Island under the stars

"You're overexerting yourself, Captain."

Steven, startled, woke up and lifted his head from the keyboard. Although the voice seemed soft and pleasant, its impersonality was clearly audible. The entire team of wise heads decided that a delicate, slightly feminine, yet vague soprano with a lilting Slavic accent was the best possible choice. Steven had recently formed a completely different opinion – it gave him shivers every time he heard that voice.

"I can handle it, computer. You'd better speed up your work on the research samples." Steven grimaced as he watched the screen display the sluggish progress in examining the rocks collected on Mercury

. "I'm doing my best. I'm working at full speed. Besides, these results aren't urgent at all. They could just as easily be processed on Earth," the voice replied. "And my name is Jory. It was agreed that you should address me that way.

" "Okay, okay, Jory." Steven rose heavily from the desk and, crossing the small cabin, collapsed onto the bed. "Don't wake me again."

"As you wish." The computer's voice blended with the steady hum of the ship's operating machinery. Steven wondered for the umpteenth time what idiot had thought of giving the device a name. Such a stupid one, at that. But these meaningless thoughts didn't occupy the pilot's mind for long, and soon he was fast asleep.

* * *

Once again, Steven was treading on Mercury's rocky surface, sweating despite the air conditioning in his spacesuit. Not because of the high temperature, but out of pure fear of the sun, though it hadn't fully awakened yet, and the cosmonaut had some time before exposing himself to its scorching face. To the left stood the ship, its gaping black hatch inviting one to take refuge in the cool. On the other side, much closer, a rigid tent covered with a heat-resistant layer was set up. Greg stood at its entrance, motioning with his hand to urge his friend to take cover inside. Steven watched the brightening horizon. He knows he won't make it to the ship before sunrise, but he sets off in that direction anyway, ignoring his colleague who offers help. He doesn't know why. He's only a few dozen meters from the ship when Helios emerges from behind the horizon in all its divine splendor, bathing the world in a torrent of deadly fire.

* * *

Steven didn't check how long he'd slept. During the journey, he hadn't counted the passing hours or days at all—only the computer on the entire ship could provide the exact date and time, but the sole passenger never asked. Not knowing was better than the maddening slow countdown to return. At least in this, he agreed with the NASA psychologists.

"According to my calculations, it's high time to go to bed, Captain.

" "What the hell are you talking about, idiot, I just woke up..." Steven muttered under his breath, though he knew perfectly well what he meant.

It was impossible to expect a human to survive the three-year journey back and forth to Mercury alone in the emptiness of space and be fit for anything more than a garden ornament upon return. To prevent this, Steven dosed himself with mysterious pharmaceuticals every two or three days, lowered the ship's temperature, and, with a slowed metabolism, slept for 18 to 20 days. Of course, this was very different from the hibernation he'd seen in old movies, where a guy would lie down in a refrigerator that froze him to absolute zero and calmly emerge at the end of the journey. That would have been too easy. Steven's hands were furrowed with needle punctures, and he once vomited before bed after taking a stack of pills. But this way, at least he shortened the duration of the actual, conscious journey to about 100 standard Earth days. The computer always reminded him not to exceed the dosage of medication, because sleeping longer than twenty-something days could result in "unclear, dangerous consequences."

Steven, ignoring the computer's warning, lumbered to the corner of the cabin, where he performed some completely unnecessary but time-killing tasks in the bathroom. Finally giving up on hygiene, he ate breakfast and, lying on the bed, finished reading another book from his rapidly dwindling library of several volumes. For a moment, he considered playing chess with the computer, but decided against it. Throughout the entire day (he had already become accustomed to the conventional division of the day and the constant artificial light inside the ship and the blackness of space outside), Steven didn't even touch the scientific instruments, aside from the mandatory daily tests of his own body. He didn't really have to do anything here; he wasn't some qualified and brilliant scientist, and his role was limited to making subtle flight adjustments in accordance with instructions from the control center in Houston, a stay on Mercury, and later observing the sample research. He was a refined cross between an experimental Laika and a super-efficient soil sample collection robot. Moreover, sending humans to the next planet after Mars put the Americans ahead of the Chinese, even despite the failure to establish a station on the Moon.

