

V y a c h e s l a v B a g r o v.

Fantastic novel.

S T A R O F H O P E.

First Edition: Jan. 10, 2019.

ISBN 978-5-00122-877-6

Second Edition:

Smashwords: Dec. 26, 2019.

ISBN 9780463698525

Russia:

ISBN 978-5-6044014-0-8

Translation from Russian,

machine translation in the author's edition.

Annotation.

In the system of the Orange giant, the Big Star, 48 worlds of the Commonwealth live. But their peace and order is disturbed due to the appearance of the Guest. A giant planet, a diamond planet with intelligence and will, sows among the worlds, the bloody madness of war. But before the events began, the conspirators manage to send the cruiser "Arrow" to the Object (to the Guest). The cruiser captain, Jilk Ri, is instructed to destroy the Object at all costs.

Amid hatred and self-deception, the cruiser's crew must choose their own path.

This book is about a young pilot, about his life and his path.

This book is about love, hate, and self-deception.

Part one.

Jilk Ri.

Chapter 1.

Reprecentative CCW.

The co-pilot of the Dawning spacecraft "Wind" \- a twenty-three-year-old brown-haired guy of medium height, with funny brown eyes, dressed in a blue, baggy overalls, was seated in a deep white chair and calmly looked at his interlocutor. Opposite him sat the captain of the spacecraft Raul Sholl, of strong physique, fifty-two years old, a lean man with a flat, stern face framed by short-cut black hair. A short, wide scar was whitening under his right eye. In the light of the light panels under the low, plastic compartment ceiling, Captain Sholl's white overalls seemed to shine. He crossed his arms over his chest and in a monotonous, almost emotionless voice, spoke without taking his eyes off the young pilot:

  * Irresponsible, - the captain hesitated a little and added.- Sloven.

The co-pilot of the Wind was called Jilk Ri.

Jilk silently listened and seemed to listen with reverence. However, peering into the eyes of the young man, the captain became more and more annoyed, and his dispassionate voice was already beginning to take on shades of emotion experienced by him.

  * I repeat, Jilk, you slob. I would not have tolerated you on my ship for a day if it weren't for the Council.- The captain spread his arms to the sides, apparently trying to show his powerlessness in personnel matters.- You should not be here, Jilk.

  * But I'm here, captain.- The young pilot shrugged and added.- I'm sorry.

  * No need to cheer me, Jilk.

They silently looked at each other for some time.

  * I admit, you are an extremely lucky fool. At least by mistake you were appointed the representative of the Council of the Commonwealth and you, by mistake, continue to remain them.

  * I delivered the vaccine and therefore the administration of the planet ...- Jilk began, but the captain continued to speak, not paying any attention to his words.

  * By mistake, they almost ate you on Floria, and I don't understand why this did not happen .- Having said this, Raul Sholl again spread his hands to the sides.

  * Captain, no one would have eaten me, - Jilk put in: - Just ...

  * By mistake or oversight, you hang out on the "Wind", and I can't get you out of the carriage by any reports. And yet I believe that this is a misunderstanding, I mean your representation, will be corrected, and we will say goodbye to you, Jilk forever. I want to give you valuable advice, guy, and try to use it. Do not break firewood.

  * Is this your advice captain?

Jilk was bored.

Raul Sholl took a deep breath.

  * This is my advice to you, Jilk. A dozen clever guys in your place would have broken neck. But you're always lucky. But in this world, everything has one feature — change. Change happens sometimes, Jilk. Everything will ever end, and your luck will end too. And then you will bitterly regret your sloppiness and irresponsible attitude to life.

The co-pilot of the "Wind", smiled slightly and politely asked:

  * Captain, did you call me on a specific issue or did you have free time?

  * It seems to be chronic. Well and good! Given your status, landing on P 39 will not do without you ...

  * "Wind" will go on P 39, captain?

  * Yes. Decision is made. The Council instructed Yas Lo to conduct an inspection.

  * I'll be there, captain.

  * I have no doubt, Jilk. Therefore, I wanted to talk with you separately, in private. The situation on the planet is deplorable, and given the special nature of the upcoming landing, I insist that you do not stick your nose where you should not, and generally try not to do anything that could bring us trouble. On P 39, games may end badly. For all of us.

  * As a representative of the Commonwealth Council, I ...

Jilk Ri rose from his chair and, under the unblinking gaze of the captain, headed for the exit from the compartment.

******* *******

The orbital shuttle from "Wind" softly and silently touched the concrete platform of the old receiving complex with its steel supports. Through the large portholes of the cockpit, one could see multicolored glare of the side lights of the ship rushing on the walls of the receiving shaft of the complex. Twilight reigned in the mine. Captain Raul Sholl looked at Jilk sitting to his left, and said dryly:

  * We arrived, Tilly.

  * Got it,- answered the voice of "Wind's" senior navigator, Tili Souk, from the sound plate on the control panel.- Good luck.

Those who were sitting in armchairs moved, getting rid of safety belts, and began to get up.

The shuttle crew consisted of five people. A representative of the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds, diplomat Yas Lo, a forty-seven-year-old, tall and thin man with short blonde hair, Lina Sue, a young, fit, of medium height, she stopped at the exit of the pilot's cabin, waiting for the rest. Next to Yas Lo, a second woman, Marro Camro, rose from her chair. A tall, well-built woman of forty-two years old, with a slightly elongated face, with a short haircut of blond, curly hair. All five were dressed in blue overalls, with bright Commonwealth emblems on their left sleeves.

  * What about the weather?- Yas-Lo asked.

  * Rain,- replied Captain Sholl.

One after another, along a narrow passage between two rows of anti-loading seats, they entered the engineering compartment and, passing it, stopped at the gray hatch of the airlock.

Captain Sholl said:

  * We are unarmed. Our only defense is our status. Please be careful in communicating with the natives, do not go anywhere.- He said the last words, looking at Jilk Ri, who was hovering around the hatch.\- I hope everything will be OK.

  * You are too pessimistic, Raul,\- said Yas Lo.- I think they are already meeting us.

******* *******

The receiving complex of the old spaceport, built more than two centuries ago, seemed empty and forgotten. On the bare walls covered with black mold, rare, dusty lamps burned into the void of lifeless corridors. People with Dawn went down the ladder, stopped, looked around.

The reception area, surrounded by high walls of the complex, had a diameter of about three hundred meters and could, if necessary, take a heavy, cargo spaceship. From the dark sky, covered with lead clouds, a small, dull rain poured.

  * Mda,- said Raul Shol, looking up at this huge, concrete well, raindrops falling on his face.\- It seems that they always have this weather here.

  * P-39- not the most suitable world for life.- Yas Lo was now looking forward into the twilight of the far side of the landing, where ghostly, dumb shadows could hardly be guessed.\- Once this planet was called "Spark." That was before the Big Flash.

The silent shadows against the wall began to approach the dawnians, the booming sound of footsteps was heard. There were ten people.

Jilk was standing next to Yas Lo, as befits a representative of the CCW.

The first thing he paid attention to was their painful, bluish thinness, as if some kind of ailment were tormenting these people. Those who came to meet them were dressed alike, in long black cloak-hoodies, from under which were visible black suits with high, tightly buttoned collars. Gray faces - masks, smooth and inexplicably repulsive, seeming devoid of any emotions, looked at the guests sick, with yellowed squirrels, eyes.

It was cool, damp and stuffy.

Those who met stopped at the dawnians three steps away, and a tall, sick-looking man stepped forward with a narrow weathered face. Jilk could not determine his age. This man could have been fifty and seventy years old.

He raised a black-gloved hand, and said in dawnian:

  * On behalf of my people, I am pleased to welcome you to our planet. My name is Kkap Ppak. I am an official representative of the authorities. I am also authorized by the Directory to resolve all issues related to your inspection.

Yas Lo also, raising his right hand in a welcome gesture, answered calmly:

  * Glad to meet you, Mr. Ppak. I am a representative of the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds, Ambassador Yas Lo.- he pointed to Jilk Ri.- CCW representative Jilk Ri. With your help, we will carry out the planned inspection, after which I will decide on further cooperation of the Council with your world.

The diplomat did not introduce him to the nearby Raul Sholl, Lina Sue and Marro Camro.

The dawnians and the natives who met them bowed ceremoniously to each other, after which Ppak said less officially:

  * Mr. Ambassador, you are aware of our difficulties, so I will not explain the situation to you. For your safety, follow me and do not deviate from the given route. Now we will leave this complex and by car, we will go to the Directory building, where the places are already ready for you. You are our dear guests and there is no limit to our joy.

Jilk, who was listening to him, did not catch in Ppak's words any joy — a gray, dull person, a gray, dull voice.

Yas Lo answered:

  * Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Ppak.

Jilk looked at the people in the raincoats.

With the exception of a small difference in height, they did not seem to him to be different, they were thin and pale, and their faces at first glance were devoid of individual features. People are ghosts, people are mannequins.

Ppak, with a gesture of a thin hand, indicated the dawntians to follow him, and now the whole procession headed for the doorless, wide opening in the monolithic concrete wall.

Jilk walked next to Yas Lo, looking around.

The entire reception complex was immersed in twilight. It was hard to imagine that once there was a large spaceport, and this world was known as one of the most prosperous worlds of the Commonwealth.

The concrete platform on which they walked, cracked and dirty, was dotted with potholes and pits, and in these pits stood black water, like ink. Light from rare lamps reflected brightly in puddles, and shiny bubbles were jumping on their black mirror surface.

  * Mr. Ppak,- said Yas Lo in a businesslike voice,- I would like to proceed immediately to the inspection.

  * Immediately, without rest?

  * Believe me, - Lo smiled. - During the flight I was not tired at all.

  * Good,- he answered, pausing.

The booming echo of their footsteps went up, mingling with the colorless, dull noise of rain. They ended up in a spacious hall, where only that part of it, which was supposed to lead the aliens, was lit with lamps. The gloomy concrete walls were drowning in darkness, it smelled of mold and the air here was moist and heavy.

Jilk looked right — Lina was walking behind him, next to Marro.

  * Where do you want to start the inspection, Mr. Ambassador?- Asked Ppak.

  * I will start the test with residential buildings.

  * It is early morning and it's unlikely that anyone will open the door for us ...

  * This is not scary. - Yas Lo did not smile. - We will be persistent.

Ppak did not answer him.

Looking closely, Jilk saw in the thick darkness, standing against the wall of people. The weapons in their hands glowed dimly in the light of the lamps. The were led through monotonous, gloomy halls and everywhere they were met by desolation and decline. Once large windows, now were laid with brickwork. Large piles of garbage stuck out of the darkness. The sounds of their footsteps echoed along the chipped walls.

Suddenly, the premises of the reception complex are over.

Dawntians came out through the high armored doors, and they found themselves on a chipped asphalt platform. Four bulky cars, similar to armored buses, stood on a platform wet from rain. In the barred little windows of cars, a dim, yellow light shone.

A humid and cool wind blew here.

Two dozen more guards scattered around the entire perimeter of the site- silent, motionless figures, they looked hiuro at the aliens from under the hoods of their cloaks. On high poles around the square, spotlights burned.

And then Jilk saw the city.

The black city.

No lights were in it.

The city is drowning in impenetrable darkness, in a veil of light rain, dark, gloomy, it merges with the outside world, like a giant tombstone, quiet and incredible for Jilk, with its dead silence. The gloomy silhouettes of the multi- story buildings surrounding the complex froze like predators lurking in the night. There were almost no trees- blurry, barely guessed shadows. And the empty space between the houses involuntarily caused concern, as it something dangerous was lurking there.

A city- cemetery.

A city- ghost.

Jilk read about cities on the P- 39, but so far he read about them.

He buttoned his overalls collar.

  * Is it cold?- Lina asked his.

  * Yes. There is cold.

She stood next to him, peering into the darkness of the dark quarters, her eyelids trembling.

  * How do they live here?

Jilk was looking at the girl.

Lina Sue.

For her sake, he was ready for any madness, just to see her smile, just to draw her attention to herself. As after the unpleasant incident with Floria, Lina laughed, but he could not look away from her. That day she laughed to tears, and he was happy and joyful.

  * Can you hear me, Jilk?

  * What?

  * We are invited into the cars,- she said, and he saw a barely perceptible smile on her lips.- Don't be lost, Jilk.

Ppak had already invited them to get into the car twice.

  * Please get in the car.

Buses standing in a wide circle occupied almost the entire space of the site in front of the reception complex. Dawntians were taken to a long, blunt- nosed, armored bus, with two bright spotlights on a flat roof. A tall guard opened the heavy door of a mechanical monster. They took turns, climbed into the spacious interior of the bus, sat on hard, steel chairs. The strong sweat and and engine oil hit Jilka in the nose. Ppak and five guards took places at the beginning and end of the cabin. Slender driver looked out of the small window from behind the steel partition of the cab, looked at the dawntians.

  * Let's go,- Ppak told him in an ordered tone, and after a few seconds, the engine started up, coughed angrily, and they drove off.

Lina Sue was sitting next to Jilk. Her bangs wet from the rain stuck to her forehead. He turned to the narrow window and peered into the wet darkness. Bringing his face closer to the cold, thick glass of the window, he tried to make out the details of the unknow, world. The car was trembling along a bumpy, broken road. Everyone rode in silence. Ten minutes later, Yas Lo said turning to Ppak:

  * Tell mi, are we passing residential quarters now?

  * Yes. This city is completely populated. The whole city is surrounded by a high wall. The population lives calmly and safely. We are trying to build social ties...

  * Stop the car, Mr. Ppak,- said Yas Lo.

  * Мr. Ambassador, do you want to go out here?- Ppak's thin face expressed poorly hidden concern.

  * Stop the car.

  * But people are still sleeping, Mr. Ambassador. In addition, we have a quarter where people are awake even at night. There you could see the living conditions of people without disturbing anyone...

  * I'll start the inspection from here.

  * It is fundamentally?

  * That's fundamental, Mr. Ppak,- Yas Lo answered him.

  * Good. As you wish.

Ppak shouted something to the driver, and the car slowed down, the brakes creaked.

Have stopped.

First, the guards, opening the door, got out of the warm cabin into the rainy darkness, then Ppak and the dawntians.

It was cold.

A faint wind carried in the air, a putrid stench of garbage.

The wide, unlit street that once served as an avenue went into the depths of the blocks and was lost behind a curtain of rain. He saw how abruptly stopping, escort cars form around the place where the dawntians stood, buzzing and stinking with exhaust fumes, an iron fence. The rays of the searchlights and headlights of the cars cut the darkness. The guards jumping out of the cars,under short, deaf commands, scattered to the sides, holding short- barreled weapons in their hands.

The surrounding darkness was filled with houses- dark, dead, they rose on both sides of the road, gloomy, abandoned bastions. Once it was a busy avenue of a well- maintained city, trunks of long- dead trees still sticking out from the ground, and sidewalk curbs, crushed and rooted in the remains of asphalt, dejectedly denoted the space of an abandoned road. In the old asphalt of the road, deep holes gaped. From the cars to the nearest house was about two hundred meters.

The guards turned on bulky electric lights that looked like small black suitcases and their narrow, dazzling white beams added to the lights from the cars.

  * Where do you want to start the inspection, Mr. Ambassador?- Asked Ppak.

  * Let's go over to that house,- and Yas Lo pointed with his hand into the darkness of the block where the monolith of the building stood.- Here, in my opinion, it doesn't matter where to start.

Ppak signaled, and three dozen armed men in black cloaks quickly dispersed on both sides of the procession. Several of them ran far ahead, the rays of their lanterns rushing through the darkness.

  * It is unlikely that anyone will open the door for us now. We have a free society. I cannot order or force people to accept us.

A gloomy low sky with faint light near the horizon, hinting at an early dawn. The entered the gloomy courtyard. Not a single extraneous sound in the rustling of rain, only spanking in puddles, numerous legs, and a dull cough on the right.

  * Mr. Ppak,- said Raul Sholl, who was silent before,- It is not noticeable that people live here.

  * This is not a desert,- answered Ppak.

They turned lest and found themselves on a concrete platform, where the windows of the first floor were tightly boarded up with rusty tin. The guards were the first to open the creaking front door, ten of them, entered it and disappeared from view.

  * Let's wait here, gentlemen,- Ppak suggested.

They waited a long time.

Behind Jilka, Marro was quietly talking to Lina. The guards moved away, their lanterns shining deep in the courtyard, and their black raincoats, wet from the rain, glittered dimly and seemed metallic. Everything around was in black and gray tones, and only the dawntians' clothes, as if carved from a picture of another world, stood out motley against the general gloomy background of the surrounding. Finally, the guard ran out of the open door of the house, ran running slapping his feet in the puddles, stopped in front of Ppak and said something quietly to his. In response, he nodded, turned to the envoy of the CCW and said:

  * Now you can come in, Mr. Ambassador.

They entered the short lobby, began to climb the steep concrete stairs to the ground floor area. On the shabby walls, the light from the lanterns danced, it illuminated the musty corners and piles of rotting garbage. We climbed to the site. Yas Lo went to the dirty, wooden door and knocked on it with his fist. The silence was shocked by the echo of the blows.

Nobody answered the knock- the ambassador again began to pound the door with his fist- longer, more demanding.

The answer was silence.

Ppak silently watched hit from the side.

Outside the door, everything seemed to have died out.

The next half hour, the procession walked around the unrequited doors of the apartments. It seemed that beyond all living things had died out.

Finally, Yas Lo turned his yellow face in the light of the lanterns to Ppak, who was standing at the stairs, and uttered dryly:

  * Try it, Mr. Ppak. Maybe they will open the door for you.

Ppak took a deep breath.

  * If they don't open the door, then they don't want to open it.

Nevertheless, he went to the door on which a dirty sheet of paper was written, and, knocking on it, called out loudly:

  * Open the door!

And again, nothing has changed.

Ppak looked at the CCW Ambassador with a tired expression in his clever, black eyes and, with ostentatious patience in his voice, said:

  * I told you, Mr. Ambassador, that no one will open the door for us. We must go to another quarter...

Yas Lo stared at Ppak and said:

  * Mr. Ppak. Do not take me for a fool. I am going to talk with these people and achieve this.

  * You have an enviable persistence.

He shrugged.

  * Tell your people to break the door.- Yas Lo demanded firmly.

  * Mr. Ambassador, this is contrary to our laws. I am not authorized...

Yas Lo slowly approached Ppak, bypassing the guard standing in his way, stopped and spoke:

  * Mr. Ppak. I will not repeat. Either we immediately enter and of these apartments, or our mission is completed. I find the inspection results unsatisfactory.

Ppak was silent for a long time.

Ppak thought.

Ppak, decided something.

His motionless, pale face seemed like a mask of a dead man.

After a moment, he knocked hard on the door, and said aloud:

  * In the name of the Directory!

And as if those who were now outside the door were waiting for his words, they immediately pushed back the latch clanging with iron, and the door opened wide.

In the dark doorway, stood a woman whose age Jilk could not name. She wrapped herself in a plaid, indefinite color, looking fearfully at uninvited guests. The gray skin of her face was dirty and covered with warts. Her black eyes looked with fear, her small mouth was tightly compressed, turning into a narrow, black gap.

  * Why didn't you open right away?- Without interest, Ppak asked her.

  * We... We have not heard, Mr. Superintendent,- she blurted out.- We slept and did not hear. It's true! If we hadn't slept...

Ppak turned to Yas Lo who was standing nearby, and with a gesture of his hand, invited him to enter the apartment, said:

  * Please, gentlemen.

But the ambassador had not yet had time to take a step when the three armed guards, shining in front of themselves with lanterns, pushed the woman away, and quickly entered the corridor. Yas Lo entered the apartment after them.

The apartment had a heavy, damp smell. Jilk ended up in a room lit by the two lights of the guards, where from all the furniture there was only a wide mattress on the floor, as dirty as everyone else. Near the wall, next to the mattress, two stood. Man and woman. Covering their faces from the light of lanterns, they tried to be closer to each other. They were wrapped in some rags, their appearance was miserable and disgusting. Their skin bore traces of newly healed ulcers or boils. The woman's hair partially fell out, exposing the front of the skull, her hands were trembling, her head was twitching. The man seemed a little younger than her, but he was already fifty years old, and the expression of his suffering and humility was imprinted on his face, overgrown with a rare beard.

Looking at these people, for the first time in his life, Jilk did not love himself because of an irresistible feeling of disgust for the people who stood in front of him.

The humble and silent owners of the dwelling stood in silent expectation, like woeful ghosts of the world around them. Yas Lo looked at them for a long time in silence, and he opened his mouth to say something, but the woman, suddenly startled, spoke quickly and sharply, and her eyes did not look up from Ppak's face:

  * There are only three inhabited apartments in this entrance. And no one lives on the upper floors. There is no one there. True, true, gentlemen are dawntians.

Now she was looking at Yas Lo.

  * How do you know that we are with Dawn?

The woman's gaze fixed on Ppak, as if seeking support from him, but he defiantly turned away and looked at the dirty walls of the corridor.

  * Did you eat today?- Yas asked her.

  * I? Today? O!- The woman's face twisted in a grimace of joy, as if she remembered something incredibly joyful,- A lot of stuff! Bread, lots, lots of bread!

Looking at the woman's face, Jilk suddenly realized that she was trying to portray joy and happiness, which she probably never knew.

  * Big, so big square slices of bread!

  * Show me your food,- Yas interrupted quietly.

The woman stopped, fear flashed in her gaze. She has already looked into Ppak's face:

  * How is this to show? Bread?

  * I want to see your food,- Yas Lo told her again.\- Do you have it?

Continuing to look at Ppak her head, her lower lip looked as if capricious:

  * No, no, that's... impossible!- She looked Yas Lo in the face, hurriedly and sharply said the words.- We can't do this it's against our... habits.

  * Mr. Ppak, ask her.- Yas did not turn his head in his direction.

Realizing what was happening in her own way, the woman spoke again, but this time she tried to portray a rapture, almost hysterical:

  * And you gentlemen, dawntians, come back later, yes, then. And now you can't look at food. Because... this... it's not decent!

  * Mr. Ppak,- said Yas Lo calmly.

  * Show them everything,- Ppak said dryly.

The expression of hysterical enthusiasm on the woman's face immediately gave way to deep despondency. The recently forgotten knowledge of her life, hopeless and heavy as a stone slab, reminded her of herself, she suddenly returned from her dreams, and this knowledge destroyed her dreams. Jilk thought that probably should be what people who heard their death sentence should look like.

  * It's in another room. In the kitchen,- the little woman said quietly, her voice suddenly breaking.

She walked around the diplomat sideways so as not to hurt him, and went out into the corridor. Yas Lo, Jilk, Ppak and Lina Sue moved behind her. Captain Sholl and Marro remained standing in the middle of the middle of the moldy room.

They entered an empty doorway ( two guards lit their way with portable lights ), and ended up in an empty, abandoned room, like the previous one, with the only difference being that there was a large table near the window. The vile stink in this room seemed unbearable. A rotten, wooden table leaned against the wall. All that was on the table four spoons, an aluminum pan tightly closed with a flat lid without a handle, all this bore the traces of dried dark spots.

The woman was waiting for them, and as soon as the dawntians approached, she lifted the lid, releasing the smell of rot.

  * Here,- she said.- It smells already, but something needs to be eaten, and then, having caught herself, she spoke quickly and confidently,- But we are not complaining! Don't think about anything like that... We moved to the city of Directory 16 years ago, and are very glad that we were received. By decision of the commission, we are recognized as harmless. We work for the good of the city...

She said the last words to Ppak.

  * The people in that room, are they your relatives?- Yas asked her.

Jilk wanted to get away from here soon- from the stench, from these people, from their whole life.

  * Yes,- she replied, looking at the diplomat with charcoal black eyes,- My uncle Trons also lives with us. He is in another room, sick. Probably dying soon. And we, according to the law, will burn his body. You do not think...

  * I understood. Sorry to bother you,- Yas Lo told her, and then Ppak, who was standing next to her,- We are leaving.

Going out into the street, Jilk eagerly and deeply took a breath, trying to drive the smell of the apartment out of his lungs. Looking into the hopelessly heavy sky, like the lives of these people, he regretted that he did not stay on the "Wind".

  * It's scary and disgusting,- Lina said very quietly.- It's impossible.

  * But we are here,- he told her.- We will talk about this on the ship.

Behind the gloomy crates of high- rise began to reluctantly and painfully clear, it indicated with clear edges, flat roofs of houses and poles along the road.

  * What is it?- Came Yas Lo voice next to Jilk.

Jilk involuntarily looked around.

Yas Lo stood a stone's throw from him, next to the frozen black figure of Ppak and captain Raul Sholl, and looked somewhere along the dead street. Rain water flowed down his face, shone in the light of the guards' lanterns.

  * Where?- Ppak asked him.

Yas did not answer.

He silently went to the pillar, which stood in the darkness on the corner of the house.

Jilk took a closer look. There, on the crossbar of the pillar, directly above the stairs leaning against it, two shapeless bags hung. Now Jilk could make out what caught the attention of the ambassador. Three minutes later, several people were already standing next to the pillar on which two dead men were hanging on each other. Due to baggy clothes, it was impossible to understand who they were- men or women. Turning out unnaturally long necks, the dead looked down with their faces indistinguishable in the dark.

  * Hm.- Ppak coughed a couple of times, and said.- This is not what you thought, Mr. Ambassador.

  * What do you think I thought about?- Yas's voice was colorless.

  * We have a difficult life, Mr. Ambassador.- Ppak was looking at the diplomat.- And no one can forbid people to make their choice. Even that.

  * Free society- free choice. So, Mr. Ppak? They have no choice.- Yas Lo said and, turning away from the terrible find on the pillar, hunched over and went to the cars standing at the side of the broken road.

The rain suddenly stopped, as if somewhere blocked the crane. Visibility improved, but none of the dawntians looked at the surroundings. Gathered near the car, lit by the lights of the guards, people at Dawn were silent for a long time. Finally, Yas Lo told Ppak:

  * Of course, I have to hold a meeting with your Directory, but now I can say that I will not sign a favorable review of your affairs. The Commonwealth of Worlds will stop giving you its help. All this is empty. You do not care about your people. I see no reason to prolong this agony.

And here, for the first time in all this time, the restrained and laconic Ppak showed his emotions. Stepping towards Yas, he fervently in low voice, said:

  * Mr. Ambassador, I ask you for a few minutes! Let's get into the car.- And turning to the guards, ordered.- Everyone to stay here!

  * And I have no secrets from the dawntians.

  * Good.- Ppak backed away toward the car.- Let your people be present at our conversation.

The five dawntians and Ppak climbed into the dimly lit passenger compartment and sat on hard chairs.

  * Come out,- Ppak ordered the driver, and he jumped out of the car, abruptly slamming the iron door behind him.

  * I'm listening to you, Mr, Ppak.

The yellow light from a low ceiling lamp fell on his face, giving the diplomat's sharp nose something funny.

  * Can't we speak not officially?- Asked Ppak.

  * As you wish.

Ppak was silent for a long time, then said:

  * We really need the help of the Commonwealth. You yourself see that our situation is catastrophic.

  * I see.

  * You will destroy us. You cannot leave us to die!

  * Why?

Ppak did not answer.

  * Would you like me to tell you what I think about your question, Mr. Ppak? I will not hide, when voting in CCW for help on your planet, I voted against.

Ppak shook his head and said quietly:

  * ! We will die!

  * We have nothing to do with it. You will kill yourself, sooner or later. You do it well. Want your planet is called in the Commonwealth? Cemetery! This is not what I came up with, Mr. Ppak. This is the attitude to your world.

  * It's cruel,- he said fervently.- Cruelly.

  * This is objective. There are two more unsuccessful worlds in the Commonwealth, but you have surpassed them too! In your greed, you poisoned the planet, you waged wars for domination of each other, instead of living peacefully and building your own house together. And in the end, you wanted to become immortal gods. They decided to improve what they had, and began to implant electronic devices in their bodies. You thought these devices would give you immortality. You wanted permissiveness and immortality.

  * It was in the distant past. You cannot judge us for the affairs of our ancestors!

Yas took a deep breath and said:

  * I haven't finished. When it became known that the world of Floria was in danger of destruction, you refused to participate in the preparation of the evacuation of its population. Although much was not required of you.

  * You are vengeful.- Ppak.

  * Not.- We are not revengeful. You do not change. But I will continue. When the Big Flash occurred on the Big Star, all forty- eight worlds of the Commonwealth suffered. It was a crushing blow to developed civilizations, a blow that threw us all far back. Production and social over- everything collapsed. But the worlds of the Commonwealth have risen, Mr. Ppak. They found the strength to rise. We not only got on our feet, but also continued the plan of evacuation of Floria! At a time when every world needed help, we considered it necessary to help those who are doomed without our help. So we survived, helping each other. All together, as far as the strength of each. And only your world could not get up. Of all the developed worlds, only your world collapsed like a rotten tree, and remained lying. But our worlds are very close. We speak similar languages.

  * We are people too, and we want to live no less than you.

  * Of course.- Yas Lo nodded his head, in response.- Nobody argues with that. But only you have slipped to cannibalism. However, this was expected, Mr. Ppak. After all, literally on the eve of the Big Flash, you killed everyone who was against your electronic immortality. All who spoke to your rulers are not! Your society has torn them to pieces. I know the history of your world well. You, with your vaunted immortality, are literally crazy. You renounced family and friends if they were against Modernization. Modernization into immortality! How many of you have lived at least thirty years from the declared immortality? Silence, Mr. Ppak? So I tell you, no one. The Big Flash destroyed all your electronics and managed to implant in bodies. Billions of people died immediately, billions wanted immortality and pleasures. Billions of traitors and killers! And those who survived could not die, although they most wanted death. In the end they disappeared. Rotten alive. The last chord in this death march was an artificial disaster. Nuclear and chemical enterprises have become uncontrollable and dangerous. Almost all insects died. When trouble came, it turned out that death is not the worst for you. Immortals do not need medicine- you have abolished it. But when trouble came, you remembered it, but it was too late. But finally finished off you, hunger. And people, first ate everything that was left, and then... But then, Mr. Ppak, you began to each other!

  * It was an unprecedented disaster! What do you order? People, of course, behaved... But they wanted to live.

  * Mr. Ppak. It would be better if the traitors and the murderers died than continued to their bestial customs. Like animals. My opinion is that you all had to die. Do not cling to a disgusting existence,but simply lie down and die.

  * We are the grandchildren and great- grandchildren of those who lived then, Mr. Ambassador,- said Ppak.- We are not responsible for the past of world. We try to survive in the conditions that we inherited.

Jilk Ri listened to their conversation and, looking at Ppak's gray face, involuntarily imagined a picture of a long- past disaster. He read the history of this world, but only now, as if he had touched something that had once destroyed the planet.

  * I will tell you what I said at the beginning of our conversation. I am against the help of P- 39. Greed, your name. And even now, I am against helping you. Of course, this will be decided by the Council of the Commonwealth, but I will not change my opinion. Your world has no future. To help you get back on your get back on your feet is to run an old song. And this is a nasty song, Mr. Ppak. One way or another, you end up the way your ancestors finished. Just tell me, over the past forty years, while the Commonwealth is helping you, has anything changed for the better? All that we deliver to you with the help of spaceships is grain, equipment, reagents, food, animals... Where is all this? You continue to die out. CCW asked your Handbook about the presence of our observers. They refused us. What is the point of feeding those who doom their people to death? I clearly saw what hung on that pillar. We will stop helping you. May these people die. But your Directory, after it eats up all its hidden reserves, will disappear. First they will gnaw at each other. And those who survive will weave a loop from a rope. They need to climb the pillar.

Ppak silently looked at the dirty floor of the cabin.

Jilk knew that the fate of this world would be decided now.

  * Good,- Ppak said.- Spit on conventions,- his voice became hoarse.- I'm talking to a man, not a stone. I appeal to you, as a person addresses a person, give us a chance! Do not trust us, do not spare us, we do not deserve it. But I ask you about the opportunity for all of us to become people! You are right, that's all. Give us this opportunity. Do not take away. You will go to the Directory. Tell them that as you told me. Convince them to listen to your words. Otherwise, we are all doomed! But know, we are doing everything in our power. But the soil will not give birth. Crops are scanty. Fields rob, despite the defense. We are trying to save those who can still be saved. Cannibals... At least they are not in big cities. And those of them whom we catch are executed! We are trying to raise children, but they are fem. Very little! Hear my request. For more, I do not ask.

Listening all this time, Jilk coughed and said, turning to Ppak:

  * I have to tell you, Mr. Ppak...

  * Mister!- Ppak snorted contemptuously.- What kind of lord am I?

  * Speaking from me...- Jilk Looked at Yas Lo.- I will try to Council to continue to help you. But the final word is not for the Council, but for your Directory.

Ppak did not seem to hear him. He stared at Yas Lo.

  * Tell them. As you told me,- he got up from his seat, extended his bony hand forward and, opening the door, shouted into the darkness.- Everything is in places. We are going to the Directory.

******* *******

Chapter 2.

Unexpected task.

The "Wind" spaceship flew along a given route- bypassing the planet Or.

Leaving behind a bagel- like "Estum Or" station, on which the orians made sheet armor for the Second Transport of immigrants from Floria, the "Wind" headed toward Itoka. Liveliness and bustle reigned on the ship. Were preparing to receive three hundred installers from Itoka. However, an unexpected event occurred. The spaceship caught up with the speed shuttle from Or. From a message inside the ship, Jilk found out that Ambassador Ood Klam arrived.

The purpose of his visit was not reported.

Jilk was resting after the shift, hanging around the seventeenth tier, peering at the open doors of empty cabins for passengers, and waited for Lina Sue to return from the aggregate compartment. Today was the day of the planned equipment check and she, as a ship engineer, was now in the aggregate compartment.

Jilk looked at his wristwatch- glowing numbers showed 20:41. Lina's shift will end no sooner than in than in three hours.

He entered the large dining room- about five dozen tables with chairs pulled to them, empty, shone in the light of the lamp panels, blue, green, yellow. The gray floor glowed dully.

Jilk moved through the dining room, slowly, occasionally touching his hand on the smooth surface of the tables. He walked like an automaton, his thoughts were far away.

He was tormented by bitter annoyance at himself, like a burning sense of shame. For a long time, Jilk was going to talk with Lina. First, he decided to tell her about his feelings, returning from the Ocean- he spent three days on this planet,visited underwater caves and deep- sea cities of the natives. He was at the fusion station, and even without the permission of the local authorities organized a short excursion for himself- he was looking for a souvenir for Lina. In one of the underwater caves, he even had to fight a giant eel. A spear gun saved his life. Jilk was determined to confess to Lina his love, but on the way to the "Wind" he lost all his determination and, standing next to Lina and listening to her laugh, he already knew that he would not tell her about his feelings.

Not a single word.

Then there was the planet Floria, where the local florianess almost bit him, when Jilk bathed carefree and sunbathed on the riverbank, in the reserve. A person, especially naked, and even more so from the back, is very similar to a local herbivore animal- noob, stupid and shy, with long arms and powerful jaws, constantly chewing something. The florianess's name was Aaoli, he made friends with her. She called him Not Bitten. Her character was cheerful and they somehow made friends immediately. For a long time she could not believe that Jilk was a CCW representative, and when he, not without boasting, showed her the document, Aaoli laughed out loud with her low voice and said laughing:

  * How did you get there?

The story of Not Bitten, reached the embassy of Dawn. The authorities of Floria obliged people, in order to avoid misunderstandings, not to go to reserves without florian escort. Jilk broke this rule. But the scandal was avoided. "Wind" underwent prophylaxis, was in orbit of Floria. Jilk lived on the planet for two weeks, and then returned to the spaceship.

Together with the representative of Floria- with a tall, aging florianin. When meeting with captain Sholl, the florian said briefly:

  * Do not leave your kittens unattended!

Jilk was beside himself with indignation and shame.

He did not know who told Line about what had happened to him in Floria, but when she met him on a spaceship, she laughed to him:

  * Hello kitty.

Jilk again had to forget about the long- conceived conversation with Lina. Jilk thought about the next planet on the route, grimaced and tripped over a plastic chair.

Three hours still had to be spent on something.

The clock on Jilk's hand emitted a melodious ringing tone. He raised his hand looked at the dial screen. The time on the watch was replaced by the image of captain Sholl's face.

  * I am listening to you, captain.

  * Come to the navigator's cabin immediately.

And the captain's face on the watch's screen disappeared.

"Wind" belonged to the second class of spacecraft- the large, heavy spaceship of the Dawn fleet, it had twenty- two residential tiers, and transport and aggregate complexes. Having quickly reached the elevator shafts, Jilk stopped on a wide platform under the bright light panels, and in a couple of minutes rode in the elevator to the second tier of the ship, standing next to a young, tall florianess dressed in an orange jumpsuit.

She came out on the ninth level, Jilk on the second. Leaving the elevator, reflecting with displeasure on the urgency of the call to the captain, he walked along the main corridor past the engineering compartment and, having met no one, was near the closed light green door of the navigator's cabin.

Taking a deep breath, Jilk pressed the blue button on the wall, and the door went into the wall.

  * Permission to enter, captain?

  * Come in already!- Said the captain in exasperation.

He went into the compartment and stopped near a narrow which table, at which three people were sitting- captain Sholl, ambassador Yas Lo and middle- aged stranger- dawntian, of a sturdy build, in a gray suit, fashionable in Ore. The stranger looked no older than forty years old and with some king of sad interest, looked at the young pilot with his brown eyes.

