The Before Short Story Series. Part 1

‘Oh, come on, Bosch. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I don't want to be a burden.’

‘I wouldn't offer it if you were a burden.’ Bosch was looking at Elena with the same blank or perhaps a little bit stiff expression on his face.

‘I'd really appreciate it, Bosch.’

‘OK.’

Elena came up to the automated security and customs control desks, where she had to answer a number of standard questions:

‘What is the purpose of your visit to the United States of America?’

‘Tourism.’

‘Please give some details on the specific purpose of your visit.’

‘I am planning to visit a number of historical sites related to Edgar Poe’s life in Baltimore—this is my main goal. And, of course, my program includes a trip to Washington. I hope to see all the iconic sights in the capital, from the White House to the National Gallery of Arts.’

‘How long are you planning to stay in the U.S.?’

‘One week. I have a return ticket for Friday, end next week.’

The frame around the perimeter of the rack lit up green,

‘Welcome to the U.S. You may pass on.’

Elena noticed a tall black man in a silver jacket in the airport lounge.

‘I started worrying that you'd changed your mind, Bosch. You have such a remarkable appearance, it helps.’ Elena looked at the braids. ‘You are very tall. One can easily find you in such a crowd.’

‘Can we make it less formal. Eh?’

‘Good. I'm for it,’ Elena smiled. ‘Could we have lunch together? I'm a little hungry. And you?’

‘OK.’

‘Are you in no hurry now?’

‘There is time for lunch. Don’t you worry, Elena. If I was in a hurry, I wouldn't be here anymore.’

‘Great.’

‘So anyway, Bosch, may I ask you what you were doing in Spain?’

‘I have a factory near Madrid. Met with new leather suppliers. I had to check on the samples and see my managers.’

‘What's the leather for, Bosch?’

‘My company specializes in leather jackets.’

‘Wow, that's great! I see, your jacket is very cool!’

‘Well, at least, it’s different. It's important to me. To make my things different. And what do you do for a living?’

‘I am an accountant in a small manufacturing company. The factory does plastic windows, doors and the like.’

‘Sounds boring.’

‘I love my job, Bosch.’

‘It's important. I agree.’

‘How's your burger?’

‘Delicious, Elena. Thanks for asking.’

Sitting in a restaurant on the first floor of the airport, Elena and Bosch slowly continued with their lunch, moving on to desserts and coffee, paying no attention to a series of service announcements lost in the infinitely large international terminal of Dulles Airport. Everyone around was hurrying on business. Parents with restless children were obviously aiming at a resort vacation, judging by the bright shorts and the same cheerful shirts the whole family was wearing, which did not quite fit the beginning of the autumn season in any way. Formal business suits, whether of businessmen, lawyers, or maybe politicians, were supposed to emphasize their important social status and gave an unambiguous answer to everyone around—we are busy people, we should not be distracted by any trifles. A couple of young girls, carefree and not hiding fatigue, sailed towards the exit from the airport, seemingly after a long flight.

‘Are you ready, Bosch? Let's go to the hotel?’ Elena blushed.

Bosch looked at her:

‘Well, let's go.’

Bosch's personal capsule took passengers to downtown Baltimore via an underground highway in ten minutes. After walking around the city, the couple finally arrived at a hotel on the Patapsco River.

‘Will you come up?’ Elena asked without apparent embarrassment.

‘OK.’

The Bell

‘Hi! You are looking great, honey! Well? Tell me! I can’t wait to hear your story,’ entering the factory office, Susan began to question her friend straight from the doorstep.

‘I don't even know where to start, Sue’, smiling broadly, Elena handed her friend a small box wrapped in a stars-and-stripes paper.

‘What is it, dear?

‘A gift for you. A small souvenir from America.’

‘Wow! We love some surprises,’ Susan shook the box. ‘What is it there? Tell me!?’

‘Open it and have a look.’

‘Well, okay, then’, the friend started tearing up the package.

Having dealt with the box finally, Susan almost screamed.

‘Ah-ah!, isn’t it charming! Oh my God! What a beauty!’

‘Quiet, please! We’re going to be fired straight away!’ hushed her Elena.

‘Not both of us together! Someone has to do the job! Ah? That's it!’ reasonably objected Susan, carefully examining a small bell.

‘It's from the Washington Cathedral.’

‘Elly, thank you so much! It’s so beautiful! My collection will soon deserve a personal exhibition—“Bells from Cathedrals of the World”! Would you come?’

