Quantum Future (continued)
Link to the first part.
Chapter 2. The Martian Dream
Chapter 3. The Spirit of the Empire
A young scientist Maxim Minin strolled along a small hill on the surface of Mars, leaving shallow trails on the red sand, who arrived on the Tule cosmodrome for the leading Martian corporation Telecom-ru for twenty minutes ago on an INKIS passenger flight. Maxim sincerely believed that there was no Martians conspiracy against the rest of humanity, and the revelations conveyed in a drunken whisper in the kitchen after the third bottle are just pathetic excuses for marginalized losers. He was going to work hard, with the support of his sophisticated mind, to achieve a cushy little place somewhere on the top of the telecom pyramid. Max sincerely believed in the fulfillment of his Martian dream.
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He was dressed very casually: in a woolen knitted sweater, slightly worn jeans and black boots with thick soles. A whirlwind of fine red dust shot up over the stones, but the grains of sand, obedient to the will of the program, instantly melted like early snow.
On Mars, personally owned by Max, it was this: half real, half fictional. Not far from the hill, a translucent wall of an enormous power dome broke off vertically into the ground; it was created by super-power ring emitters of the electromagnetic field, which crowned the metal towers of a kilometer height. All seven towers, forming a regular heptagon, and the eighth, the highest, located in the center, were visible from the place where Max stood. The nearest tower with its gray gloomy bulk propped up the dark Martian sky, the distant ones were visible with thin lines crossing the horizon. Each of them was attached to its own nuclear power plant to power the windings of the emitters. A crown of miniature lightning sparkled and crackled around the rings, recalling the terrible power of the towers going through the metal body.
The hexagon, inscribed in the circumference of a half-destroyed, shallow crater, covered the area of ββseveral hundred square kilometers with a force dome. In a space filled with a breathable atmosphere, a quite ordinary earthly city emerged, and the spaces free from buildings were filled with pine-groves and transparent water bodies that were dear to the heart. Even many species of feathered creatures, not to mention beasts, have adapted to the life inside.
At the whim of Max, the place where he stood, heard the sounds of the big city he was used to in Moscow: the roar of the crowd, the beeps of cars, the rattling and ringing, measured strokes from construction sites. Of course, real Martian cities are hidden deep in caves, there are no signs of dangerous and expensive power domes, and when a detector detects any form of life other than human, a biological alarm signal is turned on. But virtual reality gives a wide scope for any fantasy.
Near the side of the power dome, like an artificial lake, a smooth concrete field of the cosmodrome with radar bowls and turret towers at the edges spread. At the mooring locks, there were several heavy cargo ships. They resembled giant beetles with a fuselage, smoothly passing to the bottom of the engine nozzles. The passenger terminals were reddish domes made of plasma 3D printing of Martian sand and stones. They even had built-in transparent areas for admiring the surroundings, only slightly inferior in strength to the meter-high ceilings of the dome.
On a granite pedestal in front of the passenger terminals of the cosmodrome, a silver bird with short wings and a characteristic angular body of the first shuttle vehicles proudly looked up. Tattered and battered by a long life, she miraculously retained the thirst for great discoveries in the predatory glitter of the black nose and front edge of the wings. The best cars always carry a strange combination of properties - the spirit of the machine that makes them almost alive. The silver bird on the pedestal was just such a machine. She never sat on the surface of Mars, delivering only descent vehicles, but enjoyed an honorable rest here. Every day technicians in spacesuits blasted the ship with compressed air, knocking out red dust from the smallest cracks of the hull that began to collapse. Especially carefully they worked around the inscription "Viking" on the side of the ship. Nose "Viking" was oriented to the geographical north pole of Mars. On the opposite side of the terminal, the βStormβ looked to the south, from the west and east, the INKIS cosmodrome was guarded by βOrionβ and βUralβ - four famous ships that won the leadership of the global space race for Russia at the dawn of the interplanetary flight era.
On this background, and Max stood. He read the message, although in his opinion it would be enough for a short message in the chat. But his girlfriend demanded the illusion of live communication, and fast communication was too expensive.
βHello, Masha, I flew normally, without any special incidents. Inkis ships are quite reliable. True, to spend three weeks in cryos - pleasure is below average. Two more transplants at orbital stations, moreover. But the prices, as you understand, on INKIS flights are significantly lower than those of competitors. Immediately I recognize Telecom - miserly, damn it, on a business class compartment on the NASA-Spacelines liner that reach Mars in five days, they will not fork out for anything. They say you have to be a patriot, although what the hell is patriotism.
But because of local gravity, more problems arise: Iβll raid the walls with overclocking and smash the local ones. It will be necessary to enroll in a special gym, otherwise in a year or two I will be able on Earth only to ride in a wheelchair. In general, gravity can easily get used to, wean it a little harder, but it is also possible, that's what really strains me here, so these are Martian problems with ecology. This, of course, at the other extreme, in our country, the ecology in Moscow is so bad that rats and cockroaches die, but as everyone knows, nobody cares. And before the flight to Mars I was still tortured with tests on environmental literacy on Earth, and the training films were constantly played during the flight, and besides, I have to install special programs on my chip that monitor my law-abidingness. Such a feeling is that, on Mars, all earthlings, by default, are considered to be some kind of pig, striving to riddle everything around. Such a local variety of boorishness: here are the visiting fools, and we, the indigenous Martians, will teach their mind to reason. And God forbid, I will throw a cigarette butt or stub on the floor, my own chip will immediately tell you where it should be, that is, the environmental service, and they will impose a huge, enormous fine on me, and in case of relapse, they can solder prison terms. After all, come on, and there are no more states, and the eco-service scarecrow is more terrible than the native KGB or the MIC, at the mere mention of it the arms and legs are taken away from all Martians, nasty, damn it.
I donβt know if the garbage is so dangerous, if it can cause a massive epidemic, or if some damn near hell can provoke an accident in life support systems. All this, in my opinion, is as scary as it is unlikely. Death in an isolated sector from an unknown contagion or death from decompression is a terrible thing, but as they say, fearing wolves is not going to the forest. It was necessary to settle on a planet with a hostile external environment in order to shake over each incomprehensible spot: βAh, suddenly it's an alien mold, it will enter the body and Martian toadstores will sprout from meβ. Honestly, people who have lived a bit on Mars seem to be crazy about this topic, I heard a lot of such horrors while flying, which is enough for a few first-class thrillers. It seems that someone deliberately introduces into the mass consciousness the fear of accidents, fires, and pardon the term, "musor-phobia." All Martians are such sissies, damn it. But pureness is purely external, does not extend to the cultural sphere of life. From the local advertising, I am shocked at all: no wit, one unprincipled emphasis on consumption and base instincts.
However, as I said, you get used to everything, and to excesses in the Martian "internal politics" too. I do not smoke, and I have got used to cleanliness since childhood, so there is no reason for me to be afraid of eco service. The main thing is that I will work in the best Russian company, for the sake of a chance to achieve something in life, you can suffer a little.
And yet, I have not yet met a single real Martian. Do you remember my grandmother scared everyone: βThey are huge under three meters tall, pale, skinny with thin, whitish hair and blackening eyes that look like underground spidersβ. I thought, the closer to Mars, the worse the Martians, and they were neither in the ship nor in the stations. But this is probably understandable: they rarely fly to Earth and, in any case, INKIS do not trust their precious bodies. Maybe the city will be different. But he accidentally met at the station with one employee of the Telecom security service. He says he flew on a business trip. It is strange that such types work in Telecom. It shows that he is not a simple security guard, and why should a simple security guard fly on business trips. Caucasian roots are clearly visible in this Ruslana: he doesnβt confuse facial features and manner of speaking, with faces and cases, but there is a characteristic accent. No, you know, I normally treat people of other nationalities ... But this Ruslan, in short, is a bit like some kind of bandos. So, don't care, of course, doesnβt we have a little under the windows of all kinds of personalities. I probably imagined Telecom in a somewhat idealistic way: the Martian corporation was hoping, the Martians were in charge of everything - reasonable, executive, conscientious. I thought Mars is the world of nanotechnology and virtual reality. And that Mars, while one continuous strained. Eco service is still flowers, here is a real beast here. All free services and programs are messed up with advertisements right up to the roof, and try to lock something up, the eco-service will seem like a mother to your own. Come on, pirated programs, itβs clear to any fool that this is no good. But what about the law on bots you probably have not heard. I forgot to add to the bot a signature that he is a bot and everything, dry crackers, and welcome to the uranium mines.
So, summarizing, I must honestly admit to you, dear Masha, that the first acquaintance with Mars did not meet my best expectations, however, no one promised that it would be easy. In addition, if there is a full tukhlyak, I will return back, as agreed, but if everything is fine, then you will come in a couple of months, when we will complete all the documents. Well, okay, it's time for me to round out, I'll write more in the evening. Say hello to everyone, most importantly, you also send letters, do not use this quick connection: she is dear as the devil knows what. All I kiss, I have to run. β
Max added a few picturesque landscapes of the red planet to the file: an indispensable view from the top of a twenty-kilometer Olympus and the grand sheer walls of the Mariner Valley and sent a letter. He jumped out of virtual reality and began, cursing, to close the advertising windows, which were an unpleasant bonus to any "free" application. He calmed down only when a translucent user interface menu remained in sight. Gently moved his stiff limbs and irritably pulled out a synthetic shirt and the same pants. He was extremely disliked by Martian clothing, very durable and beautiful, but without a single natural villus or speck of dust that can cause allergies in the locally weak health. Grandmother's sweaters, socks, as well as the rest of the βenvironmentally dirtyβ clothes, were sewn up in airtight bags even at customs.
A new acquaintance was approaching the networked cafe table where Max was located. He was dressed in a gray suit of expensive synthetic, which looked and felt like wool, while maintaining its special environmental properties. Ruslan was tall, tightly knit and stocky, very strong looking, as if, and did not live at half gravity. This, of course, would have distinguished him from the crowd if he knew that he was not using cosmetic programs. On INKIS ships, they did not really work, but on Mars, βnaturalβ appearance was also encountered infrequently, like clothing and food, in general, like everything natural. As the eternal advertising read: βImage is nothing, provider is everythingβ! Max would like to correct Ruslan's image: to his proud eagle profile, high cheekbones and dark skin, it was necessary to add a turban, a scimitar curve on his belt and white minarets in the background to create a beautiful image in its completeness. Well, he didnβt fit in with the image of an executive security officer who spends his work days online, carefully observing the internal life of the corporation. Do not need physical training for such work, but to preserve it with a small gravity oh, how difficult it is: without medical intervention and daily training can not do. Hardly Ruslan is such a fan of a healthy lifestyle. Maybe he is some kind of performer of delicate instructions, or, according to Russian tradition, the task of the security service is to catch employees who are dissatisfied with the working conditions of employees running away from the company. Max was aware that his assumptions are not supported by anything, it is much more likely that Ruslan is some petty boss and he has the time and money to keep track of his appearance.
Ruslan's βbouncingβ gait, usually characteristic of people who have recently arrived from the world with normal gravity, approached the table, pushed the empty chair with a creak and sat opposite, folding his hands on the table.
- Well how are you? - casually asked Max.
βThe prosecutorβs case, brother.β
Ruslan took a hard look to the side, drummed his fingers on the table and asked another question.
- You have an old chip?
- Well, it is possible to change the chip on Mars at least every year, and in Moscow it is a bit expensive and the type is a bit risky, given the quality of medicine.
- This is understandable, only in the company of local people who mow under the Martians, do not blunder. All the same, that most recognize themselves as a complete sucker.
Max winced slightly, his interlocutor had no tact at all, which was what was expected in principle.
- And what is it like that?
- No need to drive your hands and twitch your fingers, it is immediately clear that your chip is controlled by movements, not thoughts. Put yourself some makeup to hide it.
- Yes, nothing more to do, or what? What are these cheap Ponte? In order to properly control the chip only by the thought teams, one must be born with it in the head.
- Exactly, Max, you were not born with a chip in your head, unlike Telecom bosses.
- No, not born. Like you were born? - in the voice of Max closely intertwined annoyance and distrust.
He tried to think less about the fact that a lot of people who were born with a neurochip in their head should work in Telecom. And, in terms of skills of working with neurochips, he, for sure, is no good for them. Although, by the way, HR specialists at the Moscow branch of Telecom appreciated his knowledge very highly. βDamn this new friend,β thought Max, βyes, he would have gone in a certain direction.β
- If you do not care about public opinion, really do not care, you can do as you prefer and not bathe. But the cool Martian guys control the electronics with the power of thought, and the rest of them get it in one place. It does not come that you have to be born with a chip in your head and learns all this from childhood. It's like playing football, if you havenβt played in ten years, then Peleβs laurels are no longer shining. So it's easier and cheaper to press virtual buttons. Would you like to play like Pele?
- In football or what?
- Not football, of course, is that so, figuratively speaking?
βThis is what a cynical brute I came across,β Max thought irritably. βAfter all, he continues to hit the most sensitive place.β
- This is generally a dubious statement.
βWhat statement?β
- About the fact that if you have not played since childhood, then you canβt see any real success. Not everyone since early childhood knows what talents he has.
- Yes, all the talents are laid in early childhood, then you will not change anything. Fate is not chosen.
- From any rule there are exceptions.
- There are one in a million. - Easily and indifferently agreed Ruslan.
These words were spoken with such cold confidence that Max already caught a slight chill. As if the ghost of a certain generalized Martian Pele appeared nearby and began, with a barely perceptible smile of complete superiority, to craft his own inaccessible feints with the ball.
- Okay, it's time for me to meet with the local football coach.
Max has already made no secret of the fact that he is experiencing easy discomfort from communicating with a new friend.
- I can give you a lift, my car arrived for me.
- Yes, it is not necessary, I do not care to the central office of Telecom.
- You do not strain, okay. I do not have the same chip as yours and cosmetics. Only this is real for me on the drum, but you, if you want to join the crowd of all these pseudo-Marcians, get used to being seen as a guest from Moscow.
- Are you used to mean?
- I say, I have a different social circle. And you live with it, believe me, without extra ponto in the race to the local trough, nowhere. A simple guy from Moscow has zero chances.
- Something I strongly doubt that the Martians care about cheap Ponts.
- You really do not look at these Martians.They certainly do not care. And you and me, for them, in general, the type of pets. I'm talking about the others who are hanging around. No one will say anything directly, but you will immediately feel the attitude. I did not want this to be an unpleasant surprise.
βI will deal with the local order somehow.β
- Of course, nothing started this conversation. Let's go give a ride.
Max knew well that it took quite a long time to get on trains, but there were almost no traffic jams on Mars due to the high tariffs for private cars and a well thought-out transport system, therefore, after weighing all the pros and cons, he decided that he would stand Ruslana society for another hour.
- To the central office dokinu, let's go.
Max entrusted the main baggage to the concerns of the trucking service, so now he traveled light. He once again examined the bag with an oxygen mask and a Geiger counter, and checked whether the ribbon of the flexible tablet, which increases the performance of the outdated neurochip, sits tightly on his arm. Over time, of course, you will have to implant more modern devices on yourself, but for now you have to do with what you have. Max got up from the table and resolutely headed after Ruslan. In the cafe no one paid them a drop of attention. It can be seen that only the bodies were present from the visitors, and the consciousnesses wandered in the labyrinths of the virtual world.
The path to the parking lay through a huge arrival hall, which was strikingly different from the hateful Russian reality. The feeling was as if at once transferred to some Brazilian carnival. Crowds of bots offering taxi services, hotels and entertainment portals, attacked any new user, like a pack of starving dogs. Merry airships floated under the high ceiling, exotic dragons and griffins shimmered in all the colors of the rainbow, fountains and lush tropical plants made their way out of the ground. Max, with annoyance, tried to shake off the texture of the flyer that had fallen off from his hands, next to which appeared a bright red diamond of the service message about the need to update the codecs. Immediately, a dark elf in an armored jacket attached to him, aggressively inviting him to try out the next multiplayer RPG for real men.
Neurochip reacted to this whole orgy by a sharp decrease in performance. The image went jerky, and some objects began to blur and turn into a set of nasty colorful squares. And, by a strange coincidence, the models of advertising bots did not even think of being pixelated, unlike real objects. Stumbling on the escalator, Max spat on everything and began to actively swing his arms, trying to clear the visual channel.
- Problems? - Ruslan politely asked down the escalator.
- Come on! I just can not understand how to remove ads.
- Have you already installed free apps from mariner play?
βThey won't let me out of the spaceport without them.β
Ruslan showed an unexpected concern, supporting Max by the elbow when he got off the escalator.
- It was necessary to read the license agreement.
- Two hundred pages?
- There somewhere on the one hundred and twentieth it is written that a weak chip is your personal problem. For advertising paid, no one will cut it. Unscrew the visual settings to a minimum.
- What kind of shit is that ?! Either see screenshots, or solid pixels beyond ten meters.
- Get used to it. I warned you: in comparison with lovers of smoothies and segways from Neyrotek, I am just a sample of politeness. You still appreciate my honesty, brother.
- Of course ... bro.
- Get a service connection from Telecom will be easier.
When Max was in the underground garage, he was a little confused at first. The poorly lit, seemingly semi-abandoned room was stretching in all directions from the elevator as far as the eye could see. The parking was a real forest of floor-to-ceiling columns, arranged at regular intervals, with lighting so scanty that the bands of light alternated in it with bands of half-light. Ruslan stopped in front of a heavy tinted SUV and turned around. His face completely sank in the shadows and from the impersonal gloomy silhouette clearly breathed something otherworldly. It was as if the ferryman was waiting for someone who was destined for him to take him to the underworld. The low force of gravity added to the mystical mindset their five kopecks. Max did not distinguish the solid border of the floor in the twilight and after each step for a couple of moments he hung in the air, from which it seemedthat he will now float in a gray mist, like a lost soul. βI donβt have any coins to pay for services, I risk hanging forever between worlds.β Max unscrewed the visual settings and the other world disappeared, turning into a regular underground parking.
Ruslan smoothly touched the heavy car.
- What exactly do you do at work, if not a secret? - Max decided to use a new acquaintance to get a shred of insider information.
- Yes, basically I look through personal correspondence, all sorts of love messages there and so on. Mortality boredom, you know.
βI understand, I understand, that is still a job,β Max smiled politely, and looking at the serious face of the interlocutor, he added, somewhat surprised. - So this is not a joke or what?
βWhat jokes can be, buddy,β Ruslan blurred in a smile. - I, of course, have completely different responsibilities, but your concern about your personal life will quickly pass. All Telecom employees can check any letters and conversations, regardless of official or any other.
Ruslan grinned crookedly and, a bit later, he continued:
- For important employees there is even a special server in the depths of Telecom, to which everything you see and hear is written from the chip.
- No luck to these important employees.
- Yes, if you saw the guys who dig in our dirty laundry ... Canned residents, in general, do not care what they see there.
- In my opinion, all this is illegal, prohibited, including by the decisions of the Advisory Board.
- Get used to it, there is no law on Mars, besides that, which establishes an office for an employee. Any problems, look for another job.
- Yeah, to get a job in a corporation, where for the slightest offense they are whipped with rods.
- Life is a cruel thing. All lovers of private life inject waiters and other service-suckers, nobody cares about what they are talking about and what they think.
βWell, there is no absolute freedom, you always have to sacrifice something,β Max said philosophically.
- There are no rights and freedoms at all, there is only a balance of forces and interests of different players. If you are not a player, this balance will have to be kept.
βWell, well, and soon we will meet with the local Al Capone, who taxis Telekomovskoy SB? This new friend, of course, is still the type, you need to be more careful about him, but such an acquaintance may well be useful, β- reasoned Max.
Max always wanted to live on Mars. Every day, looking out of the windows at the dilapidated, extinct Moscow, he thought about the red planet. The slender spiers of the towers, the beauty of the underworld and the infinite freedom of mind pursued him in restless dreams. Maxβs Martian dream was a little different from the average proprietary: he didnβt dream only of virtual and material goods. His understandable desire for wealth and independence are closely intertwined with the clearly unattainable, almost communist, dreams of bringing justice and happiness to all in the world. He, of course, did not tell anyone about this, but sometimes he quite seriously believed that he would be able to achieve such power and wealth on Mars, which would turn the pack of cruel transnational corporations into the likeness of Mars, which he saw in childhood dreams. And as an object of improvement, he was not satisfied either by Moscow,not even Europe or America, but only Mars. Sometimes he acted very irrationally, sacrificing to dreams, much more lucrative offers from non-Marshian companies. Max rushed to the red planet and did not want to listen to the arguments of reason, being somehow certain that the walls into which he had unsuccessfully pounded in Moscow would suddenly magically collapse in front of him on Mars. No, he, of course, planned everything in advance: to get a job in Telecom, first rent housing, then he could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved his top-priority tasks, quietly tear the way to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.much better deals from non-Marshian companies. Max rushed to the red planet and did not want to listen to the arguments of reason, being somehow certain that the walls into which he had unsuccessfully pounded in Moscow would suddenly magically collapse in front of him on Mars. No, he, of course, planned everything in advance: to get a job in Telecom, first rent housing, then he could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved his top-priority tasks, quietly tear the way to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.much better deals from non-Marshian companies. Max rushed to the red planet and did not want to listen to the arguments of reason, being somehow certain that the walls into which he had unsuccessfully pounded in Moscow would suddenly magically collapse in front of him on Mars. No, he, of course, planned everything in advance: to get a job in Telecom, first rent housing, then he could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved his top-priority tasks, quietly tear the way to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.I planned everything beforehand: to get a job in Telekom, to rent housing first, then I could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved my top priorities, quietly tread the path to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.I planned everything beforehand: to get a job in Telekom, to rent housing first, then I could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved my top priorities, quietly tread the path to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.
As a child, Max visited the Martian capital, and the fabulous city enchanted him. He walked everywhere with his mouth open and his eyes wide open. Like a monstrous soul catcher, the fabulous city of Thule caught him in a glittering net, and from then on an invisible, tingling string stretched Max all the time with him. Often it seemed like insanity. When Max was twelve, he collected models of rovers, ships, collected rare stones from the depths of the red planet, on the shelf he had a large, almost meter-long Viking model, which he pasted for half a year. Gradually, he outgrew his toys, but he was pulled to Mars with the same force, as if someone was persistently whispering into his ear: "Leave, run, there you will find happiness and freedom." This mystical connection was in the foreground in his life, the rest: both friends and Masha,and the family flew somehow imperceptibly against the background of a global goal, although Max learned how to hide his indifference to everything mundane well. In the end, it was not the most destructive passion of those that possessed people, and Max learned to use it for good. At least, Masha was sure that all these titanic efforts were being made for the sake of their future family happiness. And the whole life of Max turned into a compromise between unrealizable dreams and what life circumstances dictated to him. Max constantly screamed in an exhausting pursuit for no one knows who, he was tormented by the following thoughts: βDamn, Iβll be thirty years old, and I'm still not on Mars. If I find myself there by the age of forty with Masha and two children, this will be a complete and final defeat. Yes, and I will never be there in this situation. We must do everything fasterwhile I'm still young and strong. β And he did everything even faster to the detriment of quality and everything else.
Max looked out the window: a heavy car was rushing, through a tangled network of underground tunnels, to the ancient walls of which the human hand never seemed to touch. There were almost no cars on the narrow, two-lane track. Occasionally, only the trucks with the emblem of the INCIS came across: a stylized head of an astronaut with a raised visor of a helmet, against the background of a planetary disk.
βWhere are we going anyway? - With a little anxiety, Max thought, continuing to stare out the window. βDoesnβt look like a busy highway to Thule.β
βThis is the official INKIS highway, we will reach it in thirty minutes,β Ruslan answered the unspoken question. - And on the usual road, would crawl half an hour.
- Are we the only ones who are smart on the official roads?
- Of course, it is closed to ordinary carriers, just INKIS and Telecom are linked by an old close friendship.
βFriendship with them,β Max thought skeptically. βIt would be interesting to find out what this type actually does.β
Looking at the ribbon of the road unfolding in front of him, he wondered how Ruslan so calmly oriented himself in the maze of tunnels and caves along which they sped at breakneck speed. The track constantly turned, then flew up, then collapsed down, intersecting with other, even narrower roads. It was illuminated very poorly, the lights ahead were snatched from the darkness only by giant stalactites and stalagmites, in some places closely approaching the asphalt canvas. Past the whistling swept congress on the next side branch with a gravel surface. With him just twisted clanging mine bulldozer, crunching crushing small stones under him. Ruslan, not slowing down, overtook him almost closely, not paying attention to the gravel flying from under the huge wheels of the bulldozer, and then immediately dived down and to the right for an unlighted closed turn.Max frantically clutched at the door handle and thought that either Ruslan is an unknown distant descendant of Schumacher and knows the heart by heart, or there is some kind of trick here. He almost immediately found the interface of the navigation computer and once again was amazed at how conveniently the management of objects on the Martian Internet was implemented: you do not need to turn on the search or install new drivers, just poke into the device icon and it is ready to use. A map of the spaceport neighborhoods was reflected on the windshield, and above the road appeared green arrow indicators with turns with all the necessary explanations: the turning radius, the recommended passing speed and other data. In addition, the smart computer completed the image of closed or poorly lit sections of the road, and, as Max understood, from the movement of oncoming trucks,The image was broadcast in real time.
- Does your autopilot not work?
βIt works, of course,β Ruslan shrugged. - These tracks are one of the few places where you can steer yourself. You know what the problem is to buy a wheelbarrow with a wheel and pedals. I donβt understand the joke of putting a couple of hundred creeps behind the wheelbarrow and riding a passenger. Worse, fucking than non-alcoholic beer and virtual women. Fucking nerds, shove their chips where necessary and where not necessary.
- Yes, the problem ... There is one bearded Moscow joke about unmanned control, the truth is not particularly funny.
- Well, you tell me, che.
- So the husband and his wife are in bed after the fulfillment of marital duties. Husband asks: "Honey, did you like it?" βNo, dear, before you did much better. Have you started another woman !? ββ No, dear, it's just that at this time I was always cutting with the orcs, but my chip coped for me β.
- This is not a joke, - Ruslan grinned. - About some office rats, I do not even doubt. Fuck them real women ... There is, by the way, even a service like this, relatively recently appeared. Called "body control." The chip itself takes you to work and home, for example, and at that time you can drag your orcs as much as you like.
- Is it like a zombie? Eerie, probably, to meet such on the streets?
- Yes, you will not notice anything. Well, there is a cormorant of some kind, well, he is staring at one point, now everyone is like that. A good chip even for questions like: βhey kid, thereβs no smoke,β will answer.
- What progress has reached. Are boxing skills built into these chips?
- Yeah, in someone's pink dreams. Think of it yourself, where does force and reaction come from? There are either some expensive implants or sweats in the gym. This is only in Warhammer: I paid three kopecks for my account and became this, fucking space marines.
- Lousy some service turns out. Who knows what your chip will do for you, who is then responsible for the consequences?
- As usual, read the agreement: broken bread - your personal problems.
βAre there bad areas on Mars?β
βAs long as you want,β Ruslan shrugged, βwhether you know, working in uranium mines does not contribute, uh-uh ...
β βThe formation of a rich inner world,β Max suggested.
- Right. So, that there are a lot of areas patrolled by local gangs, but you just do not show up there and will avoid many troubles.
- These are the same areas? - decided, just in case, to clarify Max.
- The area of ββthe first settlement for example. This type of gamma zone, but in fact there is high radiation and low oxygen. Local scumbags love to replace the lost body parts with all kinds of piercing and cutting.
βIt's interesting that corporations can't figure out these scumbags?β
- How to understand?
- What means how ?! In the underworld, where everyone has neurochip in their heads, what are the problems of overfishing all order offenders?
- Well, this is you - a law-abiding employee of Telecom, has already installed all police applications on the chip. And someone walks with the left chip, and to some contractors of βUranium Oneβ or Minatom, this is basically a flashlight: who got there to work for them. And in general, why to strain for the same Telekom or Neurotek? Shpana from the first settlement will never climb on them. And again, the botany on the segway is somehow not pressing the hand of some adept of free software on his own. Need for this relevant experts.
- And you yourself, by chance, did not come from such an area? - made a cautious guess to Max.
- No, I was born on Earth. But the course of your thoughts is almost true and very unsafe.
- Come on, I need to hurt ... But nerds on segways will not be offended that you are talking about all sorts of nastiness about them?
- They check my actions, and you can talk as much as you like, it doesnβt change anything. What did you think: there is no crime on Mars?
- Yes, I was sure. How can you commit crimes if your chip immediately knocks where to?
- Of course, the electronic court automatically issues a fine and also, it can start a case with an automatic machine, check all the conditions and send to jail. And if you show off much, sew up a minichip that will not just knock, but immediately cut down the nervous system as soon as you try to break the law. I just wanted to run across the road in the wrong place, and my legs fell asleep ... halfway through.
- Well, that's right, I'm talking about that.
- I will tell you a secret: all this to press people like you, honest fraers. Thug with the left chip spit on it. Yes, corporations, of course, could crush crime if they wanted to. But they fuck it is not necessary.
- Yes, why not?
- I gave you one reason. Can you still think about something at your leisure. Imagine that communism has come, all scumbags were sewn up on a mini-chip and they are working for the good of society. Everywhere is cleanliness, beauty, there are no gamma or delta zones, if you are sick - get on your health, lose your job - live on welfare. Here is who then will forever gorbitsya until the loss of pulse. Everyone will relax and horseradish put on eggheads with their segues. But when there is a prospect to become homeless in the delta zone, where there is nothing to breathe, or to go on an exciting tour of the concentration camps in the Eastern Bloc, here you run. That is what some in Moscow can not sit? Why are they happy to break their ass for the sake of bosses from Telecom, who donβt even consider them as people?
βYou are clearly going to force you,β Max said indignantly, waving his hand. - Imagine some conspiracy theories, it is clear that under them you can fit any facts.
βOkay, I imagine conspiracy theories.β And you, apparently, imagine that you have got to the country of elves. You yourself will live, you will see, in a year we will see which of us is right.
- In a year, I myself will become the boss in Telecom, and then we'll see.
- Come on, of course, I am against something, - Ruslan sighed. βDon't forget, if anything, who picked you up from the spaceport.β Only now dreams are all this ...
- Well, dreams, not dreams, but if you spend your whole life in a soft place, then nothing will come of it.
- You seriously decided to join the party of these Martians?
- What is special? What makes me worse than them?
βThis is not a matter of worse or better.β This is such an elite club for their own. Outsiders are not allowed there for any merit.
- It is clear that the leadership of any transnational corporation is to some extent a closed club. You would see what family clans occupied any more or less bread places in Moscow. No elitism, one primitive wild Asiatic: they do not care about anything at all, except for the animal desire to grab more and faster. In any case, the first step on Mars is still better than to rivet primitive sites in Moscow. Maybe even earn money.
βYouβll earn more money in Moscow on primitive websites.β Only now you came here obviously not to become a petty boss by the age of forty and save up for a flat in the beta zone. You just do not tense up again, but do you think the first one with such burning eyes rode here? Here such dreamers are a wagon and a small truck, and the Martians have learned very well how to squeeze all the juices out of them.
- I already know that I have to work and not all types come to success, someone breaks off, but what to do. Do you really think I don't understand anything?
- Yes, you're a smart guy, I did not want to say anything, but you do not know the system. And I saw how it works.
- And how does it work?
- Itβs very simple: at first they will offer you to work as a simple admin, or a coder, then they will slightly increase the salary, then maybe they will be the boss to feed the new arrivals. But they will not give you anything really cool, or they will, but they will take all the rights for themselves. And all the time it will seem that just about, you are almost in the tus, it is worth a bit of pressure, but this is an illusion, a deception, the glass ceiling is shorter.
- I am aware that the majority rests on the glass ceiling. The whole difficulty is to be among the lucky few who have made it.
- There are no lucky you understand. The policy is - not to take strangers.
- I do not see the logic in such a policy. If you do not let anyone in general, then all, as you say, horseradish put. Why strain if the result is known? If you donβt play videos with happy millionaires, then no one will buy lottery tickets, right?
- Here you will draw any videos. No Neyrotek by the hand does not catch.
- Do you want to say the Martians fool everyone?
- Yes, not really, they are not stupidly cheating, they are just very cleverly cheating. Okay, I'll try to explain ... So you got yourself in Telecom and the service of the staff got you a personal matter. The file is there, where all the data that it was possible to collect, including school analyzes, and the entire history of requests and visits from the chip, will be carried. And according to this data and according to your current activity, the program will follow, when what to tell you, when to increase, when to increase, so that you do not fall into the sunset. In short, they will constantly keep a carrot in front of their nose.
- You are right all smear black paint. Well use neural networks to analyze personal data. Well, yes, there is little pleasant of course, but I donβt see any tragedy either.
- The tragedy is that if you are not a Martian, then you will share your problems only with this neural network. It's completely, like ... a formal procedure, living managers for you in half a century and the words will not say. For them, you are an empty place.
- As if Moscow is not an empty place for some INCIS. It is clear that first you will have to pay attention to yourself, so that the Martians will begin to spend time discussing my career prospects.
- Well, you do not understand in kind. This is in Moscow or at worst in some Europe, you can take part in a race with a crowd like you. And even if nine out of ten prizes are already taken by someone's bros or mistresses, you really can claim to be tenth. But there is absolutely nothing to catch on Mars, even if you are a genius a thousand times. Martians have long figured out all the people and allocated a personal digital stall to everyone ... Well, fuck, in short. Everyone makes their own choice.
- I would even say: everyone sees what he wants to see.
βStrange security service of some kind of Telecom,β Max thought wearily. - What did he want to achieve, so that I flew back to Moscow and lived there happily? Well, yes, weβll rather repair the roads at home and stop taking bribes, itβs wiser to believe in it than in good intentions of this type. Rather, he is having fun. Or is it really connected with some kind of mafia and sees only the dark side of the city of Tula β. But still, the doubts of Max began to gnaw at Max's soul: βAnd the truth is, why should Telecom look for specialists in provincial, compared to Thule, Moscow? But on the other hand, was it not for the sake of a bad joke that they dragged me so far, paying for the expenses of the trip? In any case, money for a return ticket while there. But why then did I spread this talk? Do not share with anyone else? There is some rational grain in his chatter.Here's how to understand in the world of virtual reality: do I build a career with neural networks, or do I communicate with live Martians? In terms of earnings? But money, however, can be done in Moscow, especially if you are an unprincipled bastard with connections. And here any result is to some extent virtual. A sufficiently powerful neural network easily guesses all my dreams and slips into a cozy world the appearance that they are being realized. Maybe in my heart I am clearly aware of all the unrealizableness of my hopes and, secretly from myself, I never intended to put them into practice. And here there is a great opportunity to see how the ideal world looks. Just look with one eye, itβs not forbidden by anyone, itβs not a vice, not a defeat, so harmless tactical retreat. And there, in the near future, I will definitely start to do everything for real:with one effort of will, I will take and cut the network cable and begin. In the meantime, you can still slit a little bit, a little bit more ... M-yes, that's how it will be: a little more, a little more will stretch over a couple of decades until it is finally late, until I turn into a limp amoeba floating in nutrient solution. - with horror, anticipated Max. - No, it is necessary to tie with these doubts. You have to be like Ruslan, or like a friend Denis, for example. Here Dan clearly knows what he wants and does not soar. And on all sorts of chips and neural networks to him from a high bell tower ... But, on the other hand, is this a real dream? These are just instincts and a harsh vital need. βuntil I turn into a limp amoeba floating in a nutrient solution. - with horror, anticipated Max. - No, it is necessary to tie with these doubts. You have to be like Ruslan, or like a friend Denis, for example. Here Dan clearly knows what he wants and does not soar. And on all sorts of chips and neural networks to him from a high bell tower ... But, on the other hand, is this a real dream? These are just instincts and a harsh vital need. βuntil I turn into a limp amoeba floating in a nutrient solution. - with horror, anticipated Max. - No, it is necessary to tie with these doubts. You have to be like Ruslan, or like a friend Denis, for example. Here Dan clearly knows what he wants and does not soar. And on all sorts of chips and neural networks to him from a high bell tower ... But, on the other hand, is this a real dream? These are just instincts and a harsh vital need. β
βAlmost arrived,β Ruslan said, slowing down by an artificial tunnel going sharply up the hill, βnow we will pass the gateway and rush into the city.β Do not forget to activate the pass.
- And what was this zone?
- Epsilon.
- Epsilon ?! And we are here so calmly dissect, it's almost open space.
- I know, the oxygen content is not normalized, high levels of radiation? Do you have children?
- No ...
- Then bad.
- What is wrong? - Max got worried.
- Yes, just kidding, nothing will wither away. In this car, as in a tank: a closed atmosphere and radiation protection, and more light suits in the trunk.
βYes, the spacesuits in the trunk in case of a serious accident will surely save our lives,β Max said, but Ruslan paid no attention to his irony.
Without delay, they passed the old gateway and drove to the motorway acceleration lane already in Tula. Ruslan relaxed back in his chair and gave control to the computer. In any case, on the Tule motorways, where the maximum speed was limited to a fantastic two hundred miles per hour, computer decisions took precedence over any driver actions. Only the road computer was able to safely drive at such speeds in a dense stream. The Martian transport management system deserved the most generous praise, it was enough to choose a destination and the system itself selected the best route in time, taking into account the forecast of the route load on the intentions of other users. If it were not for her, then Tula would undoubtedly suffocate in traffic jams, like many earthly megalopolises.
Max admired the work of the harmonious mechanism of the road system from a bird's eye view on an interactive map of the city. Sparkling streams of cars flowing through traffic intersections reminded the circulatory system of a living organism. Heavy cargo and passenger platforms obediently trudging in the right rows, high-speed cars rushed to the left. If someone rebuilt, the rest of the movement, obediently slowing down, missed him, almost teasing bumpers against each other. No one climbed forward with dangerous overtaking, did not cut, all maneuvers were performed in advance with perfect speed and accuracy. Multi-level interchanges were built everywhere: no traffic lights were required. With a grin, Max thought that at the sight of such a spectacle, any Moscow traffic cop would have let a tear out of emotion. Although, no, rather from disappointment:wherever a sober, error-free computer always manages a corrupt traffic police will obviously remain in the business.
"And the speed could have been less, and the distance between the machines, more than ten or fifteen meters," thought Max, "it remains to be hoped that if any cargo platform fails to control, the system will have time to react, otherwise it will turn out terrible porridge" .
The city had something to admire and besides the freeways. Low gravity and huge underground voids allowed incredible delights in architecture. Tula, who was buried in caves and tunnels and at the same time was all directed upwards. It consisted of some skyscrapers, spiers, towers and air structures with thin supports, connected by a web of transitions and transport routes. Next to each building was a link to a page on the network, if you wish, you could learn a lot about the metropolis. Here is a 200-meter glass ball, as if hanging in the air - this is an expensive club. Inside him are richly dressed people and half-dressed, corrupt young ladies having fun in an augmented reality setting. But a few blocks away, a strict gloomy structure without glass and neon - a hospital and a shelter for the poor,and located in the life-friendly zone "beta". It turns out that civilized Martians are quite ready to share crumbs from the master's table, although it seems that no state will ever captivity any more.
Some buildings, like columns, rested against the ceiling of the caves, around them usually circling a swarm of drones arriving and hurrying away. In such buildings housed fire, environmental and other urban services. Not being too lazy to look at their page, Max discovered that these columns actually perform the function of supporting structures, protecting the natural arches of the dungeons from collapse. The measure is rather preventive, there is no particular tectonic activity on Mars: the bowels of the red planet are dead for a long time and do not bother people. But, but it is full of other problems, and with ecology: spores of ancient bacteria are constantly found in stones, and with radiation: the natural background, even in depth due to the high concentration of radioactive isotopes, is several times higher than on Earth.Therefore, the main laboratories of powerful corporations were usually located in separate caves, closed from the main city by several levels of protection.
There were also quite exotic pieces of local architecture: where deep caverns gaped in the caverns floor, the towers hung from the ceiling like gigantic stalactites, breaking off into emptiness. From the failures came the rumble of oxygen stations - the lungs of an urban organism. And the role of the conductor of a gigantic orchestra was performed by electronic devices. They easily took care of imperfect human beings, replacing them almost everywhere. Residents of Tula walked relaxed through the fragile high-altitude galleries, swept through the maglevas, inhaled the clean filtered air, and did not worry that they were separated from the instantaneous or painful death by nanoseconds and nanometers of errors that accidentally crept into the thinnest crystals of computer devices.
Of course, for the design of the urban landscape could choose any screen saver. The most popular was the screensaver of the elven city, where the spiers turned into giant trees, waterfalls ran from the walls, and an exotic sky with several suns stretched overhead. Max liked the underground warlock city screensaver more. She was much closer to the real textures of the situation, and, accordingly, devoured less chip resources. Neon advertisements, turned into priestly lights, cast freakish glares on black-and-red rock walls, snatching out of the darkness the translucent strands of precious minerals. And the drones, transformed into elementals and spirits circled in a dance under the arches of caves. The beauty of virtual creations and the beauty of natural dungeons were so closely and organically intertwined that the heart was already sinking. Let her be a stranger and cold, this beauty,Let her evil spirits of a dead planet melted millions of years ago, but her cold attracted her, and her soul was happily forgotten by sweet poisonous sleep. And the triumphant ghosts, laughing wickedly, performed their incomprehensible dance and waited for a new sacrifice. Max looked and looked at Tula, who he so long and passionately wanted to see again, when suddenly, someone invisible and terrible broke the string stretched to the sound and whispered: "Well, hello, Max, I was also waiting for you ..." .someone invisible and terrible broke the string stretched to the sound and whispered: "Well, hello, Max, I also waited for you ...".someone invisible and terrible broke the string stretched to the sound and whispered: "Well, hello, Max, I also waited for you ...".
- Has you fallen asleep? - Ruslan poked his counterpart in the shoulder.
- So ... thought.
- The central office, almost arrived.
Previously, for some reason, Max had little interest in what the headquarters of the main Russian company was. Here is the image of the Neyrotek office - the famous βcrystal spireβ; it has repeatedly stumbled across the net. Yes, and no wonder: the brand, as they say, is untwisted. This spire was located in the crater, covered with the largest and oldest dome Thule, reaching a height of five hundred meters. But most of all, he was famous for the completely transparent and mirror elements alternating in his supporting structures. Through the transparent areas, one could observe the internal life of the corporation as cooks in some restaurants, and the mirror refracts the light in the most bizarre way. This, apparently, symbolized: the complete openness of the company, the cleanliness of the thoughts of its employees and the shining peaks of scientific and technological progress. Generally,Everything was clear with the Neurotec spike, dear, radiant and appealing to the eyes. Of course, Telecom would not be Telecom if it had not tried to measure Neyrotek with the size of towers. And where there was not enough height and sparkle, Telecom was getting points with scale and scope. The enormous reinforced concrete structure with the base went into a deep failure and by the upper floors rested against the arch of the cave. A worthy example of Gothic architecture was surrounded by a ring of smaller towers, which stretched to each other from the bottom and the ceiling of the dungeon, coolly resembling a toothy maw. By analogy, the central building of Telekom symbolized the complete closeness of the company, especially for any foreign sales freaks who call themselves the βfourth estateβ, well, with thoughts so everything is clearand delays in the development of scientific and technological progress were easily compensated by the βbig clubβ inherited from the late Russian Empire.
Ruslan readily assumed the role of guide. Probably, at the sight of a dear to the heart architectural tool of intimidation of competitors, some patriotic feelings awakened in it.
- Have you seen how we got settled? Narrow-eyed already envied everything.
βNeyrotek what? Surely, soon they will die of envy. " - Max's mental skepticism almost didnβt appear on his face.
- This is the underground part of the central pylon of the power dome. You must have seen them from the terminal. The power dome was never brought to mind, but the capital facilities were useful to us. Here you can even sit out a nuclear war, not like in a glass nesting box. Am I right?
Ruslan turned to the interlocutor for confirmation of his words and Max had to urgently confirm:
- My house is my fortress.
