Replicants: Fantasy World

By EDGARS AUZIŅŠ

Where did the armadas of aliens that pierce the cracks of space without taking into account the costs come from? Why do they persist in searching the vastness of space for planet Earth? For replicants, artificial humans created for war, such questions do not come to mind, because their range of interests is strictly limited. Sometimes, however, fate takes its course, and the one who is made for a few battles or three gets a chance to survive...

• Language: English
• Publisher: EDGARS AUZINS
• Release date: Apr 4, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224033300

EDGARS AUZIŅŠ

Dzimis 1989. gada 22. decembrī. Absolvējis Rīgas Juridisko koledžu. Profesijā nav strādājis, bet apguvis programmēšanas prasmes un pašlaik ar to nodarbojas. Kopš 2022. gada ir personīgā uzņēmuma vadītājs, kas nodarbojas ar transporta pārvadājumiem, kā arī programmēšanu. Dzīvnieku, īpaši suņu, mīļotājs. Born 22 December 1989. Graduated from Riga College of Law. Has not worked in the profession, but has acquired programming skills and is currently working in it. Since 2022 he has been the CEO of his own company, which deals with transport transport as well as programming. Lover of animals, especially dogs.

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Table of Contents

Replicants (Fantasy World)

A replicant settlement...

A replicant settlement...

Replicant settlement, a day later...

The boundary of the swamp...

Two days later. In the vicinity of the ancient power plant...

The foothills of the ancient dam...

Technopark Yuzhnij. Early morning...

An unknown point in the room.

Earth. Megacity Russia...

Megapolis Russia. A few hours later...

Technical floor of the metropolis Russia. Six hours later...

Technical floor of the metropolis Russia. A day later...

Megapolis Russia. On the outskirts of the ancient cosmodrome...

An unknown point in space...

Ocean coast...

Alien planet. The surroundings of the wormhole...

South Coast...

Prologue

The morning turned out to be rainy, but warm. The wind was not felt in the thickness, only the rustle of the crowns of the trees, and a thick mist crawled along the ravines and depressions.

The forest looked mysterious, fearsome. Beneath the soft carpet of moss, one could see the outlines of some long-ravaged mechanisms. Their previous goal became useless due to severe damage.

Sometimes wild animals in search of edible roots break the green cover. Here, too, someone recently dug up the ground, leaving tufts of fur in the undergrowth and exposing parts of the devices that were scaling. Among them, a skeleton-like skeleton of a person stood out. The durable, corrosion-resistant alloy had a dull sheen. Droplets of water slid down the fleshless skull, chilling like cold reflections in the curvatures of artificial joints.

Meanwhile, the rain intensified. Shaggy clouds came from the south, from the coast, where strange phenomena atypical of normal nature took place. The air there trembled from the energies that engulfed it, swirled with countless tornadoes, became saturated with moisture and tiny particles of sand, and the prevailing winds carried the formed clouds hundreds of kilometers inland.

By noon, the bad weather was serious. It became noticeably dark and thunderstorms began. Hurricane gusts ravaged tree crowns, tearing off leaves and small twigs. The sky was boiling. More and more often, lightning struck, thunder rumbled constantly.

On the coast, masses of sand captured by hurricanes fell with precipitation. Sometimes tiny fragments of objects were found among the quartz grains.

Water gathered in rivers in muddy streams flowing through the depressions.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the forest clearing. In the place where the moss had revealed the details of the carcass, a deep puddle was now formed, the surface of which was mutating from the rain, shimmering silvery - the reason for this was tiny metallized patches of dust carried by a hurricane.

Several tiny vesicles floated between the leaves fluttered by the wind, similar to a pack of medicines. You could still see the corporation's logo on them— the letters merged into a stylized inscription, " nanotex ".

By evening, the storm had subsided. The rain subsided, the water gradually seeped into the ground, and the next morning, when the first rays of the sun melted the fog and illuminated the clearing, a mysterious process took place there.

Tiny, faintly glowing particles were covered with moss, earth, and the remains of worn-out devices, including a skeleton that looked like a human skeleton. At the same time, they did not remain static, but worked, apparently fulfilling their purpose. A hot haze flowed over the thinnest silvery coating; Microscopic devices moved, gradually gathering in dense clusters. This continued for several hours, then, when droplets of mercury penetrated the skull of the long-destroyed mechanism, a flash of light broke through, and the surrounding organic matter suddenly began to change.

Moss, branches, fallen leaves, pieces of tree bark, grass and even shrubs growing nearby lost their shape, decaying into brown powder. Mixing with moisture in the soil, it manifested itself in the form of a plastic substance that heated up, bubbled and flowed, gradually forming the outlines of a human figure lying on the ground.

However, the mysterious biotechnological process soon began to decline. Some of the capsules brought by the hurricane with the inscription nanotex were not enough, and the result of their efforts was, to put it mildly, questionable.

