GRAMMATON

Grammaton

Joseph Minkey, sixth cleric of Grammaton, second class, buckled under the blows of the High Council guards.

"Who discovered him?" asked the Secretary of the Council.

"One of the youngest, sir," the guard replied.

"They're getting more and more effective," the Secretary said thoughtfully. "I have a feeling this traitor won't tell us about his friends in the resistance," he added, looking at the cleric.

The Secretary was a man in the prime of life with a gentle, yet characteristically possessed expression. No one could guess what this man was thinking.

"So..." he paused, "you will say nothing. Yes... In that case, I must pronounce sentence. Joseph Minkey, I find you guilty of a crime of sentiment and sentence you to death. You will be taken to your cell to await the sentence. It will be carried out as soon as possible. Take him back to your cell. Be careful with him; he is extremely dangerous," he added to the guards.

"Yes, sir."

Two guards immediately escorted the prisoner away. The Secretary turned in his chair towards the enormous window and looked out at the square. The stream of people flowing in both directions completely obscured the square's concrete floor.

"Why? Why do they do this?" the Secretary thought aloud. "Our world is better after all.

" "Not everyone wants this," he heard the voice of the Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Council right behind him.

"I apologize, Your Eminence," the Secretary bowed. "I didn't hear when...

" "Good, good," the Deputy nodded indulgently. "Was it Minkey?" he asked with a trace of concern in his voice.

"Yes, Your Reverence, Joseph Minkey, sixth cleric of Grammaton, second class, was sentenced to burning for a crime of first-class sentiment. "

The Deputy, with the utmost concentration of his will, left a neutral expression on his face.

"So there is no hope?" he asked, as if naively.

"Hope?" the Secretary wondered. "What hope?"

"That he is innocent," the Deputy said slowly and emphatically.

"The evidence is indisputable." Two books were found on him.

"Perhaps they're evidence in some investigation?

" "Your Reverence," the Secretary began with unusual solemnity and seriousness, "Joseph Minkey hasn't been conducting any investigations for a month. He didn't know anything about it, but we checked him out. Furthermore, the clerics are obligated to immediately return any evidence to the warehouse. They are not allowed to possess any of the confiscated items longer than absolutely necessary. That is, from the end of the pacification of the area until their return from the operation. This is precisely what paragraph sixty-four of the Clergy Book states.

" "Yes, I know," the Deputy waved his hand. "I was asking out of pure curiosity. How's the progress in the fight against the resistance?"

"Look at what we've learned," said the Secretary, pointing to the Deputy's report.

***

Not even a minute had passed since the Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Council had left the Secretary's office when he picked up the receiver of the red telephone hidden under his desk and said,

"Sir, it happened exactly as you predicted.

" "Who?" a muffled voice came from the receiver.

"The Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Council was just asking about Joseph Minkey.

" "We need to find out what connects them and who else is involved. "

"Yes, sir," said the Secretary, and hung up.

"It's interesting," he thought, "what might connect them." He immediately stopped worrying about the problem and returned to his duties. Another life had been shattered.

***

The Deputy walked slowly down the corridor, past the guards, and... he felt he would collapse. He would fall to the ground, curl up, and never rise again. His life was worthless. Joseph had been arrested, and there was no hope for him. No one, not even he, the Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Council, could help him. Help his own son. For so many years, he carefully concealed his secret, climbed the career ladder, always without emotion, dispassion. "This isn't the world," he thought, "it's a land of automatons. God, if you exist, tell me what we've done, what have we done so terribly wrong?" Sometimes at night, as if in a dream, he thought he heard the answer just as the hero of his favorite book, which he'd carefully hidden for fifteen years, had heard: "And you still ask what you've done? Through centuries of murder, wars, and assassinations. Often in my name." The deputy sometimes thought that this was the penance imposed by God on his sinful children. Grammaton, on the other hand, was a tool that ruthlessly enforced penance, judgment. But every penance must eventually end. Even the Bible—his best-hidden treasure—testified to the fact that eventually this suffering must end. "When the Son of God will descend again to Earth," was all the Deputy read from the book.

