Dissolution (draft)

ACT I - Space Wanderer. Chapter 3 - Favorite thing.

The working studio arrived in a cozy darkness. All the working machines have not yet woken up. Literally in an hour, the machines will make noise, and the printers will begin to output the ordered circuits. Two daily cycles of silence leave no sign of these silent workers. Vic only had a dissonance from the morning of the first work cycle of each week.

Colleagues walked along the sleeping devices, after a while which they will start to launch. The wayside consecration, which stretched along the free space and illuminated the passage place, was never turned off on the ship. Only the network indicators burning on the devices already told Vic and Kira that Phil was already in place.

They went into the utility room, which was ergonomically as good as the main work area. The equal size of the utility room and the working area implied the voluntary development of various crew projects for the benefit of the expedition.

- hello. – Phil greeted them. – quarreled with whom? – he asked, focusing the attention of the interlocutors on the bruise of Vic's face.

Colleagues greeted the boss and told him about the situation. There was no limit to Phil's surprise at the moment of listening to the story, the fear expressed by him also did not escape their attention.

Many might think that a fight or a small conflict in society can exist, and it can determine what is good and what is bad. After all, in the works of art written many centuries ago and the ship that was available now, you can find almost ninety percent of such situations.

Only now people born on Shambhala, and people who have lost their mother planet Earth, realize in the subcortex of their brain that even the slightest conflict between two individuals can tear their already small commune to shreds. And there will be nowhere to fly to the fragments of a ship once plowing the expanses of space, carrying on its board a smoldering ember of a once cheerfully burning bonfire.

That's what scared Phil and all the people involved in the situation. That restriction, that security on guard, which seemed to be a fail-safe mechanism, did not work. There were kinks in the system, there were flaws, but in the first fifty years since the operation of this program, all the flaws have already been solved and found. And the problem was not only the lack of reaction, but also the transfer of false testimony to the database.

- I hope they will solve this problem and find its source. Phil said, looking into the distance. Focusing his gaze, and looking at his subordinates, he began. – I want to show you one thing . . .

He got up from his desk and walked to the opposite side of the room from the entrance. Where behind the tinted, distorted color rendering, glass, was the main interest of today's daily cycle. Phil went to the digital panel and began to enter the password. After entering it correctly, the tinting disappeared and the glass, starting from the center, began to shift to opposite sides of the opening.

The consecration included in the space displayed something lying on a pedestal. The pedestal itself looked like an operating table. And this something looked like a dissected toad, only if this toad was in the form of a man, consisted of metal, and its skin was not attached to a pin, but neatly folded into an accordion.

- I think I was right. – Pushing in the side, Kira confirmed her guesses to Vika in a whisper.

- This is an exoskeleton armor, the idea of the production of which I have been dreaming about since I was probably ten years old. – Phil reported about his creation. - My brother was just working in law enforcement, and I kept thinking, "why did they stop using armor?"

- The production of armor on the battlefields, between the feudal lords, was so expensive, and for regular armies such things would be even more expensive. Kira stated the fact. - Yes, and the unification happened quickly, only local showdowns of criminals, or private crimes remained.