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OLD FRIENDS

CHAPTER ONE: OLD FRIENDS

 

"There is a limit to how far friendship can give us forgiveness."

 

Everyone hopes his child will surpass him in good deeds. Even to be a role model. But that's not always the case. It hadn't been more than nineteen years by Zegandarian reckoning when someone fully realized what was actually happening. Many children could not wake from their cybernetic slumber. They didn't even want to. "Save the children!" were the calls, but it wasn’t enough. The damage had already been done long ago, and the damage would not be repaired so easily. It was too hard to believe that these subjects, perfectly raised by their parents, would go down this path. Somewhere in their own warped minds, they were not reflecting reality correctly. Many of them didn't even want to grow up. The war for Au Kaktir and the Second Wave of Migration from Sebur Nag to the surviving adventurers were just like a drop in the ocean. Too fleeting an event, which incidentally could not help but be noted in the chronicles and annals of the planet.

The population remained, in spite of everything, too small. Less than a tenth of what it had been in the past.

Everything was passed over as if lightly. Everything was too quickly forgotten.

The cybernetic quiosis had been put in place as a preventative measure, but Doctor Gad ‘Di Enn was aware of many too cute ways to manipulate the minds of the new generation of adolescents. The important thing was to impress the adults. But that was just a lie the kids were entangling themselves in. They were also somewhat falling victim to their own parents' desire for vanity.

Doctor Gad ‘Di Enn, who was the chief physician of the planet Zegandaria, made heaps of money and gained immortal fame in his lifetime. He was simply an overly well trained and prepared master of deception and a terribly talented medic capable of unheard of results.

Whereas nineteen years ago it had all come down to some simple implantation of memories, now things were set on a completely different plane. Now the doctor was cunningly depriving adolescents from the so-called fourth level of consciousness - the universal or cosmic mind. They would never be able to enter the timeless realm. The Doctor undertook these deeds somewhat under the influence of impure forces guided by the famous magician and preacher Kazuk Mon - a mysterious man who came from who knows where! Eventually the two of them together committed this terrible crime against the population of Imgradon or Ensarian, who were now united and acting in an alliance under the name of the Zegandarian Confederation.

He was as if hypnotized and definitely impressed by his display of strength and power.

Sasia was now approaching fifty years of age. She was a settled woman and the mother of two sons. She definitely knew what she wanted out of life. She didn't fail to show them what they had to avoid at all costs.

Mark had also made a name for himself by scouring the environs of Ubunder, which had been attacked by a band of rampaging mutant samionts.[1] These creatures were not dangerous like the guarron of the past because they were under six feet tall and were too weak against a large and strong humanoid, especially if he was ex-military. He just swept them away and left them no chance.

Zorin was now at the venerable age of sixty-seven and looking forward to his retirement. And he had reason to be glad - they were going to award him a pension for special services to peacekeeping. That was going to be decidedly interesting. But he hadn't become an old and useless curmudgeon, and he continued to do his duty conscientiously. Somewhere deep down he felt that the path he had been on up to now was definitely the right one, but he hadn't the faintest idea what the future held for him. The new children were not like those of his time. They had their own habits and understandings. They had developed an entirely different world view. He needed to adjust to the new reality, lest he be declared a bit old-fashioned.

Zorin liked to hole up in his office at the Military Academy, which even bore his name. Inwardly he believed and felt that it was perhaps his only refuge. Why serve other people's interests anymore? Where was he in the whole picture? It was all coming to him a little too much. His whole life had been spent in war and training. He didn't know many other aspects of life.

He went to look after his sick mother, who was approaching ninety at the time. But no one let him into the ultramodern hospital because they didn't recognize him at first. This made a particular impression on him.

- "I am Major General Zorin, Meritorious Peacekeeper of Zegandaria.," he hastened to introduce himself.

They let him go. He walked carefully down the corridor that was to lead him to the cherished room.

- "I only pray that he recognizes me!," he almost cried, sitting down on a seat in the corner. Thoughts raced through his head like furious horses.

It was getting dawn, and he had not blinked. He knew he had to sleep for the next portion of lectures.

- "Something's really wrong," he continued with his musings.

Ser Mac Zon was the head doctor of the ward where the guarrons tended to the sick humans. After the cessation of hostilities, it was the most successful and honorable way to get involved in the new civilian life. They had undergone special cybernetic mind processing, which gave many advantages and increased their IQ. Contrary to the bloodthirsty nature of his race, the Doctor smiled sweetly and tried to comfort the bereaved, but the words seemed to reach his ears as if from another universe.

