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UNDERGROUND 134
Going to bed in a new place, Pustovalov tried to think over Victor's story and the events of the last hour, but the nauseating sweetish smell creeping from the toilet did not allow him to concentrate. The fact is that he was familiar to Pustovalov, but entangled in a web of hectic thoughts, he still could not remember him.The only source of light - a wide doorway covering the silhouette of the new dad - to remind everyone who now controls their lives and nightmares. Pustovalov once again noted that this ancient instinct worked perfectly for Kharitonov - he was born not only to crap in small ways, his real vocation is world wars, famines and Egyptian executions. His unconscious hatred for humanity, which has developed protective mechanisms in the form of pushing such individuals into marginals and evil clowns, is also understandable. But it seems that in times of crisis, protection failed. And only now, looking out of the darkness at the new pope, Pustovalov finally remembered this sm
UNDERGROUND 135
Only now it became noticeable what kind of silence all around. The guards watched in silence, and even his former group from the gallery - both the joker and the "lamb" and Gennady at the gate at number four.- Prove to me, to the rest, but most importantly to yourself, that you are not a lost person, Sanya. Prove that you can not only harm. The choice is simple.– What do you need?- Be like everyone else.Pustovalov looked around, took off his soaking wet tunic and everyone saw the perfect relief torso, the beauty of which was disfigured by a monstrous vertical scar from the heart, going under the trousers to the groin.Kharitonov fixed his eyes on the scar for a few moments, then looked into Pustovalov's eyes and nodded.Pustovalov took up his trousers, but at that moment there was a beep, which usually sounded at the end of the working day.- What. Kharitonov turned around.A swamp man stood in front of the entrance to the room.“There is a meeting today,” the man announced and sh
UNDERGROUND 136
But then Pustovalov thought for the first time, who are they still praising, if all the leadership is here, and there are no more people left on the planet? Is it really this first technocrat who looks like a top manager? Doubtful. Considering how this type was spread out in a kimono, it seemed more like a cruel, touchy and mentally unbalanced tyrant.Thinking about this, Pustovalov raised his eyes higher and for the first time noticed that the walls of the room narrowed slightly, so that the huge glass at the bottom of which they were, rather, had the shape of a flask. Waves of darkness still swayed above. No, there was nothing new in it, except for a slightly breathtaking sense of depth. As if above him, in the immediate vicinity was the ocean with billions of tons of water, capable of crushing in an instant.But he was no less interested in a round gallery, located about five meters from the floor, and if you strain your eyes, then above the second row of dim lamps, you could see t
UNDERGROUND 137
A man in a black kimono rolled out into the corridor at the tail of a few leadership, which was quickly smashed by electric cars, silently sliding over a carpet as endless as the Black Sea. A blond-haired young man who looked like a hare and a girl with an attractive, forgettable face of a TV presenter approached the man left alone, who was not supposed to have an electric car, with a guilty look.- Idlers! - Shouted at them "kolobok" in a kimono, grabbing the young man by the blond tuft. “Were you chilling again, monkeys?!The young man obsequiously giggled and, having received a slap on the back of the head, he imprinted on the girl.- Tomorrow at ten be in the hall with a bucket of manure.- With a bucket of what? The young man was surprised.- Dung, cudgel! We go to the people, so to speak. Julia, and you pick up something proletarian for me. Gucci is there...- Why manure? - The guy did not let up.- You'll find out tomorrow."So where can I get it?"The gingerbread man in the ki
UNDERGROUND 138
But this round remained for the character - the look of Mirzakarim Viktorovich, which she caught a glimpse of in a mirror image when she got up from the sofa, was aimed at her ass.“Why the hell are you wearing a kimono, Mirzakarim? - Suppressing hostility in his voice, the man noticed and, without waiting for an answer, disappeared behind the door. - Come here!Although the office was impressive, it still betrayed in its owner a person accustomed to stingy budgets accountable to taxpayers. Unlike the rest of the block - no expensive woods, painted ceilings and other vulgarity. A purely functional table from Ikea, comfortable “retro” chairs in the style of the seventies, landscapes instead of icons and portraits. And already the most complete sacrilege - a framed photograph of the family on the table with the same girl in a sweatshirt and jeans, at whose ass Mirzakarim Viktorovich lustfully stared. But the ventilation in the office was excellent. It seemed to the man in the kimono tha
UNDERGROUND 139
- Four or five. I do not remember. Sign in.Mirzakarim Viktorovich put his finger on the scanner, the door slid to the side, they entered, and immediately saw an incredibly seductive girl in a short sailor moon dress. She sat on a swivel chair by a light panel that simulated the snowy Alps outside the window, her legs crossed and her arms folded across her chest.This girl was Katya.Malek, looking at her, stood up in his tracks and began to smile like an idiot. His gaze rested on her bare knees. Katya frowned at the newcomers.- Well, why are you frozen, there is a computer, - Mirzakarim Viktorovich slapped him on the shoulder and immediately regretted it - he wanted to wash his hands, which he did, going to the bathroom.“Hello,” Malek said, continuing to grin like a seventh grader, “great outfit.”After that, he hardly took his eyes off Katya and moved to a table in the open lobby, where there was a small laptop.- Katerina, say hello to the person. He's not a commoner, by the way.
UNDERGROUND 140
Surrounded by whirlwinds, a short, three-car electric train thundered and flew away in a silent cloud, turning into a caterpillar hastily cutting through the snowy desert.Staring after her intently, Yakov entered the stinging cloud, cracking crisply at us with his heavy boots. Taking off his hood, he took out a wide smartphone with a working navigator from the pocket of the parka, looked, squinting from the sun. A blue dot on a single thread reflected the reality of the bewitching emptiness around - the boundless field ran beyond the horizon in all directions, merging with the blue of the sky. With rare copses covered with snow cobwebs, A-shaped pillars and blackening felts of forest strips, or rivers, or rotten Russian huts. For scanty trifles, arising, as if from the void, Yakov clung to his gaze, enduring frost and evil gusts of wind in his face. He walked for the third hour, but the hardy organism still had a lot of reserves of strength. But there was almost no time left.Jacob w
UNDERGROUND 141
He flew. But it was not at all about such flights that he dreamed of in childhood. It was not like a breathtaking unhurried soaring to the admiring cries and glances of people who suddenly became ridiculous in their earthly bustle. It was like a sophisticated torture by a giant centrifuge gone berserk.A monstrous force knocked him face down, awakening an animal fear of death from a collision with any solid object, but he felt only air resistance. It was as if someone tied him by the legs and spun him around like a ball. And unlike dreams, the sensations were quite natural - inside everything twisted, responding with fiery pain, escaping with a silent scream along with the insides.However, somehow, despite the "cosmic" speed, he managed to notice the fiery hemispheres around, breathing and shooting fiery threads. The hemispheres were exaggeratedly huge, and he saw them very well, as if they were rotating with him. Hemispheres with a barely perceptible curvature could be mistaken for