Читать бесплатно онлайн книгу автора  Deja vu. Love

Sergey Zybolov

Contents

1. Deja vu. Love
2. Foreword
3. Chapter 1
   1. WHITE
4. Chapter 2
   1. WHITE
   2. GREEN
5. Chapter 3
   1. WHITE
6. Chapter 4
   1. GREEN
   2. WHITE
7. Chapter 5
   1. WHITE
8. Chapter 6
   1. WHITE
9. Chapter 7
   1. WHITE
10. Chapter 8
    1. WHITE
    2. GREEN
11. Chapter 9
    1. WHITE
12. Chapter 10
    1. WHITE
13. Chapter 11
    1. WHITE
14. Chapter 12
    1. GREEN
15. Chapter 13
    1. WHITE
16. Chapter 14
    1. WHITE
17. Chapter 15
    1. WHITE
18. Chapter 16
    1. WHITE
19. Chapter 17
    1. WHITE
20. Chapter 18
    1. GREEN
21. Chapter 19
    1. WHITE
22. Chapter 20
    1. WHITE
    2. GREEN
23. Chapter 21
    1. WHITE
24. Chapter 22
    1. WHITE
25. Chapter 23
    1. WHITE
26. Chapter 24
    1. GREEN
27. Chapter 25
    1. WHITE
28. Chapter 26
    1. GREEN
    2. WHITE
29. Chapter 27
    1. WHITE
30. Chapter 28
    1. GREEN
31. Chapter 29
    1. WHITE
32. Chapter 30
    1. WHITE
33. Chapter 31
    1. WHITE
34. Chapter 32
    1. WHITE
35. Chapter 33
    1. WHITE
36. Chapter 34
    1. WHITE
37. Chapter 35
    1. GRAY LILAC
    2. WHITE
38. Chapter 36
    1. WHITE
39. Chapter 37
    1. WHITE
40. Chapter 38
    1. WHITE
41. Chapter 39
    1. WHITE
42. Chapter 40
    1. GRAY
    2. GREEN
43. Chapter 41
    1. WHITE
44. Chapter 42
    1. GREEN
    2. GRAY
    3. LILAC
45. Chapter 43
    1. WHITE
46. Chapter 44
    1. WHITE
    2. GRAY
    3. GREEN
47. Chapter 45
    1. LILAC
    2. WHITE
48. Chapter 46
    1. WHITE
    2. LILAC
    3. GRAY
49. Chapter 47
    1. WHITE
    2. BLUE
    3. GRAY
50. Chapter 48
    1. WHITE
51. Chapter 49
    1. GREEN
    2. LILAC
52. Chapter 50
    1. LILAC
53. Chapter 51
    1. GRAY
    2. GREEN
54. Chapter 52
    1. LILAC
    2. WHITE
55. Chapter 53
    1. WHITE
    2. LILAC
56. Chapter 54
    1. GREEN
    2. LILAC
57. Vocabulary

DEDICATED TO MOTHER LUBOV, WIFE ELENA AND DAUGHTER POLINA

SERGEY ZYBOLOV

^{Dejavu. Love}

Translation into English: Sergey Zybolov using translation programs

Foreword

Before setting off on a new book trip, take a small backpack from “Dejavu. Love”. Perhaps it will come in handy. So, let’s begin.

The first thing that you should pay attention to and adapt to is the few storylines in the novel, one of which is “green” — develops almost a year in advance. How and what happens is time. This is just a small copyright tip. I specifically say this in the preface, so that the reading is more calmly perceived.

The second, with unknown parts of insects or geographical names, if they suddenly come across, can be found in a special dictionary at the end of the book.

Third, this is a kind of well-known dejavu — a state in which a person feels that he had once been in a similar situation. There is an opinion, which is supported by scientists, that a possible reason for the occurrence of dejavu is a change in the way coding of time by the brain. Yes, and at the same time, the process is easiest to imagine as the simultaneous encoding of information as “two in one”: the past and the present, moreover, with the simultaneous experience of these processes. With all this, scientists say that the effect of this dejavu itself can be caused by preliminary unconscious (i.e. in a dream) processing of any information. In those cases when a person (I pay moderate attention to the word “person” rather than “person” or “individual”) in reality encounters a situation perceived at an unconscious level and successfully modeled by the brain, so to speak, close enough to real event, and there is an effect called dejavu. A similar explanation is perfectly confirmed by the appearance of dejavu in quite healthy personalities.

And the fourth is love, which still rules the world. Have you heard this somewhere? Then it remains to wish you an easy perception of the work.

Chapter 1

WHITE

Annoying drops monotonously knocked on the window, lulling the whole world with their symphony. The lullaby, performed by nature on this warm May evening, harmoniously floated in a huge, faceless, gloomy city. Heavy ghostly marble clouds slowly crept from south to north, hanging heavily over the metropolis, as if a sleepy, burly sow swollenly moved into its cozy flock for the night. And only a bright-carrot airship, which had entangled a messenger of some immensely past century, boldly added a light brushstroke of warm colors to the palette of rainy and gloomy sky. Despite the fact that this fat, helium-inflated sausage, hung soullessly in the sky, involuntarily personified a sort of “luminary”, the real energy of heat and light did not come from it, but only on the contrary, the orange object wandering, as it seemed, randomly in the celestial expanses, with an annoyingly stubborn weight, mercilessly pressed on the city, causing only unpleasant fear.

Somewhere on the outskirts of the industrial monster, a painful thunder rasped, here and there the nervous lightning zigzags sparkled. The viviparous sky, as if plucking out streams of water from itself drop by drop, martyredly squeezed out rolling natural roars. Only a muddy, vague pruning of the moon had nothing to do with the raging elements, the night light scornfully reigned over one of the tall panel buildings, on the edges of which, as if the armrests of a giant royal throne, towers towered, and calmly dozed. The bad weather was enjoying its fury, as if an awakened tiny child who woke up and falsely naughty in the middle of a night’s rest, but meanwhile, for three whole weeks or so, dusty and windless, almost sandy, land reigned in the region.

Along a brightly lit narrow street that sheltered in different colors — five-, ten — and forty-story panel cubes, slowly rolling a green passenger car of some mossy model. Suddenly he jerked sharply and stopped at the intersection at the moment when the sparkling lightning blinded the buildings, the next instant the vehicle briskly turned backwards, jerked once or twice, as if a puppet kitten choked and backs back, and gazed heavily again headed along Sixty-second street. Having completely dissolved in gray, dreary rain, the car no longer returned, turning into the next quarter.

Not a single passerby was on the evening street. Not a single one at all. In the tightly tinted windows of the first floors of buildings and in the mirror of wet warm asphalt, the useless pulsating light of the lanterns repeatedly, until a frantic phantom, was completely shamelessly reflected, and this glow increased even more, all playing with incessant drops of rain and preventing the city streets from falling into a dream. Night mood…

“Well, that’s who will say honestly and frankly — why the hell is it to shine so brightly on our deserted streets, since anyway no one should appear in the late evenings. No, really, why all this? Well, why-ee? Nobody goes anywhere, but where to go, if you can’t? It is impossible… yes, actually, and there is no need. At night, we need to rest for a new working day, which we are doing very well… and the light is on and on our health? Maybe they turn it off at night? We don’t even know if it burns at night. Maybe ask Ski or Rhonda? Although… in general, it’s a rather strange situation… strange, yeah… but, okay, you should not think about this topic. This is not our question, our business is simple, simple — work for yourself and work! Today the day is over, and tomorrow… Tomorrow will begin soon… after awakening! And again — in a circle!” — Thought Ave, trying to find a decent explanation of what is happening.

Imperceptibly approaching the end of the tenth hour of a rainy Saturday afternoon, the minute arrow mercilessly destroyed another day in fate. Before the evening verification was a quarter of an hour. In almost every window of house number twenty-four, a muffled light jealously froze, as if the building itself was also preparing for a daily roll call in order to check the Aveilable composition of residents, as it was established in this condominium.

