Engine of Progress

Laziness, as you know, is the engine of progress. However, Jonathan Swift learned from his own experience that this was not the case. However, it wasn’t even a matter of laziness - can you get lazy here when the time traveler started chatting to him about the satellites of Mars, politics and the fact that rebel robots want to destroy his planet for some kind of gasket? It was a matter of physics. It’s impossible to get to Australia (and that’s where the first batches of this drones were made) in four months. More precisely, already in ten days. “Not impossible, just very unlikely,” would be the response of Mr. Coffecher, a mathematics teacher at the school where Jonathan studied fifteen years ago. Jonathan himself always considered Mr. Coffecher not serious enough for mathematics, much less for teaching at school, given that he did not know how much seven times three was. For the sake of scientific interest (and to at least keep himself occupied with something), Swift tried to calculate the probability that a wormhole would suddenly open in front of a ship launched at sea and took him straight to that office, or, for example, that the engineers would get something wrong, and a teleport will be built based on the deliberately incorrect drawings of the table. Jonathan looked at the resulting number once, then closed his eyes in fear, crumpled the piece of paper and deftly threw it into the trash can. In addition to the wormhole and teleport, there were other options: move the planet so that it would not interfere with the expected site of destruction; build a time machine and travel back in time to leisurely fly to Australia in a couple of never-ending years; transfer the planet to the past or to the future to avoid the meeting with robots assumed by the previous option; a warp drive that uses coffee grounds as fuel, after all! But all these ideas, like the calculation of probability, were thrown into the trash. For the past four months, coffee has been Swift's only constant companion other than his co-star Daniel Defoe. It was he who suggested the last option. Jonathan didn't bother to answer this - he had long ago realised that Daniel's words should not be given too much importance. However, out of despair, he was already beginning to think about implementing some crazy fantastic idea for a book, perhaps death would come before the problem was solved... — Maybe you and I should go to some satellite of Mars? There are all the means for this. I'll let you choose. Jonathan raised his head. It was Defoe who had finally returned from his lunch break (although it sometimes seemed to Swift that Daniel had a lunch break all day, and sometimes he was distracted by work) and was now lighting up the laboratory with his eternal ear-to-ear smile. Normally, Jonathan would not have paid attention to him, but now he had absolutely nothing to do, and it was simply necessary to distract himself from thoughts about their sad fate. — What are we going to do there together? Jonathan snorted in response. — Have a different and enjoyable time. Defoe's smile grew even wider. Swift glanced at him with a frown. They were both silent for a minute, then Daniel sighed and spread his hands indifferently. — Fine, you're right, - he said. - Don’t look at me like that, I was just trying to cheer you up. — Save your strength, soon you will have to cheer up the entire planet when humanity finally finds out that nothing worked out for us. — You take on too much, buddy. — Am I taking on too much?! The fate of the Earth depends on us! — Come on, let these Australians invent their robots, all the physicists in the world are working on this problem, and hooray, yahoo! Plus, we're great writers. — You. I can’t even write an article properly... “A problem,” Jonathan repeated to himself. Only Daniel could call the coming apocalypse a “problem”. Perhaps this is why Swift has not yet transferred to another church - someone must balance his endless pessimism. — Is it really true that everyone is completely clueless about this issue, - he sighed. — Well, you see, you and I are not the only losers! — Daniel concluded cheerfully and plopped down in his chair. There was silence for a couple of minutes. Dafoe drummed his fingers on the table, every now and then glancing at Jonathan, but he stubbornly looked at the wall, not wanting to succumb to provocations. — It’s Christmas soon... - Daniel said casually. Swift nodded sullenly. — Maybe we should ask Santa to save our planet? - he suggested weakly. Daniel chuckled. — Come on then, - he said, - I’d rather ask for a novel about travel. — If the Earth is destroyed, you won’t need it. — And if not, then very much so. — But we have nothing to offer to save the planet. — Don't drift, we have ten more days. Jonathan pursed his lips. And you can’t argue – exactly ten days until the New Year. Swift smiled sourly. Probably, Cyn, or whatever her name was, did not know what this date meant for earthlings, but on her part, choosing the day of new hopes to destroy the Earth was an extremely ironic decision. — What can be done in ten days, since we wasted the previous few months? - Jonathan responded. - We are not Russian dolls. — He was silent for a while. - Well, Russian dolls don’t work out either... — With this attitude, of course, we won’t do anything, - Defoe chuckled. Jonathan suppressed the urge to punch him in the nose, took a deep breath and exhaled. — You have a more than positive attitude, but you spend it on ranting and incessant tea drinking, - he said. — Oh, of course, tea!.. - Daniel perked up, got up from his seat and headed towards the kettle. Swift let out the heaviest sigh he could muster. He tried once again to remember why all their attempts had failed. He opened the folder with the drawings and began to lazily leaf through it, snorting contemptuously each time before turning the page. A kettle hissed in the corner. Defoe placed two cups on the table with a thud, but suddenly stopped. — Shall