Corporation

6

I got the capsule by the window, but what's the point - the southeastern branch most of the time went through the tunnels, and I didn’t have time to catch the rare glimpses of night lights overboard, so as soon as the train turned behind Verdun, I immediately unscrewed the transparency of the walls capsules to a minimum, touched the pump sensor, which was burning with expectancy, and immediately fell into a dead drug sleep until the very arrival.

The informant who woke me coldly said that it was already five in the morning, 12 minutes remained before arrival. Sleeping under sedatives is still a pleasure, every time you wake up refreshed, like after a cup of strong coffee, but your head is still plaguey, as if you were sleeping in an utterly suffocating room, and even in a wet suit.

Turning off the privacy of the capsule and looking around, I did not notice anything suspicious. The first-class passengers fiddled with their briefcases with a displeased look, someone already, out of habit, put on a respirator face mask, clearly in a hurry to get out. Let's follow their example, plastic make-up is suitable for face recognition systems in any light, it may well seem to a living person with an oblique look that a barely noticeable doll-like pallor or a slightly plastic sheen on the face of a capsule neighbor looks unhealthy - in our time and much less will require immediate calling the stewards. As the saying goes, it's better not to jump on the rampage.

And so, well, yes, a law-abiding citizen complies with the regulations, not risking once again exhaling his insufficiently sterile fumes into the public air recirculation system, reliable, but still not giving a 100% guarantee. Look, I didn’t take off my gloves in the cabin! With a deliberate kneading movement, my fingers interlocked and disengaged, finally distracting strangers from my deliberately sleepy eyes behind the glass of the visor.

The train emerged from the last tunnel near Innsbruck itself, for a couple of seconds a rivulet winding over the stones appeared to immediately hide behind the honeycombs of the landing stage. Arrived. Clenching the treasured gas cartridge in my fist, I imperceptibly threw it under the seat and only after that I left the capsule. You need to cover your tracks carefully.

Carefully moving forward while maintaining social distance, I was once again glad that I did not have to take a wardrobe trunk with me. Here, perhaps, you will lose another hour of time before you comply with all the formalities, inspections, inspections, biopassports, and what do you have here so suspicious in ampoules? And that’s the whole point – wait for your turn, bring your shoulder to the scanner, wait until the pump exchanges the immune passport data, and go through the gates of biosensors and walk around within the allotted perimeter.

Listening to myself, I realized, not without surprise, that I still did not feel anything. Know, pumped me up to the most do not indulge. However, let's hurry up, this happiness is not for long.

Having safely left the station building, I immediately dived into the nearest archway, confidently making my way along the previously memorized route to the bridge to the other side. The anarchy of private developments still persisted there, where the hardworking municipality with its scanners did not reach in the struggle for the health of citizens. On the bridge over the Inn, of course, I was once again checked by the gate leading upstairs, flashing green more in surprise than with desire. Wow, not local, and quarantine restrictions do not apply to him. Looks like he often dangles here, he designed everything as it should a long time ago.

So, and here is the same church. I remember ten years ago my brother and I spent the winter here. Skiing, Tyrolean refugios, baths, taverns. Ah, there were times.

The key was in place - the first door from the spiral staircase on the second floor to the left, next to it is a mini-safe with a simple combination lock.

Inside it was warm and cozy, it's time to lie down and even sleep from the road, and if in my place the one I pretended to be, he would have done just that. Alas, my journey has only just begun.

The first thing I did was rip the pump off my shoulder. She squeaked in surprise and turned off. Watching her body writhing in the coals of the fireplace, I took out an antidote applicator from the box, sticking it behind my ear. As soon as it works, it will disappear by itself. The face immediately began to prick unpleasantly. That is great. From now on, I will again be myself, and not a carrier of a set of recommended immune responses unfamiliar to me.

Although, if you look at it that way, that's what brought me here.

