The URANUS Code (Citadel World Book #1)

by Kir Lukovkin

  He spread his arms, demonstrating his good intentions.

  “We need to visit the archive,” Rick demanded. “Right now.”

  “All right. As you wish.” Paris smiled and led them towards the Chorda along the balcony.

  Rick was bewildered—everything was too easy. He never took his eyes off Paris, who began telling them about the structure of the first aeon and the Epsilon sector.

  Like the other four, the first aeon consisted of five sectors: Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and Epsilon. There was a hangar and landing pads for flying machines at the very top, as well as equipment for communicating with the outside world which was not working at the moment. The ancient architects had installed power generators to collect solar and wind energy in sector Beta. These generator complexes were so powerful that they supplied the whole aeon with energy. Moisture collectors were located there too. The third sector was the Thermopolis Control Center. This was where all the data from all aeons and other sectors arrived. The operators constantly monitored the state of the external surface, thermal networks, water supplies and other life support essentials. The fourth sector, where the Chairman was now leading Rick and Maya, contained scientific research laboratories, archives and technical databases. There was also a book and media library that contained millions of units of information created by ancient humans. The scientists of Epsilon sector had spent years working in the archives and studying every grain of information. And finally, Epsilon itself was designed for residence and recreation.

  As Paris explained things to them, they reached a connecting corridor that led them to the well of the Chorda and approached a stairway where the steps moved upwards by themselves. Rick concealed his surprise and stepped onto the stairs after Paris and Maya.

  “The escalator,” which was the way Paris called the moving stairway, “will deliver us to the archive in a few minutes.”

  “Where do you get your food?” Maya asked with interest.

  “Oh, we have all we need to do that!” Paris smiled at her. “It would be a pleasure for me to take you through every floor of each of the four segments and show you the life of our sector. And then, if you wish, we can rise floor by floor until we reach the roof.”

  Rick was looking at this bald man and did not know how to behave. Paris was genuinely happy to see them, as if he had been waiting for their visit for a long time and could not wait to show off the local attractions. As soon as they even glanced at some structure or level, Paris caught on what they were looking at and enthusiastically explained the purpose of such things to them until the attention of his guests switched to something else. Rick exchanged glances with Maya a few times, but did not manage to understand her reaction to what was going on.

  The escalator snaked upwards along the inner wall of the Chorda well. Rick looked down into the chasm, which was enshrouded by darkness. A barely audible rumble came from below. The Chorda stretched out into space, a pillar of white light which it hurt to observe.

  Noting Rick's interest in the Chorda, Paris perceptively said, “It has been three days since the Axis came to life. The operators have noticed the activation of the external shell—the air intakes have closed and the outer wall has started to heat up. Do you know anything about this?”

  “We'd like to know ourselves,” Rick mumbled thoughtfully.

  Paris nodded.

  “In that case, we will address this issue as soon as we are finished with the archive. There is a lot we need to tell each other.”

  Rick was in full agreement with him in this matter.

  The escalator took them higher and higher, and they had now gone past the residential levels of the Epsilon sector. The floors covered with flat windows were replaced by walls with oval bulges, divided into equally sized segments. The ovals blinked with multicolored lights, lighting up and going out in a complex pattern. Rick looked up—the ovals made the internal surface of the well into a living mosaic, in which the fragments constantly arranged themselves into patterns and spots of color.

  “The Central Computer,” Paris explained. “The brain of Thermopolis. It processes all of the information that comes in from the external and internal sensors, archives it and issues instructions. All of the automatic functions rely on it.”

  They heard a crackling coming from the depths of the wall. Now and again, lightning arced between adjacent ovals.

  “The memory units are charged with electricity. I would not advise touching them, or you will turn into pieces of charcoal.”

  “And what if the machine breaks down?” asked Maya.

  “It's best not to think about that,” Paris replied. “There are only around ten people that know the inner workings of the computer, but even they would require half their lifetime to find and fix the fault.”

  “But this machine can't work forever,” Rick noted. “Any machine has a finite lifetime.”

  “That's right.” Paris gave him a strange look. “But this computer is made so that it can repair itself. It is self-sufficient—there are small machines that look like insects that work inside. The ancients made provisions for everything. By the way, I will show you the observation windows that face outwards. Would you like to see the outside world?”

  “That would be really interesting!” Maya supported his idea, keeping quiet about the fact that they had already been outside once.

  “So it's decided!”

  The escalator delivered them to their destination. Paris led them under an arch labeled with a glyph Rick did not recognize and they found themselves in a corridor, which was walled with shelves several levels high, filled with oblong objects that looked like bricks of different shapes and colors. Paris went over to the nearest shelf and took out one of the bricks. It turned out that the brick could be opened and that it contained sheets of paper covered with tiny letters inside.

  “These are books—and obsolete carrier of information,” he said. “The ancients used to record their knowledge in them.”

