Alex Gore - The Cube

Norman just raised his eyebrows and looked at the thing, trying to measure it mentally.

“There is more…” Hans had embraced the Cube, examining closely its surface. He was trying to lift it from the floor, but obviously its weight was a challenge for his fine arms of a scientist. “Look here…”

The two sergeants pushed the Cube on one side. Everybody approached to see what was written on the bottom side.

5=117

As soon as they entered the closed perimeter of the base, the Major announced thirty minutes leisure time and everyone went to his room.

Ivanov split from the main group and stealthily moved behind the big building next to the warehouses. The guard in front was lighting a cigarette when his replacement approached him. They exchanged a few words and each went his way.

It seemed he had luck tonight to pick the right moment. He almost crawled to the entrance and went in. Once inside, he looked around. For an experienced military person like he was, it was not difficult to spot the explosives. He had been dealing with Americans for quite a long time now and he was very well acquainted with their war equipment. He could count the sticks of plastic explosive, there were enough to blow up the whole place. Together with the goddamn submarine. His task was not to discover the secrets of nature, but to protect Russian secret military technologies and keep them away from the Americans. They were smiling at each other and were officially polite, yet he knew that on the battlefield there were no such things like mercy or friendship. His orders were to find out what he could and in no way allow the ship to be controlled by anybody else. He did not like Norman, this sleek and pedantic American. He resented Hans too, since he disliked Germans in general. They had given them a lot of trouble during World War Two. He knew all about this time from his father. Germans were not to be trusted. And this Sergey, a naïve scientist with his stupid physical inadequacies. Why was he burdened with him, he told them he could do it all by himself.

Ivanov took out from under his coat a big bag and started putting in it C4 plastic explosive, that he found in a crate. After the bag was full, he started back for his room.

He was walking fast, with wide strides. The large bag did not seem to bother him. At the same time he was scanning his surroundings. He looked up towards the guard in the watchtower, but he was too high up and was too busy to watch the outer perimeter of the base to notice him. There was nobody else around, they were all in the conference room because of those dumb figures on the bottom of the Cube. There was light behind the windows and dim shadows were seen. He noticed Norman’s tall slim silhouette. He was going to put away the explosives and go see what was going on.

“How can we know who wrote this thing? It might be just a random scrawl. While they were sailing, somebody got bored and decided to write nonsense just to make fun of us”, Sergey was contemplating.

“What could it mean? I guess it’s some bullshit”, Michael was thinking aloud.

Marcela could not see any logic either.

“No way 5 could equal 117, don’t you think? It doesn’t make any sense.”

After the thirty minutes, allowed by the Major, passed, they were all in the conference room. They needed rest, but did not have any time for it, besides the questions without answers were flooding their minds.

They were practically lying on their chairs with exhaustion. The coffee in their cups had the pleasant flavor of their ordinary life far from here, reminding them familiar everyday moments amidst this surrealistic madness.

Marcela was sipping with pleasure the black liquid. The memory of what she had seen scared her deeply. She was used to face real problems and solve them with her typical martial spirit, but now she felt there was something unknown and out worldly, not subjected to human laws. Was it some secret Russian weapon or super evil from another place, which had killed people, men from her world, and in an unusual way, too. One thing she was sure of, whatever happened,

it was bad.

This was an unknown evil and it made her blood freeze in the veins.

The Major started the overview.

“What we know so far is that the entire crew has disappeared without a trace. We also found an object for which we scarcely have an explanation.”

“The inscription is not drawn or engraved on the surface of the object”, Hans interfered. “It is rather coming from inside the Cube, as if reflecting some inner programmed light. I assume it might change…”

“I suppose it could be a serial number or something of the kind”, Alan offered.

“We are waiting for the laboratory analysis of the surface of this thing, but with reference to its chemical composition I don’t believe we will have any accurate results” Sergey spoke.

“Do you mean we won’t be able to define what it is made of?” Marcela exclaimed with disappointment.

“I am afraid that the smears we took with diamond droppers won’t show anything. This object won’t allow us to define its chemical composition.” Sergey seemed absolutely sure of his words. “Its surface is perfectly smooth and resistant to outer influences. I, for one, tried to scratch it with my key, but no traces were left. Absolutely nothing. Upon impact it feels both awfully hard and indestructible and soft and elastic at the same time, so it absorbs your force and does not allow being scratched. Imagine, you have a noisy neighbor who abuses you with allnight parties. You want to scratch his shiny car, parked in front of your building with the old key for your garage door. You pass one night and unnoticed by anyone leave a long fresh streak along the whole length of the black sports BMW. The very sound gives you pleasure of the sweet payback. The bad kid inside your head is exhilarated. On the next day you are overjoyed to see him from you window seething and swearing in his helplessness, having no idea at all who did this. But this thing here, no matter how strongly you try to enforce metal on it by piercing or hammering, nothing happens! The ultimate material of all time! The engineer’s and alchemist’s dream come true!”

Ivanov gave him a stern look but said nothing, just his forehead wrinkled even more.

“That would be super nice, Sergey, but now we have a task: to understand what the fuck 5=117 means”, Norman interrupted.

“There’s more”, the young Russian said. “I just looked over the data of microscopic measurements. The Cube is 6.66 feet wide which is exactly 2.029968 meters, all of its sides being equal with an accuracy of… err… I don’t know how to say it…”

“Which symbol after zero, please, Sergey?”, Alan asked, who cannot wait to hear.

“Well, as you know, we measured the object with a laser and then introduced the data to be processed. The computer did not find any difference at all between the different sides. I mean, none! Even in the millionth figure after the decimal point there was no deviation! Just zeros till the end of the fucking screen, the entire scale. This seems to be ‘the ideal cube’. I don’t know what to say, but at the moment there isn’t for sure any such technology existing on the planet, and I strongly doubt that we will be able to produce anything so ideal in the next thousand years.”

Everybody started talking simultaneously, nobody listening to the others. They were overexcited and noisy, reason gave way to emotions for the moment. A curtain of rumbling uproar fell in the small room.

Only Hans kept quiet and there was a slight smile in the corner of his lips.

“Everybody, please, be quiet! Hans?” Norman had learned to detect this expression by now and urged him to talk.