer and longer. And then, it was enough to close his eyes, and he immediately saw him and, most importantly, he could not wake up himself, his wife heard him moaning in a dream, and wake him up. He went to all the doctors and healers, they did not find anything. And then it became quite bad,I built one myself, I connected the stun gun with the alarm clock, set the alarm for ten minutes and fell asleep, and the discharge lifted him so that he could not enter the container. And so every night. But, you know, you can’t last long in this mode. They took the good doctors of our captain and injected him with a horse dose of tranquilizers so that he would sleep normally. And you know, he was gone all night without hind legs, but in the morning everything disappeared like a hand. There is a ruddy, contented walk, but only everyone who heard his drunken revelations began to walk around him in a kilometer arc. Of course, they laughed at us, but we still went around. And then people began to disappear in the vicinity. First, one, two, then, when already for two dozen exceeded all began to think that the maniac was wound up. But I didn't even doubt for a second who our maniac was. Both the wife, and Petrov's children have not been seen for a long time.As a result, we began to follow him and it turned out that he goes to his garage every day. And thank God that we didn’t go there, gray men were ahead of us. They covered this garage with a hermetic cap, and everyone who lived within a kilometer from the garage was driven into quarantine, including us. In short, we all crap, while we were sitting in this quarantine. Nobody had already hoped to get out alive, all the guards and doctors were only in chemical protection of the highest level, we were left with water and food in a triple sluice. The pipe is shorter.while sitting in this quarantine. Nobody had already hoped to get out alive, all the guards and doctors were only in chemical protection of the highest level, we were left with water and food in a triple sluice. The pipe is shorter.while sitting in this quarantine. Nobody had already hoped to get out alive, all the guards and doctors were only in chemical protection of the highest level, we were left with water and food in a triple sluice. The pipe is shorter.
- So what was found in the garage? Twenty corpses?
- No, they found what he fed with these corpses.
- And what was it?
- I have no idea, we forgot to tell.
- Sorry, Comrade Colonel, but I'm completely confused: what is the moral of this story?
- For you, the moral is as follows: do not get your nose into your business and remember that everything can end much worse than you think.
- There are no prying into your own business.
- So what did you talk about with Leo Schultz?
- About my chip, more precisely, about its absence. This Leo is a rather strange type, he was trying to find out what kind of a phobia I have with regards to the chips.
- Do you have a phobia?
- No, I just do not like neurochips. In Moscow, you can do without them.
- Yes, it is possible in Moscow, and even more so in the wastelands.
- Well, in some places you can.
- Well, how do you know Maxima?
- In your daddy is it not written that we are classmates with him.
- It is written, only nothing is written about your quivering friendship.
- Yes, I have a lot of friends - classmates. With Max, we were friends, though, then he went to Mars, and we somehow got lost.
- Where did you go with him?
- Look at his workplace.
- At the workplace? What is there to look at?
- Yes, no matter what. Just Max somehow strongly overestimates the significance of his work. Like, look how cool I am, I work in Telecom, not that you, Dan, have never achieved anything.
- Really. Well, okay, Lieutenant Kaysanov, we will assume that I believe you. Free
“Get crazy,” thought Denis, heading for the door, “he seemed ready to kill me, otherwise he was free. What the hell are the games?
- And, yes, do not go anywhere from Moscow. You will still be useful, ”Arumov’s prudently impassioned voice caught up with him in the doorway.
- Well, Danchik, how is it? - Lena seemed genuinely worried about him, or it was just the eternal feminine desire to be the first to bring the latest gossip to her friends.
- While alive, but apparently the penalty is simply postponed.
- And what did he say?
- He said, I still have a good time. Sounds like a sentence.
- I do not know, it does not sound so terrible.
- Helen, and before me, who came to Arumov?
- Yes, a lot of people ...
- I mean from my colleagues, Lapin, for example?
- Yes, Lapin came, came out all sweaty, shaking.
- And Anton?
- What is Anton.
- Novikov, of course.
- It seems not, but what?
- Yes, so interesting. Listen, Len, don't you know how old Aarumov is?
- What are you talking about now? - Helen slightly pouted lips.
- Yes, I do not mean, I really need to know how old he is.
- Well, forty ..., I guess.
- And in his stories comes out more, okay. Thank you, Len, you helped me a lot today.