- Exactly. There can be no better protection than inside the support. Even if the cave collapses completely, the structure will survive. Soon you will see for yourself how good it is here ...
"Yes, - Maxim cringed, - now you cannot get to anywhere." As soon as he thought this, the gigantic mouth swallowed a small four-wheeled shell.
October 18, 2139 Latest news.
Today, at 11 o'clock local time, INKIS Corporation applied for full membership in the Consultative Council of Martian settlements. The application was supported by voting members of the Council: Telecom-ru corporations, Uranium One, Mariner heavy industries and others. Thus, the application was supported by 153 full votes with a mandatory minimum of 100 votes. This issue is on the agenda of the regular session of the Council, which opens on November 1. In the event of a positive vote on their application, INCIS will receive one full vote and the opportunity to submit draft resolutions through the office of the Council. At the moment, a representative of the INCIS Corporation in the Council has limited observer rights. Also INCIS announced an additional IPO of its shares with an estimated value of about 85 million creeps.
The news was complemented by a video where workers in spacesuits were dismantled from the Orion, Ural, Storm and Viking pedestals, which faithfully served for many years and then guarded their last home port. Allegedly, this was done only in order to send the old ships to the Mars exploration museum, where it would be easier to ensure proper storage conditions. βYeah, that's what we believed,β thought Max, irritably. Judging by how hasty and barbaric work was done, new exhibits will arrive to the museumβs vaults in a fairly shabby form, if they are not previously disposed of under another plausible pretext. Most of all went to the "Viking". Awkward workers shattered the entire thermal protection when the ship was loaded onto a ramp. The whole process: piles of fragments scattered across the sand, and hideous bald spots were captured in a series of expressive photographs.In short, INKIS was quick to listen to the wishes of the Consultative Council.
Max mentally wished the corporation bosses to earn a couple of purulent boils from overly diligently licking Martian asses and went on to watch the next news.
Unrest continues on Titan. After the brutal suppression of demonstrators, accompanied by numerous arrests of violators, the situation is still far from being resolved. Supporters of the so-called Quadius organization advocate the creation of an independent state on Titan, where radical reforms of copyright laws will be carried out and state support for software development projects with a free license will be provided. They accuse the protectorate of political repression and secret killings of dissent, and also threaten to respond to terror with terror. So far, the henchmen of the βorganizationβ βquadam β fail to realize their threats, their only achievement is petty hooliganism and hacker attacks. Despite this, the Titan protectorate police forces have already introduced heightened transport security,industrial enterprises, life-support stations and in medical institutions. Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.life support stations and in medical institutions. Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.life support stations and in medical institutions. Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be decided. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be decided. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.submitted to the Consultative Council and tries to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.submitted to the Consultative Council and tries to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.
βWow, what's going on in the solar system. - Max thought, lazily scrolling through the news site. - Some crazy decided to start on this frozen satellite, really crazy, apparently the latest brains froze ... The independent state on an isolated satellite, completely dependent on external supplies, thought up to me too, but crush them in two accounts. There is no escape from a submarine when there is liquid methane around the lake. - Max quite logically considered the plans and demands of the demonstrators absurd, but refusing to apply the same logic to his own dreams of transforming Mars. - And Neyrotek suddenly became a champion of democracy and human rights. Not otherwise, I decided to chop off the production assets of a recent ally. "
Max, for the sake of interest, looked at the logo of the mysterious "organization" left on the hacked sites: a blue diamond, the right half of which was painted over, and on the left half of the all-seeing eye flaunted. Then he went on to view the next news.
Telecom has announced an increase in the access speed and size of file storage for all users of its network, due to the launch of a new supercomputer cluster on superconductors to optimize data exchange. The company thus promises to completely eliminate the known problems of a wireless connection. Telecom, in response to such customer complaints, has always referred to the lack of a private resource allocated to it, and submitted requests to the Commission of the Advisory Council on the Electromagnetic Spectrum. In fairness, it is worth noting that the frequency resource allocated to Telecom is only slightly inferior to the resources allocated to the two other largest providers, Neurotech and MDT. And in terms of the ratio of the allocated frequency band to the average number of users, Teleom-ru is far ahead of its competitors,which indicates a poor optimization of the existing resource. The new supercomputer is designed to eliminate this long-standing problem. Also, Telecom announced about the imminent launch of a new data center and several repeaters for fast communication. The company expresses confidence that the quality of its services will not yield to the βbig twoβ now. Now a full-fledged βbig threeβ has emerged on the network services market, Telecom claims. Company representative Laura May kindly agreed to answer our questions.Now a full-fledged βbig threeβ has emerged on the network services market, Telecom claims. Company representative Laura May kindly agreed to answer our questions.Now a full-fledged βbig threeβ has emerged on the network services market, Telecom claims. Company representative Laura May kindly agreed to answer our questions.
Tall blonde, with a type of glamorous diva since the golden age of Hollywood, she dazzled her smile, showing readiness to answer any questions. She had curly hair up to her shoulders, a big chest and large, not quite perfect facial features. But she looked at the world with a slight grin and even a challenge, and a hoarse voice added her some kind of animal magnetism. Her skirt was a little shorter, and lipstick a little brighter than her status demanded, but she didnβt worry about it at all and every intonation and gesture seemed to provoke the audience to doubt its moral stability, without having ever crossed a fine line of formal propriety. And quite official victorious reports of Telecom in its performance sounded very promising.
βYeah, when they promise you unearthly connection speed with such a voice, anyone will run faster to draw up a contract,β thought Max. - Although, who knows what it really is, what language it speaks and does it even exist? Maybe female users see some kind of brutal macho β?
Laura, meanwhile, bravely repelled attacks against her native syndicate.
- ... We love to stick labels that our services are cheaper, but less quality and reliable, and allegedly we use outdated network sharing technologies. Although the full immersion and all the main types of services we have implemented for a long time, some problems arose only because of the general network congestion and only in the wireless connection. But now, after launching a new supercomputer, Telecom will provide quality services at the same price, markedly lower than that of competitors.
- And how would you comment on the dumping by Neurotech and MDT on the part of Telecom? Is it true that Telecom uses revenues from its non-core assets to keep a low price for network services?
- You understand that low price does not always mean dumping ...
βWhat a great fellow our Telecom,β Max thought irritably, closed the site window and plopped down on the sofa. - So cares about customers, and about employees too. Medical insurance, relaxation rooms, career management - everything except normal work. Well, let me, I would not be allowed to go to the superconducting core. I am ready to learn, and even with the development of peripheral devices would definitely cope. My place in the development, but not the service of operation. No wonder that in the Moscow branch I was a systems architect, and now who am I? In the short term, the optimizer of the tenth category in the channel separation optimization sector, which in turn is part of the network operations service, is a great start to a brilliant career. A little reassures only, then that all categories for would-be programmers already fifteen.The main thing what a dizzying career growth still awaits ahead - as many as nine categories! Although, yes, the consolation is very weak. Damn, how much can be about the same "!
Max cursed and in the same family underwear proceeded to the kitchen. It is foolish, of course, to scroll the same situation a hundred times in my head, especially when nothing can be changed, but Max couldnβt stop: yesterdayβs conversation with the head of the sector in which he was to work, knocked the ground out of him feet. Therefore, he led endless polemics with himself, shuffling and inventing new compelling arguments and, time after time, forcing the mental adversary to capitulate. Unfortunately, imaginary victories had no effect on the real situation. On two main questions: "who is to blame?" And "what to do?", Max did not find the answer. More precisely, he came up with an answer to the first question: his new friend Ruslan was to blame for everything, he cried, the cattle, he could have sewn up his mouth, but the next steps to correct the situation were extremely vague.
Max, of course, understood that the new post was an unpleasant surprise only for him. It is unlikely that everything was decided exactly yesterday. But he felt his share of the blame in what had happened. He was still in Moscow could not clearly agree where to take it on Mars. The phrase that the position will best fit his competence, the arbitrariness of service personnel, strictly speaking, did not limit. It turns out that there is nothing to complain about. Only that I wanted to go to Mars so much that I was ready for any conditions.
And yesterday, as they say, nothing foretold such a terrible outcome. Ruslan landed a fellow traveler in a parking lot near the central office, promised to organize a tour around the hot spots of the city of Tula, if he suddenly got tired of sitting in virtual reality, and drove off somewhere further, hiding in the depths of a huge building. Max lowered a bit, downloaded the guidebook and went to meet fate, following the friendly rabbit in a vest. It was, like, such a telecom chip, a replacement for a standard one that lights up in front of the nose, signs.
Max is not particularly in a hurry. I went first to the service staff, passed the DNA test, underwent other checks and received the coveted service account, one of the main gingerbread, which was lured by the employees of the provider company. Any, most ordinary of admins, but with service access, by default, is a hundred times better than a VIP user who paid big money for his tariff. The world has changed a lot since the advent and rise of the Internet. Now it is not known what is better: happiness and luck in the real world or in the virtual, because they intertwined so closely that it is almost impossible to separate them, just as it is to determine which of them is more real. Yes, most people were not even interested in: what is it, this unknown real world from the legends of the pre-computer era,already ill-imagining life without pop-up tips and universal translators - a life where you need to learn foreign languages ββand ask passers-by for the way to the library. Many didnβt want to learn to type. Why, if any text can be slandered, and in the light of the latest advances in neurotechnology, and read directly, through the thought team.
With Maxβs service account, there was a slight hitch, it was necessary to reinstall the old operating system on his chip, but the problem was resolved relatively quickly. The manager was dismayed, looking at his medical card, in which the chip model was clearly outdated, according to Martian standards, but nevertheless gave a direction to reinstall the system in a corporate medical center. Then there was the social service, where Max was politely informed that, of course, Telecom provides service housing to any employee, but the alien origin, or any other circumstances, does not affect the fact of provision: this is the company's policy. In general, Max abandoned the free tiny room in the industrial zone "gamma" and decided to settle in a rented hut in a more decent area. So, grandly noble, he visited several more divisions,some in the flesh, and some with a virtual ghost, filling out various forms along the way, or receiving instructions. Thanks to the successful implementation of such light quests, Max was already quite relaxed, to the final point of his journey - the office of the head, he came up in a complacent-confident mood. The office turned out to be equipped with a serious bioprotection: instead of a polite greeting in the gateway, a cold shower of disinfectants was waiting.instead of a polite greeting in the gateway, a cold shower of disinfectants was waiting.instead of a polite greeting in the gateway, a cold shower of disinfectants was waiting.
The owner of the office, Albert Bonford, was a real Martian in the full sense of the word. Obviously, his foot never set foot on the sinful Earth: the usual force of gravity would undoubtedly break this fragile creature like a reed. Tall and pale with bleached hair, he wore a gray checkered suit with a light tie. The martian's eyes were large, dark with an almost indistinguishable iris, either by nature or by contact lenses. He was reclining in a deep chair with a motor-wheels and a lot of some connectors, folding tables and even a long arm with a manipulator sticking out of the backrest. The promised segways apparently went out of fashion. The Martian's obvious predilection for possessing the latest achievements of cybernetics led to the formation of a whole bevy of flying robots around his person.They were in constant motion and winked meaningfully at the LED lights. They brewed tea, coffee to visitors, shook dust from the host, well, and just enlivened the atmosphere in the room.
βGreetings, Maxim,β the Martian printed in the unfolded messenger, without turning his head to the person who entered and without changing the facial expression. βI'll be free in just a couple of minutes.β Come in, sit down. β A similar chair came up to Max, but without unnecessary bells and whistles and manipulators. βGood,β Max typed in response and for some reason duplicated his meaningless remark aloud, apparently from excitement. He really, in those first minutes after seeing a live Martian, was greatly alarmed. No, Max was not a xenophobe and thought he was absolutely indifferent to the appearance of other people. But, as it turned out, it concerned only people, even if they were smelly punks or goths, but communicating with anthropomorphic creatures that are not very similar to you is a different matter. βHere, what a real neuman you are,β Max thought then, hardly swallowing a dry lump in his throat.βTomorrow I'll sign up for the gym and will be exhausted there until I lose my pulse,β he promised himself horrified, watching the bird's movements of the Martian's head, planted on a long, thin neck. Max at that moment downright physically felt the calcium being washed out of his bones, and they become brittle, like dry twigs. And Max did not really want to work under the authority of such a creature. He didnβt immediately like something with the first, with the first, so to speak, printed letter.And Max did not really want to work under the authority of such a creature. He didnβt immediately like something with the first, with the first, so to speak, printed letter.And Max did not really want to work under the authority of such a creature. He didnβt immediately like something with the first, with the first, so to speak, printed letter.
In addition to the bevy of crafty robots and Albert, there was still a gray mirror-polished table, chairs and two aquariums built into the opposite walls. In one aquarium, they soothingly opened their mouths and waved fins to some large bright fish and looked at the opposite wall in bewilderment, where thick double glass, in a bath of liquid methane, trembled web-like colonies of polyps from Titan. After a couple of minutes, Albert woke up, and his eyes found an iris, having overtaken even more horror at Max.
- So, Maxim, I am glad to welcome you as a new employee of sector 038-113, - the Martian's lifeless politeness did not at all dispose to him. - I was also informed that there is a small problem with your neurochip.
βOh, no problem, Albert,β Max answered quickly. - I will reinstall the operating system within the next week.
- The problem is not in the axis, but in the chip itself. For each position in my sector there are certain formal requirements, including the characteristics of the chip. Unfortunately, you can only qualify for the post of optimizer programmer of the tenth category.
- Claim? - Max confusedly asked.
- You will be finally enrolled in the state after you pass the probationary period and pass the qualifying exam.
- But I was counting on the position of developer ... Rather, even a system architect ... So we sort of agreed in Moscow.
- System architect? - Martian barely restrained mocking smile. - You have not studied the service manual? My sector is not engaged in project work as such. Your work will be associated with databases and training of neural networks.
Max began frantically flipping through the documents.
- Sector channel separation optimization?
Max fidgeted in his chair, starting to get nervous. "And, well, I'm a fool, I did not even figure out what was hidden behind the faceless number of the sector to which I was sent."
βThere must be some kind of mistake here ...
β The personnel service is not mistaken in such things.
- But in Moscow ...
- The final decision is always taken by the central office. Do not worry, this work is fully consistent with your qualifications. You have also been given three months of probation for retraining, then an exam. I think, given the excellent recommendations, you can handle it faster. The problem with the chip is also quite solvable.
- The problem with the chip now worries me the least.
βThat's fine,β apparently irony, like other stupid emotions, was alien to the Martian. - You leave for work the day after tomorrow, all instructions for working mail. If you have questions you can contact the service staff. And now I'm sorry, I have a lot to do.
The Martian turned off again, leaving Max completely at a loss. He sat for a little more time in front of the stationary body of his superiors, tried to say something like: βI apologize, but ...β, but he did not achieve any reaction. And, before gnashing his teeth, he went out.
βYes, all Martians are liars. And what could be done in such a situation? - Once again, Max wondered, sitting in a tiny kitchen and sipping synthetic tea to taste. - Specifically, in that, of course, nothing, just initially it was necessary not to relax. More substantively speaking all the conditions back in Moscow, and not sit nodding like a Chinese dummy for the joy of being sent to Mars. But on the other hand, yes, I would have been turned in the same place. Well, then I went to the service staff and what? The manager sent me just as politely, said he was not authorized to resolve such issues, but I can always leave a request to the senior management and it will contact me without fail. Well, yes, they will call me soon, they will say that an annoying misunderstanding has occurred and will be appointed a system architect for some new supercomputer. Generally,The obvious logic suggests that in such a situation I can only slam the door and dump it from Telecom. And this means that, most likely, you will have to forget about Mars forever. It is unlikely, given the local draconian order, I will find another job here. β But the mere thought of abandoning the possibility of living on Mars caused such terrible disappointment to Max that he drove her away with a filthy broom. βSo there is no choice, you have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to forget about Mars. It is unlikely, given the local draconian order, I will find another job here. β But the mere thought of abandoning the possibility of living on Mars caused such terrible disappointment to Max that he drove her away with a filthy broom. βSo there is no choice, you have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to forget about Mars. It is unlikely, given the local draconian order, I will find another job here. β But the mere thought of abandoning the possibility of living on Mars caused such terrible disappointment to Max that he drove her away with a filthy broom. βSo there is no choice, you have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.
From the household work he was distracted by the message from Masha. βHello! Still, it's a pity you left. More precisely, I am very glad that you could get a job in Tula, but it is a pity that you left without me. Please tell me how are you doing at work, I hope everything is in order? How are bosses? Real Martians, look like your grandmother told you: pale, skinny, with thin hair and similar to huge underground spiders? Just kidding, your famous grandmother loves to lie. But you please still eat calcium and go to the gym, but I'm afraid, after arriving in half a year to find something from my grandmother's stories.
You promised to immediately find out in Telekom about a temporary visa for me. I would have come even for a couple of weeks, I know that the tickets are expensive, but what to do: I also want to look at this wonderful city of Thule. I have already collected the documents, there are no problems, only an invitation remains. Can it still be better to come for any tourist package, despite the fact that they are very expensive? Or maybe you no longer want me to come. I found some martian girl, itβs not for nothing that you were so drawn to this planet. Just kidding, of course. β
βOh, I was so upset by this freak with his aquariums and chairs that I even forgot about the invitation to Masha,β thought Max sadly.
βAt home, everything is fine, I saw your mother. At the weekend I will go to the country to help my parents. Also, when I cleaned accidentally, I touched one of your ships, the one that is the healthiest, I donβt remember what it was called, but I didnβt break anything, I checked. And in general, it is high time to take these toys somewhere to the garage, they only occupy a place. β
βMyβ Viking β, but not this! She didn't break anything, Max thought skeptically. - So I believed, yes, in principle, you will not notice if you break something in the model. He asked not to touch, is it really that difficult? β
βI would like to know how you are going to have fun in your free time?β There should be so many cool places on Mars, please send me more records, otherwise your desert landscapes are somehow not impressive.
I wait, I hope, when you take me to Mars. And, honestly, the messages are, of course, cool, but a quick connection is still better. Maybe the same forked? You now earn a lot of money in Telecom.
And maybe all the same to Paris somewhere we fall down, eh? To dream of the city of Tula, you have to be like you. I would, Max, something simpler: Montmartre there, the Eiffel Tower and warm quiet evenings in a small restaurant. I honestly do not really understand how we will live on this Mars. In the same place, probably, it is impossible to take a walk in the park under the handle, there are no parks there either. And you will not admire the stars, and the full moon, no romance. In general ... in vain, I started it again, everything has already been decided.
I do not know what else to tell, nothing much happens at home, so boredom and routine. Oh, yes, if you did not appreciate my efforts with the letter, then maybe you will appreciate my new underwear in the second file. All right, bye bye. Think fast, please. β
βShe bought the underwear, I hope only for me,β Max was on the alert. - And, really, what the fuck I rode away, leaving everything. So our relationship will not last long. And the parks, the stars and the lunar path on the mirror smooth surface of the water are available here, only they are slightly virtual. β
Yes, unfamiliar things rarely appear as we imagine them. Max knew that there is no justice in the world and rich, powerful corporations are doing arbitrariness, but he sincerely did not expect to become a victim of arbitrariness.
Max knew that with the Martian eco-service the jokes are bad, but he could not even imagine such ecological totalitarianism. In most of the clothes brought with him, he could flaunt only at home in front of the mirror, she did not meet local dust generation requirements, and the gateway of her own house did not allow her to go outside. And the detectors installed in the gateway would not have allowed to bring illicit drugs, weapons, animals, and automatically reported to the police about such violations. Moreover, the βbig brotherβ also reported to the insurance service if a person came home in a state of narcotic or alcohol intoxication, or was sick. Of course, there were no penalties for this, but all these cases were carefully entered into the personal history and the price of insurance was slowly increasing. The Martian "smart home" turned out to be worse than the most grumpy wife.
Max knew that life in Tula was expensive. Cheap food grown in a test tube tasted like the nutritious compost it was growing on, and real food was expensive. And housing, and utilities, and transportation and life-giving oxygen - all very expensive. But Max believed that the increased costs more than offset the salary in Telecom. But it turned out that the salary was less than promised, but life is more expensive. Most of the money immediately went to insurance, tariffs, payment of a tiny twenty-meter apartment, and even it was not a question of buying a car or seriously putting something off.
Max knew that virtual reality is akin to a new religion, but he did not imagine how much all the thoughts and aspirations of the Martian inhabitants move around the virtual axis. And in Max's tiny apartment, a considerable area was occupied by this altar of a new all-absorbing cult - biovanna for complete immersion. Biovanna on Mars is the center of the universe, the concentration of the meaning of life, the gates to other worlds, where orcs defeat elves, empires collapse and revive, love, hate, overcome and lose everything. There is now real life, and outside it is a faded surrogate. Oh, the source of unearthly pleasures, touching your cool metal side, like a throat in the desert, countless salespeople, builders, miners, guards, women and children, exhausted in schools and workplaces.They raise a look filled with longing where the sky should be and pray to the Martian deities for the imminent end of the shift. For someone, Biovanna is an expensive, complex complex with thermoregulation, hydromassage, droppers and medical equipment, allowing to spend weeks and months in it. Some basically do this: they spend their entire conscious life swimming in saline, because most intellectual professions have long been allowed to work remotely. Yes, what can I say, you can get married and, in principle, even have children practically without getting out. Two spouses, weeping in flasks opposite each other - an ideal Martian family. For someone who is not so familiar with virtual values, Biovanna is really just a bath filled with warm fluid with an oxygen mask and a few simple sensors. But,she was absolutely everyone, without her life on Mars is not. At Max, in view of the outdated neurochip, this equipment was mostly idle. Therefore, he often had a lot of free time, which he could spend on something useful, but usually did not spend.
It's been almost two months since Max arrived in Tula. He reinstalled the operating system on a chip, received a full-fledged service account and an orange admission to the Telecom's internal networks. Gradually, his life entered a band of gray, monotonous everyday life. Alarm clock. Kitchen. The outside. Job. Although a quarter of a century has not yet passed, the persistent feeling that the cycle repeats and will last forever did not leave.
He tried to regularly send letters to his mother, once spoke to her on a fast connection. Mom was sitting in the newly renovated kitchen. A robot cleaner, dressed in a cheerful turtle jacket, rumbled into her dark window under her feet, at home in a dark window, the first snowstorm of the year. The conversation began quietly and peacefully with mutual questions about life, then Max unobtrusively tried to find out what happened during his first trip to Mars in early childhood. For some time now, reflections on what had caused him to drag himself so far away have become very intrusive. Probably, before and there was really no time to think about it. But on Mars, paradoxically, and the time was found, and the desire to delve into their cockroaches. Max realized that he didnβt have any childhood memories before this trip, so there are some scraps, although he was ten years old.And he barely remembered the trip itself - also solid fragments. But after the already bright, distinct pictures, as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.But after the already bright, distinct pictures, as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.But after the already bright, distinct pictures, as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.and then another child abruptly arose, possessing a very not childish persistence in attaining a completely non-child goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.and then another child abruptly arose, possessing a very not childish persistence in attaining a completely non-child goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.
New job in Telecom Max absolutely did not like. There was no real programming in its current activity: so monotonous collection of the database and training of the neural network, which was engaged in optimizing the load and traffic on a particular site. In the first week at the new location, Max fully felt what it means to be a cog in the system and an appendage to his neurochip. Five thousand programmers in the optimization sector alone, tightly packed, like semiconductors in a crystal, in long halls filled with access terminals to the internal network. The neural network and the database with which he worked was just a small part of the supercomputer life cycle management system. How the rest of the system worked, Max did not know. Only limited functionality was available to him within his modest competence,Yes, and then while in the educational version. A set of various situations and options for responding to them was prescribed in the most detailed job descriptions, it was strictly forbidden to deviate from them. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.A set of various situations and options for responding to them was prescribed in the most detailed job descriptions, it was strictly forbidden to deviate from them. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.A set of various situations and options for responding to them was prescribed in the most detailed job descriptions, it was strictly forbidden to deviate from them. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.retreat from them is strictly prohibited. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.retreat from them is strictly prohibited. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.
Max also learned that all the inhabitants of Mars and the indigenous and those who came from other planets, except for adherence to any network provider, are divided into two large groups: βchemistsβ - who like to keep molecular processors in mind, and βelectronicsβ, respectively, fans semiconductor devices. The two groups waged a permanent holy war among themselves over which chips were better. M-chips were better integrated into a living organism, and semiconductor ones were more versatile and productive. Albert Bonford, the head of the optimization sector, was a typical βchemistβ who was fanatically obsessed with purity and panicked when any foreign molecule was detected in the surrounding air. And the βelectronicsβ were no less obsessed with electrostatic protection, in attacks of paranoia fearingthat some overly negative or positively charged individual will arrange a breakdown in their thin-film brains. Chemists surrounded themselves with flocks of detector robots, and electronics ionized the air around them, wore special electrically conductive clothing and antistatic protection bracelets. Both were afraid of physical contact with other living beings. Probably, individuals lived and prospered somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their own advantages and trust the built-in protection, but for some reason, Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.while the electronics ionized the air around them, they wore special electrically conductive clothing and antistatic protection bracelets. Both were afraid of physical contact with other living beings. Probably, individuals lived and prospered somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their own advantages and trust the built-in protection, but for some reason, Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.while the electronics ionized the air around them, they wore special electrically conductive clothing and antistatic protection bracelets. Both were afraid of physical contact with other living beings. Probably, individuals lived and prospered somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their own advantages and trust the built-in protection, but for some reason, Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.Someone lived and hello somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their advantages and trusting the built-in protection, but for some reason Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.Someone lived and hello somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their advantages and trusting the built-in protection, but for some reason Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.
All these difficult circumstances superimposed on a small cultural shock, Max received from familiarity with the Martian network standards. Previously, he didnβt really think about how the Martian networks achieve such data exchange rates in order to ensure the operation of all virtual lotions, such as cosmetic programs without glitches and brakes. Neurochip itself, being only an interface between the human brain and the network, of course, did not have the necessary power to run complex applications. Therefore, in the Martian networks, emphasis was placed on the speed of information exchange, so that the user could use the power of network servers. To ensure the reliable transmission of all these peta and zeta bytes between millions of users, Martian wireless communication systems have evolved into something incredibly complex.No tricks in the form of compaction and separation of radio channels have not helped for a long time, so in the underground cities to the limit not only the entire available radio frequency spectrum was clogged, but also the infrared and even crept into the ultraviolet. That what led to the presentation of special requirements even to the lighting and advertising signs. In general, the next Martian golem - the EMC Commission, committed at least as much as the others. And he could easily pick up for some non-certified flashlight.In general, the next Martian golem - the EMC Commission, committed at least as much as the others. And he could easily pick up for some non-certified flashlight.In general, the next Martian golem - the EMC Commission, committed at least as much as the others. And he could easily pick up for some non-certified flashlight.
Wireless repeaters in Tula were almost everywhere. From stationary: on the towers and ceilings of caves with a multitude of active antennas, to the simplest microrobots that cling to the walls of houses and caves like parasitic fungi. Managing the diversity of antennas, their coverage areas, taking into account the level of scattering and reflection of signals from multiple surfaces was one of the functions of the new supercomputer. Under its vigilant electronic eye, numerous repeaters sent signals where required with a given frequency and level, without interfering with each other, led users during their chaotic movements around the city and promptly transmitted to neighboring devices. Accordingly, users received a quality picture without brakes. Having received the first idea of ββhow it all works, Max, of course, lost confidence thatthat will cope with the design of such systems. But he didnβt smile at all to spend the rest of his life as an appendage to his neurochip. In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.But he didnβt smile at all to spend the rest of his life as an appendage to his neurochip. In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.But he didnβt smile at all to spend the rest of his life as an appendage to his neurochip. In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.βGeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ, that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.βGeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ, that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.almost like on a conveyor belt. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.almost like on a conveyor belt. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.
Some variety was made on duty every two weeks, when optimizers stupefied by endless databases went to work in the field: to fix minor faults in network equipment or optical cables. It was possible to refuse from duty, but Max grabbed hold of them with joy, as did many of his colleagues.
Usually, all the duties also looked like one another - Max and his partner searched for the failed microretranslator and replaced it with a new one. However, this quiet, not demanding special efforts and skills work became a kind of outlet in an endless series of monotonous everyday life. Also, as Max didnβt like to teach neural networks under the guidance of the Martians, he simply liked everything for some reason, as a simple installer. I liked his partner - Boris, with whom he shared optimizing bread in Telecom. They worked in the same hall, behind the neighboring terminals, and also went on duty together. Boris said that the meaning of the duties assumed by Telecom as a tradition is certainly not to compensate the company for the lack of low-skilled workers. And the fact is to get acquainted with the work of different departments of the company and team up.Apparently, a particularly clever manager from the personnel service came up with a duty, from the category of those who come up with all sorts of "exciting" corporate gatherings, which can be officially passed, but in practice it is not recommended.
Max did not like managers, and who loves them, but he liked this particular idea. βAnd from these hrenosos there is sometimes a benefit,β admitted Max after the first duty. Boris also contributed to the success of such an event. Calm, not talkative, with a philosophical and relaxed outlook on life. Boris is a short, slightly barrel-shaped lover of beer, network RPGs and unrealistic tales about Martian dwellers, their way of life and customs, was a bit like a gnome, that is, a dwarf, as he did not get tired of specifying, and always played back the appropriate character in his favorite online shows. . He also carried with him everywhere a weighty backpack with a full-fledged emergency kit and, for any irony, did not tire of seriously repeating that, in which case, he would survive alone, and the rest would die in agony. But in his magic backpackexcept for relatively useless oxygen cylinders, there were always beer and chips, so Max didnβt really make fun of it.
He and Boris, without saying a word, chose tasks in the most remote corners of the underground city. In just eight working hours, three tasks had to be accomplished, which was not a problem, even if it was slow to travel by public transport. Max liked to travel and liked the trains, so he got real pleasure from duty. Usually they took place as follows: a meeting with a partner at some station and then a gradual movement in gently swinging trains or fast-moving maglevs. Transplants at crowded central stations or the long wait for rare trains at dull tiled stations somewhere in the depths of distant dungeons. In the huge city of Tula, there was no generally accepted center, and there was not even a building system, it just crawled into the natural emptiness of the planet,like a chaotic cluster of stars in the sky. Somewhere there is a jumble of bright spots merging into one blinding spot, and somewhere a darkness of industrial areas, interspersed with rare lights. And the subway map Thule differed enchanting complexity. It resembled a masterpiece of an insane spider, which was woven around certain areas by a dense multi-level network, and somewhere left a single thin thread. In the evening before the trip, Max did not deny himself the inexplicable pleasure to turn a three-dimensional map, imagining how tomorrow he would float past this ball-shaped cluster of points, then through a thin line, somewhere overlooking the surface of the planet, he would fall into a cluster that looks like a fat, blurred blot, where to perform the first task. And you can get to the blot in another way, a little longer and with transfers,but passing through the frighteningly interesting area of ββthe first settlement.
The endless city of Tula, passing by, struck by its contrast: the empty gray-concrete rows of boxes in the gamma and delta zones gave way to freakish heaps of towers covered by a network of paths and platforms clogged by people with fiber optic fibers to ensure reception. transmission of light signals. Some adherents of fashion trends prefer elegant decorative umbrellas. People with funny umbrellas and hats seemed to Max to look like aliens with antennas in children's drawings, and, passing by Thule, their presence was only more like phantasmagoria. Martian cities never slept, in the dungeons the change of day and night is not visible, so everyone lived according to the time that was convenient for him. All institutions and organizations worked around the clock, and the streets were full of traffic at any time of the day.
Usually, they finished one or two bottles of beer with Boris before the first mission. Accordingly, the first task was carried out quickly and in high spirits, the second, in principle, too, with the implementation of the third already had some difficulties, so at last they tried to leave the easiest task and closer to home. Often, Max was silent and barely spoke to Boris, although Boris kept trying to tell some local bike, but seeing that his partner responded with monosyllabic phrases, he didnβt particularly press. Boris was the person, next to whom Max was completely comfortably silent, for some reason it seemed to him that he had known Boris for ten years already, and this trip was at least the hundredth. Max looked out the window, sometimes pressing his forehead to him, slowly sipping his beer and reflexively something like this:βI was a strange person - I wanted to go to Mars so much that I rushed like a clockwork toy, almost without interruptions for sleeping and eating. And here I am on Mars and what happens: I donβt need any work anymore, no career, I have completely lost the craving for all this running, as if a toggle switch had been switched. No, of course, I will do obviously the necessary things, such as passing qualifying exams, but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.And here I am on Mars and what happens: I donβt need any work anymore, no career, I have completely lost the craving for all this running, as if a toggle switch had been switched. No, of course, I will do obviously the necessary things, such as passing qualifying exams, but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.And here I am on Mars and what happens: I donβt need any work anymore, no career, I have completely lost the craving for all this running, as if a toggle switch had been switched. No, of course, I will do obviously the necessary things, such as passing qualifying exams, but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.
Very often, during the trips of Max, thoughts about his incomprehensible dream of transforming Mars were visited, and Ruslanβs predictions about what he couldnβt make here had no career. "That's my whole Martian dream - to come to Mars, to understand that there is nothing to catch and relax." - thought Max. To share doubts, he turned to Boris, who seemed to be a man of reasonable and sophisticated experience:
βHere, Bor, you seem to know everything about local life.β Explain to me what the thing is - the Martian dream?
- What do you mean? Martian dream as a social phenomenon or a specific service of some companies.
- Is there such a service? - Max was surprised.
- Well, yes, you fell off the moon? Any child knows about it, although advertising this crap is officially banned - Boris explained with the air of a connoisseur. - Like if you have not achieved anything in life, have become disillusioned with it, and generally, if you are just a stupid loser, then you have one road to the Martian dream. There are special offices, which for a relatively modest fee, are ready to create a whole world in which everything will be as you wish. With your brain a little pokolduyut and you completely forget that the real world, in principle, exists. You will happily plop in your cozy matrix while you have money in your personal account. There is a light version of this drug shit, you can enjoy your own world for a couple of days, without therapeutic amnesia, such as going to a resort. But, you know, the pleasure version is not complete from the light version, it is not always possible to cheat,first of all, myself.
- And how do these light versions differ from the usual full immersion?
- There, the type is much steeper, you can not tell at all from the real world. They use clever m-chips and supercomputers to simulate all sensations.
- And how can the notorious losers take advantage of the Martian dream, is it, after all, probably quite expensive?
- Oh, Max, well, you really fell from the moon, more precisely from the Earth. Well, supercomputers, m-chips, so what? Virtually sunbathing on the Canary Islands is still a hundred times cheaper than flying there on a spaceship. Think about it yourself, life in Biovanna has a lot of advantages from the point of view of expenses: you donβt take a lot of places, food through an IV line, no expenses for transport, clothes, entertainment, yes, if you use the standard world from the providerβs catalog, then the Martian dream will be available to everyone. Even working as a waiter in an eatery, you can save for the Martian dream, provided that you rent a kennel in the βgammaβ zone and eat nutritious briquettes.
- What is it that turns out: somewhere in the depths of the red planet there are huge caves from top to bottom filled with rows of biowans with human beings inside? Come true means anti-utopian fantasies.
- Well, maybe everything is not so apocalyptic, but in general, yes, it is. There are definitely a lot of customers of the Martian dream. But they themselves have chosen it. In the modern world you are absolutely free in your choice, while it makes a profit to corporations.
- I had another culture shock, - stated Max, swallowing beer almost in one gulp.
- What's so shocking? Many people from other planets, undermining some money, go for the Martian dream. By the way, visas are issued to them without any problems at all, and unlimited tariffs are even partially compensated. Sorry, there are no social benefits on Mars and in the cities of the protectorate, and there are no fewer drunks, abandoned old people and others who did not fit into the market. Therefore, they are disposed of in such a relatively humane way, what's wrong with that?
- Yes it is a nightmare. This is very unfair.
- Not fair? The contract stipulates the conditions quite clearly.
- Not fair, in principle, to give such a choice. Man, as we know, is weak, and some things cannot be chosen.
- That is better to die painfully from alcoholism?
- Sure. If this path has already fallen, then we must go through it to the end.
- You, Max, turns out to be a fatalist.
- And the unlimited tariff is not really limited in time?
- If there is enough dough to pay for storage services for interest on the deposit, then the tariff will be really eternal. They can even remove the brains and put them in a separate jar. Brains on artificial support seem to be able to function for a couple of hundred years.
- I wonder how many such dreamers on Mars? From them really get electricity?
- Xs, Max, look better ask the neurogogla how many of them and what of them receive.
- I wonder what the process of concluding a contract looks like?
- Max, you scare me, I see you are not really interested in this filth. Play better in warcraft for example. Or thump in the end.
- Do not worry, so idle curiosity. But all the same, you come to the office and say: βI want to become a rock star in America of the sixtiesβ, so that wild popularity and screaming fans at concerts. Well, they say to you, here is a special annex to the contract, describe in it in as much detail as possible what you want to see.
- So it is, probably. Only own dreams are really expensive, the more original the more expensive, the norm-hour of the Martians is worth a lot. Usually they offer to choose from the standard set: a billionaire, a secret agent, or, for example, a brave conqueror of a galaxy on a spaceship.
- Suppose the brave conqueror of the galaxy, and then.
- Yes, I did not use this filth, I invent it myself ... Well, let's say further, so that it would not be boring for you to conquer the galaxy for decades, you will save the most beautiful woman from the clutches of evil aliens. And you, apparently, will be asked what kind of women do you prefer: brunettes, blondes, with the second size or with the fifth ... well, or, men.
- And if you really do not know?
-What do not know women or men? - Boris was surprised.
- Yes, no, if you yourself do not exactly know what you are dreaming about and cannot describe it, naturally assuming that you have enough money for a personal matrix.
- Once there is money, they will bring an experienced shrinking authority and it will pick out all the hidden desires from your unlucky head. Unless, of course, you yourself then will not be afraid of what you got. I think in the case of a Franz Kafka, this would not be a dream, but a living hell.
- To each his own, maybe someone would like to turn into a terrible insect.
- Do you know perverts in the world? What are you, you really do not know what you want?
- Yeah, that's my main problem.
- I hasten to assure you that you have some artificial problems.
- What can you do, a simple person has simple desires and motives, and a person with a complex organization of the psyche, you can see, is a complete grief from the mind. I still, among other things, am afraid that the Martians can unravel me before me. After all, they are not engaged in fruitless self-digging, but they are utilitarian and pragmatic in approaching any problem. That's why I imagined the phenomenon of the Martian dream in a completely different way.
- And how?
- Something like special supercomputer systems in the depths of the largest provider corporations, which are focused on deciphering human personalities on the history of their activities in the network. They gradually unravel what a particular user wants and unobtrusively slip into his virtual world what he wants to see in real life.
- What for?
- Well, why, so that a person would think that everything is fine and not twitch. Well, to zombie, suppress, and then scoff at the stupid people and get free energy from them. After all, any self-respecting Martian corporation should deal with this. Or, at the worst, to convince to shove another newest, most advanced uberdwais into the distressful brain.
- What are your difficult conspiracy theories on the surrounding reality. Relax, the world is simpler. Of course, the advertisement will be parked for you, but is there something to be guessed about ... What the hell is it for the poor people?
- Yes, it is so, rather inspired by the words of another person. What do you think about the Martian dream in a social sense?
- Beautiful fairy tale. In order to preserve their overwhelming intellectual advantage, the Martians draw with their tales all the best forces from the solar system and here they are drained into the toilet, in stupid jobs like a programmer-optimizer. At home, these home-grown intellectuals could and could do something useful.
βHa, it means that you are no stranger to the thought that the Martians are to blame for everything,β Max grinned.
βWhat to do is a convenient explanation,β Boris shrugged.
They were silent for a moment. Frozen, reddish landscapes of the surface rushed monotonously past. Behind Boris from time to time the gentleman, who shamelessly staked three seats at once for rest, shrank up a homeless kind.
- Yes, it turned out strange. - Max broke the silence. βApparently my Mars is a castle in the sand.β His first encounter with reality washed him away, leaving no trace.
- You know, you are worse than any Martians for yourself. Think better of real issues.
βAnd this tells me a devoted warcraft fan and a level 80 dwarf.β
βDwarf ... well, I'm a lost man, and you still have some hope.β
- Why is it immediately gone?
- The fate is not easy.
- Share?
- But hrenushki. The situation is not the same, the mood is not that. I have been calling you to sit somewhere for a long time: I know a couple of great bars, inexpensive and atmospheric, and you still invent left excuses. After work, you see, he canβt, get up early tomorrow, and on weekends he has some work to do, preparing for exams.
βNo, Iβm really getting ready,β Max said uncertainly.
- Yes, yes, I remember, you gnaw capital work: "The general principles of channel separation in wireless networks of Telecom." And how are you doing, mastered a lot?
βSo far, not very ..., and whom am I kidding,β Max confessed dejectedly.
- What has changed his mind to make it into the system architects?
- Old Max, Moscow school, would never have stopped a measly two thousand pages, but the new Max stalled something.
βYeah, all these dreams and self-digging only soften the will to win,β said Boris, importantly. - And even in the service of the staff did not visit?
- Come on. The manager is so interesting there. It seems to be a Martian, but a small growth, like an ordinary person. Although still a freak: skinny and huge head. And somehow he is a little bit livelier than his fellows, it looks more like a person, and not like a robot.
- Arthur Smith?
- Do you know him?
- I donβt drive personal acquaintance, but Iβm drawing a line in Telecom a long time ago, many interesting personalities have already become familiar. His eyes are still so big.
- Yes, yes, just the same huge eyes, also gray, moreover, and all Martians are usually black. This "white crow". He honestly explained that they would not take me as a leading expert, if only because of the old neurochip. Like, considering my age, installing a professional chip and most importantly learning how to work with it will cost the company a lot. The company can go to such costs, but only for the sake of particularly distinguished employees.
- I know one bike about this Arthur.
- Tell me.
- Rather, not even a bike, but gossip.
- So tell me.
βI won't,β Boris shook his head. βSheβs also not very decent.β If I had heard such a thing about myself, I would not be happy.
- Bor, you're just a sadist of some kind. I first mentioned the bike, then clarified that it was gossip, and then added that it was also dirty gossip. What, he got drunk on a corporate party and performed an incendiary dance on the table?
- Fi, such banal stories I would not have thought of telling, - Boris grimaced, - especially the Martians, as far as I know, do not drink alcohol.
- Let's tell already, stop breaking.
- No, I will not. I say the situation is not the same, the mood is different, after three or four glasses of rum with Mars-Cola, please always. Moreover, you did not appreciate my previous bike.
- Why did not appreciate. Very curious story.
- But ... - But
what?
- Last time you added "but."
βBut implausible,β Max threw up his hands.
- What is implausible in it?
- Yeah, the fact that the evil Martian corporations are sleeping and seeing how to get into everyone's soul, do you not believe? And the fact that the entire network is a kind of semi-intelligent substance, such as a living ocean, which gives rise to virtual monsters that swallow users ... Is this all true truth?
- Of course, true, I saw it with my own eyes. Yes, look at some of our colleagues, they have long become shadows, I'm sure.
- And who among our colleagues has become a shadow? Gordon can?
- Why Gordon?
- Too enthusiastically licking ass Martians, leading programmer fucking. Only presentations do and know how.
- Yes, no, Max, the Martians have nothing to do with it.
- That is, your digital Solaris, no matter who to eat, people or Martians?
- The network doesn't eat anyone on purpose, you didn't listen to me at all in my opinion. A shadow is something that is a reflection of our own thoughts and desires, but does not have any particular physical medium or piece of code.
βA digital god to worship and sacrifice?β
- Just not necessary. Shadows are born only by people themselves. So you think that the network will endure everything - all stupid, nasty requests, entertainment, and you will not get anything for it. In virtual reality, you can torture kittens with impunity or dismember little girls. Yeah, well! Any request or action on the network casts a shadow. And if all your thoughts and desires revolve around virtual entertainment, sooner or later this shadow will come to life. And then excuse me how you behaved, so will the shadow. If the real world is so boring and uninteresting, then the shadow will gladly take your place while you are having fun online. And you will not notice how the shadow will become real, and you will become its ethereal slave.