And here is my face in the mirror. In fact, it almost looks like it. Especially this inopportunely appearing feverish blush on the cheeks. Now my way to the city is booked. Actually, in any city north of Tunisia. I didn’t really want to, I’m not a fucking bioterrorist because of the Urals.

The bag with things was stocked up in advance, thanks to the well-coordinated work of the emergency escort team, it remains to change clothes and you can move.

Thermal underwear for ordinary jeans, a turtleneck, a hat, a light jacket for the salon, of course, gloves and a respirator mask - so as not to unnerve the traffic cameras once again. The rest we will put on upon arrival. A completely different person came out of the apartment, even the gait has changed, no camera will recognize it.

The car was waiting for me right around the corner. A charge in both directions, the only unfolded chair is covered ahead of time with a disposable cover. Caring local car sharing. But all this is in vain, this car will not return to the park any more - the driver grunted annoyedly when I covered his control panel with an external controller. The autonomy of car drivers is especially necessary in the mountains with their difficult terrain and unstable communications, the easier it is to hack them. In about two hours, perhaps, they will already start looking, but that's enough for me.

The car immediately started moving. Without even waiting for me to enter the coordinates and buckle up, and without even giving a preliminary lecture on the need to use a mask and gloves throughout the journey. But without asking, I turned on some local conversational radio, which began to broadcast to me in German with an indescribable Tyrolean accent about the successes of the international mission "Artemis", which in fact the magician Elon Musk personally takes out. Yes, and let him talk, I still can’t sleep anymore - I have to look around, and besides, we’ll drive exactly a hundred kilometers here, in an hour, perhaps, we’ll turn around.

The driver, meanwhile, successfully entered the unusually empty track that stretched along the entire length of the Inn valley. Once upon a time, a continuous line of wagons crawled in the right lane. Now, when at first diesel engines were banned, and then the land border with Suisse was closed, there was nothing to carry here. Yes, if you think about it, all the villages west of Innsbruck are already half empty. What are people to do there? Re-learn how to graze cows? I don't think.

The borders were closed four years ago, since then it has been quiet here. And if the first year or two there was still some hope, then after the outbreak of the “black death” in neighboring Liechtenstein in December 22, even the most confident that everything would soon return to the old rails began to gradually grease the skis towards flat Austria, along the way, completing immune passports and drawing up a relocation grant from the European Union.

It's lucky that the roads are still being cleaned here. Or maybe there was just no snow in the valley for a long time, warming is warming. I immediately began to turn my head, looking for the nearest peak. No, well, everything is upstairs, as it should be. Not that I had any choice, but at least with this it would be better without problems, otherwise on foot I will soon be no walker.

He listened to himself again. No, I still don't feel anything. Yes, it's for the best.

The driver obediently turned off the road into the tunnel to the south. Wave your hand to Tyrol when we meet again. Now all the way with serpentines. I remember that once here on Saturdays in the morning a string of mobile homes with German Bundesnomers from those who wanted to ride on the weekends lined up, sometimes from the night they stood until the very exit to Neuschweisstein. Now it was so empty here that the rare oncoming car seemed akin to the Flying Dutchman - a bad ghost in the morning haze, who really wanted to wave his handkerchief for good luck.

Seems to be starting to fade a little.

I took out the treasured capsule from my pocket and, chuckling, swallowed it. Third. That's all.

Silent Ischgl flashed through the window almost imperceptibly to the eye - just a couple of lights in the windows, somewhere at the very top stretches the only coal smoke from the chimney. There were times when in such valleys in calm weather the smog spread to the very bottom, sliding in dense layers along the banks of the Inn. Yes, there “were”, consider, in the winter of the nineteenth year, before the Covidla itself, satellite photos were sent to each other, from here and from the north of Piedmont. Like, look, we pollute no worse than China. Where did it all go.

The serpentine, meanwhile, was picking up steeper and steeper, gradually turning into a mountain path barely covered with asphalt, on which you can’t part together anymore. The driver slowed to a snail's pace, blasting the engines in turn as they slipped. Here it is, like her, the village of Fimbatal.