- Yes, please, do not disappear only.
- I will try, bye.
“Yes, what did he really want to tell this story about the container and the gray men? That he is much more years old than it seems, or that he is much more dangerous than it seems, ”thought Denis.
Loose in an old chair in his workplace, he decided to make himself a seagull, spit at the ceiling and at the same time think about his unenviable position. His duties now worried him last. Yes, and there was nothing really important in these duties: well, some letters, office help, bills and other dregs. Nearly reluctantly and leisurely depicted the similar activities of his colleagues in the operational department, often distracted by smoke breaks and meaningless chatter. “Yes, this dreary, sleepy life in shabby cabinets, of course, is not the ultimate dream,” thought Dan, “but at least warmly and flies do not bite. And soon I can even lose it. ” After checking his personal mail, he found a letter from the Telecom personnel service offering work. It would seem that here he is a chance, but Denis just sighed heavily. “They put bastards on all sides. Need to solve somethingif I continue to drag myself home like a ram, to a tavern, and back, either Telecom or Arumov, they will definitely accept me. ”
Leaving a message to Lapin, that he urgently needed to leave on business, Denis got into the car and headed home. In general, he didn’t really understand what he was going to do. No, he had a little thought to call Bate, can jerk to Finland, melt a bathhouse, potryndet with batey for life, find out the phone of some reliable guy from MIK, one of those that are not former. Then to return to Moscow and ... what will happen next, he could not even formulate at the level of kitchen reasoning. Will he go to this guy and offer to jointly stir up the guerrilla war against the Martians or against Arumov? It will not even be funny, in fact, of those former who have not drunk completely and have not died, all have long settled in warm places in state corporations. Well, he will come such a whole fearless "Comandante" to a respectable peasant in a suit, taking with him a bottle of brandy,and at best, it will all end in a banal drinking of the same kitchen chatter. And at worst, they would twist a finger at their heads and order a couple of mordovorot to throw him out. Dan parked in the courtyard, the old gas turbine engine whistled for some time, slowing down, and then there was a deafening silence. There was nobody in the yard: the children did not shout and the dogs did not bark, only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.And at worst, they would twist a finger at their heads and order a couple of mordovorot to throw him out. Dan parked in the courtyard, the old gas turbine engine whistled for some time, slowing down, and then there was a deafening silence. There was nobody in the yard: the children did not shout and the dogs did not bark, only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.And at worst, they would twist a finger at their heads and order a couple of mordovorot to throw him out. Dan parked in the courtyard, the old gas turbine engine whistled for some time, slowing down, and then there was a deafening silence. There was nobody in the yard: the children did not shout and the dogs did not bark, only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.only old trees creaked in the wind. Dan knew what would happen next, he would rise to his place, Lech would meet him, offer him a drink, he would break a little, then they would get drunk, beat around the area, steam would be spilled out, and tomorrow he would go to work with Arunov’s mouth. In general, everything will end before the trip to Finland.
“What then is my life,” thought Dan, “maybe there is no longer any life if everything is predetermined. Maybe I'm already dying in the gutter, and this muddy bodyaga flashes before my eyes. And why bother with me like that if nothing can be done? ”
It was stifling outside.
Scribbled a cigarette, Denis slowly moved along Krasnokazarmennaya Street towards Lefortovo Park. He understood that predestination was delaying for a pitiful couple of hours, but that was the only thing that came to mind. He walked right in the middle of the street. The street itself looked like after the bombing, and almost no one went through it. And in general, the district was falling into neglect: the next house stared at lonely passersby with empty sockets of broken windows.
“Go, perhaps, to Kolyan,” Dan thought, “if I am not able to solve the problem with Arumov and Telecom, then it is worthwhile to break through the option of a cowardly escape.”
Berg Kolyan, a merchant of various illegal junk, was located in the basement room of a large Stalin-era home. And camouflaged a rare sign "computers, components."
Nikolai Vostrikov, a tall, thin type, slouching and forever slightly jerky, was digging under the counter and, hearing the greeting of Denis, did not even think of getting out of there.
- Hey, Kolya, I'm actually talking to you. Hello, I say ... The
disheveled owner still emerged into the light of God and narrowed his eyes unkindly.
- Hi, what came up?
