Journey to the Emerald Era. Science fiction story

“It’s going well, but sometimes there are bugs,” Lyosha admitted. “And now I’ll need to fix a few things. Lags at the most inopportune moment…

Sanjar heard the disappointment in his friend’s voice as the game suddenly slowed down, and then a “lag” appeared on the screen, freezing the characters in place.

– There, you see? That problem again. I’ll have to dig into the code again, – Lesha sighed heavily.

– Yeah, – Sanjar felt his friend’s annoyance. – Okay, don’t worry. You’ll cope, as always.

– I hope so, – Lesha sounded a little upset. – Okay, I need to go figure this out. Then we’ll discuss how to improve the graphics and sound.

– Okay, let’s go. Good luck, – Sanjar said, exiting the game.

The room was filled with silence again, interrupted only by the noise of the fans in the computer. Left alone, Sanjar immersed himself in his thoughts. Zhaniya’s grievances and the tension in his relationship with his sister suddenly seemed more important than the bugs in the game. Deciding it was time to apologize, Sanjar stood up and headed for the door to go to his sister and make peace.

1:8 Reconciliation with the younger sister. Sanjar quietly approached the door of Zhaniya’s room and knocked, trying not to be too loud, but not too quiet. There was no answer. He waited a few seconds, then knocked again, this time a little more insistently. From behind the door came the muffled, slightly capricious voice of his sister:

– What do you want?

Sanjar thought for a moment about how to best reconcile with his sister, then smiled slyly and suggested:

– Let me show you a new trick?

Quick footsteps were heard behind the door, and a few seconds later Zhaniya ran out into the living room, her face glowing with anticipation. She always adored tricks, especially when Sanjar showed them. She sat down on the ottoman, ready for a new magic show, her eyes literally shining with anticipation.

Sanjar, pleased that he had attracted her attention, stood opposite his young spectator. He began to manipulate the cards, deftly shuffling them in his hands so that they seemed alive, then took several other props out of his pocket – small balls, handkerchiefs, coins. Zhaniya did not take her eyes off him, her attention was riveted to every movement of her brother.

With each passing moment, the trick became more and more impressive. The cards magically disappeared and reappeared, the coins unexpectedly turned into multi-colored balls, and the handkerchiefs tied themselves into knots. Zhaniya sat, holding her breath, with a wide smile on her face.

However, their passion for magic was interrupted when Aida’s voice was heard from the kitchen:

– Children, you have to get up early tomorrow! Get ready for bed, tomorrow is work, university and school!

Zhaniya, although she sighed, her face still glowed with a smile. She looked at Sanzhar and said with sincere gratitude:

– Thank you, Sanzhar, it was great.

Sanzhar, feeling that the moment had come to finally settle the relationship, extended his hand to his sister and, smiling, said: “Peace?”

Zhaniya, still smiling, nodded vigorously and shook her brother’s hand firmly. It was their little reconciliation, a gesture that meant more to both of them than any words.

– I have a favor to ask of you, – Sanjar began, slightly nervous. – Can I hang your painting of the flying city in my room? I really liked it.

Zhaniya narrowed her eyes, her gaze became sly, but there was not a drop of offense in it:

– Okay, take my painting… but only if you play chess with me.

Sanjar raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing that chess was not his favorite game, but quickly agreed:

– Okay, for such a beautiful painting I am ready to play a game with you. Let’s do it tomorrow.

Zhaniya happily jumped up from the ottoman and ran to her room. A moment later she returned, holding the painting in her hands. She handed it to her brother with special trepidation, as if she were handing over something precious, and then, saying “Good night,” she ran back again. Sanzhar turned the painting over in his hands, admiring its details once more, and, with a slight smile on his face, went to his room. He felt that he had taken the right step by making peace with his sister, and with each step toward his room, this thought brought him inner peace and satisfaction.