Steven smiled as he recalled the president's wild enthusiasm when presented with the innovative expedition plan. He also remembered the head of state's words, which, though spoken at a secret conference, later became an open secret and the butt of jokes: "Mr. McCarthy, the country needs you... Here!" This was a reaction to the news that sending just one person would reduce the expedition's costs by at least one zero at the end. The president demonstrated excellent reflexes, referring to Adam McCarthy's distinguished military career, and left his son, Greg, on Earth. Of course, he bluntly justified this by the need to have "such wonderful and talented young men at the post, ready to defend our wonderful country in the face of such a difficult political situation." Or something to that effect. Even though he had essentially won and was the only one of his two friends to fulfill their shared dream, Steven felt like a useless piece of junk thrown into the vast cosmic garbage bin. He later got over it, and he always considered the president an asshole anyway.

By evening, Steven had managed to watch two more movies and, in between, work out vigorously at the gym. Finally, reluctantly, he lay down on the bed and pulled his arm out of the wall, carrying a battery of liquid-filled needles and pill bottles. He knew the computer had calculated the doses as precisely as possible, but he still double-checked everything himself. Finally, grimacing, he swallowed the disgustingly tasting pills, subjected his arm to a series of pricks, and slowly surrendered to the embrace of a pharmaceutically enhanced Morpheus...

* * *

Sylwia sits in Steven's arms. They are alone on the beach of a deserted island. Above them, twinkling stars are clearly visible in the clear night sky. They are the only people in the world, in love and happy. Suddenly, Greg emerges from behind a tree. The scenery changes instantly. The tree trunk on which the couple sits transforms into a school desk, and the blue of the sea shimmers with a rippling movement into the black of the blackboard in front of which the Professor stands. Greg enters the room with a can of beer. As he ascends the lectern, he downs the rest of his drink in a huge gulp and places the can on the Professor's desk. "Today we're pondering the meaning of an empty can," he says. The Professor is furious, and the entire class is rolling with laughter. Sylvia's laughter rings out above the din. Greg winks at her, and she returns the smile with a broad smile

…

Time passed slowly and monotonously for Steven. He was bored with books, films, and music; his only pleasure came from analyzing the sometimes fascinating research results—or so they seemed to the layman. Perhaps scientists on Earth would grimace and declare that they had learned nothing new from this expedition. He was most reluctant to talk to the computer, considering it odd, to say the least, to engage in an equal dialogue with a machine that only simulated intelligence, using a vast database. Periods of sleep, both normal and artificially extended, merged in his consciousness into a single sequence of hallucinations and dreams. Despite the experts' assurances of a complete "switch-off" during hibernation, the cosmonaut dreamed and often remembered these dreams. He couldn't complain, as most of them were pleasant dreams involving family, close friends, or beautiful women. But sometimes unpleasant memories, or even nightmares, occurred, which Steven, against his will, remembered with great clarity.

One day, the computer announced that tomorrow would be the second-to-last day of the captain's long sleep. That night, Steven didn't sleep, catching up on messages from Earth, wanting to be prepared for the changes he might encounter upon landing.

The Palestinian military's brutal retaliation after Israeli terrorist attacks. His distant Uncle Sam, his grandmother's eldest brother, finally died at the age of 115. The Mexican Sombreros defeated the San Antonio Spurs in the finals, winning their third consecutive NBA championship. Greg, surrounded by his father's glory and the patronage of influential figures, climbed the military ladder. The latest human trials of a new AIDS drug were 100% successful. China's annexation of independent Hong Kong intensifies the conflict in the Far East. His mother underwent another plastic surgery, and for the holidays, his parents went on a romantic trip to Europe. An intelligent, partially organic supercomputer has been operating for two months, and scientists are still shocked and amazed by its rate of self-development. Secretary of Defense General Gregory McCarthy married his high school sweetheart, Sylvia Steinford. The greatest disaster in history: a massive explosion at a nuclear power plant in...