Today, Kolyan was in a blue, oiled dressing suit, like an auto mechanic. It was his standard outfit. He did not tolerate at all that suits and ties, and even just decent clothes. The only thing he recognized was military camouflage and various jumpsuits. He had about ten pieces in his closet, which were different, in every case of life: a polar jumper, a pilot, a tankman, etc. Over this strange fetishism, all of his acquaintances were stung by this and that side of the Urals.
- Well, right away, and pinned. I haven't seen you for a long time, maybe I want a drink with an old business partner.
- Dan, not funny. What the fuck are business partners? So you, my distant acquaintance, sometimes left gadgets bought from me, I see you for the second time in my life.
-Here you mean like with old friends?
- We are not friends, hare, okay. You visited me last time three months ago, and I would be very grateful if that time was the last one. Forget, please, about this place, in business now there are completely different people, serious, you have nothing more to catch here.
- Well, you know, I tied up. I have a completely different matter.
- Tied up, or you tied?
- Kolyan, yes stop ochkovat, you have not given up to anyone, your dear little girl.
- Well, if nobody surrendered to anyone, then why did you shout?
- We need to talk with one person.
- To talk, or talk ...
- Or.
- With whom?
- You once mentioned that you know a reliable comrade who has direct access to the Eastern Bloc.
- Maybe I know, but not the fact that he will help you. And what did you actually want from him?
- Let's not here, okay.
- Okay, let's go, but only out of respect ...
- Yes, out of respect for my dad, mom, grandmother, and so on, and also because I know something about you.
They passed through an iron, unpainted door to the basement and further through the mazes of multi-storey racks littered with ancient computer junk, came to one quite inconspicuous door and through a gloomy semi-lit basement to a deaf courtyard, in the center of which stood a one-storey hut park. In this shack, in a dark, shielded room, a couple of laptops connected to the Internet through their secure network were hidden, which allowed Kolyan to talk heart to head with anyone, practically without fear of eavesdropping.
“Yes, I decided to help only out of respect for your Siberian friends,” Kolyan said, taking out a laptop and a router. - They are about you several times interested.
- And what did you tell them?
- Said you took leave at your own expense. Listen, Dan, what are you hanging around with? He would have fallen somewhere in Argentina a long time ago. Close you, not alone, so others.
- They will not close, my Siberian friends did not pass me, although they are now working with other people.
- Yes, they are what, uramku taiga, but if they directly ask me, then I'm sorry, Dan, I will give you up with giblets. You may not know who I work with now?
- In general, in the course. You work with the same INKIS.
- With the same, but not quite. There are now such guys wound up, henchmen of one dumb colonel. Nobody decree them and no one knows where they are, who they are. They just come in, drench anyone they want, and then disappear: death squads are freaking. So if they come and ask about you, then I'm sorry.
“And if they ask about this friend of yours?”
- Yes, let me know nothing about him.
“But you can contact him.”
- And what's the point? He may be sitting somewhere on the ruins of Khabarovsk and he cannot be lured out.
- I wanted to meet him personally.
“Well, add it yourself, although I highly doubt it.” So what did you want from him?
- I do not want to Argentina, I want to go to the Eastern bloc.
- Have you been hit on the head recently? What the Eastern Bloc, this psychos is even worse than the new colonel's team. They just sell you to the organs and everything!
- You tie me, and then I will blink myself.
Kolyan just shook his head.
“Now if he answers.”
- Hey, Semyon, are you in touch, can you talk?
“In touch,” a synthesized voice came from the laptop, there was no image, “what happened?”
- My old comrade wants to talk to you, through whom I used to do business with Siberian guys. He was one of the key "couriers" before known events.
- What did he want?
- Yes, you better ask yourself, he is next to me. His name is Denis.
- Well hello, Denis. Tell me something about yourself a little.
- And you be healthy, Simeon. Can you tell me about yourself first?
- No, friend, so we will not succeed in dialogue. You called me, here's your first word. And I'll think about it later.
Dan hesitated a little, but, however, what a difference, too many detractors about him, and so everyone knew.
- In general, Kolyan, I described the situation. I will only add that, following the results of the well-known events, my group of comrades suffered the most. If you know Jan, then he was my direct chief in INKIS and in business too. He was accepted, and to the fullest, but for some reason I was left alone for the time being. But now the clouds are gathering again, and I need to look for a spare airfield.
