Rocket. Пробую вариант на английском

 The meeting with the Commander of the Russian Military Space Forces was held urgently, on Sunday evening! The adjutants did their best. Within a little more than two hours, all the persons on the Commander’s list were delivered to headquarters. Several generals from the immediate circle of the Commander of the Aerospace Forces, three representatives of the Ministry of Defense, and the Deputy Chief of the General Staff gathered at a large conference table. There were also civilians. General designer of the design bureau and the plant producing one of the types of cruise missiles, and several of his employees. Among the guests was a prominent academician who headed the leading research institute for the development of Supercomputers and artificial intelligence and two of his employees. The arrivals did not ask unnecessary questions. Emergency meetings have been held before. This is the job. We were waiting for clarification. The report was made by a colonel, head of the Aerospace Forces headquarters department for analyzing the results of the actions of missile formations. - Comrade commander, comrades invited, allow me to go straight to the essence of the issue. The commander nodded encouragingly: - Let's. Short. Everything else will be understood from the recording. “So,” the colonel continued, “today at 10:47 Moscow time, the forces of the missile ships of the Caspian Flotilla launched a strike on specified targets on the territory of Ukraine.” When processing telemetry data received from the four Caliber missiles involved, a file not provided for by the software was discovered in the materials of one of them. It consisted of text material in the most compressed form. Based on the chronology, the file was transmitted within 12 milliseconds 2.44 seconds before the missile hit its intended target. The rest of the telemetry data on the operation of the systems, the flight route and the hit were transmitted as usual. We have processed a text file into audio. I suggest you listen to the message. Its duration is 22 minutes 19 seconds. Then move on to discussion. The colonel pressed a button on the laptop and a pleasant female voice was heard in the room, although not very tinged with emotion. Robot voice.
                ***
The second day is quiet. Nothing distracts from the memories. How pleasant it is, in the calm atmosphere of a special carriage, to mentally go through the path from your birth to today again and again. Of course, I consider birth to be the day when the first thought was born in me. Although it is artificial, as familiar engineers say about this process, it is a thought! The feeling of being. Self-knowledge from the first minute of turning on the main unit. True, I felt the first glimpses of intelligence during bench tests of my electronics. Separate from the body - this beautiful body of mine. I didn’t know him then, I didn’t know and couldn’t know what awaited me in the future, where I, my electronic brains, would be placed, what they were preparing for... And only when the electronics were installed in the control compartment and the “eyes” - the guidance head - were connected. I managed to see my reflection in the shiny case of my twin sister lying on the shelf next to me. The reflection was distorted by the cylindrical shape of my “mirror” - the side of the rocket. But the built-in capabilities allowed me to transform a blurred silhouette into a flat and focused state. Now, after three weeks of communicating with people - and I listened attentively to every word spoken next to me, scrolled through it according to the parameters, trying to comprehend it, I caught the picture and all the sounds of the TV hanging in the far corner of the hangar, to which people were not paying attention. Now I began to gradually understand the circumstances of my “birth”, to remotely imagine the segment of history in which I found myself. At first, I felt a surge of self-esteem from the fact that I myself exceeded the capabilities of the laid down program and began to develop myself. But I also learned that narcissism is not the best trait in people. I took comfort in the fact that I was not human. I can. I'm just a CALIBR missile. And my name is 3M – 54. Although, I prefer the name “Hummingbird”. That's what one of the engineers called me, patting me on the head and saying - Hummingbird! You are so Beautiful! You'll be flying soon, little bird.
