… in which everything ends in a most unusual but logical way, the unrest ceases, the weather improves, and everyone finds something to do that they enjoy
Lyonya grabbed his pistol and fired several shots at the sinister image trembling in the air. But the bullets just flew through the ghost. Thinking that maybe he was just imagining things, the guy looked back at his companions. They stood rooted to the spot, watching the newcomer. Meanwhile, the officer put his hands in the pockets of his leather coat and leaned his back against the doorframe in a completely matter-of-fact manner.
"A waste of ammunition. They can't hurt me anymore," the ghost's voice still sounded as if it came from another world, but it became a little quieter. "You were warned... You should have obeyed if you want to leave here..." He paused for a moment. "Alive..."
"What are you waiting for, Pyotr Petrovich? Shoot!" Valya shouted, seeing that the scientist had already grabbed the emitter and aimed it at the strange visitor from the past.
"It's pointless," the NKVD officer shook his head. "Nothing can be changed now anyway. The only thing you can still do is get answers. They should be of interest to you..."
"That's logical," Pyotr Petrovich agreed. "Speak."
"I'm glad there are representatives of the technical intelligentsia here. I've always enjoyed talking to them..." The ghost glanced around at the people. "The device we are being in has a single function: to change the course of history. It not only causes the masses to move, but also transforms the very principles of their existence. It transforms social being. You could say that it is the embodiment of the ideas of the Revolution, clothed in the language of physics and electrical circuits.
"Isn't that a bit presumptuous? Do you think you're God?!" Leynya blurted out arrogantly.
"At most, a 'God from a machine'..." The ghost sounded tired and slightly condescending. "My consciousness is irrelevant... And so is everyone else's individually. But all together. I only serve the working class and am the conduit for the will of the workers."
"And if without the poetry? How did you do it?" the scientist asked firmly and, to confirm his seriousness, slightly moved the barrel of the emitter, which was still aimed at the officer.
The Chekist opened the flaps of his leather coat, took a cigarette case out of his inside pocket, and slowly lit a cigarette. The translucent, virtually incorporeal ghost somehow began to look more alive than the people listening to him.
"Everything you see around you is the final stage of the Egregore project, made possible by the genius of comrade Vernadsky and the successes of Soviet radio engineering. Its goal and task was to develop and use the near-Earth space, called the noosphere, for the needs of the national economy.
"That's something from philosophy, right?" Tolik interrupted.
"We were engaged in the practical application of this idea from a materialistic standpoint... As the comrade scientist correctly noted, the physical basis was the phenomenon of ultra-low frequency standing waves, which could encircle the entire planet, thus forming an information sphere. The ghost exhaled clouds of smoke, and an image of the planet appeared in the air, with radio waves pulsating endlessly between the surface and the upper atmospheric layer. "If we take into account the electrical nature of the human brain and think of it as a radio station, then the way was opened for the direct transmission of ideas into this space... and out of it.
"Brainwashing? I see..." Lyonya frowned.
"Not at all. The formation of a new form of thinking matter," the officer objected. "Unfortunately, not everyone understood our theories at the time. But before the work was shut down and the group liquidated, we managed to pump it up..." The possibilities were limited, but calculations suggested that the reliability of storage and retrieval would remain assured until the centenary of October. We had to wait a little longer. It took a combination of circumstances and the help of comrade Konstantin..." The Chekist nodded toward the corpse sprawled in the chair.
"What did you do to him? Did you torture him?" Valya asked.
"No. Comrade Konstantin acted entirely of his own free will. And selflessly, too... He went without sleep or rest for almost three days. Not everyone can withstand such a test. But he helped to start the installation... And then he intended to merge with the common field, to dissolve into the noosphere, but he simply became part of a high-frequency circuit. A sad fate that will not allow him to be reborn in the new world. Like me, he was destined to remain a prisoner of the device. A justified price for the common good. It seems that Konstantin was not very knowledgeable about radio technology... .
"But I do," said Pyotr Petrovich, unceremoniously pushing the corpse onto the floor and sitting down in the chair in front of the console.
Pulling a bundle of wires out of his suitcase, the scientist hastily connected his device to the connectors on the dashboard.
"Do you still want to stop the process? I thought I explained it to you in detail..."
"Explained what? What the hell is this new world? A justified price? The common good?" the angry girl exclaimed. "Have you even seen what's going on in the streets? People are killing each other!"