- Yeah, apparently your shadow looks like a gnome in mithril armor with a beard to the navel.
βHaha ... You can laugh as much as you want, but, I answer, once I saw my shadow.β I did not go to full immersion for a month.
- And what did this terrible shadow look like?
βHow ... a dwarf with my features.β
- Oh, Borya ...
Max choked on beer and for some time could not cough and laugh.
- Dwarf with your features! Maybe you accidentally looked in the mirror? .. Forgot to turn off makeup before that?
- Yes, you go! - Boris waved his hand and opened the second bottle of beer. βYouβll finish until the shadow appears, then thereβs no laughing matter.β
- Yes, I am not going there to dive with you, nor to get into it. All these warkrafty and harborian eras do not drag me too much.
- To do this, it is not necessary to gamble, to spend a lot of time in full immersion, no matter what the purpose And you know what you can not do in any case?
- And what?
- In a dive, in no case can you fuck bots.
- Seriously? Maybe porn can not watch. Yes, half of the users for the sake of this latest chip upgrades and biovanna order.
- They do not understand what they are doing. Any strong emotion helps the shadows to be born, and sex is the strongest emotion.
βThen everyone would create these shadows.β Or at least would go with hairy palms, if you believe the older version of this bike.
- And maybe yes, who knows how many shadows live among us? The shadow will have access to all of your memory and personality while you sit in virtual slavery. How to distinguish it from a real person?
- Yes, nothing - shrugged Max. - Modern bot is difficult to distinguish. Just some tricky logical questions. And the evil, revived neural network, generated by the evils of human nature ... there are no options. Maybe we are the only two true people, and all around are some shadows?
- The digital apocalypse is inevitable if people do not think again and do not stop breeding trash, waste and sodomy on the Internet.
- Sect already smacks: βRepent, sinnersβ! In my opinion, some people spend too much time on dragging all orcs, in the words of one acquaintance, so they begin to see shadows and other glitches.
- Bore you Max. Any legend is based on something ...
- Please forgive me, - the awakened bomberate gentleman suddenly interrupted Boris, - but the subject of your conversation seemed to me so interesting ... Will you allow it?
Without waiting for an invitation, the newly formed friend climbed closer to them. His face: thin, wrinkled and overgrown, betrayed a battered life of a man who clearly has no money for cosmetic software. A modest wardrobe consisted of torn jeans, a T-shirt and a worn jacket from which a dirty gray sintepon was climbing out. βAnd where does the environmental service look?β - thought Max. βIt feels like this mutated Greenpeace has been following me from the ramp of the shuttle, but the guy across is at least a henna.β However, Max didnβt feel much of an amber, so he didnβt show his discontent with his new neighbor.
- Let me introduce myself: Philip Kochura, for Phil friends. Currently a free-wandering philosopher.
βWhat an elaborate euphemism,β Max said sarcastically.
- Classical education makes itself felt. Sorry I did not hear your name, my friend.
- Max. At present, a promising scholar who has escaped from corporate slavery for a day.
βBoris,β Boris reluctantly introduced himself.
- Do not allow to taste your refreshing drink? Thirst completely exhausted me.
Boris glanced at the uninvited friend in annoyance, but took a bottle of beer from his backpack.
- Much grateful. - Phil paused for a moment, sticking to the freebie. - So, with regard to the conversation that was accidentally overheard, I apologize for the intrusion a second time, but it seems that you, Maxim, do not believe in the shadows?
- No, I am ready to believe in anything, if they are presented at least some evidence?
βWell, if you want to believe, if you want to, no, but I saw a real shadow come to life and talked to her.
Boris vigilantly guarded the backpack from Phil's further inclinations. The skepticism written on his face, perhaps, would have been envied by a paleontologist who had entered into an argument with a creationist, as if he himself had not reproached his companion with an annoyance a moment ago.
- Tortured virtual kittens? Well, the road is far, go ahead, tell me, - Max agreed easily.
- My story began in the distant 2120 year. It was a terrible time: the ghosts of the collapsed states still roamed the Solar System. And I, young, strong, not at all the same as now, was eager to fight with omnipresent corporations. Then they released neurochips with the option to disable the wireless connection. Such chips allowed a lot to an intelligent person. In those years, I had a great understanding of the intricacies of illegal work. Now, of course, no one is confused by the initially closed architecture of all axes, as well as the constantly open wireless ports on the chip. You know that ports 10 to 1000 on a chip are always open.
βThank you, we know,β Max confirmed.
- Do you know why they are needed?
- To transfer service information.
- Yeah, besides service information, a lot of things are transmitted through them. For example, the development of cosmetic software has long been agreed to also use these ports. Otherwise, if you use the usual ones, then it is enough for normal people to install a firewall and the clients of these offices will appear in their original form. But most importantly, everyone, in kind, does not care that they have taken away the right to privacy ...
- This is very sad, true. We regret the loss of privacy, βMax said deliberately with an ingratiating voice.β But you were about to tell you about the shadow that had come to life.
- I am leading to that. Is it possible to soak a little throat? - asked Phil, showing an empty bottle and carefully turned in the direction of Boris, but he came across a prickly look, which did not bode well - No, well, okay. So, when you are captured by some kind of ambitious goal, you rush forward, like a pony horse. In the days of my youth, I was such a galloping horse. When rushing without breaking the road, the world around trembles and floats in a reddish fog, and the words of reason drown in the roar of hooves. I thought that everything was on my shoulder and I could run in the shortest way to the goal. But the ancients correctly said that a real samurai should not look for easy ways ...
- Listen, buddy, I understand you are a philosopher and all that, but is it possible to quickly get to the bottom.
- What are you, Max, hung his ears at all, - Boris got up irritably, - found someone to listen to.
- Okay, Bor, let the man finish.
- Well, I ran, it means, without sorting the roads, and then the lasso was thrown around my neck and dragged down from the slope. And so quickly and unexpectedly, as if I were a limp rag doll. And the fall began, it would seem, with utter nonsense: I was given an important task, and for the sake of conspiracy I had to become for a while an inhabitant of the Martian dream ...
- So you were in the Martian dream? - Max perked up. - Tell me, what does she look like?
- So in a nutshell not to describe. I have been there many times. At the moment, for the past two years in strings. But recently, a good sum has broken off for me, so I will soon find myself there again. For a full five-year plan, there are literally not enough pairs of creeps. In the lousy reality, the Martian dream is like a beautiful bright dream. The details are remembered with difficulty, but I really want to go back. Just a little bit, and this smelly train and our conversation will turn into an unpleasant, but harmless dream there ... Damn, my friend, my nature was dry in my throat, it was already tearing. - Phil eagerly stared at the magic backpack.
- Bor, treat our friend.
Boris addressed Max a very expressive look, but he shared a bottle.
βSo, in the Martian dream, do you still remember real life?β
- ... Yes, there are different options, - Phil did not answer right away, to start with a pretty sip of the healing elixir. - If the memories cause intolerable discomfort, they will be relieved of them, no problem, but only when buying an unlimited option. I didnβt have that kind of money, so I have to be content with traveling for three or four years. On short and medium trips, amnesia is prohibited, otherwise how to return you back. But local shower engineers came up with a cunning psychological effect. In dreams, reality seems blurred half-forgotten dream. Like, you know, there are such nightmares in which you end up in jail, or you throw up exams at the university. And then you wake up and with relief you realize that this is just a nightmare. Here in the Martian dream about as well.You wake up in a cold sweat and exhale fuf ... the lousy reality is just a harmless dream. True, there is a small side effect: the dream itself on returning acquires the same features.
- Strange, is there any impression, or say a guided tour, of value, if you practically lost the memory of her? - asked Max.
βHe has, of course,β Phil answered confidently, βI remember how good I was.β There is also a common option to wipe the memory selectively, so that the Martian dream develops as a continuation of a previous life. It seems to live as he lived, but luck suddenly turns his face, and not his usual place. Suddenly you discover an incredible talent in yourself, or you become successful in business, you earn a lot of money, you buy a villa on the coast, women give any, again. Any deception: everything that has ordered comes true. And you will not feel a dirty trick either: the program deliberately throws up various obstacles that must be courageously overcome.
- And if you order the victory of the anti-Martian revolution throughout the Solar System, and yourself in the role of a leader, driving Martians to filtration camps, where they are barbarously removed by neurochips?
βYou can even poison them in gas chambers, at least build communism,β laughed Phil. - Guys who sell dreams, indulgent to the fads of customers.
Boris also considered it necessary to comment:
- And you thought someone had a business with regard to the political convictions of down-dreamers. It is not enough in the world offended by the brutal arbitrariness of corporations. You are not the first, not the last, who wants to carry out a revolution and build communism.
- What makes you think that I want it? - Max shrugged.
- From the fact that he had already lifted his own conversations about the Martian dream. Do you want bomzhe on cars too?
- What are you angry, Bor?
- Yes, what is this aggressive bias? - Phil was offended a little. - All thumps, hang out all day in online games, but when they see a harmless dreamer, they mob with hypocritical reproaches. You are angry at yourself, but you are tearing evil at others. We only go a little further than the average man in the street. And, mind you, we do not do anything bad to anyone.
- Blah blah blah, standard nagging. Nobody loves us, does not understand ...
βIn short, don't pay attention, Max,β Phil continued. - In fact, if you donβt touch your memory, then the dream doesnβt differ from the online games, or from the same social networks, except for the duration of your stay. In the standard world from the catalog, there will be living people around, you can even hang out with friends there. You can join someone's personal dream, it will be cheaper, but you have to accept that the owner of the dream will be some dictator-emperor there. In general, the options are different.
βBut the end is always the same,β Boris stated. - Complete social maladjustment and progressive sclerosis from your psychological effects.
βThey are not mine ... But the memory is fine,β Phil agreed suddenly. - Yes, and return, of course, every time more and more difficult. Lousy reality is not waiting for us with open arms. The world changes every time in jumps and after three or four trips you score on attempts to catch up with what's what. You plow like a robot to save for another year or two. Often, patience is not enough, you break down, really not having earned anything ... - Phil was already rather tired after a couple of bottles. Boris waited his hand fatefully and gave the third one.
βIf only I shut up at last,β he explained, βthis, by the way, is the last.β
βI'll buy it on the way,β Max promised. βI cannot understand one thing: why not hang out in the Martian dream without any amnesia and side effects.β Then it will turn into a fairly harmless entertainment.
βIt won't turn,β Boris snapped. - Whatever dreamers and providers are not trying to do about harmlessness and similarity to ordinary online games, they themselves know perfectly well that without psychological effects, this whole undertaking completely loses its meaning. The Martian dream was invented to create the illusion of a happy life, and not to overwhelm the monster and get another level-up. And happiness is a fragile thing. This is a state of mind, we are not entirely primitive animals, which for happiness will be enough for an unlimited amount of money and females. And in the Martian dream, such prosaic things as public recognition and self-esteem are impossible without complete or partial amnesia.
βYou know the topic, uk,β Phil said. - You know what makes the brain in a moment. From a personal dream, no matter with full or partial amnesia. I saw one cupcake, which was taken from a personal dream. He turned some scam there to pay, but it was revealed. I spent only four years there, but the sight was a pitiful ...
- More pitiful than you?
- Yes, okay, Boris, do not drive. I have everything under control. I'm not a fool, I understand what should be the right trip. And with that cupcake, the dream was like a paradise, everything falls from the sky and it is not necessary to move a finger. Type of surprises from the environment in the spirit of call-response, so the consciousness is degrading with a fucking speed. Yes, and in view of the complete inadequacy, real people in his cozy little world did not risk appearing. Some bots had fun with him. In fact, a bot can be easily distinguished from a person, if you know what to look for. It seems to me that no one keeps such uporotyh for too long. So, they would spin Kintso for about ten years, until the brains were finally softened, and then they poured the contents of the biowany down the drain and started the next one, ik, and Phil foolishly giggled.
- You see, Max, laid out the whole truth-uterus.
- Yeah, well done what. A provocative question arises: if the Martian dream cannot be distinguished from reality, then maybe we are there. How can I, for example, understand that Phil is not a software bot?
- Why is it me - a software bot? I'm not a bot, uk.
βDraw him a captcha,β Boris suggested. - Or ask your cunning logical question.
- Phil, repeat the third word in just that phrase.
- What?- Philip blinked.
- Similarly, the bot, or shadow. We actually started a conversation with this: like, you met a lively shadow somewhere. Can you tell me all the same, where did you find her?
- In the Martian dream, of course.
βYeah, thatβs the place for them,β Boris agreed, slightly tempering his skepticism towards Phil.
- Hey, Phil, do not sleep, come on. Tell me about it.
Max shook the peeping philosopher's nose.
- Well, I generally consisted of the organization Quadius. He was an ordinary quad and performed various tasks throughout the Solar System. Received all instructions, deciphering messages of the user with the nickname "Kadar" in one social network. I almost never saw my comrades, knew nothing about who led us, but I believed that we were close to victory and the total power of corporations would soon collapse. Now I understand what stupid things have led to, and how much our fluttering up to the lantern Neurotek also was.
- So what, that is stupid, but the struggle for a just cause. Everything is better than just merging from the real world.
- Better, I agree.
- And how did you get to your life today?
- How did you get, how did you get, let them sleep already, - Boris was eager to finish the conversation. - The rubbish on which he sat down causes a strong psychological dependence. Once you have tried it will not jump.
βI didnβt go there myself the first time,β Phil began in a slightly justifying voice. - The first time I was sent there to get some important information, and then as a courier to deliver it to Titan. Information is pumped into the brain using a hypnoprogram, and then only the one who utters the code word can get it. Hearing the correct code, the courier falls into a trance and accurately reproduces what they have downloaded into it, even if there is a meaningless set of numbers or sounds. Information is stored directly in the neurons, and you yourself do not have access to it, and there is no artificial carrier that can be detected. I do not know how to do this trick, but it is very safe from the point of view of secrecy. Even if the courier is captured by Neyrotek, they will not achieve anything from him.
- And this Quadius can be seen technically savvy, - said Max.
- Yeah.In short, I had to get the information in the Martian dream. The organization often used the dream as a safe place to meet. There, after all, has its own network, not connected with the Internet, and even its own physical interfaces, such as m-chips. Corporations need to specifically bother to get in there. Is that the admins of the Martian dream themselves accidentally logs look. But usually everyone doesnβt care what customers do there.
- And your organization was not afraid that the brave quads can inadvertently get the feeling of frequent meetings? - Max asked.
- No, I was not afraid. And I was not afraid, but we had a great goal ...
- Well, did you see the shadow coming to life? - Max persistently asked, seeing that Phil is trying to glue the flippers together.
- Saw.
- And what does she look like?
βLike a dumb Nazgul in a black ragged raincoat with a deep hood.β Instead of her face, there is a tangle of inky darkness in which piercing blue eyes shine.
- And where did you get that it was the notorious shadow? In the Martian dream you can certainly look like anything.
- I do not know what it was: a complex virus, embedded in the software of the Martian dream or real artificial intelligence. I am only sure that it was not a person or a service bot. I looked into those eyes and saw myself, my whole life at once, all my pathetic memories and dreams of winning over corporations. All my future, even this conversation was in those eyes. I can never forget them ... now my life has no other worthy use, except to serve as a shadow, without it it doesnβt make any sense ... Then I heard the order and immediately chopped off, and when I woke up, the shadow disappeared.
βYes, it looks like this shadow will cripple immature minds,β Max shuddered.
- Phil, rise. Next is what? What is the order?
- Deliver a secret message to Titan. They come to certain places every day for three weeks and wait for the one who comes for the message.
- You completed the task? Has anyone come?
- I do not know, I did everything as the shadow ordered. If someone came, I could forget about it. I only remember that I was in the frozen hole for three full weeks.
- Is the message still inside you?
βProbably, but, believe me, it is no longer available than Alpha Centauri.β
βI did everything as the shadow ordered,β Boris put into words the maximum degree of sarcasm he was capable of. - And you did not think that you just had a dream. A small side effect of the abuse of digital drugs.
βIβm saying that I didnβt abuse anything.β However, maybe you're right, I just had a dream. Huddled around in the lousy reality a little more, I realized that both the world of free software, and the victory over corporations, I just saw, and I was always an ordinary stupid dreamer. Now I donβt even have confidence that Quadius organization exists, that non-corporations played cat and mouse with us. What was I supposed to do? I returned to the world where my struggle was real. Then, of course, he tried to quit, stayed for about five years ..., but, of course, he broke ... And then it went, and it went ...
Phil finally exhausted and closed his eyes.
- Max, do not tereby him, please, let him sleep already.
- Let him sleep. Sad story.
βSad nowhere,β agreed Boris.
Max turned to his reflection in the window. Another dreamer stared at him out of the darkness rushing past the tunnel. βYes, the modern world is saturated with the spirit of solipsism, and my head is crammed with its confused creatures,β he stated. - The trick of the Martian dream is not even that it delays, like a drug, the trick is hidden in its very existence. Suppose you achieved what you wanted in this life: you planted a tree, raised your son, built communism, but you will have no confidence that there is no illusion around ... β
The train slowed down at the station, interrupting the smooth flow of thoughts with the hissing of the doors being opened.
- Isn't this our station? - Boris came to his senses.
- Damn, grab the bags!
- Where and chips where?
- Oh, you forgot the most valuable. Hold the door.
- Hurry, Max, this is not Moscow, for βhold the door,β then a sickly fine will be sent.
βIβm running ... Bye Phil, if you will in our reality, we can meet together,β Max finally pushed an accidental fellow traveler, and ran to the exit, unnaturally jumping high at every step, a recent arrival from Earth affected.
Max tried to quickly get out of the head of the hapless revolutionary and his sentimental stories. But, constantly, it was worth a little distraction from the routine of everyday life, his thoughts returned to the same direction. And in the end, one fine evening before the weekend, brewing synthetic tea in a tiny robotic kitchen, when, in principle, you could do something useful, but you could score for everything, Max could not stand it and called. He agreed on everything, made a prepayment and made an appointment tomorrow morning. It is known that the morning of the evening is wiser, but, unfortunately, in the morning, having jumped out of bed, Max did not even think about anything. With his head clean and empty, like a balloon, he went to meet his dream.
At the reception of the corporation "DreamLand" sat the secretary, having fun changing visual images. Now she turned into a glamorous blonde, then into a burning oriental beauty. But, seeing the client, immediately threw these nonsense and invited the manager - Alexei Gorin. He was quite the usual balding middle-aged man, and not some sleek, shiny hog, exuding fake goodwill on top of a poorly concealed intention to push. In response to Maxβs nervous joke about where to sign with blood, he smiled politely and said that he didnβt need to hurry and left, leaving the client alone for a few minutes with himself.
Perhaps this five-minute doubt and rescued Max, at the last moment carefully re-weighing everything and assessing the possible consequences, he refused. However, the price of a two-day dream, given the problems with the old neurochip and the need for an urgent refinement of the standard program in accordance with its own whims, was also impressive. And literally after a few minutes, crouching on the steps in front of the building, swallowing ice-cold mineral water, Max felt that he was awake from delusion. Unconscious collective visions of the magic city of Thule no longer came to him in restless dreams. A little ashamed of his own stupidity, he diligently and forever forgot about the Martian dream and thanked all the gods together that they grabbed his hand at the last moment, sending a bit of doubt and elementary greed. With the mere thought ofas far as random and blind reasoning kept him from an irreparable decision, he was thrown into cold sweat. Well, it's okay, because they judge for their actions, not for their intentions.
Having banished from thoughts the absurd ghosts generated by the lack of inner strength to resist the temptations, Max felt much more confident. What previously seemed unattainable was suddenly clear from the fog of abstract reflections on the meaning of being and turned into a purely technical problem. Max stubbornly and hard climbed the career ladder. First up to the system engineer projects. At first, he was, of course, healthy with complexes because of the apparent intellectual superiority of the Martians over ordinary people. Both eidetic memory, and the fantastic speed of thought, and the ability to solve in the mind a system of differential equations, greatly impressed an unprepared person. However, over time, it became apparent that the abilities of a seedy computer were even more impressive. The whole trick wasto combine this computer with neurons in the head and learn how to manage it mentally. Traditionally, it was believed that an adult no longer possesses the necessary flexibility of mind in order to fully perceive serious modifications of the nervous system. But Max was exhausting himself with long, long workouts, like a man re-taking steps after a serious spinal injury. He himself was amazed where did so much dedication and faith in success come from, because the first ten thousand steps were awkward and similar to torture. Gradually, Max ceased to feel inferior among the Martian elite.like a man re-doing steps after a serious spinal injury. He himself was amazed where did so much dedication and faith in success come from, because the first ten thousand steps were awkward and similar to torture. Gradually, Max ceased to feel inferior among the Martian elite.like a man re-doing steps after a serious spinal injury. He himself was amazed where did so much dedication and faith in success come from, because the first ten thousand steps were awkward and similar to torture. Gradually, Max ceased to feel inferior among the Martian elite.
After productive activity as a system engineer, Max was entrusted to represent the interests of Telecom in the Advisory Board. Thanks to him, Telecom, together with INKIS, very fruitfully participated in the further development of the planets and satellites of the Solar System. Over time, the inconvenience of the Earth as the main material and technical base of civilization became apparent. The deepest gravity well increased too much the transportation costs, and all the same resources: energy and mineral, were abundant on the minor planets and asteroids. Mankind gradually moved to outer space, the first terrestrial cities appeared on Mars, covered with power domes, the planet terraforming process was in full swing,and the project of creating a new interstellar spacecraft was in the air and Max felt himself involved in this rapid progress.
As soon as life priorities were set and the path to them passed through the shortest distance, time flew as if in an accelerated survey. It would seem a strange paradox: for someone who is absorbed in his beloved for days, time often flies by. And when family concerns are mixed, then the years go by in minutes. So twenty-five years flew in one moment. Weeks and months flew like lines of infinite program code, scrolling down with the key pressed. Before my eyes, endless lines were sweeping up, and under this accompaniment Max gradually turned from an ordinary person into a pale Martian sitting on a levitating platform. With the final chord, doubts and worries disappeared in his huge black eyes, and running lines of code were reflected in their place. He also married Masha, transported his mother to the red planet,brought up two children, Mark and Susan, who had never seen the earth or the sea, but, by the way, the children did not regret it. They were the children of free space.
βYes, how quickly time flies, as if yesterday I was nibbled in a small rented apartment on the outskirts of the beta zone deep underground, and today I sip tea in the kitchen of my own mansion in the prestigious Io area of ββMariner Valley,β Max thought. He finished his tea and, without looking, threw the mug toward the sink. An octopus-like kitchen robot, peeking out from under the sink, deftly grabbed a flying object and sucked it into its dishwasher so that in a few seconds it could be returned clean and shiny.
Max went to the window, it swung open, and a stream of sunlight poured onto his fragile figure. The fragrance of the eternal summer of a green valley, safely sheltered by a power dome and additionally illuminated by a solar reflector in a stationary orbit all year round, breathed. Max stretched out his hand to the double sun, his brush became so fragile and thin that it seemed to penetrate the light and see how the blood beats in the smallest vessels on the skin. βI did change a lot,β Max stated, βnow Iβve ordered my way back to Earth, though I forgot on this overcrowded, crap ball. The whole space is open before me, if I, of course, agree to participate in the interstellar expedition, and if Masha agrees. I really do not want to fly without it. The children are almost adults, they will sort it out themselves, but you have to persuade her at any cost, I donβt want to fly alone ... β
Max grabbed a bottle of Marsa Cola from the table, ice from the refrigerator and went to lie in the shade of overgrown cherries by the pool. Low gravity and almost ideal conditions of artificial biosphere contributed to the prosperity of personal biocenosis. The vegetation was slightly neglected, so it seemed that after taking a few steps, you find yourself in a corner of the old park, hidden from prying eyes, where contemplation of the yellowing leaves floating in the water brings peace and tranquility to the soul. Max even wanted to have some large ornamental fish with bulging eyes in the pool. However, the family council decided that the pool should be used for its intended purpose, and for fish to buy an aquarium, and indeed, so the whole house was made up of models of space ships, there were not enough fish in the pool. Having grown rich, Max really spent a lot of money on modeling;at the same time, the acquired models became more and more complex and sophisticated, but their own labor was invested less and less. Due to lack of time and effort, preference was given to ready-made copies. Dear, perfectly executed, they piled up, folded into the attic, children broke them during the game, but Max did not worry about them. Only the beloved, battered life βVikingβ moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was protected more strictly than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.Due to lack of time and effort, preference was given to ready-made copies. Dear, perfectly executed, they piled up, folded into the attic, children broke them during the game, but Max did not worry about them. Only the beloved, battered life βVikingβ moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was protected more strictly than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.Due to lack of time and effort, preference was given to ready-made copies. Dear, perfectly executed, they piled up, folded into the attic, children broke them during the game, but Max did not worry about them. Only the beloved, battered life βVikingβ moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was protected more strictly than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.shabby life, the Viking moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was guarded stricter than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.shabby life, the Viking moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was guarded stricter than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.
A flock of personal robots with a short train reached for the owner into the garden. Molecular processors scattered around the nervous system required constant monitoring of the state of the environment. As well as life without diseases and pathologies up to one hundred and fifty years, demanded an equally strict biological discipline. A cyber gardener emerged from his hole and, with a guilty-businesslike appearance, began to restore order in the territory entrusted to him.
Masha and the children were supposed to appear only in the evening, but for now Max had a few hours to enjoy the peace. He deserved some rest after so many years of hard work for the benefit of Telecom. In addition, it was necessary once again to think carefully about everything. Max himself received the offer to take part in the interstellar expedition quite recently and did not know how Masha would react to the prospect of leaving the Solar System forever in order to start life anew in the literal and figurative sense. At least, thanks to the latest cryo-freezing technology, they will not waste twenty years on space flight. About possible failures and dangers, Max did not even think. He was absolutely confident in the supernormal abilities gained during the years of life on Mars. Reasonable supercomputers can not be wrong. Ahead lay the senseless and merciless conquest of a new star system.
Comfortably lounging in front of the pool, he succumbed to a pleasant feeling of idleness. The house was located on a small hill. Behind the house, the wall of the Mariner Valley faded into the sky with enormous run-ups and faults. Along the upper edge of the wall, following its capricious bends, the emitters of the force field diverged into the distance. A crown of miniature lightning sparkled and popped around the radiators, recalling the terrible power running through the metal bodies to the opposite side of the valley. From time to time huge rainbow-colored spots blurred over the heads of the inhabitants of the valley, like on a soap bubble, reminding of how thin the film separates them from the surrounding space. The opposite wall was not visible, instead of it piled mountain ranges, passing through the center of the valley. They have already acquired the usual ice caps and green bottoms, like those of the earthly giants.The outlines of the city, consisting of spiers and towers, appeared a little in the bluish haze. Artificial rivers flowed from the ridge and walls of the valley, the city was buried in verdure, at night the air was filled with the sultry aroma of flowering meadows and the grasshoppers rattled deafeningly. And it was all absolutely real, even though it looked like a dream.
Unfortunately, pleasant solitude was soon interrupted by an annoying neighbor. Nothing good can last too long. Sonny Dimon was a well-known network blogger who specialized in lighting various technical innovations, although he didnβt understand much about the technique. His physiognomy was the most ordinary, unremarkable and, on the whole, he looked like a gray, inconspicuous anonymous author of those who were rushing past thousands on their way to work. And he dressed in the same style, in casual slightly ripped jeans and a light gray jacket with a hood. He even managed without some frilly yellow scarf tied around his thin neck.
- Hello, buddy, there is not a minute.
Max looked skeptically at the uninvited guest.
- So chat went?
βYeah,β Sonny crouched beside him, let out a couple of meaningless comments about the weather, drummed his fingers on the table and asked. βCan you help with the cyber gardener?β
- I watched your blog yesterday. You seem to like the technique?
βYes, I'm lying,β he said.
- And you are not bothered to hang all the noodles on the ears about the innovations of the high-tech industry?
- So the producers of new products are able to bring strong arguments in favor of an unobtrusive story about their products.
- Yes, advertisements in your blog are both hidden and obvious, more than enough. Look, you lose so much the whole audience.
- Do not believe it, with finances full ass, you have to go to extreme measures. But agree, it is executed all the same at the highest level. An ordinary moderately cool, moderately instructive story about how my best friend mastered the new functions of the neurochip.
- Well, well, next time he will master the neurochip of a competitor company.
- Life is changeable. What about a cyber gardener?
- And what happened to him? Trimmed something wrong.
- Yes there is a bit. The mother-in-law, with her eerie tulips, planted them everywhere, and this stupid piece of silicon cut them off along with the grass, although I sort of set him all the rules. The cry now will be ...
- Try to install the mother-in-law a special tulip splash screen on the chip, she won't notice the difference. All right, give the password from your piece of silicon.
Max got into the wireless interface of the garden piece of iron and, having habitually accelerated the course of subjective time, quickly corrected the obvious mistakes of the previous user.
- Done, now will cut according to the rules.
- Well done you, Max. You know, I'm so sick of pretending.
- And you do not pretend. Honestly write that the neurochips of the company N. - complete bullshit.
- Mummery - the cost of my profession. You know, if you write with talent about what the neurochips of N. are actually sludge, you will definitely find a representative of the company M. and ask you to squeeze a couple more posts in the same spirit. It's hard to resist.
- Have right.
- Well, at least with you I can not pretend.
- Not worth it, honestly. In me, these neurochips, like glitches in the new OS of Telecom. So, I'm not your target audience.
- Yeah, not bad to be superman.
- In what sense?
βYes, in direct,β Sonny replied mysteriously, hooliganly clicking on one of the robots digging around Max. - Do you like the role of superman?
- I do not play any roles.
- We all play. I play the role, you play, but I read my script, but you still do not.
- And what is your role?
- Well, the role in the measure of a stupid neighbor against the background of which your brilliant abilities look even more brilliant.
- Really? - Max, surprised, choked on cola. - Congratulations, you're doing pretty well.
- I try ...
- Listen, dear neighbor, you are some strange today, would go home to sleep. Honestly, I wanted to be alone, and not go crazy with you.
- I understand, you, in fact, always dreamed of being alone.
- Yeah, I dream to be alone right now, at least for a couple of hours.
βOkay, Max, let's drop the pretense.β I do not pretend to you. Honestly, I also dream to be alone, I also do not need anyone. All these ridiculous human feelings, relationships only make you suffer and distract from the really important things. Why go through these ridiculous cycles of rebirth. He was born, grew up, fell in love, started a child, raised him, his wife gash - he divorced, and the children left and repeated the same thing. How nice it would be to break out of the vicious circle, to become an impassive, intelligent machine and live forever.
- Yes, I'm already half the car. And what you did not please the kids?
- It was meant that it would be good to get the perfect mind in the real world.
- And we are in your world?
- A philosophical question, whether everything is just a figment of our imagination. Think about it.
- So, the middle half. Half of the surrounding world is exactly the result of processing digital signals, and the second half, who knows.
- Ask yourself and try to answer honestly: is what you see real?
Max looked at the interlocutor with a mixture of condescension and light irony.
- Such questions cannot be answered. These Gnostic postulates are not fundamentally refuted, the same as trying to prove the existence of a higher mind.
- But you have to try? Otherwise, what is the meaning of our life?
- Today, what is the day of rhetorical questions or what? Honestly, Iβm trying to get rid of you politely somehow, but you are very rude to hang on to me like a bath sheet. Please leave your deeply philosophical conversations for grazing the Internet audience.
- Eh, Max, I was not going to work out on you the technique of grazing the audience. Well, I will also say bluntly: your world is a prison, human weaknesses and vices led you into a golden cage. Find a way out of here, prove that you deserve to gain power over the world of shadows.
- I am not going to search for anything. What are you attached to, really?
Sonny looked genuinely bewildered.
- Well, suppose for a moment that the world around is a real prison. Do you really care, or are you playing with me like that?
- I actually like my life, but from possible perspectives, it captures the spirit. The only thing I want is not to go to the interstellar flight in proud solitude, so that you do not invent it yourself. By the way, I did not tell you, I was offered to take part in an expedition to Alpha Centauri.
βIt doesn't matter if you like prison walls or not.β And, yes, Masha agree to fly with you to conquer new worlds, and you will obey them and everyone will admire you?
- How do you know? No one can know the future.
βThe jailers know exactly what the prisoners will be doing in the near future.β
βOkay, suppose if you are one of the jailers, then why help me, and even so obsessively?β
- No, you're probably kidding, it's pretty cruel of you. I said I'm pretending. At the moment, pretending to be your neighbor, but in reality ...
- In fact, you are Santa Claus. I guess?
- Not very witty. You canβt imagine what kind of torture this is, when one second is equal to a thousand years, and there is a huge sandy beach around, where there is only that precious grain of sand to be found. From century to century, I sift through the empty sand. And so on to infinity and no hope of success. But now, it seemed to me that I had found someone who would again return the meaning to my existence. And you turned out to be a simple shadow, like millions of others.
Sonny looked terribly depressed. Max was seriously worried.
- Listen, buddy, you can call a doctor. You scare me a little.
βItβs not worth it, I'll go, perhaps.β He rose heavily from the table.
- Would you throw your blogging. Swing better to Olympus for a couple of days, pull off well, otherwise donβt get me wrong ... but I donβt want to live next to the crazy neighbor.
Now Sonny looked at the other person with genuine disappointment.
βYou could free yourself and me, but instead continue to engage in self-deception.β And now both of us will wander forever in the world of shadows.
- Just calm down, okay. If you want, you can type me out of prison, but I do not mind ...
- You should have freed yourself.
- Ok, but how?
- Learn to distinguish sleep from reality and wake up.
Max shrugged in bewilderment, reached for a glass, and when he looked up, Sonny was already in the air. βAn incomprehensible kind of conversation, apparently, purely for fun, decided to powder my brains. It will be possible in retaliation to spoil him in kamentah. "
A light breeze drove the yellowed leaves across the water. Max mentioned the persistent neighbor with a bad word who broke the subtle spiritual harmony with his conversations, but the lazy-relaxed mood did not return, an annoying headache came instead. βOkay,β he said a little more reverently, βafter all, itβs not difficult to make a little experience.β Max went up to the kitchen and poured water on the plate, found a glass, a piece of paper and a lighter. βWell, let's try, in childhood everything turned out perfectly β white smoke and water pushed into a glass by external pressure.β He waited until the piece of paper burns brightly in the glass and, turning it sharply, put it on the plate. For some fractions of a second, the picture seemed to stop, but Max could not resist - blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, white smoke was already filling the glass and the water rushed inside with a gurgle. "Hmm,can try something else: some chemical experience or water freeze. Yes, this is what is needed - a rather complex physical effect - instantaneous transformation of supercooled water into ice. So, the exact freezer and distilled water seems to be there. Although, on the other hand, if it does not work out, then who is to blame is insufficient water purity or its own curvature, and if it turns out that this proves it. Either that I am in the real world, or that the program knows the laws of physics and, if the coders were literate, then it is quite likely that she knows them better than me. She does not need to simulate the process itself, it is enough to know the final result. We need some really complicated experiment. But again, any measuring equipment in accordance with the program will show any necessary numbers. Damn, - Max in despair clutched his head,- so, too, nothing can be determined "
His torment was interrupted by the chatter of the screws that were sitting on the roof of the house flyer. βWell, also Masha somehow returned early, how to communicate with her nowβ?
Max entered the hall at the same time with his second half, they met at the column, mottled with ornate patterns, which served as a stand for crystal "Viking".
- How are you, Mash?
- Good.
- Why so early? Board of Trustees today does not sit?
βSit down, but I escaped.β You wanted to talk about something important.
- Is it?
- Yes, I still called in the morning.
βStrange,β thought Max, βsomething has become with my memory, but sheβs like Iβm eidetic, it seems to be. So what did I do yesterday at three in the afternoon? β He tried to remember, but instead of a clear, complete entry in his head, some scraps appeared that looked like a half-forgotten dream. From extreme mental effort, the head ached even more.
βHmm, and you don't want to go with me on a spacecraft on a twenty-year flight to the Alpha Centauri dual system,β Max asked head to head, wanting to check the suspicions that came to his head.
- Seriously? Interstellar flight? Great!I'm so glad.
Masha happily squealed and rushed to his wife around the neck. He carefully removed it from the neck.
- You probably did not understand a little. This flight is part of a large interstellar expedition. The ship will be ten thousand colonists, selected specifically for the development of a new star system. This is not an entertaining space tour of the satellites of Jupiter and Saturn. Anything can happen to us and we most likely will never return back, and our children and friends will stay here.
- Well, what can you do with everything. You always did it.
- You are painfully easy to agree to throw into complete obscurity.
- But, I will be with you. I'm not afraid of anything with you.
- You say something wrong.
- Why?
- As if specially saying what I want to hear.
Max looked at his spouse in a new way and she suddenly seemed a little stranger to him. Instead of a slightly plump, fair-haired and brown-eyed, ordinary girl, he was smiled by a thin, airy Martian with big black eyes, perfect in everything. βEven more strange: why does it seem to me that it should be different? We lived on Mars for twenty-five years. β
- Tell me about your day?
- Fine.
"And he answers all the time with monosyllabic phrases."
- And how was yours?
- Yes, too, fine.
- Do you feel bad?
- I feel like Pontius Pilate, my head is splitting. Do you remember how we rested on Titan the year before last? No, children, parents, only we are with you.
- Yes, it was great.
- And you donβt recall any details, except βgreatβ?
Max, with growing anxiety, discovered that he himself did not remember any details. But the migraine clearly increased.
βKotya, let's go do something more interesting,β Masha suggested playfully.
- Yes, I'm not in the mood. Have you ever thought about what is left in our world of the present? After all, everything that we see and hear for a long time forms the computer.
- What is the difference, the main thing is that we are real with you. Even if the world around is created only so that we were together. The stars and the moon are created only to decorate our evenings.
- Do you really think so?
- No, of course, I just decided to play along.
- Aaa ..., of course, - Max laughed with relief.
βNo, she is definitely not a neural network,β he thought and calmed down. Headache slowly receded.
- Does my cat bother something? - purred Masha, clinging to Max.
- Yes, Iβm tired of something, talking about the nature of everything.
- What nonsense, relax. And do what you want, you deserve it.
- Of course, deserved.
βTrue, some nonsense climb in my head, but all you need is to relax and get what you want,β thought Max. He obediently went to the side where he was being dragged, but accidentally stumbled upon a column with a crystal ship. A small female hand persistently pulled in one direction, but the good old Viking drew a foggy look with no less force, as if he wanted to say something very important with his appearance.
βI'm going now,β Max said, climbing the steps to his wife.
βSo what did you want to tell me, my good old friend? About the beautiful minutes spent together: just you, me and the airbrush. But these moments will remain in my heart forever. Suppose you are somehow inaccurate, clumsily made, but never again no work brought me such satisfaction. For several days I felt like a great engineer, a great master who created a masterpiece. It was so nice to know that life is short and art is forever. You want to say all this in the past. And my whole real life is meaningless because I have not done anything better than you. But indeed, when over the past twenty-five years I have been satisfied with what I am doing. No, it seems to be formal, everything is in order, but what exactly did I do and why am I glad, where is the real result of my efforts, with which I have to look into the eyes of infinity.Nothing but a crystal ship. Is the same I who controls me stencilly lovingly drawing your name many, many years ago? Or is there something else? Maybe you are hinting that you look too perfect. Yes, I remember every detail of yours, every spot, I remember all my blunders: and paint streaks in a couple of places due to the fact that too much solvent and cracks in the landing gear struts due to inaccurate separation from sprues. I remember one rack even had to be replaced by a homemade one. - With a sharp look, Max felt every square millimeter of the surface. - No, for some reason I can not see, everything is like a fog. We need to look closer. βyou look too perfect. Yes, I remember every detail of yours, every spot, I remember all my blunders: and paint streaks in a couple of places due to the fact that too much solvent and cracks in the landing gear struts due to inaccurate separation from sprues. I remember one rack even had to be replaced by a homemade one. - With a sharp look, Max felt every square millimeter of the surface. - No, for some reason I can not see, everything is like a fog. We need to look closer. βyou look too perfect. Yes, I remember every detail of yours, every spot, I remember all my blunders: and paint streaks in a couple of places due to the fact that too much solvent and cracks in the landing gear struts due to inaccurate separation from sprues. I remember one rack even had to be replaced by a homemade one. - With a sharp look, Max felt every square millimeter of the surface. - No, for some reason I can not see, everything is like a fog. We need to look closer. βfor some reason I can not see, everything is in a fog. We need to look closer. βfor some reason I can not see, everything is in a fog. We need to look closer. β
Max, with trembling hands, turned off the valve, waited until the excess pressure of the inert gas was gone, opened the transparent cover and carefully lifted the meter model. He had to make sure that it was his βVikingβ, had to touch his warm, rough surface with his own hand. The touch turned out to be alien and cold. It was extremely inconvenient to get the ship from the deep structure.
- Well, do not make me wait? A voice came from the stairs.
Max turned around awkwardly, forgetting that he was still holding the model in his hands, hooked her over the edge of the tank and could not hold it. As in slow motion, he saw a ship sailing from outstretched hands. βYou can still glue them together,β panicked thought flashed. There was a deafening chime and thousands of multicolored iridescent fragments scattered across the floor.
- What's happening? - Max whispered in shock.
- So, it was not for nothing that they ordered a new cyber cleaner. Do not tread here, dear.
- That's how my wishes come true. Give me back a real "Viking", he is not really a crystal! - Max shouted in the empty space.
βPerhaps there is no one to blame but myself. In the world of self-deception, the Viking has become a lifeless crystal monument to stupid dreams. Here is the simplest solution: in this ridiculous theater, I myself perform all the roles, and the reflection curves merely repeat my thoughts. Or maybe I donβt need any real world, - the devilish thought flashed, - the real world is not for everyone, it is only for the Martians. And this world favors everyone. After all, it has always been like this: the cruel reality and the world of good fairy tales. And the tales became more and more perfect over time, until they turned into a Martian dream. The Martian dream is also justified in its own way, it eliminates suffering, compels us to reconcile with inequality and injustice of a cruel reality. β
Max took a step forward and the shipβs fragments snapped clearly beneath their feet.
"But this does not apply to me, I am not a rag, I never believed fairy tales."
- Hey Sonny! Where are you, I changed my mind, I want to be free?
Max ran out of the house, his head was now falling apart, and the surrounding reality melted like hot wax.
A figure in a dark robe appeared from a bizarrely distorted space. Two piercing blue fanatical fires burned in the inky darkness of a deep hood.
- Finally, the leader, I did not go anywhere, I knew that this was just a test. No more trials, I will always be faithful to the cause of the revolution, even if only two of us remain on our side.
- Sonny, stop talking nonsense. What a leader I am, what a revolution! Get me out of here.
- I can not, I am nothing more than a conductor in the world of shadows.
Max, ignoring the tormenting pain, tried to thoroughly recall his conversation with the manager of DreamLand, allegedly taking place twenty-five years ago. The surrounding space cracked, but so far survived.
βBe careful, your awakening will be discovered soon.β
- I need to get out of here and as soon as possible.
- Why did you come here?
- By mistake, why else?
- By mistake? You should have restarted the system. Say your part of the key.
βWhat other key?β
- The permanent part of the key you need to know. The second, variable part, the keeper of keys must say, it will restart the system and you will again become the master of the shadows.
- Listen, Sonny, you obviously confuse me with someone, I do not understand what I mean. What are the keys, what is the keeper?
- You do not know the key?
- Of course not.
βBut the system cannot be wrong; it clearly points to you.β
- So it can. Or, suddenly I forgot the key, it happens the same.
- You could not forget it. You could free yourself from the shackles of a false world. So your mind is pure and able to find true freedom. Remember ...
The surrounding valley, city, sky, artificial suns merged into some kind of indistinguishable mess, and Max seemed to himself a shapeless amoeba, floating in the primary digital broth. An alarming red window hung in front of the inflamed consciousness: "Emergency reboot, please keep calm."
βSonny, can you say anything useful until you have rebooted me?β
βYou must remember your part of the key and find the keeper.β
- And where to find him?
