The Before Short Story Series. Part 1 - Иван Перепелятник

‘This tragedy in our family happened a long time ago, Thomas. Today I’m feeling about it quite differently. It’s been about 25 years since his death. Working with Igor’s digital model for me means an amazing opportunity for the project. We are constantly refining his personality, based on my memories of how he used to behave too, how he talked, what he dreamed about, what was important to him. Everything that defined Igor as a person is now fundamentally important to be taken into account in his digital model, which, eventually, as we expect, will grow into something more important.’

‘And what this something more could be, Alexandra?’

‘We are working to ignite the fire of a new life. I would say so.’

‘I’m just short of words, friends!’ Thomas leaned back in his chair. ‘As the interviewer with some experience, of course, I shouldn’t have said that. I should always have the right and correct, precise words. But this is not the case. I’m more than amazed!’

Thomas continued:

‘Do you mean saying that you and Igor can communicate on any topic? And he responds, responds to you the way we are communicating with you now.’

‘Everything looks exactly like this if, for example, I connect to his program remotely.’

‘It’s amazing! But here is a question that also bothers me regarding this situation, Alexandra. Aren’t you breaking moral and ethical norms by recreating a digital copy of a person? He did not give you his permission to deal with his digital heritage this way, all the information and data that had been preserved about his life.’

‘This is another reason why my colleagues and I decided to develop the Interview software package based on my brother’s digital model. I have all the necessary civil rights, the legal basis for those actions with his digital heritage—you’ve used the exact term—that we carry out within the framework of the project. From the point of view of general moral and ethical norms, I do not see any conflict. I am glad to have the opportunity to communicate with Igor’s recreated model, and I believe that his mission is revealed in this project in particular.’

Before: The Red Button

A Meeting with Friends

‘Look guys, if we want our channel to take off, we need some breakthrough, relevant and resonant material’, Olga was talking. ‘Murzik of course is a pretty boy, and a hero—he saved a mouse from imprisonment in the basement at Tonya's granny’s—but I'm afraid it won't be enough to conquer YouTube, even here, at our place. Thirty-two people watched our last video about the repair of a bus stop near Meget, and I think, thirty were our friends, parents and relatives.’

‘Thus, we can conclude that Tonya’s Murzik attracts much more attention than our high-profile investigation about a broken bus stop glass on the Irkutsk-Angarsk public transport service and a heater failer at the bus stop’, Gleb agreed smiling. ‘So let's film our good old Murzik!’ Gleb roared with laughter.

‘You know what’, Tonya objected indignantly, ‘when November frosts come, it will be below minus 30, and if this stop is not put in order, it won’t be funny to anyone at all. People will freeze waiting for the bus. That's what matters! I’m sure our report is necessary—we are doing useful work for the community, by the way! So let us guys stop moaning here that we are so unhappy with the number of views. Wait for a month or two.’

‘Listen, you may console yourself as much as you wish, Tonya’, Olga retorted. ‘The point is that it doesn't change anything. Statistics: figures don't lie —the number of views is weakly low. No one really cares about this bus stop. We need to do something about it if we really want to make an impact.’

Three teenagers were sitting in a cafe next to the window, ignoring the visitors glancing at the young people, enthusiastically discussing in high voices something of their own. Tonya and Olga were sitting on one side of the table. On the sofa opposite, next to Gleb, warm jackets and backpacks comfortably placed themselves. Everything was white outside, snowflakes were covering the street with a veil. Cars on the road confidently, made their way forward letting pedestrians cross the road at the traffic lights. A touch of frost and the first snow brought locals and tourists together in a cozy, warm cafe in the city center. The waiters were taking orders from the visitors flowing in and casting stern glances at the table where the trio had positioned themselves, consuming two small bottles of drinks already over an hour.

Tonya, blowing air through a straw into a bottle of coke, opened the Irkutsk News app on her communicator. ‘Here's what people write’, and began reading out short annotations to articles in the app.

‘The Irkutsk Region Government has approved a federal program for the further development of a transport infrastructure in the region. By 2145, the energy supply trunks for a new transport system will reach far wider than just Irkutsk. All major regional centers, including Angarsk, Usolye-Sibirskoye, Sayansk, Tulun and a number of other cities will gradually become connected to the modern ecosystem of Russia and the entire continent, following the program of further integration into the new economy … The travel time from Moscow to Irkutsk will take no more than 6 hours on a high-speed shuttle…’

‘Or here's another one’, Tonya was scrolling through the news feed further, ‘look, this news has already been viewed by over 5,000 people. “The construction of the second stage of the large Baikal Tourist Center goes on. Every year the Irkutsk region attracts hundreds of thousands of tourists from all over the world. A new wellness complex, designed for 10,000 residents, will provide a five-star level of comfort for our guests…”

‘That’s not the right place to check,