Nicholas, without rising from the chair that now seemed the only island of earthly matter in the middle of a stellar ocean, jerked sharply. His gaze became sharp and cold, like shattered glass. He did not part his lips, but the space around him filled with his angry mental cry:
?"You explain everything through the Numenon alone: speed, distance, and the very essence of the universe?! You deny mathematics and time, nullifying every discovery of those who built our world brick by brick! Newton, Einstein, Planck, Bohr, Hawking... Do you place yourself above them all? Do you set your Numenon above everything that humanity has constructed over millennia?!"
?In response, not a single sound was heard. Only in Nicholas’s head did a calm, undeniable flow of a foreign will spread:
?"Nicholas, I in no way diminish these works. To me, they are like the cave paintings of primitive humans in a dark cavern. You attempted to describe the ocean by painting droplets with ochre on a cave wall. It is not an error. It is the childhood of the mind."
?"Fine!" Nicholas’s desperate thought pulsed. "But you yourself acknowledge the Bible! It speaks of the image of God! If we are created in His likeness, then our movement cannot be meaningless!"
?"I acknowledge these texts," Nova’s mental response seemed cast from light. "But I originally called them something else: instructions for humanity. Primary codes in a system you could not comprehend. God endowed you with thought—and this is a priceless privilege. Only humans possess the gift of creation. That is the likeness. But you read the instruction manual for the Universe as a poem, skipping the technical details."
?At that moment, Marcus’s voice dominantly wove into the mental duel. He could no longer remain silent, feeling his entire life being devalued.
?"And do you not take our work into account?!" his thought vibrated alongside Nicholas’s. "We do not count ourselves among the great physicists, but we are the ones who, through our labor and this device, managed to open the portal through which you now interact with us! It was this corridor, which you call childhood, that gave you a path into our world. And we cleared this path not just with calculations. We sacrificed everything! We have lived for years without wives, our children left to themselves, while we burn our lives away in laboratories. Our labors must be recognized and respected, for they are the only crack through which you were able to reach us. This is the price of our human happiness!"
?The space around them shuddered almost imperceptibly, and Nova’s mental response grew softer, as if she felt the depth of their pain:
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?"Nicholas, Marcus... I in no way diminish your achievements or your place in this Universe. I am simply showing their position in the hierarchy of the cosmos. To me, you are like embryos of consciousness, like children I am trying to teach to perceive the infinite magnitude of this space. It is not yet the time or the place for full understanding, but your work... to reassure you, I will say: to me, it is extraordinary. You managed to single-handedly open doors that were meant to remain closed for thousands of years. Your gift for creation—that is the very likeness you spoke of."
?Nicholas, somewhat calmed by this recognition, threw out his final challenge, clutching the only material evidence of their progress:
?"We aren't just painting! Our Voyager 1 is already there, where true freedom begins! It is already beyond the cage you so skillfully fenced us in with!"
?In that same instant, reality shifted. Nicholas and Marcus found themselves in the icy blackness of space. Directly before them, literally at arm's length, Voyager 1 rotated slowly in eternal silence. They flew parallel to it, seeing every antenna, every scar on the metal body of the craft, which seemed incredibly fragile against the backdrop of the abyss.
?"Fifty years..." Nova’s thought vibrated in their very essence. "Are you proud of this time and this metal shard? Look through my eyes."
?Their chairs turned commandingly in the opposite direction. There, far off in the darkness, a barely perceptible dot pulsed faintly—Earth.
?"There it is. Your yesterday. The entire journey of your fastest craft over these fifty years is but a single step. One tiny, slow step of a tardigrade on the way to the very edge of the Universe. I, however, cross this distance in a single Numenon. You are travelers who believe a dewdrop is an ocean only because you managed to crawl to its center."
?In this mental dialogue, a quiet stream of Marcus’s thoughts, paralyzed with terror, intertwined:
?"This... is simultaneously mesmerizing and terrifying. It makes us nothing, Nicholas. It rips the ground from beneath our feet."
?Marcus tried to defend himself with the remnants of professional sarcasm:
?"Excuse me, but fundamental laws exist! Thermodynamics... the number Pi! This is the base upon which everything stands!"
?"Marcus, the number Pi is but a crutch for your brain. In the true light, there are no 'curves'—there are only vectors of energy. Your thermodynamics are rules for dust. You invented entropy because you are incapable of tracking the movement of every spark in a bonfire. In my presence, these laws lose their power. I am the order that transforms your noise into a symphony."
?Nicholas felt anxiety for his sons break through the cosmic numbness once more:
?"I understand, you do not recognize time... But the second shift is coming! They will find the laboratory empty, they will see our sleeping children... This will raise unnecessary questions!"
?Nicholas instinctively glanced at his watch. 8:15. The digits were frozen as if glued to the display—the very moment he had removed the restrictions from Nova.
?"Do not worry," Nova’s gentle reply came. "There is no time, Nicholas. You are in the gap between the heartbeats of the Universe. Your night shift has not even left home yet, and the children have not had time to change their posture in their sleep. We will be here for as long as I allow us to be."
