“Peter, you are super,” Isaac smiled delightedly. “But I must admit that I was more concerned about hacking into the system and giving the Veggies their energy back. If Link happened to steal something from UNICOMA in the process, I couldn’t give a damn. They’re no friends of mine. Although, of course, it’s a pity the Professor turned out to be such a lowlife. He deserves a good lesson for that!”
“Oh, you still haven’t heard the end of my story. I took care of that too. I made a few calls to various editorial offices and told them Link would be at the American branch of UNICOMA in the former Guggenheim Museum. As proof, I even sent them a photo from my web camera. I knew he would be in disguise, but someone would recognize him anyway.”
“And what if he hadn’t been a traitor?”
“Then he would have gotten away through the side entrance with us,” shrugged Peter. Then he glanced at his watch and added: “By the way, it’s time we got out of here. We’re going to the airport. I’ve already bought tickets for the plane. The flight’s in two and a half hours.”
“Peter, but how did you know the Professor would leave on the lift?” Isaac inquired.
“I didn’t. But it’s quite logical. He’s not twenty years old, to go running along corridors. But even if he had it would make no difference -– to hell with him anyway.”
In the car, Isaac admired the city again. If everything worked out, he would be back here soon. With Michelle and Vicky. And maybe with Pascal, Bikie, and Peter. But right now he wanted to go home.
Epilogue
At the airport, the incredible news was showing on all the channels on all the screens. People thronged around the monitors. Everywhere it was “Breaking News”, “Professor Link Found,” “Scientific Genius is Back,” “Rioting Breaks Out in Veggie Colony in Queens,” “Happies Make Shocking Claims.”
Bikie and Isaac craned their necks and watched the reports along with everyone else, their eyes glued to the screens. “Happies Riot in Brooklyn and Staten Island,” “UNICOMA Does Not Comment,” “Professor Link’s Press Conference Set for 5p.m.”
“At the very least, we totally liberated New York,” Bikie whispered contently.
“That’s for sure. Today we’re definitely the world’s newsmakers. When we get home, we’ll celebrate big time!”
“I wonder if Pascal, Michelle, and Pellegrini are seeing this.”
“You bet they are!”
Bikie turned towards Isaac, lowered his eyes and said in a guilty voice:
“You know, I wanted to tell you something. I hope you’ll understand… I’m not flying out with you two, Isaac. I’ll come back, but not straight away. Michelle’s waiting there for you, and Vicky. You won’t have any time for me right now anyway. And I want to breathe the air here for a while. I’m absolutely loaded now. Yesterday I went into a Harley Davidson store and there was this real blast of a machine in there! I want it. Since I am in the States and I am rich, I’m going to buy that beauty and ride right across America. I can even meet the local boys and ride with them for a while, I’ll drop into Chicago and Vegas. I’m sure you understand, little bro. It’s an old dream of mine, and I don’t want to put it off any longer. Future is unpredictable, you know.”
Isaac gave Bikie a hug.
“Good luck, Bikie. I’ll tell you honestly, I will miss you. Hanging with you was cool and a lot of fun. Stay here, of course, I understand. And while you are at it, you can hide Link’s legacy somewhere good and safe.” Isaac handed Bikie the hack and the copy of the database.
“Good luck to you too, Isaac. Of course, hanging with you was pretty boring, not heavy, but…” Bikie smiled. “Ah, to hell with these wisecracks! Of course, it was awesome! I’m even sorry it is over!”
The guys hugged each other again and walked off in different directions.
Isaac looked out the plane window. He had changed the world irreversibly. After this, Collective Mind would be a matter for the police; let them now deal with the Agency, and the millions of Veggies all around the world. Isaac’s team had produced what was most important: enough evidence to put an end to the whole thing.
He recalled the news reports: the amazement and horror of the newly awoken Happies, the bewildered policemen, Professor Link, the spokesman of UNICOMA. Many of the former Happies wept, some from happiness and joy, others from grief at losing years of their lives.