- In fact, Comrade General, she has breathed her last and there is nothing more to be done. That is all I know. But you will have the honor of personally burying her without having to go through the nanocremation procedure. I am truly sorry for your tremendous loss.

Zorin smiled wearily.

- You're not to blame, Doctor! You did what you could. It might as well have been her time. But everyone wants to see their parent one last time, right?

The doctor agreed silently. Zorin shook hands politely with the medic, turned, and entered the exanaran isolation capsule in which each patient was placed. The deceased's face looked very peaceful and she was illuminated by a pale light.

- "I could not tell you so much in my lifetime," a peculiar determination was written on his stern face, "that you may be better in the next world. But who knows!"

His hand stroked her brow. It was ice-cold. He was just caressing a sheath.

Then a strange thought ran through his mind. Why didn't the doctor want a nanocremation. That was by far the simpler option. Maybe under different circumstances he would have objected, but this time he just kept his mouth shut.

After he finished his visit to his hospital, he stopped by the cemetery where Grandpa Jack and the Rat were buried. He tried to pay his last respects to them.

Each mortal was laid under a special glossy lid and placed in a container of liquefied nitrogen to preserve their body forever. He could observe them like dead flowers that would never awaken from their eternal sleep.

- "How much we have actually been through!," the sigh fell from his lips. "You are a part of my former self!"

All was forgiven and forgotten. Faith in the morrow had triumphed. Where in jest, where truly.

- "Loneliness really can kill you!," thought Zorin as he slowly walked down the emolgarian slope towards the entrance of the cemetery.

It was early morning and the dew on the beautiful emery blossoms was still visible. He walked the entire distance slowly and carefully, but somewhere far ahead he noticed something suspicious. A small group that was digging too thoroughly through the corpses, or rather placing them in the aforementioned burial chambers of glossyandre. They were doing this with such awe that it would be downright irritating if they weren’t in such a place.

- "Sir, are you coming for the nanocremation?," a mennered voice behind him addressed.

- "Yes, I am," Zorin whispered softly, almost inaudibly.

- Then bring your mother's corpse. According to her electronic hospital record, her personal registration number is 0245215548FVGF.

- "I know that," murmured Zorin. "She'll be here in a moment."

- "Oh, and lest I forget, have you prepared enough credits?," the voice croaked, a little hurriedly.

- "Of course and more!," cut in Zorin. "I have even more. It is not convenient to ask such questions especially on such occasions."

And she turned her back on the annoying female android orderly who kept order in the cemetery park. This was just in time, for the corpse was approaching, carried on a tall nanoplatform with a geodesic anti-gravity cushion. It looked something like a coffin, yet it wasn't exactly that.

The son reached down to kiss his mother, but his lips could only touch the glossy lid. He slammed his fists down on it, which made his knuckles come out in comblike swells. Grief erupted from his chest and his eyes went black. From then on, everything was like a dream to him. The nano-screaming probe that was inserted into the inside of the corpse and burned him from the inside out, turning him into some sort of spindly thing before burning him away for good. It sucked, but it was extremely practical and cheap. And Zorin didn't know why he was doing this and unwittingly followed the doctor's order. After a few minutes, all that was left of his mother was a handful of dust. They placed it in an urn and put it in the appropriate parcel.

At the gate he stopped because the scrutiny was very intense. Everything had to be strictly observed and he idEntified himself with his narenzianan chip. Then he walked away with slow steps. He felt overwhelmed. That day was downright lost. But there was no way!

Far away from Ubunder, dense mesantioran forests swirled and were definitely a good place to rest and relax. A really nice place. But Zorin wasn't up for a rest. He had more important things to do and today's little visits only convinced him of his rightness.

The forests gave air to the planet and filled it with life. There were many settlers back, come just to see them. They were so majestic and even intimidating. Somewhere higher rose the consciousness of someone who went to this place. It was said, however, that only those who could not fit into the New Reality again disappeared there.

Though our adventurers had traveled vast territories and seen all sorts of things, they could never find the mythical Ninth Zone. It remained mysterious and inaccessible. Not even the crypt Andrew Dislan had reached could rival the hidden secrets of the military site. Zorin had of course been privy to some of Mark's story, which had even made it into the history books, but he vaguely suspected that there was something much bigger than him that was simply preventing them from seeing the truth.

A strange road wound its way to Tarash Duk, a special place of worship. Too many soldiers had died there, and it started directly after the Elandon field. The atmosphere of the place itself was amplified by a special aura that was said to have healing powers. Somewhere around here came the rouge 'g zon who could draw energy and charge from its power. But they were not looked upon with a kind eye by the public. Even many feared them and openly shunned them. And there was no other way.

The interior of the first circle of the pedestal was peculiar because it

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