The Before Short Story Series. Part 1 - Иван Перепелятник Страница 47

Superconducting magnets of a new generation, operating at normal room temperature, made compensation for contact friction during the movement of the shuttle unnecessary too—the body of the vehicle did not come into contact with anything other than rarefied air. It levitated.

It was frequently, hundreds of times that Thomas was travelling by shuttles in different parts of the world.

Each of these trips did not cause him just a feeling of childish unrestrained delight. Born at the time when the speed of the most advanced ground vehicles did not exceed half of what the main underground system offered at present, he understood an extent of the powerful economic potential that the new infrastructure would allow to realise. He was fascinated by the possibilities of cooperation and interaction between artificial and human intelligence, at the same time frightening him to a piercing cold sweat in the middle of the night, when he would woke up from another nightmare fantasy in the fashion of universal armageddon. Thomas could navigate in the current trends of technological development well enough, and he was frightened by the prospects and potential of the possibilities of the PAX quantum system.

A widespread automation of work processes, and not only mechanical or implying low-intellectual operations, was increasingly pushing people to the sidelines of economic relations. Of course, overall performance in most applications would be higher than human performance. True, people adapted, developed professionally, focused on more complex tasks involving a creative approach with each generation to come, but the pressure of AI was only increasing. Thomas could hardly feel at all himself being overwhelmed by these fears. As an expert in the technological field, it would have seemed right for him to be at the forefront of the advocates of the new order of things. And he was such an icon and a herald for everyone. At the same time his inner voice was getting its own way.

In line with the Bild corporate regulations, where one of the key rules was—Confidentiality. Confidentiality. Confidentiality– the media holding considered it reasonable for its employees to travel on business in individual multi-seat compartments when going by underground shuttles or airplanes, although such precautions were much more expensive compared with the cost of even the first class. Information leaks already result in multimillion losses to the company every year. I will not save on several hundred thousand euros to lose even more—editor-in-chief Jasha Kapra

used to say defending an unreasonable expense item in front Bild auditors.

Next to the entrance to the Thomas’s team compartment, on the information screen current speed and point on the general route were displayed in rapid succession.

They just managed to leave the train station, not even a couple of minutes had passed—400, 450, 500 km/h… ‘No wonder,’ Thomas thought, ‘considering that in two and a half hours we should already be in Moscow.’

‘Peter, well, what did you find on our star? Would you share your insider information,’ Thomas asked the assistant, taking his computer out of the bag.

Peter and Anna were sitting opposite Thomas at the table, where it was convenient to do some paperwork or view news feeds from information agencies on a tablet. The design of the shuttle did not imply the necessity of passenger windows—the train was moving in underground tunnels, and any structural additions affecting the integrity and rigidity of its body did not offer benefits for reaching high speed. There was a large panel mounted on the compartment wall facing the passengers for for their entertainment and leisure. It was possible to choose anything to one’s personal preference: from news channels to car simulators, where it was possible to measure virtual driving skills with fellow travellers. Peter switched on his tablet, displayed information from it to the panel for greater convenience of the colleagues, and began telling the story.

‘Alexandra Tokareva. 53 years old. Liveth with a friend in Moscow. She graduated with honors from two of the best universities in the world—the Novothibirthk Univerthity in Russia and MIT in the U.S. In the scientific community, she hath a reputation as a high-clathth specialitht. She patented a number of inventionth in the field of big data analythith’—Alexandra’s photos from various scientific events, short videos with her speeches at conferences were displayed on the screen. ‘Well, Thomas, you’ve already read and theen all this.’

‘Of course, I’ve read it. Dee gathered this information for me without much difficulty. D’you have anything I don’t know, Peter?’

‘I think, yea.’

An image of two elderly people appeared on the screen—a man and a woman. Judging by the surroundings, the photo was old and taken a long time ago.

‘These are Tokareva’s parents. I do not know why, what the reason was, but they died before reaching even 100 years old,’ Peter looked at Thomas appraisingly, hoping to see, if not surprise on his face, then at least approval of such an important find.

‘That’s interesting.’

‘Ha! Of course! But it’s not all yet!’ Peter continued. ‘Apperently, her parents were divergents. The family moved to Novothibirthk just before Alexandra entered the univerthity. And where from would you think!?’ Peter theatrically froze waiting for an answer.

‘Well, where from then?’ Anna replied.

‘From Irkutthk! Irkutthk is far beyond the Uralth. There’th altho a famouth lake there. The world’s largetht lake with fresh water… uh, what’th the name…’

‘Baikal. I know where Irkutsk is. Don’t forget, dear comrades, I’ve studied in Russia for seven years. So you’re saying, Peter,’ Thomas continued, ‘that Alexandra’s parents lived in Cheremkhovo near Irkutsk in the centre of divergents?

‘That’th right!’

‘Great job, Peter! Well done, my dear!’

‘And it’th not the end yet! Wait to applaud! She had a younger