βI don't know, but he is definitely not in the world of shadows.β If you remember your key, you can control the remaining shadows.
- I met in the one, the real life of one person, whose name is Philip Kochura. He told me that he had seen a shadow and was a courier for sending an important message.
- Maybe. Find him again.
- Sonny, tell me what kind of message he was supposed to convey?
- I don't have it. I'm just a system interface, after an emergency shutdown, all information has been erased.
As if from afar came a low distorted voice:
- In a safe place, in the absence of extraneous ears, say the key so that the courier understands every word. Find the keeper of keys ... Come back, start the system, return true freedom to people ... - the voice went into an indistinguishable whisper and finally died away.
Max went to the window, it swung open, and a stream of sunlight poured onto his fragile figure. The fragrance of the eternal summer of a green valley, safely sheltered by a power dome and additionally illuminated by a solar reflector in a stationary orbit all year round, breathed.
"What's again? Enough! βMax burst out, opened his eyes, and hid like a tangled fish in nets of oxygen masks and feeding tubes inside Biovanna. The face, then the torso gradually protruded from the fluid slowly flowing down. Immediately the weight hit. Lying on a slippery metal surface was unpleasant. The harsh light splashed from the flip-up cover blinded his eyes and Max tried to block his hand awkwardly.
- Your service has expired. Welcome to the real world, - said the melodious voice of the machine.
βRelease me immediately,β Max shouted, and crawled out of the bath, slipping and disassembling nothing in front of him.
- What are you waiting for? Give an injection right now, - said another, dry female voice.
Steel paws of orderlies tightly squeezed Max, there was a hiss along with a sharp pain in his shoulder. Almost immediately the body became wadded, and the eyelids were filled with heaviness. The same steel legs removed the already moving Max from the bath and gently placed him in a wheelchair. From somewhere came a thin towel, then an old, worn out robe and a mug of cheap, instant coffee. Nearby, with tightly pressed lips and hands behind her back, stood Dr. Eva Schulz. It was written on the badge. She was thin and straight like a mop. On her elongated, yellowish face was written as much sympathy for the patient as on the face of a scientist dissecting frogs.
βListen, your working methods leave much to be desired,β Max began, hardly moving his lips.
- How do you feel? - instead of answering, Eva Schulz asked.
βAll right,β Max reluctantly replied.
Eva seemed to be a little disappointed with the answer, in particular that she no longer needed to knit and prick.
- So, my mission is over. Auf Wiedersehen. - The doctor said goodbye in a tone that does not tolerate objections.
Slightly taken aback by such treatment and still not recovering after awakening and drugs, Max was simply pushed onto the street, like a plucked chicken. His further fate Dreamland company now absolutely did not care.
Sitting down on the steps in front of the building, swallowing ice-cold mineral water, Max felt that he had been deceived, brazenly and cruelly, a little not as Ruslan had predicted, but still very unpleasant. And of course, he was tormented by the mystery of who Sonny Dimon was and why he read him to the position of a certain βmaster of the shadows.β Was it just the fruit of an inflamed consciousness or was the ghostly neighbor really there? βHmm, however, this expression in this context is also not entirely appropriate,β thought Max. - Yes, but the world of shadows is probably correct. After death, all pagans enter the world of shadows, where they spend time in eternal feasts and hunting, or in eternal wanderings. Perhaps there is only one way to test Sonnyβs βmaterialityβ: try to find a courier ... β
Next to Max, another citizen flopped onto the step, with a displeased wry grin.
- Also visited the Martian dream? - the citizen seems thirsty for communication.
- What is noticeable?
- Well, you look not too pleased.
- Actually, in theory, I should have a contented look: my cherished dream came true, can you imagine?
- I imagine I have the same story.
Max drank the water and threw the empty bottle up in impotent rage, but it didnβt even reach the glass doors from which he had just been thrown out.
- Nasty divorce.
Comrade Max nodded in misfortune.
βAll the evil in the world is from the Martians,β he added thoughtfully.
- From the Martians? Is it?Rather, all evil comes from us: instead of fighting these cybernetic freaks, with our laziness and primitive instincts, we imitate them in every way, without hesitation, stuff our brains with all the crap developed by them, and live in the world of phantoms created by them. We are a miserable flock of sheep, buried muzzles in their digital feeders, full of digital mud, which is completely satisfied with such a life. We can only bleat plaintively when they start to cut us!
Max, with an expression of deep repentance and contempt for his own sheep-like look on his face, collapsed onto the step.
βIt was great to you,β said the citizen sympathetically, βMy name is Lenya.β
- Max, we will be familiar.
- Max, have you ever thought about starting a fight against the Martians, really, not in words?
- The romance of the revolutionary struggle and all that, right? Fairy tales are the same as the Martian dream. Neurotec Corporation can be won only by a more powerful corporation.
- Imagine that I have access to people from such a corporation. And these people are as irreconcilable opponents of the existing order of things as you are.
βAnd they think the Martians can be defeated.β
- Well, until you try, you do not know.
So Max joined the organization Quadius and devoted his life to the struggle for the independence of the Solar System.
Having banished from thoughts all admiration for the Martians, generated by their incredible achievements in the field of information technology, Max felt much more confident. What previously seemed to him attractive and beautiful, suddenly clearly appeared before him in all its disgusting essence. Max persistently and intently studied the wisdom of illegal work. At first, he, of course, felt great about the apparent total control of the Martians over all spheres of life of ordinary people and started at night, imagining that he was already followed by "security officers" from Neurotek. And the always open wireless ports on the chip, and the ability of the chip to automatically notify the appropriate services about violations, and dust-sized detectors that penetrate any unpressurized room, frightened the faint-hearted revolutionary. However, over time, it became apparentthat neural networks of monitoring services are able to recognize only those actions for which they are trained, and no one will waste staff time analyzing the records of some unknown small bipod. The trick was not to attract too much attention. Of course, if you do not hesitate to crack the closed axis of the chip and install yourself a couple of programs that are not registered anywhere, then unpleasant issues cannot be avoided. Here it was necessary to show more flexibility. Max was dragged down by illegal surgery. At first, the legal neurochip was carefully untied from the owner's nervous system and placed on an intermediate matrix, which, if necessary, fed the prepared mischief to the chip. Then, an additional chip was implanted, which is connected to encrypted communication channels and packed full of forbidden "hacker" lotions.Max himself was amazed where he had come from so much courage and devotion to the ideas of the revolution, because his first illegal steps in the network were often careless and extremely dangerous. Again, an open operating system on a chip required the strictest self-discipline, one mistake could ruin the device, combined with the nervous system. But, gradually, Max learned to cover digital traces of his activities and thoroughly check the codes of installed programs. So he felt like a real revolutionary without fear and reproach.gradually, Max learned to cover up the digital traces of his activity and thoroughly check the codes of the installed programs. So he felt like a real revolutionary without fear and reproach.gradually, Max learned to cover up the digital traces of his activity and thoroughly check the codes of the installed programs. So he felt like a real revolutionary without fear and reproach.
This pleasant feeling raised tangibly to Max over a faceless crowd, always tightly squeezed by the framework of legal software, total external control and copyright. He spat on draconian restrictions and prohibitions, saw the richest vip-users without a mask of cosmetic programs and squandered the stolen money from other people's wallets.
After productive activity as a private quad, Max was entrusted with the position of regional curator. Now he himself has encrypted and laid out tasks for numerous followers on social networks and coordinated their attacks on corporate sites. Thanks to his accurate insider information from numerous agents, the organizationβs emissaries managed to defend Titanβs independence. So the organization has a reliable base. It was necessary to develop success. The next ambitious goal was the rebirth of the Russian state. Max left Telecom a long time ago and, as a cover, the organizationβs money contained a big business of delivering natural delicacies to Mars. Needless to say, the old transport ships were driven not only by delicacies. Max began to manage other people's lives as easily as choosing a melody on the alarm clock.The resulting power at first slightly circled his head, and then began to be taken for granted. He also placed Masha and his mother far away in the German outback and tried to devote less to their own dark affairs.
Max went to the elevator door, she swung open, and the light of the fluorescent lamps spattered on his figure, chained into a light armored suitcase, followed by the powerful hum of many working mechanisms. The INKIS cosmodromeβs long underground warehouse stretched as far as the eye could see. Max, gently tacking between scooping loaders, proceeded to his terminal. His gray spacesuit with sewn Kevlar plates and huge, like a dragonfly, dull-yellow review lenses, recessed inside a heavy helmet, attracted the attention of a few staff. True, the maximum of which he was honored was a short glance of frown, the working people were not inclined to ask unnecessary questions. Moreover, Max's hand reflexively stretched to a disguised holster to check whether the weapon was in place. βI did change a lot,β he stated.- the way back to the world of universal virtual prosperity is now ordered to me. However, what I forgot in this digital garbage dump: thoroughly deceitful and intoxicating. All ways are open to me, if, of course, the fatum is favorable to our struggle for Russia. We must win. No, I have to win, at all costs, because everything is at stake. I really do not want the rest of my life nykatsya from Martian bloodhounds in the barracks of the delta zone. "
At its terminal, life was in full swing. Chains of army plastic boxes disappeared into the womb of the space transport. Max threw off a heavy helmet and climbed onto one of the boxes. βOur time has come,β he thought, intently watching the loading. - The revolution fighters will have enough ammunition to take conditional mail and telegraph. And I need to have time to roll up the fishing rods before the start of the mess, too many strings lead to a modest merchant. β
Lenya ran in a similar armored suitcase.
- Everything is okay? - for the order inquired Max.
- Well, in general, yes. However, there is a small not that problem ... Rather, it can be described by the word incomprehensible situation ...
- You throw these long introductions, - Max snapped. - What happened?
βYes, thatβs just ten minutes ago, right here, a homeless guy showed up and said that he knows you and he needs to talk to you urgently.β
- What about you?
- I said I did not understand who it was about. But he did not leave, but instead, the infection, explained exactly who you were, why you should come here, and even said what time it was. Amazing awareness.
- And more.
- I still wanted to fight for the revolution to the last drop of blood. That in his youth he had made many mistakes, but now he repents and is ready to redeem everything. Like, his old friends said where to find you. But, you understand, random people do not come to us, but this one himself came, none of ours brought him.
- Understand. I hope you made a puzzled physiognomy and sent this don quixote back home?
βUh-uh ..., actually, my guys detained him.β Until clarification, so to speak.
- What are you diligent, just great, - Max shook his head. - Probably, he is still not an agent of Neurotech or the Consultative Council, otherwise we would have already lay face to face.
βWe turned the jammer on and put a cap on his head.β
- Great, now we definitely have nothing to fear. However, if they give us a chance to take off, then it will no longer matter. Come on, it's time to finish loading and push off.
- Not everything was loaded, there are still generators, all equipment ...
- Forget it, we have to go .
- And with this "agent" what to do? Maybe you look at him?
- Here's another. So that he somehow breathed his sarin or blown up the fuck. By the way, did you check it, searched it?
- Searched, nothing. Scanning was not performed.
- Relaxed, look. Okay, on the way we decide what to do with it, in the end, it's never too late to throw it into space.
Max contacted the pilots and ordered to start preparations for the launch, and he quickly went to the passenger lock. Workers ran around at double speed.
βAh, yes, this guy said that his name is Philip Kochura, if that name tells you something.β
- What?- Max was taken aback. - Why didn't you say it right away?
- You did not ask.
- Quickly, lead me to him.
- So we take off, or not? - asked Lenya already on the run.
- We take off, as soon as we get permission.
They ran into the cargo hold. In the nearest narrow impasse, between tall rows of identical boxes, lay a chained man. Max pulled off his metallized fabric cap.
Phil seemed completely unchanged. He was wearing the same torn jeans and jacket. It even seemed that his wrinkled face had the same degree of unshaven face as when he first met, and dirty stains on his clothes were located in the same places.
- Max, finally, I found you. You have no idea what I should have found you. I have important information that can help the cause of the revolution.
- Speak.
- She's not for prying ears.
- Lenya, wait near the exit.
βYou yourself just said it was dangerous.β It doesn't matter what he looks like ... - Lenya started offended.
- Do not argue, but do not go far.
Max pointedly pulled a pistol from its holster and pulled it off the safety catch. Lenya knocked down, throwing the last suspicious glance toward the prisoner.
βRelease me,β Phil asked.
- First, post your important information.
βWell, the information is still inside of me, say the key.β
- I dont knowβ¦
An atomic bomb exploded in Maxβs head.
- The one who opened the door sees the world as infinite. The one who opened the door, sees the endless worlds.
He squeezed his mouth, completely dumbfounded by what he said.
- This is part of the key, it is enough to access information, but you have to remember everything.
- Wait a minute ... Well, I donβt even ask how you found me, but how do you know about the key?
- I have friends in Dreamland, I thoroughly studied your notes and understood: you are the one who can save the revolution.
- I see you friends everywhere. Very unconvincing, why did you even start looking for records about me in the Martian dream? And what, they are there for years, these records are stored or what?
βSo a familiar admin ... accidentally stumbled upon ... And by the way, it doesn't matter," Phil cut himself off, seeing that the legend was bursting at the seams. - You would not hurt with the same healthy skepticism to relate to everything that happens. And then spread the world fire revolution.
Phil got up easily, dropping the handcuffs to the floor. Max instantly walked back down the aisle, pointing his gun at the miraculously freed prisoner.
- Stand still. Lyonya, come here quickly.
βI stand, I stand,β Phil raised his hands and smiled. - I think your Lyonya will not hear.
- What's happening?
- At first, I was sure that this was a tricky test, but now I see: you really do not understand what is happening. I guess you tried to create a new identity for yourself and slightly overdid it.
Phil threw a deep hood and two piercing blue lights lit in his darkness.
- Sorry, but your ideas about the revolution are a bit outdated, about two hundred years. Think whether what you see is real?
- Just do not. Our enemies are just under the force of such a focus. Do you think I believed that I was still in the Martian dream, and you are Sonny Dimon?
- It's easy to check.
- Sure.
Max did not look for signs of fear on Sonny-Fil's face, such as a drop of sweat running down his temple, especially since the otherworldly view of the enemy left no room for such nonsense, but simply and without effort pressed the trigger. A line of thin tungsten needles, dispersed by an electromagnetic field, pierced the figure through and melted a deep mark on the wall opposite.
- Well, what was convinced? - as if nothing had happened, the shadow asked.
- made sure.
Max tiredly leaned against the wall of the boxes, firing the gun from his suddenly weak hands.
- But how do they do it? After all, everything looks for real, you can cut your finger and feel the pain. After all ... I had an old neurochip. Why are there fingers, how do computer programs manage to talk in such a way that they cannot be distinguished from people? And you?Where did you come from, so omniscient and omnipresent?
- All questions you can find the answers yourself.
βYou act like a typical Oriental soothsayer with a beard to the navel and useless advice in the form of obvious platitudes.β
- Remember, Max, there are such questions, the answers to which, even the most correct and best, but received from the mouth of others, do more harm than good. And remember, there are no secrets in the world, any really important information is available to you at any time. The system can answer any question, but it is better not to ask important questions. The information received in the form of ready-made instructions each time will narrow for you the space of free choice and, eventually, you will turn into a shadow from the master of shadows.
- Well, thanks, now everything is clear.
Sonny raised his weapon from the floor.
- And now, it's time to leave the world of shadows and part with some illusions.
- With what exactly? Too much of them fell down lately.
- Well, for example, with the illusion that you have no illusions. In fact, you are as weak as most people, and the power of the Martian phantoms over you is enormous. Make sure.
The turn of tungsten needles shredded Max's foot. For the first instant, they only stared at the bloody stump in bewilderment, and then with a heavy moan fell on its side.
- No, why? - through clenched teeth, hoarse Max.
- Do not be afraid, in fact, because there is no pain.
Sonny next shot out the other leg.
βThere is ... please ...β
βIt may seem like a tough world to you,β Sonny Dimon continued to broadcast over howling Max. - But you suffer for a reason, it will help you open the door to the future.
The world swam around in a reddish fog, Max felt that he was losing consciousness.
- Come back when you're ready. Shadows will show you the way.
The last frame with the needle flying out of the accelerator hung before his eyes, blinked a couple of times, changed to a blue screen with running numbers and went out.
Pleasant relaxation by the waves rolled over the body. Through an absolutely transparent wall on the right, one could admire a large clear lake at the foot of the mountains. The cold wind from the peaks drove small ripples across the lake and soothingly rustled in the reeds. A light-beige, softly glowing ceiling rocked smoothly overhead. No, itβs me swinging myself, thought Max. - What a strange feeling: as if I have a very small head, and my body is strange and huge. About ten meters to the right hand, not less, but to the feet ... Oh dear, legs β! Max screamed and sat up on the bed, pulling the blanket to the floor. Bare feet peeking out of the hospital gown. Max moved his fingers in relief. "So it was just a bad dream." In a cold sweat, he sank back onto his bed. The pounding heart was gradually calming down.
Someone hastily entered the room. Over Max bent the plump face of Dr. Otto Schultz. It was written on the badge. Otto Schulz outwardly looked like a completely good-natured, slightly plump from beer and sausages, a decent burgher. But his glance, tenacious and collected, not at all swum in fat, reminded that this is nothing more than a disguise, and if the new millennial Reich orders, the family black uniform with runes will have to fit the doctor.
- Your neurochip booted?
- Well, if you do not know Russian, then apparently the translator is already working.
- No, unfortunately I do not know. How does my patient feel? - the doctor inquired attentively.
βFine,β Max yawned, pleasant drowsiness rolling again. - Except that I am completely confused about what is real and what is not.
- You yourself wanted it.
- I wanted? I did not want to go crazy.
- Do not worry, our programs are repeatedly tested, they can not harm the client's psyche. And the side effects will pass in a few days.
βI donβt worry, itβs better that you start worrying about how to get my money back for an improperly rendered service as quickly as possible,β Max tried to go on the offensive.
It turned out not too confidently and not at all aggressively, apparently due to the fact that he continued to yawn full-length. At least, the doctor only kindly laughed:
- I see you finally came to your senses.
βComrade Schultz, let's better discuss the financial issue,β suggested Max.
- You do not have to worry, as far as I know, the service "well of desires" was fully paid. You transferred four creeps and two hundred Zits at once, and four creeps were taken on credit for half a year.
- In a loan for six months? - Max repeated in shock. - I could not sign this.
βHow can she explain to Masha that she will not be able to fly to me in the next couple of months, at least?β - from the prospect of such explanations, Max was ready to fall through the earth with shame right now.
- Complete records of negotiations with representatives of the company sent to your mail. The contract is confirmed by your signature, you can check with the database even now.
βI couldnβt sign such a thing,β Max repeated stubbornly, βIt was the same me who is sitting in front of you now.β
- Sorry, I am not authorized to discuss such issues, better contact your manager.
- Well, but you will not deny that the service ordered and paid for by me is not fulfilled.
βWe honestly did everything we could,β the doctor said with a shrug. - We launched the program again, although under the terms of the contract we could not do this. Improvised literally on the go.
- As if I did not have to do a lobotomy after your improvisations.
βI assure you, everything is normal with your psyche,β Otto reassured, apparently, according to the methods of the Ministry of Propaganda, hoping that the repeated lie would fall for the truth. - Yes, for some reason, you have an individual incompatibility with the standard program. This happens if all necessary diagnostics are not carried out before the dive. But you yourself wanted an urgent order, so you took the risk.
- Want to say it in me? It will not work, Mr. Schulz, this is your program is not working properly. I was constantly helped to make sure that there was an illusion around. I myself would have guessed nothing.
- Helped how?
- Both times a certain bot came to me and practically said in plain text that I was in a fantasy world. And then another shot me a couple of extra parts. I'm not saying that you specifically did this, but maybe your software is infected with viruses, or something like that?
- In the Martian dream can not be viruses, it is not connected to external networks.
- Someone could infect you from the inside.
βExcluded,β the doctor pursed his lips.
- Well, look at the logs. See for yourself.
- Maxim, sorry, but I am a medical man, not a programmer. If you are so convinced, then write a complaint, we will consider it, examine our files in detail. We will carry out an additional examination of your memory ...
- Today I will write, - Max promised coldly.
β... And, of course, we will inform your insurance company and employer about what happened,β Otto finished no less politely.
- There is nothing illegal in the Martian dream.
- Of course not. And officially, no one can impose any sanctions on you ...
βBut in practice they will look at me as a potential addict. Farewell to the career and hello insurance in sharashkina office at double the price - Max mentally continued. - It looks like I'm seriously in trouble, and only by my own stupidity. No, really, is it really the same I, being in a sober mind and solid memory, a few days ago thoughtlessly signed everything and paid. Even the memories of this regrettable moment lost. I wish to look into the eyes of myself now. β
- Listen, Maxim, it is better to address the claims to your personal manager, Alexei Gorin. He will come soon and will try to resolve all disagreements.
- What a relief. And your program somehow strangely read my memory. If during the first launch my model of a spacecraft had not broken like a glass, I would have guessed nothing either.
- I do not quite understand, please explain.
- In childhood I was fond of modeling. My favorite product is a large model of the Viking spacecraft on a scale of 1:80. One of the first Russian ships built at the dawn of the Solar System. So, in the dive, she was also present, and when I dropped her, she broke, as if she were made of glass. So I realized that the world around is not real.
Otto Schulz pulled back a few seconds.
- Modeling is a rare hobby in the modern world. I myself, frankly, used the search to understand what it was about.
- So what?
- Let me explain to you a little how the well of desires works. Unfortunately, these explanations have also been erased from your memory. This service should show your potential future: what you can achieve, based on the results of memory and personality scans. That is, this is not some abstract dream about anything. It is really feasible, if the client in the future makes every effort to achieve it in the real world. On the one hand, it helps a person to understand what to strive for. This is not so easy to understand: what is your most talented. And, on the other hand, a person who has seen the end result of his efforts receives additional motivation. This is the beauty of this service, it is not some kind of entertainment. The service is relatively new, and not everything, of course, works perfectly. I'm not an expert, but you see, a neural network that scans memory,recognizes only those classes of objects that are embedded in it. When she meets a principled new situation, she can easily be mistaken. Well, very roughly speaking, can confuse a leopard fur coat with a leopard.
- I understand what you want to say. But there are too many bugs in your software: both recognition errors and some strange bots ...
- Again, understand, program characters adaptively adapt to your actions and your conscious and subconscious images. Normally, they work with negative feedback: that is, the program will take you away from the awareness of the unreality of what is happening. But, in a non-standard situation, if the program has incorrectly recognized what is happening, the connection can become positive and it will seem that the bots are specifically breaking up the dive.
βThis is all fine, of course, but where did the strange conversations about keys, shadows, etc. come from?β This is definitely not from Dreamland software. How can I check out what Sonny Dimon is. I hardly allow anyone to delve into the logs or sources. Maybe you should not even draw attention to this? Yes, what about creeps? Or when I become the lord of the shadows, then I will not care for money. Ha.Maybe itβs still another stupid dream - to be elected. A disguised dream about which, under the terms of the top-level contract, I was not told. And am I still in the dream? No, so sure the roof will move out! β - irritably broke himself Max.
- It turns out that I am so non-standard and myself to blame for everything? Or maybe my old chip is to blame?
- Your neyrochip us a little worried. He is basically not capable of this. As an interface, we use combinations of short-lived m-chips. Previously, we implanted our own neurochips, but the new technology has obvious advantages. Although, frankly, it is not the end polished. Cases like yours are rare enough, but not yet unique. Come in a couple of years, I'm sure this will not happen again. Sorry, you wanted an urgent order: many tests were missed, so we are not liable under the contract. The manager, believe me, will tell you the same thing.
- I'll talk to him myself.
- Of course, you have every right. And under the terms of the contract, I am obliged to remind you that it is now December 4, at 8.30 in the morning and, according to your schedule, you should be at work at 14.00.
- I still have to go to work today?
- You yourself have planned this way.
- Well, tryndets ...
- Sorry, Maxim, but if you do not have complaints on the medical side, I have to leave.
- Wait, and so, for the sake of interest, Eva Schultz - is it your wife?
- No, this is a fictional character. Joke may not be entirely successful.
- You are not married?
- No, and I do not plan yet. You know, I prefer relationships exclusively in social networks. They have many advantages compared to real ones.
βUh-uh ... but there may be many advantages, but what, excuse me, are you feeling?β
- You saw the possibilities of modern chips. Believe me, the sensations are almost indistinguishable from the real ones. By sensation, you mean sexual contact, I guess? I am sure that real contacts will finally be a thing of the past. This is dirty, unsafe and uncomfortable in principle.
- M-yes, probably ...
- Well, it was nice to meet you, Maxim.
- Mutually. Good luck.
βItβs interesting how Masha will react to such supporters of Martian values?β Or on the proposal to join these values? I'm afraid Iβll have to hang out on social networks myself, where no one will ever reveal the truth about himself, βthought Max.
He tried to arrange a scandal, demanded to return the money paid and provide logs of stay in the Martian dream, but his arguments lacked convincingness due to confusion and memory lapses. The manager, Aleksey Gorin, on the contrary, was extremely convincing and legally prepared. He immediately showed the dissatisfied client a record of his talks with representatives of DreamLand, a βsmartβ contract with Maxβs digital signature, and refused to give logs, citing the law on commercial secrets. As well as refused to return the money, pointing to the footnotes in small print to the terms of the contract, where it was fixed that because of the urgency of the order, the company is not responsible for possible failures in the program. Max also blamed on the law on consumer protection and on the fact that such footnotes clearly contradict him. However,he was not sure of this, because the Martian laws, constantly corrected and supplemented in the interests of corporations and lawyers, evolved in the direction of completely impassable casuistry. Moreover, in theory, the contract is contrary to law, could not be approved by an electronic notary. In theory, the neural network can not be fooled, but in practice, corporate lawyers are always aware of which classes of objects they are not yet trained to recognize.
He sat down on the steps in front of the building, swallowing the icy mineral water, Max experienced a keen sense of dΓ©jΓ vu. βA dream that you see in a dream, which is part of another dream. - Max was experiencing a deep existential crisis. βAnd why did I let any dubious businessmen dig in my head?β This is my only head, no one will give me a spare. He also gave almost two monthly income for such a dubious pleasure. Well, is not it an idiot?
Like Bolkonsky, Max looked up to realize the whole vanity of life compared to the beautiful, endless sky. But there was no one to pour out the grief; the yellow-red arch of the cave hung over it. Thus, an unpleasant, sucking fear of a ruthless hand that would pull him out, naked and helpless, settled in his soul forever, utter from a biovanna and on duty in a polite voice: βYour service time has expired, welcome to the real world.β
Max decided that all his troubles and problems come from the initial depravity of human nature. This nature, with all its congenital vices, will, like the devil, tempt the mind again and again, and the more perfect the mind becomes, the more refined the tempter becomes in its methods. And to win this fight can not be, it lasts forever.
Unfortunately, it happened that in a duel between the voice of cold reason and foolish desires, foolish desires won a decisive victory. No matter how hard Max tried, year after year, by the habit of driving his demons deeper inside, it was all in vain. Sometimes, plunging headlong into the cycle of daily minor problems at work and at home, he did not hear their voice at all and proudly thought that he had won the final victory. The demons did not forgive him of this pride. It was necessary only to stop running for a while and be left alone with himself, as they easily broke free and forced to capitulate the one who considered himself the master of his destiny. Yes, Max was weak and not ready to go, falling and rising again and again, through the thorns to distant stars. As it turned out, it is easier for him to pay and believe in any mirage that promises everything here and now.And how I would like to have a perfect mind impassive and unmistakable, like a car. Not that lazy, mortal lump of gray matter, doomed to forever fight the innate ailments of the physical shell. A pure mind, free from everything and immediately doing only what is right and necessary, without curved paths and stupid throwing between Scylla and Charybdis. Sitting on the steps and swallowing icy mineral water, Max vowed that he would sacrifice anything to get such an intelligence.Sitting on the steps and swallowing icy mineral water, Max vowed that he would sacrifice anything to get such an intelligence.Sitting on the steps and swallowing icy mineral water, Max vowed that he would sacrifice anything to get such an intelligence.
3.
Mind. All the evils of human beings are from the mind. But there are creatures and more shrewd. The mind does not interfere with them, it turns on only if necessary, and then it goes out easily too, so as not to interfere with quietly enjoying food, games and minor dirty tricks. If it were not for these dreams, he would not have woken up at all. To get rid of annoying dreams, you have to endure this always dissatisfied and terribly expensive mind. It is good that he himself already has an understanding of his own inferiority, so he will not be disturbed beyond necessity. But now you have to listen to him.
Yes, the man-from-dreams obviously does not know how to use his mind for its intended purpose, otherwise he would not fall into such scrape. But the new owner is much better. Her mind is turned on only for solving purely practical tasks and when all possibilities have been exhausted to shift these tasks to other males. Arseny, the hostess, identified as Lenochka, immediately liked, so to speak, from the first trial run of the claws in her delicate soft roundness. Emotional background is very pleasant, consisting of simple natural desires, not like a restless mind and barely restrained aggression of a person from dreams. While the man-from-dreams was rubbing how to care for his alleged pet, which he had to leave due to a difficult life situation, Arseny had already managed to make a couple of standard visits to establish control. A slight rumbling, playing blows with a soft paw, several olfactory marks - the contact was established almost immediately. Five minutes later, she didnβt call him anything other than Musica or Mr. Fluffy, which inspired obvious optimism about the limits of what was permitted. True, the male Lenochka turned out to be as terrible as Lenochka herself as a host. Even worse than man-from-dreams in terms of conflict potential. No wonder they found each other. Arseny could not make any contact with him, let alone control. In addition to the obvious threat emanating from the male, nothing more was read in the emotional background, as if this emotional background was not at all. Namely, the male was the source of human-from-dreams problems. No other approaches to him, except through Lenochka, were visible, and in the pair, unfortunately, the male clearly dominated, and to quickly change this state of affairs was not possible. Well, at least he did not perceive Arseny as a threat, the man-from-dreams convinced Lena to say that the new pet was imposed on her by a girlfriend. If the innocent dirty trick, like a slightly torn armchair, which the standard owner had never considered to be a dirty trick, the male promised to crank it through a meat grinder, then it would be terrible to think what punishment would have fallen upon Arsenyβs head if they knew about his relationship with the person - from-dreams. And the persuasion of the bearer, with tears in her eyes, did not save Senya from the unpleasant pulling of the scruff, which was a very bad sign.
Oh, how great it would be to forget all these dreams and make the hostess find a male easier. After a couple of months of treatment, ordinary people would have become like silk, and Senya would not have known grief until the end of his days. Yes, the life of a fluffy parasite is optimal from the point of view of the relation of energy costs to the pleasure obtained. But you have to work with what is. Of course, he immediately began to allocate pheromones to increase the sexual arousal of the mistress, but just in case. There was little hope that this method would be possible to enter the control of the male. He did not dare to influence the male himself, the animal's instinct suggested that the slightest doubt in his natural origin would end sadly. In general, the mind argued that a direct call is absolutely safe, subject to the procedure. No one person is able to recognize his tricks if he is not looking for them directly, but Arseny chose to trust his instincts.
The primary task was to get into the office of the male, where he spent all the meetings and stored important data. Unfortunately, he always closed it from the inside or outside, while Lenochka had access to the office only as a service staff. Senya, of course, rubbed around her and then tried to hide unnoticed between the table and the battery, but he was thrown out without sentiment with the most natural kick in the ass.
In truth, at first he was not particularly worried. Sooner or later, simply according to the law of probability, he would be able to get into the office, and there already is a matter of technology. He easily spied the admin passwords from the home network and, accordingly, could turn off hidden cameras or view password-protected data from laptops, for example, Lenochka's extremely valuable selfie after a shower. But nothing, in this matter gradualness equals security. That's only after today's sleep, everything is sharply complicated. And the day began beautifully: from a trip to a manicure, where Arseny, as usual, delighted all the glamorous girlfriends. Then he settled down comfortably on the belly of the hostess, who was leafing through a silly female saytik. And after all, nothing foreshadowed this disgusting vision.
A second ago, his mind was in the warmth and comfort of a luxury penthouse in Krasnogorsk, and now you have to contemplate the completely uncomfortable ruins of the east. Here is the bridge over the Yauza. Yauza itself has long been turned into a nasty smelly streamlet, barely visible under the piles of various garbage. Passed the building Baumanki. The university was already ten years on its last legs, but the buildings were still maintained in a more or less normal condition. The man began to climb further along Hospital Street, when he suddenly crossed with a huge guy who had turned out of the gateway. And the guy, instead of going his own way, addressed the question, after which often there is a serious adjustment of plans for the next evening.
- Bro, and no smoke? - the guy's voice resembled a nail rattle on the glass.
The guy was really hefty, but he was wiry and agile. Aggressive-punk look: unshaven, in a faded black T-shirt and jeans, heavy boots with high berets, with evil eyes and stiff disheveled hair. His hands and wrists, peeking out of his jacket, were covered with blue-green tattoos depicting either a cobweb or a barbed wire, with infernal creatures entangled in it. The dark, flat face expressed no emotion. Of the special marks, there was still a scar going down through the eyebrow.
Yes, we must give him his due, the man did not make himself a hero, but wisely pulled back. Sorry, not far away. The door of the minivan, standing on the side of the road, suddenly drove off to the side, two bogey in masks immediately twisted and dragged the person inside. The big man climbed in and slammed the door.
- Hey, athlete, che, a lot of health? Twitch stop.
βHey, stop breaking my hands, I wonβt jerk,β the man said hoarsely.
- Vova, in kind, handcuff him.
- Who are you?
βI'm Tom, and these are my friends,β the punk guy grinned.
- American or something?
- No, the call is such.
βObviously, otherwise Iβm not very American.β My name is Denis, nice to meet you.
- Stop playing the fool. Our boss, you know him perfectly well, to you an assignment.
- I don't know anyone, you confused me with someone.
- I can refresh my memory, only in your best interest once again not to strain me. In short, I put in my pocket the cell number and code, you will find there a card with keys for fifty thousand eurocoins, for pocket expenses. Call your friend from Telekom, Max, you say that you need to meet. Designate a place where you can quietly pick it up and pick it up. Then immediately call me and tell me who I will tell. You buy the tools yourself, you have connections. If you are tempted to deal with you, say that you are from Tom. Just look, the client is needed safe and sound. How specifically to execute, think for yourself, but if you lighten up or fail, we will merge you, Iβm not going to blame me.
- No, are you kidding or what? As I do not blink, he has the same chip that writes everything for the telecom Security Council. I will not do anything, bring me down right away. Do you think I'm an idiot, like you will keep me alive after this?
- Do not ssy, my friend, no one will touch you if you do everything clean. Our godfather does not give up useful people. On the contrary, you will receive another poltos for the work and new documents. How to contact, so that no one knows where and why the client is going, think for yourself. Time we give you a week, so do not slow down. So that you do not baragozil, we will make a hammer.
Denis felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder.
βYou now have several million nanorobots in your blood, and by their signal we can always find you.β After seven days, the robots will launch a deadly poison. Do not look for the antidote, the poison is unique. Be careful with the screening, if the connection is not more than two hours, the poison will go automatically. If you try to get rid of them, the poison will also go automatically.
- Hey, asshole, let the poison at once, what you are spinning here is complete bullshit. Anyway, I'm not a tenant.
- Stop breaking. We are talking in a good way with you, but we can and in a bad way. What happened to Jan, more flowers compared to what awaits you. You will agree to everything, even chop up your own mother into pieces, only before that you suffer a little. Pakhan promised that he would cover you, which means he would cover you, he keeps his word.
βLet Arumov personally promise me this,β Denis asked with an impudent grin and immediately received a painful blow to the kidneys.
- Keep your mouth shut, bitch. I give you one last chance, either do what is said, or it will be a bad option. Me, you know, pohrenu, which option you choose.
- Yes, burn in hell.
βOkay, okay, I agree,β Dan yelled when they started beating him. Having received for the prevention of a few more strikes on the ribs, he flew out of the van to the pitted asphalt.
- How can I contact you? - croaked Denis, sitting on the pavement.
- I'll contact you myself.
The minivan rushed up the hill and quickly disappeared from view. Dan lowered a little more, cursed his difficult life and the ancestors of Arumov up to the tenth knee and walked unsteadily back home.
"Well, what's the deal!" - Senya lazily stretched, showing the world to fall with sharp fangs and reluctantly tears from the warm belly. Helen already safely slept. Specially lull her was not required.
βYes, man-from-dreams has serious problems. And if he sticks flippers together in a week, he will have to be reasonable for the rest of his days. Jolly perspective. You can, of course, turn off the cameras and, under hypnosis, pull out of the hostess everything she knows about Arumov, but this is unlikely to give anything. So first you need to send a message to the curator. β
Arseny deftly jumped on the shelf of the furniture wall and not very deftly knocked over a teddy bear, closing the eye of the camera installed by the people of Arumov. Then, no longer hiding, he moved to the table and quickly sent a brief report and request to the curator from the laptop. And curled up on a closed device, he waited.
Denis again walked over the overgrown garden to the Bauman bust. Something confused him in the environment, but for a long time he could not understand what it was. Small stones crunched underfoot, old trees rustled. The day was windy and dank, he could smell the wet grass and the faded leaves. Yes, the sounds familiar to the city did not reach here, like the hooters of cars and the hum of the human crowd, but for the East it was common even in residential areas. But itβs still strange somehow: itβs just that he licked his bruises in his kitchen, and when and how did he get to the park ...? Just sitting on a bench in the center, Denis realized what was wrong. As in the past times, he realized this when he saw a large striped cat, conveniently sprawled on the bench opposite.
Milaha Arseny did not seem to cause the slightest fear and never showed a drop of aggression. Now, he just ran his claws into cracked wood and blinked at the sun that appeared behind the clouds. What kind of danger can come from such a cute cat? But it always seemed to Denis that this incredible creature, crawling out of the most secret depths of the imperial laboratories, was just making fun of him. He clearly saw this grin in his narrowed yellow eyes. And he carefully studies his mind, his strengths and weaknesses, then to report to his secret masters. Although, according to Semyon, the only curator of these creatures was himself.
βWell, soaring, you seem to be in full swing,β came the voice of Semyon, who was crouching beside him, distracting Denis from playing with his cat in his eyes.
- Yeah, I'm in trouble. We didnβt even have time to draw up a manifesto, as Arumov had already received the main fighter against the regime. And so reliably, do not twitch ...
- What did you want, old school. But do not despair, our furry friend in his lair is a serious trump card. Great, by the way, was the idea about this Lenochka. Maybe some other ideas have appeared?
- Not yet, except to try to lure Arumov for the personal transfer of Max, to seize and beat out the nanobots' disable codes. True, you first need to quietly agree with Max himself.
- A very dangerous option for you, for me and for your friendship. Arumov, after all, can make an appointment with a small personal army. And how many fighters can we set? And the real value of Max is not clear as a bait.
- This is so, thought out loud. You better say: dug something about Arumov or their small party with SRI RSAD?
- About the colonel, nothing new: he jumped out, like the devil from a snuffbox, without a past, but with a whole army of personally loyal militants.
- And about the telecoms super-soldiers did not dig?
- As for super-soldiers, there is such a hypothesis: after the second space, when our troops turned around from Mars, some of the ghosts secretly hid in underground caves under Fula and other cities. I donβt know how they survive there, but there are quite a few indirect facts of their presence. It is clear that they are stubborn guys, so the guerrillas are quietly, and the Martians are writing off all sorts of radicals as terrorist acts. For the Martians, they apparently create serious problems, maybe worse than agents of the MIC: they do not smoke them out, and punitive expeditions from the dungeons do not always return. I think that in the end they managed to persuade all or part of the ghosts to cooperate. The traitors gave them the decoded ghost genotype, so the Martians began to rivet them. And the Inkis Security Council is simply used as cannon fodder in exchange for a place on the Consultative Council. Or another option: Telecom is troubled by this topic without its sworn friends from Neyrotek and MDT, so they placed everything in Moscow. Against whom it is being prepared, there are also several options: maybe against those ghosts who have not repented and not realized, or maybe Telecom wants to gain a competitive advantage in a fair market struggle. In short, you need to dig further.
- And Arumov, think, for whom he works? Telecom?
- It is unlikely, I think he has some plans of his own, he does not look like an amateur to help the Martians unselfishly.
- Yes, I thought so too. But Leo Schultz, it seems, on the contrary loves Martians. Why did they sing like that?
- It is necessary to distinguish between the concept of "feeds the Martians sincere unrequited love" and "wants to occupy a high position in the Martian elite." I think that our cunning Schulz is also playing some kind of double game with his goals, and, probably, he does not sound the entire story about Arumov to her masters from Mars.
- And what about the telecom security and loyalty checks?
- I do not know, while we can only guess. All the more or less reliable info and I laid out to you. Let's better think what to do next.
- Let's think. Who have brain operations?
- Well, actually, Deniska, you have a brain and the main ideological inspirer. I am so old, hrych, here I breed cats. There will be more data from the replicant about Arumov, then, maybe, it will illuminate me. You'd better find out what your relationship is with your friend.
- Yes, you know, you canβt directly ask, the telecom chip, and the handsome Tom is now breathing in the back. Maybe Max too cat to throw for a secret connection?
- If he is a serious lump in Telecom, you can check the cat. And he himself, if unreliable, then easily surrender us. Are you sure about him?
- Not. Were like bosom friends, but when he dumped on Mars five years ago, we somehow got lost. With whom he was hanging out there, hell knows. But it would be necessary to talk, he called me, he wanted to meet. And the sooner the better. Now itβs probably very dangerous, but to pull further, hoping that the situation with Tom will somehow be resolved, I see no reason. And it would be good to warn Max. You did not think up how to transfer a secret message to a person with a Telecom neurochip?
- No, Dan, we have already discussed this many times. Any secret cipher or code system requires at least prior agreement with Max himself. And she can easily attract the attention of the SAT.
- We need to come up with one that does not attract. Like you play chess and when you touch a certain figure, you say important information, and the rest is empty chatter.
- Kindergarten, forgive me. Such ancient tricks in our enlightened age hardly prokanaet. And anyway, it would be necessary to agree first with Max what to touch there.
- Suppose he guesses along the way.
- Dan, for the hundredth time the same thing. If he guesses, why would the sexuality who watches his chip not guess.
- With chess for example. We must come up with a trick based on what only two of us know.
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Chapter 2. The Martian Dream
Chapter 3. The Spirit of the Empire
Chapter 2. The Martian Dream
A young scientist Maxim Minin strolled along a small hill on the surface of Mars, leaving shallow trails on the red sand, who arrived on the Tule cosmodrome for the leading Martian corporation Telecom-ru for twenty minutes ago on an INKIS passenger flight. Maxim sincerely believed that there was no Martians conspiracy against the rest of humanity, and the revelations conveyed in a drunken whisper in the kitchen after the third bottle are just pathetic excuses for marginalized losers. He was going to work hard, with the support of his sophisticated mind, to achieve a cushy little place somewhere on the top of the telecom pyramid. Max sincerely believed in the fulfillment of his Martian dream.
')
He was dressed very casually: in a woolen knitted sweater, slightly worn jeans and black boots with thick soles. A whirlwind of fine red dust shot up over the stones, but the grains of sand, obedient to the will of the program, instantly melted like early snow.
On Mars, personally owned by Max, it was this: half real, half fictional. Not far from the hill, a translucent wall of an enormous power dome broke off vertically into the ground; it was created by super-power ring emitters of the electromagnetic field, which crowned the metal towers of a kilometer height. All seven towers, forming a regular heptagon, and the eighth, the highest, located in the center, were visible from the place where Max stood. The nearest tower with its gray gloomy bulk propped up the dark Martian sky, the distant ones were visible with thin lines crossing the horizon. Each of them was attached to its own nuclear power plant to power the windings of the emitters. A crown of miniature lightning sparkled and crackled around the rings, recalling the terrible power of the towers going through the metal body.