  * Have a seat, lad,- the captain casually pointed to the empty chair at the table.- Ambassador Dawn to Or- Raul Sholl respectfully pointed Jilk to the stranger.- Ood Klam.

  * Good afternoon, ambassador.

  * Hello, Jilk Ri.- He got up a little, and held out his strong hand to Jilk.- Heard about you.

They shook hands.

Jilk sat in the chair offered to him and looked with increasing interest at the ambassador.

  * We are here,- the ambassador continued to say,- we were just discussing your candidacy for an extremely important and very sensitive matter.

At the same time, the captain, listening to the words of the ambassador, sighed heavily and grunted:

  * Nothing to do about.

Jilk waited silently, without going into questions. Yas Lo, putting his thin hands in front of him on the table, looked in the face of Jilk.

  * I must...

  * Are you sure that there is no way to wait?- The ambassador asked, Yas Lo.- I would prefer to report the incident to the Council, wait for a positive response, and entrust this task specialists.

  * I am sure,- replied Ood Klam.- A lot of time has been lost. We cannot wait a single day! I informed the Council.- He turned to Jilk and asked him.- Young man, you lived and worked for a while at Or.

  * Yes. One and half year. I worked on the passenger spacecraft "Kit", the co- pilot.

Ambassador looked at Jilk's face for a while, and said:

  * Do you know the local language well?

  * I will not brag. I was told that excellent.

  * And there were locals in your crew, from Or?- Asked Ood Klam in the language of Or.

  * They were.- Jilk Ri answered him in the same language.- Our team was mixed. And then I went on vacation twice a month, lived in the capital of Or- Baar. I liked it there, ambassador.

  * He was written off to us,- said the captain.- He excelled. Sloven.

  * It doesn't matter,- ambassador Ood Klam sat back in his chair.

Ood Klam seemed to brighten his face, an expression of uncertainty in his eyes gave way to hope. All this evolution of feelings on the ambassador's face amused Jilk very much.

  * Quite a dubious venture,- said ambassador Yas Lo.

Captain Sholl said nothing.

  * Well, it's decided,- said ambassador Klam.- This is a young man, we want to entrust you. We have a very important and extremely sensitive business for you, on the success of which a lot depends.

  * I will say so, a lot in the Commonwealth,- said Yas Lo.

  * I will tell you the very essence of the situation. Or has no anti- gravity technology, and turning to CCW to give them these technologies, they are always denied. There are many reasons. This business is well known to everyone and stretches for a long time. List the a reasons does not make sense. We cannot give them antigrav until they are ready for it. For example, the problem of darks. These are intelligent felines that locals consider cattle. This is not permissible for us! Nevertheless, the orians do not abandon attempts to get anti- gravity. The orians have long switched to the use of electric energy everywhere, thermonuclear stations have been operating on the planet for almost a hundred years, they have refused to use their own launch vehicles in exchange for the help of the Commonwealth fleet. The Commonwealth, however, took over all passenger and cargo transportation to the orbit of the planet,- the ambassador ran a palm over his smoothly shaved cheek.- Now about what happened. Four months ago, one dawntian, a junior research fellow, violated the ban. Secretly, he brought antigrave drawings to the planet. You see, he decided to write a dissertation for his main work at the Dawn.

Heard interested Jilk and he could not resist a short comment:

  * Stupid.

  * Yes, it was stupid. And irresponsibility.

  * The blueprints stolen?

  * Logical assumption. No, they are lost. Theft on Or is rare. This employee was drunk at that moment. Hm. Drinking on Or is not uncommon. Even among the dawntians. A secret investigation began, we connected our employees. Yes, the drawings are lost. There is no doubt about that. That's for sure.

  * So the Or authorities have long had the blueprints,- concluded Jilk and shrugged.

  * It is doubtful. I would even say, excluded. Excluded so far. If the authorities had these drawings, they would have made a prototype a long time ago, and our equipment would have detected it. Work anti- gravity. A powerful antigrave. However, the one who found the drawings clearly has nothing to do with the authorities. We really hope so.

  * Why do you have such confidence?

  * Because the prototype anti- gravity is already working. We spotted him. And this is a very weak prototype of handicraft production. The laboratories of Or would have made a much more powerful mode! The one we spotted is children's fun. Now time is working against us, young man. The authorities of the planet do not have the ability to track the work of anti- gravity. But they will find this artisan. We cannot hope that the fate will keep this handicraftsman alone in secrecy and safety.

Jilk already understood what the ambassador was driving at, but still asked him:

  * What do you want from me?

  * Young man. Everything is simple. You will find this artisan and destroy the anti- gravity sample. Together with the drawings,- the ambassador his arms to the sides, as if saying thereby "that's all".- Our employees on the planet will not be suitable for this work- all the workers working there are registered with local special services and their movements are monitored.

Jilk chuckled condescendingly to the ambassador.

  * And how do you imagine this? In addition, I am also a dawntian.

And then captain Raul Sholl intervened:

  * Listen to me, boy, - he said irritably.- If it weren't for the circumstances, then your candidacy would not have been considered at all. And do not be impudent. Serious people, we offer you a serious business.

  * Sorry, ambassador Ood.

  * It's all right, young man. And so... We know where the artisanal antigrav is located. You will study the map of the area, get a manual anti- gravity recorder, and secretly go to Or. You will impersonate a local receive money and documents.

Something about Jilk made ambassador Ood interrupt his speech. He was silent for a while and asked, carefully examining the co- pilot of the "Wind":

  * Something doesn't suit you, young man?

And Jilk answered:

  * Flam.

  * White collar!- The captain snorted.

  * This is shameful.- Jilk straightened in his chair.- Not true. Pretending to be someone else, lying, deceiving people... Dodge.

Ambassador Ood Klam was tapping his fingers on the table, ambassador Yas Lo smiled quite a bit, captain Sholl wanted to say something, but was silent.

  * And what do you offer us, young man?

  * I don't know,- Jilk answered honestly.- I don't know.

  * Good.- Ood Klam did not look at Jilk, turned away.- Let's do that. Upon arrival in Or you will immediately go to the police station and declare your case. Tell them that they can help you in your search for antigravity. You can politely smile and say "please". I think they will be happy to help you.

  * Funny,- said the captain.

Ambassador Yas Lo, who had been silent before, looked into Jilk's eyes and calmly and somehow colorless, spoke:

  * Jilk, diplomacy is not always perfect. But we have a choice - to leave everything in its place or to take decisive steps.

  * I was taught not to lie,- he stubbornly declared.

  * We were at P-39,- said Yas Lo.- What do you think would happen if they were given anti-gravity?

  * Or and P-39 are not the same thing.

  * This is at first glance, Jilk. Of course, these are completely different worlds. Or is close to forming a prosperous society, and the day is not far off when they receive anti-gravity without any obstruction. But if this is done now, then such an acquisition can turn their society on the wrong path. This is not so much a question of Ora as a question of security of the Commonwealth.

He shrugged and said:

  * I lived there for a long time. They are good and responsive people, and even with anti-gravity they will not become worse. And what is there on Or, so terrible that the Council is embarrassed? I do not understand.

  * What's so terrible.- The Ambassador Ood Klam spoke. - And draks? This is the second intelligent life form on the planet. And the people of Or stubbornly refuse to recognize them. Draks, really big smart cats, they are smart and peaceful. But for the Or people, they are just cattle! And treat them like cattle. Is this an example sufficient, young man, or will we still argue?

Jilk considered what he heard.

Then he said to everyone:

  * I fly to Or under my name as a tourist. This is my last word. I will not grimace.

  * Stubborn ...- The captain struck the table with his fist with force.- They explained to you that ...

  * Raul, wait,- interrupted Yas Lo.- Of course, it's stupid fly to Or openly." Jill, we have no choice - we agree. Your decision is a choice of conscience, and no one has the right to tell you what to do. Ood, let's hope that everything works out. We have no other way.

******* *******

Chapter 3.

Drak Brick.

Sol Dean smoked a cigarette while sitting on a hill near a small red-bricked house with a sharp tiled roof. He drowned headlong in tall, fragrant greenery- it smelled like wormwood, аnd a fat, striped bumblebee, could not choose a landing site. Sol blew out a stream of tobacco smoke at him and smiled when the bumblebee with displeasure out of sight.

Summer is good.

He loved the summer.

Behind Sol in the single window of the house, the Big Star was reflected with bright fire. The morning passed, but before dinner it was still far away — about two hours.

The day, to be sure, turned out to be wonderful. On such days, don't really want to follow the example of hardworking bees and bumblebees. Sol looked dreamily into the high, bright sky, squinted and smiled.

Just like that.

He was well.

He must have been happy now.

Yes, everything coincided perfectly, and the beginning of the vacation, and a precious find, and dawntian's drawings were extremely precious to him.

Just in time.

It is annoying to find such a treasure somewhere in old age, in helpless old age, when you don't have the strength to move your legs, especially build anti-gravity. There was another thought that warmed his soul. No one, not a single person in the whole world, knew the secret of antigrave, and he, Sol Dean, (almost an electronic engineer, a former fiancé and a loser working in a regular factory), knows him. And not just knows, but has a ready-made working model of anti-gravity. Though not entirely successful, but fully justifying his hopes.

Sol was not special.

Or outstanding.

He was the most ordinary man.

An ordinary loser.

Thinking so, Sol grinned bitterly.

Of course, it is a shame when you are thrown out of the institute in the last year of your studies, and you go out into the street in bewilderment and confusion, like an abandoned dog.

What's next?

And the teacher with whom you butted fmany years, because of mutual hostility\- nobody knows where she comes from, overwhelms you on the exam with ad, and with triumph in his eyes, he tells you about the expulsion from the institute, ditional questions. Bitterly, when your girlfriend, already a bride, with whom you were going to live your whole life, and which, as you thought, loved, says to you, "we are not a couple". And this is the most painful blow.

Retired groom.

Not completed engineer.

Mercy blow.

Three years have passed since he became a former student and fiancé. Sol lived separately from his parents, rarely came to them, and tried not to bother them with his problems. Not long ago, he bought a small, country house in the country, with a very decent plot, and now he intended to have a good rest here. Calmly and without worries.

And then, unexpectedly, that day came- Sol found the drawings of the dawntian!

Fantastic luck.

And fabulous opportunities for a loser like him.

Although of course, judging by the good, he should immediately take these drawings to the police. Moreover, the state would generously thank him. Well, in a pinch, he could put this find in the mailbox of the Dawn embassy. And Sol firmly decided that he would do just that - Dawn would get his secret back, but ...

It was this "but" that decided all subsequent actions of Sol, regarding anti-gravity.

He decided to build a spaceship on an anti-gravity drive. At first glance, the task is not feasible, but he used to solve all the issues, as they come. If it is possible to build a sufficiently powerful anti-grav, then everything else does not seem so real anymore.

Having a sufficient amount of money, could buy a cabin excursion stratostat.

Of course it is expensive, but possible.

Even for him.

The rest - the modernization of the cabin, the installation of external systems, was already a technical issue. As much as his work colleagues would not laugh at him, calling Saul "an slack- baked engineer", he possessed the necessary knowledge and determination to implement his plan.

He took a cigarette from an almost empty pack, looked at it for a long and aimless, then took a smoldering cigarette from his mouth and lit it.

Wonderful weather and wonderful day.

He smiled broadly, thinking of the antigrave that he honestly "licked" from the blueprints dawntian.

For the first time, when he came to his house and closed the front door deafly, plunged into the study of drawings, Sol was literally stunned by the simplicity of the anti-gravity device. Stunned by the elegance of the thought of the one who invented it. He was annoyed by the fact that he himself had not guessed about it. On so much simple, it turned out the anti-gravity device.

Simplicity is the sister of talent.

He made three block panels from the sixteen indicated in the drawings, simplified something, and when he turned on the device, the anti-gravity model with a quiet whistle rose and hung under the ceiling, resting against rotten boards.

It was a triumph.

Sol shouted so loudly that he plucked his voice.

For the past two days, he has not done anything with antigrav.

He hid the blueprints in the house, under rotten boards in the floor.

The matter stopped.

Sol dreamed.

Dreamed about a flight to the worlds of the Commonwealth, about how he would be received at the Dawn, and would give him the opportunity to work in space. For example, at the construction of the Big Evacuation Transport- BET.

He was called that, Big.

It was a giant steel cylinder, still a "skeleton", which has been assembled for more than a hundred years.

Project- BET.

Two smaller transport vehicles, the Pole and the Arrow, were still under construction.

With a warm feeling, he thought of a bottle of vodka patiently waiting for him on an old table. Sol Dean flinched in surprise — someone was standing behind him. This someone, not particularly hiding, yawned loudly and painfully. Sol looked around, his smoldering cigarette sticking to his lower lip.

A stone's throw from him, sat a drak.

He seemed to be looking at a person without interest, then squinting from the bright light of the Big Star, he turned his hairy muzzle to the side. Sol looked at the drak's nervously wagging tail. Sol motionless froze in place.

The drak.

There were no drak's here.

From the cat family. Mass is greater than the mass of the average person. Intellectual. Claws - knives!

Fangs ...

Yes, they have serious fangs!

If you believe the news, then three years ago, they bit two tourists in the forest. After which the authorities staged a real hunt for them.

It lasted a few days. Exactly until the moment when the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds expelled from Dawn, ambassador Ora. The Ohr government, assured the Council of its "regret over this fact," for a long time convinced the neighboring worlds of the well-being of Ora, after which the ambassador was able to return to Dawn. In fact, they did not attack people, and were peaceful and restrained, and the story of the dead tourists seemed implausible to Sol.

Up to this point.

Good reasoning is always good until you come face to face with a hefty beast.

Sol stared at the drak, the drake looked at the coming birches. Sol didn't move, his breath caught even. A faint and dry breeze carried from drak, a sweetish, tart smell. Drak yawned widely, revealing two rows of flawless white fangs.

Somewhere on the right, a lone bee was buzzing.

Drak turned his big head, and looking at Sol, with yellow, cat's eyes, hoarsely asked:

\- Are you a tourist?

\- Who?

Drap was silent for a while, looking at Sol with boredom, and again asked him:

\- Are you here for a long time?

  * Who? I?

Drak sighed wearily and summed up:

  * Moron. Poorly.

  * I am an engineer! Nearly...

  * Like this?

  * And like this!

  * I did not graduate institute.

  * Kicked out. Clear.

  * This is my business.- Sol tried not to show drak his fear.

  * I do not argue. Are you probably drinking?

  * How to say?

  * Clear.

They looked at each other silently for a while, then drak asked:

  * Will you live here for a long time.

  * This is my house. I bought it. Recently.

  * Poorly. In vain I was waiting.

  * Waiting?

  * Waited for you to leave. I lived here before you.

  * So this was your hair all over the house?

  * Good,- the drake rose to his powerful paws, looked around.- Where to go now? All the best to you, human.

And, leaning on his hind paw, the striped black-gray drak slowly walked toward the forest, which began behind a young field overgrown with young trees. He walked along the tall grass, and several round burs hanging on his short tail swayed to the beat of his steps.

Sol silently watched drake go away. He looked at him with sympathy and awkwardness, despite the fact that not long ago, he was scared to death. And then Sol, unexpectedly for himself, called:

  * Hey wait!

Drak stopped, turned to him, and waited in silence.

Sol approached him, smiled silly and said, trying to give his voice more vigor:

  * What is your name?

  * Why do you need this?

  * My name is Sol, I'm almost an engineer.

Drak was silent, deciding something, then said:

  * My name is Brick. I am drak.

It seemed to Sol that under the rare mustache of the animal, thin, fur-covered lips moved in a smile.

  * Brik, I was thinking. Stay here. Live here as much as you want. Enough space.

  * Why do you need this? All my life I dreamed of having a talking cat?

  * It's just that I know what it is when there is nowhere to go.

Sol could not determine the emotions on the face of the animal.

  * There is a hunt. I didn't eat anything for two days.

  * I have canned fish! Do you want to arrange a real fishing trip? And Sol laughed out loud and easy. There are fishing rods, we'll catch fish in the river. There are a lot of fish.

******* *******

Chapter 4.

Or.

Jilk Ri looked at a customs official sitting across from him at a long, polished table.

The customs officer, a large, balding man, about forty years old, dressed in a green uniform with gold buttons, finished reading something in the monitor in front of him, looked again at Jilk's plastic passport, where on top of the photo there was a bright red inscription "Representative of CCW", and in the column "perquisition", it means "no perquisition."

The customs official said politely:

  * You have a tourist visa for a month, citizen Ri. How much time do you plan to spend on Or?

The bright rays of the morning Big Star, obliquely illuminated the table and the customs officer himself, funny shone on his bald head.

Jilk shrugged vaguely and said:

  * Honestly I do not know. I worked here.

  * You worked as a pilot of a passenger spacecraft. Are you planning to return?

  * It is hardly possible. They gave me a vacation.

  * I wish you a pleasant stay, Citizen Jilk Ri.

  * Thank you.

Jilk took the documents, put them in the breast pocket of his motley shirt and, picking up a small sports bag, went into the huge waiting room of the spaceport. There were a lot of people here. Tall, white pillars went high under the vaulted ceiling, painted with fragments of the epic construction of the Big Transport. A pair of kleins from the planet Kline passed by Jilk. They were strong, covered with short, brown fur, creatures, human-bear. florians with cat heads and a human body, tall, tried without need, not to communicate with representatives of other races. Jilk worked a lot with them, and could not say that communication with the florians was negative for him. He was just bored with them.

  * Dear passengers," the peppy female voice began, the announcement began, it sounded loudly under the arches of the hall. "The Dozheryuyush" spaceship starts from the platform number seventeen at ten o'clock, forty-five minutes. Repeat ...

Jilk crossed the hall, stepped out through the automatically opened glass doors and ended up in the city. The capital of the planet is the largest metropolis on Or, met with its clean, flooded with bright pale orange light Big Star streets. The white, dull walls of the tall buildings went into the piercing blue sky, as if woven from weightless clouds. It seemed that they glow from the inside and fill with this light, drowning in the lush greenery, the city quarters. The air smelled of flowers that grew on a lawn that he had just left behind.

He was glad to be back on Or. The time he spent on this planet seemed to him easy and fascinating. And although he did not do anything outstanding here, he liked the very atmosphere of that life into which he plunged. He headed to the bus stop, which was on the opposite side of the square, and, not having had time to go half the way, he heard a loud cry:

  * Jilk!

He looked back at the sound of voice. A young florianess walked quickly to him. She was wearing a light green blouse, cropped white trousers and the same white sandals. Her joyful smile revealed sharp, bright fangs.

  * It's you. Hello kitty. Did you recognize me?

Even if a thousand years had passed, he would still have recognized her. Her face covered with a thin, gray fur was friendly and mocking. Feline green eyes squinted.

Still, Jilk was a little confused.

  * Aaoli,- he smiled broadly at her.- There you go! Good afternoon!

Florianess laughed.

  * Jilk, my good one.- Her smile widened, her fangs bare.- Nobody ate you yet?

He did not immediately find what to answer:

  * You know, I'm not edible.- My captain is suffering from heartburn because of me.

This time the florianess laughed even louder.

  * As always, you are irresistible,- she laid her hand on his shoulder, and sharp claws touched his skin. It was necessary to bite you then. Will you work again at Or?

  * Not. I'm on vacation. I'm a tourist.

  * Again a tourist?

  * Yes.

  * For a long time?

  * Until I rest,- and he winked at her conspiratorially.- We will see.

  * So you have secrets? Not bitten the representative of the CCW took a vacation. So so so...

  * Aaoli,- he theatrically raised his head.- Can a tired man go on vacation? My ship has come a long and thorny journey, and I am a simple, outstanding pilot, want to enjoy the benefits of nature ...

  * You miserable clown!- Aaoli burst she laughing.

He waited for her to calm down. He did not want to tell her that her claws had already sunk into his skin.

  * Oh, sorry, my good one,- she took her hand off his shoulder.

  * And what are you doing on Or?

  * I'm waiting for my shift. My good. I am leaving in tow "Far". I'm an engineer. Or did you forget?

He almost asked her: "What happened to you?" But stopped short.

Bugboats.

Almost legends.

Departing in their huge spaceships into deep space to tow ice comets to New Floria.

Many of them will not return home, having disappeared into the Ice Belt, outside the inhabited worlds. Jilk knew there were those who no longer needed their home.

Crews of death.

The fleet is crazy.

They were not talked about loudly.

Legends circulated about them, one worse than the other.

For all they were ghosts fading into darkness.

Jilk looked into Aaoli's face, and could not find the right words.

  * And when do you leave, Aaoli?

Only for a moment did he see a brief flash of pain and suffering in her eyes.

Aaoli took a deep breath, and pretended to be funny, she said:

  * I'll be back in a year. Where to look for you?

Instead of an answer, Jilk, in some kind of childish impulse in which pity and sympathy mixed, suddenly hugged her tightly.

He didn't let go.

She did not move, did not respond to a hug. She stood motionless as a statue. Passersby passed by, but Jilk paid no attention to them.

  * Let me go, kitten,- Aaoli said calmly, and Jilk let her go.

He stood next to her, looking into her face and not knowing what to say.

She herself said:

  * We lived with my husband for four months,- she looked into his face.- And then he died.

  * Aaoli ...

  * We will all die, my good.

  * Aaoli ...

She smiled at him with a sad smile.

  * Jilk, don't make me weeper.

The tension is gone - everything was said.

They went into the nearest cafe, sat down at a free, yellow table by the large window, Jilk hung his bag on the back of a chair. A young waitress came up, he ordered fried eggs and tea. Florianess ordered meat stew and a glass of milk.

They discussed her upcoming work on "Far" for about an hour, and Jilk told her about his stay at P-39.

And suddenly, he told her why he flew to Or.

  * Antigrave ...

  * And I didn't tell you that,- he smiled meaningfully at her.

  * Kitten, you got into a bad business. This time. Are you alone here.

  * What a nice weather, ma'am.

  * Hm. Fool and fool. Jilk don't be like a noob. Do not go any where. Or is not Dawn and not Floria. For the sake of antigrav, they will tear off your skin and hang you on a fence to dry. Do you want me to go with you?

  * No, Aaoli. I have to do it insensibly. Аnd you are a conspicuous lady.

  * A fool and a noob. This is not a pleasure walk. Take me with you!

Jilk coughed theatrically and growled, in the manner of a florianin:

  * Aaoli...

  * Noob and a fool.

  * At least tell me where to look for you, if suddenly, something happens?

  * My path is voluminous and thorny.

She took his wrist in her hand, her claws digging into Jilk's skin.

  * Oh, you yobbo!

  * Aunt, you hurt me. I'll call the police,- Jilk laughed.

Florianess leaned back in her chair, looked at him, tilting her head to the side. Her cat's mustache trembled, her narrow nostrils widened:

  * Of all people, you are the most wonderful for me. It was necessary to bite you, there, by the river.

  * Aaoli. You would spit. I have a difficult character.

  * You don't change, kitten.

  * Orians really want to get antigrav. Do not flatter yourself at their expense. If the Orp authorities find out about antigrav, they won't let you out alive,- she lowered her voice, and spoke not loudly.

  * I do not think that everything is so bad. In addition, I am the representative of the Council.

  * Yeah. Council ... The Council will have a new representative.

  * Aaoli. Everything is not so bad.

  * The bad thing is that you do not change, kitten. You have not gone far from a noob. Good. I will be on Or for a few more days. If you need me, you can find me at the Starry Distance Hotel.

Florianess got up from the table and said:

  * See you, kitten- she left the cafe.

She always said goodbye in this way - got up and left.

Jilk looked into his empty glass, twisted it aimlessly in his hand, looking at the multi-colored rays of light playing on its glass faces.

He regretted his refusal.

And not because he was afraid to seek antigrav alone. Because he refused her help.

Kitten...

He left the cafe on the street, slowly.

Ahead was all day, and the search for antigrave.

******* *******

Chapter 5.

Sleep in the forest

Closer to dinner, Jilk got off the high-speed train at a small station In the suburbs of the capital.

The transparent doors of the train car behind him quietly closed.

light green, like a young cucumber, the train started off, and quickly gaining speed, disappeared. Under the canopy of the station, worried air darted. Bright Big Star, filled the whole world with its light. Choking day air gathered under the station's transparent, blue roof, high in the sky, rare, white clouds floated.

Five passengers — three middle-aged women and an older man with a young man — stood on the opposite platform, waiting for the train. On the concrete staircase going down from the platform, no one went up or down.

It was quiet and calm.

He straightened the belt from the bag on his shoulder and with a confident, sprightly step down the concrete stairs. He found himself at the fork of two dirt roads. Everywhere, wherever the eye could see, right up to the horizon, wide fields stretched, and the gray feather grass growing on them swayed under the oncoming wind, fabulous, silk waves. Around everything was empty.

Only the wind lifted into the air, yellow, road dust.

Judging by the instructions he received, should get on the bus number seven here, and take the asphalt road to the village of Kamenny. He personally studied the received map of the area, remembered the road signs, and the route of passenger transport.

There were two roads in front of him.

And both roads are unpaved.

Nowhere is a hint of asphalt.

Jilk looked at the dusty, bumpy road, and recalled the words of ambassador Klam.

  * I want everything to be successful, without surprises,- ambassador Ood Klam told him.- Everything is chewed to the smallest detail.

Jilk again looked around, looked up at the station overpass.

"Chewed to the smallest detail"

Above the canopy of the stairs, there was a sign with the inscription "Volunteer."

Jilk grinned and said:

  * Heh, volunteer. I wonder where you found your card, citizen ambassador.

He did not see any bus stop here.

The direction of the path needed by Jilk, no doubt lay along the road that led to the right of the overpass. Having unbuttoned the collar of his sweat-soaked shirt, he stepped out onto the road and went forward with a brisk pace.

It was almost twenty-five kilometers to the village.

To his right, in a dense shrubbery, a feathery little thing set up a row, their loud chirping, merrily over Jilk's head, like chimes of bells.

half an hour later a bus caught up with him. He heard the strained rumble of an electric motor and looked back. Picking up thick, yellow puffs of dust, and rolling over from side to side, along the bumps and pits of the bad road, an old, bright red bus rode. On its convex windshield, hung a square, white plate with the number seven. The bus drove slowly, and it looked old, like a sick, tired old man. The Big Star shone mercilessly, jumping bright, dazzling spots in the glass of the bus.

Jilk waved his hands.

The bus creaked with brakes and froze in front of it. Hopping into the friendly open doors, he looked around. In the dusty and stuffy cabin, there were only three passengers. They sat on soft leather seats, and languished in the heat. An elderly lady sat on the left by the window, next to a girl of about six. The girl, snub-nosed and curly, looked sadly out of the dusty window. And the young woman, in a simple, colored dress, sat by her left, holding at her feet a large leather bag. Jilk walked over to the elderly driver, a disheveled man, and asked:

  * Good afternoon. Tell me, will we go to the village of Kamenny for a long time?

  * Are you in a hurry somewhere, boy?- The driver laughed, looked out the window.- Sit down and enjoy the ride. We will drive for a long time. The car is old. My horse is already in years, so it's barely crawling. Are you to relatives or friends?

  * For business.

  * I see,- and the driver fell silent.

Jilk went to the very end of the cabin, and sat on a soft seat, extended his legs and began to look out the window.

And indeed, less than forty minutes passed before they entered the village. Turning to the right side, the bus rolled off the hill and, finding himself on a village street covered with new asphalt, calmly drove past low fences and two-story houses. In the gardens behind the fences, apple trees and plums grew magnificently, hiding in the shade of rare trees, passers-by went about their village affairs. Finally, the bus drove into an empty square, and stopped in front of a two-story, stuccoed building.

  * Good gentlemen have arrived,- the driver shouted with mischief.

Everyone stood up from their seats.

Jilk walked past the rows of seats, reached into the pocket of his trousers for money.

  * You and your bus - torment is continuous! Shook me all over. When will yours rotten bucket fall apart?! - An elderly woman grumbled loudly, helping the girl get down from the bus.

  * My glorious horse, it will delight you for a long time!- The driver laughed.

Jilk paid the driver.

He said goodbye to him:

  * Have a nice day, boy. Our people are friendly. You will like it with us.

Laughing, Jilk got out of the bus, waving a hand to the driver.

Five kilometers remained to the place where the antigrav should be. Jilk had to walk that part of the way. In the southwest, where there was antigrav, heavy thunderclouds were already climbing into the blue of a clear sky.

In the direction where Jilk was going now, there was one narrow, dirt road, but he decided that it would be better to go not along the road, but through the forest. He did not want to attract the attention of local residents. Soon the village remained far behind him. Jilk quickly got to the forest, and he was walking in the tall, dry grass, surrounded by trees and the smell of needles. Somewhere, a tireless woodpecker was hammering its beak on a tree, and invisible pichugs were talking to each other in a language they knew only.

Having plunged into the forest, Jilk found himself in a small clearing, overgrown with grass and low fern. He threw his gym bag in the grass and lay on his back, looking into the blue, transparent sky.

  * Half an hour,- he said to himself, and took a deep breath.- He will not go anywhere. Your antigrav.

It was good and calm for him to lie like that in the grass, breathe in the clean, forest air, saturated with the scent of pine needles, listen to the twitter of birds and imagine himself at home.

At dawn.

  * The main thing is not to sleep,- he muttered.

Somewhere in the distant heights, a suborbital airliner drew a white strip, and if relax, can easily imagine that the parental home is nearby. And his father, who had just come home from work, collects a model of an old sailing ship in his office and purrs, something under his breath.

And mom ...

A faint wind stirred the hair on his head, grass tickled his neck. Of course he will not sleep.

And closes her eyes.

Bad will not happen if lie down like this for half an hour.

He thought of Lina Sue.

Lina ...

He will tell her about his feelings for her. How dear it is to him.

Jilk flinched.

He looked at the dial of his watch, pressed one of the small buttons on the case, and a yellow arrow flashed on the watch immediately, indicating the direction of the working antigrave. He smiled pleased.

He will not fall asleep.

Some insect crawled along his cheek.

Jilk did not respond.

Mother.

He remembered her eyes, her voice, her smile ...

And Jilk, unnoticed by himself, fell asleep in a deep, calm sleep.

He saw mom. She was talking to Lina about something. And captain Sholl, who was standing nearby, grumbled with a rebuke:

  * Irresponsible.

And father looked at him, standing on the veranda, still young, without gray hair.

  * Jilk,- the father held in his hands a large model of an old sailing ship, with sails, with shiny yellow guns.- You are already an adult boy, and you can run this model yourself. Now you are the captain.

And so, he is already walking along a hilly path to the river, carefully holding a large ship, and the waves of the river sparkle in the bright rays of the Big Star.

The waves are gentle, calm, alluring ...

******* *******

Chapter 6

Ultimatum at customs.

In the West, it has long been dark, and only a narrow strip of sky near the horizon, still bearing timid traces of the past day, glowed faintly with blue light over a darkened river. They sat on the banks of a quiet river, looking at the calm water, in which the reflection of the rising moon floated.

Sol Dean, with a cigarette in his mouth, lay on the cooling sand, and a furry drrak sat a meter away.

The orange light of the moon, highlighted him contours with a red border. Brick's eyes glowed like two dull nightlights.

A fishing rod stuck in the sand stuck out in the darkness like a silver twig. A tin bucket glittered nearby.

  * You are a loser, Sol,- said Brick,- But you are a strange loser.

Sol released a stream of tobacco smoke towards the stars, asked him:

  * Why strange? Normal. Nothing strange.

  * Those whose life did not work out envy others. And they have no sympathy. You are the wrong loser.

  * In vain do you think so. You just don't know people well. People not brute. Among people there are many kind and responsive. Although of course, there is something brute in us.

Sol laughed muffledly, the hot ashes from his cigarette falling on his bare chest.

  * I know people well,- the drrake was silent for a long time, then continued to speak. - I was still small, when Malia Ouf took me to her home. I don't remember my parents. What with them, I don't know. And then Malia brought Layksy home. Living in an apartment building with two ramps is a dubious pleasure. Living in an apartment building with two drraps is a dubious pleasure. But Aunt Malia was an amazing person. She worked as a teacher of literature at school, her salary wouldn't be extended, there was nobody to help her. Neither children nor relatives. You know, Sol, that was the best time of my life. And in Layksy's life. The best time. Even despite the walks.

  * Walking? And why is it bad?

  * Leash, Sol. Leash and collar.

Sol wanted to say something, but fell silent. Looked at him.

  * The neighbors insisted. So she led us out in collars. Like dogs. They wrote to the city hall. And then we always went out in collars. They could not fault us differently. We lived quietly, peacefully, and there is no smell from us, like from cats. Well, you understand what I'm talking about.

  * Yeah.

  * When Layksy and I grew up, we became husband and wife. We had no one but each other. And then Aunt Malia decided to change her apartment, into a small house outside the city. For the sake of us.

Brick was silent for a long time.

It was audible, only the rustle of calm waves coming from the shore.

  * And then what, Brik? What happened next?

  * Later? We have not moved. Aunt Malia is dead. She had no relatives. The social service buried her, and the state took the apartment. We were kicked out into the street. We are not cats, Sol. Imagine what is happening to you like this.

Sol did not answer.

  * We settled in a forest outside the city, in an abandoned country house, and everyone was going to go to the East Coast. To the reserve.In that day I was at work. In the village. I became a shepherd. It turned out of me, not a bad shepherd.

Brick's big head swayed in the dark. He looked at Sol.

  * She was killed, my Layksy. I found her in our clearing. These were the people. And there was a lot of her blood. And here it is ...- Drak pulled something shiny from his leather belt and handed it to Sol.- This is a keychain. He already lost his smell, but I will remember him all my life. Someday I will meet him. And I find out. People, these are cattle. Cruel cattle. Do not be angry, but it is. Maybe you're different, I don't know,- he put the keychain back in his belt.- She said that we can be happy, even here. The day will come, and I will meet my Layksy, and I won't lose her.

Shocked, Sol was silent. His cigarette went out long ago.

Just a few hours ago, Brick seemed to him a kind of talking beast.

  * Brik,- Sol's voice hoarse.- You don't know people well. Many bastards, but many good people. People are not cattle. No, not cattle. Do you want to fly with me? Together! On Dawn!

  * On your board?

In the afternoon, Sol showed him a model of antigravity and, amazed by what drrak saw, for a long time silently looked at a wooden platform hanging from the ceiling.

  * I'll build a spaceship.

  * Yes, I already heard that. You will save money, buy a stratostat cabin. It will not happen.

  * Why not?

  * Because you're a talker. Barber's cat.

Sol wanted to answer Brick, but Brick said:

  * It smells of smoke. Something is burning.

  * Nothing is burning.- Sol noisily inhaled the air with his nostrils.

Drak looked back to the side where, behind the dark birches, was their house.

  * We have guests, Sol.

Drrak stood up.

He looked into the darkness of the night, and there in that darkness a faint light flashed, staining the sky above the birches in gray and yellow.

Sol jumped to his feet.

  * There are blueprints and antigrav on the table!

  * Don't go there, Sol,- Brick's voice was quiet and calm.- Spit on it.

  * You do not understand!

Sol Dean ran toward the house, struggling through the bushes and the dark, asleep trees.

Thinking a little, drrak hobbled after him.

Near the house, next to an empty rusty barrel, the darkness of the night was lit by the fire of a flaming bonfire. In the glass of the window, cheerful flashes of light were reflected. In a fire, engulfed in fire, sheets of drawings burned. On top of the bonfire, there was a wooden platform of Sol, there was nothing to save there. And next to the bonfire was a middle-aged stranger dressed in a shirt unbuttoned to his belly button and dark sports pants. In heavy, hiking boots. With a long stick, the stranger straightened the fire.

He looked the same age as Sol.

The stranger turned towards the breathless Sol, and smiled affably.

  * Good evening,- he said.

Sol, not believing his eyes, looked into the fire. A drrak stopped beside him. His cat eyes shone like two red beehives.

The stranger picked up the bag at his feet, and threw it at Sol's feet. Said:

  * This is for you. Money. I was told that this is enough. If there is little, you will get more.

Sol, shocked by what he saw and heard, as in a dream turned his gaze from his bag to the fire.

  * And you argued with me,- Brick sighed softly. \- Cattle.

Then Sol rushed at the smiling stranger, cried out loudly:

  * Crud! Crud! ...

They rolled on the ground, pounding each other.

  * Crud, - wheezed Sol.- Bastard!

  * Moron!- The stranger answered.- A greedy mug!

With their struggle they raised a cloud of dust around them ...

******* *******

Sol's nose looked like a hefty plum, swollen, and still bleeding.

Jilk was sitting across from him.

He gently touched with his index finger his left eye, already swollen with swelling.

His lower lip, swollen and dissected, seemed whimsically protruding.

They sat in a small room, at a wooden, rickety table - dirty, disheveled and scratched.

Brick was here too.

He listened carefully, with his forepaws on the table. Occasionally tapped the surface of the table with his long sharp claw.

In the right corner of the room, on a plastic container, was a brand new, portable power unit, and an electric flashlight hung on the ceiling, nailed with a nail. This lamp flooded the whole room with bright yellow light.

  * Why not?- Sol asked.- You will tell them that ...

  * Yes, because!- Jilk touched his swollen lip.- I tell you, I don't have such authority.- Clear? I am a pilot.