1:9 Falling asleep. Sanzhar carefully closed the door to his room, leaving the evening bustle of the house behind it. Silence reigned inside, broken only by the muffled sounds of the night garden outside the window. The room was immersed in semi-darkness, which was barely dispelled by the light from the street lamps breaking through the curtains. Sanzhar put Zhaniya’s painting on the table and looked at it thoughtfully. The flying city depicted by his sister seemed simple and surprisingly complex at the same time, reflecting Sanzhar’s own inner world at that moment – full of contradictions and hidden meanings.

He slowly approached the bed and sat down on the edge, feeling how the softness of the mattress pleasantly gave in under his weight. Thoughts about the past day swirled in his head: his mother’s success, an awkward moment with Zhaniya, the technical difficulties of the project with Lesha. All this intertwined, forming a complex picture, like threads in thick fabric.

Sanzhar remembered his father’s words that the future depends on the efforts and diligence of each. These words, although simple, had a deep meaning that was only now beginning to reach him. He had always wanted to create something meaningful, to leave his mark on the world, to prove to himself and others that he was capable of more. The project with Lesha had ceased to be just a game – it had become the embodiment of his desire for self-realization. His gaze returned to the painting. “A flying city…” Sanzhar thought. There was something attractive in this image, something that made him think about the future. Perhaps Zhaniya’s childhood fantasy contained a metaphor for their shared dreams – a desire for more, for a world where they could realize themselves completely.

He carefully picked up the painting, feeling its fragility and at the same time its value. It was not just an image, but a symbol of their family connection, their hopes and desires. Sanzhar stood up and, finding a suitable place on the wall opposite the bed, carefully attached the painting. Now it had become part of his world, his personal space, reflecting those thoughts and feelings that he himself could not yet express in words. Sanzhar lay down on the bed, feeling how fatigue was gradually beginning to take over his body. He continued to look at the painting, allowing his thoughts to smoothly flow from one to another. Images flashed before his eyes: Lyosha, concentrating on the code; Zhaniya, smiling after reconciliation; Aida, proudly holding a Forbes magazine; and his father, always ready to support and give advice. His eyes slowly closed, but before he finally fell asleep, a thought flashed through his mind: “What if dreams about the future can actually become reality? What if flying cities are not just a fantasy, but a possible future that we can build?” With these thoughts, Sanzhar slowly fell asleep. He felt that something unusual was waiting for him ahead, something that would open up new horizons for him and lead to the most unexpected discoveries. Zhaniya’s painting was the last thing he saw before his consciousness finally fell silent, leaving him in the sweet embrace of sleep, where amazing adventures awaited him.

Chapter 2. Moving to the Emerald Era

2:1 The Man in the Hat. Sanzhar stretched as the old but reliable Subaru Forester smoothly stopped at the curb not far from KIMEP. The morning had barely begun to bloom, and the first rays of the sun were still timidly breaking through the light fog rising above the city. The cool morning air, slightly giving off freshness and dampness, filled the lungs with invigorating energy. The father, Erlan, turned to his son, his face lit up with a smile that reflected both pride in his son and hope for a new successful day.

– Have a nice day, son. Don’t forget about your goals, – said Erlan, gently patting his son on the shoulder.

– Thank you, dad, – Sanzhar replied, smiling back and carefully closing the car door.

Having closed the door, he lingered for a moment, watching his father slowly drive away, dissolving into the stream of cars that had already filled the city streets. Left alone on the deserted street, Sanzhar took a deep breath of the morning air, feeling how it filled him with energy and freshness. The day promised to be eventful, and he felt ready for any challenges that this day might bring.

He began his walk along the street leading to the university. The city was still dozing, silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional sounds of the first cars and the voices of early passers-by. Walking past familiar buildings and shop windows, Sanzhar could not help but smile slightly. These morning walks to the university had become a kind of ritual for him, helping him tune in to the school day, immerse himself in his thoughts and prepare for new knowledge.

