Abandoned World: The Awakening

– I take it you didn't have a good time in Texas? – he finally said.

– Not really… You can't argue… Have you ever wondered why our blocks are called that? Like

states?

– No… Somehow I never thought about it… But they are quite logically located on the sides

of the world.

– That's true. But then why is the station itself called Apollo and not America or the United States, for example? We are told that we live in the former USA in North America. Would that make sense? Or if it's a city, why not just call it that city?

– Natalie, this kind of talk… You've only known me for a couple months and already you trust me so much....

– All right. If you can't be trusted, then I'll know… And I'll know what a bore you are. Now

do you see why you're talking about something you can't call life? Everybody's either horny or boring. Sometimes both at the same time.

It sometimes seemed to her that it was true that all men were strictly divided into these two types. Some think with their dicks, others only with their heads. And the ones who could think with their heads and only satisfy her with their dicks had never been found. That would be ideal, and it seems she's not going to find one. They're all either all about cock or all about brains. I mean, it's like he looked at her breasts, he was attracted to something. But he didn't. That's exactly what it seemed like.

– When you made the helium-3 discovery, what were you thinking? – Morgan turned to her again and stared into her eyes. Her beautiful, bright green eyes. And so appealing that she immediately stopped thinking of him as a nerd.

– I was just interested… I studied it because I was interested. Not to do any good for anyone.

Or to get a better place to live. No… But because I was interested… And I can definitely say that's why I did it… Interest is the spark that drives us to something more....

– What about our fusion reactor project?

– That's up to you. – Natalie said the words slowly, first averting her gaze and then returning it to Morgan's eyes at the end of the sentence. She wanted him to be interested in something. If not her figure, her beauty, or her intelligence, then at least some mystery, even if there wasn't one.

And it seemed to work, because he smiled. He smiled just a little, and shook his head affirmatively:

– Then we can definitely make it work. We could go have coffee at my place once we're

done. Is that okay with you?

A small stone flew off her shoulders, though there were literally many other stones still on her back as she did so:

– Well, unless you insist.

– I insist. So here's the deal We've got another half hour on these drawings today. And to

keep our conscience clear, we should finalize them properly…

***

His quarters consisted of four separate rooms, not just two like hers, but four at once-not just luxurious by our standards, but unprecedented. Natalie hadn't even known it was possible to live like this, or that there were private rooms of this size on the station.

– How's the coffee? – Morgan asked. Before he poured her a mug, he asked about what kind she liked to drink it in, what she liked to put more of, and, most interestingly, how she understood the process in general. It was strange and surprising at the same time – she had never really thought about the fact that people could do the same things while inwardly understanding completely different things. It wasn't until he asked specifically about her way of seeing that she realized that it was something that came out completely different for everyone. She was the one who drank coffee to relax, smelling the delicious aroma and nothing more. And someone else drank it to perk up, to take a break, to think about something. And probably a lot of other things she couldn't even think of. And these thoughts about coffee made her think that all things people could do in the same way, from the simplest to the most exclusive.

For example, to do something that brings you income as a useful member of society – this people could consider from the position of personal satisfaction, and from the position of recognition by others, and just not to sit idle, dying of boredom, and to communicate with someone, including not on everyday issues. It turned out that not everyone and not everything people do as it seems at first glance, simply because we have long been accustomed to perceive it that way. And that opens up the next level of this cognition.

After all, since everyone perceives even basic things differently, therein lies the difference in results and approach. In this context, this conclusion becomes obvious, although initially it did not even come to mind. And all because we are used to perceiving people everywhere as we have

already decided to consider them. If we see, for example, someone diligent at work, we automatically think that he is a diligent person, forgetting that this is only the attitude that we see exclusively in relation to his work. And in this case the reason can only be that he finds comfort for himself in his work. And what is more, if he seeks this comfort from his personal life, then it is fair to assume that in this case in his personal life he will be the exact opposite of the way he behaves at work – he will be lazy and apathetic.

The problem is that we don't see a person from all sides of his life at the same time. And even if we see several different sides of him, we still consider him as the main one in some of them. Whether he is primarily our friend or our colleague. He can be both at the same time, but we will always perceive him only from one side. And if he is a friend, he will be a friend at work, not a colleague.

– Your coffee turns your brain on properly. – Natalie replied, really already thinking that the drink was exceptional. Whether from Morgan's ability to elicit specifics or from the fact that the questions added fuel to the fire of Natalie's already regular musings.