"Apparently, that's human nature," the officer said thoughtfully, looking away. "You want to eat even when you don't need to. And then you start devouring each other. But these are temporary difficulties. Children break their noses before they learn to walk, break their toys before they learn to appreciate them... Order begins with small things.
"But these aren't toys! These aren't small things! You're forcing people to break and destroy... each other."
— Force? No. For the first time, humans are given absolute freedom... Freedom from death. And everyone will decide for themselves what to do with it. The only difference is that now the very nature of things will become a teacher for people, teaching them to strive for creation.
"And what does that mean?"
"It means that existence, as before, determines consciousness... And in the new orderly world, everyone will surely find their place. What they are needed for. Their function. Isn't that a blessing?"
"But a person is not a function..."
"A person is their work. Only such an existence is meaningful. Only human work can make them immortal. My work was to complete the Egregore project. To turn the wheel of history back... The NKVD officer threw away his cigarette, straightened up in military fashion, and stood at attention, as if preparing for something. "That's why I'm so calm right now. And you're panicking... Just ask yourself, what have you done of value in the past week?
"We stopped you!
Tolya grabbed the emitter that Pyotr Petrovich had put aside and instantly sprayed microscopic particles at the ghost.
"Thank you, colleague. This chatter was distracting me," the scientist nodded approvingly. Now, taking off his coat and throwing it on the back of a chair, he feverishly twisted the knobs inside his suitcase, which was connected to the tower's radio transmission equipment. The strained sound, which made everything around vibrate, gradually began to fade. And the lights that periodically flashed in the air began to dim and disappear.
"Can you do anything?" asked Lyonya.
"In general... I already know how to tune into their carrier frequency. If we start to influence the system in antiphase, we might be able to weaken the signal..."
"A jammer. Brilliant!" exclaimed Tolik jubilantly, already sensing imminent victory.
"Thank you. Just hold the door! I don't think our resurrected comrades will leave us alone..."
These fears turned out to be not entirely unfounded. Through the gradually subsiding hum, the sound of several dozen feet running up the metal steps could be clearly heard. Cold air blew in from the staircase. Those who sucked out the heat for each of their movements were not long in coming. But as soon as pale, bloodied faces appeared in the doorway, Tolya pressed the emitter's trigger again. The X-ray pulse mowed down three or four zombies at once, who immediately fell over the railing and rolled down the steps.
Lyonya sent his electrostatic bullet after them. Hitting either a wall or someone's head in the dim light, the charge cracked with a bright blue flash. Again, the sounds of falling bodies could be heard.
After waiting for the capacitors to recharge, Tolya prepared to shoot again.
"Just a little more, colleagues," said Pyotr Petrovich, watching the curve writhing on the oscilloscope closely as he slowly turned the tuning knob. At the moment when the plastic circle clicked again and the triangle painted on it touched the middle line on the body, everything around fell silent. The greenish line on the round screen stretched into a straight line. The vibrations of the tower stopped. The air inside no longer resembled a liquid suspension; it had regained its transparency and lightness. The glow with which it had been "electrified" also disappeared. Now the laboratory was lit only by the lanterns they had brought and the flashes of the indicators. But the hurried, confused footsteps of the dead could still be heard on the stairs. A new wave of them was ready to break through the narrow doorway.
* * *
Tolik raised the emitter, aiming directly at the center of the black rectangular void. As soon as two figures appeared from it, he immediately pressed the button, wanting to cover everyone at once. But one body fell to the floor with a short groan in the beam of the flashlight aimed at the entrance. Only then the student saw that it was a pale, paper-thin, petite girl. Her white porcelain face with wide-open glassy eyes was frozen in surprise forever. The second figure immediately rushed to her. A sturdy old man with a shaved skull muttered something, pressing the cold dead body to himself, as if still hoping to breathe life into it, and then suddenly raised his bald head, stared intently at Tolik, and pointed a gun at him. The man's gaze, full of determination, was filled with despair and some kind of animal hatred. The guy pressed the trigger of the emitter again. The device was working properly. He was sure of this because he carefully counted the number of remaining charges in his head and heard the characteristic sound each time. But there was no effect. Tolik looked down at the trembling needle on the top panel, and in the next moment felt a bullet enter his stomach.
"Tolya!" Valya cried out, rushing to help her friend who had fallen backward, but the man stopped her.
"Stop! Don't move, bitches!" Veksel pointed the barrel of his pistol at everyone present. "The first one to move, I'll shoot right away. Move quickly to the side!"