I pour you some? - he asked, looking over his shoulder. — Nope, - Jonathan hummed in response, not looking up from the drawings. — Next to the time machine design that inspired him the most, he made some notes, but immediately crossed them out and slammed the folder shut. — It’s all useless, - he sadly shook his head and yawned. - We simply don’t have the necessary technologies, and there’s nowhere to get them! Swift closed his eyes painfully. It was he who then managed to contact the time traveler, but was too scared and confused to think of asking him to take him to the future and throw it to their robot creation building. Perhaps then everything would have been different. — Where did you get the idea? - Daniel responded, placing a steaming mug in front of him. We haven’t looked everywhere yet. Jonathan just snorted tiredly. — I told you, don’t, - he muttered, pointing his gaze at the mug. — It’s coffee, - said Dafoe. Jonathan looked at him displeased for a few seconds, then took the mug in his hands, took a sip of coffee and closed his eyes. — You’d better sleep, - Daniel remarked. — And leave you here alone? No thanks, you'll definitely blow something up here. Defoe shrugged, recognising the truth of his words. — If there are no technologies, we need to invent them, - he concluded. Jonathan slowly opened his eyes, slowly turned his head towards him, and slowly stretched his lips into a condescending smile. — An amazingly smart idea, - he breathed out in amazement. — Well, wha? These drones somehow figured out why we are worse? — Because we are a backward race. Even horses are smarter than us. Daniel laughed. — Don't you dare say that! - he exclaimed through laughter. Swift had no idea what made him so amused, but he didn’t ask. But Defoe suddenly calmed down just as suddenly. — You know, buddy, - he began, - when I was little, my mother always told me that believing in yourself is fifty percent of success. I then, like you now, sulked and said that you won’t get far on faith alone. Once at school we were assigned to do a project in science class, and as luck would have it, I got the most difficult one. I struggled with it for a week and was already thinking about quitting - come what may - but my mother repeated every time that I would succeed. And on the last day before delivery, I suddenly thought: “Hey, there’s nothing impossible in this project, since it was assigned to such a blockhead like me!” As a result, I didn’t sleep all night, but I still completed the project and passed it with the highest grade. I believe and you can do everything - at least, write something classic. Jonathan forced out a wistful laugh, which, as always lately, turned out to be contemptuous. — It turns out that the engine of progress is self-confidence? - he chuckled. — No, - Daniel sighed, looking as if he were talking to a child to whom everything needs to be explained, at best, twice. — The engine of progress is the pressing deadlines, after which your planet will be destroyed and the creation of robots. Swift nodded understandingly. — It doesn’t help, as you can see, - he replied. - We haven’t come to anything yet. — But they invented a bunch of useful things. At least this coffee maker. Jonathan nodded again. A perpetual motion coffee maker is indeed a useful thing, but after ten days it will be of no use. — It would be better if we studied coffee, - he snorted, - and there would be more benefits. — I once dreamed that someone threw a few grains of brewed coffee into the hadron collider, - Defoe chuckled. Swift noted with surprise that the corners of his lips also involuntarily creep up. — And what happened? he asked. — I don’t know, I got scared and woke up. But overall it’s really interesting... Jonathan took another sip and made himself more comfortable in his chair - Daniel got carried away. Swift refused to admit it, but deep down he liked such meaningless conversations that had nothing to do with reality - pure sophistry, satire, profanation, grotesque and a waste of time. Lately, it was they who helped him stay afloat, creating the illusion that they were doing something smart. He was ready to write at least a whole novel about this. — Imagine if there were coffee particles instead of atoms, - Defoe began. — We would have different physics, - Jonathan replied. And sighed. - Perhaps she would have allowed us to save the Earth. — I told you coffee-leaf warp drive was a good idea! You know, I was thinking that coffee grounds are almost like water. Water molecules are not connected to each other by permanent bonds, so water easily separates into parts and just as easily sticks back together. It’s the same with coffee grounds... “Idiot,” - Swift thought with a smile. He did not tell Daniel that, firstly, this only happens with wet coffee and precisely because of the water, and secondly, it’s not entirely like that. Now he will start broadcasting something about quantum entanglement and the connection of coffee particles across any distance... Suddenly they both fell silent and looked at each other. A new idea had already been born in Jonathan’s head, something that hadn’t happened for almost a month, and therefore he couldn’t believe that this thought was worth anything... — Jonathan... - Defoe drawled, - do you think robots drink coffee? They didn't move for several seconds. In the silence that reigned, one could almost hear the work of internal organs. And then Swift jumped up, pushed the mug aside and grabbed a pencil. — So, the engine of progress, it turns out, is coffee! - Jonathan exhaled, quickly covering the new sheet in the folder with a solid wall of notes, supplementing them here and there with quick sketches. — I should have drunk ten cups of it a day, - Daniel grinned. — Why are you standing there? Get to work! We only have ten days left! If I can’t save the Earth, at least I’ll laugh at these drones. Here they are dwarfs, here they are giants... — Yes, I remember, I remember. Now, I’ll just finish my tea.