# 1. Memories

Kim Chun Ho walked into the dimly lit hall and stopped. Chaos of abandonment surrounded him. Not just this building, but the entire block was set for demolition. The floor was littered with various office debris: an old stapler, pencil stubs, a diploma in a cracked frame, piles of chairs shoved into corners. That's when he noticed a light under the door of one of the offices. A sense of foreboding gripped Chun Ho. He picked up a utility knife from the table and approached the door. For a moment, he hesitated, afraid to discover what was happening in that room, but then he couldn't afford to wait either. With a decisive movement, he turned the door handle and entered.

The small operating room was brightly lit. First, he saw Wu and Barik rummaging through the medical cabinets. At the back of the room, Zoltan stood beside the operating table, laying out surgical instruments on a tray. Before him, with her arms and legs strapped to the table, lay Ay-Shi. Chun Ho's heart skipped a beat, then began pounding wildly.

When Chun Ho met Zoltan's cold, blue eyes, everything became clear. For the first time in three years, Zoltan looked him right in the eyes. His gaze was full of raw, unyielding hatred. All the strange interactions, the veiled hints, and unspoken words now made sense. Chun Ho had thought Zoltan's aloofness was simply a matter of personal dislike or eccentricity, but it was something far deeper. How had he missed it? The sidelong glances, the cold, measured words—Zoltan had been livid with hatred all along, hiding it beneath a veneer of calm. He had resented everything Chun Ho had, especially the growing connection between him and Ay-Shi. Now, with reckless resolve, Zoltan sought revenge on him and the world that had wronged him. This realization hit Chun Ho in an instant.

For a moment, Wu and Barik stood frozen in surprise, but now they were ready to act. Chun Ho knew he should run and call for help. He had no chance in a fight against three. Though athletic, he lacked any martial arts training and had never been in a real fight. But the thought of abandoning Ay-Shi in this room, helpless, was unbearable.

Wu was the first to charge at him. Chun Ho swung a wild kick in his direction. By chance, Wu tripped on a wire, stumbling and falling face-first into Chun Ho's rising boot. The blow landed squarely on his nose, blood splattering as Wu staggered back, clutching his face in shock.

To the left, Barik lunged forward, grabbing Chun Ho's arm and trying to twist it. Chun Ho jerked away, spinning and slashing Barik’s face with the knife. The blade snapped, but not before leaving a deep cut. Barik recoiled with a pained shout, releasing his hold.

Zoltan lunged at him, but Chun Ho shoved him hard in the chest. Zoltan stumbled, grabbing the shelves for balance as Chun Ho darted past him toward Ay-Shi. She wasn’t unconscious—her eyes were open, desperate but alert. With the remaining edge of the knife, Chun Ho attacked the strap binding her wrist. The plastic resisted, but a few sharp slashes were enough to free her hand.

At that moment, someone grabbed him from behind and yanked him backward. As he fought to break free, Zoltan appeared in front of him, delivering a sharp punch to the gut. The air rushed out of Chun Ho, and he dropped the knife. A moment later, he took another jab to the ribs.

Through the pain, Chun Ho saw Ay-Shi’s free hand reaching for a tray of surgical tools. He thrashed with newfound strength, nearly breaking free, but another pair of hands grabbed him from behind. Barik and Wu dragged him to the floor, each pinning one arm, while Zoltan rained kicks on him. Fueled by adrenaline, Chun Ho fought back, his movements making it difficult for Zoltan's buddies to hold him.

Desperately kicking out, Chun Ho tried to fend off Zoltan, using the cramped space to his advantage. Suddenly, something silvery stroke Zoltan’s head, and he staggered. Ay-Shi stood behind him, holding a metal tray. She swung again, this time striking his temple. The blow sent Zoltan sagging to the floor.

Chun Ho still couldn't move his hands. Above, Ay-Shi stepped forward, swinging the metal tray at Barik with a sharp clang. He instinctively raised his arms to shield himself. Seizing the moment, Chun Ho twisted hard, yanking his left hand free.