"Don't worry, my dear," Pyotr Petrovich agreed conciliatorily, slowly raising his hands and moving away from the control panel in his chair.
"You don't understand what you're doing..." the girl decided to reason with the intruder.
"I understand everything perfectly well! I already lost my child once... And now I have a second chance. To be with my daughter... Do you think I'll let you, bastards, take her away from me?
Suddenly, another shot rang out. An electric shock ran through Veksel's body like a bluish web. The old criminal staggered and, grasping at the air with his hands, fell backward.
"It's a miracle... A real miracle... How could you, you bitches...?" Veksel croaked and fell silent.
Pyotr Petrovich slowly rose from his chair and cautiously approached the motionless body.
"Congratulations, dear Leonid Ilyich... It seems as you have now shot a living person."
Staring at the dead old man, the shocked Lyonya dropped the pistol from his trembling hand.
"Funny. You only grazed his shoulder. The main effect, apparently, was caused by the electric shock. His heart couldn't take it..." the scientist calmly summed up, taking the clenched PM pistol from Veksel's hand and picking up Lyonya's Nagant from the floor. "That's all..." How are you doing, Anatoly Efremovich? Are you still alive?
Tolya lay curled up in pain, reflexively clutching his bleeding wound. Valya and Lyonya sat him up, leaning his back against the instrument cabinet.
"He's breathing..." replied Lyonya.
"I'm afraid it won't be for long," said Pyotr Petrovich calmly, returning to the control panel.
"He needs to go to the hospital. We have to hurry!" urged the girl.
"I don't think there's any point in rushing now..." he replied indifferently and turned the adjustment knob even further. The curve on the oscilloscope jumped again and danced. A tremor ran through the feeders stretched across the tower.
"What are you doing?" We were going to save everyone..." Valya exclaimed, jumping up from her seat.
"That's exactly what I'm doing, young lady... I'm saving absolutely everyone, including your friend. Apparently, by reversing physical processes, the field not only regulates the movement of molecules, but also restores the structures of the body. It revives consciousness. This allows our undead friends to first perform complex actions and then think fully. A totalitarian comrade called it a new form of thinking matter. It's too beautiful an experiment to end...
"Now Petrovich has gone mad... Who knows what this radiation does to people? And these dreams, like reality... Could they have been prophetic? No, surely not..." thought Valya, and quickly assessing the distance to the control panel, she rushed to the wires to pull them out with all her might in one movement. But the scientist noticed her movement out of the corner of his eye, spun around in his chair like lightning, and pushed the girl away sharply. Clutching the coat on the back of the chair, she pulled it with her, fell to the floor, and froze again because a gun flashed in Petr Petrovich's hand.
"I don't think you're in a hurry to transition to a new physical state," the physicist said with an ominous smile. Leonid looked at him without fear, but with some regret, and asked seriously:
"Do you think that after so much bloodshed, your new world will be more fair?"
"It was justified suffering." A flawless calculation. Think for yourself... Who will perish in the chaos before the rest? Those who are the cause of the problems themselves. Inadequate drug addicts, degenerate alcoholics, senseless managers, and beggars of all stripes... The least adapted and useful parasites to society. A little later, it will be time for pathological rebels and stubborn conservatives. But the first to die, of course, will be the hipsters. Only those who are truly capable of something will remain...— Pyotr Petrovich leaned back in his chair with such a smug look that it became obvious he was referring to himself. "Remember, one eccentric said that we should develop not revolutionarily, but evolutionarily. Well, then we should all be proud that we have passed this natural selection.
"And what will happen to the rest?
"I suppose they will find a use for themselves... Under my sensitive guidance, of course.
"Will you make them change light bulbs for you?" Lyonya asked contemptuously, nodding at the superheterodyne transmitter glowing in the suitcase.
"It's useless to change light bulbs. Everything must be changed..." the scientist continued seriously. "The dead will do what the living lacked the will to do. They will build bridges and roads. They will restore factories. And who knows what else... When a person does not strive for self-destruction, he is capable of reaching any heights. Of realizing the greatest dreams..." He suddenly winked at the dejected guys. "Don't be down, colleagues! We did a great job this week. All that's left is to decide what to do next week. In the meantime... You are free to go. Don't worry about Anatoly Efremovich. You know I know how to take care of my research assistants... Take your coats if you want.
"Thanks. We'll dream of something great," Valya snapped.
