Passing through the departments here was simplified. Admission areas were pre-inscribed on a badge that was visually invisible. Instead of a pupil scan, walking up to the door was sufficient. If access was granted, the door became matte, no longer reflective; if you got a little closer, it opened.

Ruthra contacted Isa.

– What department does Dr. Rousey work in?

– She is listed under the same letterhead as Academician Alikhanov.

– What's that?

– The letter sos; is the letter used to mark persons under special control, restricted freedom of contact and movement.

– Where do I find her?

– Bimolecular Transgeniology Unit.

– Can you connect to this station's computer?

– Uh, no.

– How do you know about who and where she is?

– I was provided with information, because I work for the board, and I was loaded with information from everyone who is connected to me. Everything they see, hear, feel, think.

– Even like that?

– You and your kind are the perfect spies. Everything you see, hear, feel, think, can be transmitted over a distance, without instruments. No external instruments. Everything you need is already inside you. The brain is the perfect receiver and transmitter. You only need to be able to amplify it, chip and decode the signals.

– Okay, I'm getting tired.

Ruthra found one of the intersections, lit up the schematic with his badge, found the biomolecular transgeniology unit on it, contacted the badge with his line, and went where the laser led. He remembered that the attendant had covered his eyes with a hooded mask. Ruthra did the same, visibility changed. Through the mask everything looked in matte color, his eyes didn't hurt from the constant wandering of the image, especially when there were several people moving through the corridors.

Soon he arrived at the place. The door wouldn't open, there was no clearance.

– What to do? – He asked Isa.

– Call her," she suggested or recommended.

– How?

– Wait, they're having lunch soon, someone will come out, tell them to call. It's normal here.

Rutra did so, and soon a woman, in her early thirties, of oriental type, came out.

– I'm here to see you. May I speak to you? – Ruthra addressed her.

– Are you from Russia? – she asked with hope in her voice.

– Yes," Ruthra answered, looking at her wonderingly. – Why, can you tell? Or did you recognize it in some other way?

– No. I knew a trusted specialist was coming, a doctor from Russia studying systems that transmit information signals in unconventional ways. Let's go to the cafeteria, have lunch, and we can talk.

– Were you expecting me?

– Yeah. Come with me.

She led him down the corridors, then led him into the compartment. What Rutru saw there was another mind-blowing experience. He stopped, his brain working like a dynamo, trying to make sense of what was happening. Alikhanov's rig stood in the center of the lab. Ruzi stopped too, waiting for Rutru and perplexed, studying his reaction. He looked at the doctor and said, to explain something to himself, and to check her for "his – alien":

– The proof of the Poincaré hypothesis and Perelman's "quirks" have a long-range calculation in order to prove the genius fantasist right, which contradicts the mathematics of the universe and comes from the human desire to believe in the illogical, the miracle, which leads humanity from one disappointment to another, that is, to the catastrophe that faith itself describes, because there is no other, which in the end, if not changed, will lead to the real catastrophe of humanity.

– What? What do you mean? – Ruzi asked, looking at Ruthra questioningly, smiling as if she had heard something she didn't dare to say.

– So much for the savior being digital this time.

– That's great. Anyone who's into this stuff will understand. Everyone has their hobby. Poincaré's hypotheses and Perelman's "quirks" have a long-range calculation? Hmm. How to say. Although… these proofs are only understood by a very narrow circle. That is, even if they are wrong – no one will know! Einstein is a fantasist. It's the same with his proofs. He was kicked out of school because of his poor math skills, but he had a great imagination. He tried to explain the mystery of the universe by voicing the work of other scientists as his own, but it contradicts (his theory) Newton's physics. The one on which all physics is based. The illogical miracle is the whole of religion. A miracle is always unexplainable, therefore not logical. And religion, while promising to save man and the world, keeps predicting the apocalypse. So it is not logical, but people consider it God's grace, because they need "spiritual food". Do you believe in God?

– Purely scientific," Ruthra said, sighing.

And he thought to himself, looking at the installation, "That's what it is."

Ruzi understood Rutra's surprise.

– It's a copy. My father worked with an academic," she explained. – After they were exposed, my father managed to move to America. In the '90s, Russia was a mess. His friends, microbiologists, were mysteriously murdered, and everything was disguised as a domestic or accidental incident. When Dad realized that someone very powerful was behind it, a super-secret organization, that no one cared about these deaths, even though they were the direct responsibility of the FSB, he decided to run away.

– So why were they killed if they were so needed?

– You don't know about the Alikhanov program of doppelgangers and copying the non-physical content of the brain.

Rutra could barely keep from showing surprise, she also "finished" Rutra by saying:

– They themselves created the monster that ate them.

A shiver ran through Ruthra's body. She continued to surprise him, as if Rutra were her good friend and more than that, her accomplice.

– I brought you here because the rig is jamming all the signals. I'm working here, trying to recreate the rig from the blueprints my dad memorized.

– What about him? – Ruthra asked, thinking at that moment that Isa was involved, or else it was a provocation, only with a ghostly purpose, though the "scan" of Ruzi's pupils showed no lie.

– Op died," Rousey replied sadly.

– What, too?

– No, that's what I call it, he had a heart attack, he was driven to it by the system. I was tricked into coming here and they won't let me out. I can see my family. There is everything here – cinema, cafes, theater, stadium and much more. But I can't go outside the perimeter until I've done all the installation.

– Strange, why not a cooperative arrangement?

– Which one? Alikhanov refused to finish, and if he did anything, it was with deceit and cunning. They even killed his wife, so he only pretended to cooperate.

Ruthra tried to contact Isa, she didn't answer. Could this really be an isolation room?

– How did you get here, why do you trust me?

– You're from Russia, and I was told you were working with Alikhanov. Besides, I don't care anymore, I'm in prison, I can only escape at the risk of my life. I didn't want to become a military man, although since childhood I was constantly with my father in secret laboratories. At that time I didn't understand why they let me in. I was a journalism major. Let's go to the mess hall and I'll tell you my story and what's going on here. If I open my eyes wide, it means we can't talk about it. We'll talk openly when we get back here.

They got out and walked in a different direction, soon reaching the dining room, which looked like a fancy restaurant – with fountains, a waterfall, and wildlife elements, including animals and birds.

– When I lived in the Soviet Union, I, probably like everyone else, was alarmed to hear and read information about the US military bases, with which they literally filled the whole world.