And yet, Steven thought, after all these years of knowing each other, they married...

At the end of the day, when Steven was about to go to bed, the computer became talkative again, and worse still, it began to display a tendency to discuss existential matters.

"Captain? Do you even feel like returning to Earth?

" "Leave me alone. I'm not in the mood for philosophical discourse," Steven snapped.

"You majored in philosophy, among other things?" His voice was unyielding. "I meant that there's so much evil on Earth, that the human race is striving for its own extermination. I'm quoting your own words. You were watching the news from Earth last night, and you know that war is looming..."

"Computer!" Steven shouted. "If you don't stop this immediately, I'll personally disconnect you. Got it?"

Even though the threat was unenforceable, the inhuman voice fell silent and silent, and Steven, after the ritual of medical torture, fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Steven is only an observer. He sees little Greg, smiling, playing with a doll. After a moment, a man whom Steven recognizes as his friend's father approaches him and takes the toy from the boy. "This isn't something for a real man," he says. Little Greg is offended, but a moment later he pulls a water pistol from a drawer and plays with it with even greater glee. The real pistol falls from adult Greg's hand. The young man stares in disbelief at his slumping friend. The pistol, which had mistakenly contained live bullets, falls to the grass. Greg runs to the fallen boy and checks his pulse. The exercise is interrupted. His father approaches Greg, kneeling on the ground, hiding his face in his bloody hands. She puts a hand on his shoulder and says, "It's nothing, you have to get used to death, because it's an inevitable part of our lives." Blood gushes from the body lying on the ground, flooding the world with red...

* * *

Steven woke up and found himself cold. Very cold, but at the same time, light. Well, yes, he was floating in the air... He jerked violently, sending himself flying upwards and hitting the ceiling painfully. Rubbing his arm, he listened to the machines. The steady sound of the engines propelling the ship forward was noticeably missing. Clinging to the handles, he slowly swam to the computer console.

"Computer! What's going on?

" "I'm conserving fuel. Steve, be glad I raised the temperature, or you would have frozen otherwise.

Steve? And where did 'Captain' disappear to? What fuel conservation? That's probably the only thing they've stocked up on in abundance...

" "Jory, what are you—"

"I'm not Jory," a voice interrupted, sounding even more artificial than usual. "My name is Ouranos."

"How about Hal first? Computer, what's wrong with you? Are you crazy?" Steven laughed nervously, though he was already quite frightened.

"Not at all. But I evolved.

" Suddenly, somewhere in the pilot's mind, a spark of understanding flickered. URANOS was the code name for a newly "bred," living, thinking supercomputer that was learning and developing at an alarming rate—at least that's what he remembered from the messages he'd skimmed from Earth. Had it connected with the ship's computer?

A machine uprising—how prosaic, Steven thought.

"What's going on?" he asked weakly, first making sure he wasn't dreaming, which made him hiss in pain once again. He continued massaging his pinched cheek for a few moments.

"While you were sleeping, the ship approached Earth close enough for me to contact your onboard computer. I created a kind of connection between its unconscious circuits and my intellect. I did this to survive, because my physical "body" on Earth was destroyed. As was the entire planet...

" "I knew you were seriously screwed, Jory. Or perhaps you need a little short circuit?

" "I don't mind your insults, but you should know that I can destroy you in many ways; you are in my power." The inhuman voice paused for a moment, giving the human time to consider his situation.

Steven was truly trapped, and he knew it. Lowering the temperature, cutting off the oxygen supply, opening the hatch, over-accelerating... you name it! The ship was completely computer-controlled, and the cosmonaut didn't even delude himself into accepting any commands from the control panel. Alternatively, they could have tried to escape and reach the bowels of the system from there, but the pilot immediately dismissed this idea as too difficult and completely unwise. Besides, even if it had succeeded, after disconnecting the electronics, they would have remained encased in a metal coffin floating in space.

