CHAPTER 11. LOVE COMES UNEXPECTEDLY

“But I am! With Sputnik, the real thing. I specifically went to inspect the laboratory where they produced small batches without mixing anything else in. But in large batches they mix in ‘The Yoke’ at the final stage. It’s a multivalent genetic medicine for breeding a race of serfs. In the nineties and noughties they divided production, in the tens—land, and now it’s time to take care of people (for themselves). Submissiveness, work capacity, informing, and various other qualities can be not only cultivated but inoculated,” she revealed a state secret that half the country suspected if not knew.

“And what do they inoculate abroad?” he asked curiously.

“They haven’t thought of that yet. Their parliaments would ban it. Separation of powers and all that... And their manufacturers are private. But here everything’s under control: want Sputnik—please, want a fake vaccine—no problem, but all with a Yoke additive. Without it—only for the nobility, only by special order,” she defended the West and returned the conversation.

“So people aren’t fools for buying codes?” he said admiringly.

“Codes are a special story and need separate consideration. It’s backup insurance, in addition to cellular operator billing, surveillance cameras, and website cookies. It’s also a method for flexibly converting constitutionally guaranteed freedoms into privileges for the lords. Some codes can be more equal than others, understand?” she explained this topic too.

“So if I used to put on a mask, turn off my mobile, and leave it at home for safety, it was impossible to track me. But now information crumbs will remain after me, and it’ll be enough to connect the dots to see an approximate picture of my movements? So websites will also ask for codes and immediately report where needed? And when I want to fly domestically they’ll say ‘yes,’ but abroad—’no’?” he peppered her with guesses.

“Or they’ll send you by train altogether, because planes aren’t for the people. By the way, you’ll still have to fly with cranes and generally master aviation basics. I’ll send you an instructor starting next week. What should you say?” she clarified.

“Thanks, but no need,” he began declining.

“Indeed, it does not stand. This is from the tension relief that happened on your part. But the commander-in-chief declared it’s useful to keep partners in suspense. Now it’ll rise,” she ended the conversation, not accepting refusal with a cheerful stress correction and occupying her mouth with a nearby object.

From the next week he had to study physics—various angles and speeds, temperatures and pressures, play simulator, then ride to a small airfield where previously distant aircraft awaited him. He really preferred trains, where you could fall asleep in one city and wake approaching another. The scary fairy tale was surprisingly beautiful in the end. He liked the sensation of flight. He was inspired, parachuted, and began enjoying it. He decided he’d definitely get clean vaccine without the Yoke so as not to become a reptile and so his soul and body wouldn’t lose the ability to fly.