On the twelfth floor in room A-745, the television flickered faintly. Absolutely indifferent for some time, Ave and Ski watched, like every weekend, the news program “Evening Pages” of Channel 19. But now, they immediately revived, their attention was drawn to the plot of a strange tragic event that took place in the capital of the neighboring state, the huge metropolis of Anmea*. Today at exactly noon on the central square in front of the monument to the leader of the party that has been ruling in the republic for about fifty years, two dozen ants, twenty workers staged a self-immolation act. Brought to deepest despair, the insects locked themselves in an old modest minibus, and after the friendly chanting of political slogans, the crowd gathered around, a decent number of walking ants, suddenly heard how painfully, violently and vigorously breaking a glass of bottles and bubbling liquid spilled, they broke about ten vessels, what took a few minutes. Frighteningly, part of the onlookers began to retreat obliquely, to shun, foreboding with all my heart irreconcilably unkind, all the more so as a sharp bad aroma flashed through the air, blowing on the spot… Then, overnight, the little car flared up… The screams resumed, the suicide bombers flaming and rushing about in the walls of the vehicle screamed with all their might, proclaiming one slogan after another. The language of the neighboring country, of course, was different (that’s why it is “another country” — with its own language, culture, system, etc., etc.), but still the individual words were clear to viewers, although they were carefully muffled when creating a peppered news story. The most tragic and fatal was that this terrible death, this monstrous action, was carefully planned: writing and television journalists were invited in good faith, the city authorities were officially warned, and by a strange coincidence, no one prevented such a strange form of expression of will.

Absolutely nobody! There was not a bit of any police cordon, nor fire and rescue, nor medical services on duty somewhere in the neighboring courtyard. The official cause of the incident was not announced. Authorities commented rather dryly on what happened, citing the fact that “there is no reliable information about the purpose of this rally, as well as about the condition of the victims (this should have been burnt!).” It was also surprising that the reporters of the television channel that told A-745 about the tragedy argued that the chilling self-immolation could have been arranged by the members of the Raskine sect, which was banned in Linai, which had intensified on the eve of the tenth anniversary of the organization’s activities in the Linai People’s Republic. Television people emphasized that ardent supporters of the sect have repeatedly staged similar acts of self-immolation, in squares in minibuses, in protest against political activity and the arbitrariness of the authorities.

“Arbitrariness?! Any such arbitrariness?” — reporters asked from the screen. — “Everything is in order, everything is fine! Well, except perhaps sometimes… sometimes — yes-ah… so to speak, misunderstandings, such accidents happen… And, of course, such incidents frighten the public and bring, one might say, a real panic into the calm and wonderful life of ordinary, ordinary people citizens of our country! But they, that is, citizens, that is, they-do not deserve this! The citizens of the country must be calm, confident in the future, and must work for the good of their homeland!”

From time to time, the hackers of the anti-state organization even managed to go on television on the country themselves, brazenly breaking into the satellite network of the national Linai television. In addition, the New Year’s celebration was inexorably approaching according to the Linai calendar*, with the advent of which in the regions of this huge, insanely insanely large country, the largest state on the continent, and in the nearest neighboring countries, an impulsive increase in tension was expected, the kettle of dissatisfied could boil in at any moment, therefore, the General Union of States*, in order to prevent any manifestations of dissatisfaction with the regimes that nevertheless were real, extraordinary security measures were introduced, and today’s incident itself by burning, it once again showed the insecurity of civilians from any action of anti-government organizations.

“Today, these limp individuals decided to burn themselves, having independently taken a rash step into hopeless obscurity, choosing a terrible and painful, but quick death. Instead of working for the good of our beloved state to the bottomless depths of the state, they chose to die, they went into the unknown, and tomorrow, what awaits us tomorrow? It’s not an hour, their close brothers, their ideological friends, without any stops, will begin terrorist acts, explosions, and it is still unknown what!” — with a frightening conclusion, the heated journalist completed the report.

— A-a-a-ave, listen, but what do you think, in our country, well, right here in our city, on the square, could this happen? — Ski pulled away from the hypnotic TV screen and slid audibly toward the glossy window. — You understand, yes, understand? Maybe this? I mean, ah… I mean, could ants burn themselves in our place? — Ski yawned frantically and looked to the side where the central square of the city was to be hidden behind the hopeless rows of multi-storey cubic houses.

— You see, I think so, it all depends on what forces moved the brothers who decided to take such a step, — Ave also got up and approached Ski. — After all, it is quite possible that ours will be able to do this. Who knows them? Who knows all of us, what are we capable of? Sometimes the farthest away is perceived not quite real. The world is like an illusion in which we live… I mean… — here Ave suddenly coughed, but a minute later he was released and he continued. — After all, what do I mean? I’m saying that if an event occurs somewhere, it seems to us that it does not concern us, does not concern us at all, and is unlikely to affect. It is somewhere there, on the other side of the world, in a ghostly illusion, in an indefinite distant, and we are here… Do I say it right?

— I don’t know if it’s right… Simply, this is your opinion… — Ski muttered.

— Ahh, actually, — Ave went on, not paying attention to a friend’s words, — we’re already used to having this information, news or opinion there… yes, in general, at least we’re used to almost everything was presented to us already ready… It’s like a semi-finished dish in a store, you already bought it, brought it home and it lies quietly in the refrigerator, you just have to get it, defrost and warm it up. So in our case, worker ants go to desperate measures, to sacrifice themselves… Maybe some of our individuals are also mentally ready, there is literally one step left… or am I saying something wrong? Already, it seems to me that I sleep on the go…

— Yes, everything is fine, I’m already sleeping too. That’s it, midnight, it’s time to sleep. Do you think they’re coming? Do you take these measures yourself? — Ski with an indefinite lethargy looked askance at Ave.

The conversation increasingly took on a political connotation, and on Saturday evening neither of them wanted to talk about serious topics, and, in general, politics is a forbidden topic… The question is, why did everything have to start? Dead end option.

— Ye-e-eah, how to say, how to say! Hmmm… maybe they themselves, from hopelessness, you see, Ski, from hopelessness, from a dead-end life situation, or maybe for the sake of other ants with a long sight, this is our way out, who will understand them? Look, here we are! We will be noticed and, possibly, the world will change, and it will become easier for other individuals to live! Maybe they think so?

— Listen, perhaps this way, but maybe everything is different. We don’t know for sure, and we will never know, — Ski loudly clicked on the glass with his claw. — There is also a variant such that they are simply used for ordinary mercenary purposes, like weak-willed dolls, as empty puppets, hostages of the situation, so to speak, forcibly forcing such actions. Somewhere I already saw and heard this more than once, and not two, so these are not my thoughts.

— Yes, maybe that’s so… Maybe you’re saying the right thing… I already thought about it the same way. But I thought, thought for a minute or two and immediately forgot… We are loaded with work, distracted from different thoughts… sometimes there is no time to think about life, right, a-a-a?

— That’s right, but we slowly crawled away from my main question.

— Crawled away, crawled away…

— You see, I mean — can this happen in the State? We are not some Linais there… we have a completely different State, we have a different form of government, different thinking of the population. After all, there, they have — otherwise the world is arranged!

— Maybe otherwise… We are shown one thing…

— Yes, he is completely different, this world! Or not? Although… I don’t even know what to answer… Solid questions without answers… — Ski amusedly spread his upper legs and his antennae* also moved to the beat of this movement.

— You know, Ski, to be completely frank, it sometimes seems to me that something similar happens with us, we just don’t know about all this. The country is big, and… They just don’t tell us everything. Why should we tell? — Cheered up, Ave turned his muzzle in half-turn and squinted his eyes maliciously to the side. — You understand a lot, you understand, as I do, but… to say out loud or to admit to yourself — there is no courage or simple time, always in work — there is no time for awareness, or something… Since we had such a conversation, here you are and said as I think. It’s no secret to anyone that the media… these are all newspapers, television channels… They are always regulated by the State, even in private hands… Newspapers, radio and television — as levers of control over the entire mechanism of state power. Wow, as he said! — truly surprised himself to his frank discovery Ave.

— I agree with you, completely agree! Well, we can’t do anything here, we have to swallow the “bait”. Ah-ahmm, and you’re done! We are this… We are ordinary consumers of the product, let’s say so.

— That’s right, they show and convey to us what our supreme government considers edible.

— Yeah, it is!

— The most important thing is that they support us as labor: they feed us well, give stable work, a roof over our heads, and everything else… everything else is, as it were, aside, it is secondary. Any state, our or neighboring, or even on another continent, needs simple workers who will plow and not think about anything other than work…

— Yeah, here we are.