  * You are a representative of the Council of Worlds!

  * So what?

  * Do you have permission to climb into other people's homes?- Sol asked him. Can you listen to me.

  * I can. But don't try to blackmail me. This number will not work.

  * If you do not help us, then I will build a spaceship anyway.

  * Recently there was" me, "and now" us.- Jilk grinned.

  * There are two of us.- Sol answered him.- Me and Brig.

  * This is not serious. I do not have such authority.

  * He doesn't have such authority, Sol,- Brick said, peering into Jilk's face.- But he is good at climbing houses of other people. You left the drawings in vain on the table.

  * I wanted to hide it later,- said Sol and shook his head.

They were silent.

  * Sol explained everything to you incorrectly.- Brik began to speak patiently.- You give us a simple word of dawntian that you will talk about us with the members of the Council.- And that's all.

  * I did not promise you anything! And I do not give false promises!

  * He has his own principles, Sol,- said Brik with a sigh.- He does not give empty promises. It is commendable.

Jilk looked at Brick, Brick looked at Jilk.

  * So!- Jilk slapped his palm on the table.- You have the money. The money you love. Why do you need to Dawn? There is no money at the Dawn.

  * Who told you that we love money?- Brick asked him wearily.- Sol, do you like money?

  * He spat in my soul,- he answered.- And now he mocks, makes a fool of himself.

  * And you didn't talk rubbish!- Jilk leaned back in his chair. You see, they want to evacuate.

Jilk was sitting with a naked torso, his dirty, torn shirt, hanging on the back of a chair. His expression was stubborn.

  * Do you understand that you killed all hope in us? You sentenced us...

  * I don't condemn or doom anyone. You not only took someone else's, but also demanded the impossible.- Jilk said the last words, raising his voice.

  * Naff off! You are not a man, you are a stone wall!

Brick again said to Jilk:

  * Nobody asks you to lie. We ask that you, when talking with a member of the Council, mention that you have given us a promise. You have a dawntians, it's not customary to lie.

  * It's blackmail,- Jilk said mockingly.- You twist my hands.

  * Jilk,- drrak continued.- Just give us a promise that you will defend our hope. The word dawntians means a lot in the Commonwealth. And let your bosses decide the rest.

  * My poor, Or,- said Sol.- Brick... For many years he has been asking for this antigrav. And he is under their very nose. Right here.- And Sol tapped his forehead with his index finger.

  * Sol, this is ugly,- said Brick.

  * I cannot promise you that which will not happen,- cried Jilk.- Dawn does not accept everyone. I won't promise you anything!

  * He will not promise,- said Brick to Sol.- He has principles.

Slowly, Sol took one cigarette out of the pack, lit it from the lighter, and looking into Jilk's eyes said:

  * Take the bag of money.- Give your ambassador. We don't need your money. We won't tell anyone about anti-gravity. Now get the hell out of here. Get out, and do not forget about your principles.

******* *******

Ambassador Ood Klam stood by the large, bright window of the embassy's office, and looked at the street lit by daylight, was silent. Klam has already expressed himself about the request of the pilot, even shouted in annoyance.

Calming down a little, he spoke again:

  * Young man. You completed the task, and at the same time failed it. Promise on behalf of the Council!

  * They went to meet me.

  * We cannot, for any reason, take anyone away. Authorities Or ... There is a certain order of things, which is unacceptable to violate.

  * Antigrave is a serious enough reason.

  * Return the radar.

Jilk removed the watch from his hand and carefully laid it in front of him on the polished table.

  * I already regret contacting you, Jilk Ri. You are free.

Jilk got up and, without saying goodbye, headed for the exit from the ambassador's office.

  * Have you thought about how they will live?

  * Drrak Brick, very peaceful and prudent ...

The ambassador impatiently waved his hand, said:

  * Is this yours, Sol Dean?

  * He is a pretty decent guy. Engineer.

  * A decent guy. I read his dossier. He is a drunkard. He was expelled from the institute. Lives in a hostel at the factory. Reviews about him there ... And to such a person, you dared to promise on behalf of the Council!

  * Citizen Ambassador. Sol, of course, is not a model of sobriety. But he is a good person, and he suits us.

  * He beautifully decorated you, young man.

  * Sol is a talented engineer. Speaks dawntian language. Can be trained to work in space. This is his dream!

  * Well, everything is clear with him. And under what pretext do you offer me to bring drrak out? He has nothing to do with antigrave. As far as I understand.

  * They are with Sol, friends.

  * Ah, friends ?! Probably drrak also has quite a few friends who can be attached at Dawn.- Ambassador Klam could not help laughing. - This is ridiculous! Vaudeville!

Stopping in the open office door, and looking at the ambassador, Jilk Ri told him:

  * I gave my word. The word zaryadina and a member of the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds, citizen ambassador. And Sol and Brik.

Two hours later, while standing in the spaceport building, an elderly customs officer carefully examined the fresh documents of Brick and Sol.

Next to him stood an intelligence officer, either in civilian clothes, in a gray suit, in black boots and completely bald.

  * Did Sol Dean get Dawn citizenship?- He asked.

  * Yes,- said Jilk.

Sol and Brick stood silently beside him.

The officer smiled mockingly, said:

  * Two hours ago? By urgent order of Ambassador Dawn to Or?

  * Yes.

  * May I ask what their merits are before Dawn?

  * It's CCW's business.- Jilk answered him.

  * And drrak is recognized as a citizen of Dawn?

  * Yes. He is a citizen of Dawn.

  * This is unheard of!

  * I have to delay their departure, for an indefinite period, for a detailed trial of this case,- the intelligence officer said flatly.

And then Jilk Ri spoke with the intonation of Yas Lo forerunner of the thunder:

  * I, Jilk Ri, are the actual representative of the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds. And given me the right, I exclude any obstacle for the departure of these two citizens of Dawn. Up to the exclusion of Or from the CCW.

  * You cannot have that right, citizen Ri!

  * And you check it! ...

They arrived on the «Wind» in the embassy shuttle, three days later. The spaceship was waiting for them.

The guests were personally met by captain Scholl. Standing near the entrance hatch of the lock chamber and looking expressively at Jilk, the captain said dryly:

  * Ambassador Klam urged me to keep a close watch on you, Jilk Ri. Very strongly advised.

******* *******

Chapter 7.

Concert.

The lounge in the spaceship, occupied the entire space of the fourteenth tier. Spacious, with a high ceiling, it could accommodate up to a thousand people. In fact, it was a place for rare, but massive entertainment on the "Wind". Along the perimeter of the hall, in the walls of milky color, hexagonal portholes stretched from floor to ceiling. Stars shone brightly in the portholes.

Two days ago, four hundred and eighty installers arrived at the spaceship - the charge, the florians, the gelemons and the rissolans. They were delivered to the Wind, shuttles from the Center station.

Animation came to the ship.

The Center station was in the orbit of the planet Fog, and was a transshipment base between the worlds closest to the Fog, and the linear spaceships that delivered the installers to the transports under construction.

The hall was brightly lit by light panels located high below the ceiling. The guests entered the hall through three open walkways, in small groups, no one was in a hurry. More than two hours were left before the concert. Orchestras on the stage, and their assistants, installed equipment, dragged bulky boxes, carefully placing them against the wall.

Jilk Ri stood next to captain Sholl and the second assistant captain, tall, strong- built, risolian, Wang Holi. All three were wearing blue pilot suits. The fourth in their group was Autumnal Rustle.

He was no more than forty-five years old, the wide, good-natured face of Autumnal was carefully shaved, his black eyes looked perky.

  * My friends,- he said, rubbing his pink palms, with short, thick fingers.- Everything will go fine. Glitter concert will go down in the history of the Commonwealth. This will be a momentous event. His tour of the worlds of the Commonwealth will be epoch-making! This name will remain for centuries! Evening! Glitter Evening! You yourself will hear and see everything, and will begin to tell your children about it.

  * All this is good,- said Raul Sholl, looking at the group of dawnians who were now entering the hall.- Just don't destroy my ship.

The Autumnal, laughed out loud, he looked pleased.

  * You are the director of this mess, and I will ask you.

  * Mess!- He exclaimed.- Glitter Evening is history already! His songs are sung in all worlds!

  * I know, I know.- Wang Holi smiled a simple smile.- My son has these songs.

Autumnal famely patted him on the shoulder, said:

  * I am glad that you are not a hypocrite. I have been leading Glitter for many years. And you, young man? Probably also listening to Glitter Evening?- He asked Jilk Ri, who, with his hands in the pockets of his blue trousers, was standing nearby.

The golden badge of the CCW representative shone brightly on Jilk's chest.

  * Who? I?- He tried to discreetly examine visitors entering the hall, hoping to see Lina among them.- I am not a special admirer of his talent. I heard, of course.

  * I do not believe my ears! You are young ... - Autumnal seemed puzzled. - However, everyone has their own tastes.

  * Why do you need this junk, Autumnal?- Holi asked him, and casually pointed towards the wall, where three strong florians and a few people pulled up hefty boxes covered in black leather, set up round drums, connected sparkling chrome spotlights.- This is not a museum. If it were not for the Cosmo Council, we would never have allowed you to clutter up our cargo hold, with this junk.

A wave of laughter and exclamations swept across the hall. To applause, a crowd of people and florians parted before a group of Autumnal assistants who rolled a musical instrument to the stage. It was a bizarre-shaped box, shining with black polish, on the bends of its sides.

  * What is this?- Asked Captain Shall asked Autumnal.

  * I think it's a sarcophagus of Evening.- Holi smirked.

  * It's a piano!- He exclaimed, not noticing their sarcasm.- The instrument is unique. And inimitable. They played such instruments four hundred years ago! And we also have saxophones, double bass ...

  * Aren't you afraid that they will fall apart? Tell me honestly. Have you robbed a museum?

  * We made them according to the drawings of ancient instruments!

  * Want to look original? To surprise the crowd?

  * You yourself will see and hear everything.- Autumnal waved a hand.- I cannot explain it to you in words.

  * Why then?- The eyelids of Holi squinted.- We are pretty smart.

  * You?- Autumnal looked in the direction where the black piano made its way to the stage.- You are a dense and dark person.

Holi laughed out loud. He clapped a hand on Autumnal's shoulder, and said good-naturedly:

  * I hope you will not disappoint me.

  * You will not be disappointed by Glitter Evening! You would have dispersed this crowd. The concert is still far away, but it is already impossible to break through to the stage.

  * I'll go there. Everything must be personally controlled.

And he went to the side of the scene, where the hectic activities of his assistants were in full swing.

Jilk peered into the crowd, looking for Lina Sue in it.

And could not find her.

******* *******

It seemed that all the installers who were on the "Wind" came to the performance of Glitter Evening. The lighting was dimmed, and the darkened space of the hall was illuminated by flashes of light, and by spotlights beaming from the side of the stage. The music thundered so that the air in the hall shook, lively, perky. On the brightly lit stage, between the musicians, Glitter Evening stood and sang, with a guitar, legs wide apart, in a white suit, embroidered with a sparkling biser.

Behind him stood a group of singing florian women and women dressed in colorful clothes.

The drums were beating violently, and the high helemont behind the black piano seemed to be beating in a hysterical fit. Saxophones - four dawntians, on the right side of the Shine, shouted - deftly, defiantly, saucily.

Music- rhythmic, exciting emotions, pulsed in the space of the hall, like an invisible, alarmed heart.

Glitter Evening in the language of Dawn. In the style of "jump and roll."

He sang in dawntians.

  * You won't become his wife, baby,

never.

Not for him!

The choir behind him sang:

  * No, no, baby.

  * He's an installer, baby.

His house is Transport.

His family is a stars.

You don't need him!

  * Daughter, daughter!

Come to your senses.

Or I'll tell dad everything! ...

The floor under Jilk's feet was trembling.

At some point, it seemed to him that he saw in the crowd, Lina's face.

The song ended with the last, high chord. The crowd roared.

Many voices shouted two words:

  * Happy Star!

The Glitter laughed and his voice thundered under the ceiling of the hall:

  * I'm glad you guys are so welcome. Hope the captain doesn't disperse our humble party?

The audience laughed.

  * All that we have in this life is hope. Even if there is nothing to hope for.

He took a few sad chords on the guitar and sang:

  * You, my lucky star.

You came from the children's sweet

dreams.

And don't give up

don't betray me.

I'm going to your sad call!

You, my lucky star.

Saxophones quietly sang their song.

  * And in the darkness of the night,

and in heart trouble,

only you, hope for me.

Only you tell me about

eternal.

Only you will save the fire

from the despair of fire.

You, my lucky star!

The voices behind him went high.

  * Let them tell me that this is only

luck

and you are alone now.

I know you will show me salvation.

Sincere light from above.

You, my lucky star!

Jilk listened and involuntarily imbued with the words and music of the song, looked at the scene and, ashamed of himself, furtively wiped away the tears that suddenly appeared in his eyes.

  * You, my lucky star!

******* *******

Chapter 8.

In the name of the Council!

A week later, "Wind", passing the orbit of Svetlaya, not stopping anywhere else, was heading towards the Big Transport.

Big Evacuation Transport- BET.

Twelve days of flight.

According to the schedule.

Drrak Brick, in the first week of the flight, disappeared on the deck of the florians and, as Jilk rightly believed, tried to find friends among them. After some time, Brick stopped his visits to the florians, sat sadly in his cabin, did not enter into conversations and did not ask about anything.

Jilk almost never saw a drrak- the co-pilot of the spaceship had a lot of his urgent matters.

Sol became friends with the engineers with Or, waiting for the ship to arrive at BET, he was impatient to see everything with his own eyes. Then the "Wind" will go to Dawn, and Sol and Brick will go to their new homeland.

It happened somehow by itself.

Jilk met Lina on the second tier of the apartment complex, suddenly, face to face, and immediately decided to talk to her. What has been so impossible, unthinkable for him, has happened.

She stood in front of him, light panels illuminated her figure in a white jumpsuit, and spoke to Jilk about something, with a warm, slightly mocking smile. He hardly listened to her. Looking into her dark eyes, breathing in the smell of her perfume, Jilk, as if deciding to jump from a height, suddenly spoke:

  * Lina,- he took her warm palm in his hand.- Lina, I want you to listen to me.

The girl looked in his face in surprise:

  * This is probably something serious, Jilk?

  * Serious. I...

  * Is this something important?- Her face was somewhat embarrassed, but Lina's lips continued to smile.- Very, very?

Jilk blurted out in one breath:

  * Lina, listen to me. I want to tell you ... that I have long been ...

She interrupted him and said softly:

  * Jilk, it's very good that you decided to talk to me. We will definitely talk to you, but not now.

  * When?

  * I promise that as soon as there is free time, we'll talk, Jilk. To Dawn. Funny. I have long known what you want to talk to me about.

And she went from him, light and bright as a bewitching dream vision.

They will talk.

Until dawn.

So soon.

He rushed down the hall to the elevator shafts.

At the bend, he almost ran into the installers- dawntians, apologized, smiling stupidly, thinking about Lina's words.

On the same day, he sent a message to his parents. The answer came soon. On the videophone screen, father and mother stood embracing and looking at him:

  * Son, my mother and I are very happy for you. We look forward to your return with the bride.

Jilk was happy.

Arriving in his cabin, he lay down on the bed and immediately fell asleep in a serene sleep.

Even in a dream, he sometimes smiled.

And in the middle of the night he was awakened by the piercing, abrupt roar of an emergency siren and the voice of captain Shol, speaking from the sound panels:

  * Alarm! To the entire crew and passengers! Urgently take their places in the rescue shuttles! I repeat ...

Unaware of anything awake, Jilk hopped in the darkness of the cabin on one leg, trying to stick the other into his trouser leg.

Above the cabin door, a green panel burned.

Anxiety training.

Anxiety training?

For the first time in a year!

Alarm!

Alarm!...

******* *******

Raul Sholl turned on the radio, and the yellow call indicator on the dashboard went out. The voice of Iel Mavr sounded in the compartment of the captain's cabin, and his face on the screen, a broad face with a short thick mustache, came to life.

  * Hello, Raul. This is an emergency message, and I want, so far, its content to remain between us. You will understand everything after I tell you the circumstances of what happened. Pauses in radio communications will be about ten minutes. I want you to remove everyone who can hear our conversation. I'll wait.

Raul Sholl extended his hand to the left edge of the dashboard, where two rows of multi-colored buttons of the internal selector were located, and touching one of them, he said:

  * No one hears us, Iel. Speak.

He mechanically glanced at the watch on his arm, sat in a comfortable, easy chair and waited for an answer.

Iil Mavre \- First Secretary of the Department of Space Communications. Scholl could not recall that the Moor had contact with the Wind, personally. This has never happened before.

The waiting time has passed. Iil Mavr reappeared on the communication screen. He spoke:

  * Of the powerful and high-speed spacecraft, only your "Wind" is located in the hundred and twenty sector. You may not know yet. There was a disaster on Fourth Transport. On the Big Star there was an outbreak of the third category, a powerful discharge of matter and radiation. This has not happened for a long time. Theoretically, it could be assumed, and the CCW repeatedly raised this question about the transfer of the Fourth into a high orbit. But now ...- Iil was silent for a few seconds, and then continued to speak.- They did not have time to evacuate, most likely, everyone who was at Montage died. Now the details of what happened are being clarified, but the following is already obvious- more than two thousand installers and engineers died. Communication with the Fourth Transport, no. Rescue spacecraft will arrive in place, after a maximum of three days. But we have an insoluble problem, captain. Interorbital tug "Agile". They tow a class "B" section. This section is three kilometers across. Towing is standard. "Agile" goes with cruising speed, does not get in touch. The flight path is extremely accurate, and they fly aiming. On the Fourth Transport. Collision is inevitable. This will happen in thirty-six hours. Expected consequences - irreparable destruction of the Fourth Evacuation Transport. Thirty-eight years of construction, down the drain. Plus two decades of preparatory work. But that is not all, Raul. Our experts say about the possibility of a second flash on the Big Star. About the outbreak in the same sector. Let's leave physics to physicists. There was much debate in the Council that this was impossible, but the impossible happened, and most likely will happen again and again. Your "Wind" is the only spaceship in this sector that can prevent the collision and death of the Fourth Transport. Others do not have time. But you can die there. I speak as it is. There is such a possibility. Raul. You can refuse this task, and no one will blame you for this. It will be only your choice. Only yours. I am waiting.

Raul Sholl answered without hesitation:

  * The "Wind" will be there. Let me know towing instructions and operation details.

Ten minutes later, the image of Iil Mavr appeared on the screen.

  * Good, Raul. To cope with a flying structure, maybe one pilot. You need to arrive at the Fourth Transport and use any of the pusher tugs there. But with this option we are probably already late. But there is a second option. And he is the most reliable and simple. "Wind" is not a tug.It will be enough for you with a soft push, to reject the flying section and throw it off course on the Fourth Transport. Then she will be picked up and towed. This is not so important. Raul. The "Wind" marching engines can get you there quickly. The construction site should be tilted to the side. Complete the task and immediately leave the sector, a second flash can occur at any time. The operation will require two pilots, three engineers and a nuclear physicist. All the rest are unjustified victims. That's all, Raul. That's all.

  * We will be there.

Captain Raul Scholl made several intercom calls. Five minutes later, five entered captain's cabin.

The second pilot from the second shift is Tim Ot, the engineers are Wu Dune, Lina Sue and Light Sparkling, and the nuclear physicist Nook Trust. And ten minutes later, the second pilot, from the second shift, Jilk Ri, woke up from a training alarm.

******* *******

He sat in a soft chair, in the front row of the brightly lit passenger compartment of the "Drop- 7" shuttle. Of the twenty-six seats, not a single one was empty - the crew members took their places according to the schedule of evacuation procedures.

Fal Skin is the team's electronic engineer, a tall, well-shaven brunet, in a green, wrinkled overalls, sitting next to Jilk Ri, silent, disheveled and, as usual, displeased. Jilk's place was located near the side, near the porthole, opposite him was the back of the next row of seats.

  * Why are you spinning?- Jim Dong-ximanian, forty-three years old, with a long face, under a hat of blond hair, asked him with a grin.- Lost someone?

  * No.- Jilk sat still, calmed down.

  * Three minutes are left before undocking the shuttle,- the voice of the on-board computer informed them.

Jilk fastened his seat belt, waited.

Emergency shuttles were controlled automatically, without human intervention, although in front of the bow compartment there was a pilot's chair with a control panel.

For an emergency.

"It's a pity that we are not in the same shuttle,"- he thought.

  * One minute left before undocking!

Sharp beeps announced the beginning of the last countdown.

Jilk looked out the porthole. Through the blackness of space, small fireflies of stars gazed at him.

The Great Nebula peered out from above, amid the shiny sheathing of the ship. The flashing side lights of the shuttle illuminated its bulging outward tanks with yellow and green flashes of light.

Click-click! ...

Mechanical captures worked - a series of deaf clicks penetrated the silence of the shuttle compartment, and a faint hum of shunting engines was already heard. The shuttle swayed smoothly, and began to move away from the spaceship, steel trusses flashed in the windows, and after a few moments, "Drop-7" was in independent flight. Located on the ceiling of the cabin, flat screens of the external review showed the bulk of the spaceship moving away from the shuttle.

Numerous "Drops" dropped from the "Wind" - dull-nosed, with narrow flattened karma, synchronously stepped aside, moving away from the spaceship to a safe distance.

There were a lot of them. Like a large flock of silvery, bizarre birds.

Jilk involuntarily stared at the spaceship.

  * Says Captain Raul Sholl,- the captain's voice sounded in the shuttle's cabin — calm, mundane. - We have an emergency situation that requires urgent action.- And he briefly talked about what happened.- I apologize for the fact that I did not arrange a general gathering of the crew. Everything has already been decided. Your shuttles will be picked up by the "Granit" spaceship going here.

In the portholes of the starboard side, "Wind" smoothly went aside. Its shunting engines lit the nozzles with blue fire. The spaceship was leaving the emergency shuttles to a safe distance to turn on the propulsion main engines. Jilk listened to the captain's words, looked out of the window at the spaceship, and he was overcome by a feeling close to panic.

Lina!

With a quick movement of his hand, Jilk opened the metal lid of an individual radio remote control. Two rows of luminous buttons were in a velvet niche, and black headphones with a microphone. The key with the inscription "external communication", lit up with a green light.

  * Says the second pilot of the ship, Jilk Ri. Captain, I must be present on the ship! I ...- His voice broke.

The captain's face on the communication screen didn't change expression - calm and some kind of indifference.

A computer voice sounded in the headphones:

  * Private message to Jilk Ri, frequency 107-14. Sender...

He did not believe what was happening, it seemed to him insistently that now, in some unknown way, everything would change, and he would arrive on the spaceship and stand next to Lina Sue.

  * Hello, Jilk.- Her voice sounded in the headphones, and her face appeared on the screen.- Sorry, I have little time.- You and I should have talked?- And she smiled at him.

There was no sense in answering, there was a record.

  * I know, Jilk, you're in love with me.- You are a good guy, and I consider you my true friend. I don't want you to continue to be in error. I am is engaged. I have a fiance. He's the same fidget like you. Jilk, you will understand what I want to tell you. You do not love me. You love your love. It will pass. You will still meet the girl whom you will love and you will certainly be happy with her. Sorry I couldn't talk to you personally. Circumstances. I hope that we will return home soon. To the Dawn.

The communication screen has gone out.

Jilk hit the "call" button, and already shouted in a voice breaking in a ridiculous screech:

  * Captain, bring her back!- He shouted.- I command you to stop the Wind, in the name of the Council!

The spaceship answered him with flashes of lights.

  * I am a representative of the Council of the Commonwealth! That's an order!

There was silence in response. He shouted in the silence of a silent salon, threatened, begged.

  * In the name of the Council! Lina! Lina! ...

******* *******

Chapter 9.

Pilot from the "Wind".

Scalt Bo, a fifty-year-old man, fat, not tall, with small, closely set brown eyes, entered the spacious office of the first secretary of the Department of Space Communications Iil Mavra.

He came in with broad, heavy steps, unbuttoning the collar of his snow-white shirt, in a light gray suit. Black shoes, polished to shine, sparkled on the parquet lit by the Big Star.

  * Good afternoon, Iel.- Scalt Bo extended his hand to the man sitting at the table, and then fell heavily into a deep, soft armchair.

  * Well, it's hot! You should at least open the window. You sit here like a gin in a bottle!

  * Air conditioning is working. You'll get cold. \- Iil Mavr with restrained discontent in his gaze, looked at the visitor.

  * Yes? I didn't notice.

Long years of acquaintance did not make them friends.

  * I don't have much time, Scalt.

  * And where is your hospitality?

  * You're already here.

  * You can't get through, Iil. I had to make a scandal in the secretariat of the commission so that they would allow me to meet with you . You, Iil, are becoming inaccessible. This is bad. It spoils your reputation.

Iil Mavr leaned back in his chair, put his hands on the soft armrests and looked into Bo's eyes, said:

  * I did not want to waste my time on you.

  * This is even worse than I thought of you. You will listen to me, or I'll go to the Council!

He laid on the polished table, a puffy, green folder.

Scalt Bo, as if only that noticed standing on the table, a glass carafe with water. Next to the carafe was an empty, glass beaker. Scalt immediately took advantage of them. While he was drinking, Iil silently watched sweat appear on his neck. The visitor put an empty glass on the table and grunted.

  * And you, without ceremony.

  * I do not like all these your offices. And so, let's get down to business.

  * In vain appeared. I have already studied your case.

  * You know me, Yael. You need to call this girl who sits at the reception to get rid of me.

By the word "girl," Bo meant the secretary- girl Friday- floriahess at the reception.

  * I am listening you.

  * My laboratory made a huge discovery, and in my opinion ...

  * In short.

  * And in my opinion, no one except me and my project ...

Iil Mavr grimaced in exasperation and said:

  * I don't have time your gab. Why did you come?

  * I need a ship.

  * Which the?

  * Spacecraft of increased protection of class "C". With my ship upgrade. The changes will be serious.

Iil Mavr looked out of the closed window. There, in the blinding light of the coming summer, rare clouds floated across the sky, and the skyscraper in front of him seemed to be engulfed in fire.

  * And you are insolent,- he said.- I thought you were going to ask for a heavy tow. And you, the cruiser, you want. I don't have time to discuss your nonsense with.

  * Iil, I'm talking about an expedition to the Object. She can decide the fate of Floria, all the worlds of the Commonwealth!

  * I have already mentioned ...

  * Give me fifteen minutes, and then I'll leave.

  * To complain.

  * Explain to the Council.

  * You have fifteen minutes. He needs a ship. Class "C"!

Skalt patted his green folder with his hand, and spoke calmly:

  * What we have? We have an Object! For centuries we have been preparing the evacuation of Floria, we are spending tremendous efforts to prevent a catastrophe. And you can solve all problems dramatically. I mean, the possibility of destroying the Object itself. We do not have to wait six hundred years for the Object to return to the worlds of the Commonwealth. Returned and made porridge out of us! For six hundred years, the Object will complete a revolution around the Big Star, return to the worlds of the Commonwealth and destroy Floria. And this will not be his last song. After another nine hundred years, he will return, and then ...

  * Scalt, have you come to give me a lecture?

  * I came to give us hope!

  * How many attempts have been made to study the Object? Four manned attempts, and nine automatic. All unsuccessful! Crews and spaceships perished. Automatic stations disappeared. Six hundred years later, the Object will be here again. Of course, an attempt to prepare New Floria for settlement is a noble cause. And we have been engaged in this project for three hundred years. But there is an opportunity to eliminate the very cause of the threat. I'm talking about the project "Swat".

Skalt looked expectantly at Ile, but he remained indifferent, looking tiredly and patiently at his interlocutor. Skalt continued to say:

  * The "Swat" project is our new, breakthrough discovery in the field of gravity. In fact, we can create a device that can cause a powerful gravitational burst in space, a kind of explosion that can destroy any planetoid body. Destroy guaranteed! The object is a giant planet made up of carbon. In fact, he is a big adamant. But with our installation, we can turn it into dust! He is now far from the planets of the Commonwealth, is in an ellipsoidal orbit, and has not yet reached its climax. Distance allows us to destroy it almost painlessly for our worlds.

  * Why do you need a cruiser?

  * My dear,- Scalt Bo almost sang, and broke into a defiant smile.- Our installation is not small! Plus, it is very energy consuming. And that's not all. Did you hear the report from the Psycho- Delta Team Leader?

  * That the Object is intelligent?\- And Iil Mavr waved his hand.- It's buulshit. I believe that they eat their bread in vain. Parasites. They must be dispersed.

  * Iil, they are not truant students.- And they have a huge laboratory in the Ice Belt ...

  * Get out. You won't get anything! Nothing!

  * They analyzed the whole story related to the appearance of the Object in our system. And all the catastrophic events with our Big Star... Do not interrupt me, let me tell! The object flew to us from interstellar space - this is the first! When he approached the Big Star, there was a Big Flash - these are two! The worlds of the Commonwealth were cast back hundreds of years ago. Due to the failure of all electronics, plasma energy and the loss of all cosmonautics.

  * First, there is no evidence that the reason for this is Object. This is the first.- The Mavr extended his hand forward, and right in front of Scult's nose, began to bend his fingers. I am busy enough to listen to all this nonsense. This is the second. And the third. Either you will leave, or my secretary will drag you out of here. And she does not like to stand on ceremony.

  * Don't be rude to me, Iel. I don't play toys.

  * Ha! Have you already decided that I will agree to your adventure with the "Swat"? So that you slam your clapperboard, so that we all get a good shake? Another three hundred years? I read your report. And I also read the report of the safety commission. Calm down and go to Freshness - there are great beaches. And forget about your cracker. You won't get a ship. Never!

  * I need a new cruiser, "Arrow", under construction,- continued Skalt, as if not hearing his words.- And not just because of the "Swat". The ship must be protected from the effects of the Object. And this protection will provide him with the installation of "Barrier". Only a cruiser with its energy can pull it.

  * I call Oolia.

  * Vain hopes. I gave her a prizewinner — a souvenir with Thunder, you know, a juicy piquant thing — and Scalt winked at him slyly.

Not a good wink.

  * You're a dirty type. You can go on.

  * You can read the report of the center for the study of gravity. It will be useful for you. In short, we are talking about the influence on elementary particles of forces that are not amenable to registration by our devices. That is, they revealed traces, the effect of something on matter and radiation, discovered a "secret effect".

  * I heard about that. In my opinion, a muddy story.

  * My "Barrier" will exclude any impact on the ship and its crew. Absolutely. This is a guarantee that expedition will get to the Object and do its job. Whatever he is.

Iil Mavr said:

  * The second wave?

  * The second wave.

  * Hm. This is of course ... But as psychiatrists say, the pilot could just go crazy.

  * And his whole crew? And the previous ones too?

  * From the first three spaceships sent to the Object, no messages were received. They just went missing.

  * But the latter was able to send a message,- and Scalt pointedly raised his eyebrows and made a short speech from the pilot from memory.- Only me and Meg stayed. Everyone is dead. It was a wave. The second wave is coming to us. And all. What wave? What wave was he talking about? Why did everyone die? What is the cause of the death of their team? Ile, you are not a stupid person.

  * I'm stupid if I'm still listening to you.

  * After all, we have a clear impact from the outside! Together with the message from the "Lagoon", telemetry data came. They were still far from the Object, and all ship systems worked properly. Serviceable ship, not any radiation penetrating the skin. And suddenly, everyone died, the second wave "! My "Barrier" will give a guarantee against any waves, both second and first. Give your consent, and then everything will go on as usual. Through the Commonwealth Council.

Iil Mavr took an empty glass and reached for the carafe. Scalt watched him drink, then Iel said:

  * Scalt, let's say I accept your arguments. I said let's say so. All this is understandable. But without evidence, and the evidence is undeniable, all this does not mean anything before the Council. And all these Psycho-Delta, can continue to wag their tongue. Nobody forbids this. Cruiser! The Commonwealth has only two of them. The old man "Obstinate", which has long been time for scrapping, and the relatively new cruiser "East". CCW with great difficulty approved the construction of a new cruiser, instead of the old "Stubborn". We have no one to fight, these ships have never been used for military operations. But no one will give you a new cruiser. I guarantee it to you. The Commonwealth has no inexhaustible resources. The catastrophe on the Fourth put us all on our backs. Now all orbital metallurgy close to the Big Star will have to be transferred much further! And these are five more space plants and two assembly plants. Do not interrupt. For example, I'm not talking about towing, this is generally a separate issue. The construction of only one such towing ship is a real epic. He's not much smaller than a cruiser! Not? Every year we lose up to ten towing ships, along with their crews. Depreciation of ships and crews is critical. Still need to replace old ships with new ones, and repair those that are broken. All space shipyards are busy. Their schedule is scheduled daily, to the smallest detail. Because towers must regularly tow comets from the Ice Belt to New Floria! Because tugboats must tow comets regularly from the ice belt to New Floria! Otherwise, by the time the planet is populated, it simply will not have an atmosphere. And they drag, Scalt, they drag comets, and die, they go there forever! I have no additional resources to build another cruiser, even if the whole Council will fall upon me. Nobody will build a cruiser for you, Scalt. I'm not even talking about labor personnel - pilots, installers, engineers, we need them like air. We began to take the dropouts! Personnel hunger. There is still selection, not everyone will be taken into space. I tell you all this so that you do not draw in your head the "stubborn Iel." I'm not stubborn. I am a functionary.

They were both silent for about a minute, listening to a fly buzzing in an office buzzing.

  * These flies still,- Iil Mavre wanted to get up, raised himself in his chair, but then he sat down and leaned back in his chair, said.- Now will you leave me alone?

  * I'll leave. But you are my dear friend, give me recommendations for the Council.

Iil Mavr was silent.

  * And that's what I don't understand, Iel. It cannot be that our old man, "Stubborn," is so bad. Let it ride another ten years. Huh?

There was a noise of voices in the reception room, and then the door to the office swung open, hitting the wall, and a young, dark-haired guy entered the office with a wide stride. He was in impeccable pilot uniform, fully buttoned.

He quickly appeared near the table of Yela, put a small blue plastic card in front of him and said hello:

  * Good afternoon. The gold badge of the CCW representative glittered on his uniform, and white gloves hung on his belt.

He did not even glance at Skalt Bo.

A young florian woman, a tall one in a colored, short sleeveless dress, belatedly rushed into the office of the chief.

  * This is just arrogance!- She exclaimed, standing next to the young pilot. - They completely lost their submission. He came as if to his home.

  * It's all right, Oolya. I'll figure it out,- Iel said conciliatoryly, and florianess did not willingly leave the office.

Scalt Bo was looking forward to the denouement.

  * Jilk Ri, a pilot from the astronautics!- The guy introduced himself.- Here are my details. Passed a medical examination, recognized as necessary. I have experience. Current pilot. I demand that you appoint me to the deep fleet squad. For any spacecraft towing vehicle.

Iil restrainedly said:

  * Young man, you are not in that institution to demand. Submit your application to the secretariat. She will be considered.

The pilot unfastened the gold badge of the CCW representative from uniform, laid it firmly on the table in front of Iil Moor, and said:

  * Then this is my request. And more ... I don't need that anymore.

He turned sharply on his heels, and quickly left the office, without closing the door behind him.

  * Is it that simple?- Scalt Bo wondered.- I had to become a pilot to open your door with your feet.

  * This is a pilot from the deceased "Wind". When all this is over!

******* *******

Chapter 10.

You are not a hunter.

The View, abbreviated from Visible, Winter View, made its way through a thicket of branches of a dense shrub, and young trees growing here. With his right hand he protected the eyes from the branches, and with his left hand he held the backpack strap on his shoulder - the belt constantly sought to come off. Near his backpack, his shotgun was hanging. Camping cap made of dense felt, was wet from sweat. His dog, a rootless dog named , Nimble disappeared.

As usual, the dog was looking for his own way, occasionally appeared, barked shortly, wagged his tail with, and again disappeared from view.

Like a huge, bright orange disk, the Big Star came out from the horizon, and in the morning slowly began to climb to the tops of the trees. Its piercing light illuminated the forest, making the needles glow and the dew drops sparkle. The leaves of the fern seemed thick carpet, velvet, patterned.

He moved through the forest, slowly, breathing in its coniferous air.

For a year now he has not been in this forest. It was as if he had met an old acquaintance, as if he recognized him at every new step.

By dinner, he had to find the very place where the forest river slowly flows, and near the gentle hill thin birches grow.

He looked with his eyes to see if there was a tree in the vicinity, so that he could sit down and take off his boots, give his choked legs an opportunity to rest.

When he goes to the gorge, in the foothills of the Zholty rocks, he will be able to rest. There he will set up his little tent and light a fire, cook fresh- soup. Sometimes View stopped, adjusted his cap and listened to the world around him - everything is quiet around, except for the twitter of invisible birds from here. From here to the reserve, not more than a hundred kilometers, but it was in this place, once, that he met a bear. It smelled like last year's foliage and needles.

He got out of the forest and found himself on a gentle hill, overgrown with young birches.

Nimble, suddenly jumped out from behind a tree, ran up to him and buried his wet nose in his palm.

  * Where have you been, tramp?- View stroked the dog.- Nimble.

Nimble barked abruptly, bounced to the side and sniffed at the grass, trotted forward.

  * I know, Nimble, you are well done.

He grinned, looking at the dog, adjusted the belt on his shoulder.