- Why did you decide that they are gathering. Are you being watched?
- I think no.
- To think is, of course, useful. Do you have problems with any particular person or organization?
- With a man and with his organization. If you are aware of well-known events, then I have problems with their initiator.
- Denis, you can speak directly - this is a reliable channel. Do you have problems with Arumov?
- Yes, do you know anything about him?
The voice left the question without attention.
- What kind of problems?
- It so happened that I accidentally got into his business with another organization, and today he openly said that he was holding dirt on me and could use it at any time. I think he saved me for some dirty businessman whom any other person would refuse.
- Believe me, he has people for dirty business. And then it does not matter - compromising, not compromising, and in any case it’s impossible to refuse Arumov.
“Perhaps, but I don't want to check.”
- Well, are you going to hide?
- Yes, I consider all options.
- I advise you to consider it first. Only an extremely powerful organization can fight Arumov. True, I do not understand why you turned to me, I do not specialize in this kind of services. Kohl can you tell other people who will forward you to the United States or South America. I advise these countries, according to my data, the influence of Arumov is practically not spread there.
- These countries will not fit. Moreover, I have no more money for such an operation. You are the only person who has direct contact with the Eastern Bloc.
- What do you want from the Eastern bloc?
- I want to join them.
The synthesized voice fell silent for a few seconds. Dan waited patiently.
- This is a wrong decision, my friend. Firstly, Arumov also has ties with the Eastern Bloc, and much more serious than mine. And secondly, people from the street are not accepted there. I would certainly recommend, but I’m not expecting anything good there, I assure you.
- Even here, nothing good awaits me. I am willing to take the risk.
- Still, why? Being a smuggler seems to you not dangerous for your health? Do you want to be a stubborn follower of the cult of death?
- You can, of course, laugh at me, but they are the only ones who somehow oppose the Martians and their system.
“Ha-ha,” said the synthesized voice, “I really laugh at you.” They do not oppose the Martians, I assure you, they are an organic part of the system. So let's say a cesspool of this system. Many Martian corporations stock up on them with weapons or drugs, but you yourself know that. But there are specific services that no one else offers, for example, trade in genetically modified slaves.
- Well, why, some Martian corporations and not so willing to sell.
- So it does not matter. Just a struggle with the system there and does not smell. They are ordinary gangsters who, with radical cries for the death of all unclean with neurochips, are trying to somehow cover up their gangster essence. The simplest thing that awaits the servant of the death of the first circle is the mandatory drug addiction and the complete suppression of the person by systematic torture and hypnoprogramming. Believe me, Arumov is not so bad compared to them.
- Anyway, I see no other options.
“You, friend, are either very stupid or completely desperate.” The problem is the lack of money for other options?
- Partly, but in fact I even have a ready-made option: one office is ready to take me under the wing, just to shut up. Substitute here does not seem to smell. But, unfortunately, it does not suit me.
- Why not fit?
- If I say, you will have fun again and most likely you will not believe me. Can you just help me without asking too many questions?
- To a person whose motives are incomprehensible to me, I will have to refuse.
- Well, if I say, and you will not believe me, then what?
- If you tell the truth, I will believe. Any deception is not so difficult to uncover.
- All other options involve the mandatory installation of neurochip, but I can not go for it. I'd rather be a follower of the cult of death.
“You mean you don't have a chip?”
- Yes.
- Kolya, is this true?
- True, he really is such a frostbitten type, hanging around without a chip. He waits for him to be noticed somewhere, and all his adventures float.
- Hmm, strange, that is, he can not register on any network. How does he live at all?
- Register can. This is some kind of ancient military tablet, very cleverly imitating the work of a conventional chip. There are certain people who periodically update firmware for it.
- What is the difference, no network provider will assign a number to such a device, and attempts to register under the left numbers will attract attention in any network.
- And, Semen, what are you telling me? Everything is bought and sold, the left numbers or codes of law-abiding users, including, especially in Moscow.
- Well, suppose. Denis, and is it possible in more detail, from whom did you buy this device?
“We can, let's meet and discuss everything,” said Dan. - You help me, and I satisfy your curiosity.