Approaching the entrance to KIMEP, Sanzhar noticed several familiar faces. Classmates and friends were already starting their day, exchanging greetings and short jokes, filling the space with the familiar and cozy noise of university life. He felt himself a part of this world, where every day brought something new, where every moment was full of discoveries. Suddenly his gaze caught the figure of a man sitting on a bench near the entrance. The man was dressed in an elegant suit, his face hidden under the shadow of a wide hat. In his hands he held a newspaper, unfolded so that Sanzhar could see only the top of the hat and a hand with a shiny emerald ring. The ring seemed to attract attention, shimmering in the sun.

Sanjar was about to pass by, but when he was close enough, the man suddenly spoke, his voice deep and confident:

– Young man, you have a talent for journalism and writing.

Sanjar froze in place, turning towards the voice. He saw that the man had lowered the newspaper, revealing his face. He was a man of about sixty, with piercing eyes and delicate features. He extended his hand, as if inviting him to meet.

– Nice to meet you, Sanjar, – the man said with a slight smile. – My name is Richard. Today is my first time at your university, I was invited to give a lecture on international trade.

Sanjar, still surprised by the unexpected address, extended his hand in response:

– Very pleased to meet you. How can I help you? Do you not know how to get to the lecture hall?

Richard shook his head slightly, his smile widening.

– No, thank you, I already know where to go, – he answered with a slight hint of mystery in his voice. – But you, Sanjar, may need my help.

Sanjar raised his eyebrows in surprise, not understanding what was being said.

“Help?” he asked again, trying to understand where this strange man was going with this. “I’m just a second-year student, I have nothing to do with international trade,” he laughed, trying to defuse the situation.

Richard leaned forward slightly, his voice became quieter, as if he was about to share a secret:

“You’re wrong, my dear. What I can offer will help not only you, but all of humanity,” Richard replied, his voice sounding as if he knew something that was inaccessible to others.

Sanjar felt a slight excitement mixed with bewilderment. His heart began to beat faster.

“So what is it?” he asked, trying not to show his excitement.

Richard stood up and, leaning towards Sanjar, said quietly, looking around:

“I will help you travel into the future, a hundred years ahead – to the year 3024. Your journey will only take a couple of minutes, here in 2024 no one will notice your absence.

These words sounded like a bolt from the blue. Sanzhar felt a chill run down his spine. He jumped back a step, his thoughts spinning, trying to comprehend what he heard.

– Sorry, but I have to go. This was interesting, but I’m late for class, – he said quickly, feeling his anxiety growing.

– Of course, Sanzhar. See you later. See you later! – Richard answered with a smile, unfolding his newspaper again.

Sanzhar muttered words of farewell and quickly walked towards the university. His heart was still beating faster than usual, and his thoughts were chaotically rushing about, searching for a logical explanation for what had happened. He looked back to make sure the man was not following him, but Richard was already immersed in reading the newspaper, as if nothing had happened. Having reached the auditorium, Sanzhar stopped in front of the door, trying to calm his breathing and collect his thoughts. Before him was a normal school day, but something inside told him that this day would be the beginning of something unusual, something that could change his life forever.

2:2 Strange movement. Sanzhar, still slightly shaken by the strange meeting with Richard, quickly crossed the courtyard of KIMEP and headed towards the building where the cinematography class was about to begin. As soon as he entered through the glass doors, he felt the coolness of the air conditioner, which contrasted sharply with the warm morning air outside. He paused for a moment, trying to calm down and switch to the upcoming classes, but thoughts about the meeting with Richard did not leave him.

He headed for the stairs leading to the second floor, where the cinematography hall was located. The stairs were wide, with marble steps, dimly lit by the morning light coming through the large windows. Sanzhar climbed them, thinking about the upcoming film viewing, trying to distract himself from the strange events that had happened in the morning.

The cinematography hall was one of his favorite places at the university. It had an atmosphere of immersion in art, where each film became the subject of detailed analysis and discussion. Sanzhar always looked forward to these classes, as they allowed him to delve deeper into the world of cinema, to understand the intricacies of the plot, the director’s tricks and the camera work.