"Is something bothering you, Deputy?" one of the guards asked in the corridor, noticing his pallor and unsteady gait.

The Deputy immediately regained control. If he showed any mental weakness tomorrow, he himself would end up in the crematorium. The position he held until now would be of no help to him.

"No, thank you for your concern, it's just a temporary stomach ache. Nothing's wrong."

The guard left, but the Deputy knew he wasn't satisfied with his answer. "I think he'll probably report it. He has to report the incident. If he doesn't, and someone else saw it, he too will end up in the crematorium tomorrow. He has to go to the doctor. Fake some ailments, some illness." His mind was still in chaos. The blow of the conversation with the Secretary was too strong for this old man.

***

"Didn't the lesson we taught the resistance movement after Preston's uprising teach them anything?" The Chairman's voice practically boomed through a meeting of the Supreme Council. "Don't they know they can't win? What good is this fight?

" "Your Eminence," said the Head of the Research Department. "Our experiences, as well as the records from the 'other world,' prove that this fight gives them hope, and hope drives them to continue fighting."

"That's nonsense," the Secretary exclaimed.

"Their behavior is irrational; we can't find any logic in it," the intelligence chief observed.

"These people are going around in circles." The Secretary was raised from an early age in the spirit of the Cleric's Book. Anything not included there either didn't interest him or was wrong.

"And are we making progress?" asked the Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Council.

"What do you mean by that, Your Eminence?" asked the intelligence chief. "Those are very strange words. They undermine our status."

The deputy stood slowly and began pacing the circular hall of the Council.

"Are we making progress? Are we developing?

" "We recently invented a new type of Prosium," the head of the scientific department practically exclaimed.

"I'm not talking about Prosium," the deputy said. "Have we invented anything in a field other than interrogation or weapons? For example, some means of transportation? Some new communication system? Are we conducting any research on drugs? We're not doing anything of the sort.

" "Those words seem like betrayal to me," the intelligence chief exclaimed.

"Why?" asked the Deputy.

"They question our system, our very existence.

" "No, they don't question our very existence." The Deputy was toying with the intelligence chief, toying with everyone else like a suicide contemplating suicide with a live grenade. "They are questioning what we've dedicated ourselves to? We've squandered our chance, destroyed our perfect world, its perfect idea.

" "It's rebellion," snapped the intelligence chief.

"Listen, son," the Deputy, over twenty years his senior, said to him. "When I was building this system, you didn't even know what the word 'system' was, and when I was fighting the rebels in the Preston Uprising, you were just graduating from the Clerics Academy. I know perfectly well what rebellion is."

"Your Eminence, Chairman. I also dislike these words. They insult me ​​as a righteous cleric and citizen of our world.

" "Deputy," the Chairman said after a moment of reflection, "what are you trying to tell us?"

The Deputy took an almost imperceptible deep breath and said,

"Every civilization must develop. It must expand upon its achievements and make new discoveries. If it doesn't, if it only focuses on itself, it becomes lazy, begins a reverse path, begins a regression in its development. I don't question our system. It's perfect. We abandoned feelings because we've determined, based on centuries of experience, that they hinder us. Good. Perhaps we should focus on exploring new areas for our development, or perhaps on perfecting the human organism itself. Let's develop our skills in the field of electronics as well. That's my suggestion."

A moment of silence fell on the room. The Intelligence Director and the Secretary looked at each other, unsure whether to interpret the Deputy's words as betrayal or not. The head of the research department stared blankly at the wall. The Chairman spoke first.

"Deputy, are you making a formal request to begin new research and exploration?

" "If necessary, I will.

" "Very well," the Chairman said. "Let the research department develop a strategy. A detailed research plan," he said, looking at the head of the research department.