The hexagon, inscribed in the circumference of a half-destroyed, shallow crater, covered the area of ββseveral hundred square kilometers with a force dome. In a space filled with a breathable atmosphere, a quite ordinary earthly city emerged, and the spaces free from buildings were filled with pine-groves and transparent water bodies that were dear to the heart. Even many species of feathered creatures, not to mention beasts, have adapted to the life inside.
At the whim of Max, the place where he stood, heard the sounds of the big city he was used to in Moscow: the roar of the crowd, the beeps of cars, the rattling and ringing, measured strokes from construction sites. Of course, real Martian cities are hidden deep in caves, there are no signs of dangerous and expensive power domes, and when a detector detects any form of life other than human, a biological alarm signal is turned on. But virtual reality gives a wide scope for any fantasy.
Near the side of the power dome, like an artificial lake, a smooth concrete field of the cosmodrome with radar bowls and turret towers at the edges spread. At the mooring locks, there were several heavy cargo ships. They resembled giant beetles with a fuselage, smoothly passing to the bottom of the engine nozzles. The passenger terminals were reddish domes made of plasma 3D printing of Martian sand and stones. They even had built-in transparent areas for admiring the surroundings, only slightly inferior in strength to the meter-high ceilings of the dome.
On a granite pedestal in front of the passenger terminals of the cosmodrome, a silver bird with short wings and a characteristic angular body of the first shuttle vehicles proudly looked up. Tattered and battered by a long life, she miraculously retained the thirst for great discoveries in the predatory glitter of the black nose and front edge of the wings. The best cars always carry a strange combination of properties - the spirit of the machine that makes them almost alive. The silver bird on the pedestal was just such a machine. She never sat on the surface of Mars, delivering only descent vehicles, but enjoyed an honorable rest here. Every day technicians in spacesuits blasted the ship with compressed air, knocking out red dust from the smallest cracks of the hull that began to collapse. Especially carefully they worked around the inscription "Viking" on the side of the ship. Nose "Viking" was oriented to the geographical north pole of Mars. On the opposite side of the terminal, the βStormβ looked to the south, from the west and east, the INKIS cosmodrome was guarded by βOrionβ and βUralβ - four famous ships that won the leadership of the global space race for Russia at the dawn of the interplanetary flight era.
On this background, and Max stood. He read the message, although in his opinion it would be enough for a short message in the chat. But his girlfriend demanded the illusion of live communication, and fast communication was too expensive.
βHello, Masha, I flew normally, without any special incidents. Inkis ships are quite reliable. True, to spend three weeks in cryos - pleasure is below average. Two more transplants at orbital stations, moreover. But the prices, as you understand, on INKIS flights are significantly lower than those of competitors. Immediately I recognize Telecom - miserly, damn it, on a business class compartment on the NASA-Spacelines liner that reach Mars in five days, they will not fork out for anything. They say you have to be a patriot, although what the hell is patriotism.
But because of local gravity, more problems arise: Iβll raid the walls with overclocking and smash the local ones. It will be necessary to enroll in a special gym, otherwise in a year or two I will be able on Earth only to ride in a wheelchair. In general, gravity can easily get used to, wean it a little harder, but it is also possible, that's what really strains me here, so these are Martian problems with ecology. This, of course, at the other extreme, in our country, the ecology in Moscow is so bad that rats and cockroaches die, but as everyone knows, nobody cares. And before the flight to Mars I was still tortured with tests on environmental literacy on Earth, and the training films were constantly played during the flight, and besides, I have to install special programs on my chip that monitor my law-abidingness. Such a feeling is that, on Mars, all earthlings, by default, are considered to be some kind of pig, striving to riddle everything around. Such a local variety of boorishness: here are the visiting fools, and we, the indigenous Martians, will teach their mind to reason. And God forbid, I will throw a cigarette butt or stub on the floor, my own chip will immediately tell you where it should be, that is, the environmental service, and they will impose a huge, enormous fine on me, and in case of relapse, they can solder prison terms. After all, come on, and there are no more states, and the eco-service scarecrow is more terrible than the native KGB or the MIC, at the mere mention of it the arms and legs are taken away from all Martians, nasty, damn it.
I donβt know if the garbage is so dangerous, if it can cause a massive epidemic, or if some damn near hell can provoke an accident in life support systems. All this, in my opinion, is as scary as it is unlikely. Death in an isolated sector from an unknown contagion or death from decompression is a terrible thing, but as they say, fearing wolves is not going to the forest. It was necessary to settle on a planet with a hostile external environment in order to shake over each incomprehensible spot: βAh, suddenly it's an alien mold, it will enter the body and Martian toadstores will sprout from meβ. Honestly, people who have lived a bit on Mars seem to be crazy about this topic, I heard a lot of such horrors while flying, which is enough for a few first-class thrillers. It seems that someone deliberately introduces into the mass consciousness the fear of accidents, fires, and pardon the term, "musor-phobia." All Martians are such sissies, damn it. But pureness is purely external, does not extend to the cultural sphere of life. From the local advertising, I am shocked at all: no wit, one unprincipled emphasis on consumption and base instincts.
However, as I said, you get used to everything, and to excesses in the Martian "internal politics" too. I do not smoke, and I have got used to cleanliness since childhood, so there is no reason for me to be afraid of eco service. The main thing is that I will work in the best Russian company, for the sake of a chance to achieve something in life, you can suffer a little.
And yet, I have not yet met a single real Martian. Do you remember my grandmother scared everyone: βThey are huge under three meters tall, pale, skinny with thin, whitish hair and blackening eyes that look like underground spidersβ. I thought, the closer to Mars, the worse the Martians, and they were neither in the ship nor in the stations. But this is probably understandable: they rarely fly to Earth and, in any case, INKIS do not trust their precious bodies. Maybe the city will be different. But he accidentally met at the station with one employee of the Telecom security service. He says he flew on a business trip. It is strange that such types work in Telecom. It shows that he is not a simple security guard, and why should a simple security guard fly on business trips. Caucasian roots are clearly visible in this Ruslana: he doesnβt confuse facial features and manner of speaking, with faces and cases, but there is a characteristic accent. No, you know, I normally treat people of other nationalities ... But this Ruslan, in short, is a bit like some kind of bandos. So, don't care, of course, doesnβt we have a little under the windows of all kinds of personalities. I probably imagined Telecom in a somewhat idealistic way: the Martian corporation was hoping, the Martians were in charge of everything - reasonable, executive, conscientious. I thought Mars is the world of nanotechnology and virtual reality. And that Mars, while one continuous strained. Eco service is still flowers, here is a real beast here. All free services and programs are messed up with advertisements right up to the roof, and try to lock something up, the eco-service will seem like a mother to your own. Come on, pirated programs, itβs clear to any fool that this is no good. But what about the law on bots you probably have not heard. I forgot to add to the bot a signature that he is a bot and everything, dry crackers, and welcome to the uranium mines.
So, summarizing, I must honestly admit to you, dear Masha, that the first acquaintance with Mars did not meet my best expectations, however, no one promised that it would be easy. In addition, if there is a full tukhlyak, I will return back, as agreed, but if everything is fine, then you will come in a couple of months, when we will complete all the documents. Well, okay, it's time for me to round out, I'll write more in the evening. Say hello to everyone, most importantly, you also send letters, do not use this quick connection: she is dear as the devil knows what. All I kiss, I have to run. β
Max added a few picturesque landscapes of the red planet to the file: an indispensable view from the top of a twenty-kilometer Olympus and the grand sheer walls of the Mariner Valley and sent a letter. He jumped out of virtual reality and began, cursing, to close the advertising windows, which were an unpleasant bonus to any "free" application. He calmed down only when a translucent user interface menu remained in sight. Gently moved his stiff limbs and irritably pulled out a synthetic shirt and the same pants. He was extremely disliked by Martian clothing, very durable and beautiful, but without a single natural villus or speck of dust that can cause allergies in the locally weak health. Grandmother's sweaters, socks, as well as the rest of the βenvironmentally dirtyβ clothes, were sewn up in airtight bags even at customs.
A new acquaintance was approaching the networked cafe table where Max was located. He was dressed in a gray suit of expensive synthetic, which looked and felt like wool, while maintaining its special environmental properties. Ruslan was tall, tightly knit and stocky, very strong looking, as if, and did not live at half gravity. This, of course, would have distinguished him from the crowd if he knew that he was not using cosmetic programs. On INKIS ships, they did not really work, but on Mars, βnaturalβ appearance was also encountered infrequently, like clothing and food, in general, like everything natural. As the eternal advertising read: βImage is nothing, provider is everythingβ! Max would like to correct Ruslan's image: to his proud eagle profile, high cheekbones and dark skin, it was necessary to add a turban, a scimitar curve on his belt and white minarets in the background to create a beautiful image in its completeness. Well, he didnβt fit in with the image of an executive security officer who spends his work days online, carefully observing the internal life of the corporation. Do not need physical training for such work, but to preserve it with a small gravity oh, how difficult it is: without medical intervention and daily training can not do. Hardly Ruslan is such a fan of a healthy lifestyle. Maybe he is some kind of performer of delicate instructions, or, according to Russian tradition, the task of the security service is to catch employees who are dissatisfied with the working conditions of employees running away from the company. Max was aware that his assumptions are not supported by anything, it is much more likely that Ruslan is some petty boss and he has the time and money to keep track of his appearance.
Ruslan's βbouncingβ gait, usually characteristic of people who have recently arrived from the world with normal gravity, approached the table, pushed the empty chair with a creak and sat opposite, folding his hands on the table.
- Well how are you? - casually asked Max.
βThe prosecutorβs case, brother.β
Ruslan took a hard look to the side, drummed his fingers on the table and asked another question.
- You have an old chip?
- Well, it is possible to change the chip on Mars at least every year, and in Moscow it is a bit expensive and the type is a bit risky, given the quality of medicine.
- This is understandable, only in the company of local people who mow under the Martians, do not blunder. All the same, that most recognize themselves as a complete sucker.
Max winced slightly, his interlocutor had no tact at all, which was what was expected in principle.
- And what is it like that?
- No need to drive your hands and twitch your fingers, it is immediately clear that your chip is controlled by movements, not thoughts. Put yourself some makeup to hide it.
- Yes, nothing more to do, or what? What are these cheap Ponte? In order to properly control the chip only by the thought teams, one must be born with it in the head.
- Exactly, Max, you were not born with a chip in your head, unlike Telecom bosses.
- No, not born. Like you were born? - in the voice of Max closely intertwined annoyance and distrust.
He tried to think less about the fact that a lot of people who were born with a neurochip in their head should work in Telecom. And, in terms of skills of working with neurochips, he, for sure, is no good for them. Although, by the way, HR specialists at the Moscow branch of Telecom appreciated his knowledge very highly. βDamn this new friend,β thought Max, βyes, he would have gone in a certain direction.β
- If you do not care about public opinion, really do not care, you can do as you prefer and not bathe. But the cool Martian guys control the electronics with the power of thought, and the rest of them get it in one place. It does not come that you have to be born with a chip in your head and learns all this from childhood. It's like playing football, if you havenβt played in ten years, then Peleβs laurels are no longer shining. So it's easier and cheaper to press virtual buttons. Would you like to play like Pele?
- In football or what?
- Not football, of course, is that so, figuratively speaking?
βThis is what a cynical brute I came across,β Max thought irritably. βAfter all, he continues to hit the most sensitive place.β
- This is generally a dubious statement.
βWhat statement?β
- About the fact that if you have not played since childhood, then you canβt see any real success. Not everyone since early childhood knows what talents he has.
- Yes, all the talents are laid in early childhood, then you will not change anything. Fate is not chosen.
- From any rule there are exceptions.
- There are one in a million. - Easily and indifferently agreed Ruslan.
These words were spoken with such cold confidence that Max already caught a slight chill. As if the ghost of a certain generalized Martian Pele appeared nearby and began, with a barely perceptible smile of complete superiority, to craft his own inaccessible feints with the ball.
- Okay, it's time for me to meet with the local football coach.
Max has already made no secret of the fact that he is experiencing easy discomfort from communicating with a new friend.
- I can give you a lift, my car arrived for me.
- Yes, it is not necessary, I do not care to the central office of Telecom.
- You do not strain, okay. I do not have the same chip as yours and cosmetics. Only this is real for me on the drum, but you, if you want to join the crowd of all these pseudo-Marcians, get used to being seen as a guest from Moscow.
- Are you used to mean?
- I say, I have a different social circle. And you live with it, believe me, without extra ponto in the race to the local trough, nowhere. A simple guy from Moscow has zero chances.
- Something I strongly doubt that the Martians care about cheap Ponts.
- You really do not look at these Martians.They certainly do not care. And you and me, for them, in general, the type of pets. I'm talking about the others who are hanging around. No one will say anything directly, but you will immediately feel the attitude. I did not want this to be an unpleasant surprise.
βI will deal with the local order somehow.β
- Of course, nothing started this conversation. Let's go give a ride.
Max knew well that it took quite a long time to get on trains, but there were almost no traffic jams on Mars due to the high tariffs for private cars and a well thought-out transport system, therefore, after weighing all the pros and cons, he decided that he would stand Ruslana society for another hour.
- To the central office dokinu, let's go.
Max entrusted the main baggage to the concerns of the trucking service, so now he traveled light. He once again examined the bag with an oxygen mask and a Geiger counter, and checked whether the ribbon of the flexible tablet, which increases the performance of the outdated neurochip, sits tightly on his arm. Over time, of course, you will have to implant more modern devices on yourself, but for now you have to do with what you have. Max got up from the table and resolutely headed after Ruslan. In the cafe no one paid them a drop of attention. It can be seen that only the bodies were present from the visitors, and the consciousnesses wandered in the labyrinths of the virtual world.
The path to the parking lay through a huge arrival hall, which was strikingly different from the hateful Russian reality. The feeling was as if at once transferred to some Brazilian carnival. Crowds of bots offering taxi services, hotels and entertainment portals, attacked any new user, like a pack of starving dogs. Merry airships floated under the high ceiling, exotic dragons and griffins shimmered in all the colors of the rainbow, fountains and lush tropical plants made their way out of the ground. Max, with annoyance, tried to shake off the texture of the flyer that had fallen off from his hands, next to which appeared a bright red diamond of the service message about the need to update the codecs. Immediately, a dark elf in an armored jacket attached to him, aggressively inviting him to try out the next multiplayer RPG for real men.
Neurochip reacted to this whole orgy by a sharp decrease in performance. The image went jerky, and some objects began to blur and turn into a set of nasty colorful squares. And, by a strange coincidence, the models of advertising bots did not even think of being pixelated, unlike real objects. Stumbling on the escalator, Max spat on everything and began to actively swing his arms, trying to clear the visual channel.
- Problems? - Ruslan politely asked down the escalator.
- Come on! I just can not understand how to remove ads.
- Have you already installed free apps from mariner play?
βThey won't let me out of the spaceport without them.β
Ruslan showed an unexpected concern, supporting Max by the elbow when he got off the escalator.
- It was necessary to read the license agreement.
- Two hundred pages?
- There somewhere on the one hundred and twentieth it is written that a weak chip is your personal problem. For advertising paid, no one will cut it. Unscrew the visual settings to a minimum.
- What kind of shit is that ?! Either see screenshots, or solid pixels beyond ten meters.
- Get used to it. I warned you: in comparison with lovers of smoothies and segways from Neyrotek, I am just a sample of politeness. You still appreciate my honesty, brother.
- Of course ... bro.
- Get a service connection from Telecom will be easier.
When Max was in the underground garage, he was a little confused at first. The poorly lit, seemingly semi-abandoned room was stretching in all directions from the elevator as far as the eye could see. The parking was a real forest of floor-to-ceiling columns, arranged at regular intervals, with lighting so scanty that the bands of light alternated in it with bands of half-light. Ruslan stopped in front of a heavy tinted SUV and turned around. His face completely sank in the shadows and from the impersonal gloomy silhouette clearly breathed something otherworldly. It was as if the ferryman was waiting for someone who was destined for him to take him to the underworld. The low force of gravity added to the mystical mindset their five kopecks. Max did not distinguish the solid border of the floor in the twilight and after each step for a couple of moments he hung in the air, from which it seemedthat he will now float in a gray mist, like a lost soul. βI donβt have any coins to pay for services, I risk hanging forever between worlds.β Max unscrewed the visual settings and the other world disappeared, turning into a regular underground parking.
Ruslan smoothly touched the heavy car.
- What exactly do you do at work, if not a secret? - Max decided to use a new acquaintance to get a shred of insider information.
- Yes, basically I look through personal correspondence, all sorts of love messages there and so on. Mortality boredom, you know.
βI understand, I understand, that is still a job,β Max smiled politely, and looking at the serious face of the interlocutor, he added, somewhat surprised. - So this is not a joke or what?
βWhat jokes can be, buddy,β Ruslan blurred in a smile. - I, of course, have completely different responsibilities, but your concern about your personal life will quickly pass. All Telecom employees can check any letters and conversations, regardless of official or any other.
Ruslan grinned crookedly and, a bit later, he continued:
- For important employees there is even a special server in the depths of Telecom, to which everything you see and hear is written from the chip.
- No luck to these important employees.
- Yes, if you saw the guys who dig in our dirty laundry ... Canned residents, in general, do not care what they see there.
- In my opinion, all this is illegal, prohibited, including by the decisions of the Advisory Board.
- Get used to it, there is no law on Mars, besides that, which establishes an office for an employee. Any problems, look for another job.
- Yeah, to get a job in a corporation, where for the slightest offense they are whipped with rods.
- Life is a cruel thing. All lovers of private life inject waiters and other service-suckers, nobody cares about what they are talking about and what they think.
βWell, there is no absolute freedom, you always have to sacrifice something,β Max said philosophically.
- There are no rights and freedoms at all, there is only a balance of forces and interests of different players. If you are not a player, this balance will have to be kept.
βWell, well, and soon we will meet with the local Al Capone, who taxis Telekomovskoy SB? This new friend, of course, is still the type, you need to be more careful about him, but such an acquaintance may well be useful, β- reasoned Max.
Max always wanted to live on Mars. Every day, looking out of the windows at the dilapidated, extinct Moscow, he thought about the red planet. The slender spiers of the towers, the beauty of the underworld and the infinite freedom of mind pursued him in restless dreams. Maxβs Martian dream was a little different from the average proprietary: he didnβt dream only of virtual and material goods. His understandable desire for wealth and independence are closely intertwined with the clearly unattainable, almost communist, dreams of bringing justice and happiness to all in the world. He, of course, did not tell anyone about this, but sometimes he quite seriously believed that he would be able to achieve such power and wealth on Mars, which would turn the pack of cruel transnational corporations into the likeness of Mars, which he saw in childhood dreams. And as an object of improvement, he was not satisfied either by Moscow,not even Europe or America, but only Mars. Sometimes he acted very irrationally, sacrificing to dreams, much more lucrative offers from non-Marshian companies. Max rushed to the red planet and did not want to listen to the arguments of reason, being somehow certain that the walls into which he had unsuccessfully pounded in Moscow would suddenly magically collapse in front of him on Mars. No, he, of course, planned everything in advance: to get a job in Telecom, first rent housing, then he could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved his top-priority tasks, quietly tear the way to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.much better deals from non-Marshian companies. Max rushed to the red planet and did not want to listen to the arguments of reason, being somehow certain that the walls into which he had unsuccessfully pounded in Moscow would suddenly magically collapse in front of him on Mars. No, he, of course, planned everything in advance: to get a job in Telecom, first rent housing, then he could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved his top-priority tasks, quietly tear the way to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.much better deals from non-Marshian companies. Max rushed to the red planet and did not want to listen to the arguments of reason, being somehow certain that the walls into which he had unsuccessfully pounded in Moscow would suddenly magically collapse in front of him on Mars. No, he, of course, planned everything in advance: to get a job in Telecom, first rent housing, then he could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved his top-priority tasks, quietly tear the way to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.I planned everything beforehand: to get a job in Telekom, to rent housing first, then I could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved my top priorities, quietly tread the path to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.I planned everything beforehand: to get a job in Telekom, to rent housing first, then I could take an apartment on credit, transport Masha, and then, having solved my top priorities, quietly tread the path to the shining peak. But it was not a career for the sake of a career, or a career for the sake of a family, it was all for the sake of fulfilling a silly dream.
As a child, Max visited the Martian capital, and the fabulous city enchanted him. He walked everywhere with his mouth open and his eyes wide open. Like a monstrous soul catcher, the fabulous city of Thule caught him in a glittering net, and from then on an invisible, tingling string stretched Max all the time with him. Often it seemed like insanity. When Max was twelve, he collected models of rovers, ships, collected rare stones from the depths of the red planet, on the shelf he had a large, almost meter-long Viking model, which he pasted for half a year. Gradually, he outgrew his toys, but he was pulled to Mars with the same force, as if someone was persistently whispering into his ear: "Leave, run, there you will find happiness and freedom." This mystical connection was in the foreground in his life, the rest: both friends and Masha,and the family flew somehow imperceptibly against the background of a global goal, although Max learned how to hide his indifference to everything mundane well. In the end, it was not the most destructive passion of those that possessed people, and Max learned to use it for good. At least, Masha was sure that all these titanic efforts were being made for the sake of their future family happiness. And the whole life of Max turned into a compromise between unrealizable dreams and what life circumstances dictated to him. Max constantly screamed in an exhausting pursuit for no one knows who, he was tormented by the following thoughts: βDamn, Iβll be thirty years old, and I'm still not on Mars. If I find myself there by the age of forty with Masha and two children, this will be a complete and final defeat. Yes, and I will never be there in this situation. We must do everything fasterwhile I'm still young and strong. β And he did everything even faster to the detriment of quality and everything else.
Max looked out the window: a heavy car was rushing, through a tangled network of underground tunnels, to the ancient walls of which the human hand never seemed to touch. There were almost no cars on the narrow, two-lane track. Occasionally, only the trucks with the emblem of the INCIS came across: a stylized head of an astronaut with a raised visor of a helmet, against the background of a planetary disk.
βWhere are we going anyway? - With a little anxiety, Max thought, continuing to stare out the window. βDoesnβt look like a busy highway to Thule.β
βThis is the official INKIS highway, we will reach it in thirty minutes,β Ruslan answered the unspoken question. - And on the usual road, would crawl half an hour.
- Are we the only ones who are smart on the official roads?
- Of course, it is closed to ordinary carriers, just INKIS and Telecom are linked by an old close friendship.
βFriendship with them,β Max thought skeptically. βIt would be interesting to find out what this type actually does.β
Looking at the ribbon of the road unfolding in front of him, he wondered how Ruslan so calmly oriented himself in the maze of tunnels and caves along which they sped at breakneck speed. The track constantly turned, then flew up, then collapsed down, intersecting with other, even narrower roads. It was illuminated very poorly, the lights ahead were snatched from the darkness only by giant stalactites and stalagmites, in some places closely approaching the asphalt canvas. Past the whistling swept congress on the next side branch with a gravel surface. With him just twisted clanging mine bulldozer, crunching crushing small stones under him. Ruslan, not slowing down, overtook him almost closely, not paying attention to the gravel flying from under the huge wheels of the bulldozer, and then immediately dived down and to the right for an unlighted closed turn.Max frantically clutched at the door handle and thought that either Ruslan is an unknown distant descendant of Schumacher and knows the heart by heart, or there is some kind of trick here. He almost immediately found the interface of the navigation computer and once again was amazed at how conveniently the management of objects on the Martian Internet was implemented: you do not need to turn on the search or install new drivers, just poke into the device icon and it is ready to use. A map of the spaceport neighborhoods was reflected on the windshield, and above the road appeared green arrow indicators with turns with all the necessary explanations: the turning radius, the recommended passing speed and other data. In addition, the smart computer completed the image of closed or poorly lit sections of the road, and, as Max understood, from the movement of oncoming trucks,The image was broadcast in real time.
- Does your autopilot not work?
βIt works, of course,β Ruslan shrugged. - These tracks are one of the few places where you can steer yourself. You know what the problem is to buy a wheelbarrow with a wheel and pedals. I donβt understand the joke of putting a couple of hundred creeps behind the wheelbarrow and riding a passenger. Worse, fucking than non-alcoholic beer and virtual women. Fucking nerds, shove their chips where necessary and where not necessary.
- Yes, the problem ... There is one bearded Moscow joke about unmanned control, the truth is not particularly funny.
- Well, you tell me, che.
- So the husband and his wife are in bed after the fulfillment of marital duties. Husband asks: "Honey, did you like it?" βNo, dear, before you did much better. Have you started another woman !? ββ No, dear, it's just that at this time I was always cutting with the orcs, but my chip coped for me β.
- This is not a joke, - Ruslan grinned. - About some office rats, I do not even doubt. Fuck them real women ... There is, by the way, even a service like this, relatively recently appeared. Called "body control." The chip itself takes you to work and home, for example, and at that time you can drag your orcs as much as you like.
- Is it like a zombie? Eerie, probably, to meet such on the streets?
- Yes, you will not notice anything. Well, there is a cormorant of some kind, well, he is staring at one point, now everyone is like that. A good chip even for questions like: βhey kid, thereβs no smoke,β will answer.
- What progress has reached. Are boxing skills built into these chips?
- Yeah, in someone's pink dreams. Think of it yourself, where does force and reaction come from? There are either some expensive implants or sweats in the gym. This is only in Warhammer: I paid three kopecks for my account and became this, fucking space marines.
- Lousy some service turns out. Who knows what your chip will do for you, who is then responsible for the consequences?
- As usual, read the agreement: broken bread - your personal problems.
βAre there bad areas on Mars?β
βAs long as you want,β Ruslan shrugged, βwhether you know, working in uranium mines does not contribute, uh-uh ...
β βThe formation of a rich inner world,β Max suggested.
- Right. So, that there are a lot of areas patrolled by local gangs, but you just do not show up there and will avoid many troubles.
- These are the same areas? - decided, just in case, to clarify Max.
- The area of ββthe first settlement for example. This type of gamma zone, but in fact there is high radiation and low oxygen. Local scumbags love to replace the lost body parts with all kinds of piercing and cutting.
βIt's interesting that corporations can't figure out these scumbags?β
- How to understand?
- What means how ?! In the underworld, where everyone has neurochip in their heads, what are the problems of overfishing all order offenders?
- Well, this is you - a law-abiding employee of Telecom, has already installed all police applications on the chip. And someone walks with the left chip, and to some contractors of βUranium Oneβ or Minatom, this is basically a flashlight: who got there to work for them. And in general, why to strain for the same Telekom or Neurotek? Shpana from the first settlement will never climb on them. And again, the botany on the segway is somehow not pressing the hand of some adept of free software on his own. Need for this relevant experts.
- And you yourself, by chance, did not come from such an area? - made a cautious guess to Max.
- No, I was born on Earth. But the course of your thoughts is almost true and very unsafe.
- Come on, I need to hurt ... But nerds on segways will not be offended that you are talking about all sorts of nastiness about them?
- They check my actions, and you can talk as much as you like, it doesnβt change anything. What did you think: there is no crime on Mars?
- Yes, I was sure. How can you commit crimes if your chip immediately knocks where to?
- Of course, the electronic court automatically issues a fine and also, it can start a case with an automatic machine, check all the conditions and send to jail. And if you show off much, sew up a minichip that will not just knock, but immediately cut down the nervous system as soon as you try to break the law. I just wanted to run across the road in the wrong place, and my legs fell asleep ... halfway through.
- Well, that's right, I'm talking about that.
- I will tell you a secret: all this to press people like you, honest fraers. Thug with the left chip spit on it. Yes, corporations, of course, could crush crime if they wanted to. But they fuck it is not necessary.
- Yes, why not?
- I gave you one reason. Can you still think about something at your leisure. Imagine that communism has come, all scumbags were sewn up on a mini-chip and they are working for the good of society. Everywhere is cleanliness, beauty, there are no gamma or delta zones, if you are sick - get on your health, lose your job - live on welfare. Here is who then will forever gorbitsya until the loss of pulse. Everyone will relax and horseradish put on eggheads with their segues. But when there is a prospect to become homeless in the delta zone, where there is nothing to breathe, or to go on an exciting tour of the concentration camps in the Eastern Bloc, here you run. That is what some in Moscow can not sit? Why are they happy to break their ass for the sake of bosses from Telecom, who donβt even consider them as people?
βYou are clearly going to force you,β Max said indignantly, waving his hand. - Imagine some conspiracy theories, it is clear that under them you can fit any facts.
βOkay, I imagine conspiracy theories.β And you, apparently, imagine that you have got to the country of elves. You yourself will live, you will see, in a year we will see which of us is right.
- In a year, I myself will become the boss in Telecom, and then we'll see.
- Come on, of course, I am against something, - Ruslan sighed. βDon't forget, if anything, who picked you up from the spaceport.β Only now dreams are all this ...
- Well, dreams, not dreams, but if you spend your whole life in a soft place, then nothing will come of it.
- You seriously decided to join the party of these Martians?
- What is special? What makes me worse than them?
βThis is not a matter of worse or better.β This is such an elite club for their own. Outsiders are not allowed there for any merit.
- It is clear that the leadership of any transnational corporation is to some extent a closed club. You would see what family clans occupied any more or less bread places in Moscow. No elitism, one primitive wild Asiatic: they do not care about anything at all, except for the animal desire to grab more and faster. In any case, the first step on Mars is still better than to rivet primitive sites in Moscow. Maybe even earn money.
βYouβll earn more money in Moscow on primitive websites.β Only now you came here obviously not to become a petty boss by the age of forty and save up for a flat in the beta zone. You just do not tense up again, but do you think the first one with such burning eyes rode here? Here such dreamers are a wagon and a small truck, and the Martians have learned very well how to squeeze all the juices out of them.
- I already know that I have to work and not all types come to success, someone breaks off, but what to do. Do you really think I don't understand anything?
- Yes, you're a smart guy, I did not want to say anything, but you do not know the system. And I saw how it works.
- And how does it work?
- Itβs very simple: at first they will offer you to work as a simple admin, or a coder, then they will slightly increase the salary, then maybe they will be the boss to feed the new arrivals. But they will not give you anything really cool, or they will, but they will take all the rights for themselves. And all the time it will seem that just about, you are almost in the tus, it is worth a bit of pressure, but this is an illusion, a deception, the glass ceiling is shorter.
- I am aware that the majority rests on the glass ceiling. The whole difficulty is to be among the lucky few who have made it.
- There are no lucky you understand. The policy is - not to take strangers.
- I do not see the logic in such a policy. If you do not let anyone in general, then all, as you say, horseradish put. Why strain if the result is known? If you donβt play videos with happy millionaires, then no one will buy lottery tickets, right?
- Here you will draw any videos. No Neyrotek by the hand does not catch.
- Do you want to say the Martians fool everyone?
- Yes, not really, they are not stupidly cheating, they are just very cleverly cheating. Okay, I'll try to explain ... So you got yourself in Telecom and the service of the staff got you a personal matter. The file is there, where all the data that it was possible to collect, including school analyzes, and the entire history of requests and visits from the chip, will be carried. And according to this data and according to your current activity, the program will follow, when what to tell you, when to increase, when to increase, so that you do not fall into the sunset. In short, they will constantly keep a carrot in front of their nose.
- You are right all smear black paint. Well use neural networks to analyze personal data. Well, yes, there is little pleasant of course, but I donβt see any tragedy either.
- The tragedy is that if you are not a Martian, then you will share your problems only with this neural network. It's completely, like ... a formal procedure, living managers for you in half a century and the words will not say. For them, you are an empty place.
- As if Moscow is not an empty place for some INCIS. It is clear that first you will have to pay attention to yourself, so that the Martians will begin to spend time discussing my career prospects.
- Well, you do not understand in kind. This is in Moscow or at worst in some Europe, you can take part in a race with a crowd like you. And even if nine out of ten prizes are already taken by someone's bros or mistresses, you really can claim to be tenth. But there is absolutely nothing to catch on Mars, even if you are a genius a thousand times. Martians have long figured out all the people and allocated a personal digital stall to everyone ... Well, fuck, in short. Everyone makes their own choice.
- I would even say: everyone sees what he wants to see.
βStrange security service of some kind of Telecom,β Max thought wearily. - What did he want to achieve, so that I flew back to Moscow and lived there happily? Well, yes, weβll rather repair the roads at home and stop taking bribes, itβs wiser to believe in it than in good intentions of this type. Rather, he is having fun. Or is it really connected with some kind of mafia and sees only the dark side of the city of Tula β. But still, the doubts of Max began to gnaw at Max's soul: βAnd the truth is, why should Telecom look for specialists in provincial, compared to Thule, Moscow? But on the other hand, was it not for the sake of a bad joke that they dragged me so far, paying for the expenses of the trip? In any case, money for a return ticket while there. But why then did I spread this talk? Do not share with anyone else? There is some rational grain in his chatter.Here's how to understand in the world of virtual reality: do I build a career with neural networks, or do I communicate with live Martians? In terms of earnings? But money, however, can be done in Moscow, especially if you are an unprincipled bastard with connections. And here any result is to some extent virtual. A sufficiently powerful neural network easily guesses all my dreams and slips into a cozy world the appearance that they are being realized. Maybe in my heart I am clearly aware of all the unrealizableness of my hopes and, secretly from myself, I never intended to put them into practice. And here there is a great opportunity to see how the ideal world looks. Just look with one eye, itβs not forbidden by anyone, itβs not a vice, not a defeat, so harmless tactical retreat. And there, in the near future, I will definitely start to do everything for real:with one effort of will, I will take and cut the network cable and begin. In the meantime, you can still slit a little bit, a little bit more ... M-yes, that's how it will be: a little more, a little more will stretch over a couple of decades until it is finally late, until I turn into a limp amoeba floating in nutrient solution. - with horror, anticipated Max. - No, it is necessary to tie with these doubts. You have to be like Ruslan, or like a friend Denis, for example. Here Dan clearly knows what he wants and does not soar. And on all sorts of chips and neural networks to him from a high bell tower ... But, on the other hand, is this a real dream? These are just instincts and a harsh vital need. βuntil I turn into a limp amoeba floating in a nutrient solution. - with horror, anticipated Max. - No, it is necessary to tie with these doubts. You have to be like Ruslan, or like a friend Denis, for example. Here Dan clearly knows what he wants and does not soar. And on all sorts of chips and neural networks to him from a high bell tower ... But, on the other hand, is this a real dream? These are just instincts and a harsh vital need. βuntil I turn into a limp amoeba floating in a nutrient solution. - with horror, anticipated Max. - No, it is necessary to tie with these doubts. You have to be like Ruslan, or like a friend Denis, for example. Here Dan clearly knows what he wants and does not soar. And on all sorts of chips and neural networks to him from a high bell tower ... But, on the other hand, is this a real dream? These are just instincts and a harsh vital need. β
βAlmost arrived,β Ruslan said, slowing down by an artificial tunnel going sharply up the hill, βnow we will pass the gateway and rush into the city.β Do not forget to activate the pass.
- And what was this zone?
- Epsilon.
- Epsilon ?! And we are here so calmly dissect, it's almost open space.
- I know, the oxygen content is not normalized, high levels of radiation? Do you have children?
- No ...
- Then bad.
- What is wrong? - Max got worried.
- Yes, just kidding, nothing will wither away. In this car, as in a tank: a closed atmosphere and radiation protection, and more light suits in the trunk.
βYes, the spacesuits in the trunk in case of a serious accident will surely save our lives,β Max said, but Ruslan paid no attention to his irony.
Without delay, they passed the old gateway and drove to the motorway acceleration lane already in Tula. Ruslan relaxed back in his chair and gave control to the computer. In any case, on the Tule motorways, where the maximum speed was limited to a fantastic two hundred miles per hour, computer decisions took precedence over any driver actions. Only the road computer was able to safely drive at such speeds in a dense stream. The Martian transport management system deserved the most generous praise, it was enough to choose a destination and the system itself selected the best route in time, taking into account the forecast of the route load on the intentions of other users. If it were not for her, then Tula would undoubtedly suffocate in traffic jams, like many earthly megalopolises.
Max admired the work of the harmonious mechanism of the road system from a bird's eye view on an interactive map of the city. Sparkling streams of cars flowing through traffic intersections reminded the circulatory system of a living organism. Heavy cargo and passenger platforms obediently trudging in the right rows, high-speed cars rushed to the left. If someone rebuilt, the rest of the movement, obediently slowing down, missed him, almost teasing bumpers against each other. No one climbed forward with dangerous overtaking, did not cut, all maneuvers were performed in advance with perfect speed and accuracy. Multi-level interchanges were built everywhere: no traffic lights were required. With a grin, Max thought that at the sight of such a spectacle, any Moscow traffic cop would have let a tear out of emotion. Although, no, rather from disappointment:wherever a sober, error-free computer always manages a corrupt traffic police will obviously remain in the business.
"And the speed could have been less, and the distance between the machines, more than ten or fifteen meters," thought Max, "it remains to be hoped that if any cargo platform fails to control, the system will have time to react, otherwise it will turn out terrible porridge" .
The city had something to admire and besides the freeways. Low gravity and huge underground voids allowed incredible delights in architecture. Tula, who was buried in caves and tunnels and at the same time was all directed upwards. It consisted of some skyscrapers, spiers, towers and air structures with thin supports, connected by a web of transitions and transport routes. Next to each building was a link to a page on the network, if you wish, you could learn a lot about the metropolis. Here is a 200-meter glass ball, as if hanging in the air - this is an expensive club. Inside him are richly dressed people and half-dressed, corrupt young ladies having fun in an augmented reality setting. But a few blocks away, a strict gloomy structure without glass and neon - a hospital and a shelter for the poor,and located in the life-friendly zone "beta". It turns out that civilized Martians are quite ready to share crumbs from the master's table, although it seems that no state will ever captivity any more.
Some buildings, like columns, rested against the ceiling of the caves, around them usually circling a swarm of drones arriving and hurrying away. In such buildings housed fire, environmental and other urban services. Not being too lazy to look at their page, Max discovered that these columns actually perform the function of supporting structures, protecting the natural arches of the dungeons from collapse. The measure is rather preventive, there is no particular tectonic activity on Mars: the bowels of the red planet are dead for a long time and do not bother people. But, but it is full of other problems, and with ecology: spores of ancient bacteria are constantly found in stones, and with radiation: the natural background, even in depth due to the high concentration of radioactive isotopes, is several times higher than on Earth.Therefore, the main laboratories of powerful corporations were usually located in separate caves, closed from the main city by several levels of protection.
There were also quite exotic pieces of local architecture: where deep caverns gaped in the caverns floor, the towers hung from the ceiling like gigantic stalactites, breaking off into emptiness. From the failures came the rumble of oxygen stations - the lungs of an urban organism. And the role of the conductor of a gigantic orchestra was performed by electronic devices. They easily took care of imperfect human beings, replacing them almost everywhere. Residents of Tula walked relaxed through the fragile high-altitude galleries, swept through the maglevas, inhaled the clean filtered air, and did not worry that they were separated from the instantaneous or painful death by nanoseconds and nanometers of errors that accidentally crept into the thinnest crystals of computer devices.
Of course, for the design of the urban landscape could choose any screen saver. The most popular was the screensaver of the elven city, where the spiers turned into giant trees, waterfalls ran from the walls, and an exotic sky with several suns stretched overhead. Max liked the underground warlock city screensaver more. She was much closer to the real textures of the situation, and, accordingly, devoured less chip resources. Neon advertisements, turned into priestly lights, cast freakish glares on black-and-red rock walls, snatching out of the darkness the translucent strands of precious minerals. And the drones, transformed into elementals and spirits circled in a dance under the arches of caves. The beauty of virtual creations and the beauty of natural dungeons were so closely and organically intertwined that the heart was already sinking. Let her be a stranger and cold, this beauty,Let her evil spirits of a dead planet melted millions of years ago, but her cold attracted her, and her soul was happily forgotten by sweet poisonous sleep. And the triumphant ghosts, laughing wickedly, performed their incomprehensible dance and waited for a new sacrifice. Max looked and looked at Tula, who he so long and passionately wanted to see again, when suddenly, someone invisible and terrible broke the string stretched to the sound and whispered: "Well, hello, Max, I was also waiting for you ..." .someone invisible and terrible broke the string stretched to the sound and whispered: "Well, hello, Max, I also waited for you ...".someone invisible and terrible broke the string stretched to the sound and whispered: "Well, hello, Max, I also waited for you ...".
- Has you fallen asleep? - Ruslan poked his counterpart in the shoulder.
- So ... thought.
- The central office, almost arrived.
Previously, for some reason, Max had little interest in what the headquarters of the main Russian company was. Here is the image of the Neyrotek office - the famous βcrystal spireβ; it has repeatedly stumbled across the net. Yes, and no wonder: the brand, as they say, is untwisted. This spire was located in the crater, covered with the largest and oldest dome Thule, reaching a height of five hundred meters. But most of all, he was famous for the completely transparent and mirror elements alternating in his supporting structures. Through the transparent areas, one could observe the internal life of the corporation as cooks in some restaurants, and the mirror refracts the light in the most bizarre way. This, apparently, symbolized: the complete openness of the company, the cleanliness of the thoughts of its employees and the shining peaks of scientific and technological progress. Generally,Everything was clear with the Neurotec spike, dear, radiant and appealing to the eyes. Of course, Telecom would not be Telecom if it had not tried to measure Neyrotek with the size of towers. And where there was not enough height and sparkle, Telecom was getting points with scale and scope. The enormous reinforced concrete structure with the base went into a deep failure and by the upper floors rested against the arch of the cave. A worthy example of Gothic architecture was surrounded by a ring of smaller towers, which stretched to each other from the bottom and the ceiling of the dungeon, coolly resembling a toothy maw. By analogy, the central building of Telekom symbolized the complete closeness of the company, especially for any foreign sales freaks who call themselves the βfourth estateβ, well, with thoughts so everything is clearand delays in the development of scientific and technological progress were easily compensated by the βbig clubβ inherited from the late Russian Empire.
Ruslan readily assumed the role of guide. Probably, at the sight of a dear to the heart architectural tool of intimidation of competitors, some patriotic feelings awakened in it.
- Have you seen how we got settled? Narrow-eyed already envied everything.
βNeyrotek what? Surely, soon they will die of envy. " - Max's mental skepticism almost didnβt appear on his face.
- This is the underground part of the central pylon of the power dome. You must have seen them from the terminal. The power dome was never brought to mind, but the capital facilities were useful to us. Here you can even sit out a nuclear war, not like in a glass nesting box. Am I right?
Ruslan turned to the interlocutor for confirmation of his words and Max had to urgently confirm:
- My house is my fortress.
- Exactly. There can be no better protection than inside the support. Even if the cave collapses completely, the structure will survive. Soon you will see for yourself how good it is here ...
"Yes, - Maxim cringed, - now you cannot get to anywhere." As soon as he thought this, the gigantic mouth swallowed a small four-wheeled shell.
October 18, 2139 Latest news.
Today, at 11 o'clock local time, INKIS Corporation applied for full membership in the Consultative Council of Martian settlements. The application was supported by voting members of the Council: Telecom-ru corporations, Uranium One, Mariner heavy industries and others. Thus, the application was supported by 153 full votes with a mandatory minimum of 100 votes. This issue is on the agenda of the regular session of the Council, which opens on November 1. In the event of a positive vote on their application, INCIS will receive one full vote and the opportunity to submit draft resolutions through the office of the Council. At the moment, a representative of the INCIS Corporation in the Council has limited observer rights. Also INCIS announced an additional IPO of its shares with an estimated value of about 85 million creeps.
The news was complemented by a video where workers in spacesuits were dismantled from the Orion, Ural, Storm and Viking pedestals, which faithfully served for many years and then guarded their last home port. Allegedly, this was done only in order to send the old ships to the Mars exploration museum, where it would be easier to ensure proper storage conditions. βYeah, that's what we believed,β thought Max, irritably. Judging by how hasty and barbaric work was done, new exhibits will arrive to the museumβs vaults in a fairly shabby form, if they are not previously disposed of under another plausible pretext. Most of all went to the "Viking". Awkward workers shattered the entire thermal protection when the ship was loaded onto a ramp. The whole process: piles of fragments scattered across the sand, and hideous bald spots were captured in a series of expressive photographs.In short, INKIS was quick to listen to the wishes of the Consultative Council.