— Yes, here we are working… It turns out that they keep us on a strict leash so that they could not jerk to the right or left to the side…

— That you hit the very point!

— There is such, I — such, I — well-aimed!

— Indeed it is. Any state needs labor, but here’s the catch — not every system can competently manage its citizens. I think a lot depends on the identity of each individual… As the ancient saying goes correctly: “If there was a neck, there would be a collar!” — the amused Ski slammed on Av’s paw and they fell silent for a while.

Chapter 2

WHITE

While Ave and Ski were talking peacefully about the physical capabilities of burning the bodies of ants — opponents of the system in various countries, Rond, diligently acting as a duty officer, turned around in the kitchen, like a crazy little squirrel in an endless spinning wheel. The young announcer in the “box” with insanely beautiful sky-turquoise eyes was completely monotonous, as if it were not a living individual, but a skillfully straightened doll model, voiced yet another decree of the country’s President Snai to tighten measures against “state criminals”. Each eleven on the streets of large cities after eleven o’clock in the evening went without any legal proceedings for hard work to the east of the country to the city of Dsiterrum-4*, where for more than a dozen years the development and processing of uranium-phosphate ores has been carried out, which meant, in fact, the death penalty, sadly extended for several working years.

Indeed, in the conditions of this distant settlement, not one of the ants could live for more than five years, with the exception of volunteers who went to a uranium plant for at least some small piece of bread, because their working and living conditions were many times better than the forced captives, but at the same time, they were also, in fact, doomed — to the volunteers, at best, the Most High was measured out for ten years. Undoubtedly, one of the attractive privileges of volunteers-uranozavodchikov was freedom of movement: they could travel for free during the blissful annual two-week vacation by electric trains, airplanes or autobuses — anywhere in the continent. This “cosmic-universal privilege”, as Ave ironically called it, they completely used to, as they themselves said, “aerate their clothes from uranium dust, and at the same time completely dispel the monotony of gray everyday life accumulated for the tense working year. “Voluntary choice”, in fact, for many was the only solution to life’s problems, since the unemployed, driven into a corner, were forced to get a job after unsuccessful attempts to find a job.

In conclusion of the usual “Evening Pages”, the announcer, again as in a pattern, reported on the seasonal recruitment of lemongrasses, technical workers from the uranium plant, who received their nickname because of the color of the uniform: protective helmets and raincoats. But now the “talking head” disappeared without a trace in the ocean of rainbow colors and on a flat screen, after a short commercial break of a new honey drink, a field of hundreds of colorful squares grew, which winked and changed color, in addition to everything, the TV a couple of times squealed unpleasantly.

— Rond, listen, let’s go quickly, report! Tv is waiting for you! — Ski shouted, calling a comrade to action.

When Rond, on duty, galloped up from the kitchen, Ave and Ski sat tensely beside the TV, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow.

They energetically extended their left forelegs on which personal tokens flaunted and looked at each other synchronously. “What? The most common nightly on-site cash verification process?” Rond carefully picked up the paws of his comrades and pulled out hard plastic tokens. “Pee-pee-pee”, the television set made matching sounds, it was a quick dial on the front panel of the attendant and winked mischievously at friends, and the cold flat white tokens drowned without a trace in the side wall of the flat monitor. Rond flicked a switch, pressed another three buttons, and the picture on the TV screen from a multi-color was transformed into a monophonic pale pink field — the test was successful.

— Well, that’s it for today! I wanted to tell you something else, literally just wanted to, but forgot… Okay, I remember — I will say then! — with enthusiastic color Rond said and traced with his right paw over his head some incredible greeting.

— Well! That’s it! That’s it! — Ave did not protest and with a smile heartily added. — As you say, my friend…

Named tokens dropped out of the television as further non-worthiness, and freed Ave and Sky rose from their seats.

— Yeah, programm-mmm, we’ll finish-sh-sh. And we have only one thing left — to drink tea. Tea, tea, tea! — said Rond.

— Tea is good! Tea is a healthy drink! — Ave supported him.

— It remains just a little bit, and in less than an hour you should lie in bed and dream! Well, or not to dream, but what to lie — that’s for sure! Although dreams are very important in our lives, so try to see them! — the tired Rond smiled wryly and scratched the mustache, where the tendril of the tendril protruded, and the phrases that had been used for days, weeks, months, years, burst out of his mouth with deserted air. The following words, however, like many others, like ancient pyramids, firmly and completely dusted their being. But it is precisely from scanty droplets that a whole ocean is accumulated, from small words, days, events, and all life consists of… — I hope… — Rond stumbled half a word, but then continued. — I hope that tomorrow morning will not overshadow our happy existence. In a couple of minutes I will set the table, and let’s come.

“Exactly, a ‘happy existence’? Is it really, this is our ‘happy existence’ that can initially be happy? Existence is living, not a full life!” — She whistled through Av’s mind and pierced with painful non-pleasantness into her heart.

— Good, good, — Ave suddenly felt dizzy, everything started to run wild in his head, he carefully adjusted the token on his wrist, twisting his eyes nervously, like a frisky oblique hare on a sunny May lawn, waiting for the mortal danger to arrive, and again approached the window pane, leaning his head against the subtle transparency that separated the world of apartments and the world beyond.

Home broadcaster — television — under a tiny, roasted claw Ski found a well-deserved reassurance and firmly-firmly fell asleep until morning.

A tired, tired, ant sadly approached the uterine bed, sullenly fitting in the right near corner of the room shelter, opposite the window, and quickly having thrown off his shirt, as if being freed from a depressing bridle, gloomy shackles holding the humiliated prisoner, lulled with a moderate pattern of a street hurricane, he fell wearily, flew into the universal world, tasting a sweet dream, the fading antennae swayed preemptively, and only a touching smile adorned the narrow-minded profile of the dying ant. A delightful delight… The weekend was squeezed and squeezed away… Packed to the eyeballs Saturday sat down precariously, slipped by an elusive snake into a bottomless time abyss. “Take it easy, get it already, without any utopias there, and stubbornly plow up to the flight of forces… without trendy cleverness, this is your destiny! Morning will take away the decadent mood, drown conventions already, drown them…” — Ski politely pinched himself and was ashamed of the drained despondency. — “No one will untie the narrow knots of fate!” The flow of thoughts, it seems, died down, but only it seemed, and he suddenly became ashamed of his helpless state: “Oooh… What can ants preempt in fate? What can do in time? What can I do?..”

Literally a minute later, exactly according to the established Charter, Rond rang out, calling for a light dinner:

— Everything is ready! Welсome! You have not forgotten about me?! You will find tea and small goodies! Let’s get smart!

— Come on, come on, um! — Ave and Ski buzzed in one voice, glanced at each other, giggled ironically between themselves and headed toward the kitchen.

In the center of the cozy kitchen there was a small artsy triangular table with neatly rounded corners — designed just for all the inhabitants of a one-room apartment — an object of Avent-garde furniture. The frosted glass surface of his countertop was slightly highlighted by built-in soft green neon lamps, creating a homely warm cozy mood. In the evening it was possible not to turn on the overhead light, but to enjoy the illumination of the table, which made tea drinking a truly homely intimate tradition.

Tea was aromaticly smoking on the table, placidly filling the entire kitchen with sweet mint freshness. “In the same way, it was always pleasantly sung in our boarding school!” — said Ave to himself. Three bright green bells hung over a table with sulkons — a simple, uncomplicated lamp. One of the glass semiprecious flowers planted in a subdued light, dissolving evening gatherings. For what purpose Rond turned it on, although not at full capacity, but only by a third — it was unclear.

All three ants carefully, so as not to accidentally get burned, poured fragrant contents from one mug to another, in a “retirement method”, as Ski quipped. Silent silence. World silence. Perhaps a little sad… You can only hear the friendly murmur of chilled tea.

Not a single sound was heard from either the upper or the side apartments. In the neighboring apartments, in the entire huge building, these minutes also enjoyed traditional tea drinking. Yes, it is in the entire forty-story glass-concrete cube. In a multi-apartment building, which, however, belonged to dozens of others, of exactly the same buildings, was known not only in the city, but throughout the country to industrialist Theik Dee. To get a job at his radio parts factory, where Rond and Ave worked for life, and a little later, Ski appeared, or a well-known automobile giant, or one of the factories of the military-industrial complex, one was enough! Just one and only! You just had to be born lucky! His workers were provided with everything necessary for a comfortable existence: they were provided with paid living space and quite decent earnings! There was only one thing left — to work selflessly without stopping paws, without stopping for a minute. Work, work and work!