‘Well, of course. For sure. Just get me, Sue, dear.’

‘I got it that everything was fine with the cultural program’, Susan carefully put the bell down on the table. ‘Is there anything else you could tell me?’

‘I’d say so, you also need to use the services of this travel agency. Su-san, this is something unimaginable. I had never ever had such impressions from trips…’

‘Elena, Susan, good afternoon,’ greeting the ladies, a tall dark-skinned man dressed in a business suit and tie entered the office. ‘What’s the status of the report? Elena, I see you've had a good holiday. I am very happy for you. Now, as they say, recharged and back to work. The report for September will be ready, as I expect it, today.’

‘Good afternoon, Gustavo. Thanks. Yes, I am very happy with my holiday.’

‘I'm glad, Elena. Very good. What about the report? I’d like to have some more information, please.’

‘We plan to finish the work this week, Gustavo.’

‘I need a final version, not a draft, by Friday. Early next week, we report on the results to the council, so, ladies, I ask you not to let me down. Agreed?’

‘Of course, we will do everything by Thursday.’

‘Good. If there are any problems, I’ll be in touch. It is an important matter. So if…’

‘Got it, Gustavo. Thanks.’

‘Well, that's done! Back to work then!’

V-Tours

‘Good afternoon. Please come in. How can I help you?’

‘Hello. A friend recommended your agency to me,’ Susan handed the manager a business card that Elena gave her.

‘Ah! Of course! Are you Susan? Elena Vega told about you.’

‘Yes, that's right. I just wanted to understand first of all how your company works. Which destinations you may offer then. But for some reason I couldn’t find any information on the internet.’

‘Susan, please come in. Make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you water, tea or coffee? Maybe you prefer fresh juice?’

‘Thanks. Water, no gas, please.’

‘Of course. Just a minute.’

‘You are right, Susan, given the unique profile of V-Tours, the experience that we offer to our clients, we really do not advertise our services widely. V-Tours relies on the feedback of those customers who have already experienced our service and are ready to share it with their friends and acquaintances. This is the way we develop our business, put up the number of our customers. In simple words, recommendations of our customers drive our development. So, as you can see, the reputation of our company is much more than just the budget spent on an advertising campaign. We are glad that your friend recommended V-Tours opportunities to you.’

‘I got it. Good. But which way, in such a case, can one still understand in detail what exactly the specifics of your agency's work are? Why it is unique, as you are saying? Elena said that you will tell and show me everything.’

‘Of course. After all, that's why you came to us.’

The manager handed Susan something like a motorcycle helmet—except that there was no recess, no cutout for the eyes. The front part of the white cast helmet ended, apparently, somewhere at the level of the nose. At the same time, it was very light. The interior upholstery stood out with a bright blue fabric.

‘What is it?’ Susan asked, turning the helmet in every direction

‘A working prototype of a neuro-communicative interface. To some extent, its functionality is similar to a virtual reality headset. Only in our case, virtual reality will seem nothing more than a primitive children's game from the last century. To understand what we are offering, you can put on a headset and we will give you a presentation. Make yourself comfortable in this chair. The entire presentation will take no more than two minutes. It will be more than enough to understand the capabilities and potential of this device. As they say, seeing is believing.’

The silent grandeur of the Grand Canyon in Arizona was there, right in front of Susan. The bright sun was dazzling. Susan took her sunglasses out of her bag. The sky, so deep that one plunged into it in an endless and free fall. She was almost off the ground. Deep chipped channels reliably testified to the violence of the elements that once dominated there millions of years ago. But like everything with a seemingly infinite energy of life, the height originally taken in the battle with time, was given in. The inevitable and irrevocable course of time is truly determined by only one key law: the transformation and connectivity of everything. At the starting point the end of it is set up. Descendants should draw a conclusion from another lesson presented by nature—everything changes, and everything has a limit, regardless of our ambitions.

Susan shuddered—the silence was cut by the call of a faithful predatory guardian assigned to keep order in the canyon gorges. Looking around, disoriented by the flow of her own emotions, the newborn tourist noticed a bird soaring high in the streams of warm air rising from the crevices. Stepping back from the glass fence on the stone ridge, she turned her gaze to the bright brown observation deck. The morning sun, generously flooding everything with its rays, has already heated the rocky surface. Susan was alone on the observation deck. In the distance, a little lower, there was one capsule in the parking lot which apparently brought her there. She turned back towards the canyon, trying to memorize everything in all the detail and absorb every little aspect. Coming closer to the glass barrier, Susan looked down over the fence. The earth began to rapidly approach …

As though waking up, Susan got back to her senses. Around her was nothing. Void. All black. Realizing that the headset was still on, she carefully took it off.

