UNDERGROUND

49

Pustovalov could not understand how such huge spaces in the center of Moscow remained undeveloped. It could accommodate several shopping centers or a museum.

All this bothered him, but most of all - a corpse in a suit on the stairs in a concrete glass. Judging by the severity, lead, steel, or even tungsten could have been used in the suit. The corpse's legs were hard, there must have been plates there. And those faces above, looking through the glasses of spacesuit helmets... All this led to bad thoughts.

Under the measured murmur of a reasonable voice, broadcasting something about an expensive three-story mansion on Taganskaya with false windows and six-meter-thick walls, Pustovalov again began to fall asleep and floated this time through the tunnel.

Pustovalov wanted to see something, at least to remain sighted in a dream, but sounds dominated here. Again water and again fear. The source of the fear was now behind him. It's your turn, the thought pounded in my head. Your turn. Pusto