keskiviikko 25. joulukuuta 2019
Chapter 1.2
Vendetta
torstai 19. joulukuuta 2019
Chapter 1.1
Mike's Ford Raptor stopped at saloon. Black Mercedes SUV stood outside.
lauantai 23. marraskuuta 2019
Chapter I
lauantai 13. heinäkuuta 2019
Black rose
Wind blew hard outside. Its noise made the ones inside the ale house to touch up their coats and blankets. It was warm, but ruthlesness of the steppe was only a couple of feet away from them.
Then, the door opened. Or crashed open, would be better term, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Snow and freezing air stormed inside, like skeletons dancing around the room. All the eyes looked angrily at the one shameless enough to take the warmth away.
A small statured man strode to the table. Tall, black fur hat looked amusingly big for the man, being nearly as tall as he was. He had worn army overcoat, black trousers and boots needing some care. On his belt hang a cavalry saber, as worn as any other gear. His dark hair was wild, and boyish smirk glowed from those hollowed cheeks.
- What you'd have? asked the ale house keeper.
- A pint wouldn't make harm.
Keeper opened a valve and poured beer to the wooden pint. Guest took a long sip and smiled even more.
- Where are you coming from, keeper asked.
- I'm coming from Kyiv.
- Oh, I've heard there are those...those communists, bolsheviks and whatever. Bandits they are! Awful people, truly awful!
Guest just nodded keenly, mumbling something acceptable and sipped more of his beer.
Keeper and others started to relax. Guest seemed not to be one of them, dreaded communists, despite of his wild looks. Discussion started again, room began to be warm.
- Hey, you, go to feed the horses! You lazy little bastard! keeper suddenly shouted. A young, thin as leaf stableboy jumped into air and ran past the keeper, who slapped him to cheek.
- Oh my... These times, these times... World is being crazy, people rise against their kings and rulers... End of the world is near, hear me saying. I work my ass off so that those kind of lazy bastards can drink and whore around! keeper said behind his walrus moustache. Anger made his whole thick body to shake.
Time flew by, and the guest sipped last drops of his pint.
- Would you like more? keeper asked.
- No, thanks, this is enough, guest said.
- One kopek, keeper said. His voice was firm and his palm was demanding.
The guest smiled cheerfully and put his hand into the chest of his overcoat. He pulled it back, but instead of wallet he pointed a Nagant to the keeper's head and pulled the trigger.
The keepers corpse dropped like a sack of potatoes.
People jumped up horrified and looked at the guest.
- Comrads! This is the beginning of the new era! Mother-Anarchy has taken you to her warm comfort. This all, this all belongs to you now! It belongs to the people! Hail the revolution! Hail the workers and peasants! Dead to the kings, bourgeois and communists!
He was Nestor Makhno.
perjantai 3. elokuuta 2018
As they stood
They stood in rows, five to six men thick. Damp, misty air was sullen. Breeze of autum made men shiver, coldness crawled through lorica segmentata. Weird noises and howls had ecchoed at woods whole night. Men from North Africa, men from Sicily, men from Hispania had never experienced scenery like this. Woods were so dark and thick that they'd swallow armies without a hiccup. Tired and hungry they waited commands from their officers.
- Any signs of scouts?
- No. They left at morning. They should have been back by now.
Around centurias crews of Scorpios made their weapons ready. Auxiliaries stringed their bows. Legionaries made final checks on their gear.
- Horse! watchman shouted.
Lonely horse rambled through field of stumps, left after cutting trees for fortress. It had a rider.
Closer could be seen that rider had no head. His torso was strapped on the back of the horse.
- Movement!
A lonely man walked from same direction as the horse had come. He carried something in his hand. The man stopped just out of range of bows. He threw the thing on ground. Scout's bloody, liveless head rolled.
The man started shouting, sounding angry and arrogant at same time. He had a maille and colourful tunic. A sword hung on his waist.
Suddenly he stopped. Legionaries became. Silence continued couple heartbeats. Then, in shadow of the woods started howls, high pitch yells and deep growls. They came closer. Centurias shouted orders. Archers ran in front of ranks. Their hearts beated like they would like to tear from the chest. Fear and excitement flowed through veins.
Tree line started to crowd with warriors. Different clans separated from the rest, bearing colours and marks of kin. Some had shields. Most had spears. Some had big axes. With many hung smaller axes by belts. Leaders and best of hirds carried swords and helmets with nacelles.
Fortress was surrounded. Outer ring was made of barbarians, inner ring out of legionaries. The center was the fortress. Scorpios were winded up. Long steel arrows could pierce through a horse. Crews' muscles were warmed up. Their brothers in arms standing down below had had no change yet to warm themselves in cold. It seemed likely it was going to change.
- Can you hit the guy? NCO asked his Scorpio launcher.
- Perhaps. That bastard is nearly too far away.
The old man grapped his shield and draw out his sword. Barbarians leaped forward launching shivering howl.
- Archers! Pull! Launch!
- Scorpios! Launch!
Dozens of arrows flew through air. Archers launched them as rapidly as they could get strings pulled all the way back.
- Archers! Back!
After command archers started back pedaling and running. Scorpios continued to rain death above tribesmen. Heavy arrows could do serious harm even against shields.
- Prepare Pilums!
Legionaries grabbed their javelins and waited.
- Launch!
Enemy's archers stood at tree line and launched wild shots towards Romans. At that distance they couldn't do much harm through lamellar armor and shields, but there were always those lucky hits.
Tribesmen threw their own javelins and others started to poke with their spears. Roman shield wall stood unbreachable. Without form and order barbarians tried to find a way to bust war machine's defences.
