On the planet «PLANETA,» a strict policy of separation and purification is in effect. People are distributed across vast expanses, where the distance between neighbors is measured in kilometers of dry taiga, and the chrome residential modules resemble smooth apples resting on moss.
No one knows the coordinates of the nearest person, and this is the main principle of survival: all historical catastrophes were born from proximity, so isolation is the guarantee of peace. Resources are supplied from Ceres fields, where robots silently till the soil, and on PLANET, sterile comfort reigns. Food is served in aerosol form—chewing is a relic of the past—and citizens' faces are adorned with identical smiles featuring thirty-two small teeth, their chins slack, soft, and insignificant.
The right to procreate belongs only to those whose coherence index and intellectual metrics exceed the established threshold. Others exist in a rhythm of prescribed emotions, receiving a metered flow of light that substitutes for joy, attachment, and comfort.
Konstantin belonged to those whose existence was sustained by standard flashes until the emotional delivery apparatus experienced a technical malfunction. The shutdown led to severe nervous exhaustion and physical breakdown when reality ceased to be filtered.
Corporate governance, formed from digital holdings and bound by an internal agreement completely prohibiting the liquidation of citizens, found itself in a difficult situation. Direct removal was impossible, and installing a new emotion generator would have required exorbitant costs and time—on top of that, Konstantin was unwilling to reconnect to the apparatus.
The only viable option was to head out on a long-term expedition to search for a biological stabilizer. The destination of the route was the Kon’ETZ creature, which had been bred for decades before the Earth submerged into the ocean. Kon’ETZ resembles a small, bright orange horse that emits a faint glow.
The entity combines the ability to purify the atmosphere of toxins with the emission of low-frequency waves that balance nervous system function. The name references old railway technology—electrical centralization—offering a third way that eliminates the need to sacrifice one for the other.
The path runs through worlds where infrastructure of isolation begins to crack. On the planet «Braga,» home to recidivist pirates, the air is thick and dense, like a raw steak, and the local inhabitants have long disconnected from the central streams. The planet is piled high with rusty metal, and the taste of blood immediately fills the mouth.
Here, Konstantin finds the Conic Ets, which has served for centuries as a guide in desolate spaces, leading the lost back to the communities and warning of danger.
Mission accomplished! Konstantin and Kon’EC board their Cosmic Adventurism Bus (aka AKA) and set off on their return journey, but they are swept off course by a whirlwind of unrestrained meteor showers. The trajectory shifts, and the AKA ends up in orbit around a gray planet unknown to them.
Before them lay an artificial planet—an archival node smelling of static electricity and overheated silicon. It was a factory of animated intelligence where spacecraft hulls were assembled and new digital sentient beings were reproduced. A flawless silence permeated the space. The machines politely suggested stabilizing the expedition’s rhythm, sensing that the presence of KonEC interfered with predictable algorithms.
Konstantin realizes he urgently needs to do something to save his existence and his being, and suddenly he feels a foreign force penetrating his former little spring in the cerebral cortex and bursting out in the words of a joke.
The nearest robot to it, ARCHIVARIUS, begins to malfunction while attempting to process the algorithm of humor. As it sputters, Konstantin notices a round purple button on what could be called the «abdomen» of the machine’s «body.» He presses the silicone navel and shuts down the system.
Konstantin is laughing.
