Bird

“Birds of prey do not sing” (German proverb)

His glance slid to the dumpster where a seagull the size of a pig was sitting. What?! Antony turned his eyes back and froze... Two hemispheres were fighting in his head. The right exclaimed that such a thing could not be possible, and the left insisted that he should believe his eyes. For a couple of minutes he stared at the giant gull as it heavily stepped from paw to paw along the edge of the garbage can, which swayed under its weight. Then Antony smoothly pulled out his smartphone and took a picture of the miracle. As he continued to stare, he reasoned that, as a university-educated man, he probably should have been aware of the existence of such superbugs. But he has not been. By using various logical reasoning, he concluded that he was just lucky enough to be the first to come across a hitherto unseen mutant. The appearance of which could be result from a radiation or gene pollution of the environment. For instance, as a result of leaks in the accident at the Japanese nuclear power plant Fukushima. From there, he could have flown here to San Francisco. Why not? Such considerations led Antony to delight and he decided to urgently attract the attention of other people to his discovery, before it flew across the ocean. After all, it could well be in a single copy! He slowly turned his head from side to side, trying not to scare away the object of science - no one at this early hour! What a bad luck! Antony froze like a mannequin and waited. Ten minutes later, he noticed the shaking figure of a man on a morning jog in the depths of the park. It was getting closer. Soon he saw a middle-aged man in a faded T-shirt and shorts. He was running towards here! Antony smiled in anticipation of how now this uncle will stumble out of the blue, seeing such a ‘pterodactyl’. The runner caught up with the trash can and... ran past it. Didn't you notice? Antony wanted to shout to him, but refrained and prepared to wait for someone else. Soon, a college-looking guy in his twenties, wearing jeans and eating a McDonald's hamburger popped up nearby. He crumpled the bag and threw it into the tank, almost hitting the scientific discovery. The miracle fearlessly turned his head away from the flying ball, and the student walked on past it... But this time this guy could not notice!

“Excuse me, what kind of bird is that?” Antony shouted after him, pointing at the feathered wonder.

The guy turned around in surprise: “It’s an albatross!”

 In an hour, Antony had fished out almost everything about albatrosses from the Internet on his smartphone: that it is the largest flying bird in the world with a wingspan of up to three and a half meters and a body length of up to one and a half meters; that, like an ocean bird, it feeds on fish and, like a bird of prey, it does not sing, just screams instead, and that it is extremely rare. А special admiration as an engineer Antony felt from the fact that albatross can catch headwinds and updrafts so masterfully that she can soar over the ocean for days without landing and almost without flapping its wings. In fact, he had heard the name of this bird before, and as a child he even rested in a camp with the same name, but to this day he had not seen it and had no idea how actually huge and beautiful it was. He had never been to a country where albatrosses live even in small numbers before - he was born and studied in Russia, worked in Australia, and visited only Austria. In the United States, it was the first time. Antony called a taxi to the nearest intersection, got up from the bench, and walked down the path to it. When he arrived, the car was waiting for him. Antony jumped in: “To the St. Francis Yacht Club.” The taxi driver looked over his shoulder at the passenger with interest. “A university friend invited me to take a ride to Alaska.” Boasted Antony “On your own yacht?” the taxi almost jumped on his butt of curiosity. “Sort of,” Antony said. “Great! Where may I also could try to find such a friend?” taxi-driver continued. Antony left the question unanswered. The driver's chatter has annoyed him and distracted from pondering why Victor would suddenly has remembered him after twenty years.

The caretaker was already waiting for Antony at the entrance to the club. To the right of the harbor the famous Alcatraz prison island was in clear view, to the left was the equally famous Golden Gate Bridge. It was apparent from the yachts moored that this club was an elite one. The caretaker escorted Antony to pier seven. Victor’s motor yacht with the unusual name ‘The Trackless Hero’ was impressive. Sixty feet long, with a closed wheelhouse, freshly painted in blue and white, it was one of the best yachts in the harbor. Feeling a mixture of envy and pride for his friend, Antony ran up the ramp. A sunburned Victor was pacing the deck and giving instructions to someone in the control room. Antony recognized him straight away. When Victor noticed Antony, he opened his arms and took a step towards him:

“How many summers, how many winters! Looking fresh!”

“Thank you for the invitation! And you look well preserved too!”

They hugged.