As shafts broke and despair rose, they pulled their axes and swords and begun hacking. Sharp gladii stroke like vipers behind the scutums. Wild swings of savages met cool, calm thrusts. Most of tribesmen had little armor, so they fell fast. Hirdsmen were much touher for their maille protected them against swords. Still, slowly but surely hirdsmen after another begun fall, when wounds to arms and legs made them weak. Bodies of fallen hindered movement.
Tribesmen started to fall back. They were followed by accurate shots from Scorpios. Eventually there were only legionaries and wounded and dead barbarians. Field was full of gear, dropped or thrown away. When everything seemed clear, centurias ordered to check enemy bodies. Those still alive were killed, unless they seemed valuable hostages.
The battle was over, but war would continue to the death or victory.
* (Opening scene from Gladiator, made a little bit more realistic. No fire arrows, no armor cleaving swords, no odd leather armor, no dark furs.)
tiistai 15. toukokuuta 2018
Tomorrow
A man opened the door. He stepped outside. He started walking. Sun shined hot and unforgiving above his head. It was January.
He gasped his lungs full of air. Birches and other trees smelled. For a second he was back in memories of past, memories of his youth. But then it was gone. When the man was young, spring was long. Now, there was no spring. There was just summer.
Everything has changed, the man thought. And at the same time, nothing has.
He walked past couple of communal park bots. They slowed down until he was far enough. Then they continued their eternal labour.
Morning was silent. Only few people bothered to stick their heads outside at this time of day. Sweat glittered at man's forehead. I'm not young, the man sighed.
At the office athmosphere was convenient. The man walked to his work room through green corridors. Sound of running water echoed at the background.
- Good morning, Sir.
- Good morning, James, the man greeted his humanoid servant awkwardly. He had never been very keen about humanoid servants. They looked too much of human but they still had something that creeped him. Tell me being old fashioned, the man thought.
James - yes, his or its name was jokingly selected to be James - stood still for a moment.
- What do you want to do, Sir?
- How's it been going, James? In the production, I mean.
- Very well indeed, Sir. According to SUPROMA*, they have exceeded the goal by 13,5 percent. Machines run hot, if you may, Sir.
(*Supervision of PROduction MAnagement)
The man nodded.
- How about design? Have the drawings for a new solar panel factory been checked?
- Of course, Sir. AIDEMA* reports they have done all the drawings and calculations for the materials. They are waiting for your approval of bill of materials to order them.
(*Artificial Intelligence for Design and Manufacturing).
- Let's do that out of the way, shall we, James?
- Naturally, Sir.
The man approved further actions. Basically his work for this day was done. All the procedures runned automatically and pretty smoothly. The man remembered times when he was an young engineer and all the drawings and calculations had to be made manually. Nowadays... AI optimized far better than any man could, it was able to handle thousands of different criterias at the same time.
- What do you want to do next, Sir?
- If you don't mind to bring me a energy drink, James. As cold as you can.
James nodded. - But of course, Sir.
The man sinked into his chair. He had asked James to bring the drink just to be left alone. James was polite...but it wasn't a human being. It was just a collection of steel, wires and batteries. It was very good at pretending to be a man, but still it just...wasn't.
There was couple of ways of achieving intelligent behaviour. Some, like communal park bots, utilized older technology in form of hive mind. They were designed at the time when batteries lacked behind the evolution of computational power. So in order to save batteries in a single machines, designers created 'cloud mind' where all the computation was divided between all the machines. It made them pretty smart and was enough for the simple tasks those machines had to do.
James was a different kind of bot. It utilized leaps in quantum technology. First time in history designers were able to incorporated such a computational power in so small package. James was able to learn much faster than any bot before it. In part it was thanks to AI that designers created to build a language. Machine created a language for machines. Nobody knew exactly why it worked, but it did.
This had created new problems for the mankind. In a way it was ironical. First time in history you could do so much with so little effort. First time in history there was so little famine, so few diseases and wars. But at the same time humankind swelled in its own existential crisis.
It had nothing to do.
You could think new scale of freedom would have been a bless, but for many it was a curse. Some ripped themselves of the society and moved to live in the wilds. Sort of.
We don't know what to do with all the wealth, the man wondered. Creational work was very demanding for human psyche. Compared to AI humans looked like childish chimpanzees. Full of emotions and irrationalities.
One example the man remembered was couple a years ago when there was a war between Brazil and United States. Former utilized a secret weapon: AI management system for middle operational level. In simple terms, soldiers were led by a bot. Brazil won the war but they took more casualties than Americans.
That was the problem, the man thought. AI just didn't care. It won the war, all that matters. It was so focused, so task oriented that no man could compete with it.
- There's your drink, Sir. It is at the temperature of 7 degrees Celsius.
- Thank you, James. That's enough.
The man looked at his servant. James was a slave. But can a machine be slave, if it doesn't understand being a slave?
- James, what's meaning of life?
- Building, Sir. If you mean why to exist, Sir.
The man was astonished.
- Building? Just... like that?
- Did you expect something else, Sir?
- I... I don't know, the man gagged. - Should I?
- That may be too a broad question to answer, Sir. Do you feel anxiety?
- What..? Sometimes, yes.
- How about emptiness?
- Yes... but why..?
- It seems that you are suffering from existential crisis, Sir, combined with a depression. May I book you a appointment with a psychiatrist?
- Do you think I'm insane?!
- No, Sir. Insanity is a different kind of condition. Your symptoms don't match the descriptions.
- Fine, if it makes you happy.
- Thank you, Sir. I'm now happy, James said with broad smile and happy tone. The man felt a shiver.
- I'll go now, the man said.
- Have a good day, Sir. The psychiatrist will see your tomorrow at 8 o'clock, James greeted, still smiling.
Over my dead body, the man thought.
- You cannot meet her if you are dead, James yelled down the stairs.
**