“Yeah, you know, if I were an agent of some evil corporation and had a file on some Seeds, I would know that excessive curiosity is the only weakness of the respected Seeds. And on this hook I would catch him. I would write some enticing story about a guy who hates chips so much that he is ready to rot alive in the Eastern Bloc, just not to put the chip on. And to demonstrate the fake miracle tablet to anyone, having access to a database of some neurotech, will not be difficult.
- Kolyan vouch for me, he knows me for ten years.
“Undercover agents may work longer.”
- Well, I do not know how to prove to you that I am not an agent. Try to just believe.
- But still, why don't you like chips so much? After all, one can put a special chip for a certain amount of money that conveys false information about the user, and also graze anonymously in the networks. What a strange phobia?
“Something lately everyone has been concerned with my phobias,” grumbled Denis.
- And who else has to do with them? Arumova?
- No, one botanist from Telekom. He already exhausted his whole saliva when he learned that I was without a chip.
- Who is he?
- Botan one. I kind of voiced my wishes.
- Well, let's meet, but bear in mind, without nonsense, if I have anything - I shoot without warning.
- Yes, everything will be normal. Speak the address.
Semyon made an appointment in a small park on Staraya Basmannaya Street in just half an hour. From what Dan concluded that curiosity really makes the distinguished Seeds forget about caution, because the time and place of the meeting clearly indicated that it was hanging around somewhere nearby.
Denis sat down on a stool in the center of the park next to Bauman’s bust. From the thickets of weeds, completely tore the once-cute paving stones, a huge striped cat appeared. He looked around in a businesslike manner, wiggled his mustache, and slowly trotted along his feline affairs. Dan looked at the unusual cat so much that he didn’t notice the old man in a greasy leather jacket. And in vain.The old man, not at a loss, poked Denis with a shocker on his left shoulder. The fact that this is a shocker, Dan understood already reflexively, jumping aside.
“Young man, I apologize for such a vile reception, but this is the surest way to verify that a person really does not have a chip.”
“And no less faithful to ruin any goner,” Dan snapped, trying to quell the cramps in his hand.
- Once again, a thousand apologies, I decided that since a person is ready to go to the Eastern Bloc, then he certainly does not suffer from angina. And if he suffers, then he, surely, is completely weak with his head.
- Hey, uncle, where have you dug such a unit? They, too, have long been banned.
- Yeah, fucking Martians with their own good chips. They ponapyat them to different places and apply the same laws, and to the old Semen, what then to fight back from the gopnics? Bad words? They don’t care about the doorways of what the old, respected person has to make their way home ...
- Listen, uncle, have a lot of nonsense to carry, let’s do it.
- Young man, show a bit of respect. Now, if you are still waiting for a dirty trick from me, then please take it
away ... Denis carefully picked up a shabby, weighty machine with menacingly sticking teeth.
- But I warn you, the old Seeds left are not only rattles and bad words.
- Okay, checker, passed. Cool toy.
Dan handed the shocker back.
“That's good, I hope this regrettable incident is forgotten.” Let me introduce myself: Semen Cat. You can just Semyon Sanych.
- Well then, Semyon Sanych, what about the Eastern Bloc?
- It’s not so good the bull by the horns. Let's sit and talk. You tell me something, I'll tell you something. I am an elderly person, I don’t need anyone just with my grunts. You really respect the old man.
- No problem. You know, Semyon Sanych, I have nowhere to hurry. Want potryndet for life, please.
- And the truth is, where do you rush, to Arumov something. Better sit down with the old man. So I have gulls to support the conversation.
Semyon took out a small flask from behind his bosom and sipped it first. Dan did not hesitate and also sewed a seagull with the taste of excellent cognac, immediately spilling warmth all over his body.
- Well, Denis, what kind of bird are you, I understood in general. I, however, made some help on my channels. I must say that you have a rather poor biography in the virtual world. I would even say no. This, by the way, was another indirect confirmation that you are telling the truth about the chip.
- So, on the topic of chips, why did all of a sudden wonder what was in my head? What do you know with a telecom botanist that I don't know?
- Eh, youth. You do not know how to listen, but believe me, sometimes it is enough just to shut up to hear the most intimate human secrets. I mean, I wanted to melt the ice of distrust between us and in turn tell a little about myself. Maybe you guessed that I was somehow connected with MIK.