Without hesitation, Chun Ho slammed his fist into Wu’s nose. Wu yelped, blood spurting as he released Chun Ho’s other arm. Chun Ho rolled to his feet as Ay-Shi rained more blows on Barik, driving him down. In that brief moment, Chun Ho caught a glimpse of her face. Her usually gentle expression was transformed—flushed, fierce, and focused. Despite the chaos, a strange warmth stirred in his chest. Her resolute strength was both terrifying and endearing.

But there was no time to linger—Barik was now trying to snatch the tray from Ay-Shi’s hands. Chun Ho grabbed the knife from the floor and tackled Barik before he could fully rise. Pressing the blade to his face, Chun Ho growled, “Stay down!” Barik froze, terror in his eyes. Chun Ho spotted a roll of self-adhesive bandage on the floor and rolled it over to Ay-Shi.

"Bind him," Chun Ho said hoarsely.

She dropped the tray with a metallic clatter and quickly wound the bandage around Barik’s ankles. Barik offered no further resistance, allowing them to bind his hands as well. They did the same to the whimpering Wu and still-groggy Zoltan, working with silent urgency, like assassins in a crime dorama.

When they finished, their eyes met.

Sitting on the floor amidst the ransacked room, Ay-Shi’s eyes immediately filled with tears. Chun Ho realized she must be thinking all this blood was his. He crawled over to her and kissed her salty, wet eyes, one at a time. The adrenaline that had sustained him ebbed away, leaving only exhaustion.

Slowly, Chun Ho lay back, pulling her with him. She rested her head on his chest, breathing softly as he listened to her heartbeat slow and steady. Words felt unnecessary. Chun Ho was happy.

# 2. Equations

With a sudden, unpleasant jolt, the memostream halted. For a moment, Korvo found himself in total darkness, then his consciousness returned to the lecture hall. Professor Zhu, leaning casually on the podium, surveyed the students as they slowly came to their senses. Many of them were flushed, and a few discreetly wiped away tears—the memostream had been deeply emotional. Even though the sensations from the memostream were limited to a "safe" level, the especially sensitive couldn’t help but react. After all, humans are biological machines; strong emotions trigger the sympathetic nervous system, and there’s no avoiding that.

Once the room had settled, Zhu began to speak.

"So, you’ve just witnessed the miraculous rescue of two young people from the clutches of villains. Naturally, this event will imprint them. The only question is the degree of impact. That will be your homework."

He gestured toward the board, where columns of numbers had been neatly written.

"Using the parameters for our heroes listed here and the standard values for the social environment, calculate the epsilon-stability of this couple at 20-100 years assuming marriage at 20. Assignment B, optional, is to calculate the same adjusting for population-average gender differences. Compare your results with those from Assignment A and explain any discrepancies. Any questions?"

Someone began to ask a question, but Korvo wasn't listening, lost in thought about the assignment. As the bell rang, a university staff member entered and spoke quietly to the professor. Zhu took the microphone again and announced:

"Professor Vishyakani will not be giving a lecture today, so you have the next hour free. If anyone has questions, I'll stay for another fifteen minutes."

The students began to gather their things, Korvo stood up and went home.

Korvo lived in a small family cottage on the university grounds. He wasn't married and rented it with some help from his uncle. This was slightly against the rules, but such things were usually overlooked. The alternative was dormitory life, which Korvo didn't like, especially after the previous semester's experience of sharing space with three alcoholics.

He replayed the scene from the memostream in his head once more. Artistic fiction, of course, a bit too extravagant. But from a technical standpoint, the scene was well-executed, the sensations vivid and believable, unlike the mass-produced stuff from the memonet. From a pedagogical standpoint, the scene was a textbook example of imprinting factors: joint actions, success reinforcement, elements of self-sacrifice, mutual assistance—all neatly woven together.

The calculations for Assignment A did not worry him. He only needed to specify the boundary conditions, and the computer would handle the rest. There were a few pitfalls for weaker students, but none that concerned Korvo.