She was now sitting on the black leather sofa, a red mug clutched neatly in both hands. For all Morgan's obvious wealth, the interior was modestly furnished, and it was obvious that most of the things he'd made himself rather than ordering them from someone else. It created not only a certain coziness, but also a sense of self that wasn't present in other places, because it was obvious that someone had done it with a heart, not just for the sake of beauty.

The room was a guest room, with four doors leading to other rooms. There was a large black leather sofa in the middle, a low glass table in front of it, and a large armchair farther away, right in front of a panoramic window that was two meters long and one meter high – the most important indicator of wealth on the station. Such windows began to be put already after awakening, having developed alloys stronger than the cladding itself. And it turned out that the more vulnerable section appeared to be stronger, so it was put on the outside, which at the same time allowed to get a magnificent view of the surrounding area.

And these surroundings from his position turned out to be amazingly gorgeous, because from his side began the now dried up, and formerly existed Atlantic Ocean, going down to the bottom, allowing to observe a wider space. And although everything was covered with the same gray regolith, the sheer volume of the view was literally breathtaking.

– You wanted to talk about how logical everything was. – Morgan began, sitting not quite close but at arm's length from her. – Now, the first thing I'm going to show you is the view from my window. You see this expanse… We all know that this is the Atlantic Ocean, which dried up years ago… Isn't that what they tell us?

– Uh-huh. – Natalie carefully took another sip of coffee, remembering again her thoughts about people's different attitudes toward the same process. Truly today's discovery.

– So it's not the Atlantic Ocean… You've been candid with me today, and I'm just responding in the same way… This is all red-hot talk, of course, but it's not the Atlantic Ocean, and I don't just think that, I've proven it.

– Prove it how?

– I found maps of the seabed in quite a bit of detail. Accuracy up to 10, in some cases up to 50 meters. Then I took pictures of my view from different angles. Nobody's stopping me from doing that. Then I digitized it all into one technical unit, and compared my datum with what was stored as data on the Atlantic seabed, trying to find my location… And there was nothing. Just nothing…

Where we are now is not the Atlantic seabed.

– Maybe it just wasn't preserved the same way? Didn't you do some kind of comparison?

– Exactly. Parameters. I was sure I wouldn't find a 100% probability, that much is clear. But the results I got were less than one percent similar. 0.00002 percent. A 0.00002 percent location match means that the system just hit some points in the sky.

– And what versions do you have on all this? Are the maps wrong? Or what?

– I would have thought, of course, that they were wrong, outdated or something, but on this scale… It's only been millions of years. But if that were the case, there'd be nothing left of our station… But that's not all. I'm not just talking about the view from the window… When you observe everything so volumetrically every time, you start to compare many things.

– Like what else?

– For example, sunrise and sunset.....

He looked out at the horizon, and she thought at that moment that it looked like a somewhat romantic scene was about to begin. And the view was good for it-after all, the vastness of the view from his apartment was impressive. Something similar could be observed only in the dining room, but there the view was of the starry sky, not of the earthly expanse. And slowly doubts began to creep in that it was not only because of the high cost of production of such glass....

– You've probably noticed how many of the movies we're allowed to watch have the main characters get up at the crack of dawn, right?

– Of course you do. It was the main topic for romantic delights among girls. " Natalie smiled.

It was indeed a frequent topic of discussion and personal fantasies – waking up at dawn with your lover and going to bed with him at dusk. In the movies it was shown with incredible ease, while in the realities of the world dawn and dusk happened once every 14 days. There were 14 days for each daylight period, and the same number for each night. Hollywood portrayed everything as if all the most important events took place necessarily in those days when dawn or dusk occurred, apparently to make a more tangible impression on the audience. Why it was necessary to build the entire cinema in this way, was still quite unclear, but the traits of romance penetrated the girls when watching these films from an early age.

– Well, both sunrise and sunset in reality look very different from what is shown there. And they don't last the same amount of time that they do. There it happens literally in an hour, and what I see lasts for 24 hours. And I could believe that the ancient filmmakers waited two weeks each

time for the right day to shoot everything for the best commercial benefit. But to make a day into an hour, that's just silly.

– Good. – Natalie nodded and took another sip of coffee, remembering the interesting discovery about the multifaceted nature of perception. – What is your conclusion?

– I don't have a conclusion yet. But what I can tell you is that what we're being told is a blatant lie. And all these measures of handing over found materials to the elders first are just a way to keep the truth out.

