Binary code Mystery number two

Zadikyan Artur

– Even like that?

– You and your kind are the perfect spies. Everything you see, hear, feel, think, can be transmitted over a distance, without instruments. No external instruments. Everything you need is already inside you. The brain is the perfect receiver and transmitter. You only need to be able to amplify it, chip and decode the signals.

– Okay, I'm getting tired.

Ruthra found one of the intersections, lit up the schematic with his badge, found the biomolecular transgeniology unit on it, contacted the badge with his line, and went where the laser led. He remembered that the attendant had covered his eyes with a hooded mask. Ruthra did the same, visibility changed. Through the mask everything looked in matte color, his eyes didn't hurt from the constant wandering of the image, especially when there were several people moving through the corridors.

Soon he arrived at the place. The door wouldn't open, there was no clearance.

– What to do? – He asked Isa.

– Call her," she suggested or recommended.

– How?

– Wait, they're having lunch soon, someone will come out, tell them to call. It's normal here.

Rutra did so, and soon a woman, in her early thirties, of oriental type, came out.

– I'm here to see you. May I speak to you? – Ruthra addressed her.

– Are you from Russia? – she asked with hope in her voice.

– Yes," Ruthra answered, looking at her wonderingly. – Why, can you tell? Or did you recognize it in some other way?

– No. I knew a trusted specialist was coming, a doctor from Russia studying systems that transmit information signals in unconventional ways. Let's go to the cafeteria, have lunch, and we can talk.

– Were you expecting me?

– Yeah. Come with me.

She led him down the corridors, then led him into the compartment. What Rutru saw there was another mind-blowing experience. He stopped, his brain working like a dynamo, trying to make sense of what was happening. Alikhanov's rig stood in the center of the lab. Ruzi stopped too, waiting for Rutru and perplexed, studying his reaction. He looked at the doctor and said, to explain something to himself, and to check her for "his – alien":

– The proof of the Poincare hypothesis and Perelman's "quirks" have a long-range calculation in order to prove the genius fantasist right, which contradicts the mathematics of the universe and comes from the human desire to believe in the illogical, the miracle, which leads humanity from one disappointment to another, that is, to the catastrophe that faith itself describes, because there is no other, which in the end, if not changed, will lead to the real catastrophe of humanity.

– What? What do you mean? – Ruzi asked, looking at Ruthra questioningly, smiling as if she had heard something she didn't dare to say.

– So much for the savior being digital this time.

– That's great. Anyone who's into this stuff will understand. Everyone has their hobby. Poincare's hypotheses and Perelman's "quirks" have a long-range calculation? Hmm. How to say. Although… these proofs are only understood by a very narrow circle. That is, even if they are wrong – no one will know! Einstein is a fantasist. It's the same with his proofs. He was kicked out of school because of his poor math skills, but he had a great imagination. He tried to explain the mystery of the universe by voicing the work of other scientists as his own, but it contradicts (his theory) Newton's physics. The one on which all physics is based. The illogical miracle is the whole of religion. A miracle is always unexplainable, therefore not logical. And religion, while promising to save man and the world, keeps predicting the apocalypse. So it is not logical, but people consider it God's grace, because they need "spiritual food". Do you believe in God?

– Purely scientific," Ruthra said, sighing.

And he thought to himself, looking at the installation, "That's what it is."

Ruzi understood Rutra's surprise.

– It's a copy. My father worked with an academic," she explained. – After they were exposed, my father managed to move to America. In the '90s, Russia was a mess. His friends, microbiologists, were mysteriously murdered, and everything was disguised as a domestic or accidental incident. When Dad realized that someone very powerful was behind it, a super-secret organization, that no one cared about these deaths, even though they were the direct responsibility of the FSB, he decided to run away.

– So why were they killed if they were so needed?

– You don't know about the Alikhanov program of doppelgangers and copying the non-physical content of the brain.

Rutra could barely keep from showing surprise, she also "finished" Rutra by saying:

– They themselves created the monster that ate them.

A shiver ran through Ruthra's body. She continued to surprise him, as if Rutra were her good friend and more than that, her accomplice.

– I brought you here because the rig is jamming all the signals. I'm working here, trying to recreate the rig from the blueprints my dad memorized.

– What about him? – Ruthra asked, thinking at that moment that Isa was involved, or else it was a provocation, only with a ghostly purpose, though the "scan" of Ruzi's pupils showed no lie.

– Op died," Rousey replied sadly.

– What, too?

– No, that's what I call it, he had a heart attack, he was driven to it by the system. I was tricked into coming here and they won't let me out. I can see my family. There is everything here – cinema, cafes, theater, stadium and much more. But I can't go outside the perimeter until I've done all the installation.

– Strange, why not a cooperative arrangement?

– Which one? Alikhanov refused to finish, and if he did anything, it was with deceit and cunning. They even killed his wife, so he only pretended to cooperate.

Ruthra tried to contact Isa, she didn't answer. Could this really be an isolation room?

– How did you get here, why do you trust me?

– You're from Russia, and I was told you were working with Alikhanov. Besides, I don't care anymore, I'm in prison, I can only escape at the risk of my life. I didn't want to become a military man, although since childhood I was constantly with my father in secret laboratories. At that time I didn't understand why they let me in. I was a journalism major. Let's go to the mess hall and I'll tell you my story and what's going on here. If I open my eyes wide, it means we can't talk about it. We'll talk openly when we get back here.

They got out and walked in a different direction, soon reaching the dining room, which looked like a fancy restaurant – with fountains, a waterfall, and wildlife elements, including animals and birds.

– When I lived in the Soviet Union, I, probably like everyone else, was alarmed to hear and read information about the US military bases, with which they literally filled the whole world.

One day several men in civilian clothes, of strange appearance and skin color, came to visit my father. At that time I did not yet know that it was professional. They talked briefly, and after almost twenty-four hours we prepared to move. I realized later that my father had been warned, prepared for this. A trailer came to pick us up, we loaded everything we thought was precious to us, and off we went. I didn't know where we were being taken. After a few dozen miles, we noticed that there was no one on the road but us – a thin ribbon of winding highway, bare mountains, lifeless Mojave Desert. Suddenly we saw a modest, ordinary sign, and we didn't immediately realize that we were speeding along the range, that we were being driven to the very same Edwards Air Force Base where the shuttles usually landed. I began to realize what was happening. It was quite enough for me to imagine that we were quite close to mysterious, menacing, and super-secret places, although the sky above us was somehow particularly desolate and quiet, like the Mojave. Probably because passenger airliners are forbidden to fly over Air Force bases. But getting to Area 51 was more interesting. Extraterrestrial Highway – Extraterrestrial Highway (or Alien Highway) is the official name given by jokers or enterprising businessmen to the road running along the northern border of the Nellis test site. As we approach the symbolic gates of the secret base, there are the same warning signs as at Edwards Proving Ground, and the same strict prohibitions on photography and filming, although there is nothing around but mountains and sun-scorched desert. Our base, now "our" to me, is in the center of the test site. This is the largest test site in the United States. During the day the approaches to Zone-51 – in physical space – are patrolled by special military units fur seals, these are "Navy SEALs" on white Jeeps "Cherokee", at night – by black helicopters with searchlights. Camouflaged security cameras, motion and heat radiation detectors and warning shields are installed around the perimeter of the base. No signs of life within a 100 kilometer radius.