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The Before Short Story Series. Part 1

The Before Short Story Series.

A short story series. Part 1.

Notes from the future about the technologies of the emerging civilization.

Before: Destiny

Ayaka

‘I don’t want, I don’t want, I don’t want! I won’t— I won’t eat anything without Daddy! Let’s wait for Daddy!’ Ayaka was as restless as ever.

‘Ayaka, you know it very well: there is a certain way things are done. We always have lunch at 12:30. Don’t you remember what Uncle Manabu was saying?’ Hiromi tried to distract her daughter from the so much detested lunch.

‘No, Mummy, I don’t! What was Uncle Manabu saying?’

‘He said, honey, that the girls that follow their daily routine the right way, that follow what their parents say and do as they say, will always have good health. And as you know, Ayaka healthy girls can spend a lot of time playing with their friends. Surely you want to play with Sano and Ryuu in the afternoon, don’t you?’

‘I do!’ Ayaka frowned, picked the edge of her dress, decorated with pink bear cubs, and lifted it, drawing it onto her head.

‘Ayaka, what are you doing?!’ The mother came up and pulled the dress back. ‘So many times have I already told you, Ayaka—good girls don’t do this! Please, don’t do this again.’

‘Sorry, Mummy. I won’t— And I won’t lunch now either!’ Ayaka exploded with loud objections, only barely not crying. ‘But where is Daddy?!’

‘Good heavens, Ayaka…’

Hiromi approached the kitchen area, separated from the living room by a high bar, and tried to call her husband on her communicator.

‘Hi Keirou! are you coming home? yet long to go?’ she made sure that Ayaka was busy with something and quietly continued recording a voicemail for her husband, ‘Ayaka is refusing to lunch without you. I need you at home. Please call me back, Keirou.’

Ayaka was making her way into her new constructor kit on a sitting-mat in the middle of the living room. The Martian base kit summary read, ‘The Quantum constructor will help your child not only with assembling multi-component engineering systems of a Martian base: development of data analysis skills, systematization and information structuring, creative skills development, and yet more—these are the ways for Quantum to fully uncover your child’s potential. The kit was developed with help of experienced children psychologists and Japan Space Agency specialists. Let your child make a confident step into the new world!’ Ayaka’s straight black hair—reaching her shoulders and tied into a ponytail so that they wouldn’t disturb her playing—for some reason were curling. She was mumbling something to herself while running through the kit details. ‘I wonder whom she’s like with this. Only Grandma had her ends curl too, I guess’, Hiromi was thinking while watching Ayaka play.

‘Aren’t you cold, Aya-chan?’ Hiromi made out some air conditioning sounds in the room noise.

‘No, Mummy, thanks! I feel great in these tighties!’

Hiromi impatiently took the communicator and went out to the balcony to see if she could spot her husband’s car.

‘Good afternoon, Ms Arai!’ a low male voice startled her.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Sano!’ she greeted her neighbour, a very old man smoking on his balcony, through a barrier.

‘Isn’t the weather just wonderful today, Ms Arai? only maybe a little too hot. What do you think?’

‘Oh, Mr Sano, could you imagine it, I even had to turn the air conditioning on. I totally agree with you.’ She spotted her husband’s pickup truck coming down the hill in the beginning of the street. ‘Sorry, Mr Sano! Keirou is coming back, I need to lay the table for my family’

‘Oh, sure, sure! Have a very nice day, Ms Arai!’

‘Wow, again like a chimney—at this point the smoke will totally get into the room. Thank God the wind is the other way today. Not only did he lead himself into such a state, now he wants to help the others too,’ so thought Hiromi about her neighbour, shaking her head on the way back to the living room.

‘Aya-chan, Daddy is back! go wash your hands and we will have lunch.’

‘Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!’ Ayaka leapt up and began to run wild around the room.

‘Ayaka, please, calm down! Grandma Yano will think a volcano is erupting if you stomp your feet so much!’

But Ayaka heard nothing of what her mother was saying. Running up to the front door and having made her way through the lock, she ran downstairs to meet her father, all the while yelling loudly.

‘So many tourists in the park today. There were like two buses of Americans brought here. I don’t even know where they got so many people to begin with! Can you imagine, Hiromi,’ Keirou was telling her wife, ‘two buses! I do think though it was on purpose—it surely is a lot cooler on Deck 1 than in the city, oh yes it is. They must have wanted to save on air conditioning, right Ayaka?’

‘Keirou, don’t distract her please! it wouldn’t hurt you to eat as well, too.’

‘I think, Daddy, that air conditioning needs to be turned off. They are very inefficient energetically. It’s so hot today! Mummy turned the air conditioning on at home. And she also put some tights on me: here, have a look,’ Ayaka lifted her dress in the same way again—to show her father her white tights covering half of her belly, which had already got bigger since she started eating.

Keirou burst into laughter.

‘Ayaka!’ Hiromi called her daughter as though threatening further action. ‘Pull the dress back at once and eat on! Why are you encouraging her, Keirou?’

’I am sorry, Hiro-chan. Sorry,’ he smiled while struggling to hold his smile and throwing a glance or two at his wife. ‘Aya-chan, Mummy was right to turn the air conditioning on. Otherwise it would be too hot inside—you see, it is about two o’clock, and it’s like 30° out there right now. And it probably will get hotter yet! Meanwhile, it is cool and nice in here, isn’t it? And the tights—you were sitting on the floor, so that’s why Mummy did that.’

‘Yes, Daddy, I do agree. It is right. It is warm in the tighties.’

‘The lunch is great today, Hiromi. Thank you!’

‘I am glad you like it.’

‘I like it too, Mummy!’ Ayaka supported her father.

‘Keirou, do you remember that we need to go to Tōkyō next week with Ayaka?’

‘Tōkyō? Why would it be?’ Keirou asked, surprised.

Hiromi looked at her husband with some disapproval, ‘Next week, Keirou, our daughter is turning six. That means we need to go to the Destiny House.’

‘I sure do remember that Ayaka’s birthday is next week, right. But I did forget everything about destiny.’

‘Well now you do remember—so please, we need to think everything out.’

‘Daddy, dad-dy! Look, I’m already done with it!’ Ayaka ran up to her father showing him a finished module of a Martian atomic power plant. A lamp on the module was blinking green, indicating that the module was ready to be connected to the main energy network of the base.

‘Aya-chan, and when did you open this constructor kit? when did you start assembling it?’ Keirou was asking.

‘Sorry Daddy, I had absolutely no time for that!’ Ayaka protested, shaking her head from side to side. ‘Mummy gave me a big reading task last night, it took all my time. I only managed to start it today before lunch.’

‘Oh, I see, Aya-chan. Great job! Let’s see what you got there.’

Keirou picked up the constructor kit box from the floor: ‘For children aged 10 to 14’.

Mt Fuji

‘Have you fastened your seat belt well back there, Aya-chan? Let me check,’ Keirou turned back to the passenger seat with his daughter settled comfortably in a child safety seat. He still had that certain mistrust of the autopilot—as well as of all those novel automatic stuff like artificial intelligences, automata, and robots, which had replaced humans in so many spheres of life—Keirou preferred to drive his car by himself. And it was quite a feat to find a manually-controlled electric car. The production of such cars was limited and in the first place they were designed for special emergency services, military, and some other detachments. However, as Keirou was related—even though only quite distantly—to the Emergency Service, being a member of the foresting service of the Fuji–Hakone–Izu National Park, he had had such a vehicle assigned to him by means of a special request.

‘Ayaka, has Mummy told you that next week you are going to Tōkyō?’

‘Yes, Daddy. Mummy said that we are going to the Destiny House. I have no idea what it is, though. By the way, what will we be doing there?’

‘I will tell you a story, Ayaka, on our way to the park.’

‘Tell it now. Please!’