– That's a very immodest thing to say for your position of authority. – Natalie was beginning to like what he was saying. Sure, it was the kind of talk her buddies like Taylor were talking about, but it was still a lot better than boring on about new kinds of electrification and testing. And after all, they're talking about all this while sitting on the couch in his apartment, not over blueprints in the lab.

– Yeah, I know… And who better than me to remember such things when my best friend designed Tosca. – Morgan got up and headed for the bar. – You want a drink?

– Oh, so much news at once! – Nathalie laughed, also because she was glad that things were taking a more intimate turn. Alcohol was available in very small quantities on the station, and it was given out in very limited quantities on and before holidays. There were rumors that some of the higher administration had unlimited access to booze, but it never got any further than talk.

Especially after an engineer from the mining section had been deprived of his alcohol vouchers for a year for making such a public statement.

As for the construction of Tosca, there were only rumors about this process. Those who returned kept their mouths shut, and if they answered anything, it was only that they had seen nothing but an aluminum box of a cell with one toilet, a sink and a bed. What was known, however, was that the prison itself was separate from the general structure of the station, and was taken there by overcars. Given the way Morgan had just spoken of Tosca, he obviously knew a lot more than the others.

– I take it that's a sign of agreement. – Morgan concluded, opening a door in the bar and squatting down. – Whiskey, gin, cognac?

– To be honest, it doesn't tell me anything… I've tried whiskey a couple of times. It was interesting, of course, but I was thinking so much about Helium-3 at the time… And not only…" Natalie remembered her state of mind at the time. It had been three years ago, when she had been thinking more and more about the fact that she had never found someone. It was all the more difficult because she had begun to realize that she was somewhat detached from the rest of the group. After all, she was one of the few who had awakened on the station as a child of only 8 years of age, and she had to start not by living but by growing up among strangers. She often wondered if maybe her parents were among the others, just not remembering it. Don't remember, just like everyone else… That maybe there were sisters and brothers who didn't know about each other.

Because they all went to sleep and woke up not remembering anything, not even their own names, which they then proceeded to pick out from fashion magazine catalogs and movies and whatever else they could find. And when she was then asked what name she wanted for herself, she said "Natalie." She loved that song, with that name, where someone sang in what she now knew to be Spanish that name, as if gently embracing her. She wanted so much to be hugged then, too, and repeated that word all the time. It seemed so light, airy and charming… But when she grew up, she noticed that they didn't treat her so romantically… And some relief came when she tried to drink. She was tired from work and regolith research during the day, so she took a bottle of whiskey she was entitled to, and drank a little of it. Then she wanted to sleep almost immediately, so she lay down and listened to the song "Natalie" in her mind, dreaming of being held in the arms of a nice man.

– What did you try? – Morgan turned around and asked.

– Whiskey. It's still in my closet… It's probably dried up by now.

– Good thing my staff can't hear that," Morgan grinned, took out a bottle and poured two glasses from the bottle, then took out another and poured the same amount into each glass, then tossed ice cubes into them and took them both and returned to the couch.

– Is this cocktail just like in the movies? – sniffing the liquid, the girl asked.

– Well almost… I think they were doing things differently though. What we make here is obviously more synthetic than real. We're more imitating the flavor than producing it. Just like alcohol itself, actually. With the ancients it was therefore quite harmful, and with us it's safe, while giving the same effects… Well, if you don't overdo it, of course. If you do, I guess our disadvantages are even worse than those of real whiskey.

Everyone knew the story. One of the chiefs of the security section, Reagan Cross, was suffering from what the ancients called alcoholism. Everyone, in general, didn't mind it, because he performed his duties the same as before. He did not miss anything, did everything according to the rules, and what he did in his free time, no one really cared. Maybe that's why his passions crossed the line. The very line when one day he didn't show up at his post in the morning. They sent for him and when they entered his room, they saw that everything was turned upside down and he had cut himself with a broken bottle neck. Those photos were shown to everyone to show them what excessive alcohol consumption can lead to. And they were not even afraid to criticize the fact that only the highest administration had access to alcohol in such quantities – they pretended that he had stolen those bottles secretly. In short, the decisions of the elders, as always, turned out to be correct

– alcohol should be dosed with coupons, and violations lead only to death.

– With memories like that, I wouldn't be thirsty. – Natalie moved the glass away from her, but didn't put it back on the table.

