Иван Перепелятник
The Before Short Story Series. Part 1
But even during this seemingly not too long a flight, space tourists needed to be entertained: all kinds of films and TV series suiting every taste, a Lunar café appropriate for the purpose and a telescope giving a chance to explore a number of planets of the solar system and other more distant objects to be studied during the flight. In the absence of the Earth’s atmosphere, which did not interfere with observations in outer space, the third option was quite in demand among passengers. It was also not forbidden to socialize with each other, read or just sleep.
‘Dear passengers, welcome aboard the Luna-7 shuttle. Our flight on the route of Federation International Space Station-Armstrong Lunar Spaceport will take no more than 16 hours. Stewards Olga and Philip will be happy to help you throughout the flight.’
The shuttle undocked from the station almost soundlessly and began to maneuver slowly, reaching the required flight path. Acceleration went very smoothly and unnoticed by passengers. It wasn’t as tough as the launch of a spaceship on the Earth at all. This time Lewis was sitting next to the porthole. Meryl settled next to him. The station was rapidly moving away and in a minute it was no longer visible against the background of a bright blue planet.
Lewis pressed the button to call the steward:
‘Good evening, Mrs Stern, Mr Podger. How can I help you,’ Olga got closer to them and hovered next to them, holding on to the handrail.
‘Could you bring us two rugs please. We’re a little cold.’
‘Of course, Mr Podger. You can also turn on seat heating. Here are the appropriate controls,’ Olga pointed to the buttons on the panel built into the armrest.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m so tired, dear,’ Lewis said to his wife… ‘Here you go… she’s already asleep.’
‘So we’re going to sleep after all.’ Carefully covering his wife with a blanket, Lewis pressed the button—the back of the chair lowered levelling with the seat, from under which an additional leg pillow was pushed out. His chair became the bed on which he settled down to sleep.
‘Mrs Stern, Mr Podger… Mrs Stern, Mr Podger,’ Olga lightly touched Meryl’s shoulder.
Meryl shuddered, waking up from the persistent attempts of the stewardess to wake them up:
‘What? What is it?’
‘It’s all right, Mrs Stern. Everything is fine. We are landing in less than 30 minutes.’
‘Have we slept for 16 hours?!’
‘Not really, Mrs Stern. It’s been 11 hours since we undocked from the station. The captain used a new improved operating mode for the engine, which significantly reduced the flight time.’
‘That’s good news, dear. Thanks. Now we’re… getting ready.’
Meryl looked at her husband, hovering over the armchair bed, next to which he was held by seat belts during the flight.
‘Lewis, dear, it’s time to wake up. Lewis. Lewis!’ Lewis was snoring softly. ‘Lewis!’ Meryl patted him on the shoulder. ‘Lewis, wake up. You will miss all the most interesting things sleeping like that.’
Overboard, fantastic and at the same time alien to human consciousness, lunar landscapes were replacing one another: small craters and the consequences of collisions with the distant messengers of the turbulent formation of the stellar system, which had been imprinted for millions of years; black spots gaping on the gray body of the satellite, in which nothing could be seen; huge boulders and stones; hilly fields of regolith and endless plains of emptiness. There, on the lifeless surface of the Moon, the gaze of a traveller who had just arrived from the planet with its life represented in such a bright and exuberant manifestation, was especially sensitive and receptive. A unique, priceless gift of the universe had become so familiar on the Earth that many began to take it for granted, stopped appreciating it. On the Moon, in the contrast of life and absolutely sterile emptiness, an understanding of the infinite value of the gift to humanity available on the native planet was manifested.
The shuttle was rapidly approaching its destination, the surface of the satellite was getting bigger.
There were three bases on the Moon. The first and the main, the largest, International Lunar Base Hipparchus was located on the southern border of the Mare Nubium. About 9,000 people were constantly engaged working in its four sectors—scientific, military, industrial and tourist. 99% of the infrastructure of the Hipparchus base was located below the surface, which allowed solving a number of problems, including severe temperature fluctuations caused by solar exposure, radiation, meteor showers. Prior to choosing the site for construction of the base, a long-term seismological research had been carried out, starting with the Apollo program in the 20th century. It prooved that the particular satellite zone was optimal from the point of view of moonquakes.
Despite the positive data on low tectonic activity in the Mare Nubium region, the indicators of moonshakes did not exceed 2.5 on the Richter scale, the construction of the base was carried out taking into account the most stringent standards. As a result, according to the design documentation, Hipparchus should have withstanded loads 3 times higher than the possible destructive impact of the satellite. Despite the fact that such an additional reliability of the project accounted for 7% of its total cost of $300 trillion, no one had any doubts about the expediency of such an approach. The reliability of the complex operations and safety of employees, requirement to minimize all possible risks was the basic rule guiding the coordination council of the lunar base construction at all stages, starting with the design. Despite the engineering achievements in the field of rocket engines and fuel systems, which had significantly reduced the time required to deliver cargo from the Earth, in the event of an emergency, the personnel of the lunar base would have to be self-reliant. The number of such potential crisis situations had to be brought down.