‘Well, fine. Listen, Ayaka. Once upon a time, long long ago, there was a free ranger in Japan called Mr Fuji. He had no family: he lived alone. He served no-one, obeyed no-one. He had no children, no wife, not even a dog. As the free ranger didn’t need to care about his relatives, he resolved to dedicate all the time he had, his whole life to pursue wisdom from the most experienced, most knowledgeable people around. Mr Fuji decided that he would travel much further than just across Japan: he had the whole world open for himself, as the free spirit and pure heart know no borders and no limits. He decided to meet peasants, military men, sages, merchants, craftsmen, doctors—as many people of different life and craft as he possibly could, to learn from them their way of life, what matters to them, what they believe in, what sciences they learn, how they bring their children up,’ Keirou glanced in the rear-view mirror at Ayaka, who was attentively listening and looking at him from time to time. ‘Mr Fuji travelled so much, visited so many countries that people started composing legends about him. And the tale of his travels spread even quicker than he would go himself. When the wanderer reached a new place, one where he had never been before, the people he would meet there would already know everything about his pursuit, the reasons of his coming, and all that he wanted from them. Some were unwilling to share knowledge with him: they thought it might come to hurt them. Indeed, Mr Fuji had already learned so much, been to so many different continents, met so many learned people… they were afraid he would come to use his newly-gained knowledge to get hold of their houses and riches, to conquer their lands, to drive them away. Once, in a southern land, the free wanderer got caught by barbarians who demanded him to lay all his secrets bare. Mr Fuji was genuinely surprised, “What kind of mysteries do you want to learn about?” he said. “I have no mysteries. I am ready to tell you all I have learnt.” “Then do tell!” demanded the captors. And so he started his story: “During my wandering I visited many wonderful and miraculous places, and met many wise, open, and honest people. They told me so much about their achievements, about their skills and experience, that in the very beginning of my travel I realized that I had to continue not with the goal to learn all those wise peoples knew—for I would be unable to learn even an insignificant share of what they knew—but because when I would some day come back to my native land, the story of my life would serve as a proof that the life that we have been granted is an invaluable vessel. In the beginning it is empty, and what you fill it with and how—what the contents of your life will be, what would be your true goals and aspirations, and whether you would be worthy of your ancestors—all this depends on you, and on you alone. The secret for me to share with the world is simple: we ourselves are responsible for our destinies, we ourselves choose a path to follow. The wisdom of gathered knowledge is a priceless energy, which everyone can obtain and use for others’ sake.” The barbarians did not believe Mr Fuji, they thought he was deceiving them, as the secret he had just told was absolutely worthless, had no profit, and there was no-one it could be sold to. They left the free wanderer alone without food or water in a deep well and told him, “When you can fill this hole with your stories in such a way that your so-called priceless energy of life would lift you up to the ground, only then would you become free. Or else you can tell us the truth and uncover the secrets you are currently keeping—then we will set you free.” But the wanderer had nothing else to say, and so gradually, day after day, his saw his life fade. When Mr Fuji became one of the earth spirits, he roamed far and wide in search of a place to dwell. And so he came back to Japan, and found such a place for himself: such became Mt Fuji, a vessel of eternal wisdom, to be filled by his successors.’

Having made a pause, Keirou continued, ‘This story was told to me by my father—your grandfather. Did you get it, Ayaka, what it was that Mr Fuji did?’

‘I got it, Daddy! he settled in our volcano. Now I know why you are working in the park—you are guarding Mr Fuji, so that his wisdom wouldn’t get lost.’

‘Very well, daughter. It is important to remember that we choose our life course for outselves—what and when we should do, where and with whom we should live, how we can benefit our society, our country the most. Remember, Ayaka, that your life too is a vessel. Just as Mr Fuji’s, it can be filled with knowledge for everyone’s sake. Or else we can live our life in vain, scattering only rubbish on our way.’

‘Yes, Daddy. But there was one thing I didn’t get: why was it that the barbarians didn’t believe Mr Fuji’s words? why, Daddy?’

‘Ayaka, many times people don’t see the most important things they already have in their hands. Often we think that the truth is too difficult, and only having learnt it—having uncovered this great secret—do we realize what it really takes to be happy.

The blue truck drove up to the Fuji–Hakone–Izu National Park main building, surrounded by crowds of tourists—apparently, they had just got off the long row of buses parked nearby. Sun covers above the main building entrance—which harboured a Mt Fuji history museum, some lecture halls, a forestry service, a medical section, and the park administration—made the hot a little more bearable, but it was still very notable. Even the leaves on nearby trees got dimmer, losing a bit of their juicy shine.

‘You know, Ayaka,’ Keirou said to his daughter, ‘you should probably rather study at home today. Look how many visitors there are here today. I guess I will have quite a restless day.’

Keirou was critically examining the tens of people crowded by the central entrance to the National Park. The tourists wanted to get to one of the observation decks on a side of the volcano as soon as possible—and for a reason, as it was likely to be much cooler there.

‘If you go with me, Ayaka-chan, I will be constantly distracted, I will be worrying about you, and so I might miss something important. It won’t be good, will it? so we have a deal, Ayaka, right?’

‘Right, Daddy,’ said Ayaka, barely holding her tears.

Keirou approached the rear passenger door, where Ayaka was sitting to check the safety belts in her child safety seat.

‘Oh, and Mummy hasn’t got your tights off either… this way you will surely overheat here,’ he hugged his daughter’s shoulders and kissed her on the forehead.

‘Shin, would you please bring Ayaka back home and get back here?’ Keirou gave an order to his digital assistant. ‘Tell Hiromi to meet Ayaka near the house and to see her in. When you come back, please park on the staff parking lot. Did you get all of it, Shin?’

‘Sure indeed, Keirou. I will bring Ayaka back home and come back to the National Park main building,’ Shin confirmed receiving the task.

‘Ayaka, everything all right?’

‘Yes, Daddy. It’s only that I want to go with you!’

‘Sorry Ayaka-chan, but not today. Next time, I promise.’

Keirou saw the slowly accelerating blue car leave. The bare peak of Mt Fuji was visible through the leaf cover. ‘Even the snow cap can’t bear this heat, it all melt.’ Making a deep breath of heavy hot air, Keirou walked to the staff entrance.

Ozzie

‘Good Lord! My God! Is there anything at all that you can do normally?! Look at the hole you’ve left here! wow, this block is really worth nothing now. Throw this away immediately! just what kind of work is this, I wonder… that’s no work! that’s some half-assed junk, for all I can say! 100% pure shit, nothing more!’ Jordan got hold of the keyboard and, banged it loudly on the table with anger. A number of keys got loose and flew into his face. ‘Whoa, damn it! damn morons!… get out everyone! everyone out of here! Out no-ow! I am saying, GET OUT YOU DAMN MORONS! I-DI-OTS!’

Lizzie got up from her table, tears in her eyes, picked up her bag, her phone, and went to the exit. Everyone else—not a word spoken—left too. Silence ensued. Only a slight sound of the air conditioning system went on actively filling in the void with an image of office life.

‘Morons! Idiots! Damn it!’ Jordan picked up the broken keyboard and threw it into the wall. Then he came up to the scattered keys and crouched, holding his hands to his head.

A couple of minutes later Jordan got his phone from a pocket of his loose jeans and dialled Beg Shauncan: ‘Hey Beg. That’s me. I got fired up a little here.’

‘Oh wow! who would have thought!’

‘Not funny. I have to face these dumbass morons day after day, all day long. We could have already started the project, were it not because of them! you see?!’

‘Jo, your getting fired up costs us millions… but that’s not all yet! the worst is that the best coders we hire for you refuse to work with you! what shall I do about this, Jo?’

‘But they are just dumb idiots! you do get it! they don’t work—they do nothing but get in the way! that’s all that happens in this damn office! they only slow the thing down! they do nothing to make it quicker!’

‘Well, it’s fine, Jo. I see. We’ll make it work. Don’t overthink it. Let’s make a deal: get some rest. At least today. Please. You are tired. You get so worked up about nothing. Go home. Have a walk. Watch a film. Should I arrange for some girls to visit?’

Jordan sniffed into the microphone, ‘Fine, Beg. I will. I will go home. Sorry. No girls, please. I have a dog.’

The two shared a laugh.

‘Great then. Deal. Have some rest, please, Jo. See you tomorrow.’

‘Bye, Beg.’

Jordan stopped in a parking lot in front of a row of cars. Each parking space was marked with yellow JB letters.

‘The weather is great today. No rain forecast. The clearance of this car is low. It holds well to the road. The acceleration is acceptable. I shall air my head,’ reasoned Jordan while sitting down into a roadster. The Porsche reacted to a Start button pressing: the control panel lit up. He pressed some more buttons: and there was music, and the tin roof folded into the boot. The main screen read, ‘Please indicate the point of destination.’ Jordan pressed Manual control and kicked the accelerator pedal into the floor.

Driving to his house’s gate, Jordan turned the music off and took a deep breath. ‘Looks like I calmed down a little. Beg’s right. I do need to have some rest once in a while.’ Having chosen the Parking option, Jordan took out his phone and made a note, ‘Think what to do with dumb employees—might need an intermediary’. The car slowly passed by the main entrance and stopped in front of the garage gate, waiting for the lifting door to open. Jordan opened the car door and got out. The autopilot system started making sounds of unrest, and Please specify further actions appeared on the screen. Jordan, on his way to the front door, chose the Parking option in the Porsche app.

‘Good afternoon, Jordan! I didn’t expect you so early here.’

‘Good afternoon, Sarah. I didn’t expect myself here either—apparently I will have some kind of a holiday today. I hope I won’t disturb you too much.’

‘I am very glad you came home earlier today—it’s been a while that you have needed some rest,’ Sarah said with a kind smile.

A dog’s barking followed. As soon as she heard Jordan, Ozzie ran to see him through the whole house. Beating her sides with her tail, she rushed into her master’s hands.

‘Ozzie! you my good girl! good! good dog!’ Jordan sat stroking and patting his bull terrier, happily wriggling in his feet. ‘You my cutie! time to get you on a diet, Ozzie. Look how tight your sides have got.’

For a moment Jordan thought of asking Sarah if she was following the indicated diet for Ozzie, but then he realized that this question would have compromised him: how could he imagine the very possibility of the indicated course of actions in his house not being followed.

‘Sarah, today I will have my lunch outside.’

‘I will get it ready in a moment. I need some fifteen minutes.’

‘Very well, thank you.’