- It is no wonder to guess, everyone is connected with it.
“True, but I, of course, was not a brave officer with a cool head and other useful things, but rather an inconspicuous laboratory rat. True, I worked on a very interesting project. And do not ask what kind of project, the time will come - I will tell. So, I turned out to be a bit more resourceful than my other colleagues and took care of hiding the necessary materials. And when everything collapsed, I was ready: I ​​managed to erase all the information about myself and very quickly set up, let's say, a small business to collect information. Sometimes I trade in this information, but basically I just save up. I already have a huge database of thousands of interesting people. Basically, of course, here in Russia, but there are little people over the hill, and even on Mars.
- Why do you save it? Why not sell everything?
- How can I tell you, my friend, I'm not a huckster, and I sell only the most waste products just to live. And all the true treasures I carefully preserve.
- For posterity?
- Maybe I do not know for whom. Imagine the monks in the Middle Ages, who year after year persistently rewritten old books while epidemics and wars raged outside their monasteries. Why did they do it, who among contemporaries could appreciate their hard work. Only descendants could do this, hundreds of years after their death. For us, they have preserved at least some memory of past centuries.
- Chronicle will make?
- No, Denis. Okay, I see you are not interested. Well, I'll tell you one legend about people without a chip. But first answer, what kind of nerd from Telecom was interested in you?
- His name is Leo Schultz, he is the chief researcher of a certain research institute RSAD. Telecom division near Zelenograd. Mainly engaged in complex and non-standard medical operations, genetic engineering, implants and develop software for them. In general, the infamous desk also sculpts for Arumov a certain project of modifying the officers of the Inkis Security Council as a super soldier. The first samples have already been created; now it is planned to begin serial muddling. Who and what will be done with them later, I do not know. But this Schultz stirs up with Arumov. Yesterday we went there to sign some final documents on the project and did not sign anything like that. I do not know why, but apparently Schultz decided to jump off the topic abruptly, but Arumov now thinks that I'm somehow mixed up here. I yelled at me in the morning so that the windows trembled. And I, in short, really not in the subject, this Schultz tortured me for an hour,why I do not like chips and rubbed for the progress and spaceships, plowing spaces. What does Arumov and his favorite soldiers, honestly, not the slightest idea.
- I hear the most interesting things from you, friend Denis. And you, of course, haven't seen the super-soldier?
“Who knows, maybe he saw it,” Dan decided to confess after a short reflection. In spite of the shocker and spiteful manners, Denis sensed with some sort of sixth sense that you could trust Semen, or maybe this brandy played a role.
- But now you're lying, you could not see them.
- Why is this?
- Well, firstly, the admission needs a very high, do not lead anyone there. And secondly, there is a secret instruction to them: in no case should you let people without chips close by.
- Wow, Semyon Sanych, and you really have good sources of information. They have such a firmware, I had to check it out on my own skin.
- And how did you manage to survive? Well, okay, this topic is for a separate conversation. Come on chip at first, just another question: is it by chance that Leo Schultz promised you shelter?
- Yes, including him.
“Then it’s good that you didn’t rush into his arms and now you will understand why.” You probably know that after the second space war, the MIC actively developed new ways of dealing with the Martians. One of the most important was the program for the introduction of agents and saboteurs into Martian structures. It was as large and effective as possible. When the Martians, after the collapse, received information about it, they really clutched at the head. Had we held out for some time and gathered a sufficient number of agents, we would have launched a real war against these noobs. Can you imagine what it is like to live in hermetic caves when thousands of enemy agents are potentially working at oxygen stations and atomic reactors. Yes, they would be sharply not to the empire. They would have diapers changed three times a day for each cotton. Then of courseMick was gone and the Martians little by little got all these agents out. You, by the way, sweets snacks.
Semyon pulled out from the pocket of semi-dried candy with sticky strings and crumbs.