He has been walking for the second day.

Yesterday he had to spend the night on Rusty Mountain, not reaching the Big Stones, the usual place for his overnight stay. Then it started pouring rain with thunder and bright dazzling lightning. He quickly set up a tent and until the morning he listened to the sound of bad weather. Sometimes he fell asleep in a heavy gloomy dream, and then found himself in strange places, without air and light. Where there was nothing. View woke up from the thunder, listened to the storm that tormented the tent, looked into impenetrable darkness. At such moments, he did not feel anything in his soul. Only flashes of lightning lit up the small space around him. At such moments, it seemed to him that he had died and ceased to exist. As if his inner man, he himself was numb, and became incapable of a wild, exhausted scream, filled with hopelessness and despair.

The ghost of the past stood before him, a vivid, colorful memory of his son.

  * Dad, dad, will the Iron Helmet come to his aid?

  * He will come. The Iron Helmet is never late.

And he sees children's toys on the windowsill, and there on the painted cardboard décor, the colors of the day are brightly playing.

"He will come. The Iron Helmet is never late".

Thunder shakes the earth, and lightning cut his gaze.

A frozen picture, and a distant voice from the past.

It was at night.

Soon he reached the top of the hill, a flat, rocky bald patch, surrounded by several birches.

View Winter stopped.

The Big Star came out almost from behind the trees. Somewhere on the left, below the hill, a fast stream rustled.

Here he will stay for the night.

Here they stopped to rest.

Once upon a time in a different life.

Having removed his backpack, View set it at his feet, here he lowered his shotgun and, having removed his cap, closed his eyes. A heart beat in his chest, and a light breeze tickled his nostrils the smells of a nearby forest. He came here every year, in the winter or in the summer.

This became a necessity for View, like a burning desire to breathe in fresh air, after a stuffy and hot room. It was like a meeting - a long- awaited meeting with loved ones from the distant past, like a face- to- face meeting when you can hear their laughter, see their faces.

Nimble again disappeared somewhere.

Maybe the dog felt that his owner wants to be alone?

He lay on stony ground and spread his arms out to the side, motionlessly lying as if killed.

Many years ago, they- he, Voicedess and Clesar\- came to this place in a different way, closer and easier. Only three hours walking along the rocky shore of the stream. They went out that day, from the tourist base, walked with laughter and impatience to be away from the bustle of people. In order to plunge into the atmosphere of mystery and almost fairy tales. He and his wife dressed in tracksuits. Little Clesar, he was seven years old, also got the same suit, but for children, with a cheerful pattern on his back.

That was fourteen years ago.

The world at that time was full of colors and feelings, and the View itself was then still alive.

A long time ago.

At that time, he was piloting the Lazur passenger spacecraft. A month of work, after which he was at home on vacation for a month.It seemed to him that life is a holiday where every day is filled with happiness and has its own meaning. In principle, he had an ordinary family. He and the Voicedess even sometimes quarreled, but not for long, and then quickly and easily forgave each other. She had a sonorous voice and he often called her- Campanula. In her presence, he seemed to spread his wings.

He remembered his son's toys, placed on the windowsill of his children's room, and on a desk by the window.

Once View bought his son a toy of the hero of children's films - Iron Helmet. It was a small figure painted in red and blue, in a small, shiny helmet. And since then the Iron Helmet has taken a key role in the battles and adventures of the baby Clesar.

The Iron Helmet was never late if its help was needed, there, on the windowsill, next to the toy houses and the little men of Tranquil City.

Often the son asked him:

  * Dad, let's play. You will be the Iron Helmet and fight against the monsters Org. They have already captured Tranquil City!

No matter how the events in the game turn around, even in the most hopeless situations, View solemnly, imitating the heroes of the films, said holding the Iron Helmet figure in his hand:

  * The Iron Helmet always comes to the rescue!

  * Is he never late?- The son laughed.

  * Never!- And View uttered a war cry, frightening the neighboring cats sitting on their lawn.

In that fateful year, Clesar went to school. And after two months of enthusiastic exclamations about the school and curiosity, which were based on his view, his school gravibas fell from a height of one and a half kilometers, burying Clesar and nineteen other students.

He remembered standing in the city morgue near the body of his son, lying under a white sheet on a cold, marble table. He remembered how he ran his palm across his cold, battered forehead.

And the world went out.

The colors of the world faded and smeared, equalizing all days on one endless day.And then the Voicedess died.

His Campanula. It happened six months later.

Heart attack.

The doctor, an elderly, short man from the Coastal Clinic, told him that she did not want live.

She did not want.

Three months later, Weed transferred to the Deep Fleet and became a towing pilot, where he was received without further questions.

Tug "Roamer".

View's first flight, and his first disaster.

Of the sixty-four crew members, only twenty-eight survived. The tugboat captain died, and View replaced him, leading the wrecked ship through ice death. Starting with the next raid, he became the captain of the repaired "Roamer" spaceship. Then he went to Ledovy Belt for three flights, spending holidays in his city apartment in the capital Dawn. And only then he changed the apartment to a house in the forest.

He called it that "house in the forest."

It was a modest, brick house, which once had a forestry office. He picked up at the station a puppy left by someone there, and gave him the name Nimble. By and large, Nimble spent most of the year with View's neighbor, as View himself was absent for a long time. He thought that the dog would forget him, but the dog greeted him with joy, remembered.

And I didn't forget.

Lying on the ground, he thought about his wife and son.

Wife and son.

Inad his memoirs, like an ax above his head, hung an image of a grab-bass, receding into infinity, with those with whom he would never meet.Lying on the ground, he remembered.

Wife with her son.

In his thoughts, like an ax above his head, hung the image of a gravibass, going to infinity, with those with whom he would never meet. From the outside, he might have seemed dead, but View thought that it was here, for a short time, that life had returned to him, distant and already alien.

Over the river there

after the rain,

you will wait for me - I know

I know.

Your reflection

a reflection of me

into a handful of water

fit in.

You will hardly forget me.

She liked this song. He sometimes took her by surprise.

Doing her own business, and not noticing him, she hummed the words of this song — simple words, always the same, and he stood still, staring at her, as if afraid to frighten away a ghost.

Your reflection

reflection of me ...

His lips whispered the same words that he had been speaking here for several years:

  * I'm with you. Sorry Campanula. Son, the Iron Helmet did not have time.

In a day he will return to his house, and, as usual, he will go to his neighbor and return the shotgun to him.

And the neighbor will pronounce the traditional phrase:

  * Again empty-handed? You are a bad hunter.

They will sit on the porch until dark, at dusk they will look at the bonfire by the gravel path, drink tea and talk quietly. But View is already far from here in his thoughts.

A "Roamer" awaits him.

And again and again he will run away from here as far as possible.

While will live.

******* *******

Chapter 11.

Seven years later. Tugboat.

He continuously watched the slow approach of the rocky, icy surface of the comet, and down there, the light of powerful spotlights, knocked out myriads of multi-colored all-out flares and sparks from it. "Far" reluctantly, like an obedivshy animal, with long pauses in time, reacted to the movements of the helm in the pilot's hands. Having a huge mass, the tug was "slow-witted" - as the pilots said about him. Shunting engines could not make the ship immediately move in the right direction and the strength of his energy continued to push the tug forward.

  * The dome is stable, captain,- said Aaoli, from the sound plate above his head.- The stops are ready.

  * I got you.

This meant that the spacecraft's protective nose ram opened its segments and was now firmly held by the locking rods. The tug, like a huge space spider, spread its legs flat with anti-gravity panels. Six nozzles of the main engines, which now did not work at its stern, were silent. Like six giant funnels, they silently looked into the darkness, each the size of a football fiel. Four powerful coupling devices extended from the front of the tug were preparing to soften the blow.

  * The energy is normal, captain,- it was an engineer-florian, Krha Uch.

  * Distance five thousand,- announced the voice of the computer. - I recommend extinguishing the speed by three units.

Three units.

He missed the message.

Not significantly.

Not critical.

But the tug is stable, the yaw is normal, and he goes exactly along the landing axis.Here it is impossible to "smear", it is necessary to land the tug "cleanly". A little more painful roll, tilt to the side, and all this colossus, attracted by its mass, will fall on its side, breaking and buckling the mounting masts, supports and anti-gravity panels. He will fall, raining down on the living compartments. The disk of the Big Star, which seemed the size of a large orange, burned brightly on the right side of the cab, illuminated the tiny points of the stars with its own light, blinded its eyes and shone on the glass of the viewing porthole. The black space on the comet's horizon, on the left, where a large clearing was visible, was diluted with the murky-blue glow of the Oval nebula. Jilk intentionally did not turn on the light filter - he always did not trust the devices.

He trusted only himself.

The entire pilot's cabin was flooded with the light of the Big Star.

  * What do we have with a boer?- He asked.- No surprises?

  * No surprises,- said Aaoli.

The voice of the navigator Autumn of the South, whom Jilk called Au, grumbled displeased:

  * Hurry up, Jilk.- Again we will damage the supports.

He did not answer.

Jilk seemed to have merged with the tug, gained his composure, felt the strain of the ship, guessing the slightest movement that was going to happen.

He peered into the sparkling surface of the comet, and the index finger of his right hand, lying on the helm, sometimes pressed the engine start button at intervals precisely calculated by his intuition.

Two clicks, one more.

And slightly, slightly, correct the starboard side.

Hundreds of thousands of tons of tugboat moved lazily to the left, the stars in front of Jilk trembled, and barely noticeably crawled to the left corner of the porthole.

Now enough.

He, with a short press of a button on the control stick, made the shunting engines work out briefly. Reflections of blue flashes were visible on the supports and side superstructures of the ship.

  * The distance is four thousand, four hundred and fifty!

His undershirt under the overalls is disgustingly wet with sweat. A cool breeze blows weakly from the air distributor under the cab ceiling. A shiver ran through the spacecraft's hull.

Three dazzling flashes broke out, nasal engines, and the ice of the comet under the ship three times lit up with a blue glow. On the top panel of the control panel, red numbers of speed indicators were lit on the board.

Too fast.

Again blue flashes, more often, longer.

The ice ahead sparkled and blazed with a riot of colors and light. After a second, the cockpit quivered finely, and Jilk's teeth ached. The Big Star shifted to the side and hid behind the edge of the porthole, and everything in the cockpit darkened. Only instrument light illuminated the space around Jilk. Below, under the tugboat, everything gained great clarity and contrast, clefts and relief on ice became more clearly visible.

Until dawn, from here, from the far outskirts of their star system of the Orange Giant, seven long months, and in the event of a disaster, no one will come to the rescue.

Even a tug brother.

As a rule, tugboats die when landing on a comet or in an ice belt.

This time they were lucky. "Far" discovered a comet on the near approaches to the Ice Belt. Moreover, the comet turned out to be quite clean, without ammonia and stones.

Last time it was much worse.

These thoughts and feelings flashed through him in an instant, and Jilk recoiled from them - do the job!

Calmly.

Prudently.

As always.

The tug was slowly approaching the comet, stubborn, thick-skulled.

The packages of brake engines located around the circumference of the trailer complex blazed with blue fire.

The tubular support trusses, their round, flat legs and cylinders of gravity shock absorbers, made the ship tremble violently and continuously.

  * Distance five hundred and fifty.

There, on the icy surface, right on the course, the red light of the lighthouse burned sparkling with thin red rays. They installed it three days ago, when they completed the maneuver to approach the comet and chose a landing site.

Jilk watched the red light of the lighthouse slowly creeping into the bright green crosshairs of the sight on the porthole.

He said:

  * Engineering?

  * We are ready, we are waiting.

  * Au?

  * Plant him! Everything is within acceptable limits.

Now the brake motors were silent.

Jilk continued to move the ship, supporting his direction to the lighthouse, with shunting engines.

  * The sixth engine doesn't get there,- So clearly said.- We now have to go with him to the end.

Au, Au...

We have not sat down yet, and you are already talking about the house.

Jilk twisted his lips in displeasure. Of course, superstitions exist for fools.

"- And who is pulling your tongue?"

The dashboard in front of him flashed with the lights of indicators, the numbers of the gyrocompass readings crawled across the yellow screen.

  * Waiting for a touch - five minutes!

The red, bright eye of the lighthouse burned in the very center of the sight.

  * It's all right, Jilk.- Four minutes.

  * Removing one hundred, eighty, sixty five ...

A four hundred meter comet overshadowed everything around. Of the spotlights attached to the support beams, dazzling white rays fall on its cracked surface, and now the light reflected from the ice made it possible to clearly see the black stings of the boers protruding from the ends of the supports.

  * Touch!

Green lights flashed on the control masts — boring anchors turned on.

Eight boers bit into the ice of the comet, drilled it with hot noses, went deep to fix the ship on its surface — reliably, tightly. An explosion of white steam threw clouds raging in all directions, instantly drowning the entire front of the ship. The steam turned into a sparkling frost sticking to the glass of a large porthole. Now Jilk was blinded and could determine the state of the coupling of the ship with a comet, only according to the readings of the instruments.

He looked at the control panel.

  * All right, the anchors are gone.

The tugboat rested all its supports on the icy surface, crushing blocks and hills into dust, and under its force the support trusses began to bend in huge, steel joints, taking on the mass and inertia of the ship. A giant pillar of frozen steam swarmed and grew now, somewhere behind its powerful stern.

Jilk "pressed" lightly with shunting engines, pressed the ship closer to the comet. "Far" was trembling. Its gigantic corps hummed monotonously. A white storm mixed with darkness rushed through the flickering light of the spotlights.

The rays of the searchlights drowned in a raging white and gray haze.

  * The second and fourth Boers do slow down.- Aaoli's voice.- Almost twenty percent.

  * A rock?- Jilk asked her.

  * Not. Pure ice. But the fact that these two anchors will leave with a lack of depth.

  * Consider when towing. Last time, the first and fifth were also short. We got to the place.

  * There were no emergency maneuvers, so we got to the place,- she answered.

The minutes dragged on.

Whatever it was, but Jilk was already internally relaxed, the thing was almost done. This is his sixth flight. Sixth comet.

  * The boers- the first, third, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth, have reached the estimated depth. The second and fourth were short of twenty- three and ten percent, respectively. Our comet!

  * Got it.- Jilk smiled with restraint, turned off the shunting engines, and imagined how now the supports, unloaded, were being straightened, how frost was settling around the ship.- Well, well, congratulations to all of us on yet another success. Seven months of flight and we are there. Half done!

  * We were lucky with the comet, grumbled Au. - Otherwise, would have looked into Ice.

  * Wasps, do not grumble. Everyone to relax.

  * We deserve it,- said florianess.

The rumble and tremor of the tow stopped. Everything was quiet.

Jilk looked into the frontal porthole.

In the impenetrable white mist, flashes of light rushed about.

And then a loud whistle and stupid, fervent giggling arose in the sound plates.

Sovel Rem.

Jilk grunted.

No one else.

******* *******

Chapter 12.

Ship.

For more than an hour he had been examining the skeleton of a model of an old sailing ship, meticulously peering into thin, wooden details, but still could not force himself to continue assembling. On the plastic green table in front of Jilk, in addition to the model of the sailboat, there was a bottle with glue, as well as threads, a wooden trifle, and ready-made masts. A thin knife sparkled brightly on the table.

"Song of the wind."

An old three-masted sailing vessel with swollen sides and three rows of blunt guns. Once the "Song of the Wind" plowed the East Ocean at the Dawn, and was a military and formidable ship of those ancient years. Next to the glue bottle was a small cardboard box with tiny, brass cannons ready, and twenty figures of sailors and officers. He started assembling a model two years ago.

Jilk carefully set the model down on the table, leaned back in his chair, and looked out the porthole.

There, in the light of the side spotlight, the icy surface of the comet sparkled with myriads of sparks. From where Jilk was sitting, he could not see the black sky of the comet. To do this, you had to get up and go to the porthole, and then the panorama of the Oval Nebula opens - a blurry, dark blue donut.

No, today there is definitely no mood.

He thought about his son, about Jilk Jr.

It was as if he saw the son of a six-year-old boy running towards him, in checkered white and blue shorts and a white T-shirt, saw his face - a happy one, lit by the light of childish joy, his small nose and curly straw-colored hair.

Son.

When he met his father, he always ran like a small gust of wind, and every time Jilk was afraid that the boy would stumble and fall. Jilk promised him that he would return with a finished sailboat, and that Jilk Jr. himself would launch the ship into the water. He said this to his son, in the words of his father.

Two photographs in plastic frames hung on the wall in front of him.

Jilk Jr and Dana.

Wife.

Dana - Freckle, Dana - Lily of the valley, Dana — Light.

They met at Dawn when Jilk arrived on vacation after the Wind disaster. Dana was two years younger than Jilk \- not a beauty, she could be called an ordinary girl. She had big, like two emeralds, eyes, blond, wavy hair, which their son took from her, a freckled face, a slightly elongated and snub-nosed little nose. She had a beautiful figure, slender legs and a clear, clear voice.

They met on the street. More precisely, she herself approached him to find out how to get to the street she needed. And it is not clear how, but they spent this day together. Two months have passed since they met.

Jilk was assigned to the "Far" tugboat, and brought Dana to his parental home. Father was glad, but somehow embarrassed. Mom also received her warmly, but then, in the evening, when the whole house was quiet, she went up to Jilk, who was standing on a dark balcony and looking into the black sky, and said:

  * Son, let go, do not torment her. You do not love her, it is cruel. Dana is a good, kind girl. You will break her life.

He answered mom:

  * Mother. Dana and I love each other and get married. Humble yourself.

Jilk looked his mother in the face and for the first time in his life saw this look, her special look.

She looked at him as if he were a stranger to her...

  * You are lounging, captain, - a low voice sounded next to him, and Jilk, with surprise, startled and looked around sharply.

In the middle of his cabin stood Autumn of the South, a short stature, a broad-shouldered brunette lazurian, he stood in his usual crumpled white jumpsuit, unbuttoned on his chest, and held his hands in his pockets.

  * You had it open, sorry Jilk.

  * I'm busy, Au.

  * I see how busy you are,- he snorted mockingly.- The child will get his boat for adulthood!

A sour expression of boredom appeared on his flat, wide face of lazurian.

  * For tomorrow, you planned a preliminary launch of the engines. I suggest, take a walk, take a walk, look around. And then ...

  * Do you want to delay the start?

  * I want to unwind. For months we hang out in this coffin. And the guys will be happy to walk.

Jilk said nothing.

With looked at him, and sliding the second chair to him, sat down.

  * Are you okay?

  * Yes.

  * You're kind of weird lately.

  * It's all right with me.

  * Well, I'm not climbing. Sovel has a party today. Will you come?

  * I'm already sick of chess, cards, and Sovel.

Au laughed out loud with his low laugh, said:

  * With you for sure, something is wrong. I have to let Aaoli down on you. She'll quickly drag you into the medical compartment.

  * Au, did you get on my nerves to drip? Go get some rest. Tomorrow is a hard day.

  * You are the blues. Clear.

  * You are the blues. Clear.

And at that moment the internal telephone call of the ship rang, and on the wall, next to the photographs of Dana and Jilk Jr., the videophone came to life with a green light. The screen lit up, the fluffy face of the florian Krha Ucha appeared on it.

  * Jilk!- Krh Uch said, whispering a little like all florians.-You have to look at that. It seems we have a guest. Vessel. The distance from us is three hundred thousand. It does not respond to the request. His flight is uncontrollable.

******* *******

In the astronomical compartment, a spacious, brightly lit room, lined along the walls with instruments and control panels, a lot of people crowded. People and florians, three dozen crew members looked at one of the overview screens. At the control panel of the onboard telescope, four Jilk, Aaoli, Au, and Sovel Rem "Far" fit. The rest crowded behind them.

On a flat screen, next to the atlas of their Big Star system, in the darkness of space, studded with bright dots of stars, in the upper right corner of the screen, an alien spaceship slowly moved.

His movement was almost imperceptible, he seemed to hover in the void, making a movement across his trajectory, he tumbled.

Jilk had never seen such a ship design before.

The front of the spacecraft was a ball attached to the ship's hull using a long pipe, a hull consisting of cylinders, and eight obviously nuclear engines located in the back of the spaceship. There were no anti-gravity panels on it. And not a single side light was visible. Porthole failures were drowning in darkness.

Dead.

Ungovernable.

Alien.

  * Give me an increase,- said Jilk to Sovel Rem, who was standing nearby.

The alien spaceship grew rapidly on the review screen, the smallest details of its outer skin, superstructure and antennas became clearly visible.

  * He's tumbling- someone said behind Jilk.

  * Why are you gathered here?- Jilk looked displeased at those standing next to him.-There's nothing to crowd around here.

  * Captain,- exclaimed Lika Bright, an engineer, she even shook her red hair with shock.- Are you sorry? We do not interfere.

Jilk turned his gaze to the screen again.

  * I have not seen such a thing,- said Au.- On a nuclear draft.

  * Whose is he?- Asked a voice.

Jilk did not answer, he did not know.

  * Apart from Or, no one has nuclear powered ships,- said Aaoli.- But they couldn't get that far.

  * Lo!- Again Au.

The spacecraft on the screen has already turned to the audience with a side that until this moment was not visible to them.

A large, irregularly shaped, black hole gaped in his metal case. Farms with cylinders of living compartments in its upper part, were crumpled and lifted up.

  * Dead,- Jilk turned to Sovel.- Still, give them a request.- Maybe their on-board computer still works.

  * Already requested. He is silent. While you were away, I checked in the database. The Commonwealth has not built such ships for two hundred and thirty years.

  * Not them.

  * No identification,- said Aaoli. She turned to Jilk, the look of her yellow cat eyes did not betray emotions.- This is not a Commonwealth ship.

The image of the spaceship moved sharply towards the audience.

  * Look, - Sovel removed his hands from the remote control, grunted pleased. - Something that we already have. The name of the ship.

A yellow inscription appeared above the torn hole in the ship's hull.

  * Cuneiform, sort of,- Jilk looked at the unfamiliar letters, trying to remember if he had seen anything like that.- Check on linguistics.

A minute later, Sovel answered, and inexorable confidence sounded in his voice.

  * This does not fit into any written language of the races of the Commonwealth.- It is possible that he is not from our system.

  * Nonsense,- Hos replied.- On a nuclear thrust to other stars, no one will fly. He is ours.

  * Then how do you explain ...

Au just waved his hand, said:

  * I do not know. But he is ours. He must be ours. And we need to contact the nearest tug. In case we need help.

  * What help, Sovel?- Aaoli asked with a grin.- Are you afraid of the dead?

Jilk asked:

  * Who is closer to us?

  * "Strict",- Au replied.- But he will reach us for more than a month. For a month, help may not be needed. "Strict" is now towing a comet. He is moving away from us. They will have to drop the load, then make a maneuver for a U-turn, then the journey time to us ... This is a long song.

Silence reigned in the compartment for several minutes.

  * All this is strange, - Dawn Morning shrugged. - You can scout ...

  * We need to fly to him,- the voice of the Waves of the Hlone geologist of the crew sounded from the side.- He is still within reach.

  * Too far accessibility,- Au grumbled.- Although, of course, you can.

Jilk Ri made a decision.

  * We are flying to him,- he said, looking at the image of someone else's spaceship, at his hole almost hidden from view, in the steel side. The research team is I, Aaoli, Ziran, Ilan, Weli Scheme, Nam Yoo, and Dawn Morning.

  * He scored some engineers,- Au muttered.- Take me with you.

  * You will stay, Au.- Six are enough there.

  * Kalai can do it without me!

  * Au, you stay on the ship. Team prepare for departure. We start in an hour. The third shuttle ...- Jilk looked back.- Ziran are you here?

He was here.

The florian raised up his mighty hand - stood behind the crowd of those gathered.

  * Ziran, prepare the rescue equipment.

  * Who were you going to save there, Jilk? Take me with you! After all, only with engineers are you flying!

  * Au, you stay in tow.

Decision is made.

Of the fifty-four crew members, six will set off for a strange ship.

Three people and three florians will fly to a strange ship.

Jilk thought and said:

  * If we do not return, do not fly after us. Well, that is what I and So will decide.

  * Captain, - Au was not appeased, his face turned red, his eyes sparkled.- Here is what I will tell you ...

******* *******

The shuttle "Perch-7", designed for ten places, prepared for the arrangement with a tug.

Jilk Ri sat at the helm in the pilot's seat, the glass of his helmet was lifted up.

  * Everything will be fine, Jilk,- he heard the thoughts of Sparkle Whisper.

The Illyan girl, Iskra Shopot, sat to his right.

He turned his head and looked at her.

Illyaness fastened her seat belt.

She had clear violet eyes and delicate facial features.

  * Everything will be fine, love,- she repeated.

Jilk Ri smiled back at her, looked at the subtle features of Spark, her bottomless eyes seemed like two oceans of violet flowers.

"- After returning to Dawn, we will be together!" - He thought, knowing that the Illyaness hears his thoughts.

"- Forever, dear."

"Far" has not yet given the command to undock. Jilk said:

  * Hurray, you dig for a long time.

  * We checked the shuttle system, captain,- the florian- navigator on the communication screen, turned his furry face to someone, asked displeasedly.- What is it? What about energy? Good .- He looked from the screen at Jilk, said .- I allow undocking.

A series of deaf short strokes came from the airlock.

  * Captures removed, captain.

Aaoli sat to Jilk's left. Florianess said:

  * It's all right, captain.

  * Departing from the "Far".- He held the helm with his left hand, putting his right hand on the dashboard, which was illuminated by multi-colored indicator lights.

The "Perch" flinched slightly.

In the front, viewing porthole, where almost complete darkness reigned, all-blue flames flashed, light sparkled on the steel surfaces of the service farms and the shuttle began to move away from the spaceship, slowly, trembling slightly from the operation of the engines.

The shuttle began to leave the mine of the receiving complex, reached its edge, similar to a nozzle socket, with black sensor cubes. After a few seconds, the "Far" moved away from the "Perch", stood out against the stars with its add-ons and farms, navigation lights, appeared in all its glory. Jilk thought of him that way.

Missile beauty.

He, somewhere to hear this expression, and he really liked it, as they say, lay on his heart.

Missile beauty.

The splendor of wanderings.

  * You have departed, captain.- Everything is fine. - Ur Khlo looked at him from the communication screen. - Good luck.

Jilk tried to focus all his attention on managing the shuttle, but the close presence of Iskra Whisper beside him disturbed his peace.

He felt her, almost touching.

The Illyaness, like all Illyans, was a telepath, and although her "voice" was silent now, Jilk was still, as it were, influenced by her strength. He tried to give his thoughts a strong course.

"- We can handle ten with us. Four Illyans will not be superfluous."

The shuttle departed from the tug already far enough, the windows in the living compartments almost merged into long, luminous stripes, the running lights on its rough sides and huge articulated legs resting against the comet's ice surface seemed to Jilk a festive illumination. He turned off the orientation engines, activated the shunting engines.

"Perch" turned around from "Far" - the spaceship and the giant body of the comet went right and back, disappeared from view.

The Big Star was now out of sight.

  * Course 10, fraction 275,- he leveled off the shuttle, stopped his yaw with shunting engines, and aimed at the calculated point of the meeting with the dead ship.- Readiness is a minute.

On the control panel, the lights of the indicators of the control devices noted the readiness of the shuttle running engine systems and its antigrav. The entire crew of the "Perch" was now in light spacesuits. After entering the marching mode, the spacesuit can be removed - the flight will take thirty-two hours.

  * Twenty-eight, twenty-seven ...- The voice of the on-board computer counted down.

Nevertheless, he was distracted, quickly looked in the direction of Spark, she was calm and peaceful. From beneath the shiny chrome-plated edge of the helmet, her face with delicate features is visible. Her violaceous, like bottomless, eyes, bright long eyelashes.

Jilk could not help smiling.

This is their last flight.

Upon their return to Dawn, a wedding awaits them.

There will be no tugboat, nor any Deep Space.

Only he and she.

After the death of "Wind", it was thanks to a meeting with Spark that Jilk seemed to be born again, regained meaning and a new vision of life.

Spark.

Spark Whisper.

  * All ship systems are ready for launch.

And her "song" is almost mesmerizing, inspiring confidence and life, her telepathic ability to convey her feelings and thoughts to another! Jilk felt impatience growing in him, he wanted to hear her "song" about her love for him again and again. "Song", from which the heart stops, from which the feelings become stronger, brighter, reach an unspoken height.

When she "sang" \- silently, looking into his eyes, he was choking with joy, he fancied that her feelings inspire him, give him strength and inspiration, which he had never before experienced.

"- Only you, my love, only with you I live, Jilk!"

Spark.

He will not leave her. He can no longer live without her.

  * Start!

A sharp jolt shook the shuttle body, the stars in front of it faltered. The roar of nuclear-powered propulsion engines appeared and began to grow. Jilk held the steering wheel tightly, pulled it toward him - not much, not much ...

  * Take it easy, captain,- Aaoli's voice in the headphones sounded almost indifferent.- Calmer.

He smiled, happy.

Perhaps it was she - Spark, quietly, almost imperceptibly, "sang" for him his "song" - about happiness, about love, about him? ...

Somewhere behind the shuttle, behind a thick, protective shield, nuclear flames flare up, roaring, taking them all somewhere to the unknown.

******* *******

The alien ship was making its lingering somersault. He was hanging right in front of The "Perch" now - big, dark, dead. To the right, on the nose of the spaceship, due to its broken residential complex, the light blue edge of the Oval nebula peered out. Next to her was a bright star, Liberty, radiant, almost transparent.

  * This is not discussed,- said Jilk stubbornly. He looked out the porthole at the dead ship.- I will not change the composition of the group. Five go to the ship, five remain and wait. A Whirlwind in my absence - you're the senior on the shuttle.

The Illyanin Whirlwind Glance, an electronic engineer, immediately telepathically answered, and Jilk heard his thought-word, distinctly, as if he had said it in a rumor:

"- Good".

And after a second he repeated to everyone in a rumor:

  * Good, Jilk.

The group that was supposed to explore the alien ship consisted of five crew members- Jilk, Aaoli, Sparkle Whisper, Ziran Ilan, and Dawn Morning. All five, already clad in light suits of "The Seagull", one after another went into the transport compartment of the shuttle.

The "Perch" was a large transport shuttle and its transport compartment contained everything necessary for a rescue expedition. In the middle of the compartment, laden with containers and all kinds of tools, the "Beetle" cargo-passenger platform, motionless at the edges, equipped with small jet engines, motionlessly froze. The platform's fuel tanks were slightly elongated, almost balls, dullly shone with. The "Beetle" was an open platform without a cab. On a flat frame, in front were two rows of chairs and a small control panel. Light panels located on the walls of the transport compartment, brightly illuminated the entire space around.

One could hear the air being pumped out from the compartment with a dull whistle.

All five, without too much haste, took their places on the "Beetle", fastened their seat belts.

  * We're ready to go,- Jilk announced. We started.

He touched the flat, luminous green light, "Luke" button, and the flat wall opposite smoothly stepped aside, opening an exit into space. In front of them was a black, dotted with bright stars, rectangular gap. The dead spaceship was on the other side of them — the space in front of the "Beetle" was free.

Jilk put his hands on the massive handles of the joysticks, pressed the button on the right, and the "Beetle" obediently rose above the floor, moved forward to the stars. The platform smoothly emerged from the brightly lit transport compartment into the darkness of the void. He allowed the "Beetle" to move two hundred meters from the shuttle, and then it steeply laid to the right - the stars sharply darted to the left, as if the entire universe had suddenly set in motion. The platform turned back to the shuttle, behind which towered a huge alien spaceship.

The "Beetle" flew towards him.

They passed very low above the shuttle and, passing it, began to approach an alien.

The dead spaceship was several times smaller than the tug, but it was still not inferior in size to the passenger spaceship that Jilk had once flown on.

He said:

  * We moor the platform at the residential complex, from there it is most convenient to get inside the ship.

  * The distance is one thousand five hundred and forty,- declared the deep voice of the lazurianess Dawn Morning in the helmet.

Jilk watched the approaching spaceship.

The torn hole in the stranger's hull was clearly from a collision with something, the edges of the hole bent inside the ship testified to this. What pierced the ship was to strike with monstrous force.

The farms between the residential complex and the main part of the ship were literally torn apart, and the complex itself — three flat superstructures with rows of dark portholes — shifted to the side, making the ship look crooked.

The fuel tanks at the rear of the spaceship were also shifted to the side, but survived.

Even at the "Far", studying a strange ship, Jilk decided to moor the platform on a small platform under the alien's most residential complex. Now driving the "Beetle", he saw that this site had survived completely, and at its edge there was a flat superstructure, which was apparently once used as a lock chamber. The long-distance communications antenna was like a pile of rods and beams.

The body crashing into this ship should have been no less than the "Perch", and if at the moment of the collision the alien was moving at cosmic speed, he would certainly turn into steam and gross debris.

The catastrophe happened during the drift. It is possible that the spaceship was faulty and its crew could not avoid a collision with something. If at that moment the stranger's crew was still alive at all.

  * Four hundred and seventy.

Jilk gently braked the platform - on both sides of it, blue flashes of fire quickly flickered and went out. After a while, greatly damping the speed, the "Beetle" approached the stranger, hung over his residential complex and froze.

  * Distance twenty seven.

Two searchlights shone from the bow of the "Beetle".

Jilk touched the bright blue button on the front control panel with his hand, dressed in the glove of a spacesuit, and the seven main spotlights came to life, and their dazzling white rays rested on the body of a stranger. Pea-sized holes were clearly visible on the steel plating of the ship, here and there, and above the setting near the landing platform, two holes the size of a soccer ball gaped. Spotlights "Beetle" brightly illuminated the superstructure of the lock chamber, dimly glare in the round portholes. Jilk gave the "Beetle" engines a little thrust, and he, obediently turning his nose from the spaceship, approached and sat on the corrugated platform.

Magnetic anchors clicked.

The engines went out.

All.

The light of the spotlights illuminated the matte surface of the ship, and even falling on large windows on the edge of the residential complex, he could not beat out the slightest brilliance from them.

Dust!

The ubiquitous cosmic dust.

Jilk peered at the surface of the spacecraft for a while.

  * He is thousands of years old,- said the voice of Dawn Morning in the face mask of Jilk.

  * And also collisions with asteroids,- said Ziran.- The dust was repeatedly knocked off its surface. It can be hundreds of thousands and millions of years.

Nam Yu's voice said:

  * An analysis of his nuclear fuel will clarify something.

Jilk began to unfasten the flat belt buckle and said calmly:

  * Let's go to the ship.

The work has begun.

Each of them knew his job.

The crew freed from their seats, only four remained seated in their seats - three Illyan- Whirlwind Glance, Light Breeze and Wind Call. The fourth was a technical engineer, florian Ziran Ilan.

The six, holding on to the shiny handrails, began slowly to move along the side ramps of the "Perch" to the loading platform. Jilk's magnetic boots stuck to the metal, glowing indicators inside the helmet, almost at his very chin, threw rainbow highlights on the convex glass.

In space, where there is no air, light does not illuminate the space around. As soon as Jilk turned his back on the ship flooded with bright light, his eyes immediately plunged into darkness. Only the overall platform lights shone with a yellow, even light.

He turned on the two headlights of his spacesuit.

Turned on the lighting on the platform itself. And then, under their feet flashed white, bright lights of a triangular shape.

Jilk walked around Dawn, standing in front of him, leaned on a gray, fluted container, moved forward and stopped behind Spark. In the brilliant holders, as in the claws of a large crab, hung an elongated cylinder of the laser cutter. Pulling on the hooks of the holder, Jilk took the side handle of the laser cutter, carefully pulled it out of the groove and, lifting it to the level of the chest, turned back.

  * We're ready, Jilk,- Nem said.

He stood on the right ramp, next to Dawn Morning and the Welie Scheme. Tall and broad-shouldered florians stood out from the group. Nam was holding the same laser cutter that Jilk had. Dawn and Welie carried portable containers with instruments. A spark of Shopot was already standing next to Jilk.

  * Nam,- Jilk moved closer to the nuclear scientist, stopped close, looked through the glass of the helmet on the spacesuit illuminated from the inside, the face of the dawntian.- No heroism. If you suspect even the slightest danger, leave immediately.

  * I'm not small,- he grunted.-I know.

A brightly lit housing complex hung over them like a rock. Somewhere far above the right, their comet dimmed, gray, stuck out a dim star. One after another, they descended a low ladder down to the platform of the spaceship. Jilk stopped near the platform "Perch", looked at the last Spark descending.

Nam, Dawn and Welie were already stepping over the edge of the platform, and slowly, ridiculously jerking their legs up at every step, they moved along the gently sloping hull of the spaceship to its rear.

Jilk approached the superstructure of the lock chamber.

Beside him, on the left, Spark stopped. Ziran and Aaoli stood on the right. Jilk lifted a weightless laser cutter with both hands, touched the green button on steel case, and put his index finger on the "start" lever. They stood in front of a convex hatch that had been closed by someone a long time ago, looking at the silver dust that covered everything here like powder.

  * There can be no pressure in this airlock,- said Aaoli.- But I would start cutting at an angle.

But Jilk had already pressed the "start" - thin as a thread, a dazzlingly bright red beam of a laser cutter, instantly ran into the hatch of the spaceship, formed a crimson-colored spot on its surface, and knocked out a sheaf of sparks. He squinted and led the cutter up the uneven, imaginary oval. The molten metal scattered like a fan, in all directions, hit the protective coating of the spacesuits and quickly faded, faded.

