Classic science fiction. Stories and tales. Version in English

Classic science fiction. Stories and tales

Version in English

Fedir Tytarchuk

© Fedir Tytarchuk, 2025

ISBN 978-5-0068-2390-7

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Classic science fiction. Stories and tales.

Fedir Tytarchuk

Instead of a foreword and explanation

Good day to you, dear reader of this stock. The author of the following stories would like to express their gratitude to you for, in our age of endless scrolling and short memes, daring even to pick up a book, let alone manage to read it, comprehend it, and make what you glean from it part of your inner world. I hope that you are exactly such a reader.

So, what is this book about?!

In your hands, you hold a collection of works primarily in the genre of science fiction. Why primarily? The thing is, over time, the boundaries of what constitutes a fantastic work have become so blurred that it seems fantasy has knocked on our door and become a part of our everyday life. It’s not like the 1960s-70s, the golden age of what was called science fiction, or simply “hard” sci-fi. Back then, everything seemed simpler, at least to the author. But now, as the author is sure, it’s far more interesting.

But let’s not wander into historical thickets and return to this collection. So…

This anthology includes works by Fedor Tytarchuk / Fedir Tytarchuk that have not been previously published or translated.

The collection contains individual stories from several of the author’s series, such as Roblings or His Highness’s Creative Bureau, as well as standalone works that are not connected to each other. The works are rich in humor, irony, and sometimes even sarcasm, and therefore, at first reading, may seem more entertaining than thought-provoking. But believe me, as with any multilayered work, behind the veil of lightness and irony, you can always discern what truly interests and concerns the author.

The theme of this collection, as mentioned earlier, is science fiction. However, the author does not limit themselves to this genre alone. Their “arsenal” also includes a children’s series about a girl named Alenka and the Little Steam Engines living in an enchanted forest… or much “sharper” works, closer to art-house or urban fiction (for example, I Offer You Contempt), which we hope will also be translated from Russian and Ukrainian into other languages. And believe me, this is not the full extent of the author’s repertoire…

For now, you hold the author’s works in the genre of science fiction, and if you enjoy the stories, you are welcome to write to the author, share your impressions, and even support the author in translating their works into other languages. Unfortunately, the rules of this publishing house do not allow an email address to be placed at the beginning of the book (only at the end), so you can find the contact information by scrolling to the final pages.

And yes, the illustrations… The publisher requests that the authorship of the graphic material used in the book be indicated (such are the rules), so I comply – all images used in this book belong to the author and were either created by him or, at his request/assignment, by his wife and daughter. Links to their accounts will also be provided at the end of the book.

And now, dear reader – onward! Read and enjoy!!!

Table of Contents

Instead of a foreword and explanation

From the Cycle – “His Holiness’s Creative Bureau”

His Holiness’s Creative Bureau

From the Cycle – “Workaday Life. Ordinary People”

Workaday Life. Ordinary “People”.

A banal story. Or just one day in the life of an ordinary grocery worker.

The Cellar of the “World Rulers”

From the Cycle – “Roblings / Tales for Roblings”

A Tale about the Creators

The Last Summer Day

“Fresh” Proton

The ship “Trouble” and Captain “Clueless”

From the Cycle – The Jolly Locomotive Choo-Chukhin and His Friends

Prologue…

Baba Yaga and Her Plan to Turn Chew-Chookhin the Engine into Spoons

Stories Outside the Cycles

The World of the Big Show

“SPIRITUAL WORLD”

The Little Uh-oo-Hoo and the First Halloween

The Mercenary-Pinocchio Bar

Who needs you, Sam?

Instead of an epilogue

From the Cycle – “His Holiness’s Creative Bureau”

His Holiness’s Creative Bureau

– Greetings to the geniuses of creativity and jest! – the lanky Alavur barged into the room. His partner, short, wiry, but very charismatic Zalibvang, merely waved in response, rolling in his wheeled chair while sipping a thick, resin-colored drink.

– Your tan is downright infernal! Only… your halo has turned blue, he remarked. How was the vacation?

– Vacation! – Alavur collapsed into his chair. Only memories remain of it.

