Interlude Four – Irena Alexandrovna Kuznetsova
“… can see, there is no way that the human body can sustain such forces. The maximum pressure should be around six thousand pounds of force, and that is for a robust adult male. A small woman like we see here should be less.”
The other man nodded. “Yes, and this scene is not edited in any way, it was broadcast live and from multiple different angles and sources. We have analysed the footage, and her running speed is more than eight times the sprint world record. Her bones would simply shatter under that force.”
“Before that, there’s a number of bigger issues, isn’t there?” The first man was saying, bringing up a series of charts and graphs. “The muscles themselves cannot sustain such forces, and the tendons… in fact, it is theoretically posited than forty miles per hour is the maximum speed any human could achieve.”
“Not all science is right, it seems.” The second host let out a dry laugh. “Here, we have calculated an initial sprint here of over one hundred and seventy miles per hour, with acceleration matching the President’s own limousine, no, exceeding it. I think those textbooks have to go in the trash.”
“Is it really right to condemn them though, as this is clearly supernatural? Why, the President himself, in his address to the Federal Assembly, has admitted such, and called for all patriotic Russians to come forward and pledge their powers to the State, for the good of all Russia.”
“We are surely privileged to live in exciting times!” the man laughed. “Though the scientists will be weeping and tossing aside their libraries…”
Irena shook her head, irritated, a pout on her pale face. “Pizdets.” She spat a curse. “Any scientist who tosses aside their work because of this is a fool, a failure.” No, how is it possible not to be fascinated with such? After all, that girl, she is no bigger than I am… Looking down at her frail frame, she shook her head, white hair swaying in her pair of pigtails, while her pink eyes narrowed, watery and sore already from the strain of watching too much television.
“Oh, Irena, dear. I’ve told you, a pretty devushka like you should mind her language. Girls who swear aren’t popular with the boys.”
“Babulya, I’ve told you, I’m never going to be popular.” Irena sniffed. “As for my language, who is here to listen but us?” she told the kind old lady who was her maid, her servant, sometimes assistant, and surrogate parent while her mama and papa were away, which was almost always.
“That doesn’t matter. If you get into bad habits now, you’ll never break them.” The older woman said. “Here.” she handed Irena a mug, and she took them in her quivering hands, enjoying the fragrant smell. “Warm milk and cinnamon, just the way you like it, my dear.”
Taking a sip, the sharp edge in Irena’s gaze softened, and she looked like her age for a moment. Putting the cup down, she sighed. “So, I get that papa and mama are busier than ever, but I wanted to talk to them…” Her happy face turned into a sullen pout.
“It is the news, dear. Irena, just as you are a genius, your parents are important, clever people too. Why, the President himself has called for them, and others like them.” Irena’s eyes strayed to the TV, which was broadcasting more footage. As her look, the woman sighed. “Look, dear, you have to be a big girl now. Your parents are going to be very busy from now on. You will be as well! After all…” she brought out some sweets on a silver tray, and despite herself Irena reached out for some. “… you are the little genius of Russia! There’s a whole new world for you to explore now, isn’t there?”
She’s right, but it is a little frustrating. Turning away from the TV and the commentary, which was basic and lacked nuance, she sighed. “Yes, rejecting progress because it is unscientific is foolish.” Her pale skin flushed, and she remembered the conversation she had with the nameless comrade of hers only a few hours before, where she had done exactly the same and had been put in her place shamefully.
“You knew about this. When you said I was missing a spark…” Irena had typed out in English, the common language for scientists to communicate in worldwide. She spoke it fluently, of course, as well as several other languages. I have never seen the face or heard the voice of this collaborator. Nor has he… well, I assume it is a man through his style of language… seen mine. I am not permitted to reveal myself, I am too precious to the motherland. Besides… nothing good can come of it. She remembered the attempts to capture her or worse, the smoke, the scent of blood. Just thinking about it made her tremble and her eyes tear up, but it wasn’t the time to dwell on such.
“…did you mean magic? That is not science.” She typed accusingly, her small fingers dancing on her keyboard. There was a delay and for a moment Irena thought she would not be getting any response, only for the reply to surprise her, and for a moment she had stared at the blinking letters on the screen, rereading them, which was not like her at all.
“Just what do you think science is? Is it not the application of understanding and knowledge to achieve the desired result? If so, then how is magic… such an undignified term, which trivialises the study… any different? Cause begets effect. The blending of science and the aetheric arts, as well as even adherence, is the true essence of science, which we call mortal engineering.”
Mortal engineering? “I don’t recognise that term.” She had typed, curious. “And what are aetheric arts?”
Her unidentified correspondent replied quickly. “The arts of blending together the rules and laws of the mortal world with the less restricted, more malleable powers of the spiritual. Magic, for want of a better term, though a good mortal engineer such as myself would hate the term. After all, magic implies miracle, the simple happening of what one wishes for, no rules, no structure. And all things operate on underlying structure and laws, even if we are too blind to see them, too sparse in our understanding.”