Jordan went through the living room to the terrace windows. Ozzie followed him at his foot, wagging her tail in a pleased way and glancing at him every few seconds—making sure that he was still there by her side. ‘The weather’s quite rough today,’ observing the waves, Jordan doubted the feasibility of his idea to have a lunch outside. He looked at the windmills, located as far as possible from the house, so that not to spoil the ocean view from the living room and the terrace. ‘The rotation speed is higher than usual. The wind is too strong and it looks like it can still rain in a while.’Approaching the end of the living-room glass wall, he pressed a button—and immediately a breeze hit his face, as though it carried all the energy stored in the deep ocean. Running out to the open area of the terrace, Ozzie began to bark. ‘Well, five minutes or so and we are frozen here for sure.’

‘Ozzie, come here! come here, my girl!’

By the glass barriers and still barking loudly, Ozzie was looking at her master. ‘Well, let’s see what is so interesting that you saw there.’ Jordan came up to the dog and looked around. A strong wind was hitting his face with cold blasts. It seemed that the splashes of breaking waves down below the cliff were reaching him.

‘Let’s go home, Ozzie. Let’s go.’ Jordan patted his leg and went back to the living room. The dog, waddling slightly awkwardly, followed him there.

‘Sarah, I am afraid the idea of a terrace lunch is not working out. Please bring everything to my first-floor study.’

‘I sure will, Jordan’, the assistant’s voice came out of the watch on his wrist. He appreciated a lot Sarah’s approach to her job, and he did trust her. As much, sure, as Jordan could trust anyone at all. Even so, the fact that he was ready to leave Ozzie with Sarah for a week when going away on a business trip spoke volumes about their relationship. Earlier he would take the dog with him on all trips, which naturally caused a lot of issues and slowed the work process considerably. It was necessary to observe all kinds of quarantines and to comply with all the varied requirements for animal transportation that applied in different countries. He entrusted all house keeping to Sarah. She was the one in charge of organizing and overseeing house repairs, maintaining a fleet of cars, and even of buying his underwear. Jordan set up a separate account for housekeeping, the money in which was totally under Sarah’s control—she would also hire various contractors to maintain all the environment where Jordan led his life. He appreciated—no, he greatly appreciated Ms Estrada’s work and he paid generously for it. Six years after she got the job, she brought over her whole family from Mexico to the States.

Ozzie lay on a leather couch by the window while Jordan sat down at his desk and turned the TV on, choosing a news channel—just to make the room less empty.

‘Did you get cold out there? Ozzie?’ The dog was trying to get her nose under the nearby plaid. Jordan walked up to her and covered her. Sitting down next to the dog, he started petting her muzzle. The black spot around her black eye was suggesting an uncommon coloration: on one side, the left side, she was completely white—and the other side she had it all covered with black spots, just as well as her right paws in black socks. ‘An interesting mutation,’ noted Jordan to the breeder upon seeing the energetic active puppy for the very first time.

‘Oh Ozzie, how quickly flies the time! we’ve been living in this house for eight years already. Soon our big project will be done, my girl. Who knows, what we shall be doing afterwards.’

Ozzie was happily snoring, her muzzle next to her master.

Tōkyō

‘Ayaka, we’re leaving in five minutes! are you ready? everything you need too?’ shouted Hiromi from her bedroom.

‘Yes, Mummy, I am ready.’

‘Ayaka, what’s that?! why are you still not wearing the dress I gave you? why are you in your tights? we have no time at all! the train will be at the station in twenty minutes. Please, get your tighties off quickly and put your dress on.’

‘Mummy, I did everything the way you told it last time: the air conditioning is on, so I am in tighties.’

‘Ayaka, did you get what I was saying—get your tights off and put your dress on! please hurry up! otherwise we will miss the train. We’ll already have to call a taxi to the station.

In ten minutes Hiromi and her daughter were standing on the Tsuru station platform, waiting for a high-speed train that would bring them to the capital city centre in twenty minutes. In Japan, the idea of building underground high-speed expressways was rejected due to the high risk of regular earthquakes, which although possible to compensate with use of some advanced engineering technology of our days, would be simply too costly to maintain. Japan Rail focused their efforts on creating a ground-level system of high-speed trains. Its main working principle is similar to that of the underground expressways: levitation, based on superconductor magnets. As there is no physical contact between the surface of conductive rails, which create a strong magnetic field, and the train, friction can be avoided altogether. Taking into account the unavoidable limitations of the ground level, such as train body air drag, the maximum speed values of Japanese trains could not reach the levels set by the newest transport infrastructure in other parts of the world. Nevertheless though, the artificial intelligence based on the quantum computing power of the PAX system allowed the engineers to increase the reliability and efficiency of the Japanese rail transport system.

On the platform, where a dozen people had gathered together with Ayaka and Hiromi, rang an announcement, ‘Dear passengers! the train No. 3346, Nagoya–Tōkyō, in five minutes will be stopping at the Tsuru station at the second track. The stop duration is limited and will last no longer than one minute. Please make sure to get ready for boarding in advance.’

‘Mummy, look, what a cute train! why does it have such a long nose? Mummy?’ Ayaka was gesturing quickly, greeting the swiftly approaching train.

‘Let’s take our seats and I will explain you everything there.’

‘Sure, Mummy.’

‘Ms Arai,’ a steward approached the newly-boarded passengers as soon as the train started accelerating, ‘I greet you on board the Japan Rail train. Would you like to order anything?’

‘Thank you very much. Could I please have a bottle of still water? It is very hot outside today.’

‘It is good that at least in Tōkyō it is a little cooler than yesterday. Your daughter will feel better there,’ continued the steward while passing a bottle to Hiromi.

‘And we are going to the Destiny house!’ Ayaka was curiously studying the steward’s uniform.

‘This is sure to be a great day for you! I have been to the Destiny house so long ago, but I still remember all about how it was. Me as well, young lady, I went there together with my mother. It was fifty years ago at this point, and I still remember everything. Congratulations! What is your name?’

‘Arai Ayaka, Mr Steward.’

‘Here, Miss Ayaka, please have this gift from the Japan Rail company! and receive our congratulations on this very important day in your life!’ the steward handed a long cardboard box, which had something roll around inside.

‘Thank you very much, Mr Steward!’ Ayaka slipped down from the seat and made a bow.

‘Very well, Ayaka. Let’s see what Mr Steward has given you,’ Hiromi helped her daughter unwrap her new gift.

In a colourful, vividly decorated souvenir box there were a colour book, a set of felt-tip pens, a badge, a hat with the JR logo, and an authentically-styled paper scroll, rolled into two coils on two wooden sticks.

‘What’s this, Mummy?’ Ayaka picked the scroll by one of the sticks, while the other one fell out of the box and rolled down the carriage floor, unfolding the whole scroll.

‘Right, Ayaka, let’s get it all back together quickly. Roll it back in,’ said Hiromi, unamused.

‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘It’s fine, never mind. Please roll it back carefully. It is the history of Japan Rail company. Read it, Ayaka, and then you’ll tell me what it is about.’

‘Sure, Mummy!’

‘I hope there will be enough to read until we reach Tōkyō. Oh, I wish it were,’ Hiromi picked up the communicator and started scrolling through the news feed of House, a social network. She reached the Haute couture, explained in simple words section…

‘Mummy, I finished,’ Ayaka started rolling the scroll back in.

Hiromi looked at her daughter, slightly surprised, ‘When would she have the time,’ she thought, ‘to read through all of that?’

‘Right, Ayaka. Tell me please what it is about.’

‘This is a story about how Japan Rail started building new high-speed train tracks across the whole country in 2059. They also tell about the PAX system and how it helped make the trains faster yet. Mummy, and what is the PAX? tell me more, please.’

Hiromi found an article about the PAX on her communicator and gave it to her daughter, ‘Here, please, read, Ayaka. I sure won’t be able to remember all the important details. Here you can learn a lot more.’

Hiromi looked out the window. The train was swiftly passing by small towns, the existence of which could only be deduced from the sound barriers installed to protect the dwellers from the noise of trains passing by at 600 km/h. Here and there between the hills—somewhere seemingly soft and yielding because of the green tree carpet, somewhere dangerously sharp with grey-brown rocks, reminding of a seasoned predator’s chisels—majestic stood Mt Fuji. This year it had no snow cap because of the unusual for the Eastern coast of Japan heat that came about in August. Hiromi did like looking at it, one of the main symbols of the country—yet she couldn’t help being jealous, resentful of the fact that it was taking nearly all of Keirou’s time leaving her with so little, and that was almost bringing her to desperate tears from time to time. A little animal park, a number of observation decks, meteorological and seismological stations, a museum, an infinite flux of tourists—requiring several hundreds of employees in high season—all that demanded attention and care. ‘Keirou is finding time for them, for Ayaka, but—unfortunately—not as much for me… well at least the article is long enough,’ thought Hiromi and tried to get those unpleasant thoughts away by immersing herself in an article about the summer 2167 holidays season trends on her tablet.

‘Mummy, I’m done!’ Hiromi looked at her daughter, ‘How could it be?!’ but showed not a thing.

‘That’s great, Ayaka! please tell me what you have read.’

‘So apparently the operation of artificial intelligence on the basis of a distributed quantum computer system, PAX, was started back in the middle of the last century, in 2053. The main developer of the system, Jordan Bensock, is a genius programmer and engineer from the U.S. He is still alive. Today Bensock is the richest man on the planet. His personal fortune exceeds one trillion dollars. Can you imagine, Mummy, Mr Bensock could help make refurbishments in Grandma Yano’s flat! Mummy, let’s write him about Grandma, let’s ask him to help her!