The ship slowed down. Gradually turning around, the shuttle started descending slowly through the opened gates of the landing shaft located below the surface of the Moon. A few minutes after the engines were turned off, a passenger telescopic airstairs locked on to the hull.
‘What fun it is to feel the weight of your own body again,’ Lewis finally recovered after the flight and was in a great mood. ‘After all I’ve got some weight again!’
After zero gravity in outer space, gravity on the Moon seemed quite sufficient for moving comfortably.
‘Dear ladies and gentlemen! The Luna-7 spacecraft landed at the Hipparchus International Lunar Base. Thank you for choosing the New Horizons company to travel to the Moon. Please do not leave your belongings in the cabin of the ship. We wish you exciting adventures on the Moon! All the best to you! We are waiting to see you again on board the New Horizons lunar shuttles!’
Modernists on the Moon
Having settled in their room on the third level of the tourist sector, Meryl and Lewis headed to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. The restaurant was one of those rare places on the Moon where one could watch the lunar landscape out of huge portholes. Armored portholes with built-in light filters automatically let just enough sunlight into the room to make guests feel safe and comfortable. The star-studded sky and the fantastic view of the Moon boulders scattered across the Sea of Clouds provided the restaurant with a five-star rating, even though the choice of dishes there was noticeably limited in comparison to the similar venues at the station.
Having made the order, Meryl and Lewis started looking around at the restaurant interior and visitors.
‘Good morning. Sorry to bother you. Are you Meryl Stern?’ A young woman approached the table where the couple was sitting.
‘Good morning. And who are you actually?’ Meryl replied warily.
‘I am Alessandra Bucinni from the Milan Gallery of Contemporary Art.’
Not hiding her surprise, Meryl was studying the stranger.
‘You work at the Guggenheim Museum, right?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Meryl confirmed.
‘We are doing a small exhibition of paintings by European modernists here in the cultural center. It would be a pleasure to invite you.’ Alexandra looked at Lewis, too.
‘My husband, Lewis Podger,’ Meryl introduced her husband, who was listening to the ladies’ conversation.
‘It is good to hear that art has already reached the Moon.’
‘Yes, it has. And we are glad with the opportunity to be part of this new process right here on the Moon. It’s an amazing experience. I’m sorry I’ve distracted you. The exhibition is on the first level, next to the main hall. Please come. Enjoy your meal.’
‘Thank you, Alexandra. It’s good that you came over.’
‘What’s all this about, Meryl?’
‘I don’t know exactly, dear. They’ve sent me a request for our Kandinsky collection. They’re asking to support their young artists. Tora had sent me their request back in New York. I haven’t made a decision yet. An amazing coincidence. To meet someone here on the Moon,’ Meryl tapped her index finger on the table, ‘the one with whom you communicate at home. It does look strange somehow… Or maybe she wants me to write some kind of review on the works of their young artists. Oh, I don’t know… So much for her!’
‘We are either becoming something more than just a civilization of the Earth, or our big village has simply expanded a little.’
‘Lewis, we’ve got out of the Earth for a long time, as you might remember. We have already a primary settlement on Mars.’
‘Yes, you’re right, Meryl—the village is growing up slowly.’
They smiled at each other.
A Seminar Room
‘Mrs Stern, Mr Podger, follow me, please. I’m from the Hipparchus Base security service.’
‘Who are you and strictly speaking, what is it?!’ Lewis took Meryl by the hand and turned to the young man who unexpectedly interrupted them while getting acquainted with the exhibits of the Museum of the Moon History.
‘Please come with me. You’ll be explained everything. Please, let’s not make a row here. I’m asking you to come with me.’
‘Listen, what’s the problem?! Confirm your credentials first. Which way could we know that you are from the security service, and not a terrorist!’ Meryl’s pulse started racing.
‘You’re welcome. All the information is available on your communicator, Mrs Stern.’
Meryl took out her communicator and carefully scanned the information about the employee of the Hipparchus station security department.
‘It is impossible to forge one’s digital passport,’ her anxiety intensified, ‘what could have happened so that a 170-year old couple had to be urgently pulled out of the Museum of the Moon History in broad daylight!’
The security officer, Lewis and Meryl were sitting at a large rectangular glass table. The table top, the base on which it rested, the chairs in the room—everything was transparent. The walls, floor and ceiling lined with video panels created a single visual space, bringing over the participants to any environment, historical event or any place in space.