Those words had resonated with Irena, and even now, thinking back, she remembered what she had replied. “Of course. They said the Earth was the centre of everything, and those that said otherwise were derided and persecuted. For a thousand years, the best invention humanity managed was a better plough. Now, we move from steam, to electricity, to silicon, to information. Each step unravelling more of reality.” Her eyes had shone as she typed furiously. “You… just who are you?”
“Like you, I am merely someone with boundless curiosity.” The answer was a non-answer, and frustrated her, but she realised he might well be under the same constraints and restrictions as her. “And I do find it fascinating to speak to those of like minds. A spark.” He had repeated. “It is not so difficult to make an automaton that reacts to external stimuli, and chooses appropriate actions. But it is merely breaking down and regurgitating already input ideas, is it not? That might serve, but it is not the true goal you seek, is it?”
“With enough input, it should be possible to have the building blocks to master any situation. After all, us humans are creatures who process new information and use what we learn in conjunction with prior knowledge. Therefore we constantly expand the information we can act upon. My machines, they shouldn’t be any different.” she had pouted, annoyed by his dismissal of her efforts thus far.
“Yes, I agree. It would be a wonderful world with everything tidy and neat, all ones and zeroes. I rather enjoy the clarity and precision of mortal sciences, compared to the underlying chaos that masks the rules of higher realms, it is so clean, pure. But deeper chaos means deeper rules. It is like this… quantum, no? I find it hard to grasp, but the harder something is to understand, the more it holds within.”
She hadn’t been able to argue, finding the truth from chaos and creating a set of rules that would take the most complex thing she knew, intelligence, and creating it artificially, was her life’s dream. “So, what… what spark do you suggest? I am not one of these users of magic… no, aetheric arts, as you called them. This adherence too, it puzzles me. From my understanding of English, it could mean either sticking something to another surface, which seems unlikely to be what you meant, or commitment to a person, cause or belief.”
“Clever.” The man had typed. “Yes, there is power in belief, if sincere and deep enough. Enough power to shape reality. But even that has rules. The greater your understanding, the greater the success. A shame. Obviously you were not chosen. I must question the Gods.” She had almost been able to feel the dry humour from his words on her screen. “Were I one, inquisitive, clever mortals such as you would have been my first choice. Then, I suppose not all have chosen poorly, as I well know.”
“You continue to speak of these matters as though you understand them well, when as far as I can tell, the world was largely unaware.” She had pressed him, not getting an answer. “Perhaps… have you considered relocating to Russia?” she had said boldly, surprising herself. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to make such an offer, but for a scientist of such a calibre, I was certain that the Institute could make an exception…
“A tempting offer, but I am afraid I already serve another master.” She held in her disappointment at his response, and surprise at his continuation. “Perhaps instead I should offer you the same? My master, he would be interested in your skills, and could have much to teach you.”
She had shaken her head, even though there was no way her correspondent could see her. “I am afraid such is impossible. I am the little genius of Russia, my parents are here, my loyalty too.” Her fingers trembled as she typed. Though experimenting with such knowledge would be truly marvellous. But… “Besides, I am… rather frail and unwell. I need constant care and supervision. I suspect this master of yours would soon tire of that. And my research… it is not profitable.” Not yet, currently it devours rubles at an alarming rate. Though when it bears fruit, the results will be beyond imagination, I know it!
“Profit… well, my research should be profitable enough to cover a number of projects.” She had felt the pride in those words. “Of course, there are a few critical issues to work out, but soon…” There was a long pause, and for a moment she thought he had been disconnected, before some surprising words appeared on her screen. “… you are a girl, right?”
“I have not hidden it…” she had typed, worried. Obviously, while Irena was hardly worldly-wise, she was aware of the rules of using the internet, that girls were often targets of exploitation and harassment. Surely a notable scientist should be above such petty things?
“I see. Forgive my curiosity. It is just my master does so love to meddle in the lives of girls in trouble, much to the amusement of the princess.” Princess? More words followed. “It is probably not my place to say, but should you ever find yourself in a state where your health becomes a burden, do contact me. It would be a great shame to lose such a keen mind…”
Taking another sip of her warm milk, which was now slightly cooled as her thoughts had strayed, she sighed, her attention back to the present. “My thoughts were shallow. Though I never did manage to find out just who he was. No, what he was. Though I have my suspicions. The use of the word mortal…” She turned her attention back to the television. Talk was turning to the fact that the British Prime Minister had released a statement saying that Prince Henry’s condition had stabilised, and a full recovery was expected in due course. They put up the images of his burned body and missing arm that had been observed by chance, and Irena looked away, hands trembling.
“Little Irena, you should not be watching such things! It is not for the eyes of a young devushka to see.” She was chided by the older woman. “Instead, why not have a cookie? I baked them fresh this morning.”
The smell was enticing, and Irena hesitated. Then, unable to resist, she stretched out a hand and took one, taking a bite, the satisfying crunch and subtle sweetness pleasing her. As her guardian smiled, Irena looked resolute. “I cannot turn away my eyes from reality. If such wounds can be healed, what else can be done? If I don’t keep up with the latest developments, I will be left behind, my work worthless.”