In the evening of the next day, the likeness of an ugly man lay in the clearing. His skin looked pale, with slits in places where muscles were visible.

The creature, whatever it was, looked non-functional, much less viable.

But, contrary to the laws of living nature, the fearsome resemblance of man first shuddered in convulsions, opened his eyes, and then tried to stand up, grabbing with his hand a branch of a tree that had fallen into the storm.

Chapter 1

An unknown point in space...

He wandered for a long time, not leading the way, not knowing the meaning of his existence. Tired, he lay down on the ground and fell asleep. Tormented by thirst, he drank water from puddles. Feeling hungry, he ate everything he could like crazy.

This went on for many days. He lived against all difficulties. The movements, which were initially sluggish and stupid, gradually gained coordination, the muscles became somewhat stronger, and his appearance was transformed: one day, when he fell asleep, the mysterious process repeated again. A haze of silver particles was pushed through his skin, which, perceiving the surrounding organic matter, formed the missing anatomical features.

Now he looked like an extremely emaciated young man, but that's where the resemblance ended. He lacked the main thing: a sense of the fact of his existence, so the aimless journey continued. Soon he wandered into the swamp and almost perished in the swamp. The swamp grabbed him tenaciously and greedily dragged him deeper, but when the muddy slurry had already reached his chin, he supposedly woke up. The gaze suddenly took on meaning. With truly inhuman force, betraying the desire to live, he managed to free his hand, from the trembling fingers of the tense, he reached out towards the tree growing on the hump, grabbed it and silently, biting his teeth, began to slowly pull up. , centimeter by centimeter, getting out of the swamp.

This event was a turning point. The awakened livelihood undoubtedly affected many things. A few hours later, having reached a small island that had disappeared among the swamps, he lost consciousness, and when he woke up, his gaze still retained a hectic meaningful sparkle.

The world was perceived weakly. Extreme fatigue was to blame. Struggling to get up, he looked around, not understanding how he got here?

The memory waved like an abyss of emptiness. There was only a moment of the present.

Cold...

Nude, smeared with swamp mud, he barely climbed the slope, stumbled, rolled into some narrow ravine, and fell silent for a moment.

Who am I?

The ringing emptiness didn't give an answer. A brief flash of memories flashed and overshadowed, dissipating into splashes of volatile events, but the chaotic images quickly melted, making it impossible to understand anything.

He stood up with difficulty, holding on to his roots with his hands.

It was hard to breathe. The ravine turned out to be an ancient communication route. Some concepts appeared by themselves, as if from nowhere.

He saw fragments of a camouflage net and realized that help could be found somewhere nearby, but inspiration let him down. A bloated, winding trench led him along the perimeter of a forest hill. I had to climb up and go straight through the thickets of bushes.

Soon the vegetation split, and then completely disappeared. The sun-heated concrete began to crack. Shallow craters and round traces of burns were visible in many places. In the center there was a pond with rainwater, from which fragments of an incomprehensible structure protruded.

Flooded pulse gun position...

The phrase didn't make sense. But does that mean anything? I know him? Or did you know this before?

The memory was silent.

THE MOUNTAIN IN THE middle of the swamps served as a good temporary refuge. Since the spark of self-confidence awakened in him, the world has become significantly more complicated. Simple needs have acquired meaning and meaning. Now he was careful not to eat anything and drink dirty water, armed himself with a piece of rusty fittings, and made a hip for himself from a piece of torn camouflage that was found at the bottom of a swollen trench.

Fortunately, the issue of food was solved quite simply. On the slopes of the mountain, berries grew abundantly, and a spring flowed out of the puffy limestone ledge, which was exposed by a landslide.

For several days he regained his strength and studied the old system of fortifications, trying in vain to regain the memory of the past, to understand who he was before?

A lot of things seemed familiar. For example, every time he looked at the submerged structures that rose above a circular concrete shaft, he felt confident: this is the position of a stationary pulse weapon, but where did the knowledge come from?

There are definitely other spaces in the depths of the mountain, thoughts flowed intentionally. Imagination immediately drew the possible structure of prisons: several casemates designed to store ammunition, and even deeper, perhaps, there was a power plant and a control center.

He could clearly visualize it, but he still didn't understand where the information came from? At times he was angry at his inertia, indifference to the environment, lethargy in movements and thoughts, as if the world around him had no meaning.

Eating, sleeping, burying in the leaves in search of salvation from the night cold, bask in the sun during the day, look at one point for a long time - this kind of actions now caused irritation of the subconscious, as if thoughtless vegetation was alien. him.

I wanted to make a difference. Radically. But the poverty of memories, or rather the complete absence of memories of the past, did not provide clues. What if there is no basic life experience, habits and a clear understanding of your place in the world?

THE TURNING POINT CAME unexpectedly.