Max mentally wished the corporation bosses to earn a couple of purulent boils from overly diligently licking Martian asses and went on to watch the next news.
Unrest continues on Titan. After the brutal suppression of demonstrators, accompanied by numerous arrests of violators, the situation is still far from being resolved. Supporters of the so-called Quadius organization advocate the creation of an independent state on Titan, where radical reforms of copyright laws will be carried out and state support for software development projects with a free license will be provided. They accuse the protectorate of political repression and secret killings of dissent, and also threaten to respond to terror with terror. So far, the henchmen of the βorganizationβ βquadam β fail to realize their threats, their only achievement is petty hooliganism and hacker attacks. Despite this, the Titan protectorate police forces have already introduced heightened transport security,industrial enterprises, life-support stations and in medical institutions. Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.life support stations and in medical institutions. Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.life support stations and in medical institutions. Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.Neurotech Corporation was among the first to declare the inadmissibility of the use of violence, in fact, it condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made the appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.condemned the actions of the local protectorate and made appropriate proposals to the Consultative Council. In the near future, at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be resolved. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be decided. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.at an extraordinary session, the question of withdrawing the current protectorate of Titan will be decided. Neurotechβs position has not yet been understood either by competitors or even by its closest allies. Sumitomo, a conglomerate that invests heavily in its production assets on Titan, said it strongly disagreed with the proposal made to the Consultative Council and is trying to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.submitted to the Consultative Council and tries to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.submitted to the Consultative Council and tries to block its discussion. Sumitomo representatives offer to investigate the unrest by their own security forces and openly declare that they know the numbers of neurochips of all quads.
βWow, what's going on in the solar system. - Max thought, lazily scrolling through the news site. - Some crazy decided to start on this frozen satellite, really crazy, apparently the latest brains froze ... The independent state on an isolated satellite, completely dependent on external supplies, thought up to me too, but crush them in two accounts. There is no escape from a submarine when there is liquid methane around the lake. - Max quite logically considered the plans and demands of the demonstrators absurd, but refusing to apply the same logic to his own dreams of transforming Mars. - And Neyrotek suddenly became a champion of democracy and human rights. Not otherwise, I decided to chop off the production assets of a recent ally. "
Max, for the sake of interest, looked at the logo of the mysterious "organization" left on the hacked sites: a blue diamond, the right half of which was painted over, and on the left half of the all-seeing eye flaunted. Then he went on to view the next news.
Telecom has announced an increase in the access speed and size of file storage for all users of its network, due to the launch of a new supercomputer cluster on superconductors to optimize data exchange. The company thus promises to completely eliminate the known problems of a wireless connection. Telecom, in response to such customer complaints, has always referred to the lack of a private resource allocated to it, and submitted requests to the Commission of the Advisory Council on the Electromagnetic Spectrum. In fairness, it is worth noting that the frequency resource allocated to Telecom is only slightly inferior to the resources allocated to the two other largest providers, Neurotech and MDT. And in terms of the ratio of the allocated frequency band to the average number of users, Teleom-ru is far ahead of its competitors,which indicates a poor optimization of the existing resource. The new supercomputer is designed to eliminate this long-standing problem. Also, Telecom announced about the imminent launch of a new data center and several repeaters for fast communication. The company expresses confidence that the quality of its services will not yield to the βbig twoβ now. Now a full-fledged βbig threeβ has emerged on the network services market, Telecom claims. Company representative Laura May kindly agreed to answer our questions.Now a full-fledged βbig threeβ has emerged on the network services market, Telecom claims. Company representative Laura May kindly agreed to answer our questions.Now a full-fledged βbig threeβ has emerged on the network services market, Telecom claims. Company representative Laura May kindly agreed to answer our questions.
Tall blonde, with a type of glamorous diva since the golden age of Hollywood, she dazzled her smile, showing readiness to answer any questions. She had curly hair up to her shoulders, a big chest and large, not quite perfect facial features. But she looked at the world with a slight grin and even a challenge, and a hoarse voice added her some kind of animal magnetism. Her skirt was a little shorter, and lipstick a little brighter than her status demanded, but she didnβt worry about it at all and every intonation and gesture seemed to provoke the audience to doubt its moral stability, without having ever crossed a fine line of formal propriety. And quite official victorious reports of Telecom in its performance sounded very promising.
βYeah, when they promise you unearthly connection speed with such a voice, anyone will run faster to draw up a contract,β thought Max. - Although, who knows what it really is, what language it speaks and does it even exist? Maybe female users see some kind of brutal macho β?
Laura, meanwhile, bravely repelled attacks against her native syndicate.
- ... We love to stick labels that our services are cheaper, but less quality and reliable, and allegedly we use outdated network sharing technologies. Although the full immersion and all the main types of services we have implemented for a long time, some problems arose only because of the general network congestion and only in the wireless connection. But now, after launching a new supercomputer, Telecom will provide quality services at the same price, markedly lower than that of competitors.
- And how would you comment on the dumping by Neurotech and MDT on the part of Telecom? Is it true that Telecom uses revenues from its non-core assets to keep a low price for network services?
- You understand that low price does not always mean dumping ...
βWhat a great fellow our Telecom,β Max thought irritably, closed the site window and plopped down on the sofa. - So cares about customers, and about employees too. Medical insurance, relaxation rooms, career management - everything except normal work. Well, let me, I would not be allowed to go to the superconducting core. I am ready to learn, and even with the development of peripheral devices would definitely cope. My place in the development, but not the service of operation. No wonder that in the Moscow branch I was a systems architect, and now who am I? In the short term, the optimizer of the tenth category in the channel separation optimization sector, which in turn is part of the network operations service, is a great start to a brilliant career. A little reassures only, then that all categories for would-be programmers already fifteen.The main thing what a dizzying career growth still awaits ahead - as many as nine categories! Although, yes, the consolation is very weak. Damn, how much can be about the same "!
Max cursed and in the same family underwear proceeded to the kitchen. It is foolish, of course, to scroll the same situation a hundred times in my head, especially when nothing can be changed, but Max couldnβt stop: yesterdayβs conversation with the head of the sector in which he was to work, knocked the ground out of him feet. Therefore, he led endless polemics with himself, shuffling and inventing new compelling arguments and, time after time, forcing the mental adversary to capitulate. Unfortunately, imaginary victories had no effect on the real situation. On two main questions: "who is to blame?" And "what to do?", Max did not find the answer. More precisely, he came up with an answer to the first question: his new friend Ruslan was to blame for everything, he cried, the cattle, he could have sewn up his mouth, but the next steps to correct the situation were extremely vague.
Max, of course, understood that the new post was an unpleasant surprise only for him. It is unlikely that everything was decided exactly yesterday. But he felt his share of the blame in what had happened. He was still in Moscow could not clearly agree where to take it on Mars. The phrase that the position will best fit his competence, the arbitrariness of service personnel, strictly speaking, did not limit. It turns out that there is nothing to complain about. Only that I wanted to go to Mars so much that I was ready for any conditions.
And yesterday, as they say, nothing foretold such a terrible outcome. Ruslan landed a fellow traveler in a parking lot near the central office, promised to organize a tour around the hot spots of the city of Tula, if he suddenly got tired of sitting in virtual reality, and drove off somewhere further, hiding in the depths of a huge building. Max lowered a bit, downloaded the guidebook and went to meet fate, following the friendly rabbit in a vest. It was, like, such a telecom chip, a replacement for a standard one that lights up in front of the nose, signs.
Max is not particularly in a hurry. I went first to the service staff, passed the DNA test, underwent other checks and received the coveted service account, one of the main gingerbread, which was lured by the employees of the provider company. Any, most ordinary of admins, but with service access, by default, is a hundred times better than a VIP user who paid big money for his tariff. The world has changed a lot since the advent and rise of the Internet. Now it is not known what is better: happiness and luck in the real world or in the virtual, because they intertwined so closely that it is almost impossible to separate them, just as it is to determine which of them is more real. Yes, most people were not even interested in: what is it, this unknown real world from the legends of the pre-computer era,already ill-imagining life without pop-up tips and universal translators - a life where you need to learn foreign languages ββand ask passers-by for the way to the library. Many didnβt want to learn to type. Why, if any text can be slandered, and in the light of the latest advances in neurotechnology, and read directly, through the thought team.
With Maxβs service account, there was a slight hitch, it was necessary to reinstall the old operating system on his chip, but the problem was resolved relatively quickly. The manager was dismayed, looking at his medical card, in which the chip model was clearly outdated, according to Martian standards, but nevertheless gave a direction to reinstall the system in a corporate medical center. Then there was the social service, where Max was politely informed that, of course, Telecom provides service housing to any employee, but the alien origin, or any other circumstances, does not affect the fact of provision: this is the company's policy. In general, Max abandoned the free tiny room in the industrial zone "gamma" and decided to settle in a rented hut in a more decent area. So, grandly noble, he visited several more divisions,some in the flesh, and some with a virtual ghost, filling out various forms along the way, or receiving instructions. Thanks to the successful implementation of such light quests, Max was already quite relaxed, to the final point of his journey - the office of the head, he came up in a complacent-confident mood. The office turned out to be equipped with a serious bioprotection: instead of a polite greeting in the gateway, a cold shower of disinfectants was waiting.instead of a polite greeting in the gateway, a cold shower of disinfectants was waiting.instead of a polite greeting in the gateway, a cold shower of disinfectants was waiting.
The owner of the office, Albert Bonford, was a real Martian in the full sense of the word. Obviously, his foot never set foot on the sinful Earth: the usual force of gravity would undoubtedly break this fragile creature like a reed. Tall and pale with bleached hair, he wore a gray checkered suit with a light tie. The martian's eyes were large, dark with an almost indistinguishable iris, either by nature or by contact lenses. He was reclining in a deep chair with a motor-wheels and a lot of some connectors, folding tables and even a long arm with a manipulator sticking out of the backrest. The promised segways apparently went out of fashion. The Martian's obvious predilection for possessing the latest achievements of cybernetics led to the formation of a whole bevy of flying robots around his person.They were in constant motion and winked meaningfully at the LED lights. They brewed tea, coffee to visitors, shook dust from the host, well, and just enlivened the atmosphere in the room.
βGreetings, Maxim,β the Martian printed in the unfolded messenger, without turning his head to the person who entered and without changing the facial expression. βI'll be free in just a couple of minutes.β Come in, sit down. β A similar chair came up to Max, but without unnecessary bells and whistles and manipulators. βGood,β Max typed in response and for some reason duplicated his meaningless remark aloud, apparently from excitement. He really, in those first minutes after seeing a live Martian, was greatly alarmed. No, Max was not a xenophobe and thought he was absolutely indifferent to the appearance of other people. But, as it turned out, it concerned only people, even if they were smelly punks or goths, but communicating with anthropomorphic creatures that are not very similar to you is a different matter. βHere, what a real neuman you are,β Max thought then, hardly swallowing a dry lump in his throat.βTomorrow I'll sign up for the gym and will be exhausted there until I lose my pulse,β he promised himself horrified, watching the bird's movements of the Martian's head, planted on a long, thin neck. Max at that moment downright physically felt the calcium being washed out of his bones, and they become brittle, like dry twigs. And Max did not really want to work under the authority of such a creature. He didnβt immediately like something with the first, with the first, so to speak, printed letter.And Max did not really want to work under the authority of such a creature. He didnβt immediately like something with the first, with the first, so to speak, printed letter.And Max did not really want to work under the authority of such a creature. He didnβt immediately like something with the first, with the first, so to speak, printed letter.
In addition to the bevy of crafty robots and Albert, there was still a gray mirror-polished table, chairs and two aquariums built into the opposite walls. In one aquarium, they soothingly opened their mouths and waved fins to some large bright fish and looked at the opposite wall in bewilderment, where thick double glass, in a bath of liquid methane, trembled web-like colonies of polyps from Titan. After a couple of minutes, Albert woke up, and his eyes found an iris, having overtaken even more horror at Max.
- So, Maxim, I am glad to welcome you as a new employee of sector 038-113, - the Martian's lifeless politeness did not at all dispose to him. - I was also informed that there is a small problem with your neurochip.
βOh, no problem, Albert,β Max answered quickly. - I will reinstall the operating system within the next week.
- The problem is not in the axis, but in the chip itself. For each position in my sector there are certain formal requirements, including the characteristics of the chip. Unfortunately, you can only qualify for the post of optimizer programmer of the tenth category.
- Claim? - Max confusedly asked.
- You will be finally enrolled in the state after you pass the probationary period and pass the qualifying exam.
- But I was counting on the position of developer ... Rather, even a system architect ... So we sort of agreed in Moscow.
- System architect? - Martian barely restrained mocking smile. - You have not studied the service manual? My sector is not engaged in project work as such. Your work will be associated with databases and training of neural networks.
Max began frantically flipping through the documents.
- Sector channel separation optimization?
Max fidgeted in his chair, starting to get nervous. "And, well, I'm a fool, I did not even figure out what was hidden behind the faceless number of the sector to which I was sent."
βThere must be some kind of mistake here ...
β The personnel service is not mistaken in such things.
- But in Moscow ...
- The final decision is always taken by the central office. Do not worry, this work is fully consistent with your qualifications. You have also been given three months of probation for retraining, then an exam. I think, given the excellent recommendations, you can handle it faster. The problem with the chip is also quite solvable.
- The problem with the chip now worries me the least.
βThat's fine,β apparently irony, like other stupid emotions, was alien to the Martian. - You leave for work the day after tomorrow, all instructions for working mail. If you have questions you can contact the service staff. And now I'm sorry, I have a lot to do.
The Martian turned off again, leaving Max completely at a loss. He sat for a little more time in front of the stationary body of his superiors, tried to say something like: βI apologize, but ...β, but he did not achieve any reaction. And, before gnashing his teeth, he went out.
βYes, all Martians are liars. And what could be done in such a situation? - Once again, Max wondered, sitting in a tiny kitchen and sipping synthetic tea to taste. - Specifically, in that, of course, nothing, just initially it was necessary not to relax. More substantively speaking all the conditions back in Moscow, and not sit nodding like a Chinese dummy for the joy of being sent to Mars. But on the other hand, yes, I would have been turned in the same place. Well, then I went to the service staff and what? The manager sent me just as politely, said he was not authorized to resolve such issues, but I can always leave a request to the senior management and it will contact me without fail. Well, yes, they will call me soon, they will say that an annoying misunderstanding has occurred and will be appointed a system architect for some new supercomputer. Generally,The obvious logic suggests that in such a situation I can only slam the door and dump it from Telecom. And this means that, most likely, you will have to forget about Mars forever. It is unlikely, given the local draconian order, I will find another job here. β But the mere thought of abandoning the possibility of living on Mars caused such terrible disappointment to Max that he drove her away with a filthy broom. βSo there is no choice, you have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to forget about Mars. It is unlikely, given the local draconian order, I will find another job here. β But the mere thought of abandoning the possibility of living on Mars caused such terrible disappointment to Max that he drove her away with a filthy broom. βSo there is no choice, you have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to forget about Mars. It is unlikely, given the local draconian order, I will find another job here. β But the mere thought of abandoning the possibility of living on Mars caused such terrible disappointment to Max that he drove her away with a filthy broom. βSo there is no choice, you have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.will have to accept the fact that there is. In the end, someone less scrupulous would gladly jump at any place in Telecom. It's not so bad, break through. " Max once again blew out a sigh and went to disassemble things that completely ate up the already small space of the apartment.
From the household work he was distracted by the message from Masha. βHello! Still, it's a pity you left. More precisely, I am very glad that you could get a job in Tula, but it is a pity that you left without me. Please tell me how are you doing at work, I hope everything is in order? How are bosses? Real Martians, look like your grandmother told you: pale, skinny, with thin hair and similar to huge underground spiders? Just kidding, your famous grandmother loves to lie. But you please still eat calcium and go to the gym, but I'm afraid, after arriving in half a year to find something from my grandmother's stories.
You promised to immediately find out in Telekom about a temporary visa for me. I would have come even for a couple of weeks, I know that the tickets are expensive, but what to do: I also want to look at this wonderful city of Thule. I have already collected the documents, there are no problems, only an invitation remains. Can it still be better to come for any tourist package, despite the fact that they are very expensive? Or maybe you no longer want me to come. I found some martian girl, itβs not for nothing that you were so drawn to this planet. Just kidding, of course. β
βOh, I was so upset by this freak with his aquariums and chairs that I even forgot about the invitation to Masha,β thought Max sadly.
βAt home, everything is fine, I saw your mother. At the weekend I will go to the country to help my parents. Also, when I cleaned accidentally, I touched one of your ships, the one that is the healthiest, I donβt remember what it was called, but I didnβt break anything, I checked. And in general, it is high time to take these toys somewhere to the garage, they only occupy a place. β
βMyβ Viking β, but not this! She didn't break anything, Max thought skeptically. - So I believed, yes, in principle, you will not notice if you break something in the model. He asked not to touch, is it really that difficult? β
βI would like to know how you are going to have fun in your free time?β There should be so many cool places on Mars, please send me more records, otherwise your desert landscapes are somehow not impressive.
I wait, I hope, when you take me to Mars. And, honestly, the messages are, of course, cool, but a quick connection is still better. Maybe the same forked? You now earn a lot of money in Telecom.
And maybe all the same to Paris somewhere we fall down, eh? To dream of the city of Tula, you have to be like you. I would, Max, something simpler: Montmartre there, the Eiffel Tower and warm quiet evenings in a small restaurant. I honestly do not really understand how we will live on this Mars. In the same place, probably, it is impossible to take a walk in the park under the handle, there are no parks there either. And you will not admire the stars, and the full moon, no romance. In general ... in vain, I started it again, everything has already been decided.
I do not know what else to tell, nothing much happens at home, so boredom and routine. Oh, yes, if you did not appreciate my efforts with the letter, then maybe you will appreciate my new underwear in the second file. All right, bye bye. Think fast, please. β
βShe bought the underwear, I hope only for me,β Max was on the alert. - And, really, what the fuck I rode away, leaving everything. So our relationship will not last long. And the parks, the stars and the lunar path on the mirror smooth surface of the water are available here, only they are slightly virtual. β
Yes, unfamiliar things rarely appear as we imagine them. Max knew that there is no justice in the world and rich, powerful corporations are doing arbitrariness, but he sincerely did not expect to become a victim of arbitrariness.
Max knew that with the Martian eco-service the jokes are bad, but he could not even imagine such ecological totalitarianism. In most of the clothes brought with him, he could flaunt only at home in front of the mirror, she did not meet local dust generation requirements, and the gateway of her own house did not allow her to go outside. And the detectors installed in the gateway would not have allowed to bring illicit drugs, weapons, animals, and automatically reported to the police about such violations. Moreover, the βbig brotherβ also reported to the insurance service if a person came home in a state of narcotic or alcohol intoxication, or was sick. Of course, there were no penalties for this, but all these cases were carefully entered into the personal history and the price of insurance was slowly increasing. The Martian "smart home" turned out to be worse than the most grumpy wife.
Max knew that life in Tula was expensive. Cheap food grown in a test tube tasted like the nutritious compost it was growing on, and real food was expensive. And housing, and utilities, and transportation and life-giving oxygen - all very expensive. But Max believed that the increased costs more than offset the salary in Telecom. But it turned out that the salary was less than promised, but life is more expensive. Most of the money immediately went to insurance, tariffs, payment of a tiny twenty-meter apartment, and even it was not a question of buying a car or seriously putting something off.
Max knew that virtual reality is akin to a new religion, but he did not imagine how much all the thoughts and aspirations of the Martian inhabitants move around the virtual axis. And in Max's tiny apartment, a considerable area was occupied by this altar of a new all-absorbing cult - biovanna for complete immersion. Biovanna on Mars is the center of the universe, the concentration of the meaning of life, the gates to other worlds, where orcs defeat elves, empires collapse and revive, love, hate, overcome and lose everything. There is now real life, and outside it is a faded surrogate. Oh, the source of unearthly pleasures, touching your cool metal side, like a throat in the desert, countless salespeople, builders, miners, guards, women and children, exhausted in schools and workplaces.They raise a look filled with longing where the sky should be and pray to the Martian deities for the imminent end of the shift. For someone, Biovanna is an expensive, complex complex with thermoregulation, hydromassage, droppers and medical equipment, allowing to spend weeks and months in it. Some basically do this: they spend their entire conscious life swimming in saline, because most intellectual professions have long been allowed to work remotely. Yes, what can I say, you can get married and, in principle, even have children practically without getting out. Two spouses, weeping in flasks opposite each other - an ideal Martian family. For someone who is not so familiar with virtual values, Biovanna is really just a bath filled with warm fluid with an oxygen mask and a few simple sensors. But,she was absolutely everyone, without her life on Mars is not. At Max, in view of the outdated neurochip, this equipment was mostly idle. Therefore, he often had a lot of free time, which he could spend on something useful, but usually did not spend.
It's been almost two months since Max arrived in Tula. He reinstalled the operating system on a chip, received a full-fledged service account and an orange admission to the Telecom's internal networks. Gradually, his life entered a band of gray, monotonous everyday life. Alarm clock. Kitchen. The outside. Job. Although a quarter of a century has not yet passed, the persistent feeling that the cycle repeats and will last forever did not leave.
He tried to regularly send letters to his mother, once spoke to her on a fast connection. Mom was sitting in the newly renovated kitchen. A robot cleaner, dressed in a cheerful turtle jacket, rumbled into her dark window under her feet, at home in a dark window, the first snowstorm of the year. The conversation began quietly and peacefully with mutual questions about life, then Max unobtrusively tried to find out what happened during his first trip to Mars in early childhood. For some time now, reflections on what had caused him to drag himself so far away have become very intrusive. Probably, before and there was really no time to think about it. But on Mars, paradoxically, and the time was found, and the desire to delve into their cockroaches. Max realized that he didnβt have any childhood memories before this trip, so there are some scraps, although he was ten years old.And he barely remembered the trip itself - also solid fragments. But after the already bright, distinct pictures, as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.But after the already bright, distinct pictures, as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.But after the already bright, distinct pictures, as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.as he sits on the floor in an embrace with models of rovers. As if before that, in his body there lived a certain amorphous, unremarkable boy, and then another child abruptly appeared, possessing a completely non-child perseverance in achieving a completely non-children's goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.and then another child abruptly arose, possessing a very not childish persistence in attaining a completely non-child goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.and then another child abruptly arose, possessing a very not childish persistence in attaining a completely non-child goal. And now, in long, boring evenings, Max tried to find that old boy, with his ordinary dinosaurs, transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.transformers and computer toys. He tried and could not, he disappeared like the smoke of a fire at dawn. Mom only shrugged her shoulders at Max's questions and replied that she found the underground cities boring and uninteresting, just like the whole trip. And in general, it would be better if Max went back home, found a job easier and started working with Masha on βproductionβ and raising his own children.
New job in Telecom Max absolutely did not like. There was no real programming in its current activity: so monotonous collection of the database and training of the neural network, which was engaged in optimizing the load and traffic on a particular site. In the first week at the new location, Max fully felt what it means to be a cog in the system and an appendage to his neurochip. Five thousand programmers in the optimization sector alone, tightly packed, like semiconductors in a crystal, in long halls filled with access terminals to the internal network. The neural network and the database with which he worked was just a small part of the supercomputer life cycle management system. How the rest of the system worked, Max did not know. Only limited functionality was available to him within his modest competence,Yes, and then while in the educational version. A set of various situations and options for responding to them was prescribed in the most detailed job descriptions, it was strictly forbidden to deviate from them. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.A set of various situations and options for responding to them was prescribed in the most detailed job descriptions, it was strictly forbidden to deviate from them. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.A set of various situations and options for responding to them was prescribed in the most detailed job descriptions, it was strictly forbidden to deviate from them. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.retreat from them is strictly prohibited. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.retreat from them is strictly prohibited. Actually studying the instructions and became the main task of Max for the next three months. All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.All the managers and almost all the leading experts in the optimization sector were all pure Martianians, without any terrestrial impurities, which led Max to sad thoughts about future career prospects. Max was preparing for the upcoming exam. He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.He easily memorized the instructions almost verbatim, he didnβt see anything complicated in them and was sure that any technician of average qualification would cope with such things. But still waiting for the exam with fear and nervousness, fearing to get some dirty trick from the employer.
Max also learned that all the inhabitants of Mars and the indigenous and those who came from other planets, except for adherence to any network provider, are divided into two large groups: βchemistsβ - who like to keep molecular processors in mind, and βelectronicsβ, respectively, fans semiconductor devices. The two groups waged a permanent holy war among themselves over which chips were better. M-chips were better integrated into a living organism, and semiconductor ones were more versatile and productive. Albert Bonford, the head of the optimization sector, was a typical βchemistβ who was fanatically obsessed with purity and panicked when any foreign molecule was detected in the surrounding air. And the βelectronicsβ were no less obsessed with electrostatic protection, in attacks of paranoia fearingthat some overly negative or positively charged individual will arrange a breakdown in their thin-film brains. Chemists surrounded themselves with flocks of detector robots, and electronics ionized the air around them, wore special electrically conductive clothing and antistatic protection bracelets. Both were afraid of physical contact with other living beings. Probably, individuals lived and prospered somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their own advantages and trust the built-in protection, but for some reason, Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.while the electronics ionized the air around them, they wore special electrically conductive clothing and antistatic protection bracelets. Both were afraid of physical contact with other living beings. Probably, individuals lived and prospered somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their own advantages and trust the built-in protection, but for some reason, Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.while the electronics ionized the air around them, they wore special electrically conductive clothing and antistatic protection bracelets. Both were afraid of physical contact with other living beings. Probably, individuals lived and prospered somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their own advantages and trust the built-in protection, but for some reason, Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.Someone lived and hello somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their advantages and trusting the built-in protection, but for some reason Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.Someone lived and hello somewhere, recognizing that both types of devices have their advantages and trusting the built-in protection, but for some reason Max mostly came across puffed-up stubborn people. Apparently the degree of cybernation did not affect the original depravity of human nature. Max has not yet joined any of the sects, since his neurochip caused only polite condescension, and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.and not a desire to participate in intellectual discussion.
All these difficult circumstances superimposed on a small cultural shock, Max received from familiarity with the Martian network standards. Previously, he didnβt really think about how the Martian networks achieve such data exchange rates in order to ensure the operation of all virtual lotions, such as cosmetic programs without glitches and brakes. Neurochip itself, being only an interface between the human brain and the network, of course, did not have the necessary power to run complex applications. Therefore, in the Martian networks, emphasis was placed on the speed of information exchange, so that the user could use the power of network servers. To ensure the reliable transmission of all these peta and zeta bytes between millions of users, Martian wireless communication systems have evolved into something incredibly complex.No tricks in the form of compaction and separation of radio channels have not helped for a long time, so in the underground cities to the limit not only the entire available radio frequency spectrum was clogged, but also the infrared and even crept into the ultraviolet. That what led to the presentation of special requirements even to the lighting and advertising signs. In general, the next Martian golem - the EMC Commission, committed at least as much as the others. And he could easily pick up for some non-certified flashlight.In general, the next Martian golem - the EMC Commission, committed at least as much as the others. And he could easily pick up for some non-certified flashlight.In general, the next Martian golem - the EMC Commission, committed at least as much as the others. And he could easily pick up for some non-certified flashlight.
Wireless repeaters in Tula were almost everywhere. From stationary: on the towers and ceilings of caves with a multitude of active antennas, to the simplest microrobots that cling to the walls of houses and caves like parasitic fungi. Managing the diversity of antennas, their coverage areas, taking into account the level of scattering and reflection of signals from multiple surfaces was one of the functions of the new supercomputer. Under its vigilant electronic eye, numerous repeaters sent signals where required with a given frequency and level, without interfering with each other, led users during their chaotic movements around the city and promptly transmitted to neighboring devices. Accordingly, users received a quality picture without brakes. Having received the first idea of ββhow it all works, Max, of course, lost confidence thatthat will cope with the design of such systems. But he didnβt smile at all to spend the rest of his life as an appendage to his neurochip. In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.But he didnβt smile at all to spend the rest of his life as an appendage to his neurochip. In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.But he didnβt smile at all to spend the rest of his life as an appendage to his neurochip. In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.In response to cautious inquiries, the leading optimizing programmer with a coldly arrogant little smile shared such a thousand-strong Talmud called: βgeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.βGeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ, that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.βGeneral principles of channel separation in Telecom wireless networksβ, that Max already on the second page of the Talmud felt far from being a genius. He understood that it was impossible to surrender. And he even outlined his priorities: to pass a trial period and save money for the modernization of his outdated chip. But so far I had to do the tedious work on the instructions, almost like on the conveyor. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.almost like on a conveyor belt. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.almost like on a conveyor belt. And Max felt how every day his determination was melting away somewhere: he sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of the optimization sector.
Some variety was made on duty every two weeks, when optimizers stupefied by endless databases went to work in the field: to fix minor faults in network equipment or optical cables. It was possible to refuse from duty, but Max grabbed hold of them with joy, as did many of his colleagues.
Usually, all the duties also looked like one another - Max and his partner searched for the failed microretranslator and replaced it with a new one. However, this quiet, not demanding special efforts and skills work became a kind of outlet in an endless series of monotonous everyday life. Also, as Max didnβt like to teach neural networks under the guidance of the Martians, he simply liked everything for some reason, as a simple installer. I liked his partner - Boris, with whom he shared optimizing bread in Telecom. They worked in the same hall, behind the neighboring terminals, and also went on duty together. Boris said that the meaning of the duties assumed by Telecom as a tradition is certainly not to compensate the company for the lack of low-skilled workers. And the fact is to get acquainted with the work of different departments of the company and team up.Apparently, a particularly clever manager from the personnel service came up with a duty, from the category of those who come up with all sorts of "exciting" corporate gatherings, which can be officially passed, but in practice it is not recommended.
Max did not like managers, and who loves them, but he liked this particular idea. βAnd from these hrenosos there is sometimes a benefit,β admitted Max after the first duty. Boris also contributed to the success of such an event. Calm, not talkative, with a philosophical and relaxed outlook on life. Boris is a short, slightly barrel-shaped lover of beer, network RPGs and unrealistic tales about Martian dwellers, their way of life and customs, was a bit like a gnome, that is, a dwarf, as he did not get tired of specifying, and always played back the appropriate character in his favorite online shows. . He also carried with him everywhere a weighty backpack with a full-fledged emergency kit and, for any irony, did not tire of seriously repeating that, in which case, he would survive alone, and the rest would die in agony. But in his magic backpackexcept for relatively useless oxygen cylinders, there were always beer and chips, so Max didnβt really make fun of it.
He and Boris, without saying a word, chose tasks in the most remote corners of the underground city. In just eight working hours, three tasks had to be accomplished, which was not a problem, even if it was slow to travel by public transport. Max liked to travel and liked the trains, so he got real pleasure from duty. Usually they took place as follows: a meeting with a partner at some station and then a gradual movement in gently swinging trains or fast-moving maglevs. Transplants at crowded central stations or the long wait for rare trains at dull tiled stations somewhere in the depths of distant dungeons. In the huge city of Tula, there was no generally accepted center, and there was not even a building system, it just crawled into the natural emptiness of the planet,like a chaotic cluster of stars in the sky. Somewhere there is a jumble of bright spots merging into one blinding spot, and somewhere a darkness of industrial areas, interspersed with rare lights. And the subway map Thule differed enchanting complexity. It resembled a masterpiece of an insane spider, which was woven around certain areas by a dense multi-level network, and somewhere left a single thin thread. In the evening before the trip, Max did not deny himself the inexplicable pleasure to turn a three-dimensional map, imagining how tomorrow he would float past this ball-shaped cluster of points, then through a thin line, somewhere overlooking the surface of the planet, he would fall into a cluster that looks like a fat, blurred blot, where to perform the first task. And you can get to the blot in another way, a little longer and with transfers,but passing through the frighteningly interesting area of ββthe first settlement.
The endless city of Tula, passing by, struck by its contrast: the empty gray-concrete rows of boxes in the gamma and delta zones gave way to freakish heaps of towers covered by a network of paths and platforms clogged by people with fiber optic fibers to ensure reception. transmission of light signals. Some adherents of fashion trends prefer elegant decorative umbrellas. People with funny umbrellas and hats seemed to Max to look like aliens with antennas in children's drawings, and, passing by Thule, their presence was only more like phantasmagoria. Martian cities never slept, in the dungeons the change of day and night is not visible, so everyone lived according to the time that was convenient for him. All institutions and organizations worked around the clock, and the streets were full of traffic at any time of the day.
Usually, they finished one or two bottles of beer with Boris before the first mission. Accordingly, the first task was carried out quickly and in high spirits, the second, in principle, too, with the implementation of the third already had some difficulties, so at last they tried to leave the easiest task and closer to home. Often, Max was silent and barely spoke to Boris, although Boris kept trying to tell some local bike, but seeing that his partner responded with monosyllabic phrases, he didnβt particularly press. Boris was the person, next to whom Max was completely comfortably silent, for some reason it seemed to him that he had known Boris for ten years already, and this trip was at least the hundredth. Max looked out the window, sometimes pressing his forehead to him, slowly sipping his beer and reflexively something like this:βI was a strange person - I wanted to go to Mars so much that I rushed like a clockwork toy, almost without interruptions for sleeping and eating. And here I am on Mars and what happens: I donβt need any work anymore, no career, I have completely lost the craving for all this running, as if a toggle switch had been switched. No, of course, I will do obviously the necessary things, such as passing qualifying exams, but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.And here I am on Mars and what happens: I donβt need any work anymore, no career, I have completely lost the craving for all this running, as if a toggle switch had been switched. No, of course, I will do obviously the necessary things, such as passing qualifying exams, but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.And here I am on Mars and what happens: I donβt need any work anymore, no career, I have completely lost the craving for all this running, as if a toggle switch had been switched. No, of course, I will do obviously the necessary things, such as passing qualifying exams, but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.but so, purely, by inertia. I completely lost purpose and motivation. What kind of downshifting is this in the Martian open spaces? Maybe then the installer will arrange, since I like everything in this work? Eh, Masha would see me, I would not avoid a serious conversation. But Masha is there, and I am here. β - Max logically concluded and printed out the second bottle.
Very often, during the trips of Max, thoughts about his incomprehensible dream of transforming Mars were visited, and Ruslanβs predictions about what he couldnβt make here had no career. "That's my whole Martian dream - to come to Mars, to understand that there is nothing to catch and relax." - thought Max. To share doubts, he turned to Boris, who seemed to be a man of reasonable and sophisticated experience:
βHere, Bor, you seem to know everything about local life.β Explain to me what the thing is - the Martian dream?
- What do you mean? Martian dream as a social phenomenon or a specific service of some companies.
- Is there such a service? - Max was surprised.
- Well, yes, you fell off the moon? Any child knows about it, although advertising this crap is officially banned - Boris explained with the air of a connoisseur. - Like if you have not achieved anything in life, have become disillusioned with it, and generally, if you are just a stupid loser, then you have one road to the Martian dream. There are special offices, which for a relatively modest fee, are ready to create a whole world in which everything will be as you wish. With your brain a little pokolduyut and you completely forget that the real world, in principle, exists. You will happily plop in your cozy matrix while you have money in your personal account. There is a light version of this drug shit, you can enjoy your own world for a couple of days, without therapeutic amnesia, such as going to a resort. But, you know, the pleasure version is not complete from the light version, it is not always possible to cheat,first of all, myself.
- And how do these light versions differ from the usual full immersion?
- There, the type is much steeper, you can not tell at all from the real world. They use clever m-chips and supercomputers to simulate all sensations.
- And how can the notorious losers take advantage of the Martian dream, is it, after all, probably quite expensive?
- Oh, Max, well, you really fell from the moon, more precisely from the Earth. Well, supercomputers, m-chips, so what? Virtually sunbathing on the Canary Islands is still a hundred times cheaper than flying there on a spaceship. Think about it yourself, life in Biovanna has a lot of advantages from the point of view of expenses: you donβt take a lot of places, food through an IV line, no expenses for transport, clothes, entertainment, yes, if you use the standard world from the providerβs catalog, then the Martian dream will be available to everyone. Even working as a waiter in an eatery, you can save for the Martian dream, provided that you rent a kennel in the βgammaβ zone and eat nutritious briquettes.
- What is it that turns out: somewhere in the depths of the red planet there are huge caves from top to bottom filled with rows of biowans with human beings inside? Come true means anti-utopian fantasies.
- Well, maybe everything is not so apocalyptic, but in general, yes, it is. There are definitely a lot of customers of the Martian dream. But they themselves have chosen it. In the modern world you are absolutely free in your choice, while it makes a profit to corporations.
- I had another culture shock, - stated Max, swallowing beer almost in one gulp.
- What's so shocking? Many people from other planets, undermining some money, go for the Martian dream. By the way, visas are issued to them without any problems at all, and unlimited tariffs are even partially compensated. Sorry, there are no social benefits on Mars and in the cities of the protectorate, and there are no fewer drunks, abandoned old people and others who did not fit into the market. Therefore, they are disposed of in such a relatively humane way, what's wrong with that?
- Yes it is a nightmare. This is very unfair.
- Not fair? The contract stipulates the conditions quite clearly.
- Not fair, in principle, to give such a choice. Man, as we know, is weak, and some things cannot be chosen.
- That is better to die painfully from alcoholism?
- Sure. If this path has already fallen, then we must go through it to the end.
- You, Max, turns out to be a fatalist.
- And the unlimited tariff is not really limited in time?
- If there is enough dough to pay for storage services for interest on the deposit, then the tariff will be really eternal. They can even remove the brains and put them in a separate jar. Brains on artificial support seem to be able to function for a couple of hundred years.
- I wonder how many such dreamers on Mars? From them really get electricity?
- Xs, Max, look better ask the neurogogla how many of them and what of them receive.
- I wonder what the process of concluding a contract looks like?
- Max, you scare me, I see you are not really interested in this filth. Play better in warcraft for example. Or thump in the end.
- Do not worry, so idle curiosity. But all the same, you come to the office and say: βI want to become a rock star in America of the sixtiesβ, so that wild popularity and screaming fans at concerts. Well, they say to you, here is a special annex to the contract, describe in it in as much detail as possible what you want to see.
- So it is, probably. Only own dreams are really expensive, the more original the more expensive, the norm-hour of the Martians is worth a lot. Usually they offer to choose from the standard set: a billionaire, a secret agent, or, for example, a brave conqueror of a galaxy on a spaceship.
- Suppose the brave conqueror of the galaxy, and then.
- Yes, I did not use this filth, I invent it myself ... Well, let's say further, so that it would not be boring for you to conquer the galaxy for decades, you will save the most beautiful woman from the clutches of evil aliens. And you, apparently, will be asked what kind of women do you prefer: brunettes, blondes, with the second size or with the fifth ... well, or, men.
- And if you really do not know?
-What do not know women or men? - Boris was surprised.
- Yes, no, if you yourself do not exactly know what you are dreaming about and cannot describe it, naturally assuming that you have enough money for a personal matrix.
- Once there is money, they will bring an experienced shrinking authority and it will pick out all the hidden desires from your unlucky head. Unless, of course, you yourself then will not be afraid of what you got. I think in the case of a Franz Kafka, this would not be a dream, but a living hell.
- To each his own, maybe someone would like to turn into a terrible insect.
- Do you know perverts in the world? What are you, you really do not know what you want?
- Yeah, that's my main problem.
- I hasten to assure you that you have some artificial problems.
- What can you do, a simple person has simple desires and motives, and a person with a complex organization of the psyche, you can see, is a complete grief from the mind. I still, among other things, am afraid that the Martians can unravel me before me. After all, they are not engaged in fruitless self-digging, but they are utilitarian and pragmatic in approaching any problem. That's why I imagined the phenomenon of the Martian dream in a completely different way.
- And how?
- Something like special supercomputer systems in the depths of the largest provider corporations, which are focused on deciphering human personalities on the history of their activities in the network. They gradually unravel what a particular user wants and unobtrusively slip into his virtual world what he wants to see in real life.
- What for?
- Well, why, so that a person would think that everything is fine and not twitch. Well, to zombie, suppress, and then scoff at the stupid people and get free energy from them. After all, any self-respecting Martian corporation should deal with this. Or, at the worst, to convince to shove another newest, most advanced uberdwais into the distressful brain.
- What are your difficult conspiracy theories on the surrounding reality. Relax, the world is simpler. Of course, the advertisement will be parked for you, but is there something to be guessed about ... What the hell is it for the poor people?
- Yes, it is so, rather inspired by the words of another person. What do you think about the Martian dream in a social sense?
- Beautiful fairy tale. In order to preserve their overwhelming intellectual advantage, the Martians draw with their tales all the best forces from the solar system and here they are drained into the toilet, in stupid jobs like a programmer-optimizer. At home, these home-grown intellectuals could and could do something useful.
βHa, it means that you are no stranger to the thought that the Martians are to blame for everything,β Max grinned.
βWhat to do is a convenient explanation,β Boris shrugged.
They were silent for a moment. Frozen, reddish landscapes of the surface rushed monotonously past. Behind Boris from time to time the gentleman, who shamelessly staked three seats at once for rest, shrank up a homeless kind.
- Yes, it turned out strange. - Max broke the silence. βApparently my Mars is a castle in the sand.β His first encounter with reality washed him away, leaving no trace.
- You know, you are worse than any Martians for yourself. Think better of real issues.
βAnd this tells me a devoted warcraft fan and a level 80 dwarf.β
βDwarf ... well, I'm a lost man, and you still have some hope.β
- Why is it immediately gone?
- The fate is not easy.
- Share?
- But hrenushki. The situation is not the same, the mood is not that. I have been calling you to sit somewhere for a long time: I know a couple of great bars, inexpensive and atmospheric, and you still invent left excuses. After work, you see, he canβt, get up early tomorrow, and on weekends he has some work to do, preparing for exams.
βNo, Iβm really getting ready,β Max said uncertainly.
- Yes, yes, I remember, you gnaw capital work: "The general principles of channel separation in wireless networks of Telecom." And how are you doing, mastered a lot?
βSo far, not very ..., and whom am I kidding,β Max confessed dejectedly.
- What has changed his mind to make it into the system architects?
- Old Max, Moscow school, would never have stopped a measly two thousand pages, but the new Max stalled something.
βYeah, all these dreams and self-digging only soften the will to win,β said Boris, importantly. - And even in the service of the staff did not visit?
- Come on. The manager is so interesting there. It seems to be a Martian, but a small growth, like an ordinary person. Although still a freak: skinny and huge head. And somehow he is a little bit livelier than his fellows, it looks more like a person, and not like a robot.
- Arthur Smith?
- Do you know him?
- I donβt drive personal acquaintance, but Iβm drawing a line in Telecom a long time ago, many interesting personalities have already become familiar. His eyes are still so big.
- Yes, yes, just the same huge eyes, also gray, moreover, and all Martians are usually black. This "white crow". He honestly explained that they would not take me as a leading expert, if only because of the old neurochip. Like, considering my age, installing a professional chip and most importantly learning how to work with it will cost the company a lot. The company can go to such costs, but only for the sake of particularly distinguished employees.
- I know one bike about this Arthur.
- Tell me.
- Rather, not even a bike, but gossip.
- So tell me.
βI won't,β Boris shook his head. βSheβs also not very decent.β If I had heard such a thing about myself, I would not be happy.
- Bor, you're just a sadist of some kind. I first mentioned the bike, then clarified that it was gossip, and then added that it was also dirty gossip. What, he got drunk on a corporate party and performed an incendiary dance on the table?
- Fi, such banal stories I would not have thought of telling, - Boris grimaced, - especially the Martians, as far as I know, do not drink alcohol.
- Let's tell already, stop breaking.
- No, I will not. I say the situation is not the same, the mood is different, after three or four glasses of rum with Mars-Cola, please always. Moreover, you did not appreciate my previous bike.
- Why did not appreciate. Very curious story.
- But ... - But
what?
- Last time you added "but."
βBut implausible,β Max threw up his hands.
- What is implausible in it?
