free of debris. I guess I’d rather keep silent. Or else he would be making fun of me. On the other hand, the scanner has not detected living beings. It’s not an easy task to hide a spacecraft even among big debris, so there is no reason to worry.” Hagan silently closed the door to the crew cabin, tipped back in his chair and began adjusting instruments for reconnaissance purposes.
Hagan had a passion for spacecraft engines. His brain fit out with nano-chips could easily model thermal processes and energy schemes of engines intended for flights to other planets. Sometimes, when he was carried away with his job, he would talk to his creatures, bringing his calculations to perfection. Creating ships for far-off space travel was his favorite job and the only passion. But was it possible to realize that dream while sitting in a tiny on-board engineer’s compartment?
At the moment, he was trying to push along current protocol of instruments operation so as to return to his favorite job and to plunge into his own world, the world of stunning powerful machines.
Meanwhile, the reconnaissance satellite “Hanuman-12” in close proximity of “Tyrant”, hastily adjusted the orbit, put weapons on alert and continued drifting amidst piles of debris, remaining unseen and unwinking.
In that way, by a twist of fate, “Ares” and “Tyrant” found themselves located at a mid-range distance between each other. “Ares” like a beast was watchfully observing its victim without giving itself away by means of dozens of scanners and surveillance satellites that “Tyrant” had unhappily come in sight of.
The "Ares" crew quickly made a decision to monitor the enemy and to keep it at gunpoint and then, while being unnoticed, take under control over all communication lines.
Chapter 8
“When having a controlled dream people can use their time for self-development.”
(A writer’s words at the forum of fantasy author. Early 21st century)
Upon Alex’s approach, the door of the medical compartment noiselessly opened and she underwent yet another decontamination procedure, which was compulsory before dipping into nano-gel.
A standard bio capsule was a silver spheroid installed in the center of a vast room illuminated with warm light from wall-mounted panels.
She came up to the unit, whose upper part softly lifted up, and nano-gel inside was glittering with bluish light.
All she had to do was just lie down in that bath and relax. A glass cupola smoothly closed above and Alex was wrapped around with soft, warm weightlessness of nano-gel. Unhurriedly, Alex got inside the capsule and instantly slipped into gravity-free state.
Gradually, slight sleepiness and detachment of consciousness got over her, and Alex, indulging in that state, started falling down somewhere. Some vague, elusive images and light spots were slowly sparkling before her eyes. Alex was well aware of the inconsistency of activities in controlled dreams and, having gone through a few preparatory stages, she mentally formed surrounding space and music.
Now that was splendid panoramic view of Outer Space. Numerous stars were slowly emerging and thickening out from light spots. And she set off drifting along the grandeur of Space, watching gaseous nebulae burst in blossom with wonderful colors, while the alluring light of stars and brightness of superstars engulfed everything around.
The eternal, like Space itself, mantra “OM” softly went into that reality, pervading the entire space and dissolving in it. One stunning picture was replaced with another. Alex was flying through the Eternity amidst marvelous stars. She felt overwhelming joy, happiness and tranquility.
And then, amid that beautiful reality, Frol’s voice uttered softly “Alex, synchronization.”
She felt slight movement in her brain owing to his presence. Close to her, a teenager figure gradually emerged; he was barefooted and dressed in a white loose knee-length shirt and white trousers. He was standing nearby, and his wavy red hair was slightly flapping in the unseen wind, and large blue eyes were sparkling with joy.
“I also love Space and enjoy listening to songs of our forefathers.” Frol gave a gentle smile “Mankind came from the stars. I’m pretty sure of that. Or else we would not be so attracted by Outer Space.” He came up to her and pensively said, “I can see plenty of contradictions in human beings, Alex. On the one hand, people love life but on the other, they are ready to destroy anything, even their home – the Planet. Let me show you something” and Frol began forming his reality.
A multi-voiced chorus singing mantra “ОМ” was replaced with organ music, and before their eyes reeled the blue surface of Oceans and a continent shoreline emerged from somewhere over the horizon. The picture began to slowly alter and soon Alex saw a black and white vision of soldiers wearing some odd uniform, seemingly without exoskeleton or any signs of body protection, except for iron semi-spheres on their heads. The figures of soldiers rushed out of a long hole in the ground and ran towards their enemy through smoke and explosions. They were armed with ancient weapons. Long gun barrels had wooden gun butts and knives at the end.
The running soldiers were suddenly covered with a wall of explosion, and Alex saw that many of them were left lying motionlessly on the ground. Some were crawling, having lost direction, while a few survivors kept up an attack.
“Now look at their leaders. I deliberately haven’t upgraded the file to show you the level of their technology of image recording. At the time, only monochrome format was available.”
Then she saw figures in uniforms and black suits, moving in a prideful manner and treated with reverence by other soldiers. They seemed to be crying out some angry words with respect to their enemies, pushing for war, while the surrounding mob responded with enthusiasm.
The technology of that time did not to permit to preserve their words. The important people were wearing lots of decorations and marks of honor of different size. All of them were bowing and smiling to other people also covered with decorations, then they all were sitting at a table served with natural meals and having talks. Special servants were waiting at the table.
Alex was looking wide-eyed at the picture. And Frol continued his account.
“That was the First War, it ended on its own accord. The world was divided unfairly, mostly in the interests of a tiny bunch of people who were in possession of all money.
Imagine that! Less than one percent of all humanity, and not of the most developed kind, could easily impose their will on such huge number of people. Monetary system! In cheating common people they got active support of those in charge of information. Those were monochrome sheets with letters called news-papers.
Thus, the system of money and method of ruling the World were stabled and started developing. That way, mankind moved ahead, depleting the Planet’s resources and undermining the environmental balance. All you’ve just seen they called vital values and taught to their children. However there were those who had a different opinion.” Frol made a pause.
The picture in front of Alex turned colored but still inconvenient for perception.
She was silently watching crude technologies utilized by people at those distant times: there were exhaust pipes emitting smoke all around as hydrocarbon technologies were on the rise. Rotary excavators were actively annihilating the Nature, mining valuable chemical raw materials. Those machines left behind dead lands, unfit for life. Seas and fertile soils were being destroyed, and the Planet was gradually turning into desert; people even competed in making that faster and more efficiently. That utter madness had nothing to do with real progress.
Science made no further steps to increase the technology level since it had been taken under control. That state of affairs was justified by the fact that people owing money strived to extract even more profit from depleting the Planet. The people of that time perceived that as success, and were quite pleased, believing that the Planet could forever endure such treatment. And then Alex again saw before her eyes figures of soldiers shod with boots marching in lockstep and looking with admiration at a leader standing at a podium.
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