Interlude Four – Irena Alexandrovna Kuznetsova

Interlude Four – Irena Alexandrovna Kuznetsova

“... can see, there is no way that the human body can sustain such forces. The maximum pressure should be around six thousand pounds of force, and that is for a robust adult male. A small woman like we see here should be less.”

The other man nodded. “Yes, and this scene is not edited in any way, it was broadcast live and from multiple different angles and sources. We have analysed the footage, and her running speed is more than eight times the sprint world record. Her bones would simply shatter under that force.”

“Before that, there’s a number of bigger issues, isn’t there?” The first man was saying, bringing up a series of charts and graphs. “The muscles themselves cannot sustain such forces, and the tendons... in fact, it is theoretically posited than forty miles per hour is the maximum speed any human could achieve.”

“Not all science is right, it seems.” The second host let out a dry laugh. “Here, we have calculated an initial sprint here of over one hundred and seventy miles per hour, with acceleration matching the President’s own limousine, no, exceeding it. I think those textbooks have to go in the trash.”

“Is it really right to condemn them though, as this is clearly supernatural? Why, the President himself, in his address to the Federal Assembly, has admitted such, and called for all patriotic Russians to come forward and pledge their powers to the State, for the good of all Russia.”

“We are surely privileged to live in exciting times!” the man laughed. “Though the scientists will be weeping and tossing aside their libraries...”

Irena shook her head, irritated, a pout on her pale face. “Pizdets.” She spat a curse. “Any scientist who tosses aside their work because of this is a fool, a failure.” No, how is it possible not to be fascinated with such? After all, that girl, she is no bigger than I am... Looking down at her frail frame, she shook her head, white hair swaying in her pair of pigtails, while her pink eyes narrowed, watery and sore already from the strain of watching too much television.

“Oh, Irena, dear. I’ve told you, a pretty devushka like you should mind her language. Girls who swear aren’t popular with the boys.”

“Babulya, I’ve told you, I’m never going to be popular.” Irena sniffed. “As for my language, who is here to listen but us?” she told the kind old lady who was her maid, her servant, sometimes assistant, and surrogate parent while her mama and papa were away, which was almost always.

“That doesn’t matter. If you get into bad habits now, you’ll never break them.” The older woman said. “Here.” she handed Irena a mug, and she took them in her quivering hands, enjoying the fragrant smell. “Warm milk and cinnamon, just the way you like it, my dear.”

Taking a sip, the sharp edge in Irena’s gaze softened, and she looked like her age for a moment. Putting the cup down, she sighed. “So, I get that papa and mama are busier than ever, but I wanted to talk to them...” Her happy face turned into a sullen pout.

“It is the news, dear. Irena, just as you are a genius, your parents are important, clever people too. Why, the President himself has called for them, and others like them.” Irena’s eyes strayed to the TV, which was broadcasting more footage. As her look, the woman sighed. “Look, dear, you have to be a big girl now. Your parents are going to be very busy from now on. You will be as well! After all...” she brought out some sweets on a silver tray, and despite herself Irena reached out for some. “... you are the little genius of Russia! There’s a whole new world for you to explore now, isn’t there?”

She’s right, but it is a little frustrating. Turning away from the TV and the commentary, which was basic and lacked nuance, she sighed. “Yes, rejecting progress because it is unscientific is foolish.” Her pale skin flushed, and she remembered the conversation she had with the nameless comrade of hers only a few hours before, where she had done exactly the same and had been put in her place shamefully.

“You knew about this. When you said I was missing a spark...” Irena had typed out in English, the common language for scientists to communicate in worldwide. She spoke it fluently, of course, as well as several other languages. I have never seen the face or heard the voice of this collaborator. Nor has he... well, I assume it is a man through his style of language... seen mine. I am not permitted to reveal myself, I am too precious to the motherland. Besides... nothing good can come of it. She remembered the attempts to capture her or worse, the smoke, the scent of blood. Just thinking about it made her tremble and her eyes tear up, but it wasn’t the time to dwell on such.

“...did you mean magic? That is not science.” She typed accusingly, her small fingers dancing on her keyboard. There was a delay and for a moment Irena thought she would not be getting any response, only for the reply to surprise her, and for a moment she had stared at the blinking letters on the screen, rereading them, which was not like her at all.

“Just what do you think science is? Is it not the application of understanding and knowledge to achieve the desired result? If so, then how is magic... such an undignified term, which trivialises the study... any different? Cause begets effect. The blending of science and the aetheric arts, as well as even adherence, is the true essence of science, which we call mortal engineering.”

“Nonsense.” The older woman disagreed. “Even if that was the case, you’d turn your attention so something else, my dear. Just like your parents have...” she paused, her face changing, and Irena seized on that.

