Top Game

12

Sixth day of the month of the First Thunders

Ka-Yi in the constellation Ma-Keyin, two points from the Sun

The rule of the lunar day: “When talking to a person, remember that you are talking to yourself, and therefore, if fate keeps you strict, do not curse her: she is from despair.”

"Stellar Rivers Pilot" reports:

“One of the difficult stations of the stars, requiring the ability to be responsible for actions, the desire to understand your interlocutors, the ability to put up with a well-deserved punishment, the talent to draw the right conclusions from the lying rake. The day best suited to reverently listen to the heavens and their signs. Allow yourself to dream, listen and take a break from business ... By sharing your work with those who are nearby.

Antrea, Island, City Watch Headquarters,

morning watch

The re-amer's bored gaze followed the lanky figure to the exit from the office, waited until the heavy door, strainingly creaking on its hinges, closed behind the secretary, and returned to viewing my scribbles. Half a minute later, I heard a sad sigh and looked up from the sheets of paper on which I was diligently drawing out the lines of the protocol.

Vig read it again, paused, and sighed again.

- Something is wrong?

What were you thinking about when you wrote?

“Absolutely nothing,” I said honestly.

And what can you think about, getting up at dawn and spitting through half the city in the damp morning fog, yawning so that at some moments it seems: just a little more, and the jaw will dislocate from the joint? ..

What is an island? Land surrounded on all sides by water. And our local Island is a fortress on a piece of land in the middle of Lavuola. More precisely, this gloomy building used to be a fortress, in wild and hectic times, and now it has acquired a completely secular look. Whig even ordered (in accordance with the wishes of the High Amiter, of course, although evil tongues say that Her Majesty did not like the dull, moss-covered walls) a new cladding, of pale pink granite. Looks lively. And, of course, it's a source of ridicule. But only for those who have never been to the Island. Not as a defendant, not as a witness. As for me, I managed to try all possible roles. And today he came to fill out official papers. Showed up as early as possible. And they also scold me for this ... More precisely, not for this, but for

“You can see it,” Wiger Ra-Ken summed up grimly.

— Yes, what's the matter?

I start to get nervous, and my fears are fully justified when the answer sounds:

Why do you write the set phrases differently every time? Is it impossible to learn? You didn't seem to have memory problems when you were young.

I pretend like I don't understand what you're talking about.

What does "different" mean?

- Well, for example ... - Vig glances first at one sheet, then at the second. “Here: “female adolescent,” and there: “female adolescent.”

- AND?

Why not use the same word?

“Okay, I’ll be more careful,” I agree, just to get things done as soon as possible. But you can’t fool an old friend so easily: gray eyes are filled with reproach.

- You will, of course. When you re-write the second copy.

- What?! Vig, are you kidding me?

- Not at all. Re-Amiter, with the face of a life sentenced to hard labor, is lounging in an armchair at his desk, on the other side of which I am smearing paper with ink.

“But that’s another half an hour of work for me…”

- I know. And believe me: I'm not happy about this, because all this time I will sit next to you.

“There is absolutely no reason for you to sit here,” I begin bypassing the enemy from the flank. “It’s better to go home to Lelia, she’s probably tired of waiting!” She's so alone...

"Ray, don't try to be better than you really are," they scold me severely.

But the fight isn't over yet.

- I'm good, you think? So good that there is simply nowhere better to be?

“Ray…” Vig's thin lips purse mournfully. - Don't bother with words.

I frown in disgust:

- You're nitpicking! Can't I?

- Can. But only when you redo the second copy of the protocol and write it - I hope, without blots! - third.

“Three copies?

I'm horrified. Played, of course, because the rules are very well known to me. And my great-grandfather, Lennar Ra-Gro, installed them, for which the fellow citizens were grateful to him, and direct descendants slandered what the world was worth.

However, I cannot but admit that the idea was and remains sound. The hes identification protocol consists of answers to a set of questions that never change. Of course, it would be easiest to answer once, and create the required number of copies in a magical way, but ... sad consequences. And one fine day, Lennar came up with the following trick: but I’ll fill out the forms not once, but several times, and every time - like the first time. You look, something will come to mind that was not included in the initial protocol ... They say that this practice helped him. Well, it pleases: at least someone was benefited. As for the descendants in general and me in particular, we only suffered from the old man's eccentricities. I had to kill a myriad of time for chewing the same porridge in several visits. And now, just finished with the second copy of the report on his trip to the fish market, and Vig has already found an error. So I'll sit on the Island until the evening. And my friend is with me. And he has a sick daughter at home ...

“Slu-u-u-u-u-shay…” I squint conspiratorially. - Tell me right away where I made mistakes, and the third protocol will definitely be similar to the first! Yes, and the second one too.