– And? – the start of a workday in the creative department was always dull and dreary, so Zalibvang demanded details.

– The beaches of the Underworld – a paradise! – he quoted their joint creation, once specifically made for advertising tourism in the Underworld.

– Was it really as wonderful as in our posters?

– I’d say our posters don’t even capture a hundredth of the pleasures Hell has to offer a tourist.

– Well, don’t confuse tourism with immigration! – Zalibvang laughed. I hope sinners haven’t vanished from Hell yet? – he winked at his colleague.

– There’s plenty of that! – the viscous, resin-like liquid oozed from the dispenser and fell to the bottom of Alavur’s cup. Entertainment for every taste! Legalized prostitution with holy men and old maids, beast safaris, or tongue chops from blabbermouths! All ten sins enacted! Not life, but a sweet, heavenly dream!

– Though our salary only covers a couple of weeks in paradise! – Zalibvang smirked.

– Not the worst situation we could be in, – Alavur retorted. Crisis. The flow of fresh souls grows daily, and on Earth, who knows what’s going on, so we have nothing to complain about…

– That’s true, – Zalibvang agreed. The other day, while you were away, someone from the Complaints Department – you know, the ones handling grievances like “for the attention of the Almighty’s office,” “to the boiling cauldrons,” “malicious nonsense,” and such, – he explained, sipping a second cup of the resin-like substance – almost became a father?

– What’s so surprising about that? – his colleague didn’t understand.

– Wait, don’t interrupt! – Zalibvang waved him off. A complaint comes through their line. A parishioner pleads something like: “A heavenly angel entered my chambers and possessed me! He said our son will become the ruler of the world…” and similar nonsense. In another situation, such cases would be sent straight to the cauldrons in the Underworld, but here, a rookie from the same department noticed the potential danger of a precedent, similar to one that happened before and led to… well, you know what.

– Yeah, we had to really spin the “Son of God’ thing. In my opinion, the result turned out excellent!

– So this young demon saw the probable danger and sent it all “where it should go!”

– No way! – Alavur exclaimed. Really there? – he gestured somewhere upwards.

– Exactly! – Zalibvang confirmed. And as you understand, they don’t like jokes up there.

– Indeed, Yezhov, Müller, Beria, and even Iron Felix weren’t trained for nothing…

– Did they even have a choice?

– That’s another matter, – Alavur tried to steer the conversation back on track. What about this fake father?

– They tracked down the complainant, interrogated her thoroughly, which is why she immediately went to a monastery upon return, believing she had contacted the forces of Hell. But they caught the “father’…

– And?

– It turned out to be a low-ranking clerk from the same Complaints Department. He took advantage of his position, so to speak. While reviewing complaints, he would select such – pious and foolish women from remote villages – and study their way of life… – Zalibvang smiled; he found the story amusing. – That’s how it worked out: by day, a quiet, unnoticed clerk in a third-tier position of a second-rate department, and by night – a seducing maniac.

– Oh, really! – Alavur exclaimed. – No one has lifted the ban on intercourse with mortals yet! – he concluded. – Back in the day, we had our fair share of trouble from incidents like that.

– If he had only gone down the “Seduction of Wards” route, it would have ended there, – Zalibvang winked. – But the Divine Security and Arbitrary Justice Service cannot allow such trifles. So the guy went a completely different route! – the liquid in his cup was gone, and he disdainfully tossed it onto the table. – This smells like “Usurpation of the Throne and the Name of the Almighty.” So they’re taking our maniac to the tower.

– Indeed, the tower is a punishment I wouldn’t wish even on an enemy, – shuddered Alavur. – Being thrown into the world of humans, into this abyss of passions, disorder, and arbitrariness…

– And having to follow all of God’s commandments!

– That’s the ultimate injustice! – Alavur agreed. – And why did we even create them back then?

– It was necessary, – Zalibvang nodded knowingly. – Otherwise, the concept wouldn’t have worked.

– You know better, – the colleague agreed. – What will happen to the guy? Do you think he can wriggle out of this? Or… downwards?