Yes, the world will become more dangerous, but it will be itself again, the stars will come back to the sky and hits to music. The best minds would now understand the true value of their lives. After their fortunate rescue, they would never again agree to become Happies. It was as if some huge plane had crashed and everyone had survived. They had all been given a second chance, and they won’t blow it.
It was good that Pellegrini was on top of everything. Let them decide what to do now when and where to summon Isaac, Bikie and the main witnesses Pascal and Link. How everything would be done, through an urgent session of the UN itself or some other international organization, was none of Isaac’s concern. The important thing was that COMA and downloading would be stopped forever.
Isaac felt a lot better. Vicky would soon be completely well. Recalling his rating, he thought that they had given him five stars for a reason. In a year at most, he will earn money from his invention and buy a decent place to live because he couldn’t hang about at Wolanski’s place forever. Isaac felt different, new somehow new and free: from being a talented but unsuccessful inventor, he had become a self-assured individual. In the last few months, he had acquired some remarkable friends, one of whom he had brought back from the past by plucking him out of the quagmire of the “time machine.” But the most important thing was that he had won. And his victory made him worthy of a girl he would never even have dared to approach: the beautiful Michelle Blanche.
He was not worried about Link’s sinister prophecies because he was just an old man, protecting his creation with his head off. Not a single idiot will come back to Unicoma, that’s for sure. Maybe he was right and this type of artificial intellect was the safest. But did people need it? The world had been living without it, well, yes, dying from diseases, but advancing. Freedom is more valuable than a warm bath. You get tired of the warm bath one day. The idea is to have goals and chances to achieve them so let people make their choice. Isaac caught himself still mentally arguing with the Professor, which made him feel a little uneasy. “Inquisitors, war” were those words that firmly stuck in his head, like a splinter. No, the person who gives you your choice back can’t be considered inquisitor, by no means. “Wars for different spiritual values” was very well phrased. That was what happened between him and the Professor.
“Well, after all, we won,” he thought feeling tired of these thoughts. Soon he fell asleep.
***
Somewhere on the top floor of a Manhattan skyscraper, in the setting of a luxurious penthouse, the artist Andrei Sharov, an ex-Veggie, was sitting on a hugely expensive sofa. He felt like having a drink but there wasn’t anything. He sat there, turning his head stupidly from one wall to another. Hanging on the walls were high-quality reproductions of his pictures, which he remembered having sold to the owner of a little restaurant. Lying on the tables were brightly colored catalogs and magazines with articles extolling his talent.
A woman he didn’t know, who said she was there to look after him, explained that it was his apartment, and he had been living here for four years.
The artist simply couldn’t believe that he was so rich and famous. He thought he must have gone crazy, or it was all just some beautiful dream.
Gratitude Page
I am happy that I achieved what I dreamed of, that is to print my first science fiction novel.
A thanks goes to Richard Bach, who last year heard me saying that I wanted to finish my book, the one that I started and quit several years ago. Due to this half promise, my goal transformed from being abstract and being an eternally tomorrow into a specific one.
Another thank y
ou, goes to his wife Sabrina who connected me with Richard.
To Maya Azbukina because she collected and systematized all of my notes, helped me to organize my creative chaos and create the manuscript.
Special thanks to Alex Malenkov who gave me a precious advice on the protagonist when I first attempted to finish the book in 2012.
I am especially grateful to my mother who made me love reading, for the most part, fantasy fiction.
Also, to Facebook. By giving a public promise to my friends both from real life and the internet, I consciously put myself in a corner and thus I could get out it only with the book.
V. Klyukin
Original version edited by Maya Azbukina
English language translation by Andrew Bromfield 2015
American English translation and proof reading by Alex Goldfarb, Sofia Bakhurina
Edited by James Gregory
Copy-edited by Dina Kunets
Translation assistance by Agniya Mirgorodskaya and Maya Azbukina
Production by Maya Azbukina
Cover design by Vasily Klyukin
Cover Illustration by Michael Tsaturyan
Monaco 2016
Collective Mind Page 37