‘We will discuss this a little later, Ayaka. Have you understood, what is— well, how the PAX actually works?’

‘Yes, Mummy. It works just like our brain, like a human brain. Just that when PAX artificial intelligence is operating, it’s more like many many people would be friends.’

‘Sorry, and why friends?’

‘Because when we are friends, we always do things together. When PAX is working, it’s almost like many people—many minds—work together on a same task.’

‘Very well, Ayaka. Do you remember, why we are going to the capital today?’

‘Sure, Mummy. We are going to the Destiny house to learn what I will be doing in the future.’

‘Let me please tell you how everything worked earlier, how your grandparents lived.

The traditions and the culture of our country, Ayaka, are such that for our society the concept of mutual respect—to each other, to the family, to those older than you—is crucially important. In our country it is important to understand that the work that we all do, everyone’s work, is important for everyone. We all are constantly making a contribution to the common good—to the common success of us all—and that we are creating new opportunities for the society—for us all. Before, when people were choosing their life path, they would mostly seek inspiration in their families’ history—so that, usually, the children would continue their parents’ job. A family owning a textile manufacture over tens—or even hundreds—of years, a small grocery, a publishing house, a dynasty of doctors or journalists, and a whole lot of other similar examples—children would often follow in their parents’ steps. And it is not because that was simpler or easier to get going: the problem had many sides to it. A human life used to be much shorter before. Now we live to two hundred years, and before only singular people would reach an age of one hundred years. People had to start developing the skills they would later use for work from a very early age so that they could potentially reach something in this short period of active life. The right to make a mistake—and to be able to start anew afterwards—used to be a privilege of a very limited group of people, and these people did pursue self-fulfillment indeed, not held hostages by everyday life problems. The majority of people, however, had to make a decision as soon as possible in their youth—to find themselves, they would say—as early as they could. And if life had it such that the choice, made some time ago, did not bring about the expected result—if the person did not succeed in life—it would often already be too late to begin anything new. In a competitive world as it was, it was very hard to make your way through. And sometimes there were families that tried to program their children’s lives since the very early age. For instance, some parents would send their children to a tennis school at the age of 5, hoping that it might turn them successful at some tennis tournament some fifteen years later. And sometimes it did work—the children would become prominent tennis players, or golfers, or such.’

Hiromi looked at her daughter, ‘Ayaka, do you understand what I am talking about?’

‘Mummy, as far as I get it, before people would die much earlier and they didn’t have enough time to do their job the right way.’

‘Because?’

’They didn’t always make the right choice when they were children.’

‘So it is, Ayaka.’

‘So Grandma started breaking her back when she was born in our family?’

‘Grandma took on her father’s job, being a rice farmer in the fields that used to belong to our family.’

‘Daddy says Grandma would break her back from morning to evening.’

‘Ayaka, Daddy meant that Grandma worked a lot—in the field as well—helping to harvest the crops.’

‘Mummy, is it that Grandma also made a mistake when making her decision?’

‘No, dear. Our grandparents did not have the kind of possibilities that we have today with the PAX. Grandma was helping her family, taking on her father’s job, her grandfather’s, and so on. Grandma didn’t have a choice there, Ayaka. But you do have a choice. The PAX prepares high-probability scenarios to forecast in which fields you have the most chances to succeed and to do the most for the society—having access to the entirety of the world’s knowledge, and also having studied carefully your possibilities and intellectual potential. Do you see it, Ayaka?’

‘Yes, I do. The PAX will tell me what to do.’

‘The PAX will give you options. It will suggest you the fields in which you could do your best. It knows who, when, and where is doing whichever job. It also knows what issues are important now and which ones will be so in the future—by analysing the datasets it has—and it creates and carefully studies your personal profile. By getting all this information together into a strictly structured picture, into a single system of interdependencies, the computer is able to offer you a precise answer to one of the crucial questions in our lives—the one of why we are here in this world.

Hiromi was looking at her daughter, ‘I wonder if she understands what I am trying to tell her…’

‘But the final decision is up to you. Whatever you will do in your life, whichever way you will choose, the choice is yours, and yours alone, Ayaka.’

Pax

‘Look Beg, there’s one more thing that I’ve been thinking about,’ Jordan was going on with a weekly meeting on current issues. ‘I would like to work from home for a couple of weeks, so I don’t think I will be there in the office. I feel the solution is already at my fingertips, you see? I just need a little more to reach it. It is nearly there in my hands, so I don’t want to be distracted by quarrels with coworkers. And the other guys here will feel easier in my absence. At least for a while’

‘I think it is a good idea, Jo. A short break in the “Jordan Benson and Co.” team will totally benefit everyone. I am “for”, my friend.’

‘You might have held it at least a little bit,’ they both smiled, ‘or like this it even is a bit offensive.’

‘Right, right. Anything else you’d like to discuss?’

‘Yeah. I will send you a list of what I need to work at home, here to the lab.’

‘Sure, we’ll do everything.’

‘Then that’s all. Or well— please tell the guys I am very sorry for having burst like that. Will you?’

‘Yeah, sure, Jo. I guess they understand you anyway though.’

‘And make sure to tell them that doesn’t make them any less dumb idiots!’

‘Oh Jo, I nearly forgot.’

‘Right, please go on.’

‘On Wednesday we have a video-call planned with a big investor from the East Coast.’

‘And?’

‘Jo, we need you there. No-one can represent our project as well as you do. And they will be flattered by seeing you there.’

‘You know though just how much I like all these rounds and finance issues.’

‘I do, Jo. But you do understand it’s the right thing to do, don’t you?’

‘Sure. I’ll see what I can do. Please send me the details.’

‘I will! Let’s keep in touch.’

Ozzie was lying in her favourite spot, on a leather couch near by the window, and from time to time she was checking whether her master was still there.

‘Jordan, you ask us for one billion more. Would you please tell us about the current stage of the project?’ The participants’ glances were carefully studying Jordan from a big panel in his study.

‘First of all, gentlemen, we were never intending to ask anything from you,’ continued Jordan. ‘Not me, that’s for sure. What we are ready to offer you is to take part in our project. It will—I shall not be afraid to sound trivial—allow you to become infinitely richer. If you want to—please invest your money. If you don’t—that’s fine: I don’t believe we will get troubles with funding either way. Next, even if I do start telling you how our working process is organized, what we do, how we do, and what purpose exactly each stage serves, you will understand nothing in it—and this includes the so-called experts you hired. So please allow me to give you some advice—get rid of them. It will only benefit you financially.’

‘The idea that Jordan is trying to get across, gentlemen, is the following:’ Beg turned his microphone on. ‘We are interested in working on with your foundation and sure enough we are ready to inform you on the current stage of the project from time to time. Isn’t this the very reason of our meeting here today. However, the field in which our company specializes is too specific for us to be able to present our work to you in a precise fashion. That’s why we will have to limit ourselves to some general information, not going into excessive details—I agree with Jordan, they will clarify nothing at all.’

The foundation representative continued after a brief pause, ‘No-one on our side is expecting friendly meet-ups with you. But we would still like to insist on staying within certain limits while communicating. Furthermore, we are talking about significant investment, and so I hope you will agree, gentlemen, that we are well in our right to understand what we are investing in and what for. Jordan, would you please tell us the general information on the project in such a way that would let even us understand what it all is about.

‘No problem! Beg and our team have prepared a couple of slides which we are ready to demonstrate,’ Jordan began the shared presentation for the meeting participants.

A video appeared on the screen, showing a lab in the main campus of the IQC. There was a big black cube in the middle of the room, and on each of its faces there was a brilliant shiny IQC logo. The camera was showing the cube from all sides, flying around it.

‘Here, please, have a look at our prototype of a fully functional quantum computer,’ Jordan extended his hand toward the screen and stopped in that position.

‘That’s just amazing, Jordan! my congratulations! what a success!’ noted the representative after another pause, not even attempting to hide his being sarcastic. ‘You keep having fun, Jordan—at the very least I am very happy that you are in such a good mood today. Yet, what is all this about? What is this cube? What stage is the project at? Let’s get to business.’

‘Dear colleagues, this precisely is the very business we have!’ Jordan went to the next slide.

A silhouette of the planet Earth was seen on a background of deep-space black and the uncountable stars of the Milky Way.

‘So, Jordan, what is this slide supposed to mean? are you trying to suggest that we tackle the processor block cooling problem by using quantum computers in space?’

‘I owe you an apology. Your structural understanding of quantum computers—wide exceeding my expectations—does have a serious foundation,’ Jordan burst into laughter.

‘Your attention flatters me, Jordan. Thank you very much. But would you please still tell me what the idea is here?’ The investor, understanding that this hopelessly libertine genius engineer could only be dealt with by paying attention to the meaning of his words only—and disregarding their external shape altogether—was surprised with his own readiness to overcome his pride.

‘I want to say,’ Jordan went on, ‘that we can do everything. That’s my recommendation to you—an investment strategy where one simply cannot lose—and, moreover, I am ready to uncover it to you free of whatsoever charge. So please, whichever sum that your foundation decides to invest into the company’s development, whichever! will give you at least a multiple profit—make your decision, dear gentlemen.’

After yet another awkward pause Jordan summed up, ‘Gentlemen, if you have no further questions, I would like to continue my work. Thank you very much for your attention. Beg, thank you and see you.’

