Cubes

Cubes
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The author presents a science fiction story in which the protagonist finds himself in the near future, where a unique system of governance has been created. The story addresses pressing issues of today: how and where is our society moving, how is it evolving? Progress or degradation – where is that fine line that defines our future?

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© Vadim Simbarskiy, 2025


ISBN 978-5-0065-5811-3

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

CUBES

We can know enough of the past

And be sure of present at last,

But the future stays unknown,

We can only guess what will be shown.

V.M. Simbarsky


The bone-chilling January wind and, more importantly,

the rain – the incessant rain that had been falling

for five days straight – finally knocked them off

balance. They had been stuck in this godforsaken

hole, a place long forgotten by civilization, for

a month now.

Looking around, it seemed impossible that everything

here was once entirely different. Wooden houses

once stood in perfect linear order, connected by

a single road that doubled as the only street.

Windows with beautifully painted frames, livestock

and poultry roaming freely near the houses, adorned

it. Not far from the village, beyond the rye fields,

stretched the endless expanse of forests with all

their treasures.

In those January days, a thick blanket of fluffy

white snow covered the earth, crunching underfoot

with each step. The frost, which painted cheeks

rosy, held these lands in its grip all winter.

From the sky, snowflakes fell evenly and slowly,

as if someone were scattering cotton from above

or beating an old, tattered feather bed. They

twirled and settled, and the snow grew deeper

and deeper, forming drifts where carefree children

frolicked.

Good Lord, was all of this real? Ben gazed at

the black, soggy steppe, drenched and muddy,

scorched by an unseen fire. He tried to understand

who needed this war and why. Closing the book

about World War I, he stared out the window for

a long time, contemplating the senseless, useless,

and foolish cruelty, that animal instinct with

which people so easily destroy one another.

“Yes, it’s good we don’t live in those times,”

Ben said to himself.

Our hero is a young man. As you’ve already gathered,

his name is Ben. At 24, he’s an athletic blonde

of average height with strikingly blue eyes. In

the mid-21st century, nationality had long ceased

to be a primary characteristic, losing its

significance entirely. So let’s simply say: our

hero hails from somewhere in the north.

His parents once told him that his grandmother was

Swedish, while his grandfather had come to England

from somewhere in Eastern Europe. But now, such

details are mere whispers of a forgotten past.

After the immigration reform in the first quarter

of the 21st century, borders dissolved like morning

mist, and the great mingling of peoples began.

In the blink of a cosmic eye, humanity transformed

into a single, unified nation – the people of

planet Earth.

But enough of that. We’ve momentarily lost sight

of our hero. Ben had just finished college, majoring

in 20th-century history, and was preparing for his

thesis on World War I. He lived in a small town

near London, working evenings at a construction

site. Yes, dear reader, some things never change.

Does this remind you of your student years? Forms

may evolve, but the essence remains. Students,

just as they did 100 or 200 years ago, still work

construction jobs. Our Ben was no exception.

And it was at this very construction site that

everything began. It started like this: An ordinary

day. Ben returned from college, grabbed a quick

bite, and prepared for work. On his way to the

site, he encountered an engineer who directed him

to a new area, section four. Ben had never been

there before, and his path wound through a labyrinth

of building materials, bricks, and assorted

construction debris.

No one was around, and for a moment, Ben felt a

wave of disorientation and unease, as if he’d

stumbled into some cosmic maze. Suddenly, he tripped

over a piece of debris. His head spun, and Ben

began to fall. Just when he thought he should have

hit the ground, he realized he was still falling.

It was like a dream where you fall and fall, then

land with impossible softness.

Ben came to, utterly bewildered. It felt as though

he’d been falling for an eternity, yet he knew

logically that only moments could have passed. He

shook his head, as one does in such situations,

stood up, and began dusting himself off. Only then

did he notice he wasn’t standing on the dusty,

dirty floor of the construction site, but on

something perfectly smooth and clean.

Standing up straight and looking around, he uttered

in bewilderment: “Wow.” Again, as one does in such

situations.

Everything around him gleamed with cleanliness,

and somehow everything seemed extraordinarily

precise. Sharp geometric lines, strictly vertical

and horizontal, were present in everything his

gaze fell upon. The structures surrounding Ben

were crisp – square and rectangular. Some towered

above others. Ben couldn’t comprehend what this

was. It seemed like a street in some fantastical

city from 20th-century science fiction stories.

At least, that’s how it appeared to him.

“But wait! What the hell is going on?!” Ben seemed

to be shouting at himself. “Am I dreaming? Did I

hit my head while falling? Am I unconscious now?

What am I? Where am I? How did I get here?” But

soon, regaining his composure and overcoming his

momentary hysteria, he thought, “It doesn’t matter



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