Lyonya offered her his hand and helped her up, silently looking at the scientist and at Tolik, who was lying dead by the wall, and then picked up the fashionable woolen raglan coat from the floor and handed it to the trembling girl.
"Take your coat... Let's go home."
* * *
Armored vehicles slowly drove out of the square. Ragged and dusty people boarded buses in an orderly fashion. They no longer looked dangerous, but it seemed they still didn't fully understand what was happening. Lyonya tried to find Fagot in the crowd with his eyes, but he didn't see anyone who looked like him. Most likely, he, Petrov, and Vityunya had already been taken away to wherever they needed to go. At least, there were no more motionless corpses on the square.
Together with small groups of residents dispersing to their homes, the young people easily bypassed "building 3" and turned onto the familiar alley. No one paid any attention to them, as is usually the case on the street among streams of strangers passing each other. But for some reason, Valya felt like an empty space. And Lyonya seemed to feel the same way, because they traveled most of the way in complete silence.
They didn't talk at the station, or when they boarded the train for the return journey, or even once they were in the carriage. Snow-covered pine trees, snow-covered fields, and dusty, lonely stations flashed by the round window again. Only a few hours later, when the familiar outline of the radio engineering plant appeared on the horizon, unusually illuminated by bright lights, did the girl break the silence.
"Look, the plant is working... I only remember it being closed."
"So now it will come in handy," replied Leonid, and then added, "We're almost there."
"Yes."
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know," Valya shrugged. "Maybe I'll finally go to my parents. I'll find out how they are..."
"You mean, are they alive or...?" Leonid clarified, and immediately realized how awkward his question was.
"Or dead," the girl nodded. "What difference does it make now? They're still my parents..."
Nothing had changed at the station since their departure. Frozen trains stood on the tracks, and the wind blew dust onto the steps in the underground passages. After walking through the echoing corridors and crossing the cold waiting room, the friends found themselves on the station square.
The sky above the houses gradually began to brighten. Golden rays of sunlight broke through the clouds here and there. It seemed as if someone was continuing to turn the knobs, adjusting this world. Valya breathed in the sharp, frosty air, and suddenly her mind became surprisingly clear and bright, as never before. So much so that even her face changed.
"Do you think everything will be okay?" Leonid asked, noticing her calm and almost blissful expression.
"I hope so. What about you?"
"I... I hope we did what we had to do."
"But... He's a psychopath..."
"Maybe so... But he's a scientist. He knows what he's doing. And besides, if not Petrovich, then who?"
The guy's smartphone beeped in his pocket.
— The internet is working again. Life goes on.
Lyonya took the frozen phone out of his pocket and clicked on the notification in Telegram. Two photos appeared in the chat window that opened: a girl in a gas mask with the caption "Check it out! ELEPHANT!" and the same girl, but now in a selfie with a cheerfully laughing guy.
"What a jerk!" Valya smiled, and tears appeared in her eyes.
The round square and the streets leading off it gradually came to life. An ancient "one-and-a-half" bus rumbled past. A modern bus dropped off some people at the stop and drove on to complete its route. A stooped yardman appeared on the boulevard and began shoveling snow with a large plywood shovel.
"Got a cigarette?" he asked Lyonya when the guys caught up with him, and, receiving a negative answer, explained, "My head hurts like it hasn't dried out in a week."
He shyly adjusted his cap, under which a huge, crusty wound in his broken skull was visible.
"But look at what a day it is..." continued the yardman, clearly craving conversation. "Beautiful! It makes you want to work..." You're students, I suppose?
"Students," confirmed Lyonya.
"So, you're educated... What do you think I usually work with?
"A shovel... A broom.
"No, you don't!" the yardman said, offended. "I work with aesthetics! My broom is like an artist's brush. Just a tool. And I harmonize the surrounding space. I transform reality. Do you understand? I just realized this recently. I don't know how, but I realized it. You still have a lot to learn, student."
Leaving the philosophical housing and utilities worker with his work, the young people slowly walked further down the boulevard. Only Valya turned around for a second, for some reason wishing the yardman "Good health" as she left, and suddenly saw a familiar figure that horrified her. A little girl in a pink jumpsuit was walking along the parallel path, looking around in confusion.
"They say the dead have unfinished business..." Lyonya said thoughtfully. "I wonder how it is for the living? So, what now?"
"Let's try to do something useful..." replied Valya, stepping over a snowdrift piled up by the yardman and approaching the child.
"You're lost, aren't you? Don't be afraid. Come on, we'll help you find your mom..."