But when he entered the corridor leading to the hall, his gaze was immediately drawn to the figure standing at the far end. It was the same Richard he had just met at the entrance to the university. Sanzhar stopped, feeling a slight shudder run through his body. “How could he have ended up here so quickly?” he thought, slowly approaching the figure. It seemed that Richard was standing there specifically to meet him again, as if he wanted to prove that his strange offer was not just words, but a real possibility.

“Ah, here you are again,” Richard said with a soft smile as Sanzhar came closer. There was a slight satisfaction in his voice, as if he was glad to see the surprise on the young man’s face. “I hope I didn’t scare you too much?” Sanzhar felt his heart start beating faster again. He tried to find the words, but there was only one thing in his head – how did this man get here so quickly?

– No, of course not, – answered Sanjar, trying not to show his excitement. – It’s just that the offer was… unexpected, that’s all.

Richard nodded, as if understanding all the doubts that tormented Sanjar.

“It’s natural,” he said, looking straight into the young man’s eyes. “It’s not every day that you’re offered time travel. But believe me, this offer makes much more sense than it might seem at first glance.”

Sanjar looked at Richard, feeling his inner tension growing. It was as if it were real, but at the same time everything seemed unreal, as if he found himself in the center of some fantastic story that he himself was not yet ready to believe.

“You know,” Richard continued, taking a step closer, “the world changes every year, and sometimes, to understand where it’s heading, you need to look at it from the future. You’re interested not only in what’s happening now, but also in what will happen next, aren’t you?”

Sanjar nodded silently, not knowing what to say. He was sure that before him stood a man who knew much more than he could imagine. But this man was offering him something that went beyond ordinary understanding, something that could change his life.

“I invite you to see the future with your own eyes,” Richard continued, his voice becoming almost hypnotic, as if he really had the ability to see beyond the veil of time. “Imagine how your knowledge and understanding of what is to come can influence your today, your decisions, your dreams.”

Sanzhar, feeling his head filling with more and more questions, slowly shook his head. He understood that the offer sounded tempting, but also incredible.

“Sorry, Richard,” he said finally, trying to sound as confident as possible. “I can’t accept such an offer. I’m a student, I have my own responsibilities, my studies. It’s too… incredible.”

Richard frowned slightly, but then his face took on a friendly expression again.

“I understand,” he said, nodding respectfully. “It’s not easy to make such a choice. But know that the offer still stands. If you change your mind, I’ll be happy to help you see what others can only dream of.

He extended his hand to Sanjar again, and Sanjar shook it automatically, feeling for a moment the cold hardness of the ring, which again reminded him of the mystery of this man.

“I hope that we will see each other again,” Richard said before turning and heading down the corridor towards the lecture hall.

Sanjar remained standing, feeling how his heart slowly began to beat in a normal rhythm. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was time to go to class. But something about this meeting continued to bother him, like a slight breath of wind that could not be caught or explained.

Running into the classroom with the last students, Sanjar tried to concentrate on the lesson, but thoughts about the strange meeting did not leave him. His comrades were cheerfully discussing something and joking, the teacher, looking at his watch, stood up from the table and began the lesson:

“Hello everyone. So, I ask for silence and attention. Today our lesson will be devoted to… But Sanzhar was still thinking about that hallway where the strange man in the hat had offered him a glimpse into the future, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this day would be the beginning of something greater than he could have imagined.

2:3 Coursework. Sanzhar hurried to his seat in the classroom, noticing that the students had already taken their seats and were quietly discussing the upcoming lesson. The huge screen, occupying the entire front wall, was already ready to show a film, and the soft, subdued lights in the hall created an atmosphere of anticipation. He quickly sat down next to his friend, who nodded briefly in greeting.

The teacher, Professor Miras, known for his passion for cinema and his meticulous approach to film analysis, stood behind the lectern. He was short, but had an impressive charisma, and his presence immediately attracted the attention of the entire audience.