‘Oh dear… What is it… What's it?’ Susan looked around, trying to get over it. ‘I… where am I?’, Susan turned her head in complete confusion.

‘Susan, it's all right. Look at me. You're safe. It's all good. You're right where you were. It's only been a few minutes. We are in the office of V-Tours. Here, take it, please… Drink some water.’

‘This is something amazing. I can't describe my feelings. I was there! In the Grand Canyon in Arizona! I was there physically, feeling with my skin what was happening, breathing in the air…’

‘Yes, it's a fantastic experience. And on the other hand—what do you remember? It's like you've just been to Arizona in the Grand Canyon. Like a tourist who reached his destination on the journey. It was perfectly natural. You were just there.’

Susan burst into laughter:

‘I can't believe it! How did you do it?!’

’It's just… a revolution in travelling… Perhaps not only travelling. In short, Susan, thanks to the recommendation of your friend, you have experienced a new development that will change the world beyond recognition. Soon, it won’t be long till we live in a somewhat different world. We don't even know how. We yet haven't realized the full potential of this technology.’

‘My God! This is some kind of fiction! I was there!’

‘The system of neuro-communicators built into the headset scans the biorhythms of your brain, makes an electromagnetic connection and puts you in a state similar to stasis. This is when your body is in a complete blackout. Your sense of reality, all your receptors are completely blocked, but the brain activity is as high as ever. At this moment, our system works in such a way that you, your brain cannot distinguish the real from the unreal, being in a state of pseudo-stasis. It would take you one day to get to the Grand Canyon from Madrid. Not to mention how much effort and time it would have taken earlier. Now all what is needed from you today is to sit in a chair with a headset on. I cannot but note that this development would not have been possible without the defining role of the PAX artificial intelligence. And all the calculations and assessment of what you have seen is done in the cloud by the power of the system.’

‘Some kind of virtual reality!’

‘I would say, Susan, this is a new reality or, at least, an alternative reality.’

‘It's getting a little scary. I'll tell you what.’

‘This is partially the reason why we are in no hurry to make our capabilities known widely. It is already obvious that this stage of active testing is coming to completion. And it will be pretty soon. Let me get down to business anyway. Where would you like to spend your holidays, Susan? What are your preferences?’

Before: Politics

‘A small entity cannot absorb a large one. Or is it possible? Who knows, who knows. Which of these two can come out the winner? Who has a character, who hardens it, and who just happened to be born bigger,’ Robert stared at the fish in a fish tank in his office, twirling a can of worms in his hands. Aquatic inhabitants, who not for once had witnessed important meetings and negotiations in the home office of the owner, were used to receiving encouragement for exemplary behaviour in the form of a daily portion of live food. But that day something changed. There was no reward. ‘What’s wrong?’ the fish were asking a dumb question, looking closely at the changing shadows behind the barrier of their habitual habitat. ‘Today, friends, you have to figure out who is a wolf and who is a sheep. Who will rule and who will serve. Today we have to dot all the i’s. And it’s time for you, my devoted protégés, to pay your bills. No free ride. Have taken something, be ready to pay. Sooner or later.’ Robert tapped the glass of the tank with the knuckle of his index finger—the fish scattered in different directions. ‘Let’s see who wins this time!’ he closed the can of worms without throwing them any, and put it in the bar fridge built into the base of the tank.

‘See you tomorrow. Or maybe goodbye,’ Robert’s lips twisted in the semblance of a smile. He went to the bathroom, next to the office, to clean himself up before leaving.

‘Damn it! Just now I could have failed miserably!’ returning abruptly to the office, he took a pen from a pencil glass and a block of stickers on the table and wrote in a flamboyant hand: Do not feed! RR ‘No, not like that! Bad!’ Robert looked critically at what he had just written. He sat down at the table and carefully wrote on a yellow sheet—Do not feed! Stressing the instruction, he added: RGR. Leaving the office, he stuck a sticker on the wall of the fish tank and slammed the door behind.

