Sergey switched the systems on and found himself fully immersed in the new technology that lay before him . I have never quite seen something like this in my life . The ship is powered by some other energy source than fuel . Sergey shifted between the analog and the digital versions of the ship , trying to figure out if the ship could transcend space time and enter through worm holes . He looked around everywhere like a playful child would . The exterior of the ship is much like our own , but the interior is all alien . The ship if examined back at earth could be groundbreaking . Sergey as we was busy tearing apart the mechanics of the ship in his head , glanced through the windows of the spaceship .He saw his good friend , the trusk slowly wander away from the ship . A true friend , thought Sergey . Sergey wasted no time to switch on the energy systems and get up to speed . The ship was ignited now and ready for space travel . Let me wait for my friend to get a little further away , he thought , so as to not scare him . Sergey went through the manuals , trying to work out what the remaining buttons were for , the ones he did could not what their purpose was for . Sergey's wait was over . Sergey put int he co-ordinates where his old ship was located . The ship flew with a menace , one Sergey has not felt before . Before he knew , the ship landed at the location of the his previous ship . Sergey quickly went over and loaded the items from his old ship onto the new . He looked at the cave that gave him a home , and bid farewell to it . Sergey went into his new ship , put all the items needed in place and punched a set of co-ordinates that was very new to him . The ship however , had a memory of its own and it instantly recognized the co-ordinates . Planet 101 , it beeped and showed in red on the screen . Sergey did not bother much about it , he okayed the co-ordinates and the ship set sail for the new location . I better be awarded a medal of honor for all the accomplishments that I have done .
Romanov
Romanov was in his room . Writing something in his notes . You could say something troubled him now . He had a cigarette on him , and failed continuously to ash the smoke . he did not even notice the ash spilling over to the carpet area of the room . He was embroiled in his own thoughts . The travelers now will commemorate everyone with a medal of honor , the highest honor that can be bestowed upon a civilian. They will make an event out of it and make the awardee fell that the world is now a better place because of their efforts . And so did I , when i received a medal for my achievements . And I was naïve enough to think that the wheels of bureaucracy would start to spin in the other direction . That is what we all think , do we not . And it never does , no matter what happens . It continues to spin the way it always has . The curtains are lifted and the show is over . And the medal winner goes back to his house and puts it in a glass house , looking at it when things were down or he never felt respected enough . He wears it around his neck all the time , not physically , but in mind . He thinks everyone notices it , that they notice him . And yes they do , for a while . They remember his heroics , until the next hero come along , and the cycle spins . And the hero now starts to wear the medal a little less and less , until one final day it only dawns the walls of his house . And one day , when he is weary and old , he forgets about the medal . And when he looks at it , by mistake or so , it reminds him of a very sweet victory , not for himself , but for the machine called bureaucracy . The old man would now think that , they might as well have awarded themselves . Or given away no medal at all , it might as well not wasted some resource . Romanov shut his book and finally let go of the ash of his cigarette .
I wish Sergey does not return , I really wish that he has found a home for himself somewhere , far , far away . There is nothing for him here , there is nothing her for Plato , nor Constantine nor the countless people whose mind have not yet been polluted by the lies of old men who twist and turn the books , until it fits their vision .