From early childhood, future workers of industrial giants of Theik Dee were conscientiously brought up in specialized boarding schools. For many years, yes, it can be said for sure that for many centuries of the development of ant society, a standard scheme of caring for those who have been raised, brought up, learned, “released into life” has itself built up — their complete and absolute dedication, their work, enduring conventions. They gave birth, raised, gave a little education, plus specialized for work on a farm or enterprise. None of the inmates of the institutions knew whether they had parents or not. It was in these widespread boarding schools that young ants were inculcated with work skills as a way of life-self-sacrifice, complete and unprincipled dedication: for several long hours (for a child’s fragile, sometimes sincerely-naive consciousness — just endless) hours a day, they tirelessly wielded harsh tools, at first with naive mistakes, then — gradually developing skills, and then — “on the machine”, quickly and with genuine enthusiasm spinning the little things incomprehensible to the childish mind; growing up a bit, ants spent almost all of their “free time” (the so-called “free from work”) on an assembly line in the shops of a factory that fulfills government orders for the defense industry, it was then that they first heard the incomprehensible word “weapons”, and began to to be proud (after all, they were just told: “Be proud, you are working for a great cause!”) that they help their valiant work to their beloved Motherland in an endless and everlasting war with a hostile aggressor that was boundlessly far! Farther than it seemed to many adults, and closer than perceived by children.

GREEN

Amina woke up and opened her eyes, deaf and hard sigh-null, absorbing imaginary freshness, and immediately, literally, in one marvelous moment, plunged headlong into the magical, enchanting fairy-tale-noisy world: here and there the sonorous pale lemon grasshoppers tirelessly, vying competed in the art of chirping, as if at an outlandish festival in the resort town; somewhere nearby, a restless river was pleasantly noisy, divinely playing with water musical busting on rocky rapids, like a harp, the warm south breeze was amusingly amusing itself with young foliage, stroking, tickling fragile twigs on only full-flowing fluffy leaves, steam very young dragonflies flew audibly in front of Amina’s very nose, catching up with each other. The sun’s rays, as if on a magic piano, wrote out a cheerful melody.

Above Amina’s head, somewhere on a branch, a gray-green bird flashed something quickly in her tongue loudly in her tongue, calling on the whole world to enjoy natural beauty. Either the multilayered drowsy blanket hid Amina and didn’t let go, or an impartial objective reality — everything spontaneously alternated in a restless and so seductive sea of consciousness: a titanic ball swept diagonally from the ants head and Amina from a frightening noise she closed her eyes, an imaginary ball desperately snapped “ooh”, and obediently returned to its original place, froze… Living reality confessed and, it seems, returned to the ant. The past was revived, or the future was growing with new sticky notes, uniting, flowing colorless from one to another, and freely giving birth to a synthesized new, unknown…

Here she is serene with Ave in front of each other, and he gently and so cordially holds her claws in his paws, and something endlessly, captivatingly speaks, and speaks, and speaks without end and edge, and she, blinded by desires obsessively looks into his perky eyes and swallows in measured portions his soft story. And then there was the artistic sincere whistling of a thrush, and mixed into one outlandish dish — the aroma of blossoming apple trees, lilacs and linden honeycombs, and again this unbearable stuffiness, and sparkling sunshine, and general whistling itch, and the murmur of an unknown mountain stream, and the rustle of a live spring grassy carpet, and the light buzzing of the May beetle, followed by a pair of dragonflies chasing each other, and the fall of a strange object to the ground (a cobblestone came from somewhere, it seems), and the sparkle in the sun is amazing of silver-thread kzotic patterns that spiders had made into oblivion from early morning — all this in one, common picture, pops up in consciousness, as if an abandoned spinning skillfully hooks in a stormy river and pulls out a trusting trout with a lightning jerk — all this returns Amina to the forest clearing…

Still not completely moving away from the restless half-nap, constantly interrupted by awakenings, the ant tried to look far, far ahead and saw only bright light and unclear outlines of brown spotted trees, she struggled to concentrate on the birch, on the pebble, which began to grow with moss, on the barrel that I decided to rest on this cobblestone, but, unfortunately, it didn’t really succeed — only phantom looms loomed nervously ahead, barely reduced to a single image, as they immediately mythically bifurcated, lined up and soullessly went into oblivion, into a translucent dusty heat. Amina continued to breathe deeply, reclining, near a sprawling birch, whose puffy buds were almost completely opened, and pleasantly scented with the freshness of the cleanest young leaves, but there was no possibility to move the fellow: vague internal forces harshly and uncompromisingly fettered her, as if hopeless paralysis, and never for a moment let go from the moment of awakening. Throughout the body — a lightning-fast growing, overwhelming feeling of anxiety and inexplicable panic, disarming fear. The blackening anxiety in the rattling air convulsively, with emphasized bitterness, plotted white gagged-wide strips of the crosshair, as if at a distance of several meters from Amina was an invisible ant and shamelessly with all his might painted lime on a transparent fence.

The naive ant from this unusual mirage vision threw into a light heat. The breeze suddenly changed and Amina smelled a sharp smell of a burnt tree directly in her nose, she instantly looked away, from where an unpleasant aroma had come, but she saw nothing and no one.

“Solid nasty things! We must survive this day, then it will be easier!”

The worried ant grunted a little in the womb once or twice, and it seemed to her that a bully bird, a mockingbird, mimicked her somewhere in the bushes, Amina made another effort and tried to say something, but an indistinct dry rattle scrambled out from a dry throat.. With a habitual movement, she carefully brought the foot up first to the petiol*, then to the swollen tummy, as if checking if her treasure was in place. The round, elastic body kept a new, infinitely dear to her life.

Amina recalled snatches of anxious and nervous sleep, which she had just dreamed of. For the last couple of hours she was dozing uneasily, constantly waking up and again crying and drowning in the same dream that she had before, and this continued until she finally woke up.

“Oh, oh, what kind of strangeness of our body? The riddles are solid… the same dream, the same plot scrolls more than once? Are we doing something underreporting somewhere, or what? Or do you need to change the tactics of behavior? Something useful to learn from this dream? Several times — is it like a reminder or what? Mysteries of the mind… Maybe, a reminder that we went the wrong way, and we must return to the beginning of the labyrinth of our destiny. Well, what if it’s too late and nothing can be changed? There are different situations in life… Sometimes it seems that each of us periodically returns to the beginning of this very labyrinth, which… No, perhaps you can’t return to the beginning! Of course you can’t! Each of us returns to a certain point where he already passed, where he was already… and, now, we stand and think: ‘Well, oh, after all, the last time I went this way, and came back here again, and where do i go now Where to? It’s a vicious circle?’ There are two or three more turns… it happens that there is… and we set off again with the naive hope of overcoming this damn thing, and it tempts us to express ourselves curiously-abusively, but, okay, just — damn maze with the help of higher forces, go-go, but, in the end, we return for the third, and fourth, and twenty-fourth times to the same intersection. The question is, well, why? Yes-ah… it is asked, but no answers have been given… we need to get up and go, planting hope and relying only on our own strength… who else would answer our questions. And who will answer them, if not ourselves… means, the conclusion is that we get up, no matter how hard it is, and set off again on the road in search of truth, happiness, dreams and everything else!”

In a failed, crumpled dream, the ant sat quietly, lounging in a soft leather chair, near the tinted oval window in a new, sparkling every detail, car of a high-speed train, confidently flying through an endless wheat field. Somewhere in the distance, the gloomy outlines of the city were visible: black factory chimneys blew out puffs of smoke, it seemed, never fading, rare multi-storey buildings stuck out with bristling needles-giants against the background of other cubes-houses. With each second, the metropolis was moving more and more away from the train.

“We, like, should approach the city, go to it, and not go somewhere to distant lands, away from it…” — Amina tried to rationally think in a dream, but the composition, the gentleman swaying gently swaying, everything went away and left from an alien settlement with a pretty decent speed. — “How so?” Well, how so?” — with an upset spontaneous hopelessness sighed an ant.

