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Number Ten
Number Ten
Number Ten
Ebook29 pages24 minutes

Number Ten

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The scientists are trying to create a perfect digital copy of human mind. What if they succeed...and lose control over it?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherNick Troy
Release dateAug 21, 2013
ISBN9781301581238
Number Ten
Author

Nick Troy

Nick Troy is a Russian-speaking Ukrainian writer, author of several novels in the genres of cyberpunk, post-apocalyptic fiction and fantasy. Born October 29, 1983 in Donetsk, Ukraine, he was given the name of Nikolay Borodin. But later he discovered the existence of a living writer with just the same name and hence took the pen name of Nick Troy. Before becoming a professional writer, he studied History and Religion, majored in Journalism, went in for drawing, wrote several songs for rock groups and spent some time leading a historical rubric in a local newspaper. Published his first book, a post-apocalyptic novel "Head in the Noose", in 2011. That was when he chose a full-time career in writing. The next two books, a cyberpunk series of "Neironet" and "Neironet 2: Offline Mode", were also bought by publishers, while his fantasy novel "Kill a Hero' was self-published on the web. A winner of the “Russia For Immortals” writing contest, held in 2011 by the “Russia 2045” movement. Nick Troy's "Internet Hate Machine" is the first book in a series of three techno-thrillers dealing with the incipient competition between the real world and the virtual one in the nearest future which, according to the author, would see the beginning of the information singularity. The rights for this book in Russia were purchased by “AST-Astrel,” one of the country’s largest publishers, and a gaming company “Ravelin” is going to make a computer game adaptation of it.

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    Book preview

    Number Ten - Nick Troy

    Number Ten

    by Nick Troy

    Copyright 2013 Nick Troy

    English translation 2013 Ingrid Wolf

    Smashwords Edition

    Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed, provided it remains in its complete original form, and the reader is not charged to access it.

    Number Ten

    When a call came from the supply department, I was ready. In fact, I’d been waiting for their go-ahead for whole four minutes! That’s inadmissibly long in our business.

    There’s a contact, I shouted, feeling everything inside me freeze with excitement. The load’s come!

    From behind came a soft drumming on the keyboard, then Olga sang out, Frankenstein is informed. I’ll establish the channel.

    Without waiting for the command, I jumped up from the desk and rushed out into the corridor. The ghastly light of fluorescent lamps slashed my eyes. It smelled of hospital, with some bitter tinge. After a moment’s hesitation, I dashed to the lift, trying not to drop the freshly printed pages of data on the number ten.

    People in white coats shied back to walls. I heard an excited whisper behind, Zombiemakers on alert again?

    Swine! I thought on the run. Every day a new nickname for us!

    The lift had a queue by it, as ever. Ancient doctors, who have lived since the time of Lenin’s embalming, are stubborn in their refuse to improve health by walking the stairs. Sometimes the resuscitation team can’t get a trolley with a patient into unless they drive old hags out.

    No room, Chekhov! a female doctor muttered peevishly. You’ll have to stretch your legs on the stairs.

    Shit! They’ve also invented a nickname for me. Chekhov, dammit! Is it because I’m lanky, bespectacled and have a goatee?!

    Distracted by thoughts, I almost rushed downstairs past the right level. The guards at the door of the unit number eight gave a start as I crashed

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