The ether was silent.

Jilk cut the hatch calmly, giving the beam the opportunity to completely cut through the obstacle without leaving spaces.

He heard the "song" of Spark, felt its proximity, presence.

The beam had already cut through the entire left side of the hatch and its entire top when Jilk heard on the air the peppy voice of a nuclear scientist:

  * With the initiative of you, captain.

He did not answer.

After a few minutes, he finished cutting a hole in the closed hatch, and turned off the cutter. Jilk pushed the crippled hatch with his right hand, and he yielded, flew off into the open darkness of the opening, freeing the passage for them. Rays of lanterns from the spacesuits of the researchers illuminated the darkness of the room that opened before them.

  * Ziran stay here. Wait for us.

Trying not to touch the cut edges of the opening, bending down – Jilk, Spark and Aaoli went into the spacecraft lock chamber.

It was a wide compartment, where everything was around - floor, walls, ceiling shone with gray metal. The second hatch leading inside the ship was open. There was no dust here, in any case Jilk did not notice it. To the left of the wall was a transparent cabinet, and in it, shoulder to shoulder, stood two white spacesuits , with large face masks.

  * Humanoids. We've already found out something, \- Jilk examined the spacesuits, then turned his eyes to the emptiness of the open hatch.

Gray-black emptiness.

The light from their lanterns flooded the lock chamber.

  * Let's move on,- Jilk moved toward the inner hatch leading from the airlock into a long, gloomy corridor.

Under the soles of his feet, the sound of his footsteps was muffled, transmitted down the suit, as if crawling into a helmet, like a snake. The corridor stretched straight, and ended with a dark intersection. Part of the floor and the wall on the right were littered with shards, as if they were made of glass, lay a black wrinkled boot and a pair of small flat appliances with square, dead screens. All this rubbish, which has lain here for ages, has swumbled to the left due to the weak rotation of the spaceship. They walked along the corridor, illuminating their path with lanterns, peering through the open doors of once-living cabins. Jilk warned:

  * Do not touch anything, just look.

  * Thanks for reminding me. Natural background radiation.

Aaoli.

Everything will change, but not her.

Halfway to the intersection lay a corrugated gray hose.

Dusty and curved, punched in places, thick, the diameter of a person's head. One end went straight into the open doorway of the cabin on the right, the other stretched along the corridor to the intersection and there turned to the left. Jilk stopped, leaned forward slightly so that the light of his lanterns could illuminate this strange obstruction. The hose shone with metal - gray, like everything here around.

Spark and Aaoli stopped next to Jilk.

  * Looks like a vent,- the florianess's voice wasn't sure.- If so, then ... They pumped air here. Failure of ventilation? Reserve?

Spark was silent.

Jilk decided to move on.

He began to step over this hose and slightly touched it with the suit's boot, not very much, he only struck the sole on it. He began to step over the hose and accidentally hit it with the sole of his boot.

The steel corrugation immediately crumbled, turning into a small crumble, flew ahead with a brilliant cloud, sparkled in the rays of light, and slowly and reluctantly settled on the floor and the left wall.

  * Damn you!

Still, he finished the step, turned and inspected the hose.

The hose collapsed by about a meter of its length.

  * I'll look in the cabin,- Aaoli walked around Jilk, who was standing, and disappeared into the room into which the hose was leaving.

She returned soon.

  * Nothing interesting, an ordinary warehouse.

Spark's voice sounded in the headphones:

  * Jilk, where are we going? Maybe to the aft compartments of the ship?

He felt her desire - persistent, almost demanding, and was surprised at her persistence. Jilk didn't remember Spark demanding anything from him. The feeling that he now caught, bordered on obstinacy, was imposed on him. And at the same time as the Spark attracted him to the direction where the light of the lanterns was lost in the darkness of the dead corridor, her "song" sounded - about love, about future happiness, about them ...

Frozen in place from surprise, Jilk, obeying the urge of his "I" resolutely said:

  * We go to the nasal compartments. We need to find out where they came from. We go to the right.

They turned right.

The corridor was well lit, the bright light of their lanterns did not leave anything dark here, they walked confidently. There were objects lying on the floor whose purpose Jilk did not know. Pieces of cable, fragments of broken glass or what looked like glass again appeared.

The interiors of another spaceship apparently had a vertical layout when the construction of a residential complex was carried out along the central axis of the ship. Further, the corridor ended with a hall without doors and a wide opening in the ceiling, where the steel staircase went.

Interfloor mine.

To the right of the wall stood a black matte table, casually shifted to the side. Several gray chairs lay in the corner next to the closed door. And there, at the door, Jilk saw a body lying.

The body was without a spacesuit, it lay with its legs bent under itself, dressed in gray, ragged rags.

Aoli, she stood right under the shaft, pointed to the body lying at the door, and said:

  * There.

  * I see.- Jilk went to the dead man and stopped a step away from him.

There was no doubt that the body lying on the floor, and turned into a black mummy, belonged to the florian race. And although he lay here, in a vacuum, probably for ages, Jilk immediately established that the deceased belonged to the people of Aaoli. The frozen body lay on the left side, bent in the stomach, once with powerful, and now bony legs. His large feet ended with sharp clawed toes. The fingers of his bony hands were clenched into fists and the cat's skull, covered in black skin, grimaced with large, yellow fangs. The dead man's wide open eyes have long turned into two yellow stones, sunken deep in the eye sockets of the skull.

  * I'll take samples, the florianess's voice sounded dry and without emotion.

Aaoli walked over to the body lying on the steel floor and set the tool box next to it.

Jilk went to the mine, where stood the Spark Whisper - indifferent to what was happening.

Standing next to her, he hesitated, asked her:

  * Are you angry?

She answered him telepathically - a soft, gentle voice sounded in Jilk's head:

"- You ignored my advice, dear."

  * I want to find out who they are and where they come from.

"- It's not safe here."

  * The ship is long dead, Spark. If there once was a danger, then she died with him. A long time ago.

  * I feel threatened, Jilk.

He looked at the dark tunnel of the mine, where a vertical steel staircase led. Its lanterns illuminated the transparent emptiness of the mine, the railings of the stairs and the edges of the floors flashed with silver. Somewhere high-high, the heaps of floors were lost, as if dissolved in black acid.

  * We must find the navigational compartment of the ship,- he tried to say it in an almost indifferent voice.- Perhaps we will find there maps and an indication of their planet.

Five minutes later, a florianess approached them. Behind the glass of the spacesuit, her face looked calm. She said:

  * They cannot be florians. This is not our ship.

  * They're from your race, Aaoli.- Jilk looked into her face.- There is only one Floria in the Commonwealth.

She didn't answer.

Inside Jilk's spacesuit, almost beneath his chin, a small, green communications light flashed on the display panel. He pressed a button on the left wrist of his spacesuit and immediately there was the noise of radio interference and the voice of Nem Yu, with notes of everyday life, as if he had gone for a walk into the forest:

  * Jilk, everything has cooled down here a long time ago. I found a fuel tank. Radioactive granules. Now it's just a piece of metal. A spaceship has been hanging around here for hundreds of thousands of years. It sounds wild, but it is a fact. You can assimilate this fact as you want.

  * Are you alright?

  * Everything is wonderful with us. We have already packed the samples. The radioactive background of the material is not higher than the surrounding. But the supply of material to the reactor is ancient. Dawn on such ships began to go into deep space. I want to go from the side of the reflector nozzle. Just wondering how they are ...

  * Have you finished with the samples?

  * I already said that.- Everything is packed.- Apparently, the ship cooled down very, very long time ago. It will be possible to say exactly after examining the samples, but I can already say now that it is ten times older than the Commonwealth!

  * This is a florian ship, Nam. We found a body.

  * M- m- m- m ... Then I do not know what to say. It cannot be.

  * If you find anything else. let me know.

  * Good.

Jilk turned to Spark and Aaoli standing next to him, said:

  * According to the generally accepted scheme, the navigation compartment should be located on the upper tier, next to the command compartment. If they follow the same pattern, then we will find the navigation compartment at the top. We use magnetic boots. I forbid to disconnect them. Now, up this ladder. I am in front, the Spark behind me, Aaoli, you are the last.

  * Clear.

******* *******

  * There are fifty-six planets here, Jilk,- Aaoli finally said.- It cannot be our ship. There are forty-eight planets in our star system. He is alien.

Jilk stood silently in front of the wall and looked at the drawing.

The navigation compartment turned out to be a spacious room on the second tier of the spacecraft- a large and once bright room (two dozen round lighting shades, now dead) were built into the shiny ceiling. On the wall opposite the hatch, there was a large, oval porthole. Its thick, laminated glass was broken and only the sharp teeth of the fragments stuck around the edges.

The entire metal floor was littered with glass fragments, and on this floor, in the corner of the left side of the compartment, lay three bodies mutilated by vacuum and time.

Two more bodies were under the porthole, one on top of the other, as if they had been specially put in a heap.

In the middle of the compartment was a plastic, rectangular-shaped table, and a deep, uneven scratch passed along its smooth surface. On the table lay a lone dark brown glove and steel earphones with a torn wire. Control panels covered with gray dust stretched along the right wall, and four chairs, torn from their seats, were lying near the hatch. The broken bolts of their mounts dimly shone.

All three — Jilk, Spark, and Aaoli — were now standing in front of the left wall of the compartment where the drawing was depicted. The drawing was engraved on the steel surface of the wall. He depicted twelve circles and a sketchy Big Star, with sharp, twisted rays. The circles went almost close to each other, on each of them a circle-planet was depicted, and from the seventh circle, sharply crossing out the entire system, there was a line that went into the outside of the depicted orbits. This line ended with a small drawing of a spaceship.

Jilk stubbornly declared:

  * He cannot be a stranger. He is ours. From our system.

  * He is from a system of fifty-six planets. It is obvious. Do not be a noob.

  * A nuclear powered spaceship? You know how much he would fly to us from the nearest star. Thousands of years, Aaoli. Thousands years. This ship is not suitable even for ten years of flight.

In the rays of the lanterns, the engraving on the wall shone, the edges of its deep furrows were shone with yellow and blue light. The florian woman snorted and said:

  * Fifty-six planets, Jilk.- There are fifty six of them!

She stood to his right, holding a container in one hand and a large sample bag in the other. Beyond that were plastic cards and electronic components pulled by Jilk from a central digital vault. The laser cutter that Jilk left in the hallway was lying on its side and leaning on a massive black handle, and from there it shone green from the start button.

  * It can be assumed that he is a shuttle from the mother ship.- Spark whispered in a low, calm voice.- His base may have perished.

Jilk turned away from the picture, looked at his companions, who were standing next to each other. He said:

  * We have four hours left. We need to split up. Aaoli, you and Spark go to the lower tiers, and I will bypass the upper ones.

  * Jilk, I'm coming with you,- Spark's voice was categorical.- I'm with you.

He heard her "song" - longing, supplication.

"- Don't demand the impossible from me! "

  * Jilk,- Aaoli turned toward the exit from the compartment — the large, light of the florianess's lanterns cut through the darkness of the corridor.- I will be in touch. And watch the time – kitten.

Jilk was a little dumbfounded - Aaoli hadn't called him the funny word "kitten" for a long time. It may be that florianess was very nervous. Something bothered her greatly. He did not find any other explanation.

  * Spark, be near me, do not touch anything or go anywhere.

  * Don't worry, dear.

The Spark stood very close to him, and he saw through the glass of the spacesuit her face radiating happiness. It seemed to him for a moment, as if the girl's eyes suddenly lit up with purple light, like two large beautiful stones - bewitching, attractive.

After a moment, the vision disappeared.

It seemed to him.

It could not be.

With an inner effort, he tried to throw off his sudden numbness.

His breathing suddenly became heavy, intermittent. As if he suddenly began to choke.

  * Let's go.

He once again looked at the drawing on the wall, then turned and walked to the exit of the compartment. A glass crumb crunched under his magnetic boots. A Spark Whisper walked beside him, just one step behind Jilk.

******* *******

He stopped to look at Spark.

The girl stood a few steps away from him, at a large, semicircular table and, looking at something on it.

He looked at the air sensor.

This could not be - the remainder of the air in his tanks was frighteningly small.

If believe his testimony, then in eighty-seven minutes the air will end.

The watch dial, which was located next to the air sensor, on a flat panel inside the suit, showed 16: 35. He was sure that he had only recently looked at his watch, and it showed 14:03.

  * We're running late!- Jilk was looking at Spark frozen at the table. Time is running out. Thirty minutes later we should be on the platform,- Jilk spoke aloud, addressing the Illyan Whirlwind.- Whirlwind, we are returning to the platform. Meet us. Nam, it's time for everyone to return to the platform.

  * We are already going, he answered.

Jilk noticed that he was starting to get nervous, some kind of anxiety began to fill his feelings, vague doubts and even fear.

"All right",- he thought."- We have a lot of time".

  * Aaoli, where are you? We need to leave.

He suddenly experienced an inexplicable panic, as if he had forgotten something important, what the life of their entire group now depends on.

The Spark walked calmly next to him.

She turned and looked at him, the rays of the lanterns of her spacesuit hit Jilk in the eyes.

  * I'm at level seven,- Aaoli answered him.

  * I'm at the warehouses, going to the tenth level,- her voice answered him again.

Trying to suppress the feeling of fear spreading in his soul, he again asked the florianess:

  * Aaoli, I do not understand! Where are you?

Through the noise of the radio noise, a florianess's voice arose, divided into two voices, exactly the same, familiar:

  * I'm on the tenth level, kitten.

  * I'm on the seventh tier, Jilk.

  * Say it again!- He shouted.

  * On the tenth!

  * On the seventh!

Two Aaoli spoke to him. Two Aaoli were now on the ship in different places!

Shocked, Jilk looked at Spark and asked her:

  * What did you hear?

  * Did your connection fail?- The girl walked nearby carrying a container in her hand.- Aaoli said she was on the seventh tier.

  * Didn't you hear? She ...- And he screamed.- Aaoli, repeat where you are now?

  * I'm going to the exit, on the seventh level.

  * Kitten are you deaf? On the tenth!

Both florianess's voices, exactly the same, overlapped each other like a puff cake.

Jilk seemed to float out of the fog. He realized that he did not remember how he spent the last two hours. In his memory there was no clear picture of the memories, but only a vague period of time when he was meaninglessly standing near the dead control panel, in some kind of darkened compartment ...

He was already walking towards the mine — faster, faster, almost running. His magnetic boots slowed his running, as if he were moving through deep, sticky mud. He thought the same thing, repeating it to himself again and again:

"- Overslept, overslept, I overslept everyone".

The bright rays of his lanterns ran in front of him - two dazzling spots of light. In the darkness before in front of , Jilk already saw the end of the corridor, where there was a shaft with a staircase. He ran forward, not yet knowing what he would do, not yet knowing the cause and not seeing the face of disaster. But Jilk knew for sure that the disaster was fatal, inevitable, had already arrived, that she was already here.

"- I ruined us all!"

They ran out to the place in front of the mine, where thick corrugated hoses and bundles of white-yellow wires were thrown on the left side. Two black dips gaped in the floor and on the ceiling of the hall. Jilk turned his head back to see the edge of his spacesuit satchel, then took the laser cutter and attached it to the mounting bracket.

  * Spark keep up,- Aaoli's voice sounded in the headphones.- Jilk has a tantrum.

He froze on the edge of the shaft, amazed at what he heard. He looked around to the left — the Illyaness, his Spark Whisper, she stood nearby, holding a container in his right hand.

"- Jilk, pull yourself together."- he heard the voice of her thoughts."- I also hear what you hear. There is no other voice on the air. Aaoli is on the seventh tier."

Spark's "Words" offered hope.

  * To you!- The florianess sounded annoyed.- Spark, why did you stop?

"- Jilk, this is not on the air. It is only in your imagination!"

He ran his tongue over his dry lips and asked:

  * Aaoli, Is the Spark with you?

  * With me, with me. You yourself sent her to me. You're like a noob, Jilk. Just like a noob.

  * She must be with you, Jilk,- the voice of yet another Aaoli.- I pass to the sixth level. I will leave the ship soon.

He was still standing, not making a decision. He looked down the shaft, into pitch darkness.

An endless minute passed.

  * Kitten, love is bad for you,\- he understood from her voice that the florianess was in a hurry, out of breath.

Between the tenth and ninth levels, there were three more technical levels, far in the back of the ship. And from the level where Jilk and Spark stood now, only four levels remained before leaving the ship. That Aaoli that was now deep in the spaceship, walked with Spark.

But Spark stood beside him.

  * I'm going kitty. Out of the tenth. Mine. Jilk, you missed time too, my good?

And these her words decided everything for him.

  * Jilk, the exit is on the other side!- Spark tried to grab him by the sleeve of her spacesuit, but did not have time.

He rushed to the mine, grabbed the handrails of the stairs and began to descend.

He looked in front of himself at the flickering steps of the stairs, continued to fall into the depths of the mine and shouted:

  * Spark, go to the exit. I command you!

  * A Spark with me, kitten!

  * The Spark is with you, kitten!

Nem Yu's voice arose unexpectedly:

  * What's going on, Jilk?- We are on the platform. Together.

  * I do not know. Aaoli below the technical tiers! I follow her.

  * I almost went out, kitten. I'll be out soon. Do not be a noob, you are going wrong.

Just for a moment, Jilk gasped again from panic, and doubt squeezed his chest, and he painfully wanted to scream out loud.

But Aaoli is downstairs!

The florianess who is now approaching the exit from the ship is fake. But the real Aaoli would never leave him in danger, at least order her, at least curse.

  * Kitten, I'm waiting for you with Spark in the lock chamber. Hurry up.

The darkness behind him, like a thick sticky mass, threatened to grab, tear him from the railing - palpable, inexorable. Jilk was afraid to look into the upper glass of the spacesuit. He continued to fall and fall down into a deep abyss.

Down, down...

There, in the depths of the black mine, where he was now going down, an unclear threat piled up and thickened. Another threat, visible, close, went down the stairs behind him, almost stepping on Jilk's arms. Each time, he managed to remove his hand from the step of the handrail when Spark's leg stood on top of him.

"- Jilk, we will perish. Stop! Come back. You must believe me!"

Down, down.

"- Nobody is there, Jilk! You're wasting time!"

Dead fingers of horror, icy, with prickly goosebumps, touched his back.

She said "you're wasting time."

Not "we".

"You"!

Alien Spark was next to him, she went down after him.

Behind him ...

Behind him ...

He had already passed the first technical floor when he heard the voice of the florianess in the headphones:

  * You haven't left yet, kitten?- She coughed and laughed nervously.

  * I am going to you!- Cold sweat soaked his eyebrows, stuck to his eyelids, burned his eyes. Aaoli, I'm coming!

Her voice sounded bitterly mocking:

  * A kitten, a kitten. Then we will both die. Go away. No more time.

He continued to descend, clinging to the handrails. He imagined five Illyans seated on the platform, motionless, silent. He literally saw this picture, his imagination clearly painted it.

  * Nonsense, madame. I won't leave without you, - the joke failed - his voice sounded hopelessly.

  * Stupid noob. It was necessary to bite you then.- And she laughed, hoarsely, sharply.

Now he was sure, down below, Aaoli was coming towards him.

She!

The bright rays of his lanterns danced on the mine wall, with dazzling spots of light, they played on the handrails, and sparkled on the white surface of the spacesuit. The laser cutter constantly swayed from side to side, hitting Jilk in the ribs.

And the Spark, close, indefatigable, suddenly "sang" a song about love, hope, deceived expectations, and he was even more shocked by the terrible truth that opened before him, almost tearing off the stairs, in a hurry.

He suddenly remembered how Aaoli once treated him to sweet fruits, there, in the distant past. He remembered their taste — honey, with a touch of spring and joy when he was happy. He wanted Aaoli to eat them, but she answered him then:

  * Kitten, we do not eat any grass ...

He laughed sharply, and tears came to his eyes, and everything before him floated in a dazzling, trembling light.

The vague feeling that he can now remember something very important, distant, came to Jilk and disappeared just as quickly. "Song" Sparks Whisper grew stronger, louder. One could hear the notes of an approaching evening thunderstorm, when the sky in the west disappears in the coming night, and the air becomes quiet and heavy. In her "song" there were already rumble of thunder and the crackle of trees felled by a hurricane. Jilk listened to these feelings, saw in himself these images, imposed, alien. Fear fettered his body, and filled his soul with a winter cold.

... When the snow shines in the light of the dazzling Big Star, the air freezes in anticipation of death, and a piercing frost, deaf to supplication, envelops, tightens the skin, tears off heat...

... And takes you there, to bottomless nothing ... Into nothing ...

Jilk seemed to wake up from a heavy sleep. He screamed wildly and loudly, interrupting his voice, and the windshield of his spacesuit clouded over from his breath.

  * Kitten. I'm scared.

  * I am going to you!

  * You won't have time,- she breathes loudly and quickly.

And the "song" of Spark is getting louder, more insistent, and it's already hard to restrain one's consciousness, from the desire to relax and think, think, think ...

... To think about a hot, summer day, when the gentle waves are transparent and clean, they run onto the sandy shore, like living glass - emerald and cool...

  * Aaoli- i- i!

"- Leave her, love. Do you love her? You love me!"

These words burst into his thoughts, shocking him with firmness.

"- You cannot do without me! Only I am your love!"

The next technical tier.

Time.

Time is over.

Even if he turns back now.

Even if now.

Late!

He tore off both legs from the steps of the ladder, hovered for a second over the black, alien abyss, and pushing himself off the railing with his hands, flew down the mine, slightly falling to the left. The steps of the stairs flashed before his eyes, steel sparkling ripples.

"- I will fix it! No one will stay here! I will fix it, I will fix it!"

His swift flight in zero gravity threw Jilk to the right and to stop, he threw both hands forward. The impact on the handrails and steps shook him violently inside the spacesuit, but fear drowned out the pain. From where he had just been, the light of the sparks of Spark rapidly grew.

Jilk gathered his strength and pushed off, flew down.

Into the abyss.

In blackness.

Going nowhere.

Time, time ...

"- Time's up, Jilk."

This simple thought made him pack up. He tried to look down at the bottom edge of the suit's glass. There, deep in the shaft, pink, soft light flickered.

  * Kitten, leave me- Aaoli's voice is panting, intermittent, but almost calm, and from this calm it seems unbearably desperate, like a cry. Here, there is something. Between us. At the second technical level. Some kind of light. Not. It is creeping. It is growing. Go away, Jilk!

Stretching his arms forward, he hit his hand on the handrail. It was not possible to cling, but the speed of its fall decreased, and after a second Jilk tried again.

Hit.

This time, he managed to hold his hands tightly on the handrails of the stairs. He gripped them with a death grip. He was now almost on the platform of the second technical level. Under the spot where Jilk was now, the entrance to the next tier gaped, dark and sinister, like the square black mouth of a dead monster.

He leaned over to look at what was shining there, deep in the shaft below him.

Somewhere at the exit of the first technical level, filling the entire mine opening, a soft, pink flame flared up - myriads of tiny sparks merging into one continuous cloud of cold fire pulsed and flashed, poured like glowing jelly. They flowed along the handrails and steps of the stairs, upward, cutting it off from Aaoli.

He himself could not see the florianess herself - the pink light drowned out everything around.

It was already impossible to go down the mine even lower.

Jilk noticed the light from the lanterns of Spark, looked up and saw her standing above him. She stood a little higher from him, holding a container in her hand. The light of their lanterns illuminated the entire space of the mine around, dispersed the darkness, painting the walls in white and gray, the metal sparkled with a cold blue.

"\- Gotta leave, Jilk,"\- The voice of Iskra sounded quiet, but persistent. "- You will not be able to return."

  * Aaoli, I'm coming!

After a second, he had already made a decision.

Trying to get down as fast as possible, holding on to the handrails of the stairs so as not to fly into the pink glow below, Jilk passed one floor of a technical level, and, being on the site of the next floor, got out of the mine into a spacious, dark room. On high racks, rows of black containers piled up to the ceiling.

Fine gray dust covered everything here.

A pink, flickering light rose from the shaft, reflected on the walls in front of Jilk. He fascinated, attracted his eyes, fantastic tints of sparkling sparkles. Spark had already come down and stood three steps from Jilk Ri, and the light of her lanterns hit him hard in the eyes.

Jilk squinted, turned away.

"- Why, Jilk? Why don't you hear me?"

Whisper "sang" about a promising, sincere feeling, about their future, about a distant bay on a quiet coast, about love. Now he felt a burning, unbearable desire to leave with her from here.

Go where he will always listen to her "song" - piercing, like a cold gust of wind on a hot day. To where he will always listen to her "song" - a piercing song, similar to a cold gust of wind on a hot day.

Jilk flinched.

He stepped back from the Spark, turned away from it, and literally forced himself to run along the wide corridor, raising clouds of dust with his magnetic boots. He fled in the opposite direction from the mine, to the compartments located at the very side of the spaceship.

  * Aaoli! I'm "two hours" from the mine! Go to the "two hours" to the board of the ship!

Having run even further a little longer, Jilk stopped, unfastened the clasp on his shoulder and removed the laser cutter, holding it tightly in his hands, watching the green light of readiness cheerfully illuminate the protective cover of the cutter. He mentally drew a large circle on the floor, and lowering the nose of the laser cutter, he pressed the "start" button.

A bright, red laser beam hit the surface of the floor at his feet, splashed molten metal-dazzling, sparkling, raspberry-colored drops flew, and quickly disappeared while cooling.

  * Kitten! Kitten, I see you. I'm near!

  * Watch out for the beam!- Jilk spoke quickly, the air inside his spacesuit became heavy and stale, a formidable haze of condensation appeared on the glass of his helmet.

And almost immediately, Nem Yu's voice burst into the air:

  * We see you, - strong interference, whistling and noise drowned out his words.

  * I don't know who you see there, Nem, Aaoli and I are downstairs. The second technical level, - he led the laser cutter to the left, his voice trembled. We don't have enough oxygen to return. Take one balloon and run to us! You still have time.

  * I see both of you distinctly,- Nem sounded calmly.- You wave my hand, Jilk. There are two groups of your marks on my direction finder.

  * We are in the ship! Hurry up!

"- He will not have time to get there, Jilk,"- the Spark stood a stone's throw from him. "- We must immediately leave. He will not be able to quickly go through the mine! Aaoli end, Jilk!"

The laser beam continued to cut the floor metal. Dazzling yellow- red sparks scattered in all directions, darkened like dying stars. Colorless smoke crawled like fog, and light played in it - yellow, red, white.

"- You will destroy us, love!"

He really wanted to look back to the mine, look at the end of the corridor along which he and Spark passed, to make sure that the path to salvation had not yet been cut off and that they could return back. The beam has already passed half the circle, cutting the way of escape for the florianess.

  * Kitten, I am cut off from the mine.

  * Coming soon. Wait.

  * It creeps towards me.

  * I soon.

Jilk hoped that Nem would find them without difficulty, he would find the directional beacon radio of their spacesuits. But the path through the mine is a long way ...

Nem's voice:

  * I don't care. Get out of my way!

  * I can bring you close, Nem,- Ziran's voice drowned in the radio noise.

  * Come on, faster! ... We'll be late! ...

Jilk almost finished cutting the passage, shouted on the air:

  * Nem, what's going on?

  * ... We will ... those ... come!

"- Jilk, it comes out of the mine!" - The telepathic scream of Spark quipped him with a scourge of fear. "- Drop her! Immediately!"

The beam touched the black furrow on the floor, from where he began his way. Jilk turned off the laser cutter and sharply looked back - there, at the end of the dark corridor where the platform began, the shaft opening was lit up with pink light, the brightness of the light from below, grew and intensified. He turned away, looked in front of him and kicked violently along the edge of the carved, uneven oval, and he trembled, sank and stopped. Then Jilk walked around the opening and kicked the slot in the place where the crippled floor did not yield.

  * Aaoli, watch out!

The cut, oval part of the floor fell down. She flashed in the rays of his lanterns, flew off somewhere down and disappeared from view. And in the next instant he saw sparks.

Aaoli stood against the wall below. Blindingly bright pink sparks covered part of the floor and the wall from the side of Aaoli standing there. Sparks, like a thick, dense swarm of myriads of fireflies, radiated a bright pink light crawling along a metal surface, like a luminous transparent film.

Their pink, soft light reflected on the fabric of Aaoli's spacesuit, shone in the glass of her helmet.

Sparks sometimes flashed brightly, to the pain in the eyes.

Aaoli stepped under the opening. She touched one of the buttons on the sleeve of her spacesuit. Having disconnected magnetic boots, she crouched and jumped up. Jilk also squatted, turned off the power of his magnetic boots, and prepared to jump.

She flew facing him.

He jumped towards Aaoli at the moment when the florianess, flying out of a hole in the floor, was almost opposite him. With one strong jerk, he rushed to meet her and after a second collided with her spacesuit, grabbed her shoulders with his hands and they both flew towards the wall.

The top and bottom swapped, in the face of Jilk, behind the glass of his helmet a pink light flashed, replaced by darkness. Seconds later, they hit the wall and stopped.

  * Shoes! Turn them on!- He shouted to her.

Jilk and Aaoli got to their feet heavily.

Nam's voice reappeared on the air:

  * ... Hold it straight! ... Closer ...

  * Go! ...- Ziran's voice drowned in the noise of interference.

Spark Whisper stood in its place, not moving like a statue, facing the shaft, and there Jilk saw a bright pink stream flowing down the corridor. Climbing over the edge of the shaft, this stream ran along the floor and walls, covering the ceiling of the corridor. Pink light filled the rectangular opening of the corridor, and lit up shelving and containers.

  * Kitten...

  * Quickly!

Spark Whisper was silent- she stood motionless.

  * Spark!

He and Aaoli almost ran, like fairy bugs, ran along the wall, went down to the floor and already half-awkward and slow, headed towards the wall of the hall.

To the outer wall of the ship.

The Spark did not respond. Putting her container on the floor at her feet, the girl slowly walked toward them.

"- We will die," - Spark sang a dull "song" filled with the bitterness of reproach ."- You killed us."

Jilk and Aaoli were already two steps away from the wall with a large, muddy porthole.

  * Step aside,- he turned on the laser cutter and the red beam began to cut the wall in front of them.

On the wall in front of them danced smoke and fire. An obscure light gleamed in the dusty porthole.

  * You haven't left, kitten.

Jilk was silent.

Behind the glass of a spacesuit, a yellow fire illuminated his face.

  * ... Beware! - Ziran's voice broke through the radio noise.- Left!...

  * I see," it was Nam's voice.

And then the high voice of the lazurianess Dawn Morning arose:

  * You will fall, Nam! ...

Suddenly the laser cutter in Jilk's hands died.

The bright beam disappeared, the green button on its casing went out.

Jilk hit the button with force - more, more ...

Nothing.

And then Spark stood beside him and mentally cried out:

"- Drop Jilk! We can still be saved. We must look for another way out of this tier. There must be another way!"

He realized that he had lost.

Aaoli stood to his right, two steps away, motionless, her arms lowered, the lanterns of her spacesuit shining on a cooling slot in the wall.

  * You tried, kitten,- her voice was quiet and steady.- Nem didn't have time.

"- Jilk, let's leave! It's coming to us!" - He heard the mental cry of Spark.

He turned and looked back.

A bright glow, pink, sparkling with dazzling dots, filled half the path that separated them from the mine. Now it flowed merrily and freely, absorbing any obstacles in its path. Jilk heard Spark's quiet rebuke and despair seized him.

They will all perish.

Now he did not doubt it.

His feelings were flooded by the cry of Spark:

"- You are a stubborn proud! You killed us all!"

But he could not do otherwise, and did not want to.

And there was something else. Jilk felt some kind of falsehood in what was happening, some mixed feeling of unreality, inappropriateness of what was happening to them. And an obscure, suppressed memory of something, all could not somehow make its way in his mind. And at that moment, when he thought this, a bright laser beam pierced the wall in front of him, threw out a fan of yellow sparks of molten metal and drew a red line near the slot, and connecting with it, moved upward, continuing to cut the saving hole. Someone outside the spaceship was cutting a passage for them.

Jilk pulled back - a laser beam nearly slashed his legs, struck very close to the spacesuit's boots.

Aaoli stepped aside.

The smoke of a turbid, expanding stream flew into the depths of the corridor.

  * Nam.

  * I, captain,- answered his voice in Jilk's earphones.- Watch out for the beam. In the mine, we would never have time to you.

Jilk smiled happily, to tears. His despair is gone, evaporated, giving way to glee. He turned to Spark, told her:

  * All is well.

Illyaness did not answer. She looked silently into his face and the Whisper eyes turned into two large violet lights. Their light shone on the glass of Spark's helmet, he played with blue glare on the metal of the glass fastening, lit up her forehead and cheeks.

Behind her rose a pink wall of light, like a curtain of implausible morning.

Jilk froze in place.

  * Jilk, Nam is finishing!- He heard her voice in the headphones.

Aaoli looked at Spark and saw now the same thing that Jilk saw now.

  * I'm all! Step back!

Jilk stepped back, looked at the wall and saw a large, uneven piece of wall with rounded edges that bounced, and freeing the passage, flew to the right. He nearly crashed into a standing Aaoli, rolled over and froze near the wall opposite.

In the aisle formed, Jilk saw a platform hanging in the blackness of space, covered by the light of searchlights and side lights, and the seven motionless figures in spacesuits sitting in her chairs.

Nem Yu stepped out from the edge of the opening, the noses of his boots sticking out from below, and waved.

  * Jilk, come out.

Jilk pushed Aaoli to the exit. He glanced briefly toward Spark and saw her face in the darkness illuminated by a violet light. It seemed that the light of her eyes flashed more and more every moment, glowed with an unreal radiance, alien, formidable. Jilk stifled shock and fear within himself, backed away, and stepped into the opening in the wall.

He climbed out, saw the stars and the light coming from the platform, saw Nem, Aaoli and Dawn standing near the opening, Nem's hands outstretched to him in white spacesuit gloves, with bright, reflective yellow stripes on his wrists ...

And his world collapsed.

Jilk froze in the opening as if paralyzed, in a daze, stunned by the new reality, his breathing was interrupted, and a painful spasm appeared in his throat. His life, suddenly split into two, like a porcelain cup, cracked and fell apart. The reality that he had just experienced was confronted with another reality - the real one, about which he completely forgot. Instantly, in an instant, those whom he had known for many years, whom he loved, remembered and knew, disappeared, died, ceased to exist. He looked at the platform hanging in front of the spaceship and saw among the rows of empty seats in it, two figures.

And a second later, the air broke the cry of Aaoli, desperate, which grew into a painful roar:

  * Kirk!- She screamed on a high note, as if from an unbearable, excruciating pain that could no longer be tolerated.- Kirk!

His own past arose from nothingness, like a heavy tormenting wave, overwhelmed him with a chilling memory, and Jilk gasped and trembled.

  * Go away, go, go! ...- this is the voice of the lazurianess Dawn Morning screaming, tearing his eardrums, brings him back to reality. - Nem, get him out!

Their hands pulled him outward, his shoes touched the outer skin of the ship, and deafly snapped the magnetic soles.

Jilk trembled.

Aaoli was a step away from Nem, her hands were raised to chest level - she continued to scream.

  * Kirk!

Lazurianess approached Jilk, and grabbing his shoulders, began to shake him.

He saw in a dim light her face behind a glass of a spacesuit - the girl's eyes were wide open, two wet streaks from tears glistened on her cheeks.

  * Jilk! We must get away from here! ...

  * Move your legs, man,- Nem's voice is muffled, unrecognizably alien and sounds like from afar.

Stars with a cold, still light shone smoothly and cleanly. To his right is the Oval nebula, hanging dull, tilted "donut", and a dim comet diamond froze slightly below, and somewhere there, moored to it, the tugboat is waiting for the living and acquaintances.

Jilk looked around. From the darkness of the hole beneath his feet, where he had just been, darkness looked at him.

Spark Whisper disappeared.

The pink fire is gone.

He looked again at the platform hanging nearby.

Who is behind the control?

Ziran?

Welie?

The platform sparkles with shunting engines - blue lights flash in its small nozzles. The platform's nasal searchlight is blazing with a blinding white light, and its powerful beam brightly illuminates the ship's destroyed antenna.

Platform.

Jilk is still shaking, but he has fully recovered from the shock, and the new feeling is bitter rage, tearing his heart and pushing him forward. All four Nem, Aaoli, Jilk and Dawn, one after another, climbed onto the platform and sat in chairs, fastened themselves with belts.

Without looking back, Ziran asked them:

  * Is everyone ready?

  * Yes,- Jilk answered him.

He sat on the extreme chair in the second row and looked at Nem's back, and was not able to turn his head toward the spaceship to look into the blackening void of a hole in his body.

  * Ziran, get away from here!

  * Shuttle, we're coming back!

The platform sharply picks up speed, leans to the left while performing a maneuver. A dead spaceship rolls off, runs away to their right. Jilk sees the distant shuttle lights.

  * Kirk!

******* *******

The shuttle picked up speed, taking them to the "Far".

Jilk was sitting in the pilot's seat.

To his left is Dawn, to the right is Welie. Aaoli, Nem, and Ziran sat in the second row of chairs behind him.