Jordan pressed the red button and disconnected from the video call.

‘What a bunch of greedy morons! don’t you agree, Ozzie dear?’ The dog reacted to her master’s voice by leaping down from the couch and running up to Jordan, happily wagging her tail. ‘Let’s go for a walk, shall we? a walk!’

Before: Journey

‘Good afternoon, Ms Vega. Welcome aboard. Your seat is on the right near the window, row eleven, please.’

‘Hello. Thank you.’

Elena walked down the narrow aisle between the seats occupied by passengers. Next to her window seat, there was a young guy sitting, an African American, in a black cap with some letters embroidered on it, in a silver leather jacket.

‘Good afternoon. May I pass, please’, pointing to her place near the window, Elena turned to the young man.

‘Hi’, not looking at her, the guy got up and stepped out into the aisle, bending his head so as not to hit himself.

Elena barely reached up to his chest, no higher. ‘My God, how tall and skinny … Maybe he's a basketball player,’ making her way to her seat, Elena felt a rather strong smell of toilet water. ‘And it will be like that all the way long…’

Despite a large distance between the rows, the guy's knees almost rested on the back of the front seat when he took his place.

‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome on board the United Boeing-7000 airliner. We are glad that you have chosen United for your trip. According to the results of the annual independent survey, United ranks first among American air carriers in flight safety over the last 25 years. The safety of our passengers is the first priority for our team.

In fifteen minutes our plane will head towards the runway. The flight from Madrid–Barajas International Airport to Washington–Dulles International Airport will take one hour and thirty minutes.

Please make sure that all your hand luggage is on the shelf above your seat. We ask you to check that your seat belt is fastened and tightened up to fit. We ask you not to leave your seats during the entire flight unless you need to and remain fastened during the entire flight. In a few minutes we will offer you some refreshments. We wish you a pleasant flight.’

Having listened to the announcement of the airliner staff, Elena took another look at her fellow passenger:

‘My name is Elena Vega,’ she held out her hand to the neighbor, inviting him to get acquainted. ‘Bosch Yunken,’ he said, not hiding his disappointment with being distracted from playing on the communicator.

‘Oh, I'm sorry, I'm distracting you.’

‘Well, yes. But now it doesn’t matter already.’

‘Coming back home, Bosch?’

‘What makes you think so?’

‘The translator,’ Elena pointed to the headphones in her ears. ‘They don't translate, they only broadcast your voice.’

‘Ah. Well, yes, home.’

‘And I'm going on holidays.’

‘Yeah, congrats. And what are you going to do on the east coast?’

‘Your country, Bosch, has such a rich history. I don't think I'll be bored.’

‘Ah, got it. That is, are you a specialist in museums or something?’

‘You could say that. My main goal is Baltimore.’

‘Well, and what have you forgotten in the middle of nowhere?’

‘The life of the great poet and writer Edgar Poe suddenly ended in Baltimore.’

‘Who is this? Doesn’t ring a bell.’

‘He lived a long time ago, Bosch. No wonder you haven't heard of him.’

‘Ah. Well, okay.’

‘I'm a big fan of Poe. I am planning to visit his grave, the places he used frequented. I would like to see for myself where it all happened.’

‘What happened?’

‘You know, there are some inconsistencies in the versions of why he actually died. And not all of them flatter him as a person. So I'm planning—rather, I hope to clarify something about what end his hard lot brought him to.’

‘Was he a member of some kind of group or something? Some kind of a gangster?’

‘Not at all. He lived in the nineteenth century. His literary career and personal life were quite ambiguous. Things were difficult for him…'

‘Yes. Well, good luck to you, Elena.’

‘Thank you, Bosch! What were you doing in Madrid?’ Bosch looked at Elena with a kind of detachment. ‘I'm sorry, Bosch. I won't distract you anymore.’

‘OK.’ Bosch continued playing with the communicator.

Looking at the endless blue of the ocean in the window, her eyes not setting on anything, Elena noticed Bosch returning to his seat.

‘Bosch, I'm sorry, may I ask you for advice, please. Do you mind?’

‘Come on.’

‘I didn't order a transfer to the hotel. I thought I'd get there on my own. Can you tell me the best way to get to Baltimore from the airport?’

‘I can. It will be better and faster on the shuttle. 5 minutes on the road.’

‘Oh, I see. That’s great. I booked a room in a hotel in the city center, on the Patapsco. The station is in the center of the city. Do I get it right, Bosch?’

‘Yes, as far as I remember.’

‘Yeah. And that is just what I do. I'll take your advice and go by shuttle. Thanks, Bosch.’

‘Anyway, I live there nearby. I can give you a lift to the hotel.’

‘Oh, come on, Bosch. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I don't want to be a burden.’

‘I wouldn't offer it if you were a burden.’ Bosch was looking at Elena with the same blank or perhaps a little bit stiff expression on his face.

‘I'd really appreciate it, Bosch.’

‘OK.’

Elena came up to the automated security and customs control desks, where she had to answer a number of standard questions:

‘What is the purpose of your visit to the United States of America?’

‘Tourism.’

‘Please give some details on the specific purpose of your visit.’

‘I am planning to visit a number of historical sites related to Edgar Poe’s life in Baltimore—this is my main goal. And, of course, my program includes a trip to Washington. I hope to see all the iconic sights in the capital, from the White House to the National Gallery of Arts.’

‘How long are you planning to stay in the U.S.?’

‘One week. I have a return ticket for Friday, end next week.’

The frame around the perimeter of the rack lit up green,

‘Welcome to the U.S. You may pass on.’

Elena noticed a tall black man in a silver jacket in the airport lounge.

‘I started worrying that you'd changed your mind, Bosch. You have such a remarkable appearance, it helps.’ Elena looked at the braids. ‘You are very tall. One can easily find you in such a crowd.’

‘Can we make it less formal. Eh?’

‘Good. I'm for it,’ Elena smiled. ‘Could we have lunch together? I'm a little hungry. And you?’

‘OK.’

‘Are you in no hurry now?’

‘There is time for lunch. Don’t you worry, Elena. If I was in a hurry, I wouldn't be here anymore.’

‘Great.’

‘So anyway, Bosch, may I ask you what you were doing in Spain?’

‘I have a factory near Madrid. Met with new leather suppliers. I had to check on the samples and see my managers.’

‘What's the leather for, Bosch?’

‘My company specializes in leather jackets.’

‘Wow, that's great! I see, your jacket is very cool!’

‘Well, at least, it’s different. It's important to me. To make my things different. And what do you do for a living?’

‘I am an accountant in a small manufacturing company. The factory does plastic windows, doors and the like.’

‘Sounds boring.’

‘I love my job, Bosch.’

‘It's important. I agree.’

‘How's your burger?’

‘Delicious, Elena. Thanks for asking.’

Sitting in a restaurant on the first floor of the airport, Elena and Bosch slowly continued with their lunch, moving on to desserts and coffee, paying no attention to a series of service announcements lost in the infinitely large international terminal of Dulles Airport. Everyone around was hurrying on business. Parents with restless children were obviously aiming at a resort vacation, judging by the bright shorts and the same cheerful shirts the whole family was wearing, which did not quite fit the beginning of the autumn season in any way. Formal business suits, whether of businessmen, lawyers, or maybe politicians, were supposed to emphasize their important social status and gave an unambiguous answer to everyone around—we are busy people, we should not be distracted by any trifles. A couple of young girls, carefree and not hiding fatigue, sailed towards the exit from the airport, seemingly after a long flight.

‘Are you ready, Bosch? Let's go to the hotel?’ Elena blushed.

Bosch looked at her:

‘Well, let's go.’

Bosch's personal capsule took passengers to downtown Baltimore via an underground highway in ten minutes. After walking around the city, the couple finally arrived at a hotel on the Patapsco River.

‘Will you come up?’ Elena asked without apparent embarrassment.

‘OK.’

The Bell

‘Hi! You are looking great, honey! Well? Tell me! I can’t wait to hear your story,’ entering the factory office, Susan began to question her friend straight from the doorstep.

‘I don't even know where to start, Sue’, smiling broadly, Elena handed her friend a small box wrapped in a stars-and-stripes paper.

‘What is it, dear?

‘A gift for you. A small souvenir from America.’

‘Wow! We love some surprises,’ Susan shook the box. ‘What is it there? Tell me!?’

‘Open it and have a look.’

‘Well, okay, then’, the friend started tearing up the package.

Having dealt with the box finally, Susan almost screamed.

‘Ah-ah!, isn’t it charming! Oh my God! What a beauty!’

‘Quiet, please! We’re going to be fired straight away!’ hushed her Elena.

‘Not both of us together! Someone has to do the job! Ah? That's it!’ reasonably objected Susan, carefully examining a small bell.

‘It's from the Washington Cathedral.’

‘Elly, thank you so much! It’s so beautiful! My collection will soon deserve a personal exhibition—“Bells from Cathedrals of the World”! Would you come?’

‘Well, of course. For sure. Just get me, Sue, dear.’

‘I got it that everything was fine with the cultural program’, Susan carefully put the bell down on the table. ‘Is there anything else you could tell me?’