There were no roads leading to a forest mountain lost in the swamps. Several landing sites revealed an earlier method of delivery - he noted this fact, already tired of breaking his brain on the question: why was the type of military infrastructure clear to him, but everything else was hidden in the fog. Limbo?

But with instincts, everything was fine. They had gotten worse from the moment he nearly died in the swamp. And now, when the birds' singing was suddenly replaced by cautious silence, he tensed up and became eared.

Branch crunched. The bushes trembled.

His fingers mechanically squeezed out a piece of fixture. He slumped, persistently watching his immediate surroundings, ready to fight back - the feeling of danger overtook him instantly and did not let go.

Intuition did not disappoint. Soon, two creatures came out of the creeks on the shore of an artificial pond. Their external similarity with people, upon closer examination, turned out to be very conditional. Through the holes in the shabby clothing, shabby, rusty metal could be seen. Basically, these were mechanical skeletons in rags.

Nevertheless, the feeling of danger of death became even sharper, more unambiguous, unbearable.

If they notice, they'll kill, thought avoided.

But it's too late. One of the mechanisms suddenly turned and raised his hand. A series of blows shot from his fingers. An electric shock instantly extinguished the victim's consciousness.

WHEN HE CAME TO HIS senses, the sun was already setting. The first instinctive impulse is to jump and run, stopped by shackles. The two creatures that had seduced him were fiddling with some kind of device, silently assembling it from the parts they had taken with them.

The power unit hummed intensely. Several cables snakemed along the ground among the grass. The device looked, to put it mildly, strange, unreliable and even frightening. Two transparent containers with delicate contours were installed on a high stand. From them hung flexible tubes swayed by light winds, which ended in injector nozzles.

The human resemblance clicked on the last latch and turned. The lenses glowed dullly in the depths of the eye cavities.

He understood: now a stand with an electronic block and a drip system will be attached to him.

For what? Pump out the blood?! — Panicky's thoughts swirled through like a whirlwind. The feeling of horror spilled with cold sweat.

"What do you want from me?! — he spoke out loud for the first time, or rather, shouted out some hoarse phrase.

The creatures did not react at all. One of the humanoid mechanisms leaned over the power source, the other went to it. Behind the stand, a cable dragged along the ground.

The horror suddenly became all-encompassing, unbridled. A sharp, unpleasant chill appeared in my chest. The muscles trembled from small nasty tremors.

The metal squirmed against the stone.

The human likeness slumped and stared at him with an indifferent, lifeless gaze, clearly trying to figure out how to more accurately insert the dropper nozzles into the veins.

It was the last drop of conscious fear. The world drifted away for a fraction of a second, then the perception returned elevated to the limit. As it was then in the swamps, a moment before the inevitable death, something happened, as if an invisible switch had clicked on the tired body.

The tremor subsided, and the sharply cleared consciousness was suddenly overwhelmed by rage.

The severity and ephemerality of the sensations could not be controlled. He didn't feel pain in his wrists or ankles; The pieces of wire that had kept him in a helpless state had exploded, leaving deep bleeding abrasions on his skin.

At these moments, the body lived separately from the mind, working only on reflexes - with a sweep, he knocked the creature to the ground, and his hands had already grabbed the tripod, immersing it with incredible force in a shabby chest shell. human likeness.

A crunch sounded and sparks flew by. The mechanism was pinned to the ground, and he, pulling the gun noticed from the equipment, mechanically released the safety device and pressed the trigger.

The shot hit deafeningly, then the shutter clicked idle. He aimed at the source of strength over which the second mechanical being was bending, and did not miss. The explosion blew out a gust of burning air, the brightest flash dazzled, but the enemy suffered much more - he was thrown a good ten meters further, hit a tree trunk and left lying lying in a broken, smoking pile of metal.

My ears rang.

Blood flowed down his wrist, staining the moss in sticky droplets.

A frightened bird flew out of the bushes. A gust of wind shook the leaves of the trees.

Suddenly and rapidly, the feelings of life returned. The cool evening air, carrying the scents of the forest, seemed intoxicating – and with it came the last turn of consciousness.

After an unexpected struggle that ripped his mind out of a state of mindless contemplation, he reached a new level of existence.

The surge of strength had dried up at this point. I had a sore throat. Taking a little breath, he went to the source that flows out of the cliff. Ice water made his muscles ache, but after washing off blood and dirt, he felt much better. By the way, abrasions healed surprisingly quickly. They didn't bleed anymore.

Returning to the place of the fight, he looked around and noticed on the lawn two plastic trunks smeared with swamp mud designed to be carried on his back. One was open and empty – it was clearly the same incomprehensible machine that the shabby mechanisms wanted to connect to their circulatory system for some reason.

Clinging, he opened the locks of the second container. Inside there were a lot of things: assorted clothes and shoes, some spare parts, dull tossing of cartridges of various calibers, removable batteries and several unfamiliar devices.

