Alex Gore - The Cube

“Please, Major, we will stick together in the next few days, let’s drop the formal address.” Then she turned to Alan and Hans. “And let’s not quarrel over nonsense.”

“I’ll be glad to be informal, March”, Michael winked at her and took a drag from his cigarette. “Can I call you March?”

“If I can call you Mike”, she replied and they both laughed.

Alan sipped his coffee.

“Mike, how can you inhale this shit. It smells awful.”

“I can see you’ll get along just fine”, Norman said. “Anyway, it’s time to go now.”

“Let me have just a couple of drags more, Major”, said Michael and greedily sucked from his cigarette. “Just give me ten secs and I’m coming”.

“I agree with Alan, smoking is bad for you. Come on, the rest of you, we are off. You are in this truck. Myself, the smoker and the Colonel will ride in the first one.”

Thus, after the instructions of the Major, he himself, Michael, Ivanov and the young short baby-faced lieutenant climbed in the first SUV. The latter hardly said a word, but acted with the knack and efficiency of an experienced military person. His pretty head was hardly seen above the wheel, while he was driving – at a high speed but elegantly without straining the passengers.

Hans, Sergey and Marcela sat in the second truck with Alan in the driver’s seat.

The large leather seats were comfortable and the pleasant coolness of the air condition almost erased the memory of the hard bunks and the stuffed air at the base.

At first everyone was silent, deep in thoughts about home and family, mixed with curiosity and anxiety about the unknown that awaited them.

“So, Michael, not that it is my business, but since you’ve been selected, maybe you would show us why, eh?” Norman was not scoffing at the young man, but was rather asking in a fatherly manner.

“Well, I had just started at the State University with a major in Geography, when in summer I heard by accident about a practical course in archaeology. I joined it, the professor liked me and helped me for my history exam. I got an A and was admitted in Harvard. I had never even dreamed of studying there. You know, they mostly admit rich kids and ambitious crammers there, I can’t be a match for them… Anyway, partying is superb and the chicks are cool”, Michael laughed. He had a broad and sincere smile, infectious for the people around him.

“Still, you were the first option.”

“Come on, no way!”

“Well, according to that new program, a team like yours is formed with three options for each position. You gained the lead with great advance compared to the second person…”

“It figures then I’m some kind of genius, is that it, Sir?” Michael could not take all this very seriously yet.

“Let’s just say you are several levels ahead not only of your fellow students but also of 99 per cent of your professors…”

“You say I’m smarter than the professors in Harvard?” The young man felt the surge of satisfaction but he still found it hard to believe.

“Here, look”, Norman said, took out several sheets of paper from a file in his briefcase and handed them to him.

Michael’s eyes quickly scanned the pages from top to bottom.

Michael Stevens: 3 rdyear student, major History, Harvard University; age 22

Total score: 95.9%

- major (History): 97.9%

- physicochemical parameters (by Wilhelm): 95.3%

- coefficient API (absorbing primary information): 96.7%

- coefficient non-standard thinking (creating of ideas and images in complex systems of events): 94.2%

Strong aspects: Possesses general knowledge in different fields of science and excellent capacity to interpret them. Extracts the maximum of a minimum amount of data. Combinative and creative thinking with great potential for improvisation. Strongly developed imagination and good in team work. Keen interest towards engineering sciences and extraordinary practical technical skills. Social type, inviting trust and friendship.

Weak aspects: Unhealthy life-style. Inclined to excessive use of alcohol and narcotic stimulants. Prone to accidental sex contacts. Level of discipline: low.

“Ha-ha!”, Michael laughed aloud. “I don’t know about the first part, but they did a good job on me about the ‘weak aspects. My discipline is particularly poor… ha-ha…”

“Actually, the program is Russian, we just approved their choice. It has started before Perestroika, but was stopped eventually. When Putin came to power it was restarted. You have to admit that it employs an entirely innovative approach for evaluation and choice of a team for reaction in ‘unusual situation’ like that.” Norman smiled at him and took back the sheets, putting them in the black briefcase next to his feet.

“Yes, we are all cool guys here and the chick is superb. Only this German guy seems to have a stick in the ass, but at least he keeps quiet,” Michael lapsed to more relaxed language. “That whole business seems to be a little overstrained. How can a submarine, moreover a future model, sink here, in the desert? Anyway, it’s my first visit to the desert and I enjoy it… Tell me, Norman, do you really believe there are aliens in this submarine?”

“I don’t know, Mike, but we declared ‘Fourth A’ emergency level, since we supposed the inscription is of an alien origin, moreover the results of the carbon analysis are highly disturbing.”

“Well, maybe they are, but I guess this is too far-fetched, there must be some simpler explanation… don’t you think? Anyway, some of the things written about me might be true… like I always pass my exams without studying too much.”

“Still you don’t get scholarship for good grades, do you?”

Norman noted tersely.

“Only because the universities are not what they used to be… and what they must be”, Michael replied contemplating. “What do you mean?”

“He means that sometimes the army is preferable to the lie, called ‘higher education’”, the lieutenant spoke suddenly. Ivanov was still silent at the front passenger’s seat. “Look the first university was founded in Bologna in 1088 if we don’t count the culture centers of the ancient Greeks or the famous Magnaour School in Constantinople.”

“Were alcohol and marijuana legal there, Michael?” Norman attempted for a joke.

“In those real cradles of knowledge back then”, Michael went on, ignoring the question, “professors and students were searching together for the truth and the path, leading to it. Even though, from our contemporary point of view, some naive, romantic and even hilarious theories were taught…

“Yes, for instance that the Earth was flat and stood on four whales or turtles… what was it?” Norman interrupted.

“Or that earthquakes were caused by enormous snakes and spiders, hiding underground”, Ivanov spoke for the first time. “It’s not important how inadequate the theses from a thousand years ago are, compared to the modern ones… Don’t forget that back then the great minds also imagined they knew everything. It’s totally realistic and very probable that after one thousand years they say the same about us and our scientific beliefs and doctrines.” Michael’s voice was filling the interior of the truck and the other passengers listened attentively. “The problem of today’s universities is that they don’t seek for the truth but serve corporative interests and encourage dumb repetition of obsolete and impractical theories. Look at medicine, for instance… If we make an exception for Anatomy, which is a deeply conservative discipline, all the sets of methods, studied at the universities are already obsolete before the students graduate. I have friends at the medical faculty who say that after graduation they need to pass specializations all the time and they use only five per cent of what they learned during the long terms at the university.”