- Yeah, the fact that the evil Martian corporations are sleeping and seeing how to get into everyone's soul, do you not believe? And the fact that the entire network is a kind of semi-intelligent substance, such as a living ocean, which gives rise to virtual monsters that swallow users ... Is this all true truth?
- Of course, true, I saw it with my own eyes. Yes, look at some of our colleagues, they have long become shadows, I'm sure.
- And who among our colleagues has become a shadow? Gordon can?
- Why Gordon?
- Too enthusiastically licking ass Martians, leading programmer fucking. Only presentations do and know how.
- Yes, no, Max, the Martians have nothing to do with it.
- That is, your digital Solaris, no matter who to eat, people or Martians?
- The network doesn't eat anyone on purpose, you didn't listen to me at all in my opinion. A shadow is something that is a reflection of our own thoughts and desires, but does not have any particular physical medium or piece of code.
βA digital god to worship and sacrifice?β
- Just not necessary. Shadows are born only by people themselves. So you think that the network will endure everything - all stupid, nasty requests, entertainment, and you will not get anything for it. In virtual reality, you can torture kittens with impunity or dismember little girls. Yeah, well! Any request or action on the network casts a shadow. And if all your thoughts and desires revolve around virtual entertainment, sooner or later this shadow will come to life. And then excuse me how you behaved, so will the shadow. If the real world is so boring and uninteresting, then the shadow will gladly take your place while you are having fun online. And you will not notice how the shadow will become real, and you will become its ethereal slave.
- Yeah, apparently your shadow looks like a gnome in mithril armor with a beard to the navel.
βHaha ... You can laugh as much as you want, but, I answer, once I saw my shadow.β I did not go to full immersion for a month.
- And what did this terrible shadow look like?
βHow ... a dwarf with my features.β
- Oh, Borya ...
Max choked on beer and for some time could not cough and laugh.
- Dwarf with your features! Maybe you accidentally looked in the mirror? .. Forgot to turn off makeup before that?
- Yes, you go! - Boris waved his hand and opened the second bottle of beer. βYouβll finish until the shadow appears, then thereβs no laughing matter.β
- Yes, I am not going there to dive with you, nor to get into it. All these warkrafty and harborian eras do not drag me too much.
- To do this, it is not necessary to gamble, to spend a lot of time in full immersion, no matter what the purpose And you know what you can not do in any case?
- And what?
- In a dive, in no case can you fuck bots.
- Seriously? Maybe porn can not watch. Yes, half of the users for the sake of this latest chip upgrades and biovanna order.
- They do not understand what they are doing. Any strong emotion helps the shadows to be born, and sex is the strongest emotion.
βThen everyone would create these shadows.β Or at least would go with hairy palms, if you believe the older version of this bike.
- And maybe yes, who knows how many shadows live among us? The shadow will have access to all of your memory and personality while you sit in virtual slavery. How to distinguish it from a real person?
- Yes, nothing - shrugged Max. - Modern bot is difficult to distinguish. Just some tricky logical questions. And the evil, revived neural network, generated by the evils of human nature ... there are no options. Maybe we are the only two true people, and all around are some shadows?
- The digital apocalypse is inevitable if people do not think again and do not stop breeding trash, waste and sodomy on the Internet.
- Sect already smacks: βRepent, sinnersβ! In my opinion, some people spend too much time on dragging all orcs, in the words of one acquaintance, so they begin to see shadows and other glitches.
- Bore you Max. Any legend is based on something ...
- Please forgive me, - the awakened bomberate gentleman suddenly interrupted Boris, - but the subject of your conversation seemed to me so interesting ... Will you allow it?
Without waiting for an invitation, the newly formed friend climbed closer to them. His face: thin, wrinkled and overgrown, betrayed a battered life of a man who clearly has no money for cosmetic software. A modest wardrobe consisted of torn jeans, a T-shirt and a worn jacket from which a dirty gray sintepon was climbing out. βAnd where does the environmental service look?β - thought Max. βIt feels like this mutated Greenpeace has been following me from the ramp of the shuttle, but the guy across is at least a henna.β However, Max didnβt feel much of an amber, so he didnβt show his discontent with his new neighbor.
- Let me introduce myself: Philip Kochura, for Phil friends. Currently a free-wandering philosopher.
βWhat an elaborate euphemism,β Max said sarcastically.
- Classical education makes itself felt. Sorry I did not hear your name, my friend.
- Max. At present, a promising scholar who has escaped from corporate slavery for a day.
βBoris,β Boris reluctantly introduced himself.
- Do not allow to taste your refreshing drink? Thirst completely exhausted me.
Boris glanced at the uninvited friend in annoyance, but took a bottle of beer from his backpack.
- Much grateful. - Phil paused for a moment, sticking to the freebie. - So, with regard to the conversation that was accidentally overheard, I apologize for the intrusion a second time, but it seems that you, Maxim, do not believe in the shadows?
- No, I am ready to believe in anything, if they are presented at least some evidence?
βWell, if you want to believe, if you want to, no, but I saw a real shadow come to life and talked to her.
Boris vigilantly guarded the backpack from Phil's further inclinations. The skepticism written on his face, perhaps, would have been envied by a paleontologist who had entered into an argument with a creationist, as if he himself had not reproached his companion with an annoyance a moment ago.
- Tortured virtual kittens? Well, the road is far, go ahead, tell me, - Max agreed easily.
- My story began in the distant 2120 year. It was a terrible time: the ghosts of the collapsed states still roamed the Solar System. And I, young, strong, not at all the same as now, was eager to fight with omnipresent corporations. Then they released neurochips with the option to disable the wireless connection. Such chips allowed a lot to an intelligent person. In those years, I had a great understanding of the intricacies of illegal work. Now, of course, no one is confused by the initially closed architecture of all axes, as well as the constantly open wireless ports on the chip. You know that ports 10 to 1000 on a chip are always open.
βThank you, we know,β Max confirmed.
- Do you know why they are needed?
- To transfer service information.
- Yeah, besides service information, a lot of things are transmitted through them. For example, the development of cosmetic software has long been agreed to also use these ports. Otherwise, if you use the usual ones, then it is enough for normal people to install a firewall and the clients of these offices will appear in their original form. But most importantly, everyone, in kind, does not care that they have taken away the right to privacy ...
- This is very sad, true. We regret the loss of privacy, βMax said deliberately with an ingratiating voice.β But you were about to tell you about the shadow that had come to life.
- I am leading to that. Is it possible to soak a little throat? - asked Phil, showing an empty bottle and carefully turned in the direction of Boris, but he came across a prickly look, which did not bode well - No, well, okay. So, when you are captured by some kind of ambitious goal, you rush forward, like a pony horse. In the days of my youth, I was such a galloping horse. When rushing without breaking the road, the world around trembles and floats in a reddish fog, and the words of reason drown in the roar of hooves. I thought that everything was on my shoulder and I could run in the shortest way to the goal. But the ancients correctly said that a real samurai should not look for easy ways ...
- Listen, buddy, I understand you are a philosopher and all that, but is it possible to quickly get to the bottom.
- What are you, Max, hung his ears at all, - Boris got up irritably, - found someone to listen to.
- Okay, Bor, let the man finish.
- Well, I ran, it means, without sorting the roads, and then the lasso was thrown around my neck and dragged down from the slope. And so quickly and unexpectedly, as if I were a limp rag doll. And the fall began, it would seem, with utter nonsense: I was given an important task, and for the sake of conspiracy I had to become for a while an inhabitant of the Martian dream ...
- So you were in the Martian dream? - Max perked up. - Tell me, what does she look like?
- So in a nutshell not to describe. I have been there many times. At the moment, for the past two years in strings. But recently, a good sum has broken off for me, so I will soon find myself there again. For a full five-year plan, there are literally not enough pairs of creeps. In the lousy reality, the Martian dream is like a beautiful bright dream. The details are remembered with difficulty, but I really want to go back. Just a little bit, and this smelly train and our conversation will turn into an unpleasant, but harmless dream there ... Damn, my friend, my nature was dry in my throat, it was already tearing. - Phil eagerly stared at the magic backpack.
- Bor, treat our friend.
Boris addressed Max a very expressive look, but he shared a bottle.
βSo, in the Martian dream, do you still remember real life?β
- ... Yes, there are different options, - Phil did not answer right away, to start with a pretty sip of the healing elixir. - If the memories cause intolerable discomfort, they will be relieved of them, no problem, but only when buying an unlimited option. I didnβt have that kind of money, so I have to be content with traveling for three or four years. On short and medium trips, amnesia is prohibited, otherwise how to return you back. But local shower engineers came up with a cunning psychological effect. In dreams, reality seems blurred half-forgotten dream. Like, you know, there are such nightmares in which you end up in jail, or you throw up exams at the university. And then you wake up and with relief you realize that this is just a nightmare. Here in the Martian dream about as well.You wake up in a cold sweat and exhale fuf ... the lousy reality is just a harmless dream. True, there is a small side effect: the dream itself on returning acquires the same features.
- Strange, is there any impression, or say a guided tour, of value, if you practically lost the memory of her? - asked Max.
βHe has, of course,β Phil answered confidently, βI remember how good I was.β There is also a common option to wipe the memory selectively, so that the Martian dream develops as a continuation of a previous life. It seems to live as he lived, but luck suddenly turns his face, and not his usual place. Suddenly you discover an incredible talent in yourself, or you become successful in business, you earn a lot of money, you buy a villa on the coast, women give any, again. Any deception: everything that has ordered comes true. And you will not feel a dirty trick either: the program deliberately throws up various obstacles that must be courageously overcome.
- And if you order the victory of the anti-Martian revolution throughout the Solar System, and yourself in the role of a leader, driving Martians to filtration camps, where they are barbarously removed by neurochips?
βYou can even poison them in gas chambers, at least build communism,β laughed Phil. - Guys who sell dreams, indulgent to the fads of customers.
Boris also considered it necessary to comment:
- And you thought someone had a business with regard to the political convictions of down-dreamers. It is not enough in the world offended by the brutal arbitrariness of corporations. You are not the first, not the last, who wants to carry out a revolution and build communism.
- What makes you think that I want it? - Max shrugged.
- From the fact that he had already lifted his own conversations about the Martian dream. Do you want bomzhe on cars too?
- What are you angry, Bor?
- Yes, what is this aggressive bias? - Phil was offended a little. - All thumps, hang out all day in online games, but when they see a harmless dreamer, they mob with hypocritical reproaches. You are angry at yourself, but you are tearing evil at others. We only go a little further than the average man in the street. And, mind you, we do not do anything bad to anyone.
- Blah blah blah, standard nagging. Nobody loves us, does not understand ...
βIn short, don't pay attention, Max,β Phil continued. - In fact, if you donβt touch your memory, then the dream doesnβt differ from the online games, or from the same social networks, except for the duration of your stay. In the standard world from the catalog, there will be living people around, you can even hang out with friends there. You can join someone's personal dream, it will be cheaper, but you have to accept that the owner of the dream will be some dictator-emperor there. In general, the options are different.
βBut the end is always the same,β Boris stated. - Complete social maladjustment and progressive sclerosis from your psychological effects.
βThey are not mine ... But the memory is fine,β Phil agreed suddenly. - Yes, and return, of course, every time more and more difficult. Lousy reality is not waiting for us with open arms. The world changes every time in jumps and after three or four trips you score on attempts to catch up with what's what. You plow like a robot to save for another year or two. Often, patience is not enough, you break down, really not having earned anything ... - Phil was already rather tired after a couple of bottles. Boris waited his hand fatefully and gave the third one.
βIf only I shut up at last,β he explained, βthis, by the way, is the last.β
βI'll buy it on the way,β Max promised. βI cannot understand one thing: why not hang out in the Martian dream without any amnesia and side effects.β Then it will turn into a fairly harmless entertainment.
βIt won't turn,β Boris snapped. - Whatever dreamers and providers are not trying to do about harmlessness and similarity to ordinary online games, they themselves know perfectly well that without psychological effects, this whole undertaking completely loses its meaning. The Martian dream was invented to create the illusion of a happy life, and not to overwhelm the monster and get another level-up. And happiness is a fragile thing. This is a state of mind, we are not entirely primitive animals, which for happiness will be enough for an unlimited amount of money and females. And in the Martian dream, such prosaic things as public recognition and self-esteem are impossible without complete or partial amnesia.
βYou know the topic, uk,β Phil said. - You know what makes the brain in a moment. From a personal dream, no matter with full or partial amnesia. I saw one cupcake, which was taken from a personal dream. He turned some scam there to pay, but it was revealed. I spent only four years there, but the sight was a pitiful ...
- More pitiful than you?
- Yes, okay, Boris, do not drive. I have everything under control. I'm not a fool, I understand what should be the right trip. And with that cupcake, the dream was like a paradise, everything falls from the sky and it is not necessary to move a finger. Type of surprises from the environment in the spirit of call-response, so the consciousness is degrading with a fucking speed. Yes, and in view of the complete inadequacy, real people in his cozy little world did not risk appearing. Some bots had fun with him. In fact, a bot can be easily distinguished from a person, if you know what to look for. It seems to me that no one keeps such uporotyh for too long. So, they would spin Kintso for about ten years, until the brains were finally softened, and then they poured the contents of the biowany down the drain and started the next one, ik, and Phil foolishly giggled.
- You see, Max, laid out the whole truth-uterus.
- Yeah, well done what. A provocative question arises: if the Martian dream cannot be distinguished from reality, then maybe we are there. How can I, for example, understand that Phil is not a software bot?
- Why is it me - a software bot? I'm not a bot, uk.
βDraw him a captcha,β Boris suggested. - Or ask your cunning logical question.
- Phil, repeat the third word in just that phrase.
- What?- Philip blinked.
- Similarly, the bot, or shadow. We actually started a conversation with this: like, you met a lively shadow somewhere. Can you tell me all the same, where did you find her?
- In the Martian dream, of course.
βYeah, thatβs the place for them,β Boris agreed, slightly tempering his skepticism towards Phil.
- Hey, Phil, do not sleep, come on. Tell me about it.
Max shook the peeping philosopher's nose.
- Well, I generally consisted of the organization Quadius. He was an ordinary quad and performed various tasks throughout the Solar System. Received all instructions, deciphering messages of the user with the nickname "Kadar" in one social network. I almost never saw my comrades, knew nothing about who led us, but I believed that we were close to victory and the total power of corporations would soon collapse. Now I understand what stupid things have led to, and how much our fluttering up to the lantern Neurotek also was.
- So what, that is stupid, but the struggle for a just cause. Everything is better than just merging from the real world.
- Better, I agree.
- And how did you get to your life today?
- How did you get, how did you get, let them sleep already, - Boris was eager to finish the conversation. - The rubbish on which he sat down causes a strong psychological dependence. Once you have tried it will not jump.
βI didnβt go there myself the first time,β Phil began in a slightly justifying voice. - The first time I was sent there to get some important information, and then as a courier to deliver it to Titan. Information is pumped into the brain using a hypnoprogram, and then only the one who utters the code word can get it. Hearing the correct code, the courier falls into a trance and accurately reproduces what they have downloaded into it, even if there is a meaningless set of numbers or sounds. Information is stored directly in the neurons, and you yourself do not have access to it, and there is no artificial carrier that can be detected. I do not know how to do this trick, but it is very safe from the point of view of secrecy. Even if the courier is captured by Neyrotek, they will not achieve anything from him.
- And this Quadius can be seen technically savvy, - said Max.
- Yeah.In short, I had to get the information in the Martian dream. The organization often used the dream as a safe place to meet. There, after all, has its own network, not connected with the Internet, and even its own physical interfaces, such as m-chips. Corporations need to specifically bother to get in there. Is that the admins of the Martian dream themselves accidentally logs look. But usually everyone doesnβt care what customers do there.
- And your organization was not afraid that the brave quads can inadvertently get the feeling of frequent meetings? - Max asked.
- No, I was not afraid. And I was not afraid, but we had a great goal ...
- Well, did you see the shadow coming to life? - Max persistently asked, seeing that Phil is trying to glue the flippers together.
- Saw.
- And what does she look like?
βLike a dumb Nazgul in a black ragged raincoat with a deep hood.β Instead of her face, there is a tangle of inky darkness in which piercing blue eyes shine.
- And where did you get that it was the notorious shadow? In the Martian dream you can certainly look like anything.
- I do not know what it was: a complex virus, embedded in the software of the Martian dream or real artificial intelligence. I am only sure that it was not a person or a service bot. I looked into those eyes and saw myself, my whole life at once, all my pathetic memories and dreams of winning over corporations. All my future, even this conversation was in those eyes. I can never forget them ... now my life has no other worthy use, except to serve as a shadow, without it it doesnβt make any sense ... Then I heard the order and immediately chopped off, and when I woke up, the shadow disappeared.
βYes, it looks like this shadow will cripple immature minds,β Max shuddered.
- Phil, rise. Next is what? What is the order?
- Deliver a secret message to Titan. They come to certain places every day for three weeks and wait for the one who comes for the message.
- You completed the task? Has anyone come?
- I do not know, I did everything as the shadow ordered. If someone came, I could forget about it. I only remember that I was in the frozen hole for three full weeks.
- Is the message still inside you?
βProbably, but, believe me, it is no longer available than Alpha Centauri.β
βI did everything as the shadow ordered,β Boris put into words the maximum degree of sarcasm he was capable of. - And you did not think that you just had a dream. A small side effect of the abuse of digital drugs.
βIβm saying that I didnβt abuse anything.β However, maybe you're right, I just had a dream. Huddled around in the lousy reality a little more, I realized that both the world of free software, and the victory over corporations, I just saw, and I was always an ordinary stupid dreamer. Now I donβt even have confidence that Quadius organization exists, that non-corporations played cat and mouse with us. What was I supposed to do? I returned to the world where my struggle was real. Then, of course, he tried to quit, stayed for about five years ..., but, of course, he broke ... And then it went, and it went ...
Phil finally exhausted and closed his eyes.
- Max, do not tereby him, please, let him sleep already.
- Let him sleep. Sad story.
βSad nowhere,β agreed Boris.
Max turned to his reflection in the window. Another dreamer stared at him out of the darkness rushing past the tunnel. βYes, the modern world is saturated with the spirit of solipsism, and my head is crammed with its confused creatures,β he stated. - The trick of the Martian dream is not even that it delays, like a drug, the trick is hidden in its very existence. Suppose you achieved what you wanted in this life: you planted a tree, raised your son, built communism, but you will have no confidence that there is no illusion around ... β
The train slowed down at the station, interrupting the smooth flow of thoughts with the hissing of the doors being opened.
- Isn't this our station? - Boris came to his senses.
- Damn, grab the bags!
- Where and chips where?
- Oh, you forgot the most valuable. Hold the door.
- Hurry, Max, this is not Moscow, for βhold the door,β then a sickly fine will be sent.
βIβm running ... Bye Phil, if you will in our reality, we can meet together,β Max finally pushed an accidental fellow traveler, and ran to the exit, unnaturally jumping high at every step, a recent arrival from Earth affected.
Max tried to quickly get out of the head of the hapless revolutionary and his sentimental stories. But, constantly, it was worth a little distraction from the routine of everyday life, his thoughts returned to the same direction. And in the end, one fine evening before the weekend, brewing synthetic tea in a tiny robotic kitchen, when, in principle, you could do something useful, but you could score for everything, Max could not stand it and called. He agreed on everything, made a prepayment and made an appointment tomorrow morning. It is known that the morning of the evening is wiser, but, unfortunately, in the morning, having jumped out of bed, Max did not even think about anything. With his head clean and empty, like a balloon, he went to meet his dream.
At the reception of the corporation "DreamLand" sat the secretary, having fun changing visual images. Now she turned into a glamorous blonde, then into a burning oriental beauty. But, seeing the client, immediately threw these nonsense and invited the manager - Alexei Gorin. He was quite the usual balding middle-aged man, and not some sleek, shiny hog, exuding fake goodwill on top of a poorly concealed intention to push. In response to Maxβs nervous joke about where to sign with blood, he smiled politely and said that he didnβt need to hurry and left, leaving the client alone for a few minutes with himself.
Perhaps this five-minute doubt and rescued Max, at the last moment carefully re-weighing everything and assessing the possible consequences, he refused. However, the price of a two-day dream, given the problems with the old neurochip and the need for an urgent refinement of the standard program in accordance with its own whims, was also impressive. And literally after a few minutes, crouching on the steps in front of the building, swallowing ice-cold mineral water, Max felt that he was awake from delusion. Unconscious collective visions of the magic city of Thule no longer came to him in restless dreams. A little ashamed of his own stupidity, he diligently and forever forgot about the Martian dream and thanked all the gods together that they grabbed his hand at the last moment, sending a bit of doubt and elementary greed. With the mere thought ofas far as random and blind reasoning kept him from an irreparable decision, he was thrown into cold sweat. Well, it's okay, because they judge for their actions, not for their intentions.
Having banished from thoughts the absurd ghosts generated by the lack of inner strength to resist the temptations, Max felt much more confident. What previously seemed unattainable was suddenly clear from the fog of abstract reflections on the meaning of being and turned into a purely technical problem. Max stubbornly and hard climbed the career ladder. First up to the system engineer projects. At first, he was, of course, healthy with complexes because of the apparent intellectual superiority of the Martians over ordinary people. Both eidetic memory, and the fantastic speed of thought, and the ability to solve in the mind a system of differential equations, greatly impressed an unprepared person. However, over time, it became apparent that the abilities of a seedy computer were even more impressive. The whole trick wasto combine this computer with neurons in the head and learn how to manage it mentally. Traditionally, it was believed that an adult no longer possesses the necessary flexibility of mind in order to fully perceive serious modifications of the nervous system. But Max was exhausting himself with long, long workouts, like a man re-taking steps after a serious spinal injury. He himself was amazed where did so much dedication and faith in success come from, because the first ten thousand steps were awkward and similar to torture. Gradually, Max ceased to feel inferior among the Martian elite.like a man re-doing steps after a serious spinal injury. He himself was amazed where did so much dedication and faith in success come from, because the first ten thousand steps were awkward and similar to torture. Gradually, Max ceased to feel inferior among the Martian elite.like a man re-doing steps after a serious spinal injury. He himself was amazed where did so much dedication and faith in success come from, because the first ten thousand steps were awkward and similar to torture. Gradually, Max ceased to feel inferior among the Martian elite.
After productive activity as a system engineer, Max was entrusted to represent the interests of Telecom in the Advisory Board. Thanks to him, Telecom, together with INKIS, very fruitfully participated in the further development of the planets and satellites of the Solar System. Over time, the inconvenience of the Earth as the main material and technical base of civilization became apparent. The deepest gravity well increased too much the transportation costs, and all the same resources: energy and mineral, were abundant on the minor planets and asteroids. Mankind gradually moved to outer space, the first terrestrial cities appeared on Mars, covered with power domes, the planet terraforming process was in full swing,and the project of creating a new interstellar spacecraft was in the air and Max felt himself involved in this rapid progress.
As soon as life priorities were set and the path to them passed through the shortest distance, time flew as if in an accelerated survey. It would seem a strange paradox: for someone who is absorbed in his beloved for days, time often flies by. And when family concerns are mixed, then the years go by in minutes. So twenty-five years flew in one moment. Weeks and months flew like lines of infinite program code, scrolling down with the key pressed. Before my eyes, endless lines were sweeping up, and under this accompaniment Max gradually turned from an ordinary person into a pale Martian sitting on a levitating platform. With the final chord, doubts and worries disappeared in his huge black eyes, and running lines of code were reflected in their place. He also married Masha, transported his mother to the red planet,brought up two children, Mark and Susan, who had never seen the earth or the sea, but, by the way, the children did not regret it. They were the children of free space.
βYes, how quickly time flies, as if yesterday I was nibbled in a small rented apartment on the outskirts of the beta zone deep underground, and today I sip tea in the kitchen of my own mansion in the prestigious Io area of ββMariner Valley,β Max thought. He finished his tea and, without looking, threw the mug toward the sink. An octopus-like kitchen robot, peeking out from under the sink, deftly grabbed a flying object and sucked it into its dishwasher so that in a few seconds it could be returned clean and shiny.
Max went to the window, it swung open, and a stream of sunlight poured onto his fragile figure. The fragrance of the eternal summer of a green valley, safely sheltered by a power dome and additionally illuminated by a solar reflector in a stationary orbit all year round, breathed. Max stretched out his hand to the double sun, his brush became so fragile and thin that it seemed to penetrate the light and see how the blood beats in the smallest vessels on the skin. βI did change a lot,β Max stated, βnow Iβve ordered my way back to Earth, though I forgot on this overcrowded, crap ball. The whole space is open before me, if I, of course, agree to participate in the interstellar expedition, and if Masha agrees. I really do not want to fly without it. The children are almost adults, they will sort it out themselves, but you have to persuade her at any cost, I donβt want to fly alone ... β
Max grabbed a bottle of Marsa Cola from the table, ice from the refrigerator and went to lie in the shade of overgrown cherries by the pool. Low gravity and almost ideal conditions of artificial biosphere contributed to the prosperity of personal biocenosis. The vegetation was slightly neglected, so it seemed that after taking a few steps, you find yourself in a corner of the old park, hidden from prying eyes, where contemplation of the yellowing leaves floating in the water brings peace and tranquility to the soul. Max even wanted to have some large ornamental fish with bulging eyes in the pool. However, the family council decided that the pool should be used for its intended purpose, and for fish to buy an aquarium, and indeed, so the whole house was made up of models of space ships, there were not enough fish in the pool. Having grown rich, Max really spent a lot of money on modeling;at the same time, the acquired models became more and more complex and sophisticated, but their own labor was invested less and less. Due to lack of time and effort, preference was given to ready-made copies. Dear, perfectly executed, they piled up, folded into the attic, children broke them during the game, but Max did not worry about them. Only the beloved, battered life βVikingβ moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was protected more strictly than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.Due to lack of time and effort, preference was given to ready-made copies. Dear, perfectly executed, they piled up, folded into the attic, children broke them during the game, but Max did not worry about them. Only the beloved, battered life βVikingβ moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was protected more strictly than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.Due to lack of time and effort, preference was given to ready-made copies. Dear, perfectly executed, they piled up, folded into the attic, children broke them during the game, but Max did not worry about them. Only the beloved, battered life βVikingβ moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was protected more strictly than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.shabby life, the Viking moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was guarded stricter than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.shabby life, the Viking moved to a transparent crystal with an inert atmosphere and was guarded stricter than passwords from wallets. But the real Viking was returned from the Museum of the Master of Mars to the pedestal in front of the cosmodrome by the cares of its main admirer and placed in a similar transparent crystal of the appropriate size. Guests and residents of Thule began to call him a crystal ship.
A flock of personal robots with a short train reached for the owner into the garden. Molecular processors scattered around the nervous system required constant monitoring of the state of the environment. As well as life without diseases and pathologies up to one hundred and fifty years, demanded an equally strict biological discipline. A cyber gardener emerged from his hole and, with a guilty-businesslike appearance, began to restore order in the territory entrusted to him.
Masha and the children were supposed to appear only in the evening, but for now Max had a few hours to enjoy the peace. He deserved some rest after so many years of hard work for the benefit of Telecom. In addition, it was necessary once again to think carefully about everything. Max himself received the offer to take part in the interstellar expedition quite recently and did not know how Masha would react to the prospect of leaving the Solar System forever in order to start life anew in the literal and figurative sense. At least, thanks to the latest cryo-freezing technology, they will not waste twenty years on space flight. About possible failures and dangers, Max did not even think. He was absolutely confident in the supernormal abilities gained during the years of life on Mars. Reasonable supercomputers can not be wrong. Ahead lay the senseless and merciless conquest of a new star system.
Comfortably lounging in front of the pool, he succumbed to a pleasant feeling of idleness. The house was located on a small hill. Behind the house, the wall of the Mariner Valley faded into the sky with enormous run-ups and faults. Along the upper edge of the wall, following its capricious bends, the emitters of the force field diverged into the distance. A crown of miniature lightning sparkled and popped around the radiators, recalling the terrible power running through the metal bodies to the opposite side of the valley. From time to time huge rainbow-colored spots blurred over the heads of the inhabitants of the valley, like on a soap bubble, reminding of how thin the film separates them from the surrounding space. The opposite wall was not visible, instead of it piled mountain ranges, passing through the center of the valley. They have already acquired the usual ice caps and green bottoms, like those of the earthly giants.The outlines of the city, consisting of spiers and towers, appeared a little in the bluish haze. Artificial rivers flowed from the ridge and walls of the valley, the city was buried in verdure, at night the air was filled with the sultry aroma of flowering meadows and the grasshoppers rattled deafeningly. And it was all absolutely real, even though it looked like a dream.
Unfortunately, pleasant solitude was soon interrupted by an annoying neighbor. Nothing good can last too long. Sonny Dimon was a well-known network blogger who specialized in lighting various technical innovations, although he didnβt understand much about the technique. His physiognomy was the most ordinary, unremarkable and, on the whole, he looked like a gray, inconspicuous anonymous author of those who were rushing past thousands on their way to work. And he dressed in the same style, in casual slightly ripped jeans and a light gray jacket with a hood. He even managed without some frilly yellow scarf tied around his thin neck.
- Hello, buddy, there is not a minute.
Max looked skeptically at the uninvited guest.
- So chat went?
βYeah,β Sonny crouched beside him, let out a couple of meaningless comments about the weather, drummed his fingers on the table and asked. βCan you help with the cyber gardener?β
- I watched your blog yesterday. You seem to like the technique?
βYes, I'm lying,β he said.
- And you are not bothered to hang all the noodles on the ears about the innovations of the high-tech industry?
- So the producers of new products are able to bring strong arguments in favor of an unobtrusive story about their products.
- Yes, advertisements in your blog are both hidden and obvious, more than enough. Look, you lose so much the whole audience.
- Do not believe it, with finances full ass, you have to go to extreme measures. But agree, it is executed all the same at the highest level. An ordinary moderately cool, moderately instructive story about how my best friend mastered the new functions of the neurochip.
- Well, well, next time he will master the neurochip of a competitor company.
- Life is changeable. What about a cyber gardener?
- And what happened to him? Trimmed something wrong.
- Yes there is a bit. The mother-in-law, with her eerie tulips, planted them everywhere, and this stupid piece of silicon cut them off along with the grass, although I sort of set him all the rules. The cry now will be ...
- Try to install the mother-in-law a special tulip splash screen on the chip, she won't notice the difference. All right, give the password from your piece of silicon.
Max got into the wireless interface of the garden piece of iron and, having habitually accelerated the course of subjective time, quickly corrected the obvious mistakes of the previous user.
- Done, now will cut according to the rules.
- Well done you, Max. You know, I'm so sick of pretending.
- And you do not pretend. Honestly write that the neurochips of the company N. - complete bullshit.
- Mummery - the cost of my profession. You know, if you write with talent about what the neurochips of N. are actually sludge, you will definitely find a representative of the company M. and ask you to squeeze a couple more posts in the same spirit. It's hard to resist.
- Have right.
- Well, at least with you I can not pretend.
- Not worth it, honestly. In me, these neurochips, like glitches in the new OS of Telecom. So, I'm not your target audience.
- Yeah, not bad to be superman.
- In what sense?
βYes, in direct,β Sonny replied mysteriously, hooliganly clicking on one of the robots digging around Max. - Do you like the role of superman?
- I do not play any roles.
- We all play. I play the role, you play, but I read my script, but you still do not.
- And what is your role?
- Well, the role in the measure of a stupid neighbor against the background of which your brilliant abilities look even more brilliant.
- Really? - Max, surprised, choked on cola. - Congratulations, you're doing pretty well.
- I try ...
- Listen, dear neighbor, you are some strange today, would go home to sleep. Honestly, I wanted to be alone, and not go crazy with you.
- I understand, you, in fact, always dreamed of being alone.
- Yeah, I dream to be alone right now, at least for a couple of hours.
βOkay, Max, let's drop the pretense.β I do not pretend to you. Honestly, I also dream to be alone, I also do not need anyone. All these ridiculous human feelings, relationships only make you suffer and distract from the really important things. Why go through these ridiculous cycles of rebirth. He was born, grew up, fell in love, started a child, raised him, his wife gash - he divorced, and the children left and repeated the same thing. How nice it would be to break out of the vicious circle, to become an impassive, intelligent machine and live forever.
- Yes, I'm already half the car. And what you did not please the kids?
- It was meant that it would be good to get the perfect mind in the real world.
- And we are in your world?
- A philosophical question, whether everything is just a figment of our imagination. Think about it.
- So, the middle half. Half of the surrounding world is exactly the result of processing digital signals, and the second half, who knows.
- Ask yourself and try to answer honestly: is what you see real?
Max looked at the interlocutor with a mixture of condescension and light irony.
- Such questions cannot be answered. These Gnostic postulates are not fundamentally refuted, the same as trying to prove the existence of a higher mind.
- But you have to try? Otherwise, what is the meaning of our life?
- Today, what is the day of rhetorical questions or what? Honestly, Iβm trying to get rid of you politely somehow, but you are very rude to hang on to me like a bath sheet. Please leave your deeply philosophical conversations for grazing the Internet audience.
- Eh, Max, I was not going to work out on you the technique of grazing the audience. Well, I will also say bluntly: your world is a prison, human weaknesses and vices led you into a golden cage. Find a way out of here, prove that you deserve to gain power over the world of shadows.
- I am not going to search for anything. What are you attached to, really?
Sonny looked genuinely bewildered.
- Well, suppose for a moment that the world around is a real prison. Do you really care, or are you playing with me like that?
- I actually like my life, but from possible perspectives, it captures the spirit. The only thing I want is not to go to the interstellar flight in proud solitude, so that you do not invent it yourself. By the way, I did not tell you, I was offered to take part in an expedition to Alpha Centauri.
βIt doesn't matter if you like prison walls or not.β And, yes, Masha agree to fly with you to conquer new worlds, and you will obey them and everyone will admire you?
- How do you know? No one can know the future.
βThe jailers know exactly what the prisoners will be doing in the near future.β
βOkay, suppose if you are one of the jailers, then why help me, and even so obsessively?β
- No, you're probably kidding, it's pretty cruel of you. I said I'm pretending. At the moment, pretending to be your neighbor, but in reality ...
- In fact, you are Santa Claus. I guess?
- Not very witty. You canβt imagine what kind of torture this is, when one second is equal to a thousand years, and there is a huge sandy beach around, where there is only that precious grain of sand to be found. From century to century, I sift through the empty sand. And so on to infinity and no hope of success. But now, it seemed to me that I had found someone who would again return the meaning to my existence. And you turned out to be a simple shadow, like millions of others.
Sonny looked terribly depressed. Max was seriously worried.
- Listen, buddy, you can call a doctor. You scare me a little.
βItβs not worth it, I'll go, perhaps.β He rose heavily from the table.
- Would you throw your blogging. Swing better to Olympus for a couple of days, pull off well, otherwise donβt get me wrong ... but I donβt want to live next to the crazy neighbor.
Now Sonny looked at the other person with genuine disappointment.
βYou could free yourself and me, but instead continue to engage in self-deception.β And now both of us will wander forever in the world of shadows.
- Just calm down, okay. If you want, you can type me out of prison, but I do not mind ...
- You should have freed yourself.
- Ok, but how?
- Learn to distinguish sleep from reality and wake up.
Max shrugged in bewilderment, reached for a glass, and when he looked up, Sonny was already in the air. βAn incomprehensible kind of conversation, apparently, purely for fun, decided to powder my brains. It will be possible in retaliation to spoil him in kamentah. "
A light breeze drove the yellowed leaves across the water. Max mentioned the persistent neighbor with a bad word who broke the subtle spiritual harmony with his conversations, but the lazy-relaxed mood did not return, an annoying headache came instead. βOkay,β he said a little more reverently, βafter all, itβs not difficult to make a little experience.β Max went up to the kitchen and poured water on the plate, found a glass, a piece of paper and a lighter. βWell, let's try, in childhood everything turned out perfectly β white smoke and water pushed into a glass by external pressure.β He waited until the piece of paper burns brightly in the glass and, turning it sharply, put it on the plate. For some fractions of a second, the picture seemed to stop, but Max could not resist - blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, white smoke was already filling the glass and the water rushed inside with a gurgle. "Hmm,can try something else: some chemical experience or water freeze. Yes, this is what is needed - a rather complex physical effect - instantaneous transformation of supercooled water into ice. So, the exact freezer and distilled water seems to be there. Although, on the other hand, if it does not work out, then who is to blame is insufficient water purity or its own curvature, and if it turns out that this proves it. Either that I am in the real world, or that the program knows the laws of physics and, if the coders were literate, then it is quite likely that she knows them better than me. She does not need to simulate the process itself, it is enough to know the final result. We need some really complicated experiment. But again, any measuring equipment in accordance with the program will show any necessary numbers. Damn, - Max in despair clutched his head,- so, too, nothing can be determined "
His torment was interrupted by the chatter of the screws that were sitting on the roof of the house flyer. βWell, also Masha somehow returned early, how to communicate with her nowβ?
Max entered the hall at the same time with his second half, they met at the column, mottled with ornate patterns, which served as a stand for crystal "Viking".
- How are you, Mash?
- Good.
- Why so early? Board of Trustees today does not sit?
βSit down, but I escaped.β You wanted to talk about something important.
- Is it?
- Yes, I still called in the morning.
βStrange,β thought Max, βsomething has become with my memory, but sheβs like Iβm eidetic, it seems to be. So what did I do yesterday at three in the afternoon? β He tried to remember, but instead of a clear, complete entry in his head, some scraps appeared that looked like a half-forgotten dream. From extreme mental effort, the head ached even more.
βHmm, and you don't want to go with me on a spacecraft on a twenty-year flight to the Alpha Centauri dual system,β Max asked head to head, wanting to check the suspicions that came to his head.
- Seriously? Interstellar flight? Great!I'm so glad.
Masha happily squealed and rushed to his wife around the neck. He carefully removed it from the neck.
- You probably did not understand a little. This flight is part of a large interstellar expedition. The ship will be ten thousand colonists, selected specifically for the development of a new star system. This is not an entertaining space tour of the satellites of Jupiter and Saturn. Anything can happen to us and we most likely will never return back, and our children and friends will stay here.
- Well, what can you do with everything. You always did it.
- You are painfully easy to agree to throw into complete obscurity.
- But, I will be with you. I'm not afraid of anything with you.
- You say something wrong.
- Why?
- As if specially saying what I want to hear.
Max looked at his spouse in a new way and she suddenly seemed a little stranger to him. Instead of a slightly plump, fair-haired and brown-eyed, ordinary girl, he was smiled by a thin, airy Martian with big black eyes, perfect in everything. βEven more strange: why does it seem to me that it should be different? We lived on Mars for twenty-five years. β
- Tell me about your day?
- Fine.
"And he answers all the time with monosyllabic phrases."
- And how was yours?
- Yes, too, fine.
- Do you feel bad?
- I feel like Pontius Pilate, my head is splitting. Do you remember how we rested on Titan the year before last? No, children, parents, only we are with you.
- Yes, it was great.
- And you donβt recall any details, except βgreatβ?
Max, with growing anxiety, discovered that he himself did not remember any details. But the migraine clearly increased.
βKotya, let's go do something more interesting,β Masha suggested playfully.
- Yes, I'm not in the mood. Have you ever thought about what is left in our world of the present? After all, everything that we see and hear for a long time forms the computer.
- What is the difference, the main thing is that we are real with you. Even if the world around is created only so that we were together. The stars and the moon are created only to decorate our evenings.
- Do you really think so?
- No, of course, I just decided to play along.
- Aaa ..., of course, - Max laughed with relief.
βNo, she is definitely not a neural network,β he thought and calmed down. Headache slowly receded.
- Does my cat bother something? - purred Masha, clinging to Max.
- Yes, Iβm tired of something, talking about the nature of everything.
- What nonsense, relax. And do what you want, you deserve it.
- Of course, deserved.
βTrue, some nonsense climb in my head, but all you need is to relax and get what you want,β thought Max. He obediently went to the side where he was being dragged, but accidentally stumbled upon a column with a crystal ship. A small female hand persistently pulled in one direction, but the good old Viking drew a foggy look with no less force, as if he wanted to say something very important with his appearance.
βI'm going now,β Max said, climbing the steps to his wife.
βSo what did you want to tell me, my good old friend? About the beautiful minutes spent together: just you, me and the airbrush. But these moments will remain in my heart forever. Suppose you are somehow inaccurate, clumsily made, but never again no work brought me such satisfaction. For several days I felt like a great engineer, a great master who created a masterpiece. It was so nice to know that life is short and art is forever. You want to say all this in the past. And my whole real life is meaningless because I have not done anything better than you. But indeed, when over the past twenty-five years I have been satisfied with what I am doing. No, it seems to be formal, everything is in order, but what exactly did I do and why am I glad, where is the real result of my efforts, with which I have to look into the eyes of infinity.Nothing but a crystal ship. Is the same I who controls me stencilly lovingly drawing your name many, many years ago? Or is there something else? Maybe you are hinting that you look too perfect. Yes, I remember every detail of yours, every spot, I remember all my blunders: and paint streaks in a couple of places due to the fact that too much solvent and cracks in the landing gear struts due to inaccurate separation from sprues. I remember one rack even had to be replaced by a homemade one. - With a sharp look, Max felt every square millimeter of the surface. - No, for some reason I can not see, everything is like a fog. We need to look closer. βyou look too perfect. Yes, I remember every detail of yours, every spot, I remember all my blunders: and paint streaks in a couple of places due to the fact that too much solvent and cracks in the landing gear struts due to inaccurate separation from sprues. I remember one rack even had to be replaced by a homemade one. - With a sharp look, Max felt every square millimeter of the surface. - No, for some reason I can not see, everything is like a fog. We need to look closer. βyou look too perfect. Yes, I remember every detail of yours, every spot, I remember all my blunders: and paint streaks in a couple of places due to the fact that too much solvent and cracks in the landing gear struts due to inaccurate separation from sprues. I remember one rack even had to be replaced by a homemade one. - With a sharp look, Max felt every square millimeter of the surface. - No, for some reason I can not see, everything is like a fog. We need to look closer. βfor some reason I can not see, everything is in a fog. We need to look closer. βfor some reason I can not see, everything is in a fog. We need to look closer. β
Max, with trembling hands, turned off the valve, waited until the excess pressure of the inert gas was gone, opened the transparent cover and carefully lifted the meter model. He had to make sure that it was his βVikingβ, had to touch his warm, rough surface with his own hand. The touch turned out to be alien and cold. It was extremely inconvenient to get the ship from the deep structure.
- Well, do not make me wait? A voice came from the stairs.
Max turned around awkwardly, forgetting that he was still holding the model in his hands, hooked her over the edge of the tank and could not hold it. As in slow motion, he saw a ship sailing from outstretched hands. βYou can still glue them together,β panicked thought flashed. There was a deafening chime and thousands of multicolored iridescent fragments scattered across the floor.
- What's happening? - Max whispered in shock.
- So, it was not for nothing that they ordered a new cyber cleaner. Do not tread here, dear.
- That's how my wishes come true. Give me back a real "Viking", he is not really a crystal! - Max shouted in the empty space.
βPerhaps there is no one to blame but myself. In the world of self-deception, the Viking has become a lifeless crystal monument to stupid dreams. Here is the simplest solution: in this ridiculous theater, I myself perform all the roles, and the reflection curves merely repeat my thoughts. Or maybe I donβt need any real world, - the devilish thought flashed, - the real world is not for everyone, it is only for the Martians. And this world favors everyone. After all, it has always been like this: the cruel reality and the world of good fairy tales. And the tales became more and more perfect over time, until they turned into a Martian dream. The Martian dream is also justified in its own way, it eliminates suffering, compels us to reconcile with inequality and injustice of a cruel reality. β
Max took a step forward and the shipβs fragments snapped clearly beneath their feet.
"But this does not apply to me, I am not a rag, I never believed fairy tales."
- Hey Sonny! Where are you, I changed my mind, I want to be free?
Max ran out of the house, his head was now falling apart, and the surrounding reality melted like hot wax.
