Trap of Desires

-by Iskra Dolina

–Reading Time – 20 min Approx

“Some more cognac?” a pretty flight attendant in bright red by Aeroflot stood nearby; he nodded silently.

Infinite freedom was what Anton saw through the porthole.

Realized how tense he was.

Reclined his seat. Took off the sneakers. Took a sip from the glass.

“Be always at your best,” the thought came to his mind.

Thought of his mom for some reason.

So, the meeting is tomorrow morning. I have to focus, look through the materials provided.

My expert opinion will be to a high standard.

Anton mused.

MEMS technology. ‘Smart dust.’

Can be used both in medicine and…

Somewhere inside him, he felt very anxious.

“I’ll explain all the pros and cons in great detail,” he repeated once again the justification to himself.

London smells of roses, a vintage leather jacket, and a wet lawn.

“The city only pretends to be old…,” Anton thought. “Big changes in such a short time.” Looking out the cab window, he had the same feeling inside himself.

The desire for changes. A strange feeling. As if his own world became too tight for him.

The good old and very familiar hotel.

In the lobby, the soft whisper of a double bass coming from the bar was heard.

The comforting warmth of the large fireplace.

The desk clerk fulfilled all his wishes.

The clothes for tomorrow, the dinner in the room. The full concentration on tomorrow’s meeting.

In the morning, at 8:30, he drove up to the headquarters of the NewTecSoft company that was developing the advanced technology.

“Mr. Yermakov, good morning, we’re waiting for you,” the assistant to the director welcomed him and ushered into the office.

The head of the Development Center, Jack Bilsword, got up from the table to meet him.

“We aren’t going to take up much of your time,” he said after the greeting.

Jack made a dramatic pause. Looked at him.

“We only need your signature.”

Anton didn’t get it.

“We’ll send the check to you by post,” Jack ignored Anton’s surprised look, “see you at the dinner at 6:00 p.m.”

“And my opinion… Is it necessary?”

“We only need your signature,” he repeated, saying the words distinctly. “Thank you. We pay for your name. All the rest isn’t required.”

Everything went dark before Anton’s eyes.

He came to in a company car at the entrance to the hotel. Said goodbye to the driver, ‘put on’ a smile and got out of the car.

In the room, without taking off his clothes, he crashed into the bed.

And this means ‘being at my best?’

30 years of very hard work…

The CEO of a large IT company, the cooperation with government agencies for the digital development of the country…

The visiting lecturer at Berkeley College, the international expert…

“We only need your signature.”

In reality… zilch! Expert on dust.

“Get your money. For not interfering with our business.”

What was all this for? What the hell am I doing here?

He thought about his friends. How ambitious they were!

Wanted to change the world.

And what came out of it — military drones? He remembered the meaning of the word “drone” — the one that lives on the labors of others.

Parasites…

And Dimka and Mark?

Face recognition algorithms…

Thank goodness, the parents don’t know much about it.

If they knew that all this was just ‘a useless buzzing of a drone’…

All against people.

Let’s take Stan; we used to laugh at him. An altruist. He always argued about whether his work would make the world a better place. He’s always been a little weird.

But reliable.

“I realize this only now,” the thought came to his mind.

He was parched…

He didn’t notice when it got dark outside. Looked at the cellphone — plenty of missed calls. Forgot about the excursion and the dinner.

A strange feeling. No interest in anything. And a void inside.

In the darkness, he saw a flashing light on the hotel phone.

“I’m not going to attend any dinner, no more formal arrangements,” he thought. Pressed the button to listen to the answering machine messages.

“Hi Anton, it’s Stan. Found out you were in London, couldn’t reach you on the cellphone. I’ll come to your hotel at six in the evening, let’s meet at the bar. Come down and have a beer with me. See you soon, buddy. Yahoo!”

Stan. This is exactly what’s needed now. The only thing.

He went down to the bar.

The jazz was right. The light was good.

Anton ordered porter. For himself and Stan. Thick, dark. Like that of their student days.

The double bass measured its very exact beat, and the last, might-have-been note was taken up
by another instrument.

They passed the solo to each other in turns, but the theme was one and the same…

The heart began to languish.

“We only need your signature… All the rest isn’t required,” he called to mind.

“Priveeet!!!” Stan greeted him funnily in Russian. They hugged one another.

As if there weren’t all those years, and they’re still young scientists, the Berkeley graduates.

The kind growl of the saxophone was heard from the stage.

Stan, as if they parted only yesterday, immediately opened his laptop and, while it was loading, talked excitedly about a technological breakthrough.

Anton’s gaze fell on the glowing computer screen.

There was a strange quote, and he no longer listened to Stan, who spoke with enthusiasm about the prospects…

Baal Ha-Sulam

Extract from the article “The Peace”:

‘All is in deposit, and a fortress spreads over all of life. The store is open, and the shopkeeper sells by deferred payment; the book is open, and the hand writes. And all who wish to borrow may come and borrow, and the collectors return regularly, day-by-day, and collect from a person knowingly and unknowingly. And they have what to rely on, and the judgment is true, and all is ready for the feast.’

The percussion brushes made an alarming rustle.

