The sun illuminated Arkan on that April morning, a city located near the Fracture Compound. The trees in the parks glowed, and the streets quickly filled with people.
The Ethers took off and landed with the same swiftness. The technical name was the Electromagnetic Gliding Apparatus. The Ethers generated an artificial electromagnetic field, allowing them to glide along the planet's natural gravitational field. Their energy sources were so powerful that an Ether could remain airborne for nearly a day without recharging. Although the Consolidated Nation had to create a special infrastructure, over time, almost every family owned at least one Ether.
The apparatus itself resembled a cabin that could accommodate up to five people, plus the family's luggage, with engines on the sides that generated the electromagnetic field, providing very smooth and comfortable control when operated manually. Although the Ether was made of composite metals, a large part consisted of specially constructed glass, allowing owners to enjoy the views while the Ether, piloted by autopilot, carried them through the clouds. There were also special versions of the Ether for ground use. They also generated an artificial electromagnetic field, but of lower power, allowing them to levitate only half a meter off the ground. Cars using wheels had long been retired, and some could still be seen in museums dedicated to the era of the old world.
Ioanna fastened her blouse and looked in the mirror. There, she saw a girl destined to receive an answer to a long-asked question. Today, fate had decided to give her that answer. She studied the girl's eyes in the mirror for a long time, trying to find answers to her questions. Ioanna squinted, attempting to discern something more in her gaze than just a reflection. Hidden within were fears and hopes. The eyes had never been just a mirror of a person's soul; they had always been a door. It was through this door that Ioanna yearned to enter. No one could say whether she succeeded because, at that moment, the phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Ioanna approached the desk, picked up a small bracelet, and slipped it onto her left wrist, feeling its cold surface against her skin. The girl on the other side of the mirror vanished.
"Yes, I'm listening," Ioanna said, touching the smooth surface of the bracelet, and a holographic control panel appeared above her wrist, connected to a portable contact device known as Pulse.
"Good morning, Ioanna," a familiar male voice came through on the other end.
"Good morning, Mr. Volkov."
"I just saw your resignation request. Why have you decided to leave us?" After the question, there was silence, but it soon ceased. "You are one of the best reporters on our channel... you've come so far; you have such potential. Why?"
"Mr. Volkov, I detailed the reason for my resignation in my statement."
"I know you have your reasons, Ioanna. Family, especially children, is one of the most important steps in life. I have two children myself, and I worked very hard to get permission. But..."
"Mr. Volkov, you know me. I've already made my decision."
"I respect your decision and am ready to sign your request, but I have a proposal that I'm sure will interest you. You can consider it a favor."
"What is it about?" Ioanna's voice changed.
"It concerns Maria."
"I've already congratulated her." Ioanna approached the window, watching as the bus left the nearest stop.
"Yesterday, she decided to celebrate her victory in the reporters' race for a seat in the Capitol and drank too much."
"And what do you want from me?" Ioanna took a green belt from the bed and wrapped it around her waist.
"Her rather delayed and incompetent decision landed her in the hospital with alcohol intoxication. It will take her a few days to recover. But everything starts today. And I ask you to go to the Capitol and report on the launch of the Fracture Machine in her place."
"I can't, Mr. Volkov," Ioanna said, clutching her bag. "You know that my brother is one of the Wanderers. He will leave this world in a week. I want to spend this week with him." A gesture on the bracelet projected the hologram of her manager onto the wall. The lights lit up, and his face looked at her from the wall.
"Ioanna, listen, I will sign your resignation, but I want you to go and broadcast, to show the world the moment the Archon orders the Machine to launch. You must be there."
"Why me? You can take anyone."
"But you deserve it," Volkov said, staring into the camera for several seconds. Behind him, a painting of cats hung on the wall. "I remember when you just graduated from university and came to us. You were young, and I saw in you what I have seen only a few times in my life. Potential. And fate has arranged that I call you and tell you this today, right now."
"I don't believe in fate." The girl picked up her bag from the dresser and began to put documents into it.
"Right now, resigning from here," disregarding her refusal, Volkov continued, "you are leaving as a reporter who has worked well and even excellently for nearly ten years. But if you conduct this broadcast, you will leave us as a legend. You will enter history. And then, if you decide to return — because children won't always be children — you can find a job anywhere, in any position. I understand your situation with your brother, but I'm sure he will understand you and your decision. He has his own path. You have yours. There's only one first time. And in a week, there will be the first launch that will enter history."
The girl turned to the wall, where Volkov still looked at her. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight that had already invaded his office. And a question arose. Right and wrong decisions do not exist; there is only choice and its consequences. On one side was John, who chose the risky path of the Wanderer; on the other was her own uncertain future and that of her family, which she couldn't ignore. John chose the life of a Wanderer, the end of which was quite obvious. Ioanna had no right to pressure him into making a decision. Given her brother's past, she understood well what he was thinking and what made him say, "YES." But Ioanna's future was unknown. Fate ironically created a sequence of events. By staying in this world, Ioanna had a more uncertain future than her brother, who was venturing into unknown worlds with predictable consequences. What to choose? What decision to make? Was her boss right?
"If you agree," Mr. Volkov continued, "as a token of gratitude, I will send you your salary right now and again right after the Fracture Machine is launched."
"I have enough money as it is," Ioanna replied, "and don't make me think of you as a dishonorable person."
"I'm not trying to buy your decision. I just want you to finally open up completely. This is your chance. There won't be another one. And I know you understand that." The face on the wall lowered its gaze, accepting Ioanna's decision. But hoping for a change in her choice, he continued, "Unfortunately, I have little time, so give me an answer right now. If yes, at 2 PM in Revel, the Council Hall, Hawk will be waiting for you until the Capitol. If no, I will sign your request right now. It's up to you, Ioanna. But remember, after the launch of the Fracture Machine, we will continue to live in this world."
Fate. What is fate? People of the old world believed it was a book that recorded all of a person's decisions even before his birth. All events would unfold exactly as the words inscribed on the pages of that book. "You cannot escape fate," people from a long-forgotten past used to say. But Ioanna never believed in the idea of life's predestination. A person makes their own decisions, chooses, and bears the responsibility for them. And now she stood before a choice — the scales of fate tilted.
"Fine." Ioanna didn't even notice when she gave her answer. A strange lump in her chest pushed her toward that response. Did the Gods of the old world really exist, and had she now become a subject of their cruel games inscribed in the fates of people? Knowing the history of the old and ancient worlds, Ioanna understood that if mythical deities intervened in people's lives, there was no point in waiting for grace. In the games of the Gods, as in the games of fate, victory was not provided.
"Excellent!" exclaimed Mr. Volkov. "Believe me, you are now one of those who are making history. And I'm extremely glad it's you."
"Goodbye, Mr. Volkov."
"See you, Ioanna." And the man disappeared, the lights on the wall went out.
Ioanna stood in the middle of the room, realizing what had just happened. Should she rejoice that her name would become part of history and that she was ending her career as a reporter at the peak of fame? Anyone else would be overjoyed, bathing in streams of euphoria. But not her. Her heart was breaking into pieces. There's nothing worse than feeling guilty for your conscious choice.
She glanced at the clock, which read 9:30 AM. She had half an hour to get to the train station heading to Revel. Nearby, her brother's implant check was underway. She had no chance to call him and share this news. There was no time even to gather her things. Adjusting the bag on her shoulder, she headed for the door.
Passing by the mirror, Ioanna stopped for a moment and looked into it again. She gazed into her own eyes and saw that the gates to her soul were closed. And she left the apartment. She dreamed of becoming another person, living a completely different life — a life free from such complex choices. But that was not her fate.
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