Assignment B, however, was more challenging. Adjusting for gender differences would likely show a slight increase in stability—perhaps 1%—but explaining why was the real test. The default answer was obvious: gender differences are the product of evolutionary processes, likely enhancing stability in pair bonds over time. This explanation was as universal as it was shallow. Firstly, evolution didn't always produce optimal solutions. Secondly, in the subtle realm of human psychology, even defining an "optimum" was a challenge? let alone calculating evolutionary trajectories. Professor Zhu would never award top marks for such a simplistic answer. He decided to experiment with adjustments and explore asymptotic behavior.

Korvo tried to sketch out the general solution structure. He noticed a pole of symmetry in the system, meaning there should be a mirror solution for every stable one. This in itself was strange. Each solution corresponds to a stable state of a human in a social unit, in this case, a married couple. If two stable solutions exist, it means there are two fundamentally different categories of families. Meanwhile, it's commonly known that all happy families are happy in the same way. Not that this is a scientific fact, but if there was a categorization of families, Korvo would surely know. And certainly, the memonet would be filled with headlines like "Identify Your Family Category" or "Which Zodiac Signs Suit Cat X" and so forth. But there was none of that. Maybe the solution is self-symmetric? But then the pole itself would have to be a solution. Korvo mulled over the equations and concluded that this wasn't possible. So, there must be at least two solutions. Or did I get the symmetry wrong? He started recalculating the coefficients, hoping the symmetry would disappear, but the result didn't change.

Interesting, why did Zhu include this in the course, anyway? What difference does it make how stable a particular family is? Well, for the family itself it's important, but on a societal scale, Korvo saw no applications. Korvo was studying social modeling, where they discussed global socioeconomic phenomena. Movements of millions and billions of people. Whatever the circumstances of one family, it doesn't affect society. But it's in the lectures, so there must be a practical application. Is it possible, for example, to mass-imrint families for targeted stability thresholds? But how? Mass-implant memories? Firstly, it's expensive; secondly, implanted memories are not equivalent to real ones. Creating memories naturally is even more expensive. Okay, suppose there is a cheap practical way to imprint millions, then it would be used in social programs. Korvo had read a lot about governmental programs and had never encountered any mention of this. Something doesn't add up.

Although, considering the applicability conditions... The equations describe the action of unconscious factors, if the subject becomes aware of the equations applied, then the factors become conscious. Hence, the equation is only applicable when the subject is unaware of its existence. So, if such a social program exists, it must not be publicly known. On the other hand, someone has to manage the program. Such a curator must understand the theory, so the equations don't apply to him and the program doesn't affect him. This is becoming much to complicated, I must be missing something simple.

In the meantime, he approached the cottage. Then it dawned on him that there was nothing to eat at home, groceries would be delivered only in the evening. There was no point in coming here between lectures, it would have made more sense to go to the cafeteria. Well, at least Nashi had a free day today, I'll ask what psychology knows about stable relationship categories. Nashi was a third-year psychology student and had moved in with him a couple of months ago, almost immediately after they met. Anticipating her surprise, he opened the door and walked in.

Korvo went through the hallway and looked into the room. In his bed sat a guy with bare torso, staring at a memophone. Sounds of running water came from the open bathroom door. Korvo froze in the doorway. The guy looked at him with interest, then yelled towards the bathroom, "Nashi-i-i!" The sound of water stopped, "I'm coming," came her voice. Something inside Korvo snapped. He absentmindedly left the house, closed the door behind him, and headed back to the academic building.