‘I’d say so, you also need to use the services of this travel agency. Su-san, this is something unimaginable. I had never ever had such impressions from trips…’

‘Elena, Susan, good afternoon,’ greeting the ladies, a tall dark-skinned man dressed in a business suit and tie entered the office. ‘What’s the status of the report? Elena, I see you've had a good holiday. I am very happy for you. Now, as they say, recharged and back to work. The report for September will be ready, as I expect it, today.’

‘Good afternoon, Gustavo. Thanks. Yes, I am very happy with my holiday.’

‘I'm glad, Elena. Very good. What about the report? I’d like to have some more information, please.’

‘We plan to finish the work this week, Gustavo.’

‘I need a final version, not a draft, by Friday. Early next week, we report on the results to the council, so, ladies, I ask you not to let me down. Agreed?’

‘Of course, we will do everything by Thursday.’

‘Good. If there are any problems, I’ll be in touch. It is an important matter. So if…’

‘Got it, Gustavo. Thanks.’

‘Well, that's done! Back to work then!’

V-Tours

‘Good afternoon. Please come in. How can I help you?’

‘Hello. A friend recommended your agency to me,’ Susan handed the manager a business card that Elena gave her.

‘Ah! Of course! Are you Susan? Elena Vega told about you.’

‘Yes, that's right. I just wanted to understand first of all how your company works. Which destinations you may offer then. But for some reason I couldn’t find any information on the internet.’

‘Susan, please come in. Make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you water, tea or coffee? Maybe you prefer fresh juice?’

‘Thanks. Water, no gas, please.’

‘Of course. Just a minute.’

‘You are right, Susan, given the unique profile of V-Tours, the experience that we offer to our clients, we really do not advertise our services widely. V-Tours relies on the feedback of those customers who have already experienced our service and are ready to share it with their friends and acquaintances. This is the way we develop our business, put up the number of our customers. In simple words, recommendations of our customers drive our development. So, as you can see, the reputation of our company is much more than just the budget spent on an advertising campaign. We are glad that your friend recommended V-Tours opportunities to you.’

‘I got it. Good. But which way, in such a case, can one still understand in detail what exactly the specifics of your agency's work are? Why it is unique, as you are saying? Elena said that you will tell and show me everything.’

‘Of course. After all, that's why you came to us.’

The manager handed Susan something like a motorcycle helmet—except that there was no recess, no cutout for the eyes. The front part of the white cast helmet ended, apparently, somewhere at the level of the nose. At the same time, it was very light. The interior upholstery stood out with a bright blue fabric.

‘What is it?’ Susan asked, turning the helmet in every direction

‘A working prototype of a neuro-communicative interface. To some extent, its functionality is similar to a virtual reality headset. Only in our case, virtual reality will seem nothing more than a primitive children's game from the last century. To understand what we are offering, you can put on a headset and we will give you a presentation. Make yourself comfortable in this chair. The entire presentation will take no more than two minutes. It will be more than enough to understand the capabilities and potential of this device. As they say, seeing is believing.’

The silent grandeur of the Grand Canyon in Arizona was there, right in front of Susan. The bright sun was dazzling. Susan took her sunglasses out of her bag. The sky, so deep that one plunged into it in an endless and free fall. She was almost off the ground. Deep chipped channels reliably testified to the violence of the elements that once dominated there millions of years ago. But like everything with a seemingly infinite energy of life, the height originally taken in the battle with time, was given in. The inevitable and irrevocable course of time is truly determined by only one key law: the transformation and connectivity of everything. At the starting point the end of it is set up. Descendants should draw a conclusion from another lesson presented by nature—everything changes, and everything has a limit, regardless of our ambitions.

Susan shuddered—the silence was cut by the call of a faithful predatory guardian assigned to keep order in the canyon gorges. Looking around, disoriented by the flow of her own emotions, the newborn tourist noticed a bird soaring high in the streams of warm air rising from the crevices. Stepping back from the glass fence on the stone ridge, she turned her gaze to the bright brown observation deck. The morning sun, generously flooding everything with its rays, has already heated the rocky surface. Susan was alone on the observation deck. In the distance, a little lower, there was one capsule in the parking lot which apparently brought her there. She turned back towards the canyon, trying to memorize everything in all the detail and absorb every little aspect. Coming closer to the glass barrier, Susan looked down over the fence. The earth began to rapidly approach …

As though waking up, Susan got back to her senses. Around her was nothing. Void. All black. Realizing that the headset was still on, she carefully took it off.

‘Oh dear… What is it… What's it?’ Susan looked around, trying to get over it. ‘I… where am I?’, Susan turned her head in complete confusion.

‘Susan, it's all right. Look at me. You're safe. It's all good. You're right where you were. It's only been a few minutes. We are in the office of V-Tours. Here, take it, please… Drink some water.’

‘This is something amazing. I can't describe my feelings. I was there! In the Grand Canyon in Arizona! I was there physically, feeling with my skin what was happening, breathing in the air…’

‘Yes, it's a fantastic experience. And on the other hand—what do you remember? It's like you've just been to Arizona in the Grand Canyon. Like a tourist who reached his destination on the journey. It was perfectly natural. You were just there.’

Susan burst into laughter:

‘I can't believe it! How did you do it?!’

’It's just… a revolution in travelling… Perhaps not only travelling. In short, Susan, thanks to the recommendation of your friend, you have experienced a new development that will change the world beyond recognition. Soon, it won’t be long till we live in a somewhat different world. We don't even know how. We yet haven't realized the full potential of this technology.’

‘My God! This is some kind of fiction! I was there!’

‘The system of neuro-communicators built into the headset scans the biorhythms of your brain, makes an electromagnetic connection and puts you in a state similar to stasis. This is when your body is in a complete blackout. Your sense of reality, all your receptors are completely blocked, but the brain activity is as high as ever. At this moment, our system works in such a way that you, your brain cannot distinguish the real from the unreal, being in a state of pseudo-stasis. It would take you one day to get to the Grand Canyon from Madrid. Not to mention how much effort and time it would have taken earlier. Now all what is needed from you today is to sit in a chair with a headset on. I cannot but note that this development would not have been possible without the defining role of the PAX artificial intelligence. And all the calculations and assessment of what you have seen is done in the cloud by the power of the system.’

‘Some kind of virtual reality!’

‘I would say, Susan, this is a new reality or, at least, an alternative reality.’

‘It's getting a little scary. I'll tell you what.’

‘This is partially the reason why we are in no hurry to make our capabilities known widely. It is already obvious that this stage of active testing is coming to completion. And it will be pretty soon. Let me get down to business anyway. Where would you like to spend your holidays, Susan? What are your preferences?’

Before: Politics

‘A small entity cannot absorb a large one. Or is it possible? Who knows, who knows. Which of these two can come out the winner? Who has a character, who hardens it, and who just happened to be born bigger,’ Robert stared at the fish in a fish tank in his office, twirling a can of worms in his hands. Aquatic inhabitants, who not for once had witnessed important meetings and negotiations in the home office of the owner, were used to receiving encouragement for exemplary behaviour in the form of a daily portion of live food. But that day something changed. There was no reward. ‘What’s wrong?’ the fish were asking a dumb question, looking closely at the changing shadows behind the barrier of their habitual habitat. ‘Today, friends, you have to figure out who is a wolf and who is a sheep. Who will rule and who will serve. Today we have to dot all the i’s. And it’s time for you, my devoted protégés, to pay your bills. No free ride. Have taken something, be ready to pay. Sooner or later.’ Robert tapped the glass of the tank with the knuckle of his index finger—the fish scattered in different directions. ‘Let’s see who wins this time!’ he closed the can of worms without throwing them any, and put it in the bar fridge built into the base of the tank.

‘See you tomorrow. Or maybe goodbye,’ Robert’s lips twisted in the semblance of a smile. He went to the bathroom, next to the office, to clean himself up before leaving.

‘Damn it! Just now I could have failed miserably!’ returning abruptly to the office, he took a pen from a pencil glass and a block of stickers on the table and wrote in a flamboyant hand: Do not feed! RR ‘No, not like that! Bad!’ Robert looked critically at what he had just written. He sat down at the table and carefully wrote on a yellow sheet—Do not feed! Stressing the instruction, he added: RGR. Leaving the office, he stuck a sticker on the wall of the fish tank and slammed the door behind.

In the bright light of a dressing room, his legs wide apart and hands on his hips, Robert was trying to figure out: ‘What to choose? Which accents will be right today? That’s the million-dollar question…’ He began to examine the racks of clothes methodically, his feet sinking into the light cream carpet covering the floor of the room. On the left side, on white shelves up to the ceiling, there were all kinds of colourful sweaters, turtlenecks and jeans, tweed trousers and cotton clothing. A row of closed shelves separated a large compartment with casual shoes, containing sneakers and running shoes, flip-flops and boots. Robert was critically examining his reflection in the mirrors in the central part of the dressing room. Regular work-out over the past two years had done their job. He was slim and fit, in good shape. But not over-dried and, even more important, not pumped up. ‘Not too much and just enough. I think it’s the right way. But, of course, we will go on exercising.’ His gaze moved on. A compartment with shirts in two long rows: white, light blue and various shades of blue on top, several light grey and pink; from below—in variegated colours with all sorts of prints, from classic paisley to trivial checkered shirts. In another divider, all kinds of accessories were stored—ties, bow ties, various belts, scarves and so on…Then again a large row with shoes, but this time of more reserved shades when occasions demand so. The second to last compartment contained multiple suits and dinner jackets. The sanctuary of the owner’s style was rounded out by a wardrobe with outdoor pieces, jackets and coats, down jackets, sheepskin coats and all kinds of winter clothing items. ‘I don’t think I’m going to need a hat today.’

