This year, the winter was harsh. Despite the mountains, both real and artificial, and climate control systems, by the new year of 1953, the territory of Enterprise "3826" was buried in snow. Dmitry Sergeyevich even gave the go-ahead, and the flying platforms were moved south, towards Alma-Ata, where nature behaved more calmly and predictably. The planned launch of an automatic station towards Mars was canceled. To the displeasure of the staff and scientists, it was postponed to the end of the year, so the New Year holidays were slightly overshadowed for the employees who had worked overtime for a month to launch the apparatus by the holiday.
And the country desperately needed good news! At the end of the year, an arctic fox arrived in Moscow, plunging some figures into an unpleasant situation. A slow, but another struggle for power and authority began in the party offices, which was a usual affair. At plenums and party meetings, something unimaginable sometimes happened, which spread among the people in the form of anecdotes. Our General Secretary, with his famous "shoe," only made things worse. After the failures of his domestic policy, such antics only caused dull irritation among the workers, and unhealthy ferment among the intelligentsia. They were just waiting to gossip! They would lift their upper lip and start: "Oh, how bad everything is, oh, how wrong everything is!"
From them came the rumor of a new wave of purges, but in a strange way. Usually, arrests and executions began, and then they would howl, crying like victims, about soul crushers and satraps. This time, the "warming up" of the people began back in September, before the first loud cases in the newspapers. As they told over a mug of tea, our committee members, someone carefully posted a pile of compromising materials on the people's network, in free access. Forum visitors and online meetings quickly spread this information, and then the people's announcers and electronic journalists joined in, starting their "people's investigations," confirming the truthfulness of the posted data.
The Lubyanka, and those higher up, didn't have time to react, and the cat was out of the bag. Our Wizard also stirred things up by conducting an internal investigation, which resulted in the storming of Maya Plisetskaya's theater, the arrest of Comrade Petrov, who was leaking secret information to the FBI, and a number of engineers who helped him obtain secret information. Some were even shot, but most had their social index lowered, their social points removed, and were turned into labor prisoners. They would now atone for their guilt with labor for the glory of the Motherland, the bastards!
Our detachment was responsible for all these scoundrels, for which the "Sh" department got it later. Feathers flew from the committee members. The army security of the Enterprise also suffered. The commandant and the political commissar were removed from their positions, and the officer staff was significantly thinned out when the low motivation and poor political training of the personnel were revealed.
Comrade Molotov himself even arrived here with a team of auditors. Under this guise, they wanted to shake up the Enterprise. In short, as Zinaida Petrovna told, he yelled so much that his tonsils were visible! He kept promising to bring the scientific council to justice for negligence.
Only our Wizard is not a simpleton; he took the floor at the All-Union Party meeting and raised this issue, complaining about the mess, accurately and aptly quoting Molotov's words, thereby adding yeast to the foul-smelling story. The party had to react, so they gave the order, unleashing the "bloody comb." They just didn't account for the fact that due to the incident at the Enterprise, the comrades were too invigorated. On the wave of high motivation and enthusiasm, they checked all the rumors.
If their "Corn Planter" had tamed them, nothing would have happened, but he sat quietly, feeling the stool of his post shaking under him. If he moved, a fashionable hemp tie would tighten around his neck, and the stool would be kicked out with a good kick of a boot clad in a кирзовый сапог. Therefore, more and more things surfaced by New Year's...
The events only affected Katya and me indirectly. We were undergoing full rehabilitation, so we didn't have time for high politics. Argon took care of us personally. You can't slack off with him, and he doesn't understand jokes. Approaching the matter thoroughly, he took the specification for our implant configuration from the doctors, and a training hell began for us. He rarely attended the embodiment, but we got enough of a beating. It was unpleasant, damn it, but we both got it. Especially me.