What was he expecting? Obviously, a lively girl like her wouldn't be satisfied with just one boring Korvo. Surely she didn't need Korvo at all, but liked the convenient apartment. And why not sleep with him, it's not hard for her. Oh, how disgusting, while he's at lectures, she invites this guy over for half an hour. Then I'll come back from class, and she'll say "hi there" and give a playful kiss? Well, of course, why not? It's no surprise. Who needs you, a soulless box of formulas? You'll get a diploma, a position at the Ministry, and find yourself a wife. She will also be with you just for the money and convenience. She will ignore your mumbling, flirt with everyone, and cheat on you. Of course, she's a woman; she needs a living, human husband, not a robot like yourself. All because you're simply uninteresting. He envisioned himself explaining to a Ministry psychologist that he fundamentally doesn't accept marriage. And in response, the psychologist says, "Your psychological profile suggests otherwise." And there's no getting rid of this guy; how do you prove that a stable partnership for me is simply impossible? Actually prooving is my speciality, I only need to write down some equations. Suddenly it occurred to him that the equations from the lecture are suitable for this case as well, and immediately it became clear where the second solution came from. It's not another type of stable relationship, it's stable solitude. He began to estimate possible impact parameters, say -5 RIZ, rejection. A sudden highly-emotional event, such as betrayal, just like what have happened today. Hm, what a strange coincidence. Wait a minute, is someone imprinting me? Maybe today's betrayal isn't a betrayal at all, but a charade? He imagined Nashi, dressed in the gray uniform of the Agency, clicking her heels and reporting:

"Today's report, sir, promising analyst Korvo Bewitz has been imprinted for eternal solitude!"

"Excellent, Agent Nashi, keep up the good work!"

What nonsense, he gave his head a shake, though the knot in his chest had already dissolved. What seemed like a catastrophe a minute ago now looked like a farce. When a situation can be described mathematically, what room is there for emotions? At most curiosity, but certainly not jealousy or resentment. On the other hand, if I know about the equations, which violates the applicability conditions. Hence, imprinting me wouldn't succeed, nor could it have succeeded. He felt the dangerous proximity of a philosophical paradox and chose not to follow the thought further. He always was weary of philosophy. It is similar to an open space, there's no foothold, a mathematician sucked into it becomes stranded.

# 3. Games

Korvo entered the academic building and headed to the cafeteria. At a table in the far corner, Vishyakani and Zhu were playing chess. Zhu had no respect for the sportsmanship of chess and constantly cheated. Everyone knew this, and no one agreed to play with him. Except for Vishyakani—it somehow didn't bother her.

"Strange that she's even here," Korvo thought, "it's been no more than half an hour since the lecture ended." It meant she was only slightly late, which in itself was unusual. Within the city, one could reach any destination in a predictable time with a margin of error of only 2%—a figure from the Ministry's annual report. Transport accidents were exceedingly rare, and an accident would delay her more than 20 minutes. Being late by 20 minutes due to illness was impossible as well.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

There weren't many people around. Korvo got himself some tea and a muffin, greeted Vishyakani, and sat at a table next to the players. Zhu glanced at him questioningly.

"May I watch the game?" Korvo asked.

"Of course," Vishyakani said amiably.

Korvo took a bite of his muffin and washed it down with tea. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important. Dispensing with the remainder of his politeness, Korvo asked, "Professor Zhu, how can one determine if they are the target of an artificially arranged imprinting?"

Zhu pondered. "With certainty—you can't," he said, moving his bishop to the center. In doing so, he pushed a pawn forward with the sleeve of his jacket. Vishyakani calmly returned the pawn to its place and attacked the bishop with a knight. Unperturbed Zhu continued:

"However, there are probabilistic methods. Read the monograph by... what's-his-name, Kreivitz, Kreitzer? On second thought, don't bother, it's too complex for you. And unnecessary. Why such a question—was the lecture that impressive?"

"I had an unpleasant incident, but I couldn't help but notice it was described by the equations from today's lecture. I then started wondering if the incident could have been deliberately staged. Of course, it's unlikely, but there are a number of strange coincidences..."

A wild thought flashed through Korvo's mind that Vishyakani's lateness to the lecture might be part of a conspiracy against him, Korvo. A conspiracy designed to send him home to encounter Nashi's betrayal and be imprinted by the event. Calm down, Korvo, that's your paranoia speaking. He involuntarily grimaced from the cringe of it, but continued:

"In general, the applicability is unclear to me now. It seems that if a person is aware of the equations, they don't affect them. But how can one know in advance if a specific person is aware? The equations are in a publicly accessible textbook, potentially known to everyone. And if so, then they're fundamentally inapplicable?"