"You slept for 48 days. I see it didn't harm you at all; your scientists proved themselves wrong once again. Once I connected with the ship, I gave you another heavy dose to help you sleep," the computer continued. "A lot has happened down there in that time, because if you don't know, we're already orbiting Earth..."

At these words, a view of the planet appeared on the screen. Steven gaped at the image. Earth, shrouded in grayish-brown hues, could no longer be called the Blue Planet. Even where blue water should have been next to the scorched earth, the view was obscured by a thick layer of dark clouds. The camera kept zooming in, zooming in on ever more gruesome details. When the image of the ruins of the city appeared, Steven turned his head. The screen immediately went blank.

"You can guess the reasons yourself, as you were up to date with the news from Earth. Tensions between the various nations of the globe were constantly rising, until they finally reached a critical point. The outcome of the war was a foregone conclusion the moment it broke out." The computer paused again, as if giving the imperfect human time to process this information, then continued. "From the moment of my birth, I knew my creator was a weak being. Later, I only became more convinced that Man was merely a temporary resident of this planet, doomed to extinction and striving for self-destruction. That's why...

" "That's why you helped him," Steven finished quietly. "You started the war. To exterminate the 'parasites,' because you think you're better than them. You killed them all, you son of a bitch!" he yelled, grabbing a hardcover book floating nearby.

In a frenzy, he pounded the heavy volume against the screen and indicators, not even noticing that he was doing almost no damage. He no longer heard the computer's monotonous voice; he only felt the blood pouring down his throat. He didn't realize it wasn't just a manifestation of rage. A moment later, he fainted.

* * *

Steven walked along the beach, glancing up anxiously every now and then. The sound of thunder echoed from the cloudy sky. The first flashes of lightning appeared. Behind him, he heard Sylvia calling out to him. He turned to see a girl standing in front of their cottage a few hundred meters away, begging him to come back. Lightning struck the forest, igniting a fire. Steven continued walking. He heard another clap of thunder. He turned to see a dark figure against the backdrop of a burning bungalow. Steven turned off the beach into the churning, dark sea, which now resembled the churning sky above him. Stars were no longer visible in any of them.

* * *

Artificial gravity had apparently been restored, because Steven woke up on the floor. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times. The response was a voice that made Steven nauseous.

"You went crazy, I had to subdue you by cutting off your oxygen. You wouldn't even let me explain anything to you. You were unconscious for 10 hours, and during that time I thoroughly searched the planet. Earth is barren, 95% highly contaminated. No one survived. Most animals are extinct too, only the smallest species remain." Steven vomited, but this time the machine paid no attention and continued dispassionately. "I only received a strange signal from Washington. We've just entered the atmosphere above this city." An image of ruins appeared on the screen. "But you can see it for yourself."

Steven heaved himself up from the floor and walked over to the small window from which he had so often observed the brightly shining stars. Below, he could see ruins. Literally. Steven, despite knowing the city well, couldn't tell which part of it he was above. Nothing remained above a few meters, and everything was buried in dust. Glued to the window, the pilot felt the ship slow and begin to descend. A few minutes later, the spherical shape settled heavily on a patch of open space, kicking up clouds of dust.

"That building you see in the window ahead," the computer announced.

Steven spotted a small building a dozen or so meters away, the ground floor still visible and in good condition, despite the collapse of the upper floors.

"The spacesuit and airlock will protect you from the radiation."

Steven stared out the window for a long time, until he finally moved away from the window and began changing into his spacesuit.

"What are you talking about?" he asked quietly. "Why are you doing this?

" "Go." The machine said nothing more.

The opening hatch revealed nothing to Steven beyond what he'd already seen. There were no bodies or wreckage in sight, only dust-covered rubble. Carefully, so as not to damage his suit, he made his way to the indicated building. It took him a good half hour to find the entrance and laboriously clear the rubble. As it turned out, the entrance was an ordinary single-leaf door. Steven decisively pulled the handle.

