On the Wings of Hope: Prose by Prokhor Ozornin - HTML preview

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When a veil falls

He was the president of the country.

A large technologically developed state. Military technology, natural resources – everything was in plenty. The newest bacteriological weapon, keeping in awe all neighbors – he has even published a decree of its “authorized” usage in the begun war with frontline democratic “state”.

Democratic… damned fools! Pathetic liberals, benefactors of people! No, they simply didn't know the force of absolute power. Total dictatorship, complete control over every word and even thought of each inhabitant of your country… a feast for a whim! All scientific minds mobilized into the development of even more frightening and horrific types of arms… Single-handed decision-making, a will to execute and pardon… Daily hymns, sung to you in each house, each apartment… of course! – because the punishment for those found guilty is death – instant and painful death under the concentrated plasma stream.

There were no dissatisfied ones… or at least those, trying to openly declare it… Psychogenerators, scattered near borders of this country, did their job right – now he is free to force people to think how he desires. Mental waves of vast variety, last invention of psychophysics – and human is under your full control. Cause either elation, either hysteria, either unlimited aggression in which, being armed with newest “gizmos” of military technology, human became an almost universal machine of destruction…He could do everything. And he enjoyed it.

Has drowned in blood the revolt in the frontline island state. Has left lifeless desert on southern suburbs of his country, where hordes of the enemy have dared to intrude – the same whitish desert remained in all territory of the attacking state. Threatened to throw off the newest modification of psycho-neutron bomb on the neighbor, who was unwilling to yield convenient trade routes, having destroyed all mental potential of the pigheaded one – he gave up very quickly, having become the witness of demonstration of its possibilities in small scales…

He possessed all. Everything was below him – he was above everything. He was the president of the state…

***

Mechanics peep. Red measured words on the X-display screen – “Your account is empty. Please replenish your balance”. Damn! The end…Slowly unhooked from body sensors and controls, the neuro-pulse helmet, removed from his head. That's all. Game over…

A lonely thought, spinning in the head: “eat”. So… where is a food here? He has turned his head around. Oh, here… just near the terminal. A needle, inserted into a vein… very soon nutritious liquor will be soaked up and carried by blood through the organism – it should suffice for some days. Should suffice… a shrill sound signal… done. He has pulled out a needle.

So… he has rummaged around his pockets. Twenty credits… not enough… only for sixty-seventy hours… heck… no matter. A helmet, being dressed again. Heaps of wires and connections fitted to a body. A token put into a machine, which has greedily grasped it… Satisfied mechanics peep.

Start. The virtual world never waits.

***

City streets, lightened with lanterns. A signboard over one of many buildings – “Salon of virtual findings”. Hundreds of terminals over the walls. People, sitting in them.

Next terminal… a twitching man, braided by mechanics. A stream of saliva, slowly flowing down on a floor… The face is not visible – it's being covered by a small helmet. Peeps of equipment…

He was the head of the largest mafia organization…

02.06.2003