Seeing a figure coming towards me from under the trees, I decisively slammed the emergency stop sensor above the dashboard. We've arrived.

The greeter silently stood aside, waiting for me to change into mountain clothes, after which he silently threw me the keys to the snowmobile and immediately climbed into the cabin. The car had to be driven back to the north and there carefully dropped into the Inn.

- Where is the technology?

A gloomy nod towards the nearest coniferous thickets. Does he speak German at all?

- Everything was agreed there?

- Yes.

The side window climbed up without further comment, and the tires rustled along the asphalt, painfully turning around in three steps. A minute later I was alone.

It's for the best. Who knows how much I managed to inherit. But let's not worry about others, let's worry about ourselves.

So, we have an hour left before the sun comes out.

After checking that the board was in place, I started the snowmobile, pulled the throttle, listened, like norms, and hurried up the slope. On the way it would be easier and not so steep uphill, but I remembered this area well from the old days, we can handle it, and time is now more valuable than safety.

Fifteen minutes later, I had already made it to the top station of the cable car, from where I had a view of the famous Ischgl bowl. It was amazing to observe these places without a single trace of a snowcat comb, without a single zigzag of virgin lands lovers. Only the wide tongues of avalanche descents slashed the purity of the untouched snow cover. This is such a unique skitour.

How long have the lifts been out of service? It turned out that it was almost five years. It turns out that the locals are smart enough not to meddle here, if you fall asleep, consider yourself a khan. The warmed snow stream in a minute, cooling down, freezes into stone, even if the depth above you is only a meter, you are still a corpse.

And for some reason I climb there, on my own head.

Stopping in the shade to catch his breath, he took off his glove, spreading his fingers. Fingers were trembling, blurred in the eyes.

Yes, it's a bad thing.

Thermal underwear is probably already through. And I'm not even at the top yet.

The snowmobile roared towards the east side of the ridge. Here, in general, not for long, seven hundred meters of height difference, if I remember correctly.

The main thing is to do everything quickly. The gloomy sky was already brightening ahead.

Half an hour later, I was already standing on the coveted ridge next to the “duty free run” sign. She made me laugh a long time ago. Somehow I did not think that behind this mountain is already Swiss. Human topological cretinism has given rise to a joke - to ski from one country to another. In summer, go and walk here.

They did, I corrected myself mechanically.

Phew, how in the sweat something shibat. I literally felt a trickle of sweat along my neck.

Leaning against the isotonic bottle, I sucked it to the bottom. I need to throw in some more calories, yes, I feel like I'm just going to vomit, which is good.

So, let's not waste time.

Fastening the crepes and tugging at the straps of the backpack to make sure it wasn’t loose, I started, looking around, the countdown mechanism.

Yes, in general, the snowmobile stands in such a way that it’s better not to think of it, it will go both ways at once.

Ten minutes.

Well, well, let's go.

Pukhlyak crawled, but kept, if you know how to turn over correctly.

Even unspent, the track was still here, right below me. Curling like a flexible snake along the snowy wall, embracing the narrow bowl of the southern slope, going down like a funnel to Samnaun. The main thing here is to do everything thoroughly, cleanly, without tricks.

At the second turn, I still made a mistake, went sideways too late, breaking the edge belatedly - I had just drawn an arc normally, and now I was already being dragged backwards along with another ten linear meters of a snow wall.

There was nothing left to do but to turn around in a jump nose down the slope, accelerating around the mini-avalanche arranged on his own head.

Well, mini or not mini, we'll find out a hundred meters below. There was no time to even turn around now.

There will be a narrow neck down there, after which a convenient cliff to the left begins. The main thing is to go through this neck, let everything above go its own way - in a straight line.

The wind whistled in my ears.

Just don't fall.

Passing the arc of the turn, I arched, almost touching the snow with my elbows. His eyes darkened with effort. Come on!