The pale, soullessly sad sun disc barely peeped out from behind the swollen rain clouds, surprisingly reminiscent of a pockmarked udder cow, ready for milking, and which were so full that they conscientiously waited for only one thing — the slightest signal of divine thunder to liberally give birth to a merciless, tropical rain. Either from the fact that the glasses in the impeccably new-baked carriage were carefully covered with a reflective gray-blue film, which was applied so that the bright sunshine did not interfere with the soft-armored passengers, or from the impending hard marbling of the weather, or something else, the gloomy landscape, which was slipping measuredly beyond the borders of another world, seemed even more depressingly gloomy.

A puffy toy — a funny little elephant — a hero from a well-known old animated film — a whitish-pink color: a soft proboscis, uncompromisingly bent upward by an arc-shaped pipe, innocently called for a cheerful mood, bulging over a funny freckled blue-eyed blue in Amina’s velvet doll legs. With a cap mounted on a puffy head, the blinded-oval, insanely huge ears seemed to serve the elephant so that he could easily overcome distances, flying from place to place. At first he sat quietly and with dignity, and was the size of a militus, tiny kitten, and after a minute or two indecently inflated into the pre-business of a giant pillow. The half-asleep ant, smiling a little noticeably at the very edges of the mouth, hugged the southern fat man tightly, like the most dear and beloved animal, and, sentimentally clinging to the plush, soft, angelic, almost half-dead creature, because it swayed measuredly in time with the train, flashing hilariously strange artificial buttons of his eyes, captivating with a sparkling light, and indistinctly ambiguously mumbled under his nose, — at least, it seemed to Amina, she felt much easier, trying not to think at all about the crazy speed the tee with which the train was whistling, neither about cloudy, prickly, depressing weather, nor about what is happening outside the bad window, nor about what is somewhere out there, its incomplete report about boarding schools and even not about what awaits her ahead.

The bright, spacious car was full of passengers, everyone was sitting in the same comfortable seats as she was. Someone was dozing uneasily, sniffing nervously and loudly, whistling through the sugar holes of the little mustaches, and at the same time, anxiously moving his upper pair of paws — it seems that in ephemeral oblivion, the helpless ant tried to crawl out, climb out of some incredible blockage, subtracting his path and getting out on a saving surface; someone calmly spoke in an undertone on philosophical topics with a neighbor on the road; a pretty well-dressed elderly ant, so crimson-gently sitting in the chair opposite Amina, having buried her face in the book with her muzzle, neatly mastered a thick historical novel; two mock soldier ants in full marching uniforms, somehow strangely falling into the “business class” completely unformatted for ordinary military men, settled down comfortably, turning almost close to each other, and talked about something, actively gesticulating paws. From the side, their lively dialogue seemed rather amusing, and Amina, looking at this scene, smiled broadly.

The car door rattled loudly and drowned without a trace somewhere in the wall, plastic profile slides indifferently captured her A comedic teen ant almost flew into the carriage, dressed in a fresh, clean, as if dry-cleaned, costume of a funny doggie: a cocker spaniel muzzle curiously rose on his head, shaggy velor ears drooped limply to the mesonotum (middle back) *, upper and the lower legs reliably moved, repeating the movements of the pet. A well-dressed suit looked great on the newcomer, and if it had not been for the lie-codegter finishing element — the doll’s face above the artist’s head, then everything would have looked just fine, without any flaws. Perhaps it was necessary to think of it in some other way: to reflect and adapt so that the terry mask of the good-natured dog would be worn directly on the muzzle by the ant artist. Following the funny cocker, he literally crawled on all fours, a gingerbread man rolled in a little gingerbread man, dressed in a colorful, multi-colored suit, either a soldier or a fireman from the last century, with delicately embroidered round shoulder straps, hanging (obviously with overkill) from all sides with sparkling elaborate accelerant, like a serpentine Christmas tree, he instantly rose and straightened. The belligerent stamped sprout came out small, rather even small, it barely reached just the cocker’s bushy ears. Energetic music sounded from the small sports backpack, deftly attached with bound ribbons to the back of the* spaniel, two artists hovered in an icy pose, mimicking the famous mythical sculptural sculpture, and even having time to sing along some text unknown to the audience. Amina was so carried away by the unexpected concert spectacle that she felt with her whole gut, felt how good she was, how pleasant it was to enjoy a simple circus number performed by ordinary train artists. She wanted to get a coin and toss a bucket into a poisonously reptilian color, but, actively rummaging through her broad pockets, she found nothing at all and decided to continue to enjoy the performance further. Here the first coin tinkled silver, — Amina’s neighbor deftly threw it in favor of the artists, he put aside his historical Talmud for a moment and, smiling unusually wide, so sweet that even honey drooling ran from the left edge of the muscular lips*, kindly carefully examined the wandering circus performers. Amina, again in earnest, was somehow uncomfortable, and she again nervously fidgeted, stirred, started to scour pockets for the umpteenth time, but they were all completely empty, but now — a real miracle — I stumbled upon saving silver shabby quarter, and immediately decided that he was much more needed by these amusing guys than she, she, embarrassed, quite awkwardly rose from her place, not letting go of her mother’s elephant, she stepped once or twice and somehow awkwardly the movement of the paws endowed with its generosity in stepping. The amusing cocker caught the corner of her eye that Amina threw a voiced coin, fervently nodded her double head and continued to dance. The soldier was already in earnest: he was growing upward, more, more sophisticated and more furious, and his legs, as if wound up, easily and simply made incredible pretzels, which could only be envied, and voted, voted, holo-forces’ throughout Ivanovo, ‘which somehow… somehow began to annoy many passengers. The protesting procession began to move unconstrained further along the spacious carriage, successfully collecting food for itself. Someone readily parted with their people in blood, while others simply stared indifferently, yawning at the performance, and sat motionless, as if nothing special had happened, but there were those who, in time with the energetic melody, gave in amicably paws, than the duet was even more paused by the most. But, as the holiday arrived on Amina’s car, he left, disappeared: unexpectedly, spontaneously, unpredictably. The sounds died down and abruptly broke, not reaching the end of the composition.

At that time, two double whistles hissed hoarsely, deafeningly, lingeringly outside the window, on that side of the windowless surreal world: “Lice-lice-and-and, lice-lice-and-and!” — as it used to be, on old, time-worn, loud-breathing train monsters, and, as if upset that he could not win the racing competitions, sullenly trudged along in a quiet, lazy move.

Resting Amina glanced anxiously at the illusory surface of a window glass gently browned by sunset, but was not tuned for a romantic contemplation of all the beauty of the natural picture, all the more so after a couple of seconds the conductor ant burst into the carriage, looked around nervously, took a step back, but immediately returned, grumbled displeasedly to someone standing in a gray vestibule, sharply pushed the door open, and politely, with a powerful, rolling baritone, politely asked the passengers to present their travel documents.

Sometimes it happens that you swim indifferently on a pathetic boat on a drowsy and capricious river of your confused thoughts, either flying swiftly, sometimes phlegmatically falling flat, then inspired by beautiful, crazy exploits, or sometimes pessimistically resting on the coldest day, completely without strength and without the slightest a ghostly desire to rise, and, surprisingly, you do not notice the landscape surrounding you at all, reality skips a gray, monotonous, indifferent background, and neither color paints, nor images, nor sounds, nor smells, nothing… Solid gray.

Exhausted by the monotonous, debilitating, lulling road, the ant anemically noted to herself that the live picture outside the artificial carriage, tirelessly streaming with a continuous conveyor belt, radically changed to a more joyful life: threatening enemy clouds, something, apparently, having scared, they have already fan-scattered, but the mean, pale, waxy sun, almost completely colorless, so huge and oblique, still remained behind the pink feather, as if torn to shreds, by soft cotton wool of clouds, and not far, just a few hundred meters from the railway flaunted low emerald green undulating hills, sometimes in places with blossomed pearly tankers stars-flowers.

Slowly turning toward the passengers, Amina unexpectedly found that she no longer had a soft toy in her paws, she simply irretrievably and suddenly disappeared into the transcendent parallelism of being. It just was, and already it is — no…

“Well, well, no, no! And this happens, sometimes… An unpleasant, so to speak, surprise…” — with even calmness digested the disappearance of the ant. She lazily, drawn, slowly, like a winter sleepy fly, pulled out a slightly rumpled ticket from a simple lady’s handbag, tried to straighten it, but she didn’t succeed, and she hastily handed it to an approaching railway worker. He was in no hurry to take the provided coupon. Then, with a prickly coolness, Amina raised her eyes to the conductor opposite, and what was her surprise when she saw Ave in front of her in the form of a railway inspector. He froze rosy and smiled the whole width of his face. Its icy state melted in one second, as if a drifting iceberg had been driven to the equator line, and in a matter of seconds it disappeared into the oceans, becoming a part of the world water kingdom.