In the bright light of a dressing room, his legs wide apart and hands on his hips, Robert was trying to figure out: ‘What to choose? Which accents will be right today? That’s the million-dollar question…’ He began to examine the racks of clothes methodically, his feet sinking into the light cream carpet covering the floor of the room. On the left side, on white shelves up to the ceiling, there were all kinds of colourful sweaters, turtlenecks and jeans, tweed trousers and cotton clothing. A row of closed shelves separated a large compartment with casual shoes, containing sneakers and running shoes, flip-flops and boots. Robert was critically examining his reflection in the mirrors in the central part of the dressing room. Regular work-out over the past two years had done their job. He was slim and fit, in good shape. But not over-dried and, even more important, not pumped up. ‘Not too much and just enough. I think it’s the right way. But, of course, we will go on exercising.’ His gaze moved on. A compartment with shirts in two long rows: white, light blue and various shades of blue on top, several light grey and pink; from below—in variegated colours with all sorts of prints, from classic paisley to trivial checkered shirts. In another divider, all kinds of accessories were stored—ties, bow ties, various belts, scarves and so on…Then again a large row with shoes, but this time of more reserved shades when occasions demand so. The second to last compartment contained multiple suits and dinner jackets. The sanctuary of the owner’s style was rounded out by a wardrobe with outdoor pieces, jackets and coats, down jackets, sheepskin coats and all kinds of winter clothing items. ‘I don’t think I’m going to need a hat today.’

‘What’s the weather like today, Joe?’ Robert asked his digital assistant.

‘Robert, it’s going to be great weather in Central London today. It’s sunny all day. Now the temperature is 19 degrees. During the day, the maximum temperature will reach 26 degrees.’

‘Good. And what would you advise me to put on, Joe?’

‘Unfortunately, Robert, I’m not ready to help you with that. I can find the contacts of a stylist who will be useful to you with a wardrobe. Should I complete this task for you?’

‘No,’ Robert replied thinking, ‘I don’t need a stupid stylist with a loopy advice, what I need is an image verified to the smallest detail that does the job.’

‘Okay. Let’s be logical. The meeting is rather semi-formal. Although, of course, it is important. A café full of tourists does not imply the expediency of a suit. It’s hot outside. Brown shoes, blue jeans with a brown belt, light brown polo. Pink socks will emphasize a liberal mood. A watch. Which watch to wear?’

‘So, let’s see what we have here…’ Robert came up to the shelf on the right and pulled out one of the drawers. In each cell of a large rectangular wooden pallet there were watches: mechanical, golden, steel, with straps made of leather or steel, sporty, with precious stones, round, square, rectangular, plastic… The electronic watch faces, powered by a wireless charger built into the box, were showing the synchronized time – "07:44".

‘It’s so much stuff in here… What to choose?!’ Robert carefully examined the rows of watches, matching the thought out style for the upcoming meeting with an important accessory.

‘I don’t know… I’ll make a neutral choice. An electronic watch in a gold case. Let it be so.’

‘Joe, what’s the temperature in this room? I’m a little hot.’

‘Robert, the current temperature set in the dressing room is 23 degrees,’ the assistant replied. ‘Shall I make it one degree lower to 22?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘All right, Robert. Thank you.’

Having dressed, Robert critically examined himself in the mirror:

‘There’s something wrong about all this. Stupid shoes. Need them more casual, but also brown. These classics are too pretentious. The belt doesn’t fit either. Need a simpler one.’

‘What do you think, Joe? How, is it? Everything OK or should I fix something?’

‘Robert, please specify what you mean.’

‘I see.’

Robert went down to the living room on the ground floor, where Antonio was relaxing on the sofa. Frames of the morning news show were changing on the screen on the wall. The guest in the studio was trying to be convincing while explaining something to the host in the studio, who, apparently, was not very happy with the direction the conversation was taking.

‘What kind of a weasel is that man, Antonio?’ Robert asked.

‘Who knows. I have no idea. Anyway, it is important for me to understand how the presenter will carry on with him. It is quite possible that we will also need to get into the program. So I’m trying to read it,’ Antonio picked up the communicator and started making notes.

‘Look at me—is everything all right?’

‘What’s the matter, Robert?’ Antonio turned to him. ‘Oh. I see. Antonio got up from the sofa and walked over to his boss, examining him from head to toe. ‘Well, I can tell you, I think everything is fine. Although… Wait… rather, you know, too good. It’s too proper or something. We need a slight imperfection. Maybe let the polo out of the jeans? Eh?’