I still plucked the edge, running into a polished area of ​​ice licked by the winds. The southern slopes are like that. Already sliding on the fifth point and raising clouds of snow dust torn off from the crust, I was completely blind, now from the sun that had come out from behind the peaks. I was surrounded by a sparkling white veil of a halo in which it was impossible to navigate, only to stick the anchor of the board as hard as possible into the surface sliding under me in the hope that something would stop me ...

The impact was so strong that I was thrown upwards like a spring, I barely had time to fold up before I landed back in the powder, fortunately, back first.

Air. It felt like it was gone from my lungs forever.

It’s dark in the eyes, but at least it doesn’t hurt anywhere, which is good, but the nausea that rises to the throat and the salty taste on the tongue is bad.

I tried to move, but the effort had no effect. Either it still failed, or I finally broke down. In both cases, I'm probably a guaranteed corpse.

In fact, for the time being, only the forced ventilation of the mask kept me afloat. The murmur of the pump was the only sound that came to me from the surrounding cottony reality.

Although no, somewhere in the distance the characteristic rhythmic rustling of the edge about the ice crust was heard. The rustle was getting closer.

Trying to remember if the avalanche beacon was activated, I tried to move again with a groan of effort. No, nothing still hurts, but my efforts did not bear any fruit either. Apparently the back. The turtle did not save, with such a fall.

So that's it.

But here the serpentine of the edges was interrupted, and the crunch of footsteps was already busily heading towards me. Here one of the two, either their own or others. I automatically found the capsule of the second premolar with my fang. If anything, in a second, my blood will turn into an extremely effective biosolvent.

With a jerk they pulled me out of the ditch where I was stuck, and with a jerk they put me on my feet.

You have to, whole. Luckily I got stuck like a cork in a bottle.

My Savior was like me, like two drops of water. The same mask, the same jumpsuit, even the board is identical. Conveniently.

How long did you set the timer for?

English pretty much gave him Spanish, although no, rather Catalan.

- Ten minutes.

“Cap de suro, we’re barely on time, it’s like Catalan.” “Rapido, get up and down the slope. There are three hundred meters and to the right, there is a barely noticeable path to the side. Don't miss?

- I won't miss. What are you?

“Well, you partially lowered the avalanche yourself,” a hollow chuckle, “so there is a small supply. Kagabandurris are already flying on their helicopters, we need to take them further.

- Are you okay?

“Better than you, cool doll.”

Oh, thanks.

“Can you drive, ombre?”

- I'll manage.

- Well, adeu then, when you get there, choose any entrance, I will find you.

Any entry?

But the Catalan doppelganger had already gone. And then it blew behind me.

Turning around, I watched, not without pleasure, a fireball rising behind a rocky ledge. My snowmobile, you see, was loaded to capacity.

We need to dump, now the rest of the slope will come here.

Pulling the crepes - it seems to be in place, and the board is intact - as I exhale, I turned myself down the slope, immediately picking up speed. My shadow, crouched on the leading leg, glided beautifully in front. Good for her. Unlike me, the shadow did not have a head in which the heartbeat would pulsate, and there were no veins, through which the flames were already walking with might and main. In fact, my feelings by that moment were no longer very different from what I would have felt, after all, having split the dental ampoule.

Beautiful green circles dance before my eyes, each stretched tendon burns as if they were wrapped around the pegs of some sadistic musical instrument, my legs do not want to obey at all. If I had an extra bump at that moment, I probably would not have had the strength to work it out normally. I tritely pulled with my back forward one large arc, where ordered, not trying to do anything more heroic, and only in the voice of a howl from burning calves.

Crap story, in such a state to ride.

However, I still managed to see the turn in time. Indeed, a barely visible path. Well, it’s logical, it’s not for me to go to the village, even if it has been empty for many years, who needs it now, your forest duty free.

Having traveled literally a few tens of meters across the virgin lands, I finally got stuck. Unfastening the board, already a clean somnambulist, without looking, I popped forward, trying to figure out where to go next.