‘What’s the weather like today, Joe?’ Robert asked his digital assistant.

‘Robert, it’s going to be great weather in Central London today. It’s sunny all day. Now the temperature is 19 degrees. During the day, the maximum temperature will reach 26 degrees.’

‘Good. And what would you advise me to put on, Joe?’

‘Unfortunately, Robert, I’m not ready to help you with that. I can find the contacts of a stylist who will be useful to you with a wardrobe. Should I complete this task for you?’

‘No,’ Robert replied thinking, ‘I don’t need a stupid stylist with a loopy advice, what I need is an image verified to the smallest detail that does the job.’

‘Okay. Let’s be logical. The meeting is rather semi-formal. Although, of course, it is important. A café full of tourists does not imply the expediency of a suit. It’s hot outside. Brown shoes, blue jeans with a brown belt, light brown polo. Pink socks will emphasize a liberal mood. A watch. Which watch to wear?’

‘So, let’s see what we have here…’ Robert came up to the shelf on the right and pulled out one of the drawers. In each cell of a large rectangular wooden pallet there were watches: mechanical, golden, steel, with straps made of leather or steel, sporty, with precious stones, round, square, rectangular, plastic… The electronic watch faces, powered by a wireless charger built into the box, were showing the synchronized time – "07:44".

‘It’s so much stuff in here… What to choose?!’ Robert carefully examined the rows of watches, matching the thought out style for the upcoming meeting with an important accessory.

‘I don’t know… I’ll make a neutral choice. An electronic watch in a gold case. Let it be so.’

‘Joe, what’s the temperature in this room? I’m a little hot.’

‘Robert, the current temperature set in the dressing room is 23 degrees,’ the assistant replied. ‘Shall I make it one degree lower to 22?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘All right, Robert. Thank you.’

Having dressed, Robert critically examined himself in the mirror:

‘There’s something wrong about all this. Stupid shoes. Need them more casual, but also brown. These classics are too pretentious. The belt doesn’t fit either. Need a simpler one.’

‘What do you think, Joe? How, is it? Everything OK or should I fix something?’

‘Robert, please specify what you mean.’

‘I see.’

Robert went down to the living room on the ground floor, where Antonio was relaxing on the sofa. Frames of the morning news show were changing on the screen on the wall. The guest in the studio was trying to be convincing while explaining something to the host in the studio, who, apparently, was not very happy with the direction the conversation was taking.

‘What kind of a weasel is that man, Antonio?’ Robert asked.

‘Who knows. I have no idea. Anyway, it is important for me to understand how the presenter will carry on with him. It is quite possible that we will also need to get into the program. So I’m trying to read it,’ Antonio picked up the communicator and started making notes.

‘Look at me—is everything all right?’

‘What’s the matter, Robert?’ Antonio turned to him. ‘Oh. I see. Antonio got up from the sofa and walked over to his boss, examining him from head to toe. ‘Well, I can tell you, I think everything is fine. Although… Wait… rather, you know, too good. It’s too proper or something. We need a slight imperfection. Maybe let the polo out of the jeans? Eh?’

‘No, it would be too informal.’

‘Well, actually, yes. I agree, Robert. Then here’s what. I know. We need to change the watch. Keep it simple and out of place.’

Robert looked at the chosen watch:

‘Okay. Good. Then, the best choice is up to you.’

‘Of course, in a moment,’ Antonio replied and went into the dressing room. ‘As you know, every detail is important in our business!’ climbing the stairs, he shouted out.

‘So it’s exactly the problem, that I know…’ muttered Robert.

Barel, who was sitting in the kitchen and reading the news, looked at the boss, distracted by their conversation with Antonio:

‘Good morning, boss,’ he said in a loud voice.

‘Oh, hello, Barel. I didn’t notice you. Everything OK?’

‘Well, yes. It’s all good. The weather is great today.’

‘Now, that’s fine, Barel. We’re going for a little walk today.’

‘Yes, boss. Meeting with the Chinese guys at 12:30?’

‘So it is.’

‘What do you prefer, boss—by tube or by capsule?’

‘It will be hot on the tube. We’ll drive somewhere closer to the meeting place. And then I’ll walk. And you have to stay in the car, Barel. I’ll go with Antonio.’

Barel looked at Robert:

‘If I must, then I must, boss. Whatever you say. Anyway, I’ll be there. I think there shouldn’t be any problems.’

‘I’m positive too. But, as our old friend used to say, the best improvisation is prepared improvisation.’

‘He was right, your friend, boss.’

Robert smiled.

Parliament

Barel, having made sure that everyone was in place and ready to go, took a seat on the first row in the capsule—the car smoothly started accelerating. On the control panel, he double-checked the route and microclimate settings for the drive. Everything as Robert prefers: 22 degrees, active filtration and ionization of the intake air, noise reduction and silence in the cabin. Then, his task was to look around and to not interfere.

‘Robert, should I go through the main points of the conversation as we’ve outlined it?’ Antonio asked.

‘Listen, everything is going to be as usual—no matter how many times you repeat, nothing will go according to the plan.’

‘This is, of course, true. But the key issues should be worked out in any case.’

‘I do remember everything perfectly, Antonio. Don’t you worry. Last night I double-checked everything and thought it through again.’

‘All right, boss. Whatever you say.’

‘He calls me boss when he feels hurt or when he’s nervous,’ Robert thought. ‘Everything all right with my fishes? Have they sorted it out among themselves or are they yet pretending to be civilized…’, he plunged into thoughts, looking at the houses in the streets of London on their way.

A new page in his life history opened with London. Robert’s parents decided to try their luck in the States in the middle of the 21st century, emigrating from the UK to Los Angeles. As it sometimes happened to the middle class English aristocracy, the inheritance received by his mother did not provide even for paying utility bills in their estate, not to mention the maintenance of the ancestral nest at the adequate level. His mother was convinced of her innate artistic talents, but she believed that European venues would be too cramped for her…and it was not for her pure-blood baroness status, to measure herself against the so called local élite, as she used to say, asserting herself. A different matter altogether was the Olympus of Hollywood, with its boundless potential of studios that have written their names into the walk of fame of the world film industry. In the end, the house was sold, and they left for the west, full of new expectations. She was deeply and genuinely surprised though with things going wrong there, in the New World as well. To be fair, for the rest of the Richardson family, who remained to languish on the ever foggy island, the news from the other side of the Atlantic was not a surprise. The newcomers had to move to the suburbs of Los Angeles, Emily began working as a sales assistant in a local shop, and her father, never finding himself in the new world, could not stand new challenges and took to drinking. Robert’s uncle, Emily’s brother, who remained at home in England, managed to get back on his feet and achieved a certain position. He was well versed in marketing and being a good psychologist found his vocation as an excellent PR man, combining in his practice an understanding of the laws of perception and clients’ business interests. Later he opened his own agency in London. It was Uncle Oliver who invited his young nephew to London and agreed to pay for his studies at one of the best business schools—Oxford University. There was only one single condition—having graduated, Robert had to join his uncle’s team and develop the company together with him. Later, however, other circumstances of the deal came to light, which Robert did not suspect initially. Finding himself in the middle of the capital for the first time as an adult, Robert fell in love with its imperial greatness, inspired by the history of great conquests, financial ambitions and achievements, political intricacies. To a young man who grew up in the City of Angels, London appeared to be one of the pillars of the modern world.

‘Boss, from here you have to walk about three hundred meters to the restaurant where you

will meet the Chinese partners. Antonio, do you know where to go?’ Robert, who nearly slipped into slumber during the smooth movement of the capsule, was stirred by Barel.

‘Of course, I know where we should go, Barel. Although I am not a local, I try to do my job professionally.’

‘Don’t get so nervous, Antonio. I am just doing my job, like you are. Not joyriding’

‘That’s it. All right, Barel. Thanks. Let’s go,’ getting out of the car, Robert waved his hand to the assistant.

Noisy and discussing enthusiastically the impressions of the morning hours, tourists filled in the entire space of the café. Antonio approached the waiter, said something, and they were promptly taken over to a table near the window where the two Asian people were sitting.

‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ Robert greeted them, extending his hand.

‘Ah! Here you are, Robert!’ the two Chinese stood up and greeted the new arrivals. ‘Please take your seats, Robert and your friend …’

‘This is my assistant, Antonio. Have you already made an order? They do excellent fish and chips here. I would strongly recommend it, gentlemen,’ Robert immediately wanted to make it clear who the master of the situation was, and who was only a possible contender for the position of the purse. ‘Thank you very much, Robert. We’ll probably stick to tea and biscuits. We have a busy schedule today,’ the Chinese man was clearly making Robert understand that his cheap tricks were not working on them.

‘Of course, Heng. And we’ll go for fish and chips. Antonio?’

‘Yes, Robert,’ Antonio raised his hand, calling the waiter over.

‘So, Heng,’ Robert continued, ‘how do you like the view?’ Robert waved to the window looking at the Palace of Westminster.