– A demon wriggle out of the angels of the DSSAJ? Don’t make me laugh. Once they get a demon in their claws…

– Sometimes I think it would be better if demons ran the DSSAJ. At least you could negotiate with them.

– Blasphemous thoughts! – Zalibvang flared up as the speaker. – Meanwhile, all our thoughts and deeds may be documented in the Heavenly Chancellery.

– Even if that’s so, I haven’t said anything blasphemous, – corrected Alavur. – For the record, – he shouted upwards, emitting snickering sounds. – There were times when demons ran the service… and they managed…

– You’re really stretching it… – Zalibvang waved him off, though without any real concern.

– Do you know what the she-devils in the Underworld are like?! – Alavur threw his hands behind his head, lost in sweet memories. – Slim legs, firm exposed buttocks, well-groomed hooves. And the eyes! Eyes full of fire!! Nothing like our pale haloed pegasi with cornflower-blue eyes.

– That’s a matter of taste! – Zalibvang disagreed. – Some prefer ostentatious holiness…

– Certainly not you! – Alavur slapped him on the shoulder. – Who of us was married to a demoness?

The story of marriage to the fiery-eyed Zharin was a sore spot for Zalibvang, even though more than two years had passed. Their passion lasted briefly, but left a fresh wound in Zalibvang’s heart. In the end, Zharin left for the curator of their department, whom Zalibvang had introduced her to at one of the evenings.

– Well, anyway, – Alavur tried to fix the situation, realizing his slip. – While I was away, what’s new here?

Zalibvang, losing his desire to joke and share gossip, turned to work:

– According to the data from the Analytical Department, the rating of His Holiness, the Almighty, has fallen below the red line. All religions and ideologies, without exception, are losing influence among their flocks. Incentives like Heaven or Communism, promises of eternal punishment, or lack of resources in their world no longer draw people to God. The world is becoming godless and sliding into sinfulness.

– Oh! What a revelation! – Alavur smirked. – His Holiness’ rating has been falling for centuries. The life cycle of this civilization has already passed the saturation stage and is on a decline.

– And up there, they concluded, – Zalibvang pointed at the ceiling with such significance that Alavur fell silent mid-sentence. – They concluded that half-measures would no longer suffice here.

– How so, not suffice? – Alavur asked in surprise. – Maybe a new religion?

– No way! – Zalibvang cut him off. – Remember how we once developed the first primitive religions?!

– Of course! – Alavur laughed. – All that worship of the rising sun and dances around the totem or the fire. Yes, those were the times. We were really carried away back then… We had just started after the old team… And there was a lot of work.

– Humanity was fragmented then – that’s a fact. Each tribe had its own religion, its own beliefs, its own sacred objects…

– But admit it, we slacked a lot back then. Copies of sun worship and night deity…

– There wasn’t enough time and strength, – Zalibvang agreed. – And now, the researchers on Earth are scratching their heads, wondering how in these fragmented tribes, which never had contact with each other, beliefs and legends turned out so similar?

– They search for progenitors. They invent legends themselves… We could learn from them. – Alavur joked.

– Well, they asked for an intern and an assistant from the newly appeared ones… Didn’t work out.

– And how funny it turned out with the Olympians! – Alavur laughed, lost in memories.

– We really overdid it back then, – Zalibvang did not enjoy this topic very much. – Overdid it, and the project was burning. The emerging cultural society had to be urgently directed into the right channel…

– So we created the cult of wine, female beauty, and…

– And sacrifices! – Zalibvang quipped.

– Well, if a hangover headache was blamed on stale meat, – the partner reminded him. – And whose phrase was it then: “Let it all burn!”?

– Yes, it turned out funny. And interestingly, the Council approved the idea at first glance.

– We had just returned from a party. Thinking along the same lines… – Alavur recalled. – I remember more the battle for atheism. Two years of debate over whether it would undermine faith in His Holiness, mislead people, or allow the Demon Scum to seize power.

– It was quite a battle, – Zalibvang agreed. – The haloed ones defended the sanctity and infallibility of His Holiness foaming at the mouth, while the hoofed demons demanded change and freedom for the earthly flock…

– And we got what we got – a compromise that satisfied no one, but was executed strictly according to instructions and thus produced the most unforeseen results.