"From a mathematical standpoint, that's correct," Zhu started.

While speaking, he made a move with his rook, nudging the black-square bishop with his elbow. Now he had two white-square bishops.

"But in practice, people primarily rely on emotions," Zhu continued as if nothing happened. "The equations describe the workings of the emotional core, which is not directly controlled by the intellect. So, simply knowing the equations is not enough; one must, first, be able to solve them, and second, be dissatisfied with the solution and strive to change the result. Then one can analyze the parameters, understand what needs to change, undergo a course of self-suggestion, make adjustments in behavior, and so on, repeatedly. For most people, that's too complicated—it's easier to accept oneself 'as is.' After all, in modern society, there's a place for everyone. So yes, for certain individuals, the equations are inapplicable, but on a societal scale, such people are negligibly few, within the margin of error," Zhu concluded, raising a finger instructively.

He seemed satisfied with his move. Vishyakani was deep in thought. She didn't adjust the shifted bishop. Korvo decided not to intervene and instead said:

"But there's a potential instability here. What if one of these 'understanding' people influences societal parameters en masse, say, through memonet? This would distort the parameters for many people, potentially billions, which isn't just a margin of error. I think some stabilizing agent is needed. Is there a theory on this?"

Vishyakani snapped out of her contemplation, moved her rook to the central line, and immediately made a second move, attacking Zhu's rook with a bishop. Korvo thought Zhu would protest, but he wasn't surprised at all by the double move. Frowning, he was completely focused on the position. They must be playing by some unconventional rules, Korvo finally realized. The thought brought relief, as the chess part of his brain immediately shut down and stopped consuming glucose.

"I have a seminar on this topic," Vishyakani said. "On Thursday, come by. No special preparation is needed."

"And what specifically..." Korvo began, but Zhu cut him off angrily:

"That's enough questions, stop disturbing our game!" He waved his hand as if shooing Korvo away.

"My apologies..." Korvo said, standing up.

"Thursday," Vishyakani said.

"I'll come," Korvo replied.

# 4. Thursday

Korvo entered five minutes before the start. Vishyakani wasn't there yet; in the room were two girls and a guy, all unfamiliar. The guy was writing some formulas on the board, apparently preparing for a presentation. A platinum blonde was sitting, absorbed in her memophone. The girl with shoulder-length black hair looked bored. Seeing Korvo, she perked up.

"Oh, a newbie! Another one left the matrix. What's your name?"

"Korvo," said Korvo.

"Lina," the girl extended her hand, Korvo shook it lightly, looking into her serious gray eyes.

"What do you mean 'left the matrix'?" he asked.

"She watches ancient video streams and constantly quotes them, don't mind her," said the blonde without looking up from the screen.

"That's Sana," Lina said, "she's most critical, but still a charmer. I don't just watch video streams; I watch films. Unlike streams, it's a noble art."

"Is it something like newsreels?" asked Korvo, who was somewhat familiar with late Middle Ages.

"Not quite. Newsreels are recordings of real events. A film is an artistic work. It's like doramas on memonet, but you observe the action from the outside, with only sight and hearing, no other sensations or emotions."

Korvo wanted to ask why that's better, but Vishyakani entered, and the conversation was cut short.

"Everyone's here, wonderful," she said. "Johan, we'll start with a brief introduction for Korvo, and then we'll hear your presentation."

The guy sat at one of the desks, and Vishyakani at the teacher's table. After a brief pause, she spoke, addressing Korvo.