  Maya stroked her fingers down some of the spines and read one of them out loud, “Ovid. The Art of Love.”

  They walked on, looking at the shelves which were occupied by legions of books. It seemed that there would be no end to them. The shelves extended into space on every side and it would have been easy to get lost in this monotonous labyrinth—it was enough to step in the wrong direction and lose sight of one's companions.

  Finally, they came out into an open space, arriving in a hall full of tables and lamps. A deafening silence hung over the hall and Rick counted three strangers behind the tables. They were poring over books and ignoring the new arrivals. Only one of them raised his head for a moment and then returned to his reading.

  Wordlessly, Paris headed towards a wide stairway that led to the highest level, plated in glass, as Rick and Maya quietly hurried after them.

  Yet again, they found themselves in a labyrinth of shelves, but their structure had changed, as they became semicircular and smaller in size— they were filled with cases of discs similar to those that Rick and Maya had seen in the room where they watched the living pictures. However, Paris did not even think of stopping, as he passed through the gallery to lead his companions along a corridor that contained a chain of white doors to both sides. The doors had serial numbers and signs. On one side Rick read “Astronomy”, “Solid-state Physics”, “Biochemistry” and “Bacteriology”. On the other side, the signs read “Sociology”, “Macroeconomics”, “Statistics” and “Philosophy”. One of the doors was ajar and Rick stopped as he came alongside it—he saw a room filled with a row of chairs with small screens over the armrests. Paris walked on and stopped by a door with a sign that said “History”.

  “So what do you want to find out?” he asked.

  Rick and Maya exchanged glances and chorused, “Everything!”

  Paris smiled.

  “That is about the answer I expected. However, you will not manage to find out “everything” today.”

  “We understand,” Rick s
aid. “We want to know what Thermopolis is. The whole truth.”

  “All right.”

  They entered the room. Paris sat them down in the chairs. For some reason, Rick thought that they were completely in this man's power, but he did not show his feelings and did not object to anything. Paris let them both swallow a purple pill and explained, “This improves brain activity. It will help you understand and remember everything well. I will now connect electrodes to your foreheads and temples and you will need to put helmets with glasses on your heads so that you can see a colored living picture. It's not painful. The only thing you might experience afterwards is some slight dizziness. Watch. I dial “Thermopolis” in on the panel. The machine gives a list of results: “Thermopolis. Technical Data.”, “Thermopolis. Demographics”, “History of Thermopolis” and many others. We are interested in history. So we select it. The film is going to load now. It might seem long to you, but that will because of the stimulant, that pill I gave you. I will be close by. Enjoy watching.”

  Paris left. Rick glanced at Maya. She was biting her lip, blushing with excitement. The large screen on the wall displayed a message: “Film loaded. Put on your helmet.”

  And Rick obeyed the instruction.

  16

  MAN WAS MIGHTY in his power. He transformed the world in which he lived, building cities, redirecting rivers, constructing dams, eroding mountains to their very bottom, raising islands among the seas and draining huge bodies of water. He flooded the deserts with oases and turned whole continents of ice into oceans.

  Man was great, and all he touched bore his mark. Especially the cities, some of which stood for thousands of years until being abandoned.

  When humanity became a global civilization and populated the whole planet, the creations of human hands reached an unbelievable scale. Man had climbed the highest mountains, descended into the deepest trenches of the world ocean, had visited the Earth's satellite and its neighboring red planet and finally left the confines of the Solar System.

  One of the greatest architects lived in those times. His greatest creation rivaled the ancient pyramids of Cheops.

  His name was Archimedes Spanidis.

  Archimedes was a true master of his art, because he could construct buildings to any order, anywhere in the world. All of his creations stood out with their originality and durability, and it was impossible to mistake them for any other buildings. He approached construction as if it was a divine creation, giving all of himself to the process.

  Since the time of his youth, when he walked amid the ruins of the Parthenon of Athens in his homeland of Greece, he decided to issue a challenge to eternity, surpassing all of the existing achievements of world architecture by constructing a building that would remain standing even after the fall of humanity.

  The years passed. The young man grew and learned the intricacies of the art of architecture. As he gradually acquired knowledge and experience, his plan became increasingly clear. This was no longer a dream, but a project, that started to combine a plethora of sketches and calculations into a concrete diagram.

  Archimedes Spanidis spent his whole life moving towards his goal. His project was named Thermopolis. Inspired by the ancient Greek legends of Olympic gods and the cultural life of the polises, Archimedes decided to create a hand-wrought Olympus—a gigantic, autonomous city-building, that was perfect in its engineering. It was a hollow mountain, filled with all that is necessary for a man to lead a fulfilling existence. Archimedes personally worked on the blueprints, contemplating and calculating every detail and element of the future construction, from its foundation to the top of the tower.