The compartment was dimly lit by two narrow lamps above the control panel, indicators shone with multi-colored lights. A distant comet loomed in the frontal porthole.

Jilk held the steering wheel with his hands, his palms were wet with sweat. He threw the gloves of the spacesuit in the transition compartment, where he left his helmet.

New - old reality, returned to Jilk with a new bitter meaning.

Spark Whisper with her love song and their decision to marry after the flight, their long love never existed in reality.

As was not their very love.

Recently, he was following someone who simply and easily inspired them with knowledge about a new, fake life. Like an obedient doll, he followed the skillful movements of the puppeteer, unaware of the presence of lies, not thinking of anyone's cunning in his feelings and decisions.

Spar Whisper did not exist.

As did not exist, and the race of Illyan telepaths.

But he still remembered her "song", she remained real for him and did not go into oblivion.

Jilk clearly saw now that he would carry within himself a new, bitter quality of himself, as his new name, rooted in his being, like new skin.

Rage strangled him.

He looked at himself in a new way and did not recognize himself.

He forgot everything!

He did not remember!

He did not remember them!

Jilk stared ahead of him into the darkness of the space unfolding in front of the shuttle, and again and again he saw his past.

He sees his son, sees how he runs along the concrete of the spaceport. He has grown up, becoming a year older. He spread his arms wide, and the loud sonorous word "folder" is ready to fly off his lips. And after him, with a smile and joy in his eyes, is his wife, his Dana.

Dana Lily of the Valley.

Dana Shine.

Jilk wanted to scream.

The darkness ahead of him, looked gloomily with its eyes-stars.

"- I forgot about them!"

A prickly, bitter lump rolled over in his throat, filling his eyes with moisture.

"- I forgot all of you, I did not remember you!"

And these words, drew the line between the Jilk, who was a few days ago, and the one who was sitting now at the helm of the shuttle, dispersing him in the dark. He sees the son running toward him, sees the wife following him, and yet it seems to Jilk that an abyss has already opened between them, divided them, killing the former Jilk Ri and throwing him far away.

Forever.

******* *******

  * This is stupid,- said Autumn South, sitting against him.

Five hours ago, the shuttle arrived at "Far".

Jilk wrote a report, then took a shower. Now he, Au, Aaoli and Krh Uch were sitting at a table in the dining room of the tugboat. It was a large dining room laden with two dozen white dining tables, with the same white chairs pushed to them. At this point, the dining room was almost empty.

Only at one table, in the far corner of the spacious room, were three energetic zaryan sitting quietly talking about something. At only one table, in the far corner of the spacious room, the three dawnians talked quietly about something. Two flat lamps burned above their table.

Jilk had already finished eating - two empty plates stood in front of him on the table, in his hand he held a tall glass with orange juice, from which he drank in small sips.

Aaoli almost did not eat. Sitting on the right side of Jilk, the florianess leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest. Her new white jumpsuit shone in the light of the lamp.

  * Don't be a noob, Jilk,\- said Uch in his guttural voice.- It is all over.

  * He's a noob, Krh,- Au laid his hands on the table in front of him, drumming his fingers.- He wants to visit places dear to his heart. I will write an obituary in your honor in verse.

Jilk silently drank from his glass.

  * Do you understand that this is dangerous?- Au fingers stopped their dance on the table.- Do you understand that the second time you can't return from there?

  * I want to make sure.

  * In what? Want to make sure you're an idiot?

  * He is the captain,- said Krh, and his thin cat mustache fluttered, the nostrils on his small nose widened.- Captain is a hero.

And Krkh Uch snorted with emphasis.

  * If it is dangerous there, then it is also dangerous here.- Jilk looked at the florian over his glass.- If everything ended there, then here too. What is the connection with "Strict"?

  * "Strict" is silent.- replied Au.- Does not answer the call.

  * Don't do this, Jilk.- Aaoli said softly, and her words sounded like a distant echo. Chill out.

Three dawnians at the end of the dining room rose from their seats and headed for the automatic receiver, carrying the dishes in their hands. The lights above their heads went out, but then the lamps at the exit of the dining room turned on.

  * This is not discussed,- said Jilk, and put your glass already empty on the table. Au, you will stay in tow instead of me.

Au grinned and said:

  * Krh can replace you. Or Nam. And I'm coming with you.

  * Not.

  * I'll go check the second shuttle. Two hours later, we leave the "Far".

When Au spoke like that, with a grin, with a stubborn expression in his gray eyes, Jilk knew it was useless to argue with him.

  * Two hours later,- said Jilk.

  * Two hours later,- Au replied.

Krkh Uch looked at each of them and summed up:

  * You are both noobs.

******* *******

The green light of the indicator under Jilk's chin burned with a steady, emerald light. The sensors of the spacesuit systems showed "normal". He stood in front of a black uneven hole in the ship's hull, alarmed by his presence here, as if he had decided to do something rude and nasty.

The rays of the lanterns of his spacesuit fell into the darkness in front of him, grabbed a dull gray floor and part of the wall on the left, where on the floor were two rows of large steel containers and four black cables lay.

Jilk Ri looked back.

To do this, he had to turn his whole body, holding his hand by the edge of the casing of the spaceship crippled with a laser cutter. About thirty steps away from him, a platform hung in a black void - close, reliable, real. The light of his spotlights illuminated only the front of the site and two metal articulated stops that go to infinity right on the course and there he was lost, melted, disappeared. Dressed in an Au spacesuit, he sat in the front row of chairs in front of the platform control panel, sat awkwardly turning toward Jilk. Waved his hand. Au took the platform to the side, ready to go to the shuttle in case of danger.

That was their agreement. If anything happens to Jilk, then Au had to fly to the "Far" and take command of the tug. Jilk did not believe that Au would fulfill this promise.

He waved his hand back - the white glove of the spacesuit lit up with lanterns, as if it had caught fire in bright white light.

  * I'm here, man,- the voice of Au sounded in Jilk's helmet.- You can refuse your venture. I will understand.

  * You don't want to become a captain, Au?

  * I prefer a quiet life.

Jilk stepped over the cut edge of the hole — the multi- layered, crippled body of the ship sparkled with bulkheads, and two bright spots of light danced in front of him. He looked in front of him into an empty corridor, going into the depths of the ship - dark, dead.

Jilk suddenly imagined that if he walks a few steps, the Spark Whisper will leave the open hatch of the neighboring compartment - her spacesuit is covered with gray dust, as old as this ship, the lights of the spacesuit went out, and her eyes lit up with purple fire. With an inner effort, he drove away this thought from himself, and went down the corridor, looking around like a thief. But a sense of fear, stupid and superstitious, remained in him. He admitted to himself that he was now afraid to hear her "song", her "voice".

And if he hears? What then?

He did not know.

Voice Au:

  * Why are you silent?

  * Nothing to say. Everything died here.

  * Was it worth flying here for this?

  * Worth it, Au. It was worth it.

  * You know better.

He walked slowly and the sound of his footsteps was muffled, transmitted through his spacesuit's shoes — a quiet sound in the gloom. To the right under a high ceiling, on powerful holders, was a small aircraft, flat, with an open cockpit and bubble tanks under a steel belly. To the left of the wall, a flat screen glistened matte, apparently the ship's internal communications.

He slowly walked down the corridor to the place where he had cut the floor of a tier several hours ago to save Aaoli. The uneven hole in the floor remained in its place, it did not disappear, did not turn out to be a figment of his imagination. He stopped a step away from this hole and turned to the place where Spark was then standing, to where she had placed a portable instrument container next to her.

There was no container.

Jilk lit everything around with his lights, but did not find her container.

The container has disappeared.

And he never existed.

Relief and joy swept Jilk. He could not stop laughing and laughed, and then he heard Au's voice in his headphones:

  * What's so funny? Do not be silent.

  * Nothing, Au. I'm coming back.

Back to the exit from another spaceship, Jilk walked briskly, as if this was his usual place for walking.

He passed it.

He made sure.

Now he will return to his own and will never forget them.

Having reached the opening, Jilk turned back \- there in the gloomy and dull darkness of the corridor, there was no one. A pink fire did not appear, nor was anyone chasing it.

Stepping over the edge of the hole, he straightened, looked forward.

The platform still hung in its place, and So waved his hand, said:

  * Well? Ghost date is over?

  * Yes.

  * Stay still, I'll let the platform down now.

And watching how the platform's engines came to life, how the blue flashes of fire broke out in their nozzles, Jilk smiled to himself, and almost joyfully, almost relievedly thought:

"- That's all. This was my last flight. Stop wandering. Enough phantoms, enough all sorts of" songs "for me. Dana Lily of the Valley, Jilk the Younger, I am returning to you. I'll fix it! We'll always be together!"

******* *******

Chapter 13

Transport Big.

The giant skeleton BET, striking the imagination with its size, dimly shining with "ribs" of farms, went far ahead, where in the rays of AS-2 it turned into a solid gray mass of the mounted case. AS-2, Artificial Star-2, - a bright, orange ball on the left, hung in a black, bottomless space strewn with unblinking stars.

On the iron beam, which is now being mounted, the green lights of marker beacons installed along its entire length at equal intervals shine brightly, they extend far to the opposite end, block I-449, and there they are interrupted by the large yellow light of the lighthouse, control post.

Sol Dean was waiting.

Dressed in the Medusa installation suit, with the safety cable attached to the cradle, a small platform with a guard, he looked at the preparatory maneuvers of the orbital tugs- OT. OTs single-place, tugboats, have been used in such works from the very beginning of construction and over more than a century of history, have undergone few changes. A thick rear with shunting and running engines, a glass bubble of the pilot's cabin, and two powerful manipulators, stretched out on the sides of the tugboat forward, like the tentacles of a fabulous crab. On all sides of the OB, the parking lights glowed blue below and yellow above.

Sol looked left and down at his partner.

Drrak fastened to the cradle with a long cable, hung in a void, about ten meters from Saul, in his four-legged suit, his limbs were spread out, tools dangled on his belt.

Sol grinned.

Drrak Brick looked foolish in his spacesuit.

For six months now, they have been working together at BET, and before that, they studied at the Institute of Installation Works at Dawn for four years. Sol spent a lot of energy and nerves in order for the commission to send Brick to study in the same group with him.

In his helmet was heard the rustle of radio interference and the voices of negotiations between the dispatcher and the OB pilots. The installers have not yet aired. He again looked into the distance, at the nose of BET. The beam prepared for installation hung above the main frame of the BET, and its dull yellow end, closest to the Sun, hung a hundred meters above his head. The OB that was closest to Sol, grabbing the edge of the beam with his arm manipulators, was illuminated by flashes of shunting engines. The tugboat has already reached the estimated distance from the BET frame; he held the beam waiting for the dispatcher's command. Twenty of the same OBs hung along the entire length of the beam, decreasing to the size of a mosquito at its other end. To the right, behind Sol Sol, loomed the "Bagel" control station - a large residential complex, which stood on three metal extensions attached to the BET main farm.

The time will come when the installation work in this segment of the Transport will be completed and the "Bagel" will be moored and driven to a new parking place. For more than a hundred years, the installation of BET has continued. The assembly of the main frame has not yet been completed, and the installation of sheet skin will begin, at best, in another fifty years. Work continued on the construction of the Transport - numerous residential complexes-cities grew, flyovers for transport and vital communications were built, blue welding lights sparkled, and powerful spotlights illuminated the emerging BET interior.

The diameter of the BET was four kilometers, and its length is forty-two.

  * OB-14, your march is 17.85. Scheduled speed. Keep driving mode.

  * I know, Jace. I was not born yesterday.

  * OB-3, you're not getting it! The lag behind the line is 0.5.

  * Got it, dispatcher.

Somewhere in the chain of lined OB, one of the tugboats blinked with the blue lights of the engines.

Three, four flashes.

  * Everything is done, dispatcher. I'm in the ranks.

  * Hey, on the center! The group leaves. Everyone gather at the transport ...

  * Who got on the installation frequency?- The dispatcher's voice reached an angry scream.- Change the frequency immediately!

  * Everything, everything. Already gone. Shriek in frenzy. Do not hoarse!

  * Conductors! The report will be! Gren Elu? Are you so smart there?

  * I left already!

Sol listened to the voices on the air and grinned involuntarily.

He looked to where in a black void, a steel beam hung motionless. From where Sol was now, he saw her as a long, flat ruler, illuminated by marker beacons and OB lights. In fact, the beam had a width of three meters with a thickness of a meter. Strengthening bulkheads shone inside her, like an iron, symmetrical web.

Sol Dean was waiting.

If OB pilots do not synchronize their devices within an hour, then Sol will be replaced by another installer, his change will end.

  * For a long time they are busy there,- sounded in his helmet a discontented voice of Brick. What are they messing with? Four hours have passed!

Sol turned to the left.

Drack was already hanging in the void, he was next to him, holding on to the fumble of the cradle fence - he shone with a narrow beam of a spotlight on his helmet. Sol even saw the displeased expression in his green, cat's eyes. It is possible that it seemed to Sol.

A green lamp blinked at the top of the "Bagel", which meant that a cargo shuttle from a transport spaceship had not yet arrived.

  * Soon already,- Sol said.- Don't relax.

He heard the drrak snort contemptuously and smile. Brick usually snorted at moments of excitement.

  * OB-1 is ready.

  * OB-2 is ready.

  * OB-3 is ready.

  * OB-5 is ready.

  * OB-4, did you fall asleep there, or what ?

  * Ready, me. Ready.

  * OB-6 is ready.

  * The roll call began. Get ready,\- Sol examined the installation site in front of him - a wide steel rib of the main frame with a three-meter rectangular recess in the landing groove. A banding of yellow-black stripes and blunt teeth of retainers passed along the entire perimeter of the groove. He illuminated the installation site with his searchlight, and for the umpteenth time was convinced that everything was in order. The measured groove boundaries glistened with a smooth steel surface, the teeth of the retainers are open.

  * ... OB-16 is ready.

  * OB-17 is ready.

  * It's still beautiful here,- said Brig softly.- I like it here.

A searchlight sticking out over the "cradle" flashed every detail of Brick's spacesuit, making the tools on his belt glow.

  * Well, guys, let's get started?- dispatcher's voice laughed, sharply loudly.- Are the installers ready?

  * Ready,- said Sol.

He and Brik looked at each other.

  * Let's start,- the dispatcher's voice disappeared for a long time and suddenly gave way to a loud, short signal.

Orbital tugs flashed blue nozzle lights, synchronously and clearly, began towing the beam for installation.

  * "Seven" do not push! Loosen up.

  * Got it.

  * Do not allow the screw. Watch the radar gunner.

"Screw" in the language of the pilots meant the deformation of the beam along its axis.

Sol Dean stood higher, on the wide step of the main frame and grabbed the narrow, curved handrails, and now stood above the landing groove, almost waist-deep above it, looking at the movement of the beam and the orbital tugs. Brick pulled himself to a nearby staircase with a safety cable. Following safety precautions, he did not look beyond the edge of the main frame and remained below its level.

Tugboats led the beam. First they had to insert one end of it into the mounting groove on the opposite side of the Sol, and then the second side. The side of Sol and Brick was the finish side.

  * We are on schedule.

  * OB-4 do not push!

Dotted with lights, the beam slowly sailed in space. Another twenty minutes passed and the dispatcher said:

  * Sector 2 in place. "Ear" in the groove. Take control.

And after a minute, the voice of the installer's Choka River said:

  * The dispatcher. Ear in the groove. The mount is reliable. You can finish.

  * The guys started. Without haste, calmly.

Again, the sound of a signal sounded in Sol's helmet.

Tugs came to life with flashes of engines and short reflections of light, illuminated the edges of the beam. They held the beam in their arms-manipulators.

  * Sol,- the dispatcher said.- She's coming at you.

  * We are ready,- he answered.- We are waiting.

In front of him was a platform with a gaping groove. Now everything depended on the tugs.

It is they who will put the beam in its place in the groove, and Sol will only have to remove the carabiner-retainer from it and insert it into the mount, and then take measurements.

All.

Then the welders will enter the business - they will weld the landing ear of the beam with the body of the rib of the frame, and the tabs protruding outward will be removed.

The beam grew in front of him, closer, closer. When the flat end of the beam, sparkling with its edges, already hung a meter from Sol, the ether came to life in excited voices.

  * Dangerous structural stress!- this is the voice of the Choka River. Dispatcher. This is sector 2. Ear crushes! I repeat, the ear presses. Offset along the longitudinal axis!

  * End, loosen the pull ...

  * Stop! Turn off the engines!

  * Watch out!

  * She went!

And the beam "went"!

Its end opposite from Sol, jumped out of the mounting groove, Sol only saw the trembling of distant lights along its length and, obeying the tension, she rushed up, like a bent branch released by someone. Holding his breath, Sol Dean looked at a curving beam with a hump, and saw how on the opposite side, he threw two tiny bubbles of light away from BET.

  * The tugs ripped off!

  * Rescuers! Sector 3, 4.

  * Hold the line!

  * The ends loosen! ...

  * She goes!...

Like a sea wave, the hump of a curved beam ran towards Sol, rapidly growing. He watched as the tugs were torn off, how they were scattered to the sides, how the lights of lighthouses and the flashes of blue splashes of light and the fire of the surviving tugboats, trying to maintain the structural strength of the beam. They tried to hold her back. The blackness of space was colored by colorful lights. Sol stared and lost precious seconds.

The end of the beam closest to him wavered. He began to leave Sol quickly, diving down. Having looked out from behind the edge of the frame, the drrak had already begun to unfasten the snap hook of the safety cable. Brick turned to face Sol. Sol bent down, felt a flat step under his right foot, and tried to hide behind the edge of the frame behind a mighty steel wall, when the hump of the beam reached its edges and she abruptly stopped her movement, rushed towards Sol. Not having time to dive under the protection of the frame, Sol saw with a side vision a sharp movement of light in his direction. He was already leaving, turning to the left, rather, letting go of the stairs, and already knew that he was late.

His flooring kick. A crushing blow to his right ribs and shoulder.

He was thrown forward; everything revolved around, desperate and fast. Lights flashed in the glass of the helmet, mixing with impenetrable darkness.

And almost immediately he felt a second blow, softer than the first, in his stomach and chest, from which Sol's breath was knocked out and was blurred in his eyes. Dull pain spread from the right shoulder and down. Sol swirled in the void, flew off somewhere, helplessly tumbling and gasping for air. Before his eyes flashed the lights of the "Bagel" and the large yellow fire of the AS-2.

The artificial star flashed and faded again in front of his face. Sol was spinning like a wheel.

Misfortune.

"- I'm gone!"

Now death.

Under his chin on a narrow panel of indicators, the red fire of the accident burned.

Depressurization of the spacesuit.

Voices and screams on the air merged into a continuous, inaudible noise. And at that moment he felt a push in his right side, and behind the glass of his helmet came a hand in a bright yellow glove, with a white stripe in his palm.

Brik!

  * I'm here,- the drrak's voice said in his headphones.

Sol wanted to say something but could not, wheezed.

From the punctured suit somewhere, air escaped, the pressure inside the suit dropped sharply, everything began to spin in head, and a nasty, thin squeak appeared in ear.

Sol looked toward Brick.

Drrak quickly pulled a red wide plate of vacuum plaster from the mounting pocket, fiddling to the right, out of Sol's field of vision, apparently trying to close the hole in his spacesuit. Both of them twisted and turned over in a space void and carried away farther and farther from the bulk of the BET frame. Sol saw Brick's glove flashing in front of his helmet, with a hose and a shiny fitting at its end. Brick connected the tank to the air of Sol's suit with his own.

Now both of them are connected by one umbilical cord, and the air of the drrak enters the Sol suit.

Now this is their common air.

Last.

Brick held Sol, clasping his shoulders, the light of his lantern beat from the side, oblique, dazzling.

Huge BET crawled from its side, covering the whole space, and again went down, sparkling in the rays of the three AS. And now rescue ships were rushing off somewhere, sparkling with blue flashes of their engines, beacons and marker lights flickered.

Sol was silent.

He almost fell asleep.

  * They will come for us, Sol.

  * Brick, I'm sorry ...

  * They will come for us.

They swept further and further, circling in the void in a leisurely whirlwind of death. And Sol suddenly quite clearly realized that no one had time to save them. He understood this and somehow calmed down immediately. Sol stopped resisting the sickening dream. Only annoyance appeared and did not leave him.

The annoyance that Brick will die because of him.

Already falling asleep, he listened to voices and commands that sounded somewhere in distant infinity.

  * Brick, ...- Sol's voice trailed off.- Because of me. Sorry. It's because of me...

Brick did not answer.

"\- He was expecting this,"- thought Solu with understanding. "- He is leaving with me."

And Sol Dean, the installer and the slack-baked-engineer, passed out.

******* *******

Chapter 14.

Home.

  * Hello, friend,- Brick said, and sat on a soft, leather chair next to the patient's bed.- I brought you the fruits of Jula. You love them.

He laid a white plastic bag with oval red fruits on the bedside table next to Sol's headboard, folded his front paws-hands on his knees-paws. Sitting in this way was uncomfortable for him.

The hospital's hospital room was brightly lit by panel lamps under the ceiling, white, dull walls reflected light, a large, round porthole in the wall above Brick's head, showed the right side of BET.

In a black void, over construction sites, modules and tugs flew and hung, somewhere near a moored spaceship whose stern, wide as a cup, protruded from behind the shiny edge of the porthole, sparkling blue flashes of welding. And if take a closer look, could see small figures of installers in white and yellow spacesuits standing on the frame of the Transport.

  * Thank you,- Sol tried to get up, gently holding his right hand with his left hand, hanging from the band.- How are you?

  * I am fine,- the narrow lips of the drrak smiled slightly.- Now I went, wrote an explanatory note to the Commission of Installation Works.

  * And?

  * It seems to me that they want to award me a medal for salvation in space.

  * That's good, Brick!

  * And you will be reprimanded.

  * Hm, this is bad.

They both laughed at the same time, and everything became simple and easy.

  * The beam interrupted your safety cable, Sol. The Commission believes that you are a slob.

  * Did they say that?

  * They said worse about you, Sol. I just don't want to upset you.

  * This is bullshit! They are a commission and they need to say something. You will be awarded a medal, and you will cover me with this medal.

  * Yap.

Sol reached for the bag with his healthy hand, involuntarily winced in pain, took out one fruit, he wanted to bite it, but changed his mind and said:

  * Will you?

  * I don't eat that.

  * My bones will grow together soon,\- Sol gritted his teeth on a juicy fruit, sweet juice dripping down his chin.- The doctor said it could be much worse. If not you...

Brick snorted.

He watched Sol chew, listened to his words, and was silent. Brick was calm.

And yet he was embarrassed. He wanted to leave here as soon as possible and go somewhere, for example, to the "Bagel" greenhouse, to sit there in the spruce forest, where it seems that you are at home, on Or, and not far in space.

Brick listened to himself.

Somewhere deep in Brick's heart, sadness and longing for Or stirred, softly whispering to him about the past, talking about irrevocable. He really wanted to close his eyes and imagine one of the days when he was happy to imagine that he was back in the past, and there, in his distant past, he walks with Likes, and she is dear and close, his part, his soul is always will be by his side, and nothing will separate them.

He lived by her.

  * Besides, Brick, they won't let me out of here ahead of time.- Sol had already eaten the fruit, and reached for another.- The doctor said that not earlier than in a few days. Although I'm already healthy as a bull. Well, almost healthy ...

Half an hour later, a nurse, a tall, young florianess in white overalls, entered the room and Brick left. He went to the seventeenth tier of the "Bagel", where the greenhouse was located.

There, in the silence of a small forest, looking at an imitation of a stream, he will begin to recall to Likes, her words, her smell, her look ...

He walked to the third-level intersection, heading for the elevator shaft. Three florians installers stood by the left wall and spoke quietly about something among themselves. Brick almost passed their company, when he suddenly heard behind him mocking words thrown into his back:

  * Hero. Well done.

  * Now he will be awarded.

  * From such joy, his girlfriend will stop eating mice.

He froze in place, did not turn to them.

  * He left her at home.

  * Left her alone?

  * Yes, apparently. If he does not have a good brother.

  * This is wrong, Tukch. Suddenly she will run away?

It seemed to him that he turned to them for ages and saw their faces, their eyes.

  * She won't run away. Drraks keep their females in tether. He will bring her a new collar.

Likes was with him.

She was now with him, in his thoughts and the words of the florians sounded like a blow to her face. A stuffy rage burned his body, filled his eyes with fire, and an instant before the jump of the drrak, the three florians were silent. In a jump, swift and dumb, Brick released sharp, long claws from his thick, clumsy fingers and, having fallen on these three, delivered the first killing blows. The first florian, tall and broad-shouldered, flew up to the wall, blood spattered on the floor, and somewhere under the white ceiling a high scream hung. The other two clutched at him. Having formed a ball of three fighting bodies, they rolled across the floor, leaving bloody traces behind them.

Brick beat until the consciousness died out in him.

******* *******

Sol stood for a long time at the closed door of the hospital room where Brick was.

The brightly lit corridor of the hospital was quiet. On one of the armchairs in the corridor, directly opposite the nurse's post, three dawnians sat and talked quietly about something, not paying attention to Sol. A nurse sat at a table and, bending over a computer keyboard, quickly dialed something. The door to the ward opened and a doctor came out, a tall and handsome Florian, already hoary, in white overalls, with red embroidery on his left chest, depicting a drop of blood and rays of light. He closed the door behind him and went to Sol.

He was already standing on his feet, holding a sore arm hanging on the band.

  * Hello, Doctor.

  * Good afternoon, young man.

  * I came yesterday ...

  * I'm not a sclerotic. I remember, - the doctor looked Sola in the eyes, not blinking, as only the florians can, he restedly sighed and said.- Good. Today you can go to him, not for long. Fifteen minutes, no more.

  * How is he, doctor?

  * Three operations. Everything went well, but it will take a long time to recover. I agree to let you go to him, but on condition that you will not bother him. Talk to him about abstract topics. Do you understand me?

  * Yes. Of course.

Sol entered the room, closed the door behind him and turned to look at the lonely figure lying on the bed.

Brick looked bad.

He was lying on his back, covered with a white sheet, all wrapped in bandages - his head, hands and even fingers on his hands and feet were bandaged. Only his eyes, small nose and lips were open.

Brick did not sleep.

He silently looked at Sol.

Sol Dean portrayed on face, as it seemed to him, a laid-back smile, and going up to the chair near the bed, he said cheerfully:

  * Hi, Brick.

  * Hello,- he said quietly and calmly.

  * How do you?

Brick did not answer, silently looked into Sol's eyes.

For a while they silently looked at each other.

The lighting panel poured its soft, white light onto drrak. His bandages seemed to shine with dazzling whiteness.

  * Brick, those three will never be here. After discharge, they will be sent back to Floria,- for some reason, it was difficult for him to look into the eyes of a drrak.- There was a trial in the Commission of Order. They wanted to send you back to Or, but I proved that it's not your fault. You will fly home to Dawn. When will you recover. I have one friend in the Landscaping Service, you must remember him, he is so bald...

  * Twig.

  * Yes. Twig. Funny name.- Sol laughed too loud, too insincere.- I will call him at Dawn, and he will arrange you for his service. And after six months, my shift will end, I will return to Dawn and you and I will wave somewhere on the equator. Remember Green Bay? You liked it there...

  * Sol.

  * Or for example, the base is Purple. Wonderful place!

  * Sol.

Sol was silent.

Ceasing to smile, he asked:

  * What, Brick?

  * I know you're a punch guy, Sol. You're doing fine. Thank you for your friendship. It's not easy for me to tell you this. But I have one request for you. Just one request, Sol.

  * Brick, I will do everything in my power. You know.

  * Go back to the commission, you can, I know. Let them send me home, Sol. Home on the Or. Please, Sol.

  * Brik, listen, buddy ...

  * I want to go home. Home.

And the drrak Brick closed his green eyes and fell silent.

An hour later, Sol Dean was already standing in the office of the head of the order committee, middle-aged, broad-shouldered dawnian, and asked for Brick. He requested to fulfill his request.

Send Brick to Or.

******* *******

Part two.

Beginning of the End.

Chapter 1.

Late visit.

Was noon.

The big star stood at its zenith - a huge bright orange ball that poured out heat and blinding light. The Northern Cosmodrome - a concrete sea stretching to the horizon, breathed heat and heated the stuffy air. His shadow, shrinking under his feet into a dark lump, probably also languished from the heat. To the left of Jilk was the "Polus" passenger spacecraft, thin, with its sharp, sparkling nose pointed toward the bottomless sky, resting on powerful supports. Passengers of the "Polus" left the ship a long time ago, its gangway was removed, and he was lonely, waiting for the next flight.

To his right was a transport spacecraft from deep space. He looked like a gorged, fat cat and on its pot-bellied side there were white letters of the name of the ship – "Snowflake".

Snowflake.

He heard something about this ship.

Jilk grinned, adjusted the strap of his heavy bag on his shoulder. In the bag, among other things, rested a transparent container with a model of a sailboat.

For Jilk Jr.

Jilk Ri walked in a soft, springy gait. In a white shirt with short sleeves, light beige sandals on a bare foot. In white, uniform trousers. He always after the flight, walked to the spaceport. At first, from the ship to the Dispatching room, he got on a company bus, there he handed in a report, and from there he headed for the spaceport.

That was his tradition.

Farewell to space and meeting with Dawn.

It was as if he needed time to get used to his native sky. To bring their feelings and thoughts into a new order, where there is only this sky and only this world. Tradition.

This time, Jilk filed a report on his resignation.

Together with the report on the flight "Far".

"I am Jilk Ri, the captain and first pilot of the "Far" tugboat assigned to the Deep Fleet, assigned to base No. 291, declare my resignation ..."

He smiled, easily and freely, as if he had done something that he had long been carrying in his thoughts, matured and only now realized.

The family will be happy.

Now there will be no long flights. He will get a job somewhere for passenger transportation, and besides, he will be gladly accepted there.

Three kilometers from the control room to the spaceport, half an hour getting to know your world and yourself.

As always.

He looked forward.

The dark blue dome of the spaceport rose before him like a huge hemisphere, sparkling with glass windows. On a clearly visible platform from here are cigars of passenger antigravs. Two high flyovers of high-speed trains froze in trembling air, they rise above sparkling concrete like two yellow branches, straight as an arrow.

A lone figure moved toward him.

Dana.

She was wearing a light summer dress, light green in color, with a white, thin belt at the waist. Her white shoes flickered to the beat of her steps. Dana's blond hair seemed to him like dandelion fluff. Dana- Lily of the Valley.

Dana - Dandelion.

Dana- Light.

They met.

Jilk wanted to kiss his wife, but she gently pulled away from him and took a step back. Lana's face was calm.

Feeling anxious, he asked her:

  * Did something happen to Jilk?

  * No,- she raised her hand, and removed the light strand of hair falling into her eyes. He is at the children's camp. Resting. I meet you alone, Jilk. Hello.

They looked into each other's eyes, and he felt some kind of ringing emptiness between them.

  * Let's go,- she said.

They leisurely headed to the spaceport.

  * I resigned.- Jilk tried to smile, but the smile was not genuine.- With the Deep Fleet, it's all over.

  * I'm happy for you, Jilk. You began to understand something.

She walked silently for some time, walking next to him — light, calm, alien.

  * Jilk. I have been waiting for you for years. You must know, we are no longer husband and wife. I went to another person and we love each other. I do not blame you for anything, but it could not last forever in space, you have your own life, and Jilk and I are alone here, abandoned.

  * What? You...

  * You heard everything. And I am loved. And I love. That's all you need to know, Jilk. You can date your son at any time. He loves you very much, Jilk and always waiting. Always. I will bring it to your parents' house. Is this his sailboat?- She glanced briefly at Jilk's bag.- I will not become an obstacle between you and my son. This is cruel and wrong ...

She continued to speak, addressing Jilk calmly- she was not nervous, as if all the words had already been thought out and prepared for him beforehand.

But he did not listen to her.

He saw now in front of him a sparkling block of comet, hanging in a black void, when the shuttle carried them to "Far"- away from the iron dead man and listened to thoughts, which he thought at that moment, hot with rage and shame:

"- I will never forget you! Now we will always be together. Always, always! ..."

He stopped.

The world, his homeworld, did not recognize him. And this high sky will no longer become his native, as before. The world was showered with sharp, sparkling fragments, with a roar, ringing and clanging.

Dana took a few more steps forward, then stopped, and looking back, she said:

  * You're late, Jilk. You are late to live.

And she left.

There, in the black corridors of a dead ship, his belated, bitter cry thundered.

******* *******

Chapter 2.

You lost it.

It was already getting dark.

The Big Star, reddened and bright, touched the horizon with its edge.

Behind the grass-covered hollow, a dull, darkening forest began and on the left under a low hill, a quiet, dark river flowed.

He walked toward the forest, without looking around, walked leisurely, listening to the twitter of distant, invisible birds, looking at the grass that was rustling under his feet and inhaled the smells of flowers and dry, dusty earth. On Brick's leather belt, an aluminum flask hung a small bag pulled his right side.

A gentle evening wind blew and it seemed to Brick that this world was noisy and loud, calming down, plunges into a nap, prepares to fall asleep until the next day.

It always happens- the rampage is replaced by fatigue.

Brick remembered his youth and the unbridled upsurge that pushed him forward, who carried him in his arms to the unknown corners of this world, inspiring him with a sense of joy and hope for new and good.

And he was curious.

Brick in his youth was a curious drrak.

But then with age, experience came to him.

He reached the forest, turned left to the river and walked past the trees and bushes, collecting dry thorns and burrs on his short fur. The river was drawn by dampness and coolness, and there he would stay for the night.

This was the place of Likes.

Here she died.

From here she went to another world, to another sky, to another Big Star.

Brick has not been here for a long time.

He often thought, looking at the stars, when no one was near him and nothing could invade his thoughts and feelings to prevent him from thinking about her- does she remember him now? Does she think of him? Or in that far and inaccessible world, the memory of the past is erased in the same way as yesterday, full of events and names?

What is he now for her?

Brick believed that he would meet her - there, very far from here, in a world that you can't see from here, even if you really want to, it's impossible to touch, but it's possible if you sit quietly at night, when there is nobody around, except the stars, then for moments you can hear that distant world, as if having been there, in the invisible, eternal, as light as the fluff of trees.

He went to the river.

The water in it darkened, a quiet current, an almost inaudible rustling of waves, beating against a clay coast.

It smelled of seaweed and fish.

And was fresh.

Brick walked along the very edge of the water and wet prints of his paws- feet remained behind him. Wet and heavy from water, sparse branches, blackened without leaves, lay in clay and faded.

It was calm, quiet and solemn.

On the left side a hill plunged into darkness rose. Brick stopped beside the old, crooked driftwood and sighed softly. He stood for a while, looking somewhere deep in the dark water and said:

  * Hello, I'm here.

He listened to himself.

There was no bitterness and a feeling of loss. He was well and calm, as if he had come home.

He went to the earthen mound, from which a lone tree protruded.

Brick sat down heavily next to him on the dead grass and, leaning back, leaned against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes.

Is too early.

Stars are not yet visible.

They are still hidden behind the dark sky of Oh.

Likesu.

Of course she was not here now. But Brick believed that when he thinks about her, then there, in a distant and joyful world, Likesu recalls him, and it's like they're approaching each other, they hear each other's thoughts and feelings, they can hold hands and go somewhere without caring about anything ...

Brick fell asleep.

He had a dream.

The high blue sky, filled with the sound of peace, hangs above it - eternal, peaceful, and they walk with Likesu, and a fresh wind blows over their faces, and only peace and simplicity of life ahead is easy and joyful.

Have they parted?

Not.

It was a bad dream, not a good dream, and his hope drives away everything evil and painful and it will not be remembered, because they are together and will never part.

He woke up suddenly, from alien voices, harsh, superfluous here. Brick opened his eyes and, not yet recovering from a dream, often blinked his eyes, not understanding how he ended up here. The silver moon shone with its light all around, dividing the colors and shades of the night into black and light gray. The water in the river shone like smooth metal.

There were five of them.

People.

They stood next to Brick.

One of them was skinny, in an unbuttoned light shirt and dark trousers, holding a backpack in his right hand, and a fishing rod in his left hand. They smelled of fish and tobacco.

Brick slowly rose to his paws.

  * He woke up,- said one of those who stood to the left of Brick.- It's night, and you see, he's sleeping. And he doesn't catch mice.

Brick looked at the skinny and could not understand what attracted his attention.

  * He has already had supper,- the voice on the right, mocking and low.- Drrack should not eat much, otherwise he will become fat and will not be able to drag his fat ass.

They laughed.

The skinny looked at Brick silently and on his lips, narrow and dark, a wistful smile wandered.

Brick suddenly realized what attracted his attention to the skinny. Its smell.

  * Is he alone here?- asked another, the one on the left.- He is not even afraid of the dark.

  * He has nothing to fear. Who needs his old skin?

  * He's not old yet. And fluffy.

  * No, it seems to me that he is a shabby cat. Maybe he has fleas.

  * Fleas? Unlikely. He bit them for a long time. He ate them and went to sleep.

Friendly laughter again.

  * He is silent. Maybe this is a non-speaking cat? Shek? What do you think? Maybe they mutate and turn into ordinary cats?

  * Maybe he's dumb. Hey cattle, are you dumb?

The smell came from a skinny one.

It was that smell.