“Do you know what mama and papa have been doing?” she asked, not forgetting to finish her cookie. “Is it related to this?” She gestured to the Television, which was now showing a tall Russian man, dressed in military uniform, somehow freezing a large barrel of water, making the metal shatter and explode.

“I really shouldn’t say, you inquisitive little thing.” She demurred, waving her hands, but as Irena peered at her with her moist pink eyes, she gave in. “Fine, I should not be doing this, so do pretend you don’t know.” She looked towards the sturdy metal door that isolated her laboratory and living space from the wider laboratories. “Your parents are important people. Of course they have been chosen to investigate this new phenomenon. Now, don’t look at me like that...” she reached out and poked Irena’s cheek gently.

“Stop that, Babulya!” she waved her hands, only to have the old woman chuckle.

“... even if you pout and look at me with your pretty face, I can’t tell you any more. You think I move in those circles? I am just your caretaker, dear.”

“Anything you can tell me would help.” Irena insisted, unblinking.

“Oh, naughty girl” she ruffled Irena’s hair gently, again causing her to pout and protest. “All I know is, there are a number of new studies here at Fyodor Technical Institute. The security has been stepped up to levels even more frightening that is ordinary. Why...” she gestured to her security pass that hung on her chest wryly. “... just getting in here takes twenty minutes longer than usual.” She smiled. “I have to hurry my morning shower.”

“It is related to these new powers, these aetheric arts?” Irena said shrewdly.

“Aetheric arts? I haven’t heard the term. Is that something you coined, clever girl?”

As Irena shook her head, her Babulya continued, chattering away brightly. “Yes, more brilliant minds and loyal Russians are gathering here, working together. To think, we are at the heart of it. So, your parents are busy, don’t blame them for not taking more time to see you. Matters will settle down again, ride slower, get further, my dear. Matters have been hastened...” she scowled at the television. “The good thing is, nobody will trouble you now, my devushka. If anyone tries to abduct you again, they will not even set foot on the grounds of the Institute!”

“I think my value might be dropping.” Irena said sadly. “How does that even work?” The man on screen was freezing more barrels, and through he was starting to sweat, his face pale, he looked proud, as the commentators were saying this was the start of a new era of Russian dominance, with powerful and brave Russian citizens the match for any in the world. “Those barrels contain roughly a hundred litres of water. Assume the air temperature is around five degrees, and the water temperature has evened out for simplicity...” She rapidly did the maths, her mind working. “That would be around two point one million Joules, plus a further thirty-three point three million Joules to crystalise the ice, all delivered so rapidly. If we call it thirty-five million for simplicity, thirty-five Megajoules...” She shook her head, astounded. “That is impossible. It’s like producing the energy of a litre of gasoline from nowhere, and he has done it numerous times. The human body doesn’t output such energy. No... I am letting what I believe to be true conflict with the reality in front of me.”

“What do you mean? You’re not useless, my dear, no. Don’t even joke about such things!” the woman said, and Irena waved her worries away.

“I know. I was just feeling sorry for myself. I have seen the running girl. This is in a way less surprising. But...” she ran some hasty calculations. “Regrowing an arm for the Prince would require significantly more energy than freezing some water. Creating matter from nowhere would require apocalyptic amounts of energy due to E=MC2. No, it would have to accelerate biological processes to make any sort of sense, but even then, the energy demand would be staggering.”

“It would be more valuable too.” The old woman smiled. “Though making the cookies you like out of thin air would be better, no?”

“Don’t tease me, I’m thinking!” Irena flushed, her pale skin glowing red hot. “Some of the issues I have been encountering...” The processors used to create the brains and nervous systems for my Artificial Intelligence run extremely hot, limiting the size and layouts possible... imagine if I could cool them so efficiently. Why, we could easily achieve a three-fold increase in effect, no, four-fold...

Taking a sip of her now cold milk, she grimaced, only for a gentle hand to take it away and replace it with a warm one. Taking a sip, her lips curved into a smile. “... if we assume the energy can be made electrical, rather than whatever thermal version was affecting the ice, then we could get further efficiency gains. It still might not be enough, as it lacks the spark, as he said, but I am a scientist. I plan, I test, I cry when it fails, I go and redraw my designs. I test...” her eyes narrowed, and she started designing something new. “There are a lot of assumptions here, matters I do not understand. But even taking the numbers as a baseline, assuming that the man freezing the water is no lie...” as she hummed to herself she didn’t notice the blanket draped around her shoulders, or her Babulya looking on fondly...

“Yes, if I had access to more information... I should have authority to see the full library of the Institute...” her hands typing rapidly, more screens came up, and she frowned, as she hit a password-protected security firewall. Surprised, she gnawed on her lip, taking another sip of warm milk. “I am not included in the access?” She stamped her foot in annoyance. “I could crack the security easily enough. My AI is more than up to that. But...” Mama and papa are involved. If I ask them... surely they won’t deny me, not after I see them so rarely...