As they sealed away, Alcatraz faded in the haze behind them, the orange arches of the huge bridge overhead slowly flew away, and the yacht turned into the open ocean. The sun was shining mildly. Glittering waves calmed mind down. There were only three people on the boat. The third was motorman Daniel. He was busy down in the engine room. Victor was at the control desk, checking the route by the map and navigation instruments. Antony was comfortably situated on the deck. He seemed to have been forgotten by all and liked it. Antony did not understand much about yachts and did not want to delve into them either. His brain, overloaded with the complexities of the latest project for Deutsch Bank, relaxed and refused to strain itself about the nuances of navigation. Antony looked half-asleep at the silvery stream of water over the side and thought about life in general. About what is the crucial condition for success. At the university, Antony surpassed Victor both in academic performance and in sports. But now he was on Victor's yacht, not the other way around. His friend was able to put together a thriving company from scratch, while he, Antony, worked as a programmer for others. Antony was not envious, because he believed that the universe is arranged absolutely fairly and therefore everyone gets what deserves. He believed that many people doubt it only because they do not see the whole picture in the panorama (which is visible only to the gods). He was just trying to find some secret springs of success by comparing himself to his successful classmate. He was driven by both curiosity and self-interest. Antony tried to guess in order become wiser and more successful himself. He went through quality after quality, feature after feature, remembering his own and Victor’s actions, good and not so good. But he could not find a clue.

Victor came out of the control room, looked at Antony and, as if reading his thoughts, said:

“Enough philosophy! Here's the answer: the goal of education is not knowledge, but action! Who said that?”

“Herbert Spencer,” Antony replied, impressed by Victor's insight. It suddenly dawned upon him that, yes, it was Victor's insight that surpassed him. Surpassed by a whole head, or rather by ten! Surpassed not only him, but almost everyone around him. Antony instantly recalled several episodes from his past student life, confirming this guess.

“You see, the philosopher told us all about it a long time ago. The universe rewards only action! You are too afraid to make a mistake, but even a wrong action is useful.”

“In which way?”

“It eliminates uncertainty. If you make a mistake, you will clearly see where you were wrong and will be able to adjust your course. If you don't, you'll be stuck in uncertainty and miss the chance.”

“But if the error is fatal?” Antony asked in perplexity.

“The very education is for you to help to calculate and minimize the risk.” Victor clarified.

Antony pulled out his smartphone, intending to take a selfie against the ocean landscape with intention to send it to his new mistress:

“You’ve convinced me, now I'll make an action.”

But he didn't have time - in the blink of an eye, Victor snatched the smartphone from him and threw it overboard:

“Sorry, I forgot to warn you - no electronic communications during the voyage!”

“What you’ve done, I could just turn it off!” Antony exclaimed in fury.

“You couldn’t! They don’t actually turn off completely.”

“One more such trick and you’ll go flying after him!”

Victor patted Antony on the shoulder in a conciliatory manner:

“Well, don’t get upset! I’ll buy you much better one. You’ll understand soon enough.”

Puzzled, Antony silently turned away and moved to the opposite board. The weather gradually deteriorated. The breeze was rising. Antony noticed a huge albatross hovering in the air. The giant majestically glided over and disappeared over the horizon. Antony watched him to the end. It seemed to him that it was the same bird that he had seen in the park. There was something special about this creature...

The second day of the voyage was getting stormy. Viktor invited Antony onto the deck. They perched on the stern. Some splatters reached them there. Victor uncorked a bottle of expensive brandy and handed it to Antony. After making a few sips directly from bottles throat, Antony felt a warm and pleasant intoxication spreading through his body. That divine inebriation happens only when you take alcohol either for the first time or after a very long abstinence. Antony had not drunk for years. Then Victor took a sip himself and brought his face close to his friend’s:

“I have a little business to offer you.”

“I thought you invited me not just for a kindly ride on your yacht out of friendship? I am readily listening,” Antony replied.

“Yes, of course, out of friendship! But one thing does not interfere with the other. We’ll kill two hares with single shot!”

“That’s your style. You used to get three in one evening. Girls, not hares, but that still counts,” Antony joked.

“Tell me, you still work as a programmer, right?” Victor pretended not to understand the humor.

“Yes. At the moment, I have a contract with the Sydney branch of Deutsche Bank. But I'm going to give up programming.”

“Why so?”

“Age. Employers start discriminating. The average age of programmers at Google, for example, is thirty years. And the proportion of those over forty is less than three percent. And in Facebook, developers are even younger. I’m forty-five. So the time has come for me to change the way I earn my livelihoods. One option is to convert to IT managers.

“Well, I didn’t know that programmers have careers as short as boxers. But you still have postpone you plans for a few years if not forever. I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse. And you will got younger straight away!”

“It is widely said that business kills friendships...”

“A-a-a… there are so many sayings, proverbs, superstitions, omens in this world, that you can find hundreds for and hundreds against anything you decided to do. They are all not about us and not for us. I made some inquiries; your fee is a hundred bucks an hour, isn't it? Impressive. But I’m willing to pay you five times as much.”

“Five hundred an hour?” Antony could not believe his ears, “can we go down to the cabin as the noise of the storm drowns out the words?”

“No, no, I’m not sure there aren’t any eavesdropping devices. I called the specialists, they checked everything, but let’s to reinsure. All business conversations will be conducted only on deck, quietly, with the sound of the breaking waves and the howling of the wind.”

“What kind of work is it?”