The smell that Brick remembered forever, like the pain of touching a hot iron, like a children's nightmare. The smell of the key fob, long gone, but preserved in his memory.

  * Surely dumb. And in such a furry skin. Runk, do you need a skin? The skin near the fireplace looks good.

  * I don't have a fireplace.

  * But the skin is already there!

Brick climbed into the bag that hung on his belt, pulled out a blackened keychain from it, looked at him and threw it to the skinny fisherman at his feet, said:

  * You lost it.

He bent down, took the keychain in his hand and turned to the light of the moon, began to examine it. Brick did not see his face. It is possible that his face has changed, it is possible that the skinny has recognized his loss.

  * What have you got there? What did he throw?

The skinny fisherman hastily put his hand in the pocket of his shirt and answered casually:

  * Crap.

But Brick heard in his voice a breakdown that happens to people trying to hide their anxiety.

"Does she remember me?" He thought.

He stood in front of these suddenly silent people when the first blow hit him on the left- piercing blow. The air from his lungs flew out, with wheezing, with a funny hiccup.

To the right above drrak's head, the steel of the second knife flashed. And again a stab in the back, under the right shoulder blade.

"- Likesu."

He crouched on his hind legs, refraining from falling. He crouched on his hind legs, refraining from falling, straightened his knees under his again, and raised his head.

"- Does she remember?"

Blows rained down on him at the same time.

He still stood motionless, like a statue, stubbornly looking in front of him. In nowhere.

The whole world, flashing with sparks of colorful pain, swirled around Brick, filled with stuffy nausea. He swung to the side, and suddenly it became easy. Brick did not feel, falling, he buried his furry face in the damp and smelly clay of the shore, and did not notice long hunting knives that had sunk into his neck.

He already sees how he goes to her meeting, smiling in advance, ready to meet his happiness. He already sees the high sky above his head, blue, bright and new.

And the breath of pure coolness ...

Darrk Brick is dead.

******* *******

Глава 3.

Secret assembly.

It was hot and stuffy in a spacious room with a low ceiling in an ancient bunker, where the conspirators were sitting at a large long mahogany table. At the closed armored door, there were four Space Security officers- two dawntians and two florians. Near the opposite wall, sitting on chairs, three plain-clothes people sat bored, and next to them was a large box painted black with two powerful small handles on each side. On top of the drawer, on its smooth, black lid, a green indicator light blinked.

  * This is unthinkable,- Eun Si, secretary of public relations at the CCW, lean, with an elongated face, sat at the table, crossing his fingers and laying them in front of him, looked at the florist sitting opposite.- How? No, of course I understand, we have already been reported from the group of Scalt Bo ... Three and a half billion people in one minute turned into complete idiots! Akavia is one of the leading worlds of the Commonwealth ... This is some kind of nonsense!

  * Eun,- the gray-haired florian, an CCW member, Khmro Chil, with an impatient gesture of a powerful hand, stopped his speech.- Leave Akavia alone, and we will reach her,- he looked at the crowd at the table and said.- Of the four members of the CCW brought to the heart of the matter, two are here. Any decision we make now will be approved by the absent. Let's move on to the specifics. The crash in Akavia is a subject of ongoing discussion. We are not here for this.

Skalt Bo ran a hand over his sweating face and said displeasedly:

  * Couldn't we have already gathered somewhere else? Nothing to breathe here! Like in the bathhouse!

  * This is an old bunker,- a young dawntian, a blond with a red, short mustache, the chief of space communications, shrugged his narrow shoulders.- We did not have time to prepare. All done hastily. Ventilation does not work ...

Skalt Bo wearily sighed and said:

  * It is necessary to solve now. It is not known how events will develop. If the CCW suddenly decides to use the new cruiser for other needs, then our secret society will be revealed. Despite the four members of the Council. Everything will collapse.

  * They are arresting us,- Nick Klim, a short-haired brunette with a pale scar on his left cheek, muttered sitting opposite him, a member of the Security Council. His small green eyes looked cold.- In this situation, we all face severe punishment. There are no illusions.

A total of eighteen conspirators — eleven people and seven Florians — gathered at the table.

All of them held key posts in different services. Among them were scientists.

Dicker Tal, a forty-year-old zaryanin, a member of the CCM, of strong physique, a brunette with straight, shiny hair, said dryly:

  * I think it won't come to that. We will make a decision now. Our secret community has been engaged in this business for four years, and sooner or later it will be revealed. That is not the question. A fatal blow has been dealt to the Commonwealth. So it may well be that soon there will be no one to arrest us.

  * Well, Dicker, you got excited. Death blow!-The head of space communications florian Sih Po looked at him. - Akavia, this is far from the whole Commonwealth.

  * Do you doubt it? And for example, I'm sure that we are all doomed. If we do not take decisive action. Time is running.

  * And what is there to decide?- Said Skalt Bo.- You are all familiar with the report of our Psycho-Delta group. You can't delay.

  * Scalt, - Khmro Chil frowned in his face. - Do you know what bothers me? Your self confidence. In fact, you have no direct evidence of the impact of the Object on the worlds of the Commonwealth, only speculation. And we, like the last idiots, went on about yours, put at your disposal a new Commonwealth cruiser, which you equipped and now lead to an unknown finish. And he will certainly be. Finish.

  * The finish is known,- Scalt spoke enthusiastically.- Our laboratory in the Ice Belt has been observing the Object for a long time." You know that. This is true; we still cannot register the radiation that the Object sends. We rely on the "traces" that he leaves in the studied spectrum, And believe me, in recent years, we have achieved tremendous success!

  * Besides the facts,- the director of the nuclear industry snorted, an old orian with a wrinkled face.- Nobody knows what you're trying to register there. And the cruiser is ready. I have always been against this venture.

  * Then why are you with us, Fod?- Asked him, who was sitting next to him, a florian, the chief of supply for space installation, Ush Auk.

  * Because there is a lot of indirect evidence. I do not argue with that.

  * Listen.- Speaker Tal began to get annoyed.- Leave your scientific debate for later. So we won't decide anything until morning. Two days later, a meeting of the Council will take place and the question of a new cruiser "Arrow" will be surely discussed at it. Everyone believes that it is converted for the study of Deep Space and the Ice Belt. If the Council decides to change its purpose, then we will not be able to keep our secret. The heads will be removed. Scalt, briefly describe to us your plan.

Scalt Bo began to say:

  * We have such a plan. The cruiser "Arrow", starts to the Object for its complete destruction. We believe that the Object affects the psyche of intelligent creatures and can control them. We are confident that the Object is intelligent. Further. Judging by our observations, the Object is a giant planet made up of carbon. In fact, it is a huge diamond. I have already reported on this. It is capable of generating and sending over long distances, something like signal codes. This is a kind of impact on the psyche of individuals, a kind of complex system of tests and requests for the action of those whom it irradiates. We encountered this phenomenon face to face, in the Ice Belt, six months ago. That day, out of seven tugboats in the Lagoon sector, six ships were lost. The only crew that managed to survive is the "Far" tugboat. I think that everyone here is acquainted with the report of the captain of the "Far" — Jilk Ri. And also with the reports of all the crew members of the spaceship. A few years ago, the Psycho-Delta group, collecting and analyzing data on the nature and impact of the Object, suggested the option of its destruction, which I told you. The cruiser "Arrow" starts at a fictitious course towards the Ice Belt. The official flight legend will be presented a little later. The cruiser is equipped with the gravity bomb "Clap". Its power is enough to completely destroy the Object. For this, the "Swat" is enough to explode thirty thousand kilometers from the Object. The cruiser also carries the Barrier power plant. This is the protection of the crew from the impact of the Object, and the guarantee of a successful outcome of the entire expidition. Due to the fact that the force of the explosion of the gravitational bomb will be colossal, the cruiser will take time. To go to a safe distance. The "Clap" is mounted on a nuclear-powered missile, and it will bring the bomb to the Object. The cruiser himself will be able to make a maneuver to turn around and leave the affected area. That is our plan. In principle, everything is ready. It remains only to give the cause a move. That's all.

For a minute dead silence reigned in the bunker, no one uttered a word.

Fifty-three-year-old Orianin, a thin man in a motley shirt with short sleeves and completely bald, with a sharp, beak-like nose, leaned back in his chair and reached into his pocket with his light trousers. He pulled out a tin box with a photograph of a smiling blonde on a flat lid, took a deep breath and opened the box, took out a smoking pipe - black, shabby and ugly.

His name was Enoil Kilik.

He was the curator of the construction of the cruiser "Arrow".

  * Actually, that's what I wanted to say,- he began to say, looking at the silent Scalt Bo.- Scalt, what can you tell us about the last testing of the "Barrier" installation on volunteers? What effect does your "Barrier" have on people about florian? I only ask you to speak without unnecessary scientific gibberish. In essence the question.

At the same time, Kilik brought his pipe to his sharp nose and with undisguised pleasure inhaled its smell, then climbed into a tin box for tobacco.

The light of the light panels was bright white and even, giving his face a pale and not healthy shade.

The florian Khmro Chil, who looked at him disapprovingly, did not tolerate moving his thin mustache with displeasure, snorted, and said:

  * Eno, remove this abomination. Be patient. Have a conscience. Already the whole room stank of this rubbish!

Iil Mavr said wiping sweat from his bald head:

  * In fact, it is impossible to breathe here.

Enoil nervously put the smoking pipe back in the box, and grinned said:

  * What are all tender. They will soon be taken to prison, and they wrinkle their noses from tobacco smoke.

  * Eno, and your humor too ... Croaking raven. Please continue, academician.

  * I'm not an academician.

  * It does not matter. So what do you have there with your testing?

  * Over the past three years, we have been testing.- Skalt now addressed everyone.- Personally, I think the test results are successful." Volunteers are examined and there are no grounds for alarm, personally.

  * So your Barrier is harmless?

  * How to tell you? Nothing harmless, in principle, does not exist. The impact of the installation is not critical. I can provide a report to the medical commission. And in a nutshell ... There is a mild effect on the nervous system and blood vessels, including the blood forming organs. Does this tell you anything?

  * So, there is a place to be.\- he grinned.

  * I repeat, everything is normal. There are slight deviations, but they are close to normal.

  * Close to normal...

  * Scalt, as far as you know, your Barrier never started at full capacity.- Kilik bowed his head, looked at Skalt skeptically.- What is his tested power? And the duration of work?

  * The Arrow is near Orutus, and if you give the Barrier full power, it will disrupt navigation in several sectors of planetary communication. The "Arrow" did not pass trials; for this, it must be taken away from inhabited worlds. To the Ice Belt. There it will be possible to give the "Barrier" full power.

  * How much, Scalt?

  * Five percent power. Duration is seven weeks.

  * Very weak for such brilliant confidence, Scalt. Don't you think so yourself?

  * Eno, we are not on a coffee grounds, we are guessing. There is objective research data, there is dynamics ...

  * Dynamics is good. To me with your dynamics, everything is clear. Are you sure that your Barrier will not kill the crew?

  * I'm sure.

  * That is, will they get to the Object?

  * They come back. Alive and healthy. I guarantee it. And without the "Barrier" you can immediately abandon this venture. I guarantee this too.

  * You guarantee it ...

  * I guarantee the reliability of the "Barrier"! I myself would fly with them, but age does not allow. The Strela crew included our Barrier Specialist, Loria Molly. She will do a great job with him.

  * Scalt, what about the estimated power of your bomb?- Dicker Tal asked.- Somehow, it's all very unsteady, in my opinion. Tests, of course, was not. Only calculations.

  * The explosion will be far enough from the worlds of the Commonwealth. Disturbances are possible at all radio frequencies. We also have hot heads allowing the shock wave to reach inhabited worlds.

  * And then what will happen?

  * Nothing. Strong magnetic storms in planetary atmospheres are possible, and nothing more! Not a single shock wave will reach the worlds of the Commonwealth!

They were silent for a while and Dicker asked him:

  * Scalt, are you sure that our worlds will not be scattered in all directions? All the same, you have too much confidence for your tiny facts.

  * Dicker,- Scalt Bo smiled at him with a fatherly smile.- When we blow up the Object, the cup of coffee in your hands will not even flinch.

From the opposite side of the table, the zaryanin Skil Leafs began to speak, a young man, dark-skinned, with a heavy, square lower jaw. In the Fleet Human Resources Commission, he served as first secretary:

  * The crew list remains the same? No changes?

  * No,- Scalt Bo told him.- But I have a suggestion to amend this list.

  * Whom?

  * I want to replace the captain of "Arrow".

  * Why?

  * Recommended as captain, Jilk Ri cannot take part in our expedition. He left the Navy, a report on his resignation is attached. He doesn't come in contact with us.

  * Good,- Skil shrugged.- So we need to decide on the candidacy of the "Arrow" captain. No irreplaceable captains.

  * Yes,- Iel Mavr said calmly and firmly.- In this case, there is no one to replace captain Ri. It's my opinion.

  * Iil, I understand that ...- Click began to speak, but the Moor interrupted him, and said without revealing his irritation .

  * No, you do not understand, Nick. If you want to understand this, then read the reports of the crew of the tugboat "Far". If you do not understand, then read it again.

  * Iil, don't be rude to me.

  * I tell you about the real situation, Nick. An analysis of the events in the Ice Belt unambiguously indicates the reason why the crew of the ship managed to escape. The only one from the tugboat group in that sector. Human factor. And he has a name, Jilk Ri. His behavior and perseverance stopped the impact of the Object on the crew. There are experts in the study of the Object; they will tell you better than me.

Nick Click turned to Scalt Bo and asked:

  * Scalt, is this your theory?

  * And mine too,- he answered.- But I am not so categorical in this matter as Iil. Ger Rer is engaged in studying the psi-effects of the Object,- he pointed with his hand to the blond man with a short mustache, sitting next to him.- He is the head of the O department.

Rer smiled broadly at Clic, his mustache bristling, he said:

  * This is my statement. This is not a theory. I am a practitioner, and practice is convinced only by facts.

  * And why is Jilk Ri more special than others?

  * Nothing. But he managed to reject the decisive request-code of the Object for his actions. The object is too far away; it cannot directly affect our mind. He cannot dictate a model of behavior to us. Therefore, he sends us something similar to a request-program, a series of codes, psycho-tests, and their main task is to force someone else's mind to abandon the usual model of behavior, and thereby allow this program to take control of its mind. These are the conditions of the Object program. At least we understand it that way. This is a very crude explanation, but the point is. Seven tugboats perished. "Far" remained intact. My opinion regarding Ri remains unchanged. He must lead the Arrow to the Object.

  * Moreover, he is a very successful pilot,- said Iil Mavr.- And in general. Lucky.

  * You said that he does not contact you,- Khmro Chil said suspiciously.

  * It will fly,- said Iil Moor, drumming his fingers on the smooth surface of the table.- I have one remedy.

  * Ri is broken,- said Skalt Bo.- He is no longer a pilot.

Iil Mavr in his youth, piloted heavy class "C" spaceships, and was one of the best pilots on his line. Then he was decommissioned after the crash. He was very worried, but nevertheless he found the strength in himself to "get on his feet."

To Skalt's words, he reacted as if said to his personal address.

  * A pilot always remains a pilot, Scalt. Jilk Ri will fly on the "Arrow".

  * If we now make a decision regarding the launch of the cruiser to the Object, then you will have only one day to resolve the issue with Ri. We can't wait.- Dicker Tal said.

  * Won't have to wait.

  * Good.- Dicker Tal exhaled effortfully and looked at Skalt Bo and asked.- How are things going with neutrolizers? These black suitcases are very much needed in Akavia. Almost destroyed one of our worlds. It is necessary to at least minimize the impact of the Object on us. The Commonwealth Council has appointed Yas Lo as Senior Coordinator in Akavia. He flew to Akavia three days ago. Without neutralizers, he is defenseless.

  * Yas Lo with us?- Sih Poe asked him.

  * Yes. And he is aware of Operation "Clap". You can argue for a long time about how the Object managed to deprive the Akavians of their minds, but we must protect ourselves. Scalt, how many of these devices did you send there?

  * Eight hundred pieces. Please note that our laboratory is not a factory, and our capacities are extremely small. But eight hundred neutrolisers are made and are already on their way to Akavia. In a week, the "Storm" spaceship we sent will arrive in Akavia.

  * Heh, a week, - until that moment the florian Wu Ga, the head of the dispatch service, who was silent, laughed rudely. - In a week we will all be arrested. Our little secret will be a high-profile lawsuit. My proposal is that the cruiser should start immediately. Today Tomorrow. We run the risk of losing control of "Arrow" altogether. As soon as there are suspicions in the CCW, we will all be removed from the project. Well, and then ... We must send the "Arrow" now. Then it will be too late.

  * I agree.- Dicker Tal frowned at the audience at the table.- It is possible that tomorrow our life will be no more expensive than a gnawed bone. It may well be that Dawn or Floria will follow Akavia.

Scalt Bo shook his head in disgust, said:

  * I highly doubt it, Dicker. The attack on Akavia was not accidental. This has something to do with their development of spatial movement. I mean their project "Leap", about which we actually do not really know anything. The only thing we know is the boastful statement by Ambassador Akavia to the Commonwealth Council.

  * Yes, it was a loud statement. - Dicker leaned back in his chair. - The ability to move in space, in a second of real time and almost any distance. This is a too loud statement. There is no evidence whatsoever.

  * There would be evidence, Dicker,- Scalt looked into his eyes.- If the Object had not destroyed them. I heard something about the "Leap" project. The leadership of Akavia decided to leave the Commonwealth, precisely relying on the prospects of this project. They announced the beginning of expansion into the universe, the imminent construction of spaceships that will instantly move around the galaxy. At any desired point.

  * So what?

  * With such capabilities, they could easily destroy the Object, wherever it is. Instantly! Here is the motive of his actions. Dawn does not have such technology. And further. Most likely, the Object catches our radio messages and knows what is happening in the Commonwealth. If he could strike with such force, then imagine that he is capable in the immediate vicinity! I doubt the repetition of such a blow. It is very energy consuming. And he is at a great distance from the Big Star. So the accumulation of necessary energy is slow. The object is a giant diamond, and it follows from this that it is something like a computer. This is a very bold and crude comparison, but we still have no other. He needs energy. So, given these factors, our group is confident that there will not be another similar blow. Yes, and what's the point? We consider this possibility unlikely.

  * Unlikely.- Iil Mavr squeamishly looked at his handkerchief. \- Akavia also did not expect a blow. And now there are two billion corpses and three billion idiots who are ready to become corpses very soon. Scalt, do you know the mechanism of the Object's influence on Akavia?

  * Not.

  * But you have neutrolizers,- he grinned.

  * We have neutralizers,- Scalt Bo answered calmly.- We know very little about the Object. But what we know about him is enough for some protection. Each of us has our own neutrolizer. Your black suitcase. This is a smaller copy of "Barrier", weak and working on a different principle. But very effective. And I will notice to you that it is for this reason that we are still alive and no one knows about the real purpose of "Arrow" . Although I completely agree with Wu Ga. The "Arrow" should start towards the Object immediately.

******* *******

Chapter 4.

Captain on the bridge.

The broken plastic door, squinting miserably, hung on the surviving upper hinge. In the spacious bright room where they were standing now, there was a sour stench of alcoholic fumes. Outside the large window in the center of the wall opposite the front door, it was cloudy - it was raining in the street.

Near the wall in the right corner, a round, plastic table the color of ripe cherries was lying on its side, next to it were two camping bags. It is possible that the landlord, who was sleeping quietly on the bed, did not open these bags from his first day here.

The landlord himself, in black shorts and in one green sock on his left leg, was lying across the big bed. A pillow lay on the floor, next to it. There, on the floor, with long-dried, half-eaten food, there was a lilac-colored plate, an empty glass cup and a dozen empty bottles, surrounded the bed like dull guards.

  * A catastrophe, - Au South quietly repeated, frowningly looking at the picture of a long binge that had opened to their eyes.

  * You broke the door in vain,- said a young policeman standing nearby.- He is at least a former but still a representative of the CCW.

Aaoli was silent.

She stood at the door and wrinkled her small nose with disgust.

  * And I still have not seen your documents,- the policeman said again, looking first at Au, and then looking back at Aaoli.- This is of course disgusting, he has been drinking for a long time. I recently went to him ... Hmm. Have to arrest you.

Show the wasps, "Aaoli said softly, in a low, steady voice.

Au reached into the pocket of his blue windcheater and, taking out a plastic ID, handed it to the policeman and politely said:

  * I ask you to.

For a long minute, the policeman studied Au's document, and with apparent relief he returned it back, saying:

  * Representative of CCW. Are you madam?- The policeman now looked at Aaoli.- May I have a look at your documents?

She showed him her plastic card.

Florianess did not take her cat eyes from the bed.

  * Well, well ... \- a policeman - a tall, strong guy, with a simple wide face, shrugged. - Now you tell me that a broken door is the business of the Commonwealth Council.

  * This is the business of the Commonwealth Council, officer,- said Aaoli.

  * And your stay here is determined by necessity.

  * Conditioned, officer,- said Au.

  * So it is,- the policeman took off his cap, smoothed his black hair with his palm, then put on his cap again, lowering it to his eyes.- One must think that everything will be fine here.

  * Officer, you can stay if you want,\- Au suggested to him.- Your help may be needed.

The policeman grinned not cheerfully, said:

  * I will stay, but I will not drag him.

  * We can handle it. Au open the window!

The wasp went through the whole room, opened the window and let fresh air into the room.

  * He is unlikely to go on his own, - the policeman peered doubtfully at the person lying on the bed.- Can you come tomorrow?

  * Jilk.- called Au .- No, it's a dead number. Until tomorrow he will not get up. This his divorce from his wife ... At the wrong time.

  * He will get up and walk out of here on his own feet,- said Aaoli.- Now.

And she stepped forward.

The strong and tall florianess, grabbing Jilk Ri by the arms, jerked him up and asked:

  * Where is the bathroom?

  * How do I know?

The policeman pointed at the door to the right of the window:

  * There.

Au grinned bitterly and said at the chant:

You are my sadness, longing

three glasses, two nipples ...

Aaoli:

  * Au! Wait for us in antigrave. Officer, you can go now. I will do everything myself.

Autumn South and a policeman silently left the apartment, they silently went downstairs and said goodbye, also silently.

It was raining heavily on the street.

Au South walked around the facade of the skyscraper, hurriedly walked to the site of air traffic and, passing three rows of motionless stationary airborne grabs, found his own airborne grab, opened the pilot's door and dropped raindrops on a leather chair, sat down at the helm.

He left the door open.

Somewhere behind him, on a street drowning in rain, there was a loud laugh.

He waited more than an hour.

Au thought that soon he would again fly into space, and possibly forever. However, he thought so every time before the flight to the Ice Belt.

He felt sad.

Chore at heart.

"\- And I have no one, and will never be. Only they. "

He spat in the rain.

  * You can't even get a dog,- he said the last words aloud.- And I live, worse than a dog.

Jilk and Aaoli appeared suddenly.

They opened the back doors of the avigrava, sat on the seats. Both are wet. Jilk's right cheek glowed with a fresh blush. In general, he looked relatively vigorously.

  * Hi Au.

  * Hello captain. Are we flying?

Aaoli snorted and said:

  * We are flying.

******* *******

  * You asked who I can recommend. I said.

Iil Mavr looked in the face of Jilk Ri.

  * He's not even an engineer, Jilk. He is an installer.

  * I believe this person.

Iil got up heavily from his deep armchair, left the desk and went to the window. Behind the wide glass, the day faded.

  * Good. I will inform Big so that Sol Dean is immediately sent to "Arrow". If he does not refuse.

  * He will not refuse.

  * Eh, I wouldn't refuse myself, - Iil turned to Jilk and said with a grin.- Will you take the old man to the crew?

  * I'll take.

They were silent for a moment, looking at each other.

  * Jilk. First, you will go according to the standard flight protocol. Then, at Tarega, you will change course according to a secret protocol, he is waiting for you in the on-board computer database. A day after the course change, you will give the "Barrier" full power. You will not have contact with us throughout the flight. The "Barrier" will shield you.

  * I was instructed.

He continued to speak, as if he had not heard his words:

  * If you press firmly, block the entrance to the protection sector of the cruiser. At your discretion. No matter what happens to you, Jilk. It is important to destroy the Object. If he is reasonable, there is such an assumption, then it is possible that he will want to bargain. No negotiations with him. Just destroy this creature and that's it. Your return is optional. Do you understand that? If you return, we will be happy. If you die, we will declare mourning. But the Object must be destroyed at all costs!

  * I know.

  * The entire crew will be given personal weapons. To each of you. Uh ... Keep an eye out, man. Weapons should always be with you.

Jilk said nothing.

He was sitting in a chair opposite Iel Mavr, in a new blue suit of the pilot of the Deep Fleet, his hands on his knees — neat, combed. Only a long scratch, from his right eyebrow to his nose, spoiled the favorable impression of him.

  * Did you get a box?

  * Neutrolizer? Issued.

  * Good.- Iil gently scratched his bald head, carefully and as if with fear, as if he was afraid to dig a hole in his head.- The "Arrow" will take three months to get to the Object. So, I will expect good news from you. And your return.- He smiled.

  * We will try.

  * You're a lucky guy, Jilk. You have a happy star. I put everything on your star. Whatever happens, the captain must not leave his bridge, Jilk.

Jilk smiled restrainedly, said:

  * There is such a song. "Happy Star".

  * Sing your song, boy. We are all waiting for this.

Jilk was silent for a while, looking at Iela - a smile froze on his face.

  * I will sing this song.

******* *******

  * Dispatcher. I am the "Arrow". Waiting for permission to start.

Jilk Ri said these words calmly and mundane.

He was sitting in the captain's cabin, in the pilot's deep overload seat, looking at the control panel flooded with bright light, where multi-colored indicator lights shone and three large screens with the image of the spacecraft systems "Energy", "Drive", "Position".

To his left in the same chair, Au was sitting in the navigator's orange overalls — smoothly shaved, all kind of solemn. From him came a strong smell of cologne; he reigned throughout the wheelhouse — floral, bitter.

Jilk grinned and thought:

"- For him, this is a parade."

Before Jilk, in a large, rectangular viewing screen, calm stars shone. At the bottom right, the Lazy orbital tugboat slowly crawled to the side - with a wide, flattened stern and a small sharp nose. Yellow marker lights burned brightly on its mooring stops.

"Arrow" motionlessly hung in space, waiting for a command to start.

The cruiser prepared for his first flight.

Jilk looked like "Lazy" - a heavy and clumsy ship, sparkling with flashes of shunting engines, hiding behind the bottom edge of the screen.

The dispatcher- a tall female voice, said:

  * "Arrow", I allow you to start the pre-launch countdown. Five minute readiness. Schedule five. Go on nuclear traction, marching engines do not turn on. Acceleration of the cruiser according to the established protocol. The path is clear. The track is open for you.

  * I get it,- Jilk touched the green button on the dashboard that says "Mode," then "Start." And then, on the dashboard, dozing devices came to life, small buttons flashed on the helm. - There is a five-minute readiness. The countdown has begun.

  * The energy compartment, how are you?- Hos asked.

The calm voice of Treger Sam, an energy engineer, sounded in the wheelhouse:

  * Everything is normal with us.

  * Got it. - Au looked at Jilk, said nothing.

  * The armor shields are open, - it was the voice of the florian Kzhun Usa. - Shunting engines in mode. The first reactor is in mode. The second reactor is in mode. Full-time power.

Jilk looked at the control panel, where on the small scoreboards the red numbers are running - 3.47, 3.46, 3.45, 3.44 ...

  * "Arrow". Lighthouses at heading 18.

  * The radiation background is normal.

  * All ship systems are operating normally.

  * Force field included. The screen is active. Marching engines - hang up. Travel engines in standby mode.

2.16, 2.15, 2.14, 2.13, 2.12 ...

Jilk put his hands on the helm and his fingers tightly and habitually squeezed the grooved handles.

1.58, 1.57 ...

"- A lucky star",- he thought. Looking at Au, he asked him:

  * Do you believe in the lucky star?

Au did not answer him.

  * And I believe - and for the first time in a long time, Jilk laughed sincerely and loudly, as once upon a time.

  * Captain on the bridge,- came someone's mocking voice.

Au frowned and grumbled:

  * Command the start, lucky beggar.

******* *******

Chapter 4.

They are playing.

Yas Lo stood on the platform of a high ladder, in front of the closed entrance hatch of the "Sunrise" spaceship. He was dressed in a light, white suit of biological protection and looked in front of him at the panorama that opened before him - the high blue sky above his head, illuminated by the dazzling light of the Big Star.

Closer to the horizon, the sky passed from blue light to a murky pink glow, and was diluted with rare white clouds.

The hot, still air trembled and curved the visible surface of the earth. The spaceship sat in a field overgrown with shrubs, the dust raised by its engines had already subsided and, waiting for nearby avigrv, seemed to him a white bird lying on the ground.

No one with the avigrave, no one was visible.

Almost at the very horizon, in the north of the spaceship, sparkling peaks of the skyscrapers of the capital rose - cyclopean, majestic structures pushing against each other. They rose high above the earth, and it seemed that with their tops they pierce the very foundation of heaven.

He had already seen this magnificent sight a few years ago when he flew to Akavia with a diplomatic mission. On that day, the sight of the capital inspired him with the idea of peace and prosperity.

He squinted, peering to the left of the buildings, to where the Abobbakac mountain ranges began. Some kind of gray fog covered the sky over the foothills. And there, in this fog, a giant mushroom of smoke rose. The motionless, sparkling puffs of smoke went high into the sky, and ended in a flattened, blackening from below, hat.

Yas Lo moved slowly down the ramp.

A light, airtight suit hung on him like a bag, inside a transparent, round helmet, the breeze blew weakly from the air conditioner — pleasant, cool, and the two long cylinders of the air purification filters hanging from behind him fidgeted slightly at every step.

The white material of the costume, brightly reflected the light of the Big Star.

He went down the ladder, walked a hundred steps and approached the avigrave, opened the glossy door on the passenger side, climbed into the passenger compartment and closed the door behind him.

At the helm of a avigrav, a young guy sat with the flat, rude face of a fieryodian, and behind him, on the right, was a dawntian, about the same age as Yas, short-cut haircut. They were both in biological protection suits.

Glips Kines.

  * Good afternoon,- said Yas. Greeted them.- If this day can be called good. Long time no see, Glip.

They shook hands.

  * Yes, a long time.

  * Seven years?

  * Twelve, Yas. Twelve,\- Glip had a deep, voice.- You have been getting to us for a long time. I'm here, almost lost my mind.

  * Now we go crazy together.

  * Where do you plan to start the inspection? I suggest immediately flying to the laboratory.

  * Let's go through the neighborhood first.- Yas shook his head in displeasure.- Along the way, explain to me what is going on here.

Talking with the interlocutor, listening to his words on the radio, was uncomfortable.

Yas unfastened the base of the helmet, small steel latches and removed the helmet from his head.

  * In vain, - Glyp managed to tell him.

Inside the avigrava, it was stinky.

Deadly is unbearable.

Even the smell of chlorine could not interrupt this vile stink.

Yas hastily put the helmet on his head and snapped the latches.

He was almost vomited - a disgusting stench, beating in the nose, pouring into the throat and lungs, with a nauseating wave, saturated the entire salon of the avigrava.

Air conditioning filled the suit with clean air.

But what Yas managed to breathe into himself was already absorbed into his nasopharynx and was in no hurry to leave.

  * I warned you, Yas.

  * I did not think that everything is so bad. Stupid. Let's fly north,- he gestured with his hand at the majestic column of smoke in the distance.- After that, we will examine the quarters.

  * Vers, flew!

Avigrav silently took off in the air, for a moment hovered twenty meters from the ground and, gaining speed and altitude, rushed forward.

Were it not for the helmet, Yas would have spat.

He disgustedly wrinkled his thin face and asked:

  * Now tell me. I know that your success here is very modest.

  * You know nothing. We have almost no success. Not enough hands. We have been here for two weeks now. They managed to bring equipment and dig four large burial grounds. This one, - Glyp pointed to the direction where they were flying now. - The second burial ground in the East, near the ocean, and two more in the south-west. Thirty-eight thousand people arrived in Akavia. There is still the Golden Legion with P-39. They sent us ten thousand of their chosen soldiers. P-39s want to show us their goodwill. Their gesture is certainly beautiful, and their Directory will count, but what can I do with this Golden Legion? Tell them to sweep the streets? They do not know anything, and do not understand anything in rescue operations. It's good that on the way to Akavia there are spaceships with new liquidators, but they will still be few, even if you multiply their number by ten. Even a hundred! We are not ready for this, we are not ready for such large-scale disasters. And most importantly, time is against us. Whatever we do, an outbreak will come. Diseases are not yet visible strongly, against the general background of the disaster, but they will very soon announce themselves. An epidemic will soon begin, which will kill the remaining akavians.

  * Is there any radiation?

  * At least we are okay with that, Yas. When there was no one to service thermonuclear stations and hazardous industries, protection worked. Everything that was dangerous was drowned and put out of operation. But the spaceships, liners, everything that was in the air at that moment fell. A lot has happened here, Yas. In a nutshell I won't tell. We have two main problems. It is urgent to bury the bodies of the dead and prevent those who can still be saved from dying. The first is impossible. We are doing our best, but this is too little. By the time the number of equipment and liquidators becomes sufficient, the infection will gobble up the surviving akanihs. Next ... Soon they will begin to die of starvation. They do not remember anything. They lost all acquired skills, absolutely everything! We tried to drop them food briquettes, but they do not know what it is. They don't even understand that the packaging can be opened with your teeth. Wild animals are smarter than them. But they are learning. It is enough to show them how to open a food briquette, and show food. But we physically cannot train them all.Even every tenth of them. They are doomed to death. This is a verdict. Most of them will die. In these warm latitudes people can still live, but to the north of here, where the air temperature is lower, a billion people died! And this is a preliminary calculation. These are the things we have, in a nutshell, Yas.

Yas Lo was silent.

He looked through the window at the approaching giant column of smoke.

  * Do you collect people in closed areas? Is everything alright there, Glip? Or also? ...

  * Also, Yas. Also. Akayans are kept in special paddocks. We bring them water and food, try to maintain order as much as possible. But they are dying. They die anyway. Injuries, infections. And they will die, because it is impossible to create safe housing for millions of people, deprived of all skills and speech! This is not a matter of a few days. This is a matter of many years, but we do not have these "years." We don't have anything at all. And here's another problem,- Glip paused and added.- Florians.

  * What, florians?- Yas turned his head in his direction.

  * Cases of the murder of the akavians were noticed ...- he abruptly fell silent, looked into the sky covered with smoke.

  * Do not tremble.

Glip Kines suddenly burst into flames, trying not to look into Yas's eyes, he almost screamed:

  * They prey on them! This is known for certain. There are already fourteen such cases. The nature of the damage to the bodies indicates the claws and fangs of the florians! Do you understand what that means? It means that...

  * Who is investigating?

  * My assistant with a group from the Order Department. There are only people in this group. We did not inform our florian colleagues.

  * Why?

  * This just can't be explained right away, Yas. I understand that you are a diplomat, negotiating, sitting in the CCW ... But from your chair, you can't see what is visible from here.

  * Did you find the culprits?

  * No,- Glip thought, before continuing to speak. - This is a mass phenomenon. I think the bodies found were simply poorly hidden. The bodies were discovered - dawnians, azurens, rhizolians ... They were discovered by people. Not florians. There are much more of them in Akavia than there are people. And there are areas where only Florians work. What is going on there, I do not know yet. Of course I have reports from their management ... Yas, listen to me. Here, everything did not go as we expected. My opinion is that it is urgent to curtail all the activities of the Commonwealth in Akavia. Otherwise, the Commonwealth will cease to exist. He will not be.

And Glip was silent.

Yas turned away and looked at the approaching column of smoke.

He silently thought over what he heard from Glip, listened to his feelings, as if he was looking at images that were not yet clear, tried to unravel their intentions, to hear unspoken words.

  * Nothing should hurt the Commonwealth, Glip. That's why I flew here, - he tried to give his words a figurative image. - We will put out this fire.

The skyscrapers of the distant city remained on the left - they stuck out like sparkling spears, thrown up.

Avigrave was approaching the burial ground.

With the heights of two kilometers it was already possible to discern the scale and details of what this burial ground was.

The giant pit dug in the rocky soil of the foothills was about a kilometer wide and stretched for three kilometers along the yellow-red plain. Along the edges of the pit were piled high earthen embankments dug by two huge excavators, motionlessly frozen now against each other, at the very bottom of this monstrous pit, about three hundred meters from the surface.

The dazzling glimpses of the Big Star flashed on the convex sides of these excavators and went out in rolling clouds of gray and black smoke, shone through, and trembling in small ripples. At the bottom of the pit everything was covered in smoke, even the giant excavators were drowning in it.

And from the middle of the burial ground, like a growing tree, a giant column of smoke grew and went high into the sky. Over the burial ground, trying not to get into the smoky pillar, cargo avigraves circled like big black beetles. Keeping at a safe distance from the smoke, they dived towards the center of the pit, dropped their cargo from a kilometer high and made a sharp maneuver to the side, went away, gaining speed.

Dozens of flying cars dumped their cargo, dumped, dumped ... Like piles of black rags, their load fell, flew down, hid in smoke, from which orange fire occasionally broke out.