– That’s how it goes! – Zalibvang agreed. – Remember the instruction error regarding the number of fingers for the sign of the cross…

– A small typo on Earth sparked a war. So, a new religion is out of the question?

– Nope… – Zalibvang teased. – The Analytical Department claims that Earth’s population has developed a stable immunity to various religious and ideological teachings. Worship of the “golden wallet” doesn’t count, of course, as it does not exalt His Holiness.

– Then the concept – wealth tied to faith in His Holiness…

– Money is the prerogative of the one whose name must not be spoken…

– Then a prophet or a saint for that!

– The last of the prophets ended his days in an asylum…

– And what about a regional war in the name of faith?

– They’ve launched about five of those already. They fight, and the result is the same…

Without noticing, they shifted from casual chatter to discussing work matters.

– Social upheaval…

– Happened. The revival was envisioned completely differently…

– And?

– The outdated system collapsed and gave way to what led to the fall of faith and, consequently, His position. So we no longer dabble in social upheavals. Taboo.

– Then a cultural revolution?

– Happened. The last one – sexual…

– Yeah… – Alavur recalled how the demons gleefully rubbed their hairy paws when hearing the results of this activity. Back then, they say, His Holiness even suspected his own creatives of conspiring with demons and the one… whose name was avoided.

– Crisis of worldview!

– Yes, the whole world is a single crisis now. Some more, some less – no one will notice…

– A new pseudo-religion?

– We don’t know what to do with the old ones. And sometimes we have to fight the emerging ones.

– A natural cataclysm?

– If there is one, it will have catastrophic consequences. Everything here is heading toward…

– You mean the purge?

– The purge itself! – Zalibvang smiled. – And if we don’t find a solution here, it will end with it.

The last purge, which entered many religions as the Great Flood, was a reaction to losing control of the situation. Someone might have argued against such a decision, but once it was made up there, it was not discussed.

– Are you serious? – Alavur could hardly believe his ears.

– As serious as it gets, – Zalibvang confirmed. – Information comes through the most trusted channels.

Alavur knew all these channels perfectly well. Another secretary in one of the departments, spilling secrets under compromising circumstances. Alavur sometimes suspected that, given Zalibvang’s number of lustful escapades, he would be better suited somewhere in the demonic quarters, but born “in the light,” he remained haloed and served in His Holiness’ creative department.

The purge was not a first-time event and each time changed the balance of power both within the hierarchy and between the haloed and demonic forces. The latter constantly tried to seize the attention of His Holiness, if not outright usurp the throne. Many specialists, valuable in a world populated with enough humans, became unnecessary and, at best, remained on minimal salaries awaiting changes, or were simply dismissed in a day. The creative department belonged to such sections – His Holiness’ tool, the brain, and source of ideas that would otherwise be useless. Last time, Alavur and his partner somehow survived, endured boredom, even invented chess and played until unconsciousness, but what would happen this time – they did not know.

To say that Alavur and Zalibvang were in good standing with His Holiness would be an exaggeration. As creative beings, sometimes indulging in forbidden substances, maintaining ties with the hostile camp, occasionally receiving gifts from them, and even having relations with female demons, they did not meet all the criteria of sanctity recorded in the foundational documents of His Holiness’ Chancellery. Yet, as long as they presented unconventional ideas and implemented them, much was forgiven. Occasionally they stumbled, sinned, leaked information, committed adultery, and missed deadlines. They were often criticized. Their behavior was held against them. They were feared for the possibility of yet another trick with recommendations for implementing a program. A couple of prophets, sent by their orders to Earth, later threatened severe retribution and were forbidden by His Holiness to even approach Alavur and Zalibvang.