“Good morning, students,” he began, looking around at the audience. “Today we will not just watch a film, but also an in-depth analysis of one of the most significant works in the science fiction genre. I chose this film for a reason. It raises questions that concern not only technology, but also philosophy, morality, and what it means to be human. The professor paused, giving the students time to absorb the importance of the upcoming lesson.

– Today we will be watching the film Blade Runner by Ridley Scott. This film is not only a cult classic in the world of cinema, it touches on themes that remain relevant today. I want you to pay attention to how the film explores the boundaries between artificial intelligence and the human soul, its visual style and atmosphere.

Sanzhar felt a little excited. Blade Runner was one of his favorite films, and now he had the opportunity to look at it from a new perspective – as a student who was about to make a critical analysis.

As the lights in the classroom dimmed, Sanzhar settled into his chair, preparing to watch. The opening credits began to appear on the screen, and within moments the entire audience was immersed in the dark and rainy world of futuristic Los Angeles.

The film began and Sanjar became completely immersed in what was happening on the screen. Each scene was carefully thought out, every detail recreated the atmosphere of the future, where technology and man intersect in a complex web of moral and ethical questions. Sanjar noticed how the light and shadows created tension, how the camera followed the characters, capturing their emotions, and how Vangelis’s music emphasized the atmosphere of despair and the search for meaning.

The film became increasingly captivating, making him think about the depth of the questions raised by the director. He mentally returned to the professor’s words when the film raised themes of the nature of human existence, identity and consciousness. These themes seemed to touch on something very personal, making Sanjar think about his own place in this world and about the future, which may not be so distant.

After the film ended, the lights in the auditorium came back on and Professor Miras stood up to conclude the lesson.

“I hope that this viewing has evoked many thoughts and questions in you,” he said, looking around at the assembled students. – I expect each of you to give me a critical analysis of this film in a week. Please pay attention to details that you may not have noticed before and try to look at them from a different angle.

The professor paused and then added:

– Also, I would like to remind you of your first term paper. You must write a science fiction story by the end of the semester. Your task is to create a completely new plot, something our world has never seen before. I ask you to approach this task with complete seriousness.

Sanzhar felt a slight anxiety. Writing a criticism of a film that he knew so well did not seem like a difficult task to him, but coming up with a completely new story… This task was much more difficult. All the ideas seemed to have already been used, and finding something truly new and original seemed almost impossible.

He stood up from his seat, following the other students who were leaving the classroom, and his thoughts began to revolve around the task that the professor had just set for them. Excerpts from the film, questions he wanted to discuss in his work, and images that could form the basis for a new story were spinning around in his head. Sanzhar headed towards the gym, where he had a physical education class. He walked, thinking about how to find that one idea that could amaze both him and his teacher. But while chaos reigned in his head, he hoped that the answer would come by itself at the right moment.

2:4 Team play. Sanzhar walked slowly down the corridor leading to the gym, deep in his thoughts. The idea that the professor had given them in the previous lecture – to write a science fiction story with a completely new plot – was haunting him. He tried to come up with something truly unique, but each time his ideas seemed to have already been realized in some film or book. Images from the Blade Runner he had just watched were spinning in his head, but although they were inspiring, they did not give him the desired novelty.

When he entered the locker room, it was already in full swing. Students were changing into sports uniforms, discussing their plans for the weekend, upcoming competitions and, of course, the latest news from the world of sports. Sanzhar mechanically changed, almost not noticing those around him, and headed to the gym, where the coach was already waiting for them.

The gym was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows through which bright daylight penetrated. The floor of the gym was perfectly leveled and ready for the upcoming game. A volleyball net was stretched in the center of the room, and the boys began to warm up, throwing the ball to each other.

“Today we have volleyball,” the coach announced, gathering the students in a circle. He was a strong man with gray hair, but an energetic and cheerful voice. “But not just volleyball. We will work on teamwork, communication and tactics. It is important not only how you play individually, but also how you work together.”