– But I don't think you're going to be able to taste what I just made anytime soon. It's very mild, just a little stupefying. – Morgan himself took a little taste and showed me how to taste it with his tongue. It was very infectious.

Natalie took a small sip, and the initially icy liquid began to warm inside after a couple seconds – he was right. It was a very mild flavor indeed, and just relaxing. She'd always thought whiskey was very tart and more of a man's drink.

– And how often do you stir such things? – the girl asked.

– Not really… When I see that the conversation is difficult to get into.

– So you think we're having a difficult conversation? I thought you were gonna tell me about Tosca? Or am I? Was I wrong?

– You can… After all, there are no witnesses here. And there's something I can tell you that doesn't violate any secrecy in any case… The cells there are really all as they are described: a sink, a toilet and a bed. And they're kept there most of the time. But, firstly, from there they take you out for a walk in a separate room – there are no windows, but there is a glass-covered ceiling, through which you can watch the starry sky, like in our dining room, only smaller. Secondly, it is not quite dreary there, because they turn on the radio in the morning when you get up, in the afternoon and in the evening before you go to sleep. And, finally, thirdly, those who don't go out of there don't really continue to sit there either… This, of course, can already be called a secret, but if you tell anyone, they won't believe you anyway. Although I don't think you'd want to tell anyone.

– Do they execute them? Decide they aren't needed and just execute them? – Natalie was surprised by that. What could you do to get executed? It's all right there, you broke the rules, you blabbed something. Yeah, it's punishable by loss of contact with everyone else. But to be executed… There's only 7,000 of us here, not like billions of people before. How can anyone else be executed in this situation?

– Are you sure you want to know the answer to that? Especially since, if executed, how? – Morgan sipped from his glass and looked out at the horizon, where he could see the hollows, the rises, the cliffs against the marvelous starry sky. It was gray, of course, but it was still very romantic.

– The only thing I'm sure of right now is that I'm going to be upset…" Natalie thought her mood was blowing away. That had once been a good expression. Now it could only be blown away by a fan, which meant it wouldn't happen by accident. Why did she start asking him about Tosca? It was understandable that secrets and all that only added to the intimacy, but who knew that he was aware of these details. And he started telling her. And just a few minutes ago, things were so much better.

– In our position, you can't be too upset. – he turned back to her. – We're the few who woke up as children, not adults. Everyone else was an adult, or grew up with their parents when they were born here… And we must have grown up once, then fallen asleep, then woke up and started growing up again....

– What do you mean? I thought you were… About forty years old " Natalie looked at him in

surprise: his face seemed even more handsome now than before, his brown eyes more intelligent than before, and his appearance more predatory than before. He would be like a hunter looking out for his prey. It was both frightening and enticing at the same time. For a moment, the thought arose that even if he wanted to eat her now, he would have to give himself up to it willingly....

– No, Natalie. I'm thirty-three, and I'm only a year older than you… We even had lessons together when we were still in school… If you remember, I came up to you one day and asked if you had algebra lessons. You didn't have any with you, so you told me to come back another time. But I never did, because I thought it was you who didn't want to talk to me.

She remembered that moment in a flash. She had liked him a lot then, but she didn't even know his name. He had seemed very intelligent and quiet. In some ways even too modest, which, in her opinion, made it impossible for him to get to know her better. And she was already so excited then about his question about algebra, which she didn't have with her. That day she didn't take anything else with her except a physics notebook out of spite for the teachers, although she had algebra that day. After that incident, she carried her algebra notes with her every day, whatever she had. But that boy never showed up again, and a week later another boy met her, and she decided that was it. After all this time, of course, it didn't look the same as it had then. She worried and thought about it, and in the end she still met the one she wanted to meet.

– Wow," Natalie replied and laughed. – I really didn't have it that day. And then I carried all my algebra lessons with me, hoping that you would come again… So what do I do now? I don't have algebra with me again.

Morgan smirked. Apparently, he, too, was amused by the fact that their fates had come together in the end. Perhaps even more interestingly than before.

– I think we can do without her…" He moved closer to her and stopped just a few centimeters from her lips. – If you don't mind, of course…

She didn't mind… He kissed tenderly and, carefully putting her glass on the table, began to embrace her. Hugging and stroking, first around her waist, then her hips and then her waist and finally her breasts. She felt as if her nipples were about to burn through her overalls… And when his hand circled the back of her head and then squeezed her hair a little, her groin clenched as well.

Apparently he knew well how to drive a woman to frenzy....