It is not clear why the mechanisms require clothing and shoes. But it's going to work for me, he trembled after swimming in the icy water. Sitting down on a boulder protruding from the ground, he chose army boots from a pile of belongings, then trousers and a jacket from a rather faded camouflage cloth.

Dressing took a lot of effort; I had to trust my muscle memory. She did not disappoint, and soon the coolness of the evening stopped tormenting me with chills.

Now the weapon...

He carefully studied the gun, then pulled out an empty magazine, found suitable ammunition and began to charge it. The duality of perception returned with a new sharpness. The weapon looked unfamiliar, but the fine motor skills of his fingers suggested that earlier he could disassemble such a device and assemble it with his eyes closed.

How did serfs get to the island?

Thoughts constantly jumped from one thing to another, seemed torn and inconsistent, but it was they who awakened a conscious interest in the surroundings, gradually forming a sense of being.

Only five cartridges of the required caliber were found. The sun descended under the horizon, quickly became dark, but a large moon peeked behind the clouds, filling the area with a cold glow.

The mud of the swamp on the boxes indicated that there was a path through the swamps.

I was hungry. He didn't want to sleep, and he decided to look for a way. It doesn't matter where it leads. In the seemingly unfamiliar world, any direction will do. First you need to get out of the island, to the many questions that are buzzing in your head, there is definitely no answer.

I decided to go easy. He wanted to put the gun in his jacket pocket, but this decision caused discomfort. Then he returned to the mechanism nailed to the ground and removed some equipment from it, including a convenient attachment to the weapon.

Now that's the order.

Serfs seem to have come from the west. You have to look for a way there.

HE DISCOVERED THE OLD road just a few hours later. The simple but durable engineering structure consisted of interconnected porous plastic ties. It was hard to spot him. Slightly submerged, covered with water and ducked, against the background of the swamp did not stand out in any way. I had to return to the shore, find a suitable tree and make a long pole out of it.

Now he could feel his way without risking falling into the swamp again.

So I went without a doubt, without thinking ahead. My legs were sliding. In places where the links lost the reliability of the connection, the road tilted dangerously. The swamp melted and bubbled around. Long-dead trees ascended into a strange, cruciferous open forest.

The moon shone brightly. A light breeze anointed the waves along the dark surface of the water. The cries of the night birds carried far away and sometimes sounded frightening. Among the mossy floating islands there were testimonies of the past: for example, he noticed some kind of aircraft fuselage sticking out of the water, judging by its size - transport. There was a temptation to get to it and look for something useful, but leaving the engineering path was dangerous.

By morning, he was completely exhausted. For swamps, the end is not visible. The waves of moss swayed in gentle waves, but soon he noticed a cluster of blackened partridges. The rhizome carried by the current tightly framed a small piece of land, allowing you to arrange a rest.

Despite my hunger, fatigue quickly did its thing, putting me to a deep sleep.

The day turned out to be cloudy, and at noon began to spray. It was dreary and cool, but he was awakened not by rain, but by noise.

Something moved through the swamp, making a chattering sound.

The muscles were numb from periods of prolonged immobility in an uncomfortable position. He turned to his side with difficulty and hid between the snags.

The sound approached and soon behind the changing streaks of the fog, he saw a large inflatable boat moving through the canal. Armed people sat there. One controlled it, while the others looked around tensely, keeping their weapons ready. It is not clear what troubles they were afraid of.

He was careful not to shout at strangers, but they would hardly have heard - the old, rather worn-out outboard motor was running loudly and tensely, and after a couple of minutes the boat had already disappeared behind the thickets of lawns that framed the channel. .

Sensing that he had rested enough, he headed west again, touching the ties of the road with the pole. Hunger has subsided. The walks warmed me. The droplets of rainwater running down my face wetted my dry lips.

He had no idea where the old road would lead.

IT WASN'T UNTIL THE evening of the next day, completely exhausted, that he reached the edge of the swamps.

The terrain took off sharply, among the rare coniferous forests old craters appeared everywhere and the remains of broken fortifications were visible. In the open air, a lot of burnt equipment perished.

Higher on the slope, about a hundred meters from the coastline, the air flowed gloomy, as if something was evaporating intensively there. The phenomenon seemed incomprehensible, unreasonable, but ubiquitous.

He didn't notice how to get around it. A strange haze spread everywhere, obscuring the outlines of the slopes and undergrowth. It was not crushed by the gusty evening breeze, damaging the foliage of the bushes.

The broken fortifications and burned equipment did not interest him at all. I wanted to get away from the disgusting swamps, find food and a safe place to sleep. While he was thinking, a flock of birds suddenly flew out of the confines of the haze.

So fumes are not dangerous? Having accidentally chosen the direction, he decided to take a risk. "I'm going to stick