The panels located on the floor were displaying the lunar surface. On the wall opposite Lewis and Meryl, where the young station officer was sitting, there was a blue ball with playfully twisted cloud spirals hanging in perspective.
‘Apparently, this room is used for seminars and presentations. It’s beautiful, but somehow it doesn’t feel right here… you feel like you’re going to start suffocating from the lack of air—it’s all too realistic,’ Meryl looked around.
An inscription appeared on the wall: ‘Welcome to the Museum of the Moon History! Let’s start our journey!’
‘On the other hand, we would hardly feel more confident if we were in an interrogation room with an iron table and chairs bolted to the floor,’ Meryl continued reflecting. Lewis, sitting next to her, was tapping his fingers on the table.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Stern, Mr Podger,’ a man, about 120-130 years old in an officer’s uniform briskly entered the room. ‘My name is Ilya Tochkov. I am the senior security officer of the Hipparchus Lunar Station.’
Ilya combed his gray hair with his hand, poured himself a glass of water, pressed something on the control panel built into the table—a photo of Alessandra Bucinni, whom Meryl and Lewis had met a few hours ago at a restaurant for breakfast, appeared on the wall.
‘The thing is, Mrs Stern and Mr Podger, your Trackers have been hacked. And it was through them that, there were attempts taken to penetrate the PAX quantum system here at the Lunar Base.’
Meryl and Lewis didn’t move.
‘What do you mean hacked. It’s impossible,’ Lewis seemed to come to his senses.
‘Unfortunately, it turns out to be possible, Mr Podger. Possible.’
‘Perhaps. Let’s say. I don’t understand anything! What do us and the PAX have in common, why anything needs to be hacked, and this girl there!’ Meryl pointed at the screen.
‘The story is quite interesting. This girl, Mrs Stern, is exceptionally resourceful, and got down to business creatively. Attempts to hack both the Tracker and the PAX system have not stopped for decades. Unfortunately, your case, I think, will not be the last. The first contact with you, Meryl, the so called Alessandra Bucinni—her real name is Petra Orzhanka—tried to establish more than once during 8 months in the States. This is how we understand the situation at the moment. I would note that the investigation is not over yet. In the end, she managed to get partial access to your digital passport just recently. The folder with documents that your employee at the museum handed you allegedly with a request from a gallery in Milan, actually contained a built-in Tracker hacking system. The problem is, Mrs Stern, that it takes a considerable amount of time for this miniature system to provide full access to your chip. Any electronic system requires power, and the system of an active cyber-hacking chip even more so. The electronic components power supply embedded in the folder, I have to admit, is an extremely talented solution. The electromagnetic waves that surround us everywhere contain sufficient energy for the functioning of this low-voltage electronic pick-lock, so to speak. The energy of the waves remained to be collected and accumulated. But, as I noted, such a scheme works slowly. Luckily for you. A more powerful system would require a more capacious power supply.’
‘What’s that got to do with me? Why did I get into the focus of attention of some crazy hackers?’
‘Mrs Stern, you are far from the only one on the list of this group who was attacked.’ Orzhanka does not work on her own. We believe that they are connected with divergents and with a hacker group in Russia. We have recorded several dozens of such digital attacks in the U.S. alone. But they were especially lucky with you.
The PAX system at the lunar base is protected by several different protocols. Of course, for obvious reasons, I will not go into details. I’ll just note this. Firstly, there was a little more chance for them to penetrate, to hack the PAX through the base on the Moon than on the Earth. And, secondly, the main word here stands for was. Since now this, let’s say, back door has been already closed. The second time,’ continued Ilya, ‘Petra got into contact with you already here on the Moon, when you were having your breakfast. That’s when your Tracker was finally hacked, Mrs Stern.’
‘Are you saying that a couple of minutes of our communication with her were enough?’
‘That’s right. All she had to do was finish the work she had started in your office at the museum.’
‘Once again, Officer, I still don’t quite understand why they need me. If they flew to the Moon with their hacking system, why not do all the work themselves on the spot? They won’t interfere with themselves?!’
‘Meryl, the reasons are obvious. Your social status in society is slightly different from the achievements of Orzhanka after several years of her residence in the U.S. It is your name that provides you not only access to certain places, first of all, the level of your credebility is different. Secondly, why should they expose themselves when they can entrust the dirty work, so to speak, to be done by someone else.’
‘This is a complete nonsense.’ Meryl started rubbing her temples with her fingertips.
‘Let’s say for a while,’ Meryl continued, ‘what does Lewis have to do with it in such a case?’
‘Mr Podger, can you add something from your side?’
‘What do you mean, Officer?’