They were not liked, as unconventional upstarts often aren’t, disrupting the well-ordered life of the Chancellery swamp. Demons compiled detailed dossiers on them, seeking ways to capture, bribe, compromise, slander, or tarnish them – just to ensure a specific policy was carried out. At one point, there was even talk of introducing a balancing number of demons into the group… But His Holiness rejected the idea, favoring the one whose name is not spoken…

It so happened that His Holiness, for reasons known only to him, treated the creatives with patronage, though not entirely unequivocally, likely wanting at least someone on hand who could surprise him with something new, bring variety, and stir up the swamp of the Chancellery.

In the case of a purge, when decisions about the fate of many will be made, most issues concerning hundreds of thousands of employees, large and small, would be handed over to the Personnel Department, and they would take care of them first. Alavur and Zalibvang once had the imprudence to include the personnel in the project of creating a church on Earth. They did their job, deployed thousands of their adepts, and developed a fierce hatred for the creatives. After dismissal, the DSSAJ would immediately handle them. Zalibvang somehow managed to have relations with the daughters of their permanent leader, who would have long ago crushed Zalibvang with his own hands if not… And now the opportunity was here…

Zalibvang shuddered, imagining those impassive blue eyes…

“No way! – he pulled himself together. – The purge must not happen! We need a solution!”

– And when is an answer needed? – Alavur seemed to read his thoughts.

– Today! – he whispered.

– Today?! – his astonishment knew no bounds. – A year or two to gather information, the same to process it… Run tests, develop full projects, validate the theory… Prepare a presentation? When are we supposed to do all that?

– It’s much simpler here, – Zalibvang smirked bitterly. – They just need an idea. Any idea that might save the situation. If there isn’t one by four o’clock today – it’s all over. They say His Holiness is tired of humanity. Of their petty affairs. Of disobedience, of twisting his word, of everything…

– To lash them…

– Floggings no longer work. You know that perfectly well yourself… So…

– So we must produce an idea…

– And save humanity! – Zalibvang pronounced pompously. – Any ideas?

***

– Classics?! Really? – Alavur and Zalibvang whispered to each other, standing against the wall in the meeting hall.

– Of course! – the second one agreed.

From their experience, creative ideas that could ignite their department for hours were usually not understood by the “tongue-tied and irrationally thinking” (quote) beings in chairs made of human skin. Convincing them that the sexual revolution would bear fruit only centuries later, not immediately as they demanded, or explaining the reasons behind failures in reactionary nationalism projects – they simply never succeeded. So, the trusted classics always “ruled” – long-tested, universally understandable templates, which, despite more and more glitches over time, continued to serve as a standard of conscientious and quality ideas in the minds of those responsible.

– You’re looking particularly handsome today! – Jarin pinched Zalibvang’s buttocks. – I’m starting to wonder if I should come back to you?! – she winked, narrowing her fiery eyes. With a sway of her firm buttocks, wrapped in a thin skirt made of the latest material brought from Earth, she walked toward the assembled group of “the powerful of the world.”

Zalibvang swallowed hard. Heat flushed through him. Memories of past nights and days of fervent torment returned. “No matter what, she’s far more attractive than the nimbused ones!” – he noted, realizing he was reacting sexually, which in no way suited his kind, the nimbused. “But what to do?! – he soothed himself. Working with human material, creating programs for them to achieve specific results, willingly or not, one has to immerse in their world, join their society, and filter through oneself all the rules and motives that guide human decisions.” This explanation had saved them more than once when questions of antisocial behavior, drunken escapades, dealings with demonic spawn, and requests for test communication with newly departed souls arose. His Holiness did not exactly shield them – no, he was probably more displeased than anyone – but as long as there were results and His Holiness’ will, they got away with everything.

– Don’t lose your head! – Jarin watched Alavur just as captivated. Rumor had it he had even entered her list of admirers, but that topic was never raised in Zalibvang’s presence, who had endured a year with her.

Walking with a slow, model-like step, her well-groomed hooves keeping time, emphasizing her grace with the swish of her fluffy tail, she approached the group of demons and nimbused beings, discreetly running her hand along one’s back and almost immediately entering into conversation.

– Very well, let it be classics! – muttered Zalibvang, his gaze glued to her, though he was burning to suggest his own idea, knowing it would surely be rejected. He knew that perfectly well, yet something inside demanded a protest, something to be done.