— Ah-ha-ha! Happy birthday, my dear Amina! — Ave shone, sparkled, flickered with energy ephemeral stars of joy and love, which seemed to become visible around him. Amina could not believe if he was in front of her. — Happy birthday to you! Happy e-day of your great birth! How are you, at five, I hope? I certainly know that everything is fine with you! — He said it so juicy, so loudly that all the passengers in the carriage died down and looked in their direction.

— Yes-ah-ah, mood so-so-e-e-e… — the ant was drawn out protractedly. — Yesterday, it seemed, it was “five”, or even all “five plus”, and today — even… — Amina sighed, took a breath and continued, — I don’t even know what to say… Everything seems to be complete okay, all is well! And how are you? — dumbfounded by an unexpected meeting, Amina looked in love at the mysterious Ave, and still could not, well, could not understand where he had come from.

— Well, you’re the girl with us — wow-wow-smart enough, you know how to count perfectly! You know how, huh? I know for sure — you know how! Once, ye-e-es-s-sterday the mood was at “five”, which means that today — already at “six”, and tomorrow — will be at all “seven”! Aah? So, and only so be it! I’m telling you exactly, don’t even doubt for a minute! Everything is fine, count: from one to five! No, better — up to ten! And just business! Why are you frozen? Smile, come on! Well, smile, my sun! Listen to me and everything will be super!

— Mmm, interestingly you say, Ave! Is this possible? — Amina, often-often blinking from a fallen surprise, finally began to come to life and regain consciousness, and slyly squinted her eyes, mercilessly staring through the stunned Ave with a look.

— Still asking? Of course, pos-s-s-s-sible. Everything is pos-s-s-s-sible! — Ave exclaimed solemnly, clapping his hands energetically, playfully turned around him, standing on one foot. “There is nothing impossible in our world, as you already know!” Generally no im-pos-si-bi-li-ti-es!

— Exactly, nothing is impossible!

— Yes, you and I somehow spoke on this topic. Moreover, it was not long ago…

— Yes, yes, it was… — Amina said, agreeing. — I remember well, then you still… You said that… what…

“The most important thing in any business,” Ave grabbed stalled Amina and confidently pulled forward, “in any desire — really, really want to, well, and then… then again — choose the right direction and move towards achievement this very goal, precisely setting priorities. Chips move forward and go!

— Yeah, yeah! — managed only to insert into the monologue of the dispersed Ave.

— You have to really, really want! And then — all the best, so after all! All — on the thumb! Well, of course, to try your best, to work and work on the solution of the question — without this, nothing! Without hard work — impossible! Yes, and, of course, still count. You need to count in order from one to ten! That’s, actually, that’s all! Yes, that’s all… — the ant spread his legs wide apart and slightly shook them, showing what it was — “that’s all”…

— Yes, yes, yes, I remember, of course, I remember, yes! This is the only way to live! You’re right! Any ant can do a lot. I don’t remember, I completely forgot who said it, but some of these… of the great ones. He said this: “The ant can do anything, but only laziness, fear and low self-esteem usually interfere with him!”

— Laziness is definitely not about us. But now, for some reason… ehhh… for some reason it doesn’t work out like this with me, we… a lot of people don’t get it… — the ant on emotions finally got up and wanted to hug Av, but he mercilessly shot a patter:

“Tsss, and this is a nice little birthday present for you!” Congratulations from all-all-all of my lovers-beloved souls-and-and I wish… hmmm… — here he a little puffed up, but after a second or two he again chantedly continued — and I wish, very much in scale to you, so that all your dreams come true — small, medium, huge and even enormous! Let everything come true! Everything, whatever you wish! Ahhh, if possible, I will help in their implementation! And, of course, let the sun shine in your world and let everything be “perfectly” with you!

And ending the last sentence with an emphasis on the last word, Ave pointed his paws at the ant carving, as if in zero gravity, into the carriage of an ant, which triumphantly held that very soft pink elephant, peacefully sitting a few minutes ago in her paws.

“Oh, well, business!” The day turned out today! Enormously — some solid-stone riddles and puzzles!” — Amina sincerely was delighted and surprised at the same time, she accepted with outstretched legs, noting to herself the envious glances of the carriage travelers, a touching gift and gently plunged into the safety chair. Dumbfounded by a blast wave of continuous surprises, the ant wanted only for a moment to look at the gray-olive hills endlessly flickered by a sinusoid behind a slippery window: now growing into huge, peaked, humped, drowsy mountains, then almost straightened to a shagreen, half-naked, barely gloomy, gloomy melting in the fluffy ultramarine of the horizon, but its fleeting glance was firmly magnetized, stuck and could no longer tear itself away from the enchanting, passing landscape. Only the weather, tuned to a more or less positive melody, again sharply changed for the worse. The tragic, gloomy clouds unceremoniously and roughly shoved the colored fluffy pillows of the clouds, and ruthlessly surrounded the sun from all sides, forcing him to unconditional surrender.

“It seems, after all, one cannot do without go-o-od rain! Wow, what the hell are coming!” The ant thought with annoyance, and said aloud, continuing to look out the window, as if spellbound:

— What day is it, Ave, tell me, please, otherwise I’m already confused! What day of the week?

Strange, but there was no answer, and the continuously-galloping hills had already ended, they gradually grew into majestic, impregnable mountains, around which a railway streamed with a silver ribbon. At the very foot of one of the sloping, wrinkled mountains, a modest village dozed off carelessly: dozens of three log-shaped old, but sturdy houses worthily revived the brown embankment. From the window of a flying train, one could see how several restless peasant ants lively drive a large herd of aphids into a new pasture, constantly shouting at them and whipping them up with whips. Through a dense wagon window, strangely leaked, a fragrant bouquet of blooming lavender and honey flew in.

— I ask what day of the week is today, Ave? What are you saying, huh? Silent… why?.. — Amina was finally able to break away from the kingdom in the law and looked towards a friend. — Ave, Ave, where are you?

But that was no longer in the same place. The baby elephant, a divine cub, was sleeping peacefully in the good legs of an ant. The painfully bright lighting in the car disappeared for a couple of seconds and then immediately returned. Amina, with some caution, got up from her seat, looked around with anxiety, feverishly searching the entire space of the car with her eyes, but, having not found Ave, she flopped hard back into the chair, sneezed, and hugged the priceless toy with extremely strong tenderness, closing it eyes. Dense silence came.

“I really hope… I really hope that everything will be settled down, and I will soon come to my goal! Without any unpleasant adventures. Just come and that’s it! Hurry to meet Ave already… still to determine exactly what my goal is now! Is this question looming ahead again, probably the most difficult question — to determine the goal to which you want to move?” — with a sigh, Amina thought in a dream and woke up.

“So, now and now, we conclude from… oh, oh, from sleep — we have to try hard, we really have to try to understand ourselves and determine the goal for this segment of life! And then everything will be much easier… it will be — just great!”

Gingerly rubbing her eyes, Amina was finally able to focus her vision on a nearby, just a few paces ten, huge, branchy, ash-coal tree with hanging thunderclips of incredible claws. Then the ant clearly saw how it separated from the mighty fairy giant whistling, a lively black silhouette spun off, although… although, after some minutes, she swore to herself, that the scene that had happened subsequently still seemed to her. At first, Amina was taken aback by a calm, phlegmatic walk, approached, sailed on light green, emerald, pistachio gentle waves along a grassy meadow, a rather strange ant, and dressed exactly like Amina herself, right to the smallest details, as if a mirror reflection: and a shabby light blue denim overalls with a number of narrow pockets on the right trouser leg for working tools, with exaltedly embroidered white and blue stripes, and a light shirt in a multi-color cage, and a summer windbreaker on top poisonous green in color with double, narrow, pointed arrows catching one another, and light white sports-type ankle boots, and another amazing coincidence — she was also pregnant, on such a tidy date… yes, and most importantly, the most striking thing, after which Amina the first was hard to think soberly — “Amina came up,” “Amina number two,” was exactly like her.