The day before yesterday, we were deemed fit for further service, and today they sent "Flip" for us – a small magnetic levitation air taxi with an engine similar to the "Icarus" propellers. Dmitry Sergeyevich really didn't like how he was once tossed around in the "Turbine." And who invented flying in a car suspended on cables?
The aircraft quickly delivered us to the detachment's barracks, where the new recruits were "dying" on the obstacle course. The commander had still pushed the Wizard to increase the number of testers. In view of recent events and knowing that we knew, this was a logical step.
Argon met us silently, gesturing for us to follow him. Entering the warmly heated building, we went up to the second floor to his office.
"Agents Plutonium and Spark are ready for further service," I reported, as the senior in rank.
"At ease. Sit down," the commander waved me off. "Congratulations on your return. You even have a job already."
With a nod, Argon pointed to the electric samovar, setting an example by pouring himself some tea. After taking a sip of the liquid, scalding from the frost, he began to tell us the details of the upcoming mission:
"An order has come from 'Korolev' and 'Vavilov'. Have you heard that the launch failed?" Seeing our nods, our father-commander continued. "The scientific council decided to temporarily redirect personnel. At the meeting, they approved the schedule for testing equipment for the future manned mission to Mars. I nominated your candidacies for the positions of senior testers, as well as commander and deputy commander of the expedition's security forces, concurrently. Any questions?"
"When and where?" I asked, exchanging glances with my wife.
"Departure is tomorrow, and as for where... that's interesting. What got into those smart guys' heads, I can't say, but they chose a place in the middle of nowhere. So, comrades, you'll be guarding not only scientists but also penguins at the South Pole. As the scientists say, the conditions in some valleys there are harsher than on the Red Planet."
"Anyone else from our group?" Katya clarified after a short pause.
"All the rookies. It's too risky to send them into the field yet, but they'll do as testers. A fresh perspective on technology... all that. And you'll get back into the swing of things."
I took a sip of tea. Swirling the drink on my tongue, I asked the commander: "Are you sending us off?"
"Then I wouldn't be talking to you without ranks and titles, comrades," the seasoned reconnaissance veteran retorted. "Based on the expedition's results, I will recommend you for advanced training courses at the General Staff Academy and for the assignment of extraordinary ranks."
Judging by the way Katya's face stretched, she hadn't expected that either.
"Understand me correctly..." Argon decided to explain, choosing his words carefully. "You know yourself what kind of shit we've ended up with. It's already starting to surface. What's circulating in rumors and leaked to the newspapers is only a small part. When you chop down a forest... chips fly. Our Wizard has started his game, a cunning one as usual. A lot is supposed to happen before the launch of 'Kollektiv 2.0'... He's doing it, and you know it. You'll learn the details if you don't screw up. I want to make you my successors, just in case. We are all mortal, and with the shit that's brewing, you can die in a heartbeat. To answer why you specifically, I'll say this... You've already been through the wringer. You have experience. After Bulgaria, you won't be able to take things by storm, but you will take risks if necessary. You, Sergey, easily find common ground with people. And you, Katya, will break this bull's horns if needed. Therefore, you can refuse now without consequences. Leave the office and get lost... I won't give you a second chance. We're not playing games. Is everything clear?"
"Yes, Comrade Commander!" we answered in unison, snapping to attention.
"At ease... jesters. There was no 'attention' command," the commander frowned. "Your answer?"
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"That's wonderful," Argon squinted with satisfaction, like a cat that had gorged on sour cream. Opening a desk drawer, he pulled out a stack of papers. "And now for the most tedious part, since you've agreed. Read and sign..."
We left the office an hour later. We had to sign a hell of a lot. If we screwed up, we wouldn't get away with just a reprimand this time.
"Maybe we shouldn't have?" my wife asked into the void.
"And would we have been able to continue then?" I answered her remark instead of the universe. "We're already operating under 'secrecy.' We'll bring more benefit to the Motherland."
"Only then we were responsible only for ourselves... But you're right! It would have been easier to resign immediately."