- So, in their internal instructions, the Martians divided all agents into four classes. And there they described in detail how to identify them and what to do with them. Agents of class four are ordinary recruits, who received orders to lie on the bottom before a sabotage war or just gather information. It is clear that they are the most low-value and unreliable. Actually, after the collapse of the Empire, they were not particularly zealous. In the absence of orders, a normal person will not go on his own initiative to blow up an oxygen station. Class three - this is the agents who have passed a long special. processing is still on Earth and sent to Mars under the guise of migrants. Death planes, in short, ready for anything. They believed that after death the emperor would be reborn and resurrected in a better world, where the Empire won. Type the emperor has a supernormal ability to see the future and moreover,he may briefly show this future to a young neophyte. Letting him wander through the sun-drenched rooms of huge institutions, talk to beautiful, intelligent people with a pure soul who have forgotten what unemployment and crime are. And admire the lights of evening Moscow after the victory of communism. It is clear that the MIC at the end was well-trained to show all sorts of tricks with rebirths, paradise gurias and other troubles, but still it’s not perfect. Even a brain that has been flushed until it stops, after several years of independent living, it starts asking questions and doubting. Or simply can blurt out something superfluous where it is not necessary. In general, the next upgrade is class two. They have a hypnoprogram in their brain, or a mini-chip. With the minichip, of course, it was released from a lack of time, they are quite easy to detect. But hypnoprogram is another matter.A man with her may not suspect that he is an agent. And it is activated simply by a verbal code, or by a message on the social network. After that, an exemplary family man will go and kill the right Martian, or blow up the gateway. True, it is said that only one out of ten potential migrants survived after hypnoprogramming, but this, of course, did not stop the MIC. But they are very difficult to recognize, they say, they still have not caught everyone, and Martians regularly suffer from paranoia from this. You never know what a madman can get access to the activation codes of these agents. Don't look at me like that, I don't have these codes. Well, the coolest - class one, supplemented by genetic modifications or artificial microorganisms. They can be a biological bomb, produce rare poisons for murder, and there is little else.To identify the need to conduct comprehensive polls and DNA tests from all parts of the body. Martians are still working on this.
“Very informative,” grinned Denis. - So, you or I may well be the agents of MIK and not even suspect it.
- Wait, do not hurry, it is better to still have a cup of bread and a piece of snack. We are hardly with you agents of the first or second class. Why the heck did they need Moscow? They are the most valuable and expensive, they are always sent to Mars. But there is still a legend that there are some agents of class zero. This is most likely really only a legend. It is possible that someone drunk cooked up this bike, because once there are four classes, then there must be a zero class, the companions liked it and went for a walk in certain circles. Even the Martians came and fell into some of their instructions in the form of footnotes and reservations. What is the task of these agents and what are their opportunities; there are many conjectures on this topic, but nothing credible. The only thing that is alarming is that in all variations of this bike there is a prerequisite: the absence of any chips, molecular or electronic,agents class zero. Honestly, it is not at all clear why an agent without a chip is needed, since he obviously cannot integrate into any European structure, not to mention the Martians. And nothing was known about these agents, even to curators from the MIC with the highest tolerance. Already Semen Cat knows for sure.
And imagine, suddenly a man appears who for some reason does not like chips so much that he is ready to die rather than to put it. I met people without chips, any homeless people who stupidly have no money, or scumbags from the Eastern Bloc and just psychos. But you do not fall into any category. I always thought that the legend about agents of class zero is from some kind of reflection, waiting for the one who will come and save everyone. In fact, the overwhelming majority of minded people in Russia, and not only, Martians quietly hate. But even a ghostly hope somehow does not resist them, so again, reasonable people do not rock the hook. Yes, and fight, in principle, not for anyone. Therefore, the stories about the last Mohican who will come and lead everyone into battle are so tenacious. I even thought that the Martians themselves invented this bike to blow off steam.And then suddenly - here you are, ghostly hopes have gained flesh. Miracles…
“So a miracle,” said Denis. - Besides the keen desire to fill the face of the cyber guards, I actually have a soul and nothing. Maybe I need to activate as agents of class two.
- Maybe it should. But nobody knows how. And they say that a class zero agent knows access codes and data on all MIC agents. You drink a seagull.
- What are you bothering me with your tea? - Dan suspiciously sniffed the neck of the flask. - You are still suspicious gulls.
- Do not worry, it just gives an interesting reaction with almost any kind of molecular chips.
- There are no chips. Already tied with checks, but then I, too, may have a fit of distrust.
- I understood that no. Otherwise, you would have long vomited from all the holes. Forgive the old fool, I do not believe that you are truly chosen, came under the sunset of my worthless life.