“After Snowden’s revelations about the CIA’s wiretapping of all the inhabitants of the planet, among the big people around the world, there was a demand for absolutely non-eavesdropping means of communication. Customers are not only individual businessmen, mafiosi and politicians, but also entire governments of a number of countries. A lot of people don’t like being hooked by the CIA. They are willing to pay billions.” Victor finished and looked straight to Antony’s eyes.

“I agree with what you’ve said. But you just can’t imagine the gigantic volume and complexity of this work! I admire you as an entrepreneur, but your small firm can’t handle that, sorry to be blunt. The tender will be won by some international telecommunications giant.” Antony smiled some with guilt.

“Well, exactly here you’re wrong, my friend! The very giants have no chance here! They won’t even be invited to the table. It is clear to a fool that the global scale of wiretapping could not have been organized without the cooperation of leading manufacturers of equipment with the US special services. Judge yourself - after the fact of wiretapping of German Chancellor Merkel was revealed, against at least one employee of at least one telecommunications company has been opened a criminal case? Not. No one even was kicked out of work! And the corporations and the CIA don’t even consider themselves guilty of anything! The larger the firm, the more likely it is that it has already been recruited by the secret services. Therefore, our customers are searching among not so large, but certainly independent companies, such as mine.” Victor paused for a long moment and then looked at his friend for his honest opinion and stand on the matter.

“Have you received an offer already?” Antony asked seriously.

“Not yet, but at the moment we have been invited to participate in the secret tender. We must submit our project and, preferably, a prototype device.”

“Not only a project, but already a prototype..?”

“I understand your skepticism, but, in terms of prototype, other contenders are not in the better position than we are; plus Dan has a brilliant idea how to do it.”

“Why do you guys need me then?”

“Dan can’t write program himself, at least perfectly. Nobody can be talented in everything. He’s a theorist. We need a super-programmer, with both huge theoretical and practical background, who could write programming code at the state of the art. Plus, I need trust such person as I trust myself. Only you meet all such criteria.”

“Such a confession after twenty years of separation?”

“Well, yes. In fact, I’ve been keeping an eye on you all this time.”

“What is the essence of the project in more details?”

“This matter you better discuss with Dan; as technocrats with technocrats. I am a mere manager.”

Victor called loudly for the motorman. Daniel came out of the control room and sat down at the table. Victor continued:

“He is not only a good motorist, but also a brilliant mathematician; Princeton University; Doctor of Philosophy in Cybernetics. You both have gotten a lot to discuss. I’ll leave you for now.”

Victor handed Daniel a bottle of brandy and went into the control room. Daniel took a symbolic sip and set the bottle aside:

“You probably know better than me that the first problem is that computers and smartphones use microchips with undocumented schemes, so-called undocumented "inserts", designed specifically for stealing information by the special services. And the second problem is that operating systems also have vulnerabilities. Some of their ’holes’ in security were made unintentionally, by oversight, but others, the most dangerous ones - by collusion of manufacturers with special services.”

“Yes, I know. To me, these two facts make any cryptographic protection powerless against the special services. Since the means of intercepting information are originally embedded into the devices themselves, how are we going to build protection against leaks and wiretaps? The creation of existing computers and smartphones took half a century of efforts of several giant international corporations. Victor’s small firm cannot develop and produce fundamentally new devices, and even operating systems for them in a short time.

“We will not produce everything new, we will exploit and outsmart the existing one.”

Before Daniel could finish, Victor suddenly appeared on the deck with a rifle. Antony and Daniel exchanged a puzzled looks. Victor raised his rifle and took aim. A large albatross was gliding across the sky.

“Please don’t!” Daniel pleaded.

“Killing an albatross brings bad luck!” Antony supported.

Not listening to them, Victor fired. He missed and began reloading. The bird turned right to yacht and flew straight at them, lowering its altitude. Victor raised his rifle again, but before he could aim and fire, the bird's beak lit up with a series of flashes and the sound of machine gun fire resounded. The half-finished brandy bottle shattered, several bullets tore through the deck, and Victor fell. The drone flew a few meters above the yacht. The friends rushed to help their friend, but he firmly stopped them:

“Spread out! Den, run to the control room and turn the boat around to neutral waters! Antony, take my rifle, hide in the cockpit and shoot from there! I’ll go down to the bilge without help. I’ve got a spare first aid kit and a second gun in there!

Having thrown his rifle towards Antony, Victor crawled vigorously to the hatch to the bilge, about three meters away. His left foot dragged across the deck, leaving a scarlet streak along his way. Antony and Daniel followed the captain’s commands. The drone was turning around for another attack... Two rifles protruded out from the yacht to him... Live people against the machine. The right to privacy of personal communication against total control.

Похожие статьи:

Рассказы → Властитель Ночи [18+]

Рассказы → Смерти хватит всем (соавтор Павел Журавлёв)

Рассказы → Внутри Симулякры

Рассказы → По ту сторону двери

Рецензии → "Потерянный рай"