"That's true. But now we'll definitely find out what the Wizard is up to. Those half-hints of his are getting on my nerves..."
"Someday he'll outsmart himself!" Katya declared in an unyielding voice.
The preparations were brief. We didn't unpack our emergency duffel bags. We were issued paratrooper backpacks from the warehouse. Weapons would be issued before boarding the 'Kondor' in the detachment's armory. We would receive polymer manipulators at the Antarctic base. They have all the equipment for their installation there.
My mother-in-law cooked enough for a week's journey. Fortunately, there were special containers. The food would stay warm in the spatial storage. It would be nice to have some cutlets in the land of penguins.
Well, Zinaida Petrovna could be understood. She later hypnotized the family album for half a century. I liked the photo of Katya in her Pioneer uniform. It was even retouched specifically, colored in its time. It turned out like a portrait. Nowadays, you can take a color photo, even if it's not a cheap pleasure. And before the war, even a black-and-white photo could be problematic...
We boarded. We took off. The flight was supposed to be long, so I decided to talk to the scientific fraternity. Maybe I'd gain some wisdom, but that's not guaranteed.
I learned a lot of new things. After sending the automatic station to Venus, when we received an image of the surface and the atmospheric composition, everyone somehow realized the futility of colonizing it at the moment. Everyone thought there was water up to their eyeballs. Korolev even ordered special sugar seals to be installed on the apparatus, but it turned out that it was not only hellish but also had useful acid rains. In short, we had to think.
Projects began to be developed at the Enterprise, but the direction of manned flights towards Venus was temporarily halted, and personnel were redirected to Mars. Projects were already ready on paper, even for restoring its magnetic field and increasing gravity. They planned to modernize the 'Burans' for Martian conditions and reach the planet's core. In short, there were grand plans. But first, they wanted to send a manned expedition, not just to touch the surface and collect some pebbles, but to establish a settlement, creating the first colony.
The flight was already planned for the fifty-seventh year. Now we would be testing spacesuits and other astronaut gear. The smart guys want to do everything thoroughly, so that ready-made solutions can be applied to other planets, or even create something universal right away. At our Enterprise, they not only make money but also know how to save it!
We reached our destination without incident, though it wasn't exactly fun. The 'Kondor' is a huge beast, but you can't do much in a ground-effect vehicle. It flies almost at ground level, so you can't admire the scenery much. Moreover, we mostly stayed over water, even though it made the flight longer.
All that was left was to read or sleep. We'd have plenty of time to talk at the base, until we were blue in the face.
The Union had thoroughly developed Antarctica, much to the displeasure of some. The technology allowed it. Robots were building a whole city under a dome somewhere in the south of the continent. They even dug up some mountain for this purpose.
At one time, the continent was sifted through a fine sieve. The fascists had plans to build a base there, but no one wanted to check what they had come up with. They only found an expedition frozen in the ice. After the Plague began, there was no one to remember it. So they froze to death, and the proud Aryans, in their hunger, ate each other. Fortunately, there were robots, otherwise, it would have been much harder to find.
We arrived at the 'Salyut' research station, which was also the first permanent settlement on the continent. It was also a port, an airfield, and a naval base. However, the sailors didn't like this base, and being assigned here was considered exile. They were reluctant to come here even for a ruble. Only enthusiasts-volunteers or hardcore screw-ups came here.
The location was chosen because of a convenient bay and proximity to hydrocarbon deposits. Oil, in short. It was fuel, heat, and food. Synthesizers were fueled by it. It tasted slightly spicy, but it was tolerable.
The expedition brought seeds for the giant greenhouses that had been built. The problem with vitamins was quite acute even for Soviet science, so they decided to solve it naturally, while also testing colonization technologies for other planets. And for a population of five thousand people, a lot of food was required. And not just any food, but varied food. Entertainment was scarce here, for now. If the food were also lousy...
The technicians we flew with said that gaming machines and carriers with three new computer games would arrive in the next shipment. I would be interested in playing them.