“Nonsense.” The older woman disagreed. “Even if that was the case, you’d turn your attention so something else, my dear. Just like your parents have…” she paused, her face changing, and Irena seized on that.
“Do you know what mama and papa have been doing?” she asked, not forgetting to finish her cookie. “Is it related to this?” She gestured to the Television, which was now showing a tall Russian man, dressed in military uniform, somehow freezing a large barrel of water, making the metal shatter and explode.
“I really shouldn’t say, you inquisitive little thing.” She demurred, waving her hands, but as Irena peered at her with her moist pink eyes, she gave in. “Fine, I should not be doing this, so do pretend you don’t know.” She looked towards the sturdy metal door that isolated her laboratory and living space from the wider laboratories. “Your parents are important people. Of course they have been chosen to investigate this new phenomenon. Now, don’t look at me like that…” she reached out and poked Irena’s cheek gently.
“Stop that, Babulya!” she waved her hands, only to have the old woman chuckle.
“... even if you pout and look at me with your pretty face, I can’t tell you any more. You think I move in those circles? I am just your caretaker, dear.”
“Anything you can tell me would help.” Irena insisted, unblinking.
“Oh, naughty girl” she ruffled Irena’s hair gently, again causing her to pout and protest. “All I know is, there are a number of new studies here at Fyodor Technical Institute. The security has been stepped up to levels even more frightening that is ordinary. Why…” she gestured to her security pass that hung on her chest wryly. “… just getting in here takes twenty minutes longer than usual.” She smiled. “I have to hurry my morning shower.”
“It is related to these new powers, these aetheric arts?” Irena said shrewdly.
“Aetheric arts? I haven’t heard the term. Is that something you coined, clever girl?”
As Irena shook her head, her Babulya continued, chattering away brightly. “Yes, more brilliant minds and loyal Russians are gathering here, working together. To think, we are at the heart of it. So, your parents are busy, don’t blame them for not taking more time to see you. Matters will settle down again, ride slower, get further, my dear. Matters have been hastened…” she scowled at the television. “The good thing is, nobody will trouble you now, my devushka. If anyone tries to abduct you again, they will not even set foot on the grounds of the Institute!”
“I think my value might be dropping.” Irena said sadly. “How does that even work?” The man on screen was freezing more barrels, and through he was starting to sweat, his face pale, he looked proud, as the commentators were saying this was the start of a new era of Russian dominance, with powerful and brave Russian citizens the match for any in the world. “Those barrels contain roughly a hundred litres of water. Assume the air temperature is around five degrees, and the water temperature has evened out for simplicity…” She rapidly did the maths, her mind working. “That would be around two point one million Joules, plus a further thirty-three point three million Joules to crystalise the ice, all delivered so rapidly. If we call it thirty-five million for simplicity, thirty-five Megajoules…” She shook her head, astounded. “That is impossible. It’s like producing the energy of a litre of gasoline from nowhere, and he has done it numerous times. The human body doesn’t output such energy. No... I am letting what I believe to be true conflict with the reality in front of me.”
“What do you mean? You’re not useless, my dear, no. Don’t even joke about such things!” the woman said, and Irena waved her worries away.
“I know. I was just feeling sorry for myself. I have seen the running girl. This is in a way less surprising. But…” she ran some hasty calculations. “Regrowing an arm for the Prince would require significantly more energy than freezing some water. Creating matter from nowhere would require apocalyptic amounts of energy due to E=MC2. No, it would have to accelerate biological processes to make any sort of sense, but even then, the energy demand would be staggering.”
“It would be more valuable too.” The old woman smiled. “Though making the cookies you like out of thin air would be better, no?”
“Don’t tease me, I’m thinking!” Irena flushed, her pale skin glowing red hot. “Some of the issues I have been encountering…” The processors used to create the brains and nervous systems for my Artificial Intelligence run extremely hot, limiting the size and layouts possible… imagine if I could cool them so efficiently. Why, we could easily achieve a three-fold increase in effect, no, four-fold…
Taking a sip of her now cold milk, she grimaced, only for a gentle hand to take it away and replace it with a warm one. Taking a sip, her lips curved into a smile. “… if we assume the energy can be made electrical, rather than whatever thermal version was affecting the ice, then we could get further efficiency gains. It still might not be enough, as it lacks the spark, as he said, but I am a scientist. I plan, I test, I cry when it fails, I go and redraw my designs. I test…” her eyes narrowed, and she started designing something new. “There are a lot of assumptions here, matters I do not understand. But even taking the numbers as a baseline, assuming that the man freezing the water is no lie…” as she hummed to herself she didn’t notice the blanket draped around her shoulders, or her Babulya looking on fondly…
“Yes, if I had access to more information… I should have authority to see the full library of the Institute…” her hands typing rapidly, more screens came up, and she frowned, as she hit a password-protected security firewall. Surprised, she gnawed on her lip, taking another sip of warm milk. “I am not included in the access?” She stamped her foot in annoyance. “I could crack the security easily enough. My AI is more than up to that. But…” Mama and papa are involved. If I ask them… surely they won’t deny me, not after I see them so rarely…