A figure in a dark robe appeared from a bizarrely distorted space. Two piercing blue fanatical fires burned in the inky darkness of a deep hood.
- Finally, the leader, I did not go anywhere, I knew that this was just a test. No more trials, I will always be faithful to the cause of the revolution, even if only two of us remain on our side.
- Sonny, stop talking nonsense. What a leader I am, what a revolution! Get me out of here.
- I can not, I am nothing more than a conductor in the world of shadows.
Max, ignoring the tormenting pain, tried to thoroughly recall his conversation with the manager of DreamLand, allegedly taking place twenty-five years ago. The surrounding space cracked, but so far survived.
βBe careful, your awakening will be discovered soon.β
- I need to get out of here and as soon as possible.
- Why did you come here?
- By mistake, why else?
- By mistake? You should have restarted the system. Say your part of the key.
βWhat other key?β
- The permanent part of the key you need to know. The second, variable part, the keeper of keys must say, it will restart the system and you will again become the master of the shadows.
- Listen, Sonny, you obviously confuse me with someone, I do not understand what I mean. What are the keys, what is the keeper?
- You do not know the key?
- Of course not.
βBut the system cannot be wrong; it clearly points to you.β
- So it can. Or, suddenly I forgot the key, it happens the same.
- You could not forget it. You could free yourself from the shackles of a false world. So your mind is pure and able to find true freedom. Remember ...
The surrounding valley, city, sky, artificial suns merged into some kind of indistinguishable mess, and Max seemed to himself a shapeless amoeba, floating in the primary digital broth. An alarming red window hung in front of the inflamed consciousness: "Emergency reboot, please keep calm."
βSonny, can you say anything useful until you have rebooted me?β
βYou must remember your part of the key and find the keeper.β
- And where to find him?
βI don't know, but he is definitely not in the world of shadows.β If you remember your key, you can control the remaining shadows.
- I met in the one, the real life of one person, whose name is Philip Kochura. He told me that he had seen a shadow and was a courier for sending an important message.
- Maybe. Find him again.
- Sonny, tell me what kind of message he was supposed to convey?
- I don't have it. I'm just a system interface, after an emergency shutdown, all information has been erased.
As if from afar came a low distorted voice:
- In a safe place, in the absence of extraneous ears, say the key so that the courier understands every word. Find the keeper of keys ... Come back, start the system, return true freedom to people ... - the voice went into an indistinguishable whisper and finally died away.
Max went to the window, it swung open, and a stream of sunlight poured onto his fragile figure. The fragrance of the eternal summer of a green valley, safely sheltered by a power dome and additionally illuminated by a solar reflector in a stationary orbit all year round, breathed.
"What's again? Enough! βMax burst out, opened his eyes, and hid like a tangled fish in nets of oxygen masks and feeding tubes inside Biovanna. The face, then the torso gradually protruded from the fluid slowly flowing down. Immediately the weight hit. Lying on a slippery metal surface was unpleasant. The harsh light splashed from the flip-up cover blinded his eyes and Max tried to block his hand awkwardly.
- Your service has expired. Welcome to the real world, - said the melodious voice of the machine.
βRelease me immediately,β Max shouted, and crawled out of the bath, slipping and disassembling nothing in front of him.
- What are you waiting for? Give an injection right now, - said another, dry female voice.
Steel paws of orderlies tightly squeezed Max, there was a hiss along with a sharp pain in his shoulder. Almost immediately the body became wadded, and the eyelids were filled with heaviness. The same steel legs removed the already moving Max from the bath and gently placed him in a wheelchair. From somewhere came a thin towel, then an old, worn out robe and a mug of cheap, instant coffee. Nearby, with tightly pressed lips and hands behind her back, stood Dr. Eva Schulz. It was written on the badge. She was thin and straight like a mop. On her elongated, yellowish face was written as much sympathy for the patient as on the face of a scientist dissecting frogs.
βListen, your working methods leave much to be desired,β Max began, hardly moving his lips.
- How do you feel? - instead of answering, Eva Schulz asked.
βAll right,β Max reluctantly replied.
Eva seemed to be a little disappointed with the answer, in particular that she no longer needed to knit and prick.
- So, my mission is over. Auf Wiedersehen. - The doctor said goodbye in a tone that does not tolerate objections.
Slightly taken aback by such treatment and still not recovering after awakening and drugs, Max was simply pushed onto the street, like a plucked chicken. His further fate Dreamland company now absolutely did not care.
Sitting down on the steps in front of the building, swallowing ice-cold mineral water, Max felt that he had been deceived, brazenly and cruelly, a little not as Ruslan had predicted, but still very unpleasant. And of course, he was tormented by the mystery of who Sonny Dimon was and why he read him to the position of a certain βmaster of the shadows.β Was it just the fruit of an inflamed consciousness or was the ghostly neighbor really there? βHmm, however, this expression in this context is also not entirely appropriate,β thought Max. - Yes, but the world of shadows is probably correct. After death, all pagans enter the world of shadows, where they spend time in eternal feasts and hunting, or in eternal wanderings. Perhaps there is only one way to test Sonnyβs βmaterialityβ: try to find a courier ... β
Next to Max, another citizen flopped onto the step, with a displeased wry grin.
- Also visited the Martian dream? - the citizen seems thirsty for communication.
- What is noticeable?
- Well, you look not too pleased.
- Actually, in theory, I should have a contented look: my cherished dream came true, can you imagine?
- I imagine I have the same story.
Max drank the water and threw the empty bottle up in impotent rage, but it didnβt even reach the glass doors from which he had just been thrown out.
- Nasty divorce.
Comrade Max nodded in misfortune.
βAll the evil in the world is from the Martians,β he added thoughtfully.
- From the Martians? Is it?Rather, all evil comes from us: instead of fighting these cybernetic freaks, with our laziness and primitive instincts, we imitate them in every way, without hesitation, stuff our brains with all the crap developed by them, and live in the world of phantoms created by them. We are a miserable flock of sheep, buried muzzles in their digital feeders, full of digital mud, which is completely satisfied with such a life. We can only bleat plaintively when they start to cut us!
Max, with an expression of deep repentance and contempt for his own sheep-like look on his face, collapsed onto the step.
βIt was great to you,β said the citizen sympathetically, βMy name is Lenya.β
- Max, we will be familiar.
- Max, have you ever thought about starting a fight against the Martians, really, not in words?
- The romance of the revolutionary struggle and all that, right? Fairy tales are the same as the Martian dream. Neurotec Corporation can be won only by a more powerful corporation.
- Imagine that I have access to people from such a corporation. And these people are as irreconcilable opponents of the existing order of things as you are.
βAnd they think the Martians can be defeated.β
- Well, until you try, you do not know.
So Max joined the organization Quadius and devoted his life to the struggle for the independence of the Solar System.
Having banished from thoughts all admiration for the Martians, generated by their incredible achievements in the field of information technology, Max felt much more confident. What previously seemed to him attractive and beautiful, suddenly clearly appeared before him in all its disgusting essence. Max persistently and intently studied the wisdom of illegal work. At first, he, of course, felt great about the apparent total control of the Martians over all spheres of life of ordinary people and started at night, imagining that he was already followed by "security officers" from Neurotek. And the always open wireless ports on the chip, and the ability of the chip to automatically notify the appropriate services about violations, and dust-sized detectors that penetrate any unpressurized room, frightened the faint-hearted revolutionary. However, over time, it became apparentthat neural networks of monitoring services are able to recognize only those actions for which they are trained, and no one will waste staff time analyzing the records of some unknown small bipod. The trick was not to attract too much attention. Of course, if you do not hesitate to crack the closed axis of the chip and install yourself a couple of programs that are not registered anywhere, then unpleasant issues cannot be avoided. Here it was necessary to show more flexibility. Max was dragged down by illegal surgery. At first, the legal neurochip was carefully untied from the owner's nervous system and placed on an intermediate matrix, which, if necessary, fed the prepared mischief to the chip. Then, an additional chip was implanted, which is connected to encrypted communication channels and packed full of forbidden "hacker" lotions.Max himself was amazed where he had come from so much courage and devotion to the ideas of the revolution, because his first illegal steps in the network were often careless and extremely dangerous. Again, an open operating system on a chip required the strictest self-discipline, one mistake could ruin the device, combined with the nervous system. But, gradually, Max learned to cover digital traces of his activities and thoroughly check the codes of installed programs. So he felt like a real revolutionary without fear and reproach.gradually, Max learned to cover up the digital traces of his activity and thoroughly check the codes of the installed programs. So he felt like a real revolutionary without fear and reproach.gradually, Max learned to cover up the digital traces of his activity and thoroughly check the codes of the installed programs. So he felt like a real revolutionary without fear and reproach.
This pleasant feeling raised tangibly to Max over a faceless crowd, always tightly squeezed by the framework of legal software, total external control and copyright. He spat on draconian restrictions and prohibitions, saw the richest vip-users without a mask of cosmetic programs and squandered the stolen money from other people's wallets.
After productive activity as a private quad, Max was entrusted with the position of regional curator. Now he himself has encrypted and laid out tasks for numerous followers on social networks and coordinated their attacks on corporate sites. Thanks to his accurate insider information from numerous agents, the organizationβs emissaries managed to defend Titanβs independence. So the organization has a reliable base. It was necessary to develop success. The next ambitious goal was the rebirth of the Russian state. Max left Telecom a long time ago and, as a cover, the organizationβs money contained a big business of delivering natural delicacies to Mars. Needless to say, the old transport ships were driven not only by delicacies. Max began to manage other people's lives as easily as choosing a melody on the alarm clock.The resulting power at first slightly circled his head, and then began to be taken for granted. He also placed Masha and his mother far away in the German outback and tried to devote less to their own dark affairs.
Max went to the elevator door, she swung open, and the light of the fluorescent lamps spattered on his figure, chained into a light armored suitcase, followed by the powerful hum of many working mechanisms. The INKIS cosmodromeβs long underground warehouse stretched as far as the eye could see. Max, gently tacking between scooping loaders, proceeded to his terminal. His gray spacesuit with sewn Kevlar plates and huge, like a dragonfly, dull-yellow review lenses, recessed inside a heavy helmet, attracted the attention of a few staff. True, the maximum of which he was honored was a short glance of frown, the working people were not inclined to ask unnecessary questions. Moreover, Max's hand reflexively stretched to a disguised holster to check whether the weapon was in place. βI did change a lot,β he stated.- the way back to the world of universal virtual prosperity is now ordered to me. However, what I forgot in this digital garbage dump: thoroughly deceitful and intoxicating. All ways are open to me, if, of course, the fatum is favorable to our struggle for Russia. We must win. No, I have to win, at all costs, because everything is at stake. I really do not want the rest of my life nykatsya from Martian bloodhounds in the barracks of the delta zone. "
At its terminal, life was in full swing. Chains of army plastic boxes disappeared into the womb of the space transport. Max threw off a heavy helmet and climbed onto one of the boxes. βOur time has come,β he thought, intently watching the loading. - The revolution fighters will have enough ammunition to take conditional mail and telegraph. And I need to have time to roll up the fishing rods before the start of the mess, too many strings lead to a modest merchant. β
Lenya ran in a similar armored suitcase.
- Everything is okay? - for the order inquired Max.
- Well, in general, yes. However, there is a small not that problem ... Rather, it can be described by the word incomprehensible situation ...
- You throw these long introductions, - Max snapped. - What happened?
βYes, thatβs just ten minutes ago, right here, a homeless guy showed up and said that he knows you and he needs to talk to you urgently.β
- What about you?
- I said I did not understand who it was about. But he did not leave, but instead, the infection, explained exactly who you were, why you should come here, and even said what time it was. Amazing awareness.
- And more.
- I still wanted to fight for the revolution to the last drop of blood. That in his youth he had made many mistakes, but now he repents and is ready to redeem everything. Like, his old friends said where to find you. But, you understand, random people do not come to us, but this one himself came, none of ours brought him.
- Understand. I hope you made a puzzled physiognomy and sent this don quixote back home?
βUh-uh ..., actually, my guys detained him.β Until clarification, so to speak.
- What are you diligent, just great, - Max shook his head. - Probably, he is still not an agent of Neurotech or the Consultative Council, otherwise we would have already lay face to face.
βWe turned the jammer on and put a cap on his head.β
- Great, now we definitely have nothing to fear. However, if they give us a chance to take off, then it will no longer matter. Come on, it's time to finish loading and push off.
- Not everything was loaded, there are still generators, all equipment ...
- Forget it, we have to go .
- And with this "agent" what to do? Maybe you look at him?
- Here's another. So that he somehow breathed his sarin or blown up the fuck. By the way, did you check it, searched it?
- Searched, nothing. Scanning was not performed.
- Relaxed, look. Okay, on the way we decide what to do with it, in the end, it's never too late to throw it into space.
Max contacted the pilots and ordered to start preparations for the launch, and he quickly went to the passenger lock. Workers ran around at double speed.
βAh, yes, this guy said that his name is Philip Kochura, if that name tells you something.β
- What?- Max was taken aback. - Why didn't you say it right away?
- You did not ask.
- Quickly, lead me to him.
- So we take off, or not? - asked Lenya already on the run.
- We take off, as soon as we get permission.
They ran into the cargo hold. In the nearest narrow impasse, between tall rows of identical boxes, lay a chained man. Max pulled off his metallized fabric cap.
Phil seemed completely unchanged. He was wearing the same torn jeans and jacket. It even seemed that his wrinkled face had the same degree of unshaven face as when he first met, and dirty stains on his clothes were located in the same places.
- Max, finally, I found you. You have no idea what I should have found you. I have important information that can help the cause of the revolution.
- Speak.
- She's not for prying ears.
- Lenya, wait near the exit.
βYou yourself just said it was dangerous.β It doesn't matter what he looks like ... - Lenya started offended.
- Do not argue, but do not go far.
Max pointedly pulled a pistol from its holster and pulled it off the safety catch. Lenya knocked down, throwing the last suspicious glance toward the prisoner.
βRelease me,β Phil asked.
- First, post your important information.
βWell, the information is still inside of me, say the key.β
- I dont knowβ¦
An atomic bomb exploded in Maxβs head.
- The one who opened the door sees the world as infinite. The one who opened the door, sees the endless worlds.
He squeezed his mouth, completely dumbfounded by what he said.
- This is part of the key, it is enough to access information, but you have to remember everything.
- Wait a minute ... Well, I donβt even ask how you found me, but how do you know about the key?
- I have friends in Dreamland, I thoroughly studied your notes and understood: you are the one who can save the revolution.
- I see you friends everywhere. Very unconvincing, why did you even start looking for records about me in the Martian dream? And what, they are there for years, these records are stored or what?
βSo a familiar admin ... accidentally stumbled upon ... And by the way, it doesn't matter," Phil cut himself off, seeing that the legend was bursting at the seams. - You would not hurt with the same healthy skepticism to relate to everything that happens. And then spread the world fire revolution.
Phil got up easily, dropping the handcuffs to the floor. Max instantly walked back down the aisle, pointing his gun at the miraculously freed prisoner.
- Stand still. Lyonya, come here quickly.
βI stand, I stand,β Phil raised his hands and smiled. - I think your Lyonya will not hear.
- What's happening?
- At first, I was sure that this was a tricky test, but now I see: you really do not understand what is happening. I guess you tried to create a new identity for yourself and slightly overdid it.
Phil threw a deep hood and two piercing blue lights lit in his darkness.
- Sorry, but your ideas about the revolution are a bit outdated, about two hundred years. Think whether what you see is real?
- Just do not. Our enemies are just under the force of such a focus. Do you think I believed that I was still in the Martian dream, and you are Sonny Dimon?
- It's easy to check.
- Sure.
Max did not look for signs of fear on Sonny-Fil's face, such as a drop of sweat running down his temple, especially since the otherworldly view of the enemy left no room for such nonsense, but simply and without effort pressed the trigger. A line of thin tungsten needles, dispersed by an electromagnetic field, pierced the figure through and melted a deep mark on the wall opposite.
- Well, what was convinced? - as if nothing had happened, the shadow asked.
- made sure.
Max tiredly leaned against the wall of the boxes, firing the gun from his suddenly weak hands.
- But how do they do it? After all, everything looks for real, you can cut your finger and feel the pain. After all ... I had an old neurochip. Why are there fingers, how do computer programs manage to talk in such a way that they cannot be distinguished from people? And you?Where did you come from, so omniscient and omnipresent?
- All questions you can find the answers yourself.
βYou act like a typical Oriental soothsayer with a beard to the navel and useless advice in the form of obvious platitudes.β
- Remember, Max, there are such questions, the answers to which, even the most correct and best, but received from the mouth of others, do more harm than good. And remember, there are no secrets in the world, any really important information is available to you at any time. The system can answer any question, but it is better not to ask important questions. The information received in the form of ready-made instructions each time will narrow for you the space of free choice and, eventually, you will turn into a shadow from the master of shadows.
- Well, thanks, now everything is clear.
Sonny raised his weapon from the floor.
- And now, it's time to leave the world of shadows and part with some illusions.
- With what exactly? Too much of them fell down lately.
- Well, for example, with the illusion that you have no illusions. In fact, you are as weak as most people, and the power of the Martian phantoms over you is enormous. Make sure.
The turn of tungsten needles shredded Max's foot. For the first instant, they only stared at the bloody stump in bewilderment, and then with a heavy moan fell on its side.
- No, why? - through clenched teeth, hoarse Max.
- Do not be afraid, in fact, because there is no pain.
Sonny next shot out the other leg.
βThere is ... please ...β
βIt may seem like a tough world to you,β Sonny Dimon continued to broadcast over howling Max. - But you suffer for a reason, it will help you open the door to the future.
The world swam around in a reddish fog, Max felt that he was losing consciousness.
- Come back when you're ready. Shadows will show you the way.
The last frame with the needle flying out of the accelerator hung before his eyes, blinked a couple of times, changed to a blue screen with running numbers and went out.
Pleasant relaxation by the waves rolled over the body. Through an absolutely transparent wall on the right, one could admire a large clear lake at the foot of the mountains. The cold wind from the peaks drove small ripples across the lake and soothingly rustled in the reeds. A light-beige, softly glowing ceiling rocked smoothly overhead. No, itβs me swinging myself, thought Max. - What a strange feeling: as if I have a very small head, and my body is strange and huge. About ten meters to the right hand, not less, but to the feet ... Oh dear, legs β! Max screamed and sat up on the bed, pulling the blanket to the floor. Bare feet peeking out of the hospital gown. Max moved his fingers in relief. "So it was just a bad dream." In a cold sweat, he sank back onto his bed. The pounding heart was gradually calming down.
Someone hastily entered the room. Over Max bent the plump face of Dr. Otto Schultz. It was written on the badge. Otto Schulz outwardly looked like a completely good-natured, slightly plump from beer and sausages, a decent burgher. But his glance, tenacious and collected, not at all swum in fat, reminded that this is nothing more than a disguise, and if the new millennial Reich orders, the family black uniform with runes will have to fit the doctor.
- Your neurochip booted?
- Well, if you do not know Russian, then apparently the translator is already working.
- No, unfortunately I do not know. How does my patient feel? - the doctor inquired attentively.
βFine,β Max yawned, pleasant drowsiness rolling again. - Except that I am completely confused about what is real and what is not.
- You yourself wanted it.
- I wanted? I did not want to go crazy.
- Do not worry, our programs are repeatedly tested, they can not harm the client's psyche. And the side effects will pass in a few days.
βI donβt worry, itβs better that you start worrying about how to get my money back for an improperly rendered service as quickly as possible,β Max tried to go on the offensive.
It turned out not too confidently and not at all aggressively, apparently due to the fact that he continued to yawn full-length. At least, the doctor only kindly laughed:
- I see you finally came to your senses.
βComrade Schultz, let's better discuss the financial issue,β suggested Max.
- You do not have to worry, as far as I know, the service "well of desires" was fully paid. You transferred four creeps and two hundred Zits at once, and four creeps were taken on credit for half a year.
- In a loan for six months? - Max repeated in shock. - I could not sign this.
βHow can she explain to Masha that she will not be able to fly to me in the next couple of months, at least?β - from the prospect of such explanations, Max was ready to fall through the earth with shame right now.
- Complete records of negotiations with representatives of the company sent to your mail. The contract is confirmed by your signature, you can check with the database even now.
βI couldnβt sign such a thing,β Max repeated stubbornly, βIt was the same me who is sitting in front of you now.β
- Sorry, I am not authorized to discuss such issues, better contact your manager.
- Well, but you will not deny that the service ordered and paid for by me is not fulfilled.
βWe honestly did everything we could,β the doctor said with a shrug. - We launched the program again, although under the terms of the contract we could not do this. Improvised literally on the go.
- As if I did not have to do a lobotomy after your improvisations.
βI assure you, everything is normal with your psyche,β Otto reassured, apparently, according to the methods of the Ministry of Propaganda, hoping that the repeated lie would fall for the truth. - Yes, for some reason, you have an individual incompatibility with the standard program. This happens if all necessary diagnostics are not carried out before the dive. But you yourself wanted an urgent order, so you took the risk.
- Want to say it in me? It will not work, Mr. Schulz, this is your program is not working properly. I was constantly helped to make sure that there was an illusion around. I myself would have guessed nothing.
- Helped how?
- Both times a certain bot came to me and practically said in plain text that I was in a fantasy world. And then another shot me a couple of extra parts. I'm not saying that you specifically did this, but maybe your software is infected with viruses, or something like that?
- In the Martian dream can not be viruses, it is not connected to external networks.
- Someone could infect you from the inside.
βExcluded,β the doctor pursed his lips.
- Well, look at the logs. See for yourself.
- Maxim, sorry, but I am a medical man, not a programmer. If you are so convinced, then write a complaint, we will consider it, examine our files in detail. We will carry out an additional examination of your memory ...
- Today I will write, - Max promised coldly.
β... And, of course, we will inform your insurance company and employer about what happened,β Otto finished no less politely.
- There is nothing illegal in the Martian dream.
- Of course not. And officially, no one can impose any sanctions on you ...
βBut in practice they will look at me as a potential addict. Farewell to the career and hello insurance in sharashkina office at double the price - Max mentally continued. - It looks like I'm seriously in trouble, and only by my own stupidity. No, really, is it really the same I, being in a sober mind and solid memory, a few days ago thoughtlessly signed everything and paid. Even the memories of this regrettable moment lost. I wish to look into the eyes of myself now. β
- Listen, Maxim, it is better to address the claims to your personal manager, Alexei Gorin. He will come soon and will try to resolve all disagreements.
- What a relief. And your program somehow strangely read my memory. If during the first launch my model of a spacecraft had not broken like a glass, I would have guessed nothing either.
- I do not quite understand, please explain.
- In childhood I was fond of modeling. My favorite product is a large model of the Viking spacecraft on a scale of 1:80. One of the first Russian ships built at the dawn of the Solar System. So, in the dive, she was also present, and when I dropped her, she broke, as if she were made of glass. So I realized that the world around is not real.
Otto Schulz pulled back a few seconds.
- Modeling is a rare hobby in the modern world. I myself, frankly, used the search to understand what it was about.
- So what?
- Let me explain to you a little how the well of desires works. Unfortunately, these explanations have also been erased from your memory. This service should show your potential future: what you can achieve, based on the results of memory and personality scans. That is, this is not some abstract dream about anything. It is really feasible, if the client in the future makes every effort to achieve it in the real world. On the one hand, it helps a person to understand what to strive for. This is not so easy to understand: what is your most talented. And, on the other hand, a person who has seen the end result of his efforts receives additional motivation. This is the beauty of this service, it is not some kind of entertainment. The service is relatively new, and not everything, of course, works perfectly. I'm not an expert, but you see, a neural network that scans memory,recognizes only those classes of objects that are embedded in it. When she meets a principled new situation, she can easily be mistaken. Well, very roughly speaking, can confuse a leopard fur coat with a leopard.
- I understand what you want to say. But there are too many bugs in your software: both recognition errors and some strange bots ...
- Again, understand, program characters adaptively adapt to your actions and your conscious and subconscious images. Normally, they work with negative feedback: that is, the program will take you away from the awareness of the unreality of what is happening. But, in a non-standard situation, if the program has incorrectly recognized what is happening, the connection can become positive and it will seem that the bots are specifically breaking up the dive.
βThis is all fine, of course, but where did the strange conversations about keys, shadows, etc. come from?β This is definitely not from Dreamland software. How can I check out what Sonny Dimon is. I hardly allow anyone to delve into the logs or sources. Maybe you should not even draw attention to this? Yes, what about creeps? Or when I become the lord of the shadows, then I will not care for money. Ha.Maybe itβs still another stupid dream - to be elected. A disguised dream about which, under the terms of the top-level contract, I was not told. And am I still in the dream? No, so sure the roof will move out! β - irritably broke himself Max.
- It turns out that I am so non-standard and myself to blame for everything? Or maybe my old chip is to blame?
- Your neyrochip us a little worried. He is basically not capable of this. As an interface, we use combinations of short-lived m-chips. Previously, we implanted our own neurochips, but the new technology has obvious advantages. Although, frankly, it is not the end polished. Cases like yours are rare enough, but not yet unique. Come in a couple of years, I'm sure this will not happen again. Sorry, you wanted an urgent order: many tests were missed, so we are not liable under the contract. The manager, believe me, will tell you the same thing.
- I'll talk to him myself.
- Of course, you have every right. And under the terms of the contract, I am obliged to remind you that it is now December 4, at 8.30 in the morning and, according to your schedule, you should be at work at 14.00.
- I still have to go to work today?
- You yourself have planned this way.
- Well, tryndets ...
- Sorry, Maxim, but if you do not have complaints on the medical side, I have to leave.
- Wait, and so, for the sake of interest, Eva Schultz - is it your wife?
- No, this is a fictional character. Joke may not be entirely successful.
- You are not married?
- No, and I do not plan yet. You know, I prefer relationships exclusively in social networks. They have many advantages compared to real ones.
βUh-uh ... but there may be many advantages, but what, excuse me, are you feeling?β
- You saw the possibilities of modern chips. Believe me, the sensations are almost indistinguishable from the real ones. By sensation, you mean sexual contact, I guess? I am sure that real contacts will finally be a thing of the past. This is dirty, unsafe and uncomfortable in principle.
- M-yes, probably ...
- Well, it was nice to meet you, Maxim.
- Mutually. Good luck.
βItβs interesting how Masha will react to such supporters of Martian values?β Or on the proposal to join these values? I'm afraid Iβll have to hang out on social networks myself, where no one will ever reveal the truth about himself, βthought Max.
He tried to arrange a scandal, demanded to return the money paid and provide logs of stay in the Martian dream, but his arguments lacked convincingness due to confusion and memory lapses. The manager, Aleksey Gorin, on the contrary, was extremely convincing and legally prepared. He immediately showed the dissatisfied client a record of his talks with representatives of DreamLand, a βsmartβ contract with Maxβs digital signature, and refused to give logs, citing the law on commercial secrets. As well as refused to return the money, pointing to the footnotes in small print to the terms of the contract, where it was fixed that because of the urgency of the order, the company is not responsible for possible failures in the program. Max also blamed on the law on consumer protection and on the fact that such footnotes clearly contradict him. However,he was not sure of this, because the Martian laws, constantly corrected and supplemented in the interests of corporations and lawyers, evolved in the direction of completely impassable casuistry. Moreover, in theory, the contract is contrary to law, could not be approved by an electronic notary. In theory, the neural network can not be fooled, but in practice, corporate lawyers are always aware of which classes of objects they are not yet trained to recognize.
He sat down on the steps in front of the building, swallowing the icy mineral water, Max experienced a keen sense of dΓ©jΓ vu. βA dream that you see in a dream, which is part of another dream. - Max was experiencing a deep existential crisis. βAnd why did I let any dubious businessmen dig in my head?β This is my only head, no one will give me a spare. He also gave almost two monthly income for such a dubious pleasure. Well, is not it an idiot?
Like Bolkonsky, Max looked up to realize the whole vanity of life compared to the beautiful, endless sky. But there was no one to pour out the grief; the yellow-red arch of the cave hung over it. Thus, an unpleasant, sucking fear of a ruthless hand that would pull him out, naked and helpless, settled in his soul forever, utter from a biovanna and on duty in a polite voice: βYour service time has expired, welcome to the real world.β
Max decided that all his troubles and problems come from the initial depravity of human nature. This nature, with all its congenital vices, will, like the devil, tempt the mind again and again, and the more perfect the mind becomes, the more refined the tempter becomes in its methods. And to win this fight can not be, it lasts forever.
Unfortunately, it happened that in a duel between the voice of cold reason and foolish desires, foolish desires won a decisive victory. No matter how hard Max tried, year after year, by the habit of driving his demons deeper inside, it was all in vain. Sometimes, plunging headlong into the cycle of daily minor problems at work and at home, he did not hear their voice at all and proudly thought that he had won the final victory. The demons did not forgive him of this pride. It was necessary only to stop running for a while and be left alone with himself, as they easily broke free and forced to capitulate the one who considered himself the master of his destiny. Yes, Max was weak and not ready to go, falling and rising again and again, through the thorns to distant stars. As it turned out, it is easier for him to pay and believe in any mirage that promises everything here and now.And how I would like to have a perfect mind impassive and unmistakable, like a car. Not that lazy, mortal lump of gray matter, doomed to forever fight the innate ailments of the physical shell. A pure mind, free from everything and immediately doing only what is right and necessary, without curved paths and stupid throwing between Scylla and Charybdis. Sitting on the steps and swallowing icy mineral water, Max vowed that he would sacrifice anything to get such an intelligence.Sitting on the steps and swallowing icy mineral water, Max vowed that he would sacrifice anything to get such an intelligence.Sitting on the steps and swallowing icy mineral water, Max vowed that he would sacrifice anything to get such an intelligence.
3.
.
Mind. All the evils of human beings are from the mind. But there are creatures and more shrewd. The mind does not interfere with them, it turns on only if necessary, and then it goes out easily too, so as not to interfere with quietly enjoying food, games and minor dirty tricks. If it were not for these dreams, he would not have woken up at all. To get rid of annoying dreams, you have to endure this always dissatisfied and terribly expensive mind. It is good that he himself already has an understanding of his own inferiority, so he will not be disturbed beyond necessity. But now you have to listen to him.
Yes, the man-from-dreams obviously does not know how to use his mind for its intended purpose, otherwise he would not fall into such scrape. But the new owner is much better. Her mind is turned on only for solving purely practical tasks and when all possibilities have been exhausted to shift these tasks to other males. Arseny, the hostess, identified as Lenochka, immediately liked, so to speak, from the first trial run of the claws in her delicate soft roundness. Emotional background is very pleasant, consisting of simple natural desires, not like a restless mind and barely restrained aggression of a person from dreams. While the man-from-dreams was rubbing how to care for his alleged pet, which he had to leave due to a difficult life situation, Arseny had already managed to make a couple of standard visits to establish control. A slight rumbling, playing blows with a soft paw, several olfactory marks - the contact was established almost immediately. Five minutes later, she didnβt call him anything other than Musica or Mr. Fluffy, which inspired obvious optimism about the limits of what was permitted. True, the male Lenochka turned out to be as terrible as Lenochka herself as a host. Even worse than man-from-dreams in terms of conflict potential. No wonder they found each other. Arseny could not make any contact with him, let alone control. In addition to the obvious threat emanating from the male, nothing more was read in the emotional background, as if this emotional background was not at all. Namely, the male was the source of human-from-dreams problems. No other approaches to him, except through Lenochka, were visible, and in the pair, unfortunately, the male clearly dominated, and to quickly change this state of affairs was not possible. Well, at least he did not perceive Arseny as a threat, the man-from-dreams convinced Lena to say that the new pet was imposed on her by a girlfriend. If the innocent dirty trick, like a slightly torn armchair, which the standard owner had never considered to be a dirty trick, the male promised to crank it through a meat grinder, then it would be terrible to think what punishment would have fallen upon Arsenyβs head if they knew about his relationship with the person - from-dreams. And the persuasion of the bearer, with tears in her eyes, did not save Senya from the unpleasant pulling of the scruff, which was a very bad sign.
Oh, how great it would be to forget all these dreams and make the hostess find a male easier. After a couple of months of treatment, ordinary people would have become like silk, and Senya would not have known grief until the end of his days. Yes, the life of a fluffy parasite is optimal from the point of view of the relation of energy costs to the pleasure obtained. But you have to work with what is. Of course, he immediately began to allocate pheromones to increase the sexual arousal of the mistress, but just in case. There was little hope that this method would be possible to enter the control of the male. He did not dare to influence the male himself, the animal's instinct suggested that the slightest doubt in his natural origin would end sadly. In general, the mind argued that a direct call is absolutely safe, subject to the procedure. No one person is able to recognize his tricks if he is not looking for them directly, but Arseny chose to trust his instincts.
The primary task was to get into the office of the male, where he spent all the meetings and stored important data. Unfortunately, he always closed it from the inside or outside, while Lenochka had access to the office only as a service staff. Senya, of course, rubbed around her and then tried to hide unnoticed between the table and the battery, but he was thrown out without sentiment with the most natural kick in the ass.
In truth, at first he was not particularly worried. Sooner or later, simply according to the law of probability, he would be able to get into the office, and there already is a matter of technology. He easily spied the admin passwords from the home network and, accordingly, could turn off hidden cameras or view password-protected data from laptops, for example, Lenochka's extremely valuable selfie after a shower. But nothing, in this matter gradualness equals security. That's only after today's sleep, everything is sharply complicated. And the day began beautifully: from a trip to a manicure, where Arseny, as usual, delighted all the glamorous girlfriends. Then he settled down comfortably on the belly of the hostess, who was leafing through a silly female saytik. And after all, nothing foreshadowed this disgusting vision.
A second ago, his mind was in the warmth and comfort of a luxury penthouse in Krasnogorsk, and now you have to contemplate the completely uncomfortable ruins of the east. Here is the bridge over the Yauza. Yauza itself has long been turned into a nasty smelly streamlet, barely visible under the piles of various garbage. Passed the building Baumanki. The university was already ten years on its last legs, but the buildings were still maintained in a more or less normal condition. The man began to climb further along Hospital Street, when he suddenly crossed with a huge guy who had turned out of the gateway. And the guy, instead of going his own way, addressed the question, after which often there is a serious adjustment of plans for the next evening.
- Bro, and no smoke? - the guy's voice resembled a nail rattle on the glass.
The guy was really hefty, but he was wiry and agile. Aggressive-punk look: unshaven, in a faded black T-shirt and jeans, heavy boots with high berets, with evil eyes and stiff disheveled hair. His hands and wrists, peeking out of his jacket, were covered with blue-green tattoos depicting either a cobweb or a barbed wire, with infernal creatures entangled in it. The dark, flat face expressed no emotion. Of the special marks, there was still a scar going down through the eyebrow.
Yes, we must give him his due, the man did not make himself a hero, but wisely pulled back. Sorry, not far away. The door of the minivan, standing on the side of the road, suddenly drove off to the side, two bogey in masks immediately twisted and dragged the person inside. The big man climbed in and slammed the door.
- Hey, athlete, che, a lot of health? Twitch stop.
βHey, stop breaking my hands, I wonβt jerk,β the man said hoarsely.
- Vova, in kind, handcuff him.
- Who are you?
βI'm Tom, and these are my friends,β the punk guy grinned.
- American or something?
- No, the call is such.
βObviously, otherwise Iβm not very American.β My name is Denis, nice to meet you.
- Stop playing the fool. Our boss, you know him perfectly well, to you an assignment.
- I don't know anyone, you confused me with someone.
- I can refresh my memory, only in your best interest once again not to strain me. In short, I put in my pocket the cell number and code, you will find there a card with keys for fifty thousand eurocoins, for pocket expenses. Call your friend from Telekom, Max, you say that you need to meet. Designate a place where you can quietly pick it up and pick it up. Then immediately call me and tell me who I will tell. You buy the tools yourself, you have connections. If you are tempted to deal with you, say that you are from Tom. Just look, the client is needed safe and sound. How specifically to execute, think for yourself, but if you lighten up or fail, we will merge you, Iβm not going to blame me.
- No, are you kidding or what? As I do not blink, he has the same chip that writes everything for the telecom Security Council. I will not do anything, bring me down right away. Do you think I'm an idiot, like you will keep me alive after this?
- Do not ssy, my friend, no one will touch you if you do everything clean. Our godfather does not give up useful people. On the contrary, you will receive another poltos for the work and new documents. How to contact, so that no one knows where and why the client is going, think for yourself. Time we give you a week, so do not slow down. So that you do not baragozil, we will make a hammer.
Denis felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder.
βYou now have several million nanorobots in your blood, and by their signal we can always find you.β After seven days, the robots will launch a deadly poison. Do not look for the antidote, the poison is unique. Be careful with the screening, if the connection is not more than two hours, the poison will go automatically. If you try to get rid of them, the poison will also go automatically.
- Hey, asshole, let the poison at once, what you are spinning here is complete bullshit. Anyway, I'm not a tenant.
- Stop breaking. We are talking in a good way with you, but we can and in a bad way. What happened to Jan, more flowers compared to what awaits you. You will agree to everything, even chop up your own mother into pieces, only before that you suffer a little. Pakhan promised that he would cover you, which means he would cover you, he keeps his word.
βLet Arumov personally promise me this,β Denis asked with an impudent grin and immediately received a painful blow to the kidneys.
- Keep your mouth shut, bitch. I give you one last chance, either do what is said, or it will be a bad option. Me, you know, pohrenu, which option you choose.
- Yes, burn in hell.
βOkay, okay, I agree,β Dan yelled when they started beating him. Having received for the prevention of a few more strikes on the ribs, he flew out of the van to the pitted asphalt.
- How can I contact you? - croaked Denis, sitting on the pavement.
- I'll contact you myself.
The minivan rushed up the hill and quickly disappeared from view. Dan lowered a little more, cursed his difficult life and the ancestors of Arumov up to the tenth knee and walked unsteadily back home.
"Well, what's the deal!" - Senya lazily stretched, showing the world to fall with sharp fangs and reluctantly tears from the warm belly. Helen already safely slept. Specially lull her was not required.
βYes, man-from-dreams has serious problems. And if he sticks flippers together in a week, he will have to be reasonable for the rest of his days. Jolly perspective. You can, of course, turn off the cameras and, under hypnosis, pull out of the hostess everything she knows about Arumov, but this is unlikely to give anything. So first you need to send a message to the curator. β
Arseny deftly jumped on the shelf of the furniture wall and not very deftly knocked over a teddy bear, closing the eye of the camera installed by the people of Arumov. Then, no longer hiding, he moved to the table and quickly sent a brief report and request to the curator from the laptop. And curled up on a closed device, he waited.
Denis again walked over the overgrown garden to the Bauman bust. Something confused him in the environment, but for a long time he could not understand what it was. Small stones crunched underfoot, old trees rustled. The day was windy and dank, he could smell the wet grass and the faded leaves. Yes, the sounds familiar to the city did not reach here, like the hooters of cars and the hum of the human crowd, but for the East it was common even in residential areas. But itβs still strange somehow: itβs just that he licked his bruises in his kitchen, and when and how did he get to the park ...? Just sitting on a bench in the center, Denis realized what was wrong. As in the past times, he realized this when he saw a large striped cat, conveniently sprawled on the bench opposite.
Milaha Arseny did not seem to cause the slightest fear and never showed a drop of aggression. Now, he just ran his claws into cracked wood and blinked at the sun that appeared behind the clouds. What kind of danger can come from such a cute cat? But it always seemed to Denis that this incredible creature, crawling out of the most secret depths of the imperial laboratories, was just making fun of him. He clearly saw this grin in his narrowed yellow eyes. And he carefully studies his mind, his strengths and weaknesses, then to report to his secret masters. Although, according to Semyon, the only curator of these creatures was himself.
βWell, soaring, you seem to be in full swing,β came the voice of Semyon, who was crouching beside him, distracting Denis from playing with his cat in his eyes.
- Yeah, I'm in trouble. We didnβt even have time to draw up a manifesto, as Arumov had already received the main fighter against the regime. And so reliably, do not twitch ...
- What did you want, old school. But do not despair, our furry friend in his lair is a serious trump card. Great, by the way, was the idea about this Lenochka. Maybe some other ideas have appeared?
- Not yet, except to try to lure Arumov for the personal transfer of Max, to seize and beat out the nanobots' disable codes. True, you first need to quietly agree with Max himself.
- A very dangerous option for you, for me and for your friendship. Arumov, after all, can make an appointment with a small personal army. And how many fighters can we set? And the real value of Max is not clear as a bait.
- This is so, thought out loud. You better say: dug something about Arumov or their small party with SRI RSAD?
- About the colonel, nothing new: he jumped out, like the devil from a snuffbox, without a past, but with a whole army of personally loyal militants.
- And about the telecoms super-soldiers did not dig?
- As for super-soldiers, there is such a hypothesis: after the second space, when our troops turned around from Mars, some of the ghosts secretly hid in underground caves under Fula and other cities. I donβt know how they survive there, but there are quite a few indirect facts of their presence. It is clear that they are stubborn guys, so the guerrillas are quietly, and the Martians are writing off all sorts of radicals as terrorist acts. For the Martians, they apparently create serious problems, maybe worse than agents of the MIC: they do not smoke them out, and punitive expeditions from the dungeons do not always return. I think that in the end they managed to persuade all or part of the ghosts to cooperate. The traitors gave them the decoded ghost genotype, so the Martians began to rivet them. And the Inkis Security Council is simply used as cannon fodder in exchange for a place on the Consultative Council. Or another option: Telecom is troubled by this topic without its sworn friends from Neyrotek and MDT, so they placed everything in Moscow. Against whom it is being prepared, there are also several options: maybe against those ghosts who have not repented and not realized, or maybe Telecom wants to gain a competitive advantage in a fair market struggle. In short, you need to dig further.
- And Arumov, think, for whom he works? Telecom?
- It is unlikely, I think he has some plans of his own, he does not look like an amateur to help the Martians unselfishly.
- Yes, I thought so too. But Leo Schultz, it seems, on the contrary loves Martians. Why did they sing like that?
- It is necessary to distinguish between the concept of "feeds the Martians sincere unrequited love" and "wants to occupy a high position in the Martian elite." I think that our cunning Schulz is also playing some kind of double game with his goals, and, probably, he does not sound the entire story about Arumov to her masters from Mars.
- And what about the telecom security and loyalty checks?
- I do not know, while we can only guess. All the more or less reliable info and I laid out to you. Let's better think what to do next.
- Let's think. Who have brain operations?
- Well, actually, Deniska, you have a brain and the main ideological inspirer. I am so old, hrych, here I breed cats. There will be more data from the replicant about Arumov, then, maybe, it will illuminate me. You'd better find out what your relationship is with your friend.
- Yes, you know, you canβt directly ask, the telecom chip, and the handsome Tom is now breathing in the back. Maybe Max too cat to throw for a secret connection?
- If he is a serious lump in Telecom, you can check the cat. And he himself, if unreliable, then easily surrender us. Are you sure about him?
- Not. Were like bosom friends, but when he dumped on Mars five years ago, we somehow got lost. With whom he was hanging out there, hell knows. But it would be necessary to talk, he called me, he wanted to meet. And the sooner the better. Now itβs probably very dangerous, but to pull further, hoping that the situation with Tom will somehow be resolved, I see no reason. And it would be good to warn Max. You did not think up how to transfer a secret message to a person with a Telecom neurochip?
- No, Dan, we have already discussed this many times. Any secret cipher or code system requires at least prior agreement with Max himself. And she can easily attract the attention of the SAT.
- We need to come up with one that does not attract. Like you play chess and when you touch a certain figure, you say important information, and the rest is empty chatter.
- Kindergarten, forgive me. Such ancient tricks in our enlightened age hardly prokanaet. And anyway, it would be necessary to agree first with Max what to touch there.
- Suppose he guesses along the way.
- Dan, for the hundredth time the same thing. If he guesses, why would the sexuality who watches his chip not guess.
- With chess for example. We must come up with a trick based on what only two of us know.
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Source: https://habr.com/ru/post/450298/
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