Re-amiter rubbed his cheek and grinned wickedly.

— No. You will not get it.

- I'm from good intentions, don't think!

- I know it's good. But rules are rules, and they apply to everyone, but for you - in the first place.

Breaking into a smile:

“Because I am hope and support?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Vig corrects.

Sighing indignantly, I get back to work. But not for long:

- Tell me at least, a lot of misses?

Gray eyes laugh.

- So, say! What are you worth? And you won't break the rules.

- A little.

— More precisely?

- Very few. Vig looks away, but in vain: I already realized that I was the victim of a joke.

- Well, how much?

Actually, just one mistake. The one I mentioned.

— Aha!

Triumphantly I toss the pen to the ceiling. Although light, it still falls back, staining the tabletop cloth with a scattering of ink drops.

Vig winces.

- Again shat! I'll be completely broke with you soon.

— Don't worry, dan re-amiter! - soothing sounds from the doorway. - New furniture will be delivered to you at the first request. Due to the young man present here, of course!

I close my eyes in the hope that I was imagining. I open my eyes again. No, there are no ghosts today. The weather isn't right for ghosts today. But the person I least of all wished to see at such an early hour, neglected to take care of his own health and made a trip from the shopping districts straight to the Island - to the holy of holies of the Antrea City Guard.

Balding, with a noticeable belly, enviably clear-eyed and smiling, Callas Ra-Dien is only four years older than Vig and me, but looks like our father or at least uncle. A very kind and forgiving uncle, which is completely untrue. Because a spiritually weak person would not be able to control all the commodity-money flows of Antrea, and even the surrounding provinces, if not more. But with regard to the health of the body, Kallas has nothing to envy: neither the shooter, nor the swordsman. Either he was sick in childhood, or the ancestors somewhere left something unfinished, but the head of the institution called: “Doing business without loss. Tips and Instructions" prefers to spend his days with all possible conveniences. And the fact that he personally appeared in this office speaks volumes. But not in my favor.

Viger hurried to his feet, bowing briefly but respectfully. Callas waved his hand.

— Come on, dan re-amiter! What ceremonies can there be between us? Look, some people won’t even tear their ass off the chair to say hello to an old sick person ...

- Old ... Who would say!

I grumble, but get to my feet nonetheless. If only because, among other things, Ra-Dien is the main donor of funds for the maintenance of the shelter for the weak in spirit and my employer, sadly.

“What urgent business has brought you to us, dan Kallas?”

Politeness in Vig's voice is so tightly intertwined with curiosity that it is just right to laugh at a child who still lives in the soul of a stern officer of the City Watch. But personally, I will not laugh. Not now, not later. Firstly, because I myself can not consider myself an adult. And secondly, it looks more like I have to cry, and bitterly.

“Just one thing, dear dan, just one thing!” And it has already been wasting your precious time for more than an hour due to its unfortunate inattention!

Ra-Dien's look remains the same penetratingly kind, but you should not be deceived: dan The adviser is furious, moreover, thoroughly.

- Oh, you're talking about it! Vig nods in understanding. “Actually, nothing serious happened and…”

“Let me judge for myself what is serious and what is trifle.

Callas's voice is sweet as honey syrup, but the Re-Amiter cuts off, as if he was severely reprimanded by Her Majesty herself.

“Of course, dan.” Another short nod.

“Can I exchange a few words with this… young man?” - The question was asked not because the questioner needs permission, but in order to make it clear: he went out of the office. Of course, not so rude, but the essence of this does not change, right?

Viger was never known for being slow-witted and, chasing a step, went to the door, and from the threshold he turned around and winked sympathetically at me, suspecting in what direction the further conversation would flow in the most protected from eavesdropping and peeping room of the Main post of the City Guard.

Ra-Dien waited a quarter of a minute - just before all the sounds in the corridor died down - and leaned his palms on the table exhaustedly. Three long, measured breaths, designed to restore breathing and restore calm to the mind, and imperious and harsh flies in my direction:

- Move a chair!

I am following the command. Dan The adviser sits up, cautiously, as if afraid to spill the contents of his body, and slightly pulls the tight collar with his fingers.

“I hate these formal attire!”

I stand with my arms crossed over my chest and listen as Kallas complains for the next couple of minutes about everything that comes to his mind: about the styles of clothes, about the weather, about the royal chef who did not finish the shrimp, about the rising cost of timber and other such things. troubles that occupy a business person from early morning until late evening. Yes, and at night too. Having dedicated the office environment to all the possible reasons for his bad mood, Ra-Dien returns to the first and most important one. To me, that is.

A look as golden as the spring sun clings to my face:

— Your behavior, dan Raiden, goes beyond all limits.