— Well, how are you doing and how are you doing? — with a confident velvet voice, the ant’s double asked in a chant, although her mouth did not come off. — I am very glad to meet you here, I have been waiting for a long time…

— Yeah, things are going well, everything is exactly so… everything is fine! I’m ok! — Amina, the first, slowly repelled a test blow, and a little surprised looked around, expecting with a slight hope that maybe someone would appear and save her, would help her in an absurd situation, but, as and it happens in terrible stories, not a single living soul was in the clearing.

— Are you sure about that, umm? You are kind of confused…

— Yes, everything is in order!

— Are you sure you are saying, umm? — stubbornly and melodiously insisted on a pessimistic answer approached. — I… you know, for some reason it seems to me that not everything is so perfect and beautiful? So many things have piled in your life, and you have piled all at once… It happens… Isn’t it hard for you? And if something seems to me… in general, my feeling rarely fails…

— Listen, thanks for the trouble, but I…

— Yes always please! — interrupted the ant.

— Thank you, thank you, I am absolutely sure that everything is fine with me! Great with me! — Amina parried clearly instantly and her uncertain look fixed on the approaching one. Then Amina noted to herself that she had already met this young ant somewhere before, but the playful mind could not agree that she herself was, this was Amina-second.

— Oh well! Alright, alright, let it be as you say? Excellent, but!.. I was just wondering, I…

— Really! — Amina glanced quickly somewhere behind the back of the unknown and noted that in the same clearing, in their common clearing, only on the opposite side, the same, exactly the same scene takes place: one Amina (now Amina the third) — pregnant, haggard, tired, and half asleep sitting and talking with Amina-fourth, which they talked about — did not reach the ant.

— For some reason, my heart skipped a beat and… so I decided to ask you about life… — Amina-second continued with a splinter in her voice.

— I understand, I understand. But I… everything is fine with me, really! — answered Amina, and she looked further behind the sketch on the opposite side of the meadow, which stalled and did not develop in any way: both ants were talking peacefully.

— Let it be “excellent” if you think so, — Amina-the second wedged into consciousness again.

— Yes, thank you, so be it! And only so!

— Immediately how… At a conditional level, everything is interconnected: everything that we invest in the world invariably returns to us! Everything flies to us in a boomerang. You say “excellent”, which means that the highest mark will return to you.

— Exactly, that’s how it goes!

— Of course, for sure!

— Does anyone deny this? I always adhere to the same opinion… give the world good — will return a hundredfold… so…

— That’s very good! I am extremely happy! I’m extremely glad that everything is fine with you! Let it continue to be easy and smooth! — unexpectedly, a stranger cut off Amin’s stranger, turned sharply and walked away. Amina just managed to send her a short one: “Happy to you!” — as she disappeared without a trace behind the nearest trees. Perplexed Amina did not have time to see when the detached “mirror” couple on the far side of the meadow parted — now there was nobody. “Brains have been completely awkward lately!” — Amina thought to herself distantly.

The sunny pancake, pulsating with endless positiveness, had not yet managed to rise high enough, but its burning, ruthless, all-penetrating tentacles already mercilessly burned the earth. A single, golden, lacy, cloudy, puffer coat resembling a cosmogonic sleepy fish swam across a demon-blue sky.

Morning heat foreshadowed a painful, excruciating and unpleasant day… Tiny annoying flies, one after another, stuck to open parts of the body — to the muzzle and upper legs, did not lag behind and irreconcilably tyrannized. Amina endlessly brushed the nervous frustration of small fry away.

“They got it, got it, got it! And what do they want from me?” — The black-eyed beauty could not understand in any way.

A small slippery snotty green lace rustled near the hind legs of an ant and disappeared into the thick grass.

“Well, where am I? Where am I now? What will be next? Who can help me?” — One after another, restless thoughts instantly grew to the most sky-high heavens and became a powerful, insurmountable stone wall. “And after all, in fact, not everything is so excellent if you frankly admit to yourself!” — Amina sighed heavily and remembered a recent guest.

— What are you doing here? — unexpectedly in front of a dreamy Amina an unfamiliar ant grew up. Where did he come from — Amina could not explain herself even after his departure. It just suddenly appeared molecularly, apparently by removing the invisible magic hat from the heated forest air — like a fairy genie. — Hi-hello, wandering bun! Come on, tell me how you got here!

For the first time in her life, she saw such an unusual dark-brown giant, as it seemed to her, with an impressive multi-ton truck. Expressive, almost rectangular gray-green eyes gazed steadily at her, carefully studying the ant, droplets of sweat lazily slipped through the temples of the traveler. The stranger’s infinitely long, grayish tendrils moved slightly, it seemed he was not going to go anywhere without receiving an answer. A snow-white plastic helmet was sitting on his dimensionless stump, like a glove, the same color — a jumpsuit from an air material adorned with chocolate color with a simple double emblem pyramid. Because of the widespread propodeum*, an even more powerful backpack was sticking out, on which God knew what was worn on all sides: some worn by time, distant dirty blue colors polyurethane rugs, rectangular bundles neatly wrapped in foil, over which the blinded, centuries-old, faded labels with once printed rainbow barcodes, a couple of lanterns: one in a rather strange, rounded case, most likely — waterproof, solid-looking, about the size of a soccer ball, the other — just min it was a fake one, as if toy, with an elongated ribbed handle and a flattened lamp, and a spare helmet, exactly the shape and color of an apricot. In his right foot, he confidently held a small hatchet with a sheathed blade. The coloration of this very propodeum — the ant back — shows a high degree of kinship between some of the species of ants. It was on this good-natured topic of “kinship of individuals” that the further development of any other thoughts of the pregnant individual was stalled. She perfectly understood that the ant who appeared before her was a slightly different, alien species, and how he would behave in the situation that had arisen was the main question. But she did not feel the incense of fatal danger, which usually “looms” from afar, so everything should be in perfect order. Involuntarily puzzled by the appearance of the guest, the ant blinked awkwardly, her eyes ran restlessly, like crazy squirrels in a wheel vicious circle, but she herself was in the pose of a stiff polar bear.

— Hey, hey? Do you hear me? I ask, how are you doing here? — the stranger tried to stop the racing car racing thoughts of ant on the freeway of life, but all attempts seemed naive and unsuccessful.

He smiled broadly and softly to the seated one, who seemed helplessly icy, and at the same time his Arctic helmet squinted, rode off and nearly fell off the back of his head. The carefree trick of the “merry white helmet” amused Amina and her matte mandibles lifted slightly.

— Yes I…

— Yes!

— Did I drive past here? — with a hoarse throat in the throat Amina began to come true. — Passing, and now it turned out… it turned out…

— In what sense did it “drive through”, may I ask you? How to get through here? Here from all sides — do not drive, do not go! — the brown giant looked at her in bewilderment and tried to understand what she was talking about, while still continuing to hold a wide, good-natured smile. — You’re not alone here, or what?

— Why? I’m alone here… It seems to be alone!

— One or not one, I don’t understand? Have you been thrown away? What happened? — endless questions poured with thorny arrows from a curious passerby, and the answers? The answers were in no hurry to be born in the light milky fog in which the forest traveler was.

— In terms of? Ah yes! It so happened that they brought me to the city… Wow, they brought me to the city…

— Well, well, well!

— Yes, yes, they drove to the city… And then, it seems, something happened… Something happened, something happened! And I don’t remember at all… I don’t remember what happened — she calmly folded her legs on a neatly protruding petiol — a stalk connecting the abdomen with the breast, which until recently was very narrow, and now has become unusually round. — What else to tell? When we hit the road, was it evening? Evening?

— Are you asking me this? — the ant inclined its muzzle.

— No, I think… it seems like it was evening… I think it was evening…

— Ahh, well, then what? Yet when you, I turn to you personally, and not to the whole company, with whom you went, so, did you personally go to the town or where did you go there? Where did you originally go? Was there any purpose? — The ant gazes steadily at Aminu. — In each individual case, we can say that practically — in each, any ant, regardless of status, mood and much more, each ant, when it goes somewhere, has a specific purpose, final or intermediate destination, so to speak. Was there a destination in your personal case?