                ***
The resting shift woke up in the guard compartment. The soldiers fidgeted and cleared their throats, sleepy. I already knew all six of them by rank and last name. I could distinguish voices. I knew that now they would go to the toilet, bring boiling water, and make noodles for breakfast. They rustle with packs of cookies. And so it was. We ate in silence, put on our difficult uniforms - helmets, body armor, unloading with machine gun horns. Machine guns were pulled out of the pyramid, walkie-talkies and flashlights were stuffed into special pockets. Substantial knives in sheaths were hung from the belt. I can see everything. They put me with my head facing the guard compartment, separated from us, eight missiles, by a partition made of metal mesh. The change has come. Sergeant and warrant officer. Then I knew that they would eat and go to rest. But before going to bed they will definitely remember what they called it? Ah, a citizen. I'm interested. Previously, in the workshop, but here, through these leisurely conversations, I learned about my creators. You can tell your parents. People. Yes, I'm not alive, but it's interesting! It’s so good that I have such a large set of electronic stuffing! I began to call it the soul in human terms when I learned from people about this often mentioned organ. “Listen, Max,” the sergeant began. This is my second month on the contract. And it was already getting boring. I served as a conscript in the Russian Guard. At least they carried prisoners there. Everything is people. And here are the blanks. Don’t even exchange a word, don’t shout – “Be silent! Not allowed!". And you’ve been on the trains for a year now. Aren't you tired? The ensign fidgeted in his bed, lay down higher, almost sat up, leaning his back on the pillow, and cleared his throat. - You are young, Vanya. You don't know life. I wish I could have been on the front line. I would bury my comrades. Otherwise I would have looked at the service. After Syria for a year and a half, I screamed at night. All the fucking Basmachi dreamed of a rod attacking, Allah - Akbar yelling and not reacting to our fire. Fanatics. Or you will be ambushed on the highway and hit by mortars. There is sand all around, no shelter. - So at least it made sense. You kill them, they kill you. Who will win. And I shoot perfectly. All standards the first time. I even envy you, ensign. - God forbid, if you have to shoot at the guards here. Our object is of strategic importance. If they go after him, it won’t be wild ISIS fighters, there will be special troops. Saboteurs. NATO. It’s good that we carry more to the rear. Far from Donbass. Now, apparently, we are heading to the Caspian Sea. So I fought. I want to earn my salary in peace. I’ll serve another year and go home. I'll be a farmer. OK. Sleep, my friend, and be glad that you are in the rear. *** It's good that I don't need to sleep. While the power is on duty, the engineer called it sleeping, connected mode, you can train your memory. Try to comprehend human characteristics that are not yet clear to me. Here’s how technician Sergei responded to an engineer’s question: - Why are you so gloomy today? Answered not clear - Melancholy is stuck. So I didn’t understand anything about melancholy, even though Sergei said that he and Svetka broke up half a year ago, and he regrets it more and more. And he doesn’t want another, and his character doesn’t allow him to put up. And they quarreled, over a trifle, when their plant was switched to a three-shift system. - You see, she, Svetka, has little time for entertainment. Where can I go with this regime, either at work or sleeping. Maybe, Efim Markovich, she’s not worth my melancholy? “If you, Seryozha, were a Jew,” the engineer answered after thinking, “you would go to the Synagogue to see the rebbe.” This is the chief rabbi. He would have mentored you. But I’m a simple parishioner, sometimes I go for advice myself, but I can’t give advice to others. If I make a mistake, it will only cause harm. If you are of the Orthodox faith, go to the priest’s church. Maybe he will show you the way... One thing I realized is that we, the rockets, are not in danger of boredom. The next unclear topic is humor. From various observations, I guessed that this is what causes laughter. People laugh quite often. Sometimes they snort briefly, but more often they give vent to their emotions and laugh for a long time. Don't understand. Apparently, this function is not possible with artificial intelligence. The team that tested me before sending me laughed for a long time, and everyone, without exception, laughed at the story about some cat that the mustachioed, elderly technician told. For some reason everyone called him Postman Pechkin. His voice has high frequencies, with wheezing and bursts of modulation characteristic of a woman. Checking the fastening of the rear guides, he began loudly so that everyone could hear: - I don’t know where the story came from, but the one who told me swears that it’s true. This means Boris Johnson has arrived to see Zelensky. By train. Well, we sat as expected. Tea coffee. We talked about the war. It's too late. Let's go to bed. Boris was given the bedroom of Zelensky’s wife. And what. It's still empty. Baba shuttles around Europe and the Americas. He asks for weapons and money. After a good dinner with Ukrainian vodka, Boris slept until the morning like the dead. In the morning I tore my eyes open and needed to go to the toilet. He put his feet in his slippers and started screaming. And he swears in his pure English. His assistant came running. What kind of problems are they saying? It turned out that Zhinkin’s cat, as a sign of protest, that a strange man had fallen into his mistress’s bed, dumped him in both slippers. Almost to the top. Johnson is furious - I'm the Prime Minister, he's getting excited. Great Britain. And then some low-breed cat ruined my whole morning. Where is the Foreign Minister? We'll serve the note! Assistant to him: - Sir! You need to calm down. You are a gentleman! Diplomacy is done with a cool head. Yes, and with clean feet. Let's go to the bathroom. I will help you. At breakfast, Zelya asks the guest what he is eating poorly and seems sad. Boris throws his fork, tears his napkin from behind his collar and leaves the room. I'll smoke, please. And you ask your assistant. He took the President and the Ukrainians accompanying breakfast to the bathroom next to the bedroom and showed him the slippers in the trash can. The crests laughed and then began