“Oh, two hours ago, I almost resigned myself to the end of my floundering.” And then suddenly I give hopeless hopes to someone. Miracles straight!
- Do you know what else makes me believe in agents of class zero?
- Telecom super-soldiers? - suggested Dan.
“I guessed correctly,” Semyon shook his head approvingly. “What I’m thinking is: you can hardly just pick up the ghost’s genome and then transfer it to a person.” Surely they have some kind of protection - genome coding, genetic memory, whatever. But even among ghosts, or among those who control them, there may be traitors who have agreed to serve the Martians. Therefore, ghosts, traitors and kill all people without chips. Oh, they are probably the best devoted to all the imperial secrets. From what I learned about them, we can conclude that this is, rather, not a special firmware, but some unrecoverable bug. This hunt did not give up to the Martians themselves, they are practical people and believe in class zero agents insofar as.
- Well, it means that not all super-soldiers have this bug.
- In what sense? Should everyone have?
“Why do you think I'm still breathing after meeting them?” One turned out not to be such a scumbag and soaked the other who was going to tear my head off. In general, not a bad guy, I probably owe him now in life. Type he has free will.
- Why does he have free will? - surprised Semyon.
- To suffer. If you have free will, then you don't want it, but you have to suffer.
Denis shivered chilly and looked around. He was so absorbed in talking that he did not notice how it began to get dark. Cool air rushed into the chest, bringing with it the smells of faded grass and wet earth. Denis was already quite noisy in his head and the autumn evening began to play with new colors. Even the usually annoying silence of semi-abandoned Moscow streets began to seem mysterious and soothing. Like a soft blanket hid them from enemy eyes and ears. A single lantern burned in the garden, and around it, for the first time a million, mindlessly repeating the routine of things, myriads of insects had already begun to gather. Just think, someone was already going to rewrite their minds on the quantum matrix, but can this clever man unequivocally answer the simple question: why do insects fly with suicide persistence into the light. After all, their struggle is absolutely hopeless,but they are so persistent that one day, one of countless billions will manage to fulfill a great mission and bring happiness to all the other bugs on the planet.
“You think Schultz also decided that I was a class zero agent.” Type of exclusive goods that can be presented on a platter to your favorite Martians to curry favor? - Denis broke the silence.
- Nothing personal, just business. Well, if this is only his initiative, and if the central office is interested in this, then you just don’t get off the hook.
- Yes, I know, I have nothing to lose. And you, dear Semyon Sanych, have something to lose?
- To me? With my arthritis and sclerosis? Only upholster the clinics in old age. But what do you propose to do? Would you really be an agent of class zero, and I would know how to activate you ... and so ...
- Do not despair. Let's find a way to activate me: shake Shultz or Arumov, something we dig up.
- Simple you guy, shake Schultz. Maybe immediately the boss of Neyrotek some shake? However, yes, why this senile grumbling. Since you are so young and handsome, you are in a hurry to die, then I must even take the risk.
- Well then, it was decided, to hell with the Eastern Bloc, we are looking for a way to activate the agent of class zero. Come on, for us, - Denis enthusiastically raised his flask.
- Still, you amaze me. So you can easily believe that some unfamiliar old fart will go to the embrasure with you?
“Why not, you yourself say that there are quite a few people in the world who hate Martians.” And if this is a joke, or you are some kind of a paid Martian provocateur, and to hell with it.
“Those who hate the Martians are probably millions and billions, but not all of them are seriously ready to fight.” You understand that we will lose and die with a probability of 99 and 9 in the period. The Martians are infinitely at enmity with each other, but in the struggle with an external enemy, especially so pitiful as we are, their whole system is absolutely monolithic.
- Fear is a bad adviser. Maybe the Martians won not because they are so cool, but because the whole world just buried its virtual worlds and is afraid to blather.
“Unfortunately, the real world has shrunk too much, and no one can notice our blathering in it.”
- Yes, it's all not important, they will notice, they will not notice. This is not the case when you need to consider the probability, you just have to believe and start doing something. If my struggle is at least a little important for this world, I hope that the laws of probability will be on my side. And if not, then it turns out that my whole life is no more expensive than dust and there is no need to shake over it.
- Your truth, - reluctantly agreed Semen.
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Source: https://habr.com/ru/post/449832/
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