— Yes, yes, you say correctly, there was a point… you all say correctly, only now…

— Of course, I’m right. Wrong — completely impossible. If it were “wrong,” I would be silent. And-and-so, your point is destination…

— Point — this is all true, but something does not converge! Morning now, now, ooo-morning, and I don’t understand anything! Everything somehow twisted, got confused, turned around… we went in the evening, left in the evening, but how did it turn out, in the sense of — I ended up, I don’t remember… and where then is it? Strange… I can’t understand anything that happened! What… — the lost ant quickly blurted out everything previous with such an aim that they say: “I told you how to eat, and there you’ll figure out what to do with it and how to live with it,” and it would seem to continue to continue endlessly chatter like that.

— Well, well, and I won’t understand it at all, — her stranger retorted slowly with the arrangement, concluding that nothing sensible could be achieved from the stranger. — And there are no more or less traces on the grass or around the clearing! There are no traces of crime, so to speak! And this is not good! — He gave an all-penetrating look to the surrounding area and scratched the hump on his frontal lobe*. — There is simply nothing at all, amazing! It seems nothing and nobody! The main thing is to decide what all the same to do to you, that is, now not only to you, but to us, and how then, where to move! — a stranger barely audibly rumbled monotonously, and slightly adding volume, he said: — In any case, you need to get to the city! You won’t leave you here! Now we’ll come up with something. Since I met you, then you need help, how can you be alone without help? Now come up, come up!

— Thank you for… — Amin began to wheeze again, but the ant was already hurrying away from her somewhere.

Chapter 3

WHITE

This is how folded, as if plain, non-woven, bustling patterns of the blind maze of Fatum appear and multiply, as if fragile, delicate multi-storey houses of lightweight matches grow, simplest like clear mountain river water without poisonous twisted impurities, or patterned intricate, filled and diluted with all kinds of chemical bromines and magnesium (it’s not up to us to decide), the fate of the great blessing of the stars: the life paths of Ave and Rond constantly crossed, and to be more precise, they just always ran alongside, and Siamese twins poke parallel to manual trolley on the rail track. We can say, practically, one common destiny (simple-straightforwardly ordered) for two with barely noticeable differences, spotty blotches, but, if you deal with meticulous scrupulousness, then for many working individuals the life paths are parallel with respect to each other, like properly stacked railroad tracks. So they go, run, flow, sad and rejoice, harmoniously and stubbornly, monotonously and endlessly — one next to the other (the right stretches near the left, and the left is the neighbor of the right), sometimes disappearing after a slight, sometimes unexpected, turn of events, and again, manifesting itself somewhere in the distance, growing and dying, but not changing to the very ghostly horizon…

Ave spent about fifteen years with Rond in one beautiful boarding school, one of the twenty best educational institutions in the country, from birth to graduation into “Big Life”, such a standard, such a labor and such a rootless. Together with him, he successfully completed specialized technical practice for one year at the largest urban training combination, at the end of which, with star ratings, they were freely admitted to the factory, which had become a loved one over the years, along with him and two dozen of the same poor fellow comrades, they hunched for three months, endlessly long ninety days, in the godforsaken uranium plant, where they managed to get punished due to the absurd oversight of the senior foreman during the night shift, along with to them he devotes the sixth year of the factory radio-technical details and I am sure that will work with it to the end of life.

“Ahh, it cannot be otherwise! This is so obvious! Together we will work and work!” — constantly categorically exclaimed Ave on this occasion. He recklessly believed that work and stability are the most important thing in his life, as in the fates of millions and millions, and millions of hymenoptera, like him.

“We were all born to work! We are all the beloved children of our vast country, and we love it recklessly! We love her!” — directly and irrevocably stated the Charter of the Society in its first all-encompassing article, making it clear that high-ranking state men sincerely, that is, with all their great hearts, cherish the rights of all citizens, and, first of all,” universal right to work.” To know and implement all the Statutes and Codes, and about twenty of them were recruited, was considered the duty of every full-fledged citizen of an independent State.

“You know, my friends, I’ll say this… Maybe a little grandiloquent, but absolutely affordable, absolutely simple, absolutely… The whole spirit of the universal labor service penetrates our whole life, we plow from morning to night, and are ready to continue to work hard and work hard, and all this is for the good of the beloved Motherland!” — once in the dark purple evening hour, when the working day murmuringly brought up another exhausted digital icon, so, between things, easily and philosophically showed a weary Rond, who didn’t want to say anything like that, but it was born of its own accord, out of breath him, along with fatigue, this rather simple, but deep expression once and for all with a small splinter sunk into Ave’s mind.

Sad, gloomy, and at times indecently tedious, Ski appeared in A-745 two and a half years ago, after an unfair dismissal (as some individuals believed), or, as is commonly called, after the “removal” of the previous third resident of the apartment -Lerz. The full name is Lertz A-79AK, although no one remembered exactly what his name was all. He conscientiously rattled at the largest radio engineering concern for more than three decades. A law-abiding worker, a production foreman, caught an unforgivable cold one October morning even after a traditional labor ritual, that is, after an ordinary eleven-hour working day, he went to bed dead. The next day, a joyful sunny bunny loomed a ghostly happiness — according to the internal house schedule, it was his home duty that was the reason, and therefore it was not necessary to go to his native plant and give his precious health for the benefit of a mechanical heartless fellow. After some work on the small farm here, hopelessly feral Lertz, gathering himself with all the unearthly forces, went for fresh nectar to his life key, which at that time was almost an hour’s walk from his home. Quite predictable and inevitable events developed further in a terribly active arithmetic progression. Forced autumn walk in the wild fresh air under a drizzling cold, stinking rain did not help, but only hurt the sick ant. Returning home with two ten-liter cans of nectar, he was completely exhausted, hopelessly collapsed at the very threshold of the apartment, losing consciousness.

When Rond and Ave arrived from work, they found the poor fellow in a helpless state: the painful heat didn’t let the ant go away for a minute, it seemed that under the thin skin of the patient, an insanely fiery fire was burning, ready to break out. Three short days allotted by the district doctor to recover a sick individual did not change anything significant. The next day, Rond, on duty, diligently looked after a fellow, spread out on the bed, as on a deathbed, indecently high degrees saving drop by an hour, but when they reached normal, the temperature rose again, and inevitably only one way was seen: the hardworking Lertz worked perfectly, and it will be eliminated only. That is exactly what happened. After three fleeting days, the doctor faithfully recorded “non-recovery of the patient and the impossibility of going to work.” The ill-fated metapleural gland*, responsible for the production of antibiotics, which protects ants from all kinds of bacteria, was damaged. Under the Code of Privileges, Lertz lost any right to a workplace — who needs a sick ant?

Ave and Rond tried to intercede for a comrade by writing a fraternal petition for a deferment for the time of restoring health, an additional explanatory and positive characterization, drawing the attention of the leadership to the significant experience and merits of an excellent employee in the past, but nothing, alas, did not help. The sentence was ruthless, severe, and irrevocable, without any appeal consideration. The small monthly allowance, which was supposed to be paid upon elimination from the place of work for the first six months to support life, was insignificantly miserable, completely insignificant and completely miserable, in fact it was only enough for a week…

“Can you imagine, Rond, a monthly allowance — for a week!” — Ave spoke vehemently to his friend. — “How to live in such a situation?” Can you answer the question? The direct question is the direct answer! But, after all, there is no answer! There are much more days in a month than one short week for which this allowance is enough for you! Or is it just that way? Here it is — real life… Those at the very top do not understand how we live here…”

In a word, in such a situation, ants living on auspiciousness had to starve. And for a sick Lertz, a lack of food was the worst medicine. Within a two-week period, Lertz was evicted from the A-745 room, the property of the enterprise, because he was no longer an employee of the radio factory. His comrades supported him as best they could, but they could radically change something; they were not able to.

There was still a worthy option to solve a vital issue — getting a job, but finding a permanent place, and even with housing, or with decent wages so that there was enough to pay for housing, was unrealistic. Lertz could not change his profession and try to earn his daily bread in some other way because of his age and character traits. He devoted his whole life to the service of one single enterprise, and now, like waste slag, he was thrown into the trash.

Neither Ave nor Rond knew how Lertz’s further fate came about, and after a month or two they didn’t remember “fellow soldiers” at all: working days take away all mental strength and make you think only about the present. Neither about the distant past, nor about the near future — there is practically no thought to think, neither strength, nor time, nor desire.

— There is no Lertz with us,