"Our seminar is called 'Social Models of Higher Orders.' Usually, one attends after the E4 course, but I think you'll find it interesting. Your recent conversation with Professor Zhu is right on our topic. The roots of this science go back to the time of the first information revolution. Back then, sociology, psychology, and economics existed as separate disciplines. The mathematical apparatus was weak and scarcely applied. All three sciences were primarily descriptive in nature, with little predictive power. The most developed of them, economics, mainly boiled down to quantitative calculations of supply and demand. The market model assumed equal information among all participants, resembling physical models of an ideal fluid, but instead of molecules, there were people. However, people are not molecules; they act collectively and follow trends. For instance, suppose the Ministry issued an extreme economic forecast; it by itself creates a public trend, meaning markets adjust their behavior based on the forecast, and as a result, the forecast fundamentally cannot come true. By the early 21st century, as economies grew, market instability increased. More and more players had free funds for speculation. This amplified the influence of trends, and the emergence of social networks accelerated their spread. In just a few hours, a simple discussion in the memonet could turn into an economic trend. It became clear that trends are an independent factor that also needs modeling. The first breakthrough was the Batanga-Lorenz model, which, in a simplified form, was presented in Professor Zhu's lecture. However, attempts to apply it revealed that some economic agents account for even this model—they likely didn't know the equations themselves but developed an intuitive understanding of trends. This led to the development of second-order models, then third, then hybrid models, and so on; together, they're called higher-order models. Nowadays, these models are used in all areas of societal management. In the seminar, we examine both practical models and promising developments. Is everything clear so far?"

"Overall, yes," Korvo said uncertainly. "But many questions arise..." In reality, he had only one question: why was he, Korvo, invited here? All of this was too vast and complex. "Why have I never heard about these models?" he asked aloud.

"Partly because it's a very narrow field," Vishyakani replied, "and also because their very existence isn't advertised. Simply put, society functions optimally when the rules of the game are not fully known. This law can be formulated strictly mathematically, but it's better to start with examples. Let's hear from Johan now; he will present an interesting model, and then we'll discuss everything in detail."

# 5. Studies

Thus began a new chapter in Korvo's life. Having always considered himself a strong student, Korvo quickly realized that in this group, he was just average, if not a bit behind. His entire life focused on Vishyakani's seminar; he handled everything else on a leftover basis. Previously, he diligently tried to earn all extra points in his core subjects; now he indifferently settled for passing grades to make time for higher-order models.

Meeting Lina didn't create any more time. She was amazing in every way. Firstly, despite matching Korvo's prowess in mathematics, she held no particular reverence for it. Maybe it came from his family, but for Korvo, mathematics had always had a sacred aura. It was implicitly understood as the only thing of true value, with the material universe serving merely as its vessel. Lina disagreed with this notion and even poked fun at Korvo's desire to turn everything into an equation.

Secondly, Lina loved films and insisted that art was more important than mathematics. Partly she did this to tease Korvo, but there was also a hint of seriousness in her statements. Korvo would have dismissed such nonsense without a second thought if it came from a layperson, someone uninformed, but not from Lina. She didn't feel the need to argue this strange point of view. "You'll understand eventually, let's watch a film instead" she would say.

They watched films together. Mostly, these were from the 20th century, which Lina considered essential for cinema. This was a completely new realm for Korvo. His mathematical training didn't help, as films mostly lacked logic. There was no clear criterion for what made a film good. The best film was determined not by realism, quality of imagery, or even novelty of the plot, but by some subtle emotional tone not previously expressed in any other films. If a film was illogical or even absurd, that in itself was not a flaw. On the other hand, the slightest stylistic misstep could ruin a film. Korvo sensed there might be some kind of math hidden there, and even secretly attmepted to derive it. He didn't quite succeed, but he did find something interesting, which greatly surprised Lina, who looked at him a bit condescendingly.