‘The Parliament is very beautiful and certainly grand, my dear friend. It’s very kind of you to invite us here for tea.’ Heng nodded, smiling slightly, confirming with a gesture his readiness to carry on a dialogue. His thick and grey hair stood out unruly and a little funny on his head. Both Heng and the young girl accompanying him were dressed in formal business suits. Moreover, it seems that they’ve bought them quite recently, they were new.

‘Thank you. We are glad to see you and are glad to have the opportunity to discuss business. So you say you’ve been in London for some time now?’ Robert looked at the girl.

‘Not really, Robert,’ Heng replied, ‘we’ve arrived only a couple of days ago. But, as I mentioned, the agenda is very tight. Certainly you understand, our main task is to consider the risks and make…take the right decisions. Talking about politics, obviously, the right strategy would be some diversification, so to speak. Of course, for such an approach one need a certain level of resources and assets.’

‘I quite understand you, Heng. Betting on one horse…’

‘Okay, Robert. It is important that we are open with each other here, and can dot all the i’s and cross the t’s. May I ask you, Robert, what is your plan? The general line?’

‘That’s why we’re having this meeting. The plan is simple. Step one. In a year and a half, as an independent candidate, I will enter this symbol of legislative power. Step two. In the next cycle, I plan to enter another door with a well-defined street name and a house number.’

‘And in which capacity are you planning to take your second step, dear Robert?’

‘As the host of the house, Heng. You shouldn’t have given up the fish after all. They do it great here.’

Heng paused for a few seconds, assessing Robert.

‘You have a very clear strategy, Robert. But aren’t your plans too hasty?’

‘My plans have, as I expect, quite a tangible basis. Isn’t that right, Heng?’ Robert began eating with his fingers and somehow, the process seemed quite aesthetically pleasing.

The Chinese took a cup of tea and looked away in the direction of the Houses of Parliament.

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ Robert asked.

‘Yes, the history of your country, Robert, certainly deserves a careful study,’ Heng replied. ‘You are aware of our goal. We think about our interests.’

‘Of course. As well as all the parties to this process. Finding the right balance is the subtlety.’

‘That’s right, Robert. And faith alone, as you may assume, is not enough to understand how the parties could interact.’

‘All right, Heng. I will briefly outline our expectations and our understanding of the value of the parties involved. First of all, I agree with you—the plan I mentioned does not really contain details, but obviously we understand in a quite tangible way which direction to take and how to proceed. My life story, professional practice clearly shows how we achieve results. And, of course, what results can be counted on. But may I assume that we wouldn’t have this discussion with you here were it not for your forecasts and models clearly demonstrating to us what we are talking with you about,’ the assistant nodded her head.

‘Then, the second point. Why we believe that it is in this negotiation format that we could be useful to each other. We need a slightly different resource basis. Not the one you mean, dear Heng. The events that I experienced in my life, which in fact shaped me, as well as my previous activity focus when I was involved…so to say, in relationship marketing—in a word, this basis gives me a clear understanding of how we will achieve our goal. We need access to an analytical resource that is not burdened with imposed restrictions. That’s the key question. The base you are talking about is just an additional pleasant bonus. Nothing more.’

Heng blushed and stopped chewing cookies. He was clearly making a lot of effort to keep himself under control. Heng quietly said something to his assistant in Chinese. She got up and went somewhere.

‘Very well, Mr. Richardson. What do you suggest?’

‘It’s obvious. Our countries should be much more active in fulfilling the potential of co-operation, which does not manifest itself in any way today,’ Robert looked at his counterpart, who seemed not ready for such a conversation at all. It was obvious that he also did not have the authority to take any such obligations either. But no one would have expected it, to be fair. He knew that the guy sitting opposite was only an intermediary—such were the rules of the game.

‘I understand,’ Heng took a napkin and wiped his lips. ‘If we go back a little. As you called it—the resource base that you mean. I would assume that the deal won’t work without this component.’

Robert was holding a glass of apple juice with ice obviously in a completely unnatural way—his two fingers were turned in the direction of Heng. Heng, unable to restrain himself, with his eyes widened, blushed again. Robert smiled.

‘Well, Mr. Richardson. I have only to thank you for the meeting. You’ve chosen a great place to talk,’ pointing towards the window, Heng noted, bowing slightly. ‘All the best to you.’

Tourists were flowing in. New visitors were crowding at the entrance, wishing to enjoy the view of the buildings of the Palace of Westminster with its hundreds years of history at lunch. Next to the table where Robert and Antonio remained sitting, a group of teenagers settled down, vividly discussing something with the outbursts of swearing of all the possible sorts from time to time.

‘Why wouldn’t you eat fish? Really very good.’ Robert took a napkin and began carefully wiping his greasy hands.

‘Have you had too much, Robert?’ Antonio took wet wipes out of his bag and handed them to his boss.

‘Thanks. What do you mean?’

‘You know what.’

‘An eight-digit number of the resource base or something?’ Robert smiled.

‘That’s right.’

‘First of all, they need us much more than we need them. We can do without them, as you know well. But they won’t without us. So, we have nothing to lose if friendship is not in place. Then I thought I should take care of you, too. Let’s see what decision our Chinese friends will make.’

Robert looked across the river at the parliament: ‘Today, bathing in the sun, it shines like never before, reflecting the rays of power and greatness. We will definitely come back to the conversation with this Kim. He will remember this meeting for the rest of his life, and I won’t even recall his name.’ Robert felt excited.

Cheremkhovo

Two hours after the tedious flight from London to Irkutsk, and finally Antonio took a transfer to the hotel in the city centre by an air taxi drone. He was alone in the car—nothing prevented him from taking a bird’s-eye view of the Siberian city where he was for the first time.

‘What’s the temperature outside, … taxi?’ having decided how to put it, Antonio asked a question.

‘It is currently 29 degrees plus in the city center. It’s not going to rain today,’ the digital assistant replied.

‘How much longer will it take us to fly to the hotel?’

‘The journey to the Siberia hotel will take no more than 12 minutes.’

‘OK.’

The city center with high-rise buildings stood out ahead in a light haze. Skyscrapers tore apart the horizon, piercing the cloudless sky with sharp spikes. Antonio looked down. Apparently, they were flying over the suburbs of Irkutsk. Private houses, wrapped in a green blanket of foliage, were gradually thinning out, giving way to modern multi-storey residential quarters, through which groups of church domes could be seen in the distance. Their golden arches dazzled the eyes, reflecting the sun rays. He has counted at least six churches already.

‘And where is Lake Baikal, taxi?’

‘Lake Baikal will be on the left side all the way through the flight of the drone. But at this altitude you will not be able to see Lake Baikal. We will soon fly up to the Angara River. I can give you a sightseeing tour of the city center.’

‘Not this time. I don’t have time for this.’

Antonio was pleasantly surprised. He expected to see a provincial town in the middle of nowhere, but there was Brussels or maybe Munich in front of him. Only the Orthodox churches along the way would not let anyone to be misled about the city origin. The well developed infrastructure of the modern centre, surrounded by cosy and green suburbs of one of the largest Siberian cities, fascinated Antonio.

The taxi flew up to a high-rise building, on which roof he noticed a landing spot marked with circles. The taxi slowly started to descend. As soon as the hum of the electric motors died away, a hotel employee approached the drone.

‘Mr. Vidalgo, welcome to the Siberia Hotel.’

‘Good afternoon,’ Antonio replied. His headphones with a built-in translator on, he could communicate with others, continuing to speak English and understanding perfectly his interlocutors.

‘Did you have a good flight? Can I help you with your luggage?’

‘Thank you. Everything is OK. I only have this bag.’

‘Of course. Will I take you to your room or would you like to go down to the lobby?’ the hotel employee asked checking.

‘Straight to the room, please.’

‘Very well, Mr. Vidalgo. Would you follow me, please.’

While waiting for a guest in his room on the fortieth floor, Antonio ordered coffee to cheer himself up a little. Initially, the meeting was supposed to take place not far from Irkutsk, in Cheremkhovo, which had a rather ambiguous reputation. Earlier, over a hundred years ago, coal was mined there. But today the fate of the town was related to completely different opportunities. Cheremkhovo was considered to be one of the world’s informal hacker centers. It was possible that such a fame was to some extent supported and cultivated by certain government agencies. They said that the Russian security services were related to the activity in Cheremkhovo. It would be naïve to assume that the authorities did not know what was going on under their very noses. Most likely, once a free and informal community of talented programmers got close or was forced to make certain contacts with the state. But it didn’t bother Robert at all. So it shouldn’t bother him either. And yet Antonio preferred to hold a meeting in Irkutsk.

He came up to the window looking at the city centre, where cargo and passenger electric drones were flying in-between high-rise buildings along several air corridors. Each corridor was dedicated to movement in one direction only. From a distance, it reminded Antonio of ants’ paths where they would diligently carry all day long whichever sticks, bugs and larvae. The Angara River was visible between the buildings, its water surface illuminated with the bright sun, and pleasure boats and yachts gliding. For a moment it seemed to him that there was something familiar about the view—it was as if he were in his favourite bay in Naples. A knock on the room door brought him back to reality.

The guest, who introduced himself as Alexander, was sitting opposite Antonio in the living room at a round table in front of the window.

‘Won’t you mind my closing the blinds—the sun hits right in my eyes,’ Antonio approached the window and began to close the blinds.

Alexander continued to silently scrutinize his potential client, taking sips from a bottle of coke.

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