‘Can you guess, do you have any assumptions, where and under which circumstances an unauthorized contact with your Tracker could have occurred? Where could your Tracker have been hacked?’
‘No. I hardly understand what’s going on here and what we’re talking about!’
‘I see, Mr Podger. I should note that we don’t have the whole picture yet either. There are a number of assumptions about where, who and how they could have contacted you…’
‘I have no idea, Officer, where this hacking or attack, what did you call it, could have occurred.’
‘The basic reason determining the potential attractiveness of your chips, Meryl and Lewis, is as follows. You, as wealthy people, were among the first to implant these modules many years ago, when the relevant technology became available. As you understand, over the past hundred years, many changes have taken place in microelectronics. Unfortunately, your chip models are more vulnerable at the hardware level, rather than bugs in the software.
What we’d suggest to do promptly,’ after a short pause the senior officer Tochkov continued, ‘is to flash your chips here and now, which will ensure the required level of their reliability and smooth operation.’
‘I would prefer such an upgrade made by specialists on the Earth in full compliance with the regulations and safety requirements. I think it’s the right thing to do,’ Meryl looked at the gray-haired man sitting in front of her.
‘Of course, hypothetically, you can do that, Meryl. But in this case, you and your husband will have to be isolated, because, once again, I stress it, your Tracker has been hacked and is now configured to attack the infrastructure of the PAX system on the Moon. We just have no right to let you out and let you walk around the station. All and any of your actions and movements entail risks for its regular operation. Your very presence determines the risk of the system being hacked. It is exactly for this task that your chips have been now programmed. Yours, Meryl, and that of Lewis. All this is not some joke. The situation is extremely serious. The most straightforward and prompt solution, completely painless and safe, is to do flashing of the Tracker in a medical laboratory by an authorized specialist.’
‘My God! This is madness!’ Meryl’s thoughts were confused.
‘What do you think, Lewis?’ she turned to her husband.
‘I don’t even know what to say. The officer says the situation is serious. I agree—it’s extraordinary. I can’t remember a bearer’s Tracker being hacked without someone realizing it. The Tracker’s operating system is provided with a quantum…’
‘Lewis, Meryl, I do understand your concern. Believe me. If my Tracker had been hacked, I wouldn’t be here anymore—they would have definitely sent me back to the Earth in a sealed virtual digital container. And would have isolated me here on the Moon. Let’s make a decision and get over this problem!’
‘Lewis, secured by quantum…—secured by what? You didn’t finish.’ Meryl looked at her husband carefully.
‘Meryl, what’s all this got to do with it!’ Ilya interjected, interrupting again.
‘Secured by quantum encryption. Which means that it is theoretically impossible to hack the system.’ Lewis was looking at Meryl.
For a second, everyone in the room went silent.
‘I have to leave you for a couple of minutes now,’ Ilya said, checking the time. ‘When I get back, we’ll have to go to the laboratory, dear all.’
Casting a quick glance at his young colleague, who had brought Lewis and Mary into the room for exemplary presentations, Ilya Tochkov left as quickly as he had come in.
‘Let me get you some water,’ the junior officer said to the elderly couple. ‘These screens here have made my throat a little dry.’
‘Thank you,’ Lewis said after the officer leaving the room.
‘I mean, Meryl! I can’t believe we’ve got into such a trouble here!’
‘Almost got, dear! Don’t you understand?! They want to con us! I think they wanted to. Like old and naïve idiots, they just wanted to con! Oh, my God!’ Meryl slammed her fist on the table.
‘Well, yes! Wanted and did it! Hacked the damn chips, Meryl!’
‘They haven’t hacked anything, Lewis! They want to do this to us! Call the security service now!’
I love you
Meryl sat down helplessly in a chair in the hotel room and burst into tears.
‘Meryl, are you so upset about these crooks? They aren’t the first nor the last in our lives. They are not worth it… God, what’s wrong with you, darling?! Meryl, what’s happened?! Lewis knelt down in front of Meryl and hugged her. ‘What is it, Meryl?! Tell me… Meryl…’ Lewis almost whispered.
Meryl was shaking all over… She was crying and couldn’t utter a word…
‘I… I… I’m sorry, please, Lewis!’ she continued crying.
Meryl knelt down next to her husband and hugged him tightly…
‘It’s okay, sweetheart… please…’ Lewis soothed Meryl, gently stroking her on her head.
‘I thought for a moment that…’ Meryl started saying through tears nearly choking, ‘I thought that you had arranged it… You tried…’ endless despair was braking through Meryl’s sobs.
‘Forgive me… Forgive me! Sorry!’
Meryl and Lewis were kneeling in front of each other and crying.
‘I love you, Meryl.’