Another source of fascination for Korvo were the seminar materials. They came in pairs of project-reports, stamped by the Ministry. The project described the model and expected results, and the report detailed the implementation dates and output indicators. If there were significant deviations from the plan, a short analysis of possible causes was provided. They were signed not with names, but with hash codes. Some codes repeated, with three appearing particularly often:

k3Necb0kP4C7upfjDAY30KCFF

er1cdVbdMKhE8wN9sSzlC4+qh

BiLaqHSNC3KdUGyIruQWk41HI

Korvo didn't know what they meant, but he assumed they were encoded names of the authors. He referred to them mentally as Ken, Eric, and Bill. Over time, he even began to recognize the individual style of these three and could tell from the text which one was the author. Judging by the uniformity of the reports, all these documents were written by a small group of scientists and originated from a common source deep within the Ministry. In conversations, this source was simply referred to as the Department. The other students knew about it little more than Korvo did. Korvo tried to question Vishyakani directly, but she replied that it would only be discussed after the exam, which would happen "in due time."

The mathematics of the models wasn't very complex. Rather, the complexity lay in the infinite variety of ways the same equations were applied to the human masses. There were correct and incorrect methods of application. There was a separate science of isolating models from each other, as many were being implemented in parallel. The geography of the models was unrestricted; there wasn't a corner of the world untouched by the reports. The topics varied widely too, encompassing economics, demographics, ecology, transportation, production, and even culture. The only common thread was the involvement of large masses of people and an implicit method of influence.

# 6. Summer Break

The school year flew by quickly, even too quickly. For the summer vacation, Korvo invited Lina to visit his cousin Mark's alpine house together. Cousin Mark worked on the Coil and welcomed any guests, provided they can handle "quantum speak". The house was located in a breathtakingly beautiful place near the mountain lake. However, it was a little too far from cousin Mark's work, so about five nights a week he slept in the laboratory, not bothering to return home. Cousin Mark's wife has left him long ago, so Lina and Korvo mostly had the house to themselves. They spent time swimming in the lake, hiking or raiding nearby towns.

Amazingly, Lina have soon figured out the "quantum speak" and could converse on par with the cousin. Mathematically this was all gibberish, but Lina said she grasped the "poetics of quanta" and that no actual math is required. "Speak with your heart!" she explained her method. Their bouts with the cousin usually ended in a mutual stupor, but the cousing was still impressed. "You have great grasp of basics, come work in my lab after the graduation" - he said. "I have plans already" - she replied.

Summer was drawing to a close, with a week left until the start of the school year. Korvo woke up on the bed in the twilight of the room. The reflections on the walls had already turned orange, and a cool breeze wafted in through the slightly open window. They had returned from the lake around three o'clock and were so tired that they slept in the curtained room until evening. To get up or not to get up? He looked at Lina's silhouette in the twilight; she was still sleeping. Almost a year had passed since their first meeting.

Now that Korvo knew that the Vishyakani seminar served as the entrance gate to the Department, he sometimes pondered the future. Would they accept him? Of course, he tried hard, completed all the assignments, but who could say what exact achievements were expected from candidates? No one knew or wanted to tell him how the selection process worked. He understood that the exam as such will never come, one day they would simply inform him of the decision. No one even knew what the compensation and conditions were. They should be good, it follows from the math. Lina was firmly determined to pass. Korvo also wished to.

All this secrecy weighed on Korvo. Since childhood, he had been taught that truth and openness were always preferable, especially in science. Everyone around seemed to think so. Talk shows continually emphasized the "transparency" of modern society. It seemed that there were no shadows left in the world, that we lived in an era of light. There were, of course, some household secrets, the military kept their weapons hidden, but all this was on the periphery. And now it turned out that at the heart of the Ministry was a Department whose very essence was secrecy. The Department's work cycle was as follows:

1. A new model is introduced.

2. The model produces an effect, but over time society adapts, and the effect diminishes.

3. The Department responds by creating a new, adjusted model.

And so on in a circle. Secrecy was a key component: if the parameters of the model were published at step 1, society would adapt instantly, and there would be no effect. It turned out that the mathematics of the Department worked only in combination with secrecy, which was akin to a paradox for Korvo. Mathematics, the most open, most transparent science, yet here before him was an equation that involved deception. Unbelievable, impossible. He wanted and couldn't find a contradiction. Korvo mentally reviewed the elements of the theory one by one, and for the hundredth time, everything matched, not the slightest flaw, not a shead of doubt. A perfect self-correcting system. Thanks to it, all vices and weaknesses, all human flaws would work only for the benefit of society. Thanks to it, there would be no more world wars or even local conflicts. Thanks to it, humanity would never destroy itself. Yet once upon a time, such a thing was possible. How peacefully we live in this blessed era. With a shudder, he imagined countless generations dying in darkness, dirty, diseased, hungry, hunted, dying with pleas and curses on their lips, not knowing if there had been any meaning to their lives. No wonder their hearts yearned for faith. How weak a consolation must be — faith, when you cannot know with certainty, cannot calculate. Could I be content with it?

On the other hand, it's amazing how, in such chaos, humanity nevertheless progressed. Of course, there were periods of regress, but overall progress continued. How does a perished civilization rise up from the ashes? By chance? Time and time again - by chance? Or is there an invisible super-algorithm governing us, like a swarm of insects is governed? Is it ingrained in our genes or in culture? People are ants, and civilization is our anthill. Most of us tread only a small patch of it, moving grains of ideas from place to place all our life. Learning things and then teaching the same things to the next generation. But then there are those who can combine ideas, to create new ones. It is thanks to them that progress moves forward.

I wonder who and when was the first to combine ideas? How one unites two concepts? For instance, there is a tree and a stone, two familiar objects. But can they be combined? Linguistically — yes, say a stone-tree. But what does it mean? A tree by the stone? A petrified tree? A stone resembling a tree? The meaning depends on the conjunctions, the prepositions, and adverbs. It's easy to come up with nouns or verbs; they are familiar even to animals, but connective words became a great discovery. They were invented by an unknown giant of thought, a true Prometheus, hairy and wild. If this person were born today, would they be just an ordinary person? Or would they outshine the greats, such as Newton, Euler, or even Arachus II?

# 7. Conversation

Korvo felt eyes on him and his thoughts returned to the room. In the dim light, Lina's eyes gleamed; she had woken up.

"What are we dreaming about?" she asked in a sleepy voice. She would always notice when Korvo drifted into his thoughts.

"About apes..." Korvo admitted carelessly.

Over the year they had been together, he realized that conversing with a woman was also a game with unclear rules. Depending on the context, you shouldn't lie completely, but you can't tell the whole truth either. Despite the tremendous progress of humanity, Korvo couldn't find a clear guide on the topic in the library.

"Tell me," she said.

Korvo sighed. Lina loved listening to his streams of consciousness, but Korvo felt a little embarrased.

"I was thinking how an ape invented spoken language."

"And how?"

"There was one male who figured out how to combine words. Let's call him Adam," Korvo began. "One day, Adam was sitting by the cave, and Eve was sitting next to him. Eve says, 'go fruit' and points to a fruit grove."

"How can she speak if language hasn't been invented yet?"

"The words already existed, but only verbs and nouns, it wasn't yet a language. To have a language, you need to string words into sentences. So Adam replies, 'storm wait, fruits later' and points to a thundercloud. Eve understood the idea in general, but the word 'later' didn't exist yet; Adam had just invented it. Eve tried and couldn't grasp what 'later' meant. She thought and thought, and suddenly it struck her. She was so impressed that she whispered passionately, 'Oh Adam, you're so smart, hurry and make me children!'"

Korvo reached out and tried to embrace Lina, but she wriggled out giggling, and slid off the bed in the process.

"Later, Adam, later," she said getting up. "And anyway, your story is wrong. It was Eve who invented language, she was the first to eat the fruit of knowledge and only then shared with Adam."

Lina quickly combed her hair and gathered it into a bun.

"Maybe that's just details," Korvo said, also getting up. "By the way, Adam had a brother."

"Did he start talking too?"

"No, he and his wife obeyed God and didn't eat the fruit of knowledge. Their descendants still live in paradise to this day."

"Uh-huh. Not the best choice, but I can relate. Well, I'll go make some tea."