– Superb thing! – he declares, – Sweet-sweet! Real Cura ao!
– Do you spend the whole day here?, – I inquire.
– Whole day? Ha! I exit this place to eat something, and pardon me, to visit bathroom!
– Madam says, all security here depends on you.
– Wrong word! Everything depends on me here.
– May a stranger enter here?
– And how could we earn the living if we wouldn't let them in?
– I'm not about that. Is it possible to penetrate into the brothel's service areas?
– Institution's! This is not a brothel, but Institution! No, it is not.
– Absolutely?
Wiz sighs and becomes more serious.
– Are you hacker or lamer?
– A 'newbie'.
– Okie, I see… The absolute security doesn't exist. The closer you're to the absolute reliability, the less comfortable you feel in virtuality. It's a quadratic dependence here – your ability to receive and to transmit data falls as the security level becomes higher. The most important thing is to find the optimal ratio between comfort and security. Our security system was created with the elements of artificial intelligence. When breaking attempts are detected, the warning is broadcasted, additional passwords are implemented, dummies are activated…
– Dummies?
– Autonomous mobile security programs, phagocytes. I call them dummies, they are all dumb. Why don't you drink?
I pour myself more.
– If an intensive attack happens, – Wiz goes on, – then the degree of security grows unlimited, up to the complete encapsulation of the Institution. Of course it never happened before, but it's meant to work this way.
– So you want to say that the security IS ideal after all?
Wiz hesitates, the vanity which he obviously has struggles with objectivity.
– No… If the big group of professionals would plan the break-in, they'll be able to enter before the defense starts to work in full volume. But who on the Earth would want to do that, huh?
I understand that it'd be stupid to expect any different answer. There's a sword for any shield.
– Thank you, Wiz.
– Ah, don't mention it! – he waves his hand, – Do you want to make your own security system? Drag it in here, I'll help. Or better yet, let's go to your place! – Wiz fires up, – I'll do everything myself, I'm so bored of sitting here!
I shake my head, he guessed wrong.
– I'm just interested in how it's handled here.
– Ah, you're the auditor? – starts Wiz, – Hushhh… I've got it, I'm quiet… Why haven't Madam told me immediately?
Who might audit the brothel I wonder? What for? Very interesting… but I don't dare to question Wiz any more.
– Okay, time to go… and Vika must have freed already. – I say. Wiz becomes solemn and serious instantly:
– You watch it, don't hurt her!, – he warns, – she is… a great girl, I'd kick anyone's ass for her.
Wiz sighs and looks at the sea dreamily.
– I have just wanted to score her but you were the first… – he confesses, – You know, she had a great crush on me… or maybe even still has… but don't worry, I never take girls from my friends.
Some time ago I thought that the soap opera computer guys are completely fictional characters. Hah! If it just was really so. They do really exist.
– But don't you even think to approach that blondie! – he adds, – She's so desperately in love with me, she suffers that for almost half a year…
The poor girl laughs aloud hugging her friend, not suspecting about her ill fortune.
– Or maybe I'd go after Natashka… – thinks Wiz, – they're all such lovable types here!
He picks up his liquor and moves towards the laughing blonde in a dancing walk, while I use the moment to get out.
101
I must have done a couple more turns on the spiral stairs than necessary and descend into the lobby. The recent visitors are not here anymore, they must be enjoying the life's pleasures already.
Just one guy stands by the table browsing through the black album, short and stooping, with a face like of a famished marmot, with long strands of hair breaking loose from under the cap that's hung low above his eyes. I almost pass him going to the door into the service area when I get it. In the meanwhile the guy had put the album back and started to move towards the door.
– Hey, Cap! – I call him.
He stops and turns around slowly, his eyes are empty and as cheerful as the ones of the boiled fish.
– You're Cap, – I repeat.
No reaction whatsoever, the guy goggles at me absolutely blankly.
– I don't like you! – I say with a sudden joy, – Do you hear me? I don't like you at all!
– 'Haha' three times, – replies Cap averting his pale gaze and turns to the door again. He doesn't have any curiosity at all. He's a compatriot at least.
– Stop! – I shout into his back and he stops, waiting indifferently, – You shouldn't return here anymore, – I say.
Cap smirks – the first emotion on his face, but it looks so mechanic as if I'm talking to a program instead of an alive person.
– What do you want here?
Looks like it's the question that he's ready to answer.
– Some collective psychology research.
– Conduct it elsewhere.
His pale eyes examine me from feet to the head.
– Do you work here?
– No.
– You're mutant then.
I feel myself lost after such a weird characteristic and Cap explains:
– The loss of social and ethical orientation. Personality decomposition. What an inevitable and disgusting metamorphosis.
Already opening the door, he adds:
– Boring…
…Vika's voice reaches me by the exit:
– Leonid, wait! Don't!
It's quite difficult to get back to my senses. I realize that my right hand clings to the belt and the left one squeezed in a fist. I look at Vika feeling how my fury slowly fades.
– Was it Cap? – I define just in case.
– Yes.
– I think I'm starting to understand your reaction.
– Have you cooled down already? – inquires Vika, – Good boy. Let's go.
I'm already feeling uncomfortable of my recent outbreak. Strange, I never thought it's so easy to start me, by in general quite meaningless words.
– Who is he, Vika?
She feels that she'll have to answer this question.
– Nothing special. Just a person who thinks he has a right to judge everyone around.
– Virtual prostitutes for instance?
– Not only. I know a couple more places where Cap conducts his experiments.
– He said something about psychology…
These words amuse Vika for some reason:
– The person that is unable to be creative always tries to justify his destructive behavior. Very often this is done in a form of aloof watching of the world's imperfections, especially ones such as our brothel…
We enter the door from which the black kitten is smiling, and Vika goes on:
– Psychology is a very simple science according to the general opinion. People aren't able to hammer the nail in by themselves or to rhyme at least a couple of lines never doubt in their ability to understand – and to judge others. In extreme cases it becomes the essence of their lives and the source of self-confidence.
– Who are you, Vika?
– A psychologist. PhD, if you want to know.
She sits down, sweeps the gravel from the table. The room obviously needs cleaning after the earthquake. Since there's no second chair here, I just squat nearby.
– And your Thesis' subject is?…
– "Abnormal behavioral reactions' sublimation in the virtual space environment".