"Yes, Your Eminence," the other said.

"We expect the results at the next Council meeting."

The meeting ended. Everyone dispersed to their own affairs. The deputy was almost happy that he had managed to launch his plan. He knew that any uprisings or uprisings would be of no use. The system was too strong, too well protected and organized. He had to proceed slowly and carefully. He had to destroy it from within, and to do that, he had to first keep it occupied.

***

Just after the meeting ended, a light came on in a small room two floors above the Supreme Council meeting hall. A hand lifted the receiver, and a voice familiar to the Secretary spoke to him.

"Arrest him, just in case."

"Sir," the Secretary said, "on what charge?

" "On the charge of inciting a rebellion at the meeting.

" "Yes, sir.

" "But his plan is to be implemented and executed in accordance with the resolution the Council adopts.

" "Yes, sir."

Hand hung up the phone.

***

The meeting of the Supreme Council began precisely on time. All seven people were present. The Chairman, the new Deputy, the Secretary, the Head of the Scientific Department, the Head of Intelligence, the Head of the Military Department, and the Head of the Economic Department. As usual, the Chairman spoke first.

"Has the plan presented by the previous Deputy been developed?" he asked.

No one present dared even ask what had happened to the previous Deputy. Four days ago, on Father's orders, after a conversation with him, he was arrested on charges of mutiny. A new Deputy was immediately appointed. However, Father desired the Council to implement the previous Deputy's plan. As Father reasoned, betrayal by the disgusting spiritual side of man, which like a serpent had taken possession of the pure and logical form of the Deputy, could not affect the previously pure mind of the Deputy, which was capable of conceiving such a brilliant plan that could save all of humanity from stagnation.

"Yes, Your Eminence," replied the Head of the Science Department. "Here are the preliminary calculations and plans. We believe it would be best to begin work immediately.

" "Please summarize the matter briefly," requested the new Deputy.

The Head of the Science Department took his notes from his desk and began his presentation.

"The plan involves space exploration, as the Deputy proposed, and the simultaneous creation of a new, improved race of humans, free forever from feelings and without taking Prosium.

" "How is that possible?" asked the Chief of Intelligence.

"We'll have to breed a new race. Genetic improvements will take years," the Secretary exclaimed.

"No, we won't have to breed a new race. Yes, it is possible. First, we'll use people already living; of course, we'll select the best and most dedicated individuals. They will form the crews of spaceships, which we will send on expeditions to search for other planets and other civilizations." The Chief of Science showed a sketch of a spaceship. "This is what our plans will look like for the spaceships. They will be shaped like a perfect cube. Ultimately, we want to build eight such units. Each will have full communication with the others, as well as with our headquarters.

" "What about this new race? How do you intend to solve this problem?" asked the Chief of Military.

"Initially, we wanted to clone one of our best Daredevils, but after checking scientific records from the "other" world, we discovered that such research had already been conducted and that clones didn't live long enough. Therefore, we will use normal humans, after training, of course. We will implant each of them with a new technology that fully interacts with the human body. It blocks all emotional activities...

" "Bravo," exclaimed the Secretary.

"...and motivates and enhances all logical processes. It also maintains the high efficiency of the human body and controls its physiological processes, limiting them to performing only the basic ones. Unfortunately, this technology still needs work. The idea is for the electronic components inside the human body to repair themselves, replicate themselves, and possibly defend the body against external attacks.

" "What priorities do you envision for these crews?" asked the Chairman.

"Space exploration. Discovering new, unknown areas of space and assimilating possible new life forms for research purposes. Later, this technology will be applicable not only to a select few, but to all humans.

" "And what should this technology, or this new human, be called, because I understand they are to be one?

" "Yes. They will be one. It will be one great consciousness in millions of beings. This will also facilitate emotional control. We also considered naming this technology, or this new race of humans, after the Deputy who came up with the idea.

" "That would even sound good," the Secretary added at the end. "Borg."