Anton had the feeling that something infinite was drawing near.

And Stan went on telling: “…just imagine we use artificial intelligence to search for new antibiotics; the program itself analyzes the molecular structure of compounds and selects the right components. It’s a breakthrough because bacteria mutate and become resistant….”

On the stage, the double bass was sounding off about ‘the most important thing’ with care and in confidence. The saxophone supported it.

“Friend, where’re you?” Stan asked Anton.

“What does it mean?” Anton pointed at the screen.

The expression of Stan’s face immediately changed. He looked Anton straight in the eye.

“Want to talk about it? It’s about our life. The meaning of it.”

Anton realized that this was the only thing he wanted to talk about at the moment.

“What store is it about?”

“The store is our world. And everything in it has a purpose. Because there is,” Stan smiled, “a shopkeeper.”

Anton looked at him attentively. Waited for continuation.

“Well, look, your mother’s pregnancy was how long? I hope nine months,” Stan smiled again. “By the age of one year, you’ve probably started walking, got your baby teeth at four months and permanent ones when you were five years old… do you want me to continue? At fourteen, you’ve started looking at girls. You know it’s the law. You think everything stopped at girls?”

They were silent for a while.

“What is this hand that writes?”

“You see, it’s a trap. Come in and take… a pitfall. Everything has a purpose. And for what we take, we have to pay. Our life has its purpose, and we must realize it.”

“What purpose?”

“To become a human being.”

“Explain.”

“A human being is the one who does no harm to the world. But develops and fits it. Is responsible for ‘our common store.’

“What if I don’t want to be responsible?”

“You don’t want to?” Stan smiled genially and carried on jokingly in a paternal tone, “never mind — they’ll force you…” he paused, “illnesses of all kinds can happen, God forbid, you may lose your job, hurricanes will begin, epidemics.”

They fell silent.

Anton thought of ‘drones.’

The music abated. The saxophonist put aside the instrument. The lights went out.

A thin ray lit the figure of a man.

The dancer began to do precise, sliding taps with the shoe toe.

The percussion instruments accompanied softly. The rhythm sped up gradually.

Anton looked at the performer who stood in the beam of light.

Took a napkin. Asked the waiter for a pen, reflected for a short while and began to draw.

Here, I’m drawing Maslow’s pyramid very schematically. Everyone knows that. Where’s the store in it?”

Anton looked attentively at Stan.

The tap was very clear. The soloist on the stage transmitted his heartbeat to the audience.

Tap-tap, tap-tap…

Stan saw the crisis his friend was going through at that very moment.

Tap-tap…

Artificial fog enveloped the stage.

“Look,” Stan started drawing on the back of the napkin.

“This is, let’s say, a point where everything starts… Big Bang. Beginning of the Creation. Call it whatever you want.” Stan drew it at the top closer to the right side of the napkin. “Here’s this point.
It already contains everything. All that will happen and how. You know it’s like a computer program. ‘…the book is open, and the hand writes. And all who wish to borrow may come and borrow.’ Our Earth starts to form with everything needed for Anton to be born, to get an education… and to accomplish what is expected of him. I’m kidding, but, in principle, that’s the way it is.”

The performer on the stage changed the rhythm. Making it more complex every time.

As if doing his best to be understood…

The fingers, the eyes, the breath were involved… tried his utmost to convey the theme.

Stan drew a line downwards from the point and then — a horizontal line:

“Here’s all our evolution. The preparation … Stones, plants, animals, and us…” he looked at Anton.  “The process is unpleasant. But natural… Here is your Maslow’s pyramid,” he put an X mark closer to the end of the line. “And then, along the straight line, we come to a new point… The birth of a human being.” he drew a small figure.

“The human. Only now?”

“The human appears in you once you understand that you’re part of the system. And that you want to know how you can add to the overall system, the program, to make it… work well.”

“And until that?”

“Until that, we’re like animals! We’re guided by our instincts.”

Stan was trying to find the right words.

“In short, the human being is in us when we want to do something for other people. And not just get something from them.”

They went silent for a while, looking at the drawing.

Ordered more porter.

Let this moment last forever.

The most important one.

Anton felt he literally broke into a sweat. He realized that all his life long, the only thing he did was prove he was the best…

Everything for his own sake.

It’s a dead end.

“You must be a leader,” he remembered. “Oh!” a moan resounded inside him.

The man on the stage tap-danced very rhythmically. It already seemed that he ran out of energy… but again… and once more.

Anton clearly saw what it meant to fulfill oneself. The way Stan did.

Do what you ought to do for the world.

Just sing the song of your life.

And so that it’s not ‘a useless buzzing.’

“Impossible to believe,” Anton thought, “in downtown London, in such a hotel, with a faithful friend. To discover this in me.”

But how friendly the program is built!

I might have never realized that!

If we don’t raise the level of the humans inside us, all our desires will only do harm to other people!

The dancer made a jump and froze, and immediately, a bright light flooded the stage and all the musicians. The percussion instruments started to play with all their might!

I can really be free from instincts!

Choose on my own to be useful to the world.

Stan could make it. Then, I can make it, too!

“Let’s move on.” Anton realized. “Together.”

-by Iskra Dolina

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