  Once he completed his work on the blueprints, he sent an application to all of the architectural contests that took place in different countries around the world. He traveled to conferences, symposia and round tables, presenting his grandiose project to the public every time and fervently trying to prove that it was both possible and feasible.

  But no one believed the architect.

  At best, they attentively listened to him, nodded and then politely refused. At worst, they laughed. The project was unsuccessful over and over again. Meanwhile, the years passed and Archimedes lost the valuable time that nature had provided him, fully understanding that no other could ever implement his life's work.

  Then one day, when he was sitting at home on his verandah and miserably looking out at the Aegean sea, his phone rang. The voice at the other end of the line uttered, “I will give you money to build Thermopolis.”

  At first, Archimedes thought that this was a prank call and was about to put the phone down, but then that same voice added, “This is my first and last offer.”

  The caller turned out to be a young Arab billionaire, the grandson of Sheikh Mahmoud ibn Al-Saadi—Madah Mahsood. The young man had inherited a gigantic fortune from his wealthy grandfather but decided that he wanted to use the money in another way, instead of growing it. When the architect and the billionaire met, Archimedes could not resist asking, “Why?”

  Mahsood smiled.

  “Money and wealth are worthless by themselves, and nothing is left of them in the end. A man must leave something more significant than bank accounts after he passes from this world.”

  “I understand.”

  Once the partners had discussed the cost of construction and the most important issues, Mahsood said, “You will have your financing. But under one condition.”

  Archimedes was ready for this to happen. He knew that the young man will make some demand, but the achievement of his goal had blinded him so much that he would have agreed to commit any crime and offer any sacrifice for his great project. Mahsood told him his condition, and added, “This must be done. You must give your oath!”

  Archimedes was surprised, but he swore to fulfill the condition. And he did so.

  The construction soon began. Archimedes hired a huge number of builders, contracted hundreds of companies, negotiated with a whole army of experts, carefully selected a construction site and built an entire city around it to house all of the workers. He obviously wanted to keep the project a secret until the very end, but it was very difficult no to notice a construction project on such a great scale. The news of the great construction traveled around the world, and journalists, investors, adventurers, religious fanatics, politicians, fraudsters and con men of all kinds made their way to the Thermopolis construction site. Even though the prudent Mahsood had purchased a huge piece of land which was treated as private property and surrounded with a whole regiment of guards, someone always managed to make it through the barrier. However, this did not prevent the builders from working on the project.

  Archimedes was ecstatic.

  His lifelong dream was becoming reality. His moments of joy did quickly change into hours of thinking about various issues, however. Difficulties arose from the first days of construction. As soon as the architect solved one problem, two new ones would appear.

  Everything started when the foundation was being laid. Archimedes understood that even the most durable foundation would be unable to cope with this degree of stress. Something entirely new was required. However, there was no time for research, which was why he brought the best engineers in the world and set them this task, which they started to solve on-site. Through trial an error, the group of architects gradually managed to solve the complex problem. They designed four wings which would use each other for support and solve the issue of weight distribution and the pressure on supporting structures. To prevent the building from collapsing, thousands of especially modified liquid piles, that would increase in volume and penetrate the soil like the roots of a tree.

  It was only then, as he watched the piles being poured in from a helicopter, that Archimedes was confirmed in something he had guessed at a long time ago, and which now became entirely clear to him—the Thermopolis had to be grown, not built. Like a sapling in the garden.

  The first stone was laid by Mahsood.

  A year later, he fell t
erminally ill. Following another half a year of battling the disease he still left this world. There were rumors that Mahsood had left some sort of secret message just before he died, but no one ever managed to find it. Archimedes inherited all of the Sheikh's fortune from his will. The relatives immediately initiated lawsuits against him. A scandal which threatened to grow into an international political conflict arose. Influential Arabs were threatening sanctions against the country which had allowed the construction of the gigantic complex in its territory. Pieces about the construction and its architect never left the latest news reports. Journalists never left Archimedes alone. In the end, he was forced to break all contact with the outside world and entirely concentrate on the construction project. His brother who was a Greek lawyer dealt with all connections with the outside world.

  The lawsuit brought against Spanidis to the International Court should have been considered over the course of a year. An entire battalion of lawyers was working for the Arabs, who intended to not only claim the inheritance and all their expenses, but also to make the architect liable for apparently blackmailing the young Sheikh. Archimedes' brother brilliantly parried every attack using documents that proved that the agreement was signed in good faith. However, the hosting state recalled the protectorate status of the site under pressure and demanded that Archimedes must stop the construction.

  The situation was growing dangerous. Archimedes had not even started the construction of the first floor yet. And then, his brother thought of an interesting idea.

  “What is we make your building recognized as an independent state?”

  “How will it solve our problems?” Archimedes did not understand.

  “No state may limit the sovereignty of another. That means that any claims against us will be void, as you will turn from a private landowner into the head of a small but independent country called Thermopolis.”

  “But I can't be the only citizen of this country!”