Some avigraves, opening their cargo hatches on the fly, threw black cylinders into the pit, and when they fell and still did not hide in that terrible pit, they flashed brightly and exploded, turning into huge fiery umbrellas, spilled in fiery rain.

  * We bury up to a million corpses a day here,- Glip's voice seemed detached.- That's not enough. We almost cleared the capital, but ... By the time the burial grounds are full, the infection will devour the survivors. Yas, the Commonwealth is not prepared for such disasters. We are physically unable to provide the equipment and hands for the salvation of these people. We will not stop their extinction.

Yas Lo silently looked towards the foundation pit.

Their avigrae banked maneuvering to the right.

  * I'm glad that it was you who was sent here. Now, Yas, this is your headache,- he took a deep breath.- Forecasters promised, after lunch, a northwest wind. So the wind will blow all this stink from us. In the town...

Yas looked at the black shapeless heaps, which from far away resembled ordinary garbage, looked at what was once humans.

Akavia, proud and powerful, she was now burned in the foundation pits - dead.

He looked and it seemed to him as if somewhere on the verge of perception, the long-forgotten beat of the Gumri drums sounds, sounds and grows in all its might, triumphing the death march.

Gumri Drums.

There is a tradition on the planet Gumri, a relic of ancient times. They say goodbye to the old, before creating a new one. Having already become a developed and enlightened world, they beat the drums before demolishing an old building and sing a farewell song:

You have served us for a long time.

And the drums beat, beat ...

Beat ...

Their energetic, tireless fraction pulsates in the air.

To part, to part ...

It seemed to him that these sounds were not a ghost of the past, but the real sound of drumming.

He looked at the majestic pillar of fire and smoke, at the cargo avigraves swarming around him, at the falling, dead, superfluous, and dangerous.

And the drums beat incessantly, solemnly, promised death.

It seemed to him that someone weaved a web around this world, and then stuck his poisonous sting into it.

Spider.

Yes, this is a spider.

For a long time and diligently, with knowledge of his craft, he weaved a light and gray web, and having waited for the victim to get entangled in it, when it would clog, trying to break free, he dealt her a mortal blow.

The victim still continues to fight, but a funeral cocoon is already folding around her and the winner's dance begins. And on his trembling, lint-covered paws, moisture glistens. Black moisture on a gray background.

Black on gray.

That's right - a gray background and black moisture ...

Tum, tum, tum ...

Drums beat their rhythm of spider dance ...

Was did not like spiders.

They were always disgusting to him.

Black on gray ...

  * Yas, can you hear me?

  * What?- He looked at Glip, often blinking as if waking up.

  * I said that it's better to explore the city than to circle here. You've been looking at this for an hour.

  * Hour?

  * Are you okay?

  * Yes, I'm fine,- Yas Lo looked again at the pit.- Let's fly to the city. Hm. Glip. Have you ever heard Gumri drums?

******* *******

The gentle wind brought with it neither coolness nor freshness.

The stench stood, unbearable. Although it became a little easier to breathe, the stench of carrion did not let one forget about itself even for a minute.

Their avigrav stood now on a wide asphalt platform, next to a skyscraper sparkling with large glass, and a wide avenue, deserted and quiet, stretched right in front of them. Like a night

Even the birds were not visible here. A smelly wind played on the avenue, carried away pieces of paper and a trifle towards the intersection.

Avigrave stood in the thick shadow of a skyscraper and three people took off their helmets and sat in the cabin, looking towards the nearest intersection, where another avenue began behind a narrow alley.

The transparent doors of the Avigrava were wide open.

  * Soon they will appear,- said the pilot.- They are not far from here.

  * They are being led towards the third settlement,- said Glip.- If it can be called a settlement.

Flying over these neighborhoods, Yas Lo noticed from a height of flight, a column of people.

A column of people moved in this direction, and he ordered the pilot to land avigrav.

The pilot got out of his seat, walked next to the Avigrava, stretching his stiff legs, then stopped, leaning against the flat roof of the Avigrava.

Everyone was silent.

Turbid and yellow clouds of dust carried by the wind swirled over the highway crossing avenue.

Near a domed building with tinted windows, a stray dog ran.

A few minutes later, because of the thick alley that was in front of the intersection, three figures jumped out — tall's, strong's, with long sticks of electric dischargers in their hands. They were wearing white suits of biological protection. Their transparent helmets were removed and fastened to their belts, like tourist bowlers.

These were the florians.

They jumped to the intersection and stopped near the edge of the road, talking about something among themselves.

And soon the sound of an approaching column appeared.

The noise of thousands of feet hurrying, running along the avenue, and the growing whine of incomprehensible voices so far's.

The column appeared immediately - crowded, vociferous, noisy.

People did not go.

They were persecuted.

Hundreds and hundreds of people, men and women, in a dense crowd, like a herd of wild animals, ran pushing each other, and not many florians drove them along the avenue. The air was immediately filled with screams and the stamping of feet, and all this merged into one continuous, screaming and shuffling sound, spreading between the shining facades of buildings, tangled in the crowns of calm trees. The running column turned to the left, swept along the asphalt towards the autobahn — naked, dirty, screaming people, they ran pushing behind and looked at the florian in animal horror.

The florians ran along the sides of the column, shouting something, throwing up sticks of arrester, threatening, warning, and people seeing them, rushing in front, not jumping out of the total mass of those running, screeched when one of them was overtaken by an electric discharge.

Yas Lo motionlessly froze.

Some rhythmic sound came to him from the side of the running people and he tried to listen and determine it from the general noise, but so far he could not distinguish it.

The column quickly grew in front of him. Thousands of bare feet knocked from the asphalt a sound similar to the sound of heavy rain. Screams and screeches merged together and hung over their heads. The air trembled with meaningless voices. He stared motionlessly at the picture of wild flight before him.

And there was something strange in what he saw, as if something was missing, and only then he realized what it was.

Children.

There were no children in the convoy.

No one.

He saw teenagers, young boys and girls, men and women, but no one held a child in his arms.

Foot noise and screams.

Now Yas distinguished the sound that caught his attention. These were shouts florian rhythmic, deaf, loud:

  * Noob, noob, noob, noob ...

They drove people the way they drove herds of noobs on Floria.

  * Noob, noob ...

Here is one of the runners, a bearded, naked man, stumbled and fell, trying to get to his feet, and he stared in panic at the approaching florianin, and screeched.

  * Noob.

Impact discharger - strong, fast.

The man screamed, jumped up, and rushed to run, grabbing someone's hands. Blood flowed down his thigh.

  * Noob, noob ...

The florians either did not notice the people sitting on the Avigrave, or they were not interesting to them.

The tail of the column pulled into the avenue.

  * They play,- said Yas softly.

  * What?

  * This is a game.

  * We must intervene, Yas!

  * It's too late to intervene, - and after a pause he added.- We need to examine the Institute of Space.- Everything else is no longer important.

******* *******

Chapter 5.

Space Institute.

The pilot landed abligrating on a flat platform a hundred meters from the main entrance to the squat, four-story building, composed of polished white blocks, with narrow, high windows.

The building of the Space Institute is large and bulky, the roof was crowned with a blue dome, and the main entrance was protected by a massive concrete canopy resting on ten round pillars.

A high marble staircase led to the entrance to the Institute, once shining with purity, but now bearing the traces of general desolation and chaos. Here and there, scraps of paper lay, shapeless rags that once served people as clothes, and dirty spots on marble steps.

In some places the marble was broken.

The staircase to the Space Institute was guarded by two dozen florians, armed with electric arresters. They stood above and below the stairs. About a hundred more florians in white biosecurity suits lined up on the driveway and around the avigrava site.

The Big Star flooded the whole world with its hot light.

In the air there was a suffocating smell of carrion and chlorine.

Time has passed at noon.

Leaving the pilot in the avigrave, Yas Lo and Glip Kines got out of the cabin and leisurely headed along the asphalt path towards the main entrance to the building.

None of the florians had helmets.

People also took off their helmets and carried them in their hands.

Somewhere far in the south, beyond the neighboring quarter, an alarm siren shrieked piercingly.

  * They're coming to us,- Glip said quietly.- Last time they didn't let me in here.

One of the Florian guards was already walking in their direction. Two more began to descend the stairs.

Going almost close, the florian blocked the way for people, and in a calm voice said:

  * This is a restricted area. Return to your avigrave.

  * I am Glip Kines, Head of the liquidation mission in Akavia.

For a short time, uncertainty flashed in the green eyes of the florianin, but he firmly declared:

  * You came in vain, Glip Kines. Without special permission from the Commonwealth Council.

  * And who gave such an order?- Yas Lo asked coldly.

The florian looked at him grimly, said:

  * And who are you to report to you? Return to Avigrave and leave the area.

  * I, Yas Lo, emergency representative of the Commonwealth Council in Akavia, with powers of the seventh category. It is unlikely that you will find a boss more than me. And you did not introduce yourself.

The Florian thought and reluctantly answered him:

  * My name is Krhoan Korshan. I am in charge of the Space Security Institute.

  * Krhoan, are you blocking our entrance to the Institute?

He did not answer.

  * I want to inspect their lab.

Two florians came up to them and stood in three steps.

The florian hesitated with an answer, he was deciding something.

  * Well, come with me,- he said with difficulty hiding his displeasure.

And he led people to the main entrance to the building.

While they climbed the marble stairs, no one uttered a single word.

Above the entrance to the Institute of Space was an inscription of golden letters written in the Akavian language:

"Only we".

In the deep lobby, everything was designed in a minimalist style, it seemed that in this solemn institution there was no place for idleness and entertainment. Square, gray columns led along the entire lobby.

A couple of low tables, a few plastic gray chairs, that was all there was.

  * It seems like that. That they really liked everything gray,- the florianian threw with a grin.

At the end of the lobby were two flights of stairs leading to the upper floors, and two elevator shafts. The Florian pressed the red button to call the elevator, and two minutes later they were riding in a light beige cabin, down.

  * The laboratory is underground, at a depth of forty-eight meters,- Krhoan spoke, looking at Yas.- They arranged it on a grand scale.

Not much time passed and they left the elevator.

Krhoan said:

  * I won't go there. Come, they will meet you there.

The elevator doors quietly closed and the cab went up.

They were met.

Four florians in blue overalls were already standing in the distance, under the low, white ceiling of a narrow corridor. Light panels mounted at the top of the walls poured a bright light.

People approached the florians.

  * Come with me,- the elderly florian, with gray hair on his narrow chin, invited them with a gesture of his hand.- Honestly, I did not expect that they would send you, Yas.

  * Good afternoon, Rohsch,- said Yas Lo.- The representative of Floria on the Council of the Commonwealth, an unexpected figure here.

With Glip, Rokhsch did not say hello.

  * I am always where I should be.- Rohsch walked ahead of their entire group.

Three florians closed the procession.

  * Your visit here, Yas, will not change anything. Florians must take the place reserved for them by fate. We value the merits of the Dawn in front of our people, and will gladly share with you what we have.

"Share with you."

The corridor brought them to the laboratory of the Space Institute.

Actually, it was more like a huge hangar. Brightly illuminated by spotlights mounted under a vaulted ceiling, the laboratory stretched three hundred meters and had a width of at least one hundred meters. The first thing that caught his eye was the spaceship. He stood on a farm overpass.

And there was a round opening in the wall, right in front of the flyover, like a subway tunnel. In the opening, something flickered blue, sparkling.

A double spaceship of the Scout class was no more than seventy meters in length. His sharp nose, with swollen, polished sides, was directed into the tunnel. In the round windows of the head compartment the light was on, the side lights were on. A tall, green gangway and service farms were attached to the spaceship, and bundles of thick, black cables of electrical voltage ran along the walls. Numerous equipment seemed to be randomly placed on both sides of the hangar.

About a hundred florians in blue, white and orange overalls sat at control panels or worked on a flyover. A lot of florians were near the wall failure.

Yas Lo stopped, looking at the picture that opened to his gaze.

  * Is it impressive?- Rohsch grinned, his thin mustache trembled.- Our experts will show you what you are doing ... But let's go.

He led them through the entire hangar, past the flyover with a spaceship frozen on it, under the intense gaze of the florians surrounding them. Handsfree commands were sometimes given in Florian and a soft hum of voices and invisible cars was heard. Before reaching the opening of the tunnel about twenty meters, a bright red strip was drawn on the concrete floor and sections of the fence stood on it. To the left of the tunnel were bulky control panels and florians operators sat behind them.

They stopped nearby.

They were approached by two-middle-aged florian in white overall, and a young florianess in glasses and orange overalls.

Yas stood away from the tunnel. He stood away from the tunnel and could not see what was shining in it.

  * These are our astrophysicists - Cro Schkan and Yumoy Uz, - Krhoan introduced the approaching florians to them. - Yas Lo from the Council and Glip Kines. He is the chief of mission in Akavia.

They greeted each other.

  * What is it?- Yas asked them, pointing to the tunnel.

  * There ... - Cro Schkan smiled restrainedly. - There is another galaxy.

People silently waited for clarification.

Yas Lo took a few steps to the side, walked around the Florian sitting at the control panel, and looked into the depths of the tunnel.

There, about two hundred meters from the round entrance, as if on the screen of a large TV, two bright stars were burning. One star was pale blue, and the second yellow. The stars seemed very close, radiant and were dazzlingly bright, and behind them spread out in the blackness of space, a blurry spot of a huge nebula, strewn with small sparks of stars. The lower edge of the nebula glowed with blue light, the upper green. Different sized stars burned in this giant cloud of hydrogen, illuminating it from the inside.

Yas looked motionless in front of him.

From there, from such near infinity. Someone invisible, omnipotent and ancient like these stars was looking at him, looking at the very essence of Yas and making some unknown but formidable decisions ...

Cro Scan already stood next to Yas Lo and said:

Awesome! This is a system of instant movement in space. They called her the "Portal." Here is the Blot Nebula. And you see her in real time, Yas! This is not antigrav or fusion. This is a window into the universe, at any point. We are already able to reach the expanses of our galaxy, visit other galaxies, star clusters, send ships as far as we have enough imagination!

Yas listened silently to him.

  * The Akavians conducted a series of experiments, they sent eighteen spaceships there,- Cro pointed with his hand into the tunnel.- And four of them returned. We are currently studying their materials and the management of this system, but soon, very soon, Yas, we will send our ship to this nebula!

Yas listened to him.

There are months left before our large-scale expansion into the universe! We will master the best worlds! We will go beyond the known! ...

Yas listened to Gumri's drums.

"- Bye Bye! You have served us for a long time ... "

  * ... It's all over with Akavia. But this is the beginning of New Floria! This is our new hope! ...

"\- Boom, boom, boom ... You will be destroyed, to the foundation, forever! Boom Boom Boom..."

  * And we will not forget the good that the charge showed us. We will share with you our new features ...

"-The day of your death!" Your day has come! Boom, boom, boom ... Now! Now!..."

Was Law said:

  * This is not your world, Cro. And this world is already occupied, - he was inseparably looking at the starfire in the tunnel and his voice was dry and even. - Floria will be evacuated in due time. But Akavia has its own population.

  * Population of noobs?- He exclaimed, and laughed hoarsely.- Don't tell me, Yas. They will never become people like you. They had never been before. Pompous snobs. They are just cattle. And that is their own fault. But a world filled with cattle should not be empty!

  * They are people.

Cro Scan stopped short for a couple of seconds, then spoke, approaching Yas:

  * My people are in danger. We all face death from the return of the Object. I repeat, the Florians are deeply grateful to you for the efforts that you are making in the construction of the Transport, but we are tired of the humiliating position of the "younger brothers", and if necessary, we ...

  * What then?- Yas Lo looked away from the tunnel and looked into the furry face of the florian.

From the bright, white light of the spotlights, the florianin's gray hair seemed to glow and his green eyes were wide open, they looked hostile.

  * A day later, in the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds, our representative, Fuh Maul, will announce the proposal of my people for the settlement of Akavia, as the only and necessary measure in our situation. He will declare the colonization of Akavia by the florians.

  * The Akavians are not cattle, Cro. We do not know the cause of the disaster that killed them, but they are not cattle. They forgot all their skills and knowledge, but retained the ability to learn. They are the owners of this world and it is our duty to help them.

  * Is it not their representative six months ago who shouted in the Council that Akavia was ready to leave the Commonwealth, that they did not want to serve our motto "helping others, you will help yourself"? Weren't they mocking Dawn's efforts to help my people? And didn't they put forward a new motto "each for himself"?

  * We will teach them how to live in a new way, Cro. They are human beings and must become human beings.

  * These are just beautiful words - people! You look at them. They cannot control their desires. They copulate right on the street like wild animals. They fight for food, gnawing at each other's throats! They are not people. They are a herd of noobs, and do not deserve sympathy. And to be honest, the Akavians were never human, Yas. For florians, only the dawnians are humans. And do not break this attitude towards you, do not need this stupid and empty stubbornness. No need to help the beast!

  * You put all the people out of this lab, Cro. What for?

He was momentarily embarrassed by his face, but spoke again, as before, resolutely:

  * We will share their developments with you, Wass. Just do not bother us! Imagine how much we can achieve together with such opportunities! Our two peoples spread throughout the galaxy, we will populate a great many worlds! ...

"-" The portal was turned on and Akavia died, "thought Wass, almost not listening to the florian. "- They turn it on again, and then we all die. The catastrophe and the "Portal" are links of one chain. "

  * Well,- the florian even smiled at him.- We agree to commit ourselves to those Akavians who will survive! " We will take guidance over them and ensure their safe existence ...

  * A safe existence,- Yas echoed.

  * This is the only and reasonable decision in the circumstances, Yas.

  * Cro Shkan, on behalf of the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds, I officially declare to you that the Worlds are in mortal danger! - Yas Lo looked directly at the florian and spoke calmly, without emotion, he spoke the words as if driving in nails. - Using the right given to me by the Council, I command you to withdraw from the Institute of Space, all florians. Immediately. The Institute itself and the "Portal", as well as all existing documents relating to this project, must be destroyed!

The florianin's fur-covered face froze.

  * It is possible that we will have to evacuate all liquidators from Akavia, but this issue has not yet been resolved. The institute should be destroyed immediately!

  * I believe that you demand from us the impossible.

  * In my face, this is what the Council of the Commonwealth of Worlds requires of you. Follow the order.

The Florian smiled softly and said:

  * I do not see the Council in front of me. Before me is only one crazy old man.

Glip intervened in the conversation:

  * Listen to me, Cro. Do not forget. You are facing two of your immediate bosses on the planet. Follow the order.

  * Two fools are standing in front of me,- the florian laughed.- And it would be ridiculous to count on me becoming a fool, too.- He turned left and shouted.- Security!

Seconds later, two dozen armed florians, without helmets, dressed in white biosecurity suits surrounded Vas Law and Glip Kines.

  * These two,- Cro ordered.- Withdraw from the Institute and track their departure. And do not let anyone else in here. Do it!

******* *******

Golden Legion, Een Fa quietly repeated with bitterness in his voice.

He recently turned twenty years old, he was of medium height, a thin guy, with a short haircut, pitch black hair. His pale face had already sunbathed under the rays of the Big Star, and specks of freckles appeared on his nose and under his eyes.

Putting aside his camping bowler, with half-eaten pearl barley porridge, Eeng wrinkled his nose squeamishly. Two thousand people gathered on this square like him. Having removed their biosecurity suits, they dumped them in one big pile at the intersection, where the huge shop building glittered with glass windows, and helmets were lying there, next to the suits, scattered and forgotten. Een was barefoot. His army, heavy boots, tied with shoelaces, as it should have been, stood next to him. A yellow, faded tunic and trousers hung on it like rags. He looked at the dirty fingers of his feet, then at the aluminum mug that he held in his hand, threw it into the bowler and said to Ggor sitting next to him:

  * We were sent here to save people, but in fact, for the fourth day now we have been sitting here on this square.

  * Do you want to drag corpses again?- Ggor Au ate energetically from his pot.

Ggor was three years older than Een, with a short, white scar under his left eye. His fair hair, shaved while still at home, had already begun to grow back.

They were friends with him.

Ever since boarding school.

Ean lowered his voice, spoke so that no one except Ggor would hear him:

  * Ddas said he saw two florians eating a man. It was on the second day of our arrival here. By the river. Well, remember where it burned ...

Ggor stopped eating, looked at Een seriously and said just as quietly:

  * I'll smash Ddas's face so that he doesn't talk nonsense. Look, don't blurt out something like that. If the captain hears ...

  * He talked about it seriously!

  * Ddas yap and a fool! You were told that the florians are our brothers, so it is. And the point! Listen to all sorts of Mo.

  * We ourselves are sitting here like Mo.

  * Mo- dicars and cannibals, Een. And we are rescuers. Golden Legion. And if in order for our world to be returned the name, you need to hang around here, then I will hang around here until old age and rejoice. And still, I'll smash the face of this fool, Ddas. I will definitely do it!

  * Am I opposed to hanging around here?- Een took a deep breath and looked to the right, where the Guards of the Golden Legion laughed loudly at the high, idle fountain.- How can you eat this?

  * What?

  * It stinks like in Mo's cave!

  * Heh, it stinks! - and Ggor laughed out loud .- How sensitive you are. Here on the outskirts of the city, it stank. And here ... It smells a bit. Let's eat your porridge, otherwise you barely move your legs.

They were silent for a while.

Ggor began to eat his porridge from the pot again, and Een squinted at the light of the Big Star and looked at the large area filled with the Directory guards. The hot air above the square trembled and stank, the soldiers threw off their tunics, suffered from heat and idleness, they played cards, wallowing in the dust and listened to the empty chatter of their comrades.

Somewhere on the edge of the square, near a large glass flower, swearing and noise spread across the square. Probably got into a fight again.

Een saw a florianin sitting in the shade of a tree.

There passed an invisible border, beyond which the guards from P-39 could not cross.

In the air, despite the rising wind, there was a stench falling.

Een thought that he had already begun to get used to this stench and that from these thoughts he felt even worse.

  * Do you think the Commonwealth will help us now?- He asked Ggor.

  * It will help,- he looked into his empty pot, licked a spoon and put it in his pants pocket, smiled.- Captain, what did he say? You heard?

  * I heard.

  * There you go. Why then ask?- Ggor lay on his back, put his hands under his head and closed his eyes. The hair on his chest glistened with sweat. - We help the Commonwealth ourselves, as a gesture of goodwill. And they are now discussing a plan to save our world. They will send us large ships with grub and seeds, they will bring all equipment. We will live well! Maybe soon we will clear the Mo Valley from Mo. We will begin to sow seeds. Don't worry, they will tell us what to do. There are no fools in the Directory. Just like that, we would not be sent here. So, relax and don't listen to fools. Maybe in a couple of months our world will be named! Our world will have a name, not this filthy number ...

  * I say that they could send us to escort the akavians.

  * Do you need this? Do you want to babysit them? They are trying to turn them into people again. Imagine that one such local idiot will attack you, and you will destroy him on the head. The scandal will turn out. Rest and don't think. This is still better than ours, in the Abandoned city.

At the mention of the abandoned city, Eeng felt inside his stomach everything was tight and cold.

Abandoned city.

It was still at home.

They were sent there to return the missing seed collectors.

They sent two companies.

Only seven people returned from there.

Sergeant Kkor's company remained lying there in a stuffy and humid night. They never found the head of Sergeant Kkor.

Een remembered how he and Ggor had chopped Mo with their sabers when they ran out of ammunition and their guns were thrown into the dirt under their feet. Crowds of Mo rushed at them with screeching, terrifying and wild, they fell into the greasy mud and continued to crawl. The dying Mo pulled their bloodied hands to the guards.

And Een and Ggor silently chopped down the screaming Mo, and their punches with a splashing sound found their target. And the taste of blood was diluted with raindrops.

The dead, dark quarters of the Abandoned city, looked at them with black holes of windows, waited for the fresh meat of the guardsmen to be carried into their black womb ...

  * He flinched.Ghor.

  * What do you want?

  * Can we see the time when we don't have Mo at all? Not a single Mo. And in our fields rye will grow. And it will not be necessary to guard the wall around the capital.

  * We will see. We will definitely see. It would be better, Een, if you would often visit the women's battalion. You have a good girl. Your Yayata. They will steal your Yayat from you. Then you will smear the snot on the fist.

  * She's not like that,- Een sighed, looked around, then said thoughtfully.- Yata and I are serious. We have already decided ...

Ggor sharply sat up, and put his hands on his knees:

  * Let's go to the store. Something in my stomach is rumbling. And the place there is gorgeous.- Ggor laughed out loud and reverberatingly and clapped Ean on the back with his hand.- Let's go the thinker ... Thinkers should also crap.

For a moment they were covered by a shadow, the Big Star blinked.

At the same time they looked up and saw a white, wingless avigrave, with a flat bottom. He flew ten meters above their heads — silent, like a bird floating in the air. Flashed the windows of the cab.

Avigrave sharply slowed its flight, hovering over an empty section of a wide avenue and smoothly sank down onto hot asphalt.

  * We have guests,- Ggor said curiously.

Ean silently looked at the Avigra, from which a tall and thin man in a white biosecurity suit got out.

There was no glass helmet on his head.

******* *******

  * Captain Kkman Hu, Golden Legion, P-39, - the captain stood in front of him, stretched out like a string, his summer, crumpled uniform, faded, turning from yellow to beige rag.

There was no cap on his head.

Yas Lo looked into his full, unshaven face, and could not find the words to speak with him. But the purpose of the upcoming conversation was clear to him.

A feeling took hold of him, which he might call "active anxiety."

Active concern.This concern visited him there, at the Institute of Space, frightening with its clear meaning and inevitability. For the first time in his life, Was agreed with what he carried within himself, this formidable feeling - a sharp and decisive decision-making, the consequences of which he could not foresee.

But having made a decision, he could no longer refuse it.

  * Yas Lo,- he introduced himself.- Special Representative of the CCW. Through me, the whole Council speaks to you.

  * I understood.

  * Glip Kines,- Glip introduced himself dryly.

  * Are you in charge here?

  * Yes, Mr. Representative!

  * How many people do you have subordinate?

  * One thousand nine hundred and five guards!

  * And you are the captain?

  * Major Ffauh Yo fell ill and was taken away from Akavia yesterday. He is now in an orbital hospital.

  * Good,- Yas was silent for a moment, listening to his thoughts and feelings.- What are you doing here, Captain?

  * The florian leadership determined our place in this square. Here ... Resting.

  * Do they hold you here? Are you under arrest?

  * I would not say that we are arrested, Mr. Representative ... We are shown the boundaries within which we should be. Food and water are brought to us regularly, the treatment with us is friendly.- Captain Kkman looked directly into Yas's eyes.

"Forty years old, no more",- thought Yas Law about him. "- Servant."

  * What I'll tell you about now will require courage and determination, captain. You can refuse or agree. But I need an answer immediately!

  * I'm listening to you, Mr. Representative.

Gumri's drums beat louder, their rumble as if with a whip drove Yas's decisions.

"\- Your walls will fall, fall, fall ... Boom, boom ... The earth will cover your stones ...!"

  * You volunteered to help the Commonwealth at its difficult hour. This is our overall strength test. Your desire to help us was voluntary and we greatly appreciate it. The Commonwealth will help your world. You can be sure of that, Captain.

The captain nodded in response, continued to listen silently.

  * Akavia was destroyed by an experiment of scientists. It's long to explain. But it is so. And now everything can be repeated, but this time on a large scale. All worlds of the Big Star are at stake, captain. This threat is fatal, and we must act decisively. Are you ready, captain, for decisive action? For the sake of your world and the worlds of the Commonwealth?

  * My people and I are ready, Mr. Representative!

  * The Space Institute building was captured by a bunch of dangerous adventurers. They themselves will not leave from there.

  * We will do everything.

  * This is florians, captain.

The captain silently considered the words of Yas, on his face was read the doubt that arose.

  * This is a conflict, Mr. Representative. I do not have authority from our Directory to conduct hostilities.

  * Forget about your Directory, Captain! Here everything is decided only by my word!

  * I need to give a request for the P-39.

  * We don't have time for this. Or do you want your world to die? You will no longer have a second such opportunity, captain. Either we destroy the Institute, or we perish ourselves. All.

The captain was silent.

From the look of his gray eyes, it was impossible to understand what decision he was ready to make now.

  * Good, captain. Forget about our conversation. Sit here. I hope you are well fed.

Yas Lo turned away and headed for the avigrava standing on the avenue.

Glip Kines followed him.

  * I agree, Mr. Representative!

Yas and Glip stopped, looked at Captain Kkman.

  * We will do everything necessary for the Commonwealth.

Yas went up to him and calmly said:

  * Get your people in order, captain. Stay calm, do not make noise. I'll be back.

  * We are without weapons. There are not even arresters.

  * I will take care of this myself.

******* *******

Chapter 6.

Blood and marble.

Avigrave quickly drove them to the ship.

The spaceship sparkled in the rays of the Big Star tending to sunset, the wind carried dusty whirlwinds along the plain.

Leaving Glip in the avigrave with the pilot, Yas Lo climbed the ramp and entered the hatch of the ship. Behind the lock chamber he was met by the assistant captain Rain Loud.

  * Rain, I need your help. Contact the Stubborn. At encrypted radio frequency.

  * I will order.

They walked to the elevator platform, reached the fifth tier by elevator, and, leaving the engineering compartment, headed for the communications cabin.

Yas was silent.

The lighting in the corridor was turned off - the Big Star was pouring its light brightly through the large portholes. They entered the cabin of the radio cabin, where a bored communications officer, a young florian in the green uniform of the diplomatic fleet, sat in a chair.

Haro, set up a secret connection with the cruiser "Stubborn".

  * I'm listening,- the florian performed several manipulations on the communication panel, a large screen flashed on the wall and an inscription appeared ," closed frequency, encrypted ".

  * Everything is ready, "the officer rose from his chair, giving way to Yas.

  * You are free.

Having waited for both officers to leave the compartment and the hatch behind them would close, Yas pressed the green "send-receive" button and the screen in front of him came to life.

The face of the communications officer from the cruiser "Stubborn" appeared on the screen.

Says a representative of the CCM, Yas Lo. Call Captain Simugle Un.

I obey.

Yas waited three minutes.

Then a fifty-year-old face appeared on the screen. It was the captain of the cruiser.

  * Hello Simugl.

  * Good afternoon, Yas Lo. We have not seen each other for a long time,- and he smiled with restraint.

  * Yes. Unfortunately, the reason for our meeting is not joyful. Keep our conversation completely private, Captain. No one should know what we are going to talk about.

He gave the necessary orders, looked somewhere to the side, then turned to the screen and said:

  * No one hears us, Yas. What happened to you?

  * The situation is critical, Sim. We are on the verge of the death of the Commonwealth. And I need your help. You know my authority.

  * Yes. How can I help?

  * At first. Isolate all florian crew. I understand that this sounds wild, but it is extremely necessary to do this. Until further decisions, none of them should move freely along the cruiser. No exceptions!

  * My second mate ...

  * Sim, I said that there are no exceptions for anyone. I don't know how you will do it, but this is a necessary measure now. You zaryadin, they will listen to you.

Yas paused, awaiting an answer.

  * Alright, Yas. What else?

  * What infantry weapons do you have?

  * Pulse rifles and automatic carbines. There are also...

  * That's enough, Sim. I hope you haven't rusted them yet.

  * My household is always in perfect order, Yas. If a weapon has never fired, this does not mean that it has turned into trash.

  * I need you to send two thousand carbines with a cargo shuttle as soon as possible. Two more seismic bombs will be required. Enough.

  * Yas, are you going to war?

  * I am going to save the Commonwealth.

  * Do not you think that this is too much?

  * We have no time, Sim. Do you want to re-learn to hold a spoon in your hands and write in the toilet?

The cruiser captain silently looked at Was Law.

He was silent for a minute.

  * Is everything so bad?

  * Sim. It will be good if there are those who will train you. And I strongly doubt it.

  * I need time.

  * Alright Sim.

  * I'll get in touch when I do everything.

  * I'll wait.

******* *******

  * The voice of the representative of the Council still thundered in the sound plates of the landing avigrave when the square hatch opened. The red panel above the exit went out, and the green one lit up instead. Let nothing confuse you!- The representative of SSM thundered.- These are not Florians. These are sparks of a flaring fire! Put out the flame, otherwise it will devour all of us! ...

  * This should not be,- said Ean in Ghor's hairy ear.- Something is wrong. We didn't come here for this ...

Ggor sharply turned his broad face to him, and hissed:

  * Shut up, Een. Shut up!

Guards ran down the gangway in crowds, their yellow helmets glistening matte.

  * Faster, faster! ... - shouted the voice of Sergeant Ttam, torn to hoarseness. - Crush these Mo! Go guys!

Een moved shoulder to shoulder with Ggor in general formation, looked in the back of the head at the marching guardsman and held his gun with the muzzle up. Parachute carbines dangled on rods dangled from the ceiling.

  * The third, fifth, seventh company — to the main entrance!- Thundered, somewhere ahead of Lieutenant Ddel's voice.- Take the building! Resistance crush. Eighth, fourth company - take the perimeter. Run, run! ...

  * Running, running, running! ... - Sergeant Ttam's voice.

Een heard the first shots — a loud crack, screams, footsteps, and now he was running down a wide ramp, his feet touched the hot asphalt, and the bright Big Star, huge and dazzling, made him squint.

They ran, a carbine in their hands, remove the fuse, the finger rests on the trigger, and before it, in the intervals between the bodies of the runners, the steps of the main entrance flash.

A large, white building with a sparkling blue dome rises in front of it like a rock.

Shots burst to the left and right, and the hot, carrion-smelling air trembles.

He needs the other way.

The eighth company is on the perimeter!

Een runs to the left, where the guys from his company rushed past the flight of stairs, past the florians falling on the marble stairs.

He sees the florian blood, red, flowing onto the asphalt from under a motionless body. He jumped over the dead florianin.

Gore is already shooting somewhere to the right and juicy cursing.

Light breeze.

And the smell of carrion.

And the sounds of shooting.

And the screams of dying florians.

The guards kill them silently - a sharp movement of the muzzle towards the victim and a shot.

Only the clatter of running legs and the heavy, hoarse breathing with which this high sky is saturated is heard.

Een stopped under the narrow window of the first floor, stood with his back to the wall, the carabiner was ready, and looked around. Ggor, who stopped five steps away from him, takes aim from a carbine at a runaway florianin.

Shot. The florian falls face down, spreading his powerful arms wide, and dying with his fingers tears the green grass of the lawn. From its fall, gray dust takes off and is blown away by the wind.

Een looked at the wide landed where another landing avigrav was landing now.

Having spread the landing paws, the ship sank smoothly down, sparkled in the rays of the Big Star, gray, polished steel.

Dozens of such avigraves were already standing on the site and on the deserted avenue near the Institute building, and the newly arrived guardsmen, like living, dirty streams, flowed towards their goals, raising airless dust.

Een at the post. He will kill any florianin if he appears in the sector of his fire.

He will not budge without an order.

But, something is wrong.

"\- Something is wrong!" - Een's thoughts carry something hopeless and stuffy. "- That shouldn't have happened!"

He looked right in front of him, at the open square hatch of the nearest Avigrava, and saw four guardsmen who carefully carried out a long, weighty cylinder, holding it by shiny nickel-plated handles.

They went down the gangways, walked along the asphalt carefully, step by step, carried their burden to the main entrance to the building of the Space Institute, from where the sounds of the subsiding cannonade came to Een.

Something terrible and inexorable, that settled in this air, that which has come into this world, rudely and decisively does its job. It breaks and crumbles the old and settled, turns the "wrong" into the "right", tailors fate in its own mysterious way, and nothing will ever be able to become the same, familiar.

Een listens to herself and looks around.

"- This should not be."

The stinking wind carries rancid dust, from which the blue sky above Een loses its transparency, becoming cloudy and low.

A new death has come to the dead world ...

******* *******

Chapter 7

"Stubborn"

In the command compartment of the cruiser "Obstinate", four people were sitting - the captain of the cruiser Simugl Uno, a short and broad-shouldered zaryadin, who recently celebrated his fiftieth anniversary, a chubby brunett with powerful, short arms. His assistant, Olius Komvinyanin, is a forty-year-old, tall, thin, and completely bald man with an elongated, smooth-shaven face.

They were both dressed in the dark blue uniforms of the Commonwealth Navy, with red stripes on their sleeves.

The other two were Yas Lo and Glip Kines.

All four men just finished listening to radio messages from the cruiser's communications center.

They were silent.

The first to speak was Captain Uno.

He leaned with both hands on the shiny surface of the dashboard with nickel, bowed his head, his voice sounded almost calmly and, as it seemed, indifferent:

  * Poorly, - after a few seconds he turned to his interlocutors.- What do we have? Florians from the mixed crew of the "East" cruiser took command of the cruiser. I believe that people in the "East" are already dead. The "East" attacked and destroyed the Cloud passenger spacecraft. Now they are heading for BET. Anyone have any thoughts on this? I would love to listen to you. "And Simugl Uno looked directly at Yas Lo.

  * Now another thing is important, Sim. Floria announced her withdrawal from the Commonwealth, said Yas. They want to colonize Akavia.

Honestly, Wass, I don't give a damn about Akavia, - in the light of the yellow glow of the lamp-panels hanging under the ceiling of the compartment, the face of the cruiser captain seemed waxy. - They go to destroy the Big Evacuation Transport. And I can't do anything about it. "East" is much closer to BET than we are. