LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter First

      Continent of Vinland, 2073

      The air literally vibrated with tension. The planes entered a dive, somersaulted, converged, forming various figures, and scattered again, like disturbed birds. Laser cannons fired, shooting at the meteorite, the sky was ablaze with reflections of crimson and bright blue, as if huge buckets of fluorescent paints had been splashed out there.

      The stands went wild. People either froze in tension, not taking their eyes off the silhouettes of steel birds shining in the sun, or burst into cries of jubilation. Sometimes a wave of disappointment would roll through the crowd. The adrenaline was off the charts, because everyone felt involved in what was happening and everyone knew that the stakes were high.

      The most popular show, Apollo’s Arrow, was in full swing.

      The competing teams were located opposite each other in special glass capsules. Each had a captain and five pilots. Two teams fought for the right to make it to the finals. Despite the fact that players controlled three-dimensional models of the aircraft from specially equipped transparent capsules, the sensations were close to real. A state-of-the-art virtual reality helmet created a flight simulation, and sensors from the capsules transmitted the physical data of the players to large screens, which changed depending on the load.

      In each round, a virtual meteorite fell from space to a certain point, and the team’s planes, following the commander, had to rush to that square on the Vinland map and shoot down a celestial body in the upper atmosphere. The game went until three wins. If at the appointed time no one managed to shoot down the meteorite and it fell, then neither team received points, and two were played out at once in the next round. If the players did not hit the target the third time, both teams left the competition until the next season.

      Since each team, having reached the point of impact, sought to be the first to shoot down the target, the planes of the opposing sides entered into fierce firefights, and not all pilots managed to reach the target. Therefore, to win the competition, quick reactions and well-coordinated team play were required.

      In this show, teams not only competed with each other, but also practiced skills in dealing with dangers that could threaten the Continent at any moment. The players suffered from high blood pressure, and it happened that some of them lost consciousness during the game. The show was widely popular, despite the fact that it was already in its fourth year. People from all over Vinland gathered with their families in front of the screen to cheer for their favorite team and admire the colorful competition, replete with special effects.

      The Taffer family was no exception. Mother, Barbara, baked an apple pie. She and her son ate it at the tea table and watched the show on the large screen installed in the living room. The family cheered for Captain Fleming’s team: it was one of the oldest, but despite this, it still beat the younger participants.

      – Dodge, dodge! – Chris cried, holding a piece of pie in his hands. The young man always watched the competitions emotionally, and this game was no exception. – He was hit! Now there are three left on each team. Ours must win! Come in from behind! Well done! He was left alone, now he needs to manage to shoot down the meteorite. Well done, well done! We got another point! Score 2:1! Fleming leads!

      Chris himself was involved in piloting in a student club. The young man was even predicted to have a brilliant future, but Chris was not sure that he wanted to connect his fate with aviation. Yes, he liked to lift the car into the air and, overcoming overloads, rise higher and higher, like the legendary Icarus, trying to fly to the sun. Moreover, unlike Icarus, who was carried by wings molded from wax, Chris had at his disposal powerful modern technology that could go beyond the atmosphere. He had the highest level of access, providing small but pleasant privileges. Chris liked to feel freedom and extraordinary lightness, liked the smooth elasticity of the trigger and the euphoria that engulfed the body at the moment when the training target scattered into billions of splashes. And yet what kind of pilot is he? In order to become a real pilot, Chris believed, you need a special adventurous personality, like those guys from Apollo’s Arrow. Chris Taffer was too down-to-earth, an ordinary young man, and therefore believed that the greatest benefit could come from studying the history of past civilizations. In addition, the euphoria from successfully passing exams is no less, and now it is more important for the Continent to analyze the past in order to build an ideal model of the future on this basis. No, heaven is not for him.

      Chris was completely ordinary in appearance – of average height, not very athletic, but rather lean by nature, with dark hair and clearly defined cheekbones. Perhaps the only notable detail of his appearance was a crescent-shaped scar on the left side of his chin – a consequence of an injury received during one of his training flights.

      No, Chris Taffer was in no way fit to play the hero.

      And yet, the heart involuntarily froze at the sight of the next somersault on the screen, and the hand clenched, as if actuating an invisible control lever.

      – Don’t lose speed! What are you doing?! Come on! Let’s! – Chris whispered, without taking his eyes off the plane as it turned. Watching what was happening, he felt as if he was with the team, and victory depended on his skill and speed of reaction.

      Barbara was more reserved, but just like her son, she was happy with the team’s success.

      After the point was played, the players were given a ten-minute break. Technicians used this time to check the instruments and accuracy of each pilot’s shots. The channels returned to the current topic of the election and played videos of the two candidates, and then once again announced a special appearance after the show by the Supreme Ruler of Vinland, Demian Roskhald.

      – I hope we will be able to watch the game to the end and listen to the speech of the head of the Continent. Last week, the rebels tried to interfere with the broadcast at the most interesting place. They say they were preparing an uprising, you heard about it on the news.

      Without taking his eyes off the screen, Chris said:

      “Mom, Mr. Graves doubts this is the work of the rebels.”

      “Your professor constantly doubts everything.” I don’t like him. You shouldn’t have started studying history at all. You are the best in this student flying club of yours. You could go into aviation and now fight for one of the teams, you could become the star of the show “Apollo’s Arrow”, and I would watch and be proud of you!

      – Mom, I’ve been training at the club for six years. During this time, as you know very well, I learned to fly many aircraft, received awards for aerobatic maneuvers both in deserted areas and in urban environments, but understand, this is not my thing.

      – Why? What could be better?

      – It’s impossible to explain. You yourself work in the university library precisely because you like it.

      “I love books, and you seem to be all like me,” Barbara looked at her son tenderly.

      – By the way, even if it weren’t for history, I still would not have become an aviator, but would certainly have gone to the remote areas of Vinland to eliminate the consequences of the disaster. Hundreds of volunteers went there to improve the environment on the Continent. Everyone there is friendly, they work hard, and in the evenings they gather, sing songs with guitars and discuss the bright future of Vinland,’ Chris noted, taking advantage of the moment of calm that came in the game. ‘I watch a lot of reports: these people have a hard time, but they are doing useful work. At the same time, one-story houses

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