‘No, it would be too informal.’

‘Well, actually, yes. I agree, Robert. Then here’s what. I know. We need to change the watch. Keep it simple and out of place.’

Robert looked at the chosen watch:

‘Okay. Good. Then, the best choice is up to you.’

‘Of course, in a moment,’ Antonio replied and went into the dressing room. ‘As you know, every detail is important in our business!’ climbing the stairs, he shouted out.

‘So it’s exactly the problem, that I know…’ muttered Robert.

Barel, who was sitting in the kitchen and reading the news, looked at the boss, distracted by their conversation with Antonio:

‘Good morning, boss,’ he said in a loud voice.

‘Oh, hello, Barel. I didn’t notice you. Everything OK?’

‘Well, yes. It’s all good. The weather is great today.’

‘Now, that’s fine, Barel. We’re going for a little walk today.’

‘Yes, boss. Meeting with the Chinese guys at 12:30?’

‘So it is.’

‘What do you prefer, boss—by tube or by capsule?’

‘It will be hot on the tube. We’ll drive somewhere closer to the meeting place. And then I’ll walk. And you have to stay in the car, Barel. I’ll go with Antonio.’

Barel looked at Robert:

‘If I must, then I must, boss. Whatever you say. Anyway, I’ll be there. I think there shouldn’t be any problems.’

‘I’m positive too. But, as our old friend used to say, the best improvisation is prepared improvisation.’

‘He was right, your friend, boss.’

Robert smiled.

Parliament

Barel, having made sure that everyone was in place and ready to go, took a seat on the first row in the capsule—the car smoothly started accelerating. On the control panel, he double-checked the route and microclimate settings for the drive. Everything as Robert prefers: 22 degrees, active filtration and ionization of the intake air, noise reduction and silence in the cabin. Then, his task was to look around and to not interfere.

‘Robert, should I go through the main points of the conversation as we’ve outlined it?’ Antonio asked.

‘Listen, everything is going to be as usual—no matter how many times you repeat, nothing will go according to the plan.’

‘This is, of course, true. But the key issues should be worked out in any case.’

‘I do remember everything perfectly, Antonio. Don’t you worry. Last night I double-checked everything and thought it through again.’

‘All right, boss. Whatever you say.’

‘He calls me boss when he feels hurt or when he’s nervous,’ Robert thought. ‘Everything all right with my fishes? Have they sorted it out among themselves or are they yet pretending to be civilized…’, he plunged into thoughts, looking at the houses in the streets of London on their way.

A new page in his life history opened with London. Robert’s parents decided to try their luck in the States in the middle of the 21st century, emigrating from the UK to Los Angeles. As it sometimes happened to the middle class English aristocracy, the inheritance received by his mother did not provide even for paying utility bills in their estate, not to mention the maintenance of the ancestral nest at the adequate level. His mother was convinced of her innate artistic talents, but she believed that European venues would be too cramped for her…and it was not for her pure-blood baroness status, to measure herself against the so called local élite, as she used to say, asserting herself. A different matter altogether was the Olympus of Hollywood, with its boundless potential of studios that have written their names into the walk of fame of the world film industry. In the end, the house was sold, and they left for the west, full of new expectations. She was deeply and genuinely surprised though with things going wrong there, in the New World as well. To be fair, for the rest of the Richardson family, who remained to languish on the ever foggy island, the news from the other side of the Atlantic was not a surprise. The newcomers had to move to the suburbs of Los Angeles, Emily began working as a sales assistant in a local shop, and her father, never finding himself in the new world, could not stand new challenges and took to drinking. Robert’s uncle, Emily’s brother, who remained at home in England, managed to get back on his feet and achieved a certain position. He was well versed in marketing and being a good psychologist found his vocation as an excellent PR man, combining in his practice an understanding of the laws of perception and clients’ business interests. Later he opened his own agency in London. It was Uncle Oliver who invited his young nephew to London and agreed to pay for his studies at one of the best business schools—Oxford University. There was only one single condition—having graduated, Robert had to join his uncle’s team and develop the company together with him. Later, however, other circumstances of the deal came to light, which Robert did not suspect initially. Finding himself in the middle of the capital for the first time as an adult, Robert fell in love with its imperial greatness, inspired by the history of great conquests, financial ambitions and achievements, political intricacies. To a young man who grew up in the City of Angels, London appeared to be one of the pillars of the modern world.