It seems to me that we can eat something other than synthetic food for this reason.
– Okay, you go, I’ll catch up.
Alexey launched a virtual fortune teller.
– What is the probability of life existing inside the nucleus of an atom?
– If there is a universe inside the atomic nucleus, then the Planck time will pass from its origin to its death. But I, honest fellow, cannot look below Planck.
Cassandra’s Hell
No sounds, no smells, just blinding light and an endless twisting staircase. She had already taken a thousand steps, but thousands of steps flowed from above. An hour has passed? Day? Century? It seemed like there was no time here. For the first time in her life, the future was hidden from her by an unknown curtain.
The long-awaited peak! She wanted to catch her breath, but a fair-haired man of about thirty with white wings and a halo above his head looked at her unfriendly.
– Don’t hold up the line. Your name.
– Cassandra.
– Well, well… Now let’s see.
The entire visible space is covered with an endless stream of letters and numbers, in different languages, large and small. Sometimes the symbols were interspersed with images. Not even a minute had passed before the chaotic movement ended. In front of the girl shone her own portrait and a short dossier written in Trojan.
– So-so. So she’s a soothsayer. Law 2, Article 18, Part 10. Does the Fifth Cauldron suit you?
– What?
– At the moment, Boilers Five, Three and Fourteen are vacant. Most of your compatriots chose the Fifth, so I recommend it to you.
– Yes, that will suit me perfectly.
Cassandra glanced fearfully at the stairs.
– Do not worry. It’s always easier to go down than to go up. It doesn’t take much effort to get to the bottom.
The elevator doors opened, and a few moments later the girl fearfully crossed the gates of her new home for the next eternity.
The shelves rushed into the sky (at a minimum, the heavens should have framed the blackness above). At the mahogany table sat a devil: typical. With horns, a pig’s snout, but in a tailcoat and tie. He looked at the girl over her horn-rimmed glasses.
– Your personal business.
Cassandra handed over a plastic card.
– So, Cassandra of Troy. Welcome to Cauldron Five.
The girl looked around uncertainly.
– Yes, that’s exactly him. Don’t worry, after the Age of Enlightenment and the Great Tartar Revolution, we no longer burn sulfur. Of course, the historical names have been preserved. But we now use more sophisticated torture on our prisoners. We give them another life. Would you like to become a scientist, doctor or teacher? Although, the profession of a scientist is most suitable for soothsayers.
– Thank you!
– Don’t rush to thank. There’s a lot you don’t know. Few people are able to look beyond the horizon. Among them are some who are brave enough to change the future. They are the ones who move our civilization forward in time. But the majority moves in the opposite direction, a kind of «flow of anti-time.» The higher the achievements of progress, the more opponents of moving forward, the more ordinary people degrade. But why, in fact, develop if you just stretch out your hand and all the benefits will fall into your palm? So, you will now become one of the Atlanteans, whose muscles hold the sky at a constant height, and whose will tries to move it as far as possible from people.
With a snap of her fingers, Cassandra disappeared into thin air. At that very moment, a girl was born in one of the maternity hospitals.
***
– Sash, bring dinner! I’m home from work, hungry and angry.
Light fumes: apparently, I didn’t go home straight away from work.
In the evening, Ilya habitually began clicking the buttons on the TV remote control.
– Maybe give up this science of yours? What does she give us? Maybe your theory of relativity will help you raise a mortgage? Or will superstring theory allow you to save up for a new phone? It would be nice if they did something useful. So who will refute their heresy about a twin sent into space at the speed of light? No one. First, we would learn to build high-quality rockets. Better yet, they would learn how to make gasoline cheaply. Who saw your superstrings? You can’t even clamp the barre on them like you’re supposed to.
– So you’ve never been to America. Maybe you think that on the far side of the planet, elephants stand on a turtle and hold a flat disk? If we follow your logic, then we can come to this conclusion.
– Maybe elephants keep a turtle. By the way, I found this video about turtles…
This is how every conversation between Alexandra Apollonovna Kassandrava and her husband (and not only with him) ended. During the day, she is a world-famous scientist, in her hands are the secrets of the Universe and the distant future is before her eyes. And in the evening there is talk about the low salary and the emptiness of her research. If Alexandra believed in karma, wouldn’t this be a manifestation of it?
Graveyard of the Immortals
The photographs are arranged in a row. People smile on them, as if nothing had happened: they broke up for a couple of days. They will return and say again: «Hello.» Who will say that all that remains of them is this photograph, name and date of birth? The candle smells like soot. Slavik decided not to turn on the electric light; a dim light on a moonless night would be enough. Just not to scare off the one who can put her hand on her shoulder. He will no longer see her, he can only feel her. Slavik examined Marina’s profile for the hundredth time and left a bouquet of roses on the wall. Red ones, just the way she loved them.
Previously, only the talented remained immortal. You can still leaf through the pages of the books of great writers of the past and plunge into their dreams and passions. Artists live in their paintings, and composers come to life in operas. But these days, immortality has become cheap. Next to a piece of the poet’s soul in his imperishable poem there may be a part of the one who shot the video of the dance near a moving car. Next to the opera diva’s track is the edited voice of a beauty who doesn’t hit even a few notes. They will all remain to rot in the digital world until the end of internet times. But in the real world, all that was left of them was ashes scattered to the wind. Only the richest can afford a place in the cemetery. But why do they need this in the era of biotechnology, when they can remain forever young and live until they get tired of it? A short life is only for the poor.
There was a rustling sound in the silence. Slavik is sure it’s her. Maybe now she will respond to the painted roses that he left in her profile on the «Cemetery of the Immortals» website?
«Thank you! I love you!» – as always, a short