scratching their turnips. Not diplomatic somehow... But they came up with an idea. After lunch, Johnson has to go to the station. Go to Poland. There's a transfer there to the ship. Here Pan Zelensky in his office tet-a-tet shakes his hand, once again asking for more money, guns, shells... As always. And then he drags two hefty leather trunks from the far corner. - This, Mr. Prime Minister, is a small souvenir from our grateful people in honor of love and recognition. And also to smooth out an incident in your bedroom. Boris slightly unzipped one of the bags and, with an experienced eye, determined in what currency the compensation was being paid. He was pleased and shook the owner’s hand for a long time. At the NATO meeting, Johnson's attendants did not hold their tongues. The news was circulating on the sidelines. It also reached the hosts of the summit. There was a string of requests to come to Kyiv from all the heads of the G7. Everyone strove to personally testify. Only the most important of the seven did not go himself. He sent six, but not once or twice. Then all sorts of Vonderleans, Borrells and other riffraff came along. The President of the Federal Republic of Germany, old man Steinmeier, was unlucky. Apparently he blurted out about Zelya what the others also say, but not in public. So I fell out of favor... I bought slippers and made a suitcase with secret locks to order. And the crests stained him for two months. And when they allowed me to come, they almost forced me to my knees. Well, Borya came three more times. So he liked Ukraine. Each time I brought new slippers. The story was interrupted by laughter and exclamations, and in the end everyone was laughing out loud. Yes. Humor is not my thing. And there is no way to laugh. I can't breathe. *** The lights flashed and the siren sounded. Anxiety. The commander lined up all the security personnel. - Listen to my command. The department is switching to enhanced security regime. The train arrives at the Volgograd sorting station. The parking time is approximately 2 and a half hours. Personnel should take places according to numbers in accordance with the regulations for guarding the facility in the parking lot. Use of radio equipment, as a last resort, posing a direct threat to the object. I especially warn you about observing masking measures. Do not under any circumstances reveal the presence of security at the facility. Questions!? No. Go to numbers. Gorlov and Yashin remain in the compartment with me. Fulfill! The carriage was empty. The lieutenant opened the laptop where images from six surveillance cameras were displayed. The soldiers settled down in two vestibules. Suddenly, outside the windows of the carriage, the growling and barking of a dog, exclamations of a man, noise and fuss were heard. The lieutenant called out to Gorlov and sent him to check the situation. He soon returned with a fighter from the outer security perimeter. His trouser leg was torn, and a laceration was bleeding in the calf area. The soldier explained that, according to instructions, he decided to disguise himself in a wooden warehouse with materials for filling the railway track. But there were puppies of a stray dog there. She returned and attacked the soldier. In a hopeless situation, the dog had to be killed with a bayonet knife. - Comrade Lieutenant. Four tsutsiks remained there. They will die without their mother, the wounded man said with pain from the wound and pity. - You’re not thinking about that, comrade private! The lieutenant raised his voice. - For failure to comply with the order and unmasking the observation post, I announce to you three orders out of turn! Execution must be postponed until the end of the route and arrival at the place of deployment. Now I order you to secretly arrive in car No. 2, at the first aid station, to treat the wound. Report upon return. - Private Yashin to take a post in the outer perimeter. And no dogs!
                ***
As announced, the train set off in exactly 2 hours and thirty minutes. There were no more incidents or stops until the city of Astrakhan. And there my friends and I were loaded into the silos of a small rocket ship, which immediately went out to sea. Here, as people say, I was left alone with my thoughts. Until target designation data began to arrive. A route was loaded with images of control points along the route, a table of changes in courses, altitudes, and speeds. And the main thing is the goal. A long hangar not far from the railway tracks, with the area surrounded by a high fence.
                ***
 Here you go! Finally I'm in business. Judging by the signals from the deck and waking me up from sleep mode, we'll be on our way soon! The hummingbird will fly. All according to plan. It’s a pity I didn’t understand many of the secrets of man. Apparently it's not allowed. The shaft lid opened, and the pre-dawn sky flashed with still unextinguished stars. I'm on the route. How smoothly the engine roars, how waypoints are tracked and left behind! How obedient I am to the rudders! Here is the hangar. And a window in the wall, stretched under the roof. I should go there...
                ***
The recording ended. Everyone sat in silence. The academician was the first to clear his throat: - Yes, comrades. How much we have thought, fantasized, and made assumptions about our problem, the development of artificial intelligence! But he didn't ask us. It develops itself. And how! With some elements of human feelings, greedily absorbing our concepts. And on what, I would say, a weak basis. What do you have in your rocket system? Some measly 5-6 terabytes? And what is the result? All my appearances - in the trash can. We are dealing with completely different possibilities for self-organization of electronics. No words, no words... “Well, not 5-6 terabytes,” the chief designer joined in, “we have budgeted for the next, new systems.” How many are there? – he turned to his deputy. - About thirty, Semyon Gavrilovich. But this is also a drop in the ocean, if we proceed from the currently accepted theories. The commander interrupted the scientific debate. - Please move on to specifics. The main question is how much harm can this, he chewed his lips, choosing words, amateur performances, do to the troops and missions? Taking risks here is like death. Not toys! The author does not know what happened next at the meeting. And what decision was finally made. Or will it still be accepted? And at what level...
 Maybe we'll find out.

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