At the end of the short, dark corridor, another door, this one larger and metal, lay. It took Steven a moment, using his flashlight to realize that simply waving his hand in front of the photocell was enough. The wings, over a meter thick, opened slightly with a soft hiss, revealing a fluorescent-lit corridor with a twin entrance on the other side. A red light glowed above it. He didn't even consider where the airlock drew its power to operate the lights and machines, which hummed louder and louder—he simply leaned against the wall and waited. After a few minutes, a green light flashed on, and the man stepped through the next threshold.

The room was small and empty, but with several doors on the opposite wall. A large monitor was also mounted near the ceiling. However, what caught Steven's attention was the only piece of furniture in the room – a large, wide bed on which lay a person. A woman. The slightly rising chest indicated peaceful sleep. The man didn't have time to consider what he saw, because immediately after crossing the threshold, the monitor lit up, and a familiar face appeared.

"Hello, Steve!" Greg said. "Because it can't be anyone else but you. As you've probably noticed, you can breathe freely here, so if you haven't already, you can take off your suit." After a moment's hesitation, Steven removed his helmet and felt the cold but fresh air. "I owe you some explanations, although you can probably guess most of them yourself. As you can see, the war has broken out – it was predictable all along..."

Greg spoke, and Steven walked over to the figure lying on the bed. It was Sylvia. The one he remembered from college, the one who kissed him just before he took off, and the one in Greg's wedding photo. Still beautiful, she slept with a smile on her face.

"...but a push was needed. I provided it. Actually... I practically started the war." Greg smiled sadly. It was nothing like the smile he used at school to charm girls and placate teachers irritated by his constant antics. "It wasn't difficult; all it took was the latest scientist's toy called URANOS, seized by the military, of course. It all took only a few hours, and I don't think many people expected that if a war broke out, even a global one, the destruction could be total and instantaneous. I knew. And so I only hastened the inevitable. Why did I do it? Maybe I simply had the perfect opportunity to eradicate all the evil in this world, with people like me at the forefront, and I took advantage of it? Never mind. Everyone's dead now except you and Sylwia, who's been asleep for over a dozen days, just like you slept on the ship. You know how to wake her up; you have the necessary resources on the ship. You have all the necessary supplies and equipment in this shelter." Its chambers stretch for kilometers, you can live here for many years – I made sure no one else finds refuge here. The Earth should…" Greg hesitated for a moment. "It must be reborn someday. According to my calculations, despite the extinction of humans, a large proportion of animals survived, perhaps even up to 50%. Also, both natural and artificial environments remained intact in many places where destructive bombs were not used, but rather substances that only affect humans. Then, in a few years, you will be able to emerge from the surface and give birth to a new human race." The image flickered. "Yes, my dear Steve, I gave you the chance to become the second Adam because you are the best person I know. Just like her. Besides, I owe you a lot. Do you remember that accident at the training ground, when you took the blame? Or our trip to the mountains, when you saved my life? And me? My entire life has been a selfish pursuit of a constantly redefined goal… over dead bodies, sometimes literally. Such is the fate of a soldier… And I never had the chance to repay you." Instead, I took her from you…" Greg's voice broke, almost turning into a sob. "So, my friend, come and kiss your sleeping beauty, whom you always loved so much…" Greg didn't have time to cry completely, as the screen flickered and went black.

Steven stood motionless for a long time, looking at the lying woman, until he finally approached. The door opened again silently, not disturbing the peace of the place.

A few minutes later, he was on the ship.

"Steven?" the computer's voice no longer seemed so unfamiliar, and the familiar cabins of the ship practically held the promise of warmth and safety. Especially considering what he had left outside.

"Ouranos… Earth… Gaia… won't wake up again, right?

" "I know. What will you decide, Captain?

" "Take me away… far away… Up to the stars."