— What exactly do you not like, dan Kallas?

- What were you doing last night?

- What I thought was necessary.

- Can you count? - Blond eyebrows slightly raised. “I didn’t know, I didn’t know ... And if you put aside the jokes, Raiden, I’m not just dissatisfied. I'm furious.

- I see.

You put your life in unnecessary danger. He took risks without thinking about the consequences.

“But nothing happened!

- This time, yes. And the next one? The ballig won't be able to pull you out of all the holes you try to fall into.

- I'm not trying!

It's pointless to make excuses when you admit your guilt. But you can try to be rude. Yes, just in case. In order not to lose the skill.

Callas shakes his head.

- Yes, you don’t try anymore, you just fall! You grew up a long time ago, Raiden, and you still act like a careless boy ... You can’t do that. You are invested with too much power.

- Power? I flare my nostrils indignantly. “An annoying gift that causes more inconvenience than anything else!”

“Just because it’s not convenient for you personally, it doesn’t mean that everyone else can’t benefit from it,” Ra-Dien remarks dryly.

- Oh yeah! In terms of benefits, you are a great connoisseur with us! Where can I go, not far away!

“I’ve always been amazed at how strange self-conceit and self-doubt coexist in you. You really stop at one thing, be kind!

- Why?

- To make it easier for me.

- Easier - what?

“To determine once and for all how to treat you: as a worthy person or as a nonentity,” Kallas finished his thought with a gentle smile.

I swallow the barb, but it's not because I can't respond appropriately. I can't do anything else. I don't know how to treat myself. On the one hand, I can do something and I am quite proud of what I have achieved. On the other hand… There is nothingness, even if my wife does not want to have anything to do with me.

Will there be more insults?

Clear eyes sincerely sympathetic:

- Are you in a hurry to go somewhere?

- I'm in a hurry. Finish protocol.

“Ah, that’s… I won’t interfere with you. But first we need to discuss your whims and my lost profits.

- Lost?

I shrug my shoulders, because a thin and very cold trickle of sweat runs down between the shoulder blades.

“With yesterday’s ‘rescue of the dying’, you disrupted my negotiations with merchants from Ar-Habbat.

- And why is that? Should I have attended them?

“I have an undeniable right to use your services without notice, remember?

- Sorry.

Ra-Dien throws up his hands:

- And it's all?

- Few? Do you want me to get on my knees?

“Your knees are of no use. As well as from you in general. For a broken week you will spit on the ceiling, and I will take the rap for two? I will remember it for you, be sure!

- No doubt.

Will remember. And not just once. There has never been a chance that the slightest of my oversights went unpunished.

“And in order to spoil the upcoming vacation, I’ll tell you right away how you will pay me. - The smile becomes utterly pleased.

I sigh deeply:

- Tell.

- Amir's daneke is going to descend on Antreya.

- WHAT?! Again?!

Kallas, blissfully squinting, enjoys my confusion.

- Not again, but again. She does business, unlike some.

Just don't say that...

And you will accompany her. All the time in the city. In order to provide services, so to speak.

"You won't do that to me...

- I'll do it. Or rather, he has already arrived: she has been notified and is eager to get to Antreya as soon as possible.

- Callie...

- What? “Even a childish nickname cannot make the Councilor relent.

“Anything, Callie, just… Not this torture!”

- This is not torture, but communication with a very nice woman.

- To whom she is cute, and to whom ...

“Stop whining, Raiden! The verdict is final and not subject to appeal.

- You hate me, don't you?

I try to portray repentance and indignation with all my appearance at the same time.

- How did you guess? - sarcastically Ra-Dien.

Callie, this is cruel.

- And leaving me alone with the southern snakes - is it merciful ?! That's it, I'm done! I'm giving you three days to improve your health. And stock up on patience in advance: it will come in handy!

- Callie...

“Raiden, I really hate to say this, but… If you continue to act imprudently, I will have to keep you on a leash.” And very short. You're a smart guy and you know what's what. Be a little more serious. Just a little, I'm not asking for much!

- Good.

- I can not hear!

— As you wish, dan Counselor! I pronounce each word clearly and loudly.

Ra-Dien rises from his chair.

“It’s much better this way… You don’t need to see me off. Get back to your writing.

- Yes, Dan.

"And don't look at me like I've taken your sweets away!" I don't ask for more than I can deliver.

- I know.

Is three days enough for you?

For a moment, there is concern in Callas' voice. True, he cares first of all about himself and the well-being of his affairs.

- Yes.

- Right?

- I'll do my best.

- And just try not to apply! Your mother is already waiting for you.

I smile wryly. Waiting and loving, I guess. And how my mother knows how to love ...