Katya, on the other hand, wanted to visit the ice opera. Local craftsmen had built an entire ice building from ice cut by lasers, which was then written about in all the world's newspapers. Even some famous troupe had given a concert there. The recordings were indeed impressive.
At the research station, we equipped ourselves with spacesuits, got into an all-terrain vehicle, and headed to the testing area with a group of scientists from 'Korolev'. The 'Vavilov' crew remained at the facility awaiting our return.
We tested three categories of protective spacesuits. One looked like a bipedal tank. The composite thickness of its hull was about a good palm's width, and the servomotors were as thick as a boa constrictor. I wish I had such a suit during the war...
Katya and I were assigned light-category spacesuits. As the smart guys said, it was supposed to work by tensioning the hull material. It fit like a wetsuit, but much more comfortably. Special polymer fibers were added to the rubber, which allowed the suit to contract when a current of a certain frequency was applied, adjusting the spacesuit to the figure.
I remember having to put on a diver's suit on one mission. It was still a bit small for me. They only managed to get it on me with the help of sunflower oil. There was nothing else at hand. Katya joked for a month that it smelled like fried potatoes.
Only the helmet and the backpack with the life support system were solid in the spacesuit. It was intended for surface work. In the end, the engineers made a convenient and, most importantly, practical item. Only the heavy spacesuit for long expeditions caused complaints. Too little mobility and delayed actuator response. The medium one, which looked more like a regular spacesuit, also caused no complaints.
The trouble started on the way back. The group was simply attacked. They even managed to hit one of the tracked all-terrain vehicles with a bazooka. The saboteurs were well-camouflaged. If we hadn't been there, they would have captured the Enterprise workers.
We repelled the direct firefight with the operatives. The robots apprehended the rest of the group. They were well prepared. They even deployed a radio jammer, but the polymer sensors were completely indifferent to the device's operation. So the "guys" had no chance. You can't escape a drone with a thermal imager and a new bioform scanner in the tundra.
While the robots were escorting them, a helicopter reached us, and then a rather boring shooting range began from its side. It was harder to take anyone alive. The attackers had cyanide ampoules for this purpose. They knew that if they were captured, they would sing like canaries. The Wizard did not approve of torture but understood the necessity of obtaining information, so he ordered the 'Mendeleev' laboratories to brew a particularly potent purgative. The truth serum turned out to be really effective, but it damaged the liver considerably.
However, no one had to be "injected." Everything resolved itself. While we were chasing the group, a distress signal came to the station. As the sailors later recounted, the commander of the American submarine didn't know about the phenomenon called a "finger of death" under the ice. This is when a stream of fresh water, seeping from the ice into saltwater, instantly begins to freeze. It forms an icy tongue that rapidly freezes entire sections of the seabed, bringing death to all the life there, which turned out to be abundant.
The Americans didn't know about this circumstance, so their submarine was accidentally frozen into the ice. Naturally, the submarine commander had instructions for such a situation... but the inexperienced crew was not ready to die, having previously sunk their submarine. Simple guys subdued the officers, gave them a few slaps, and sent out a distress signal.
And we had to rescue them! The light spacesuits easily served as scuba gear. You just had to keep an eye on the charge of the polymer battery, which couldn't keep up with replenishing the emergency accumulator. The 'Malyutka' bathyscaphes couldn't work there. Fresh water was still flowing from the cracks, threatening to freeze them too.
Nothing significant happened for the rest of the six-month expedition. Except that we managed to get a tan the color of chocolate. The sun there bakes intensely. Out of boredom, we started helping the scientists on a voluntary basis. The marine biologists even expressed their gratitude. We helped them make some breakthrough. However, it's not important.
We returned to the Enterprise for a short time. After reporting to the Wizard, we learned that Argon was on a mission. We were given a day to sleep, and then put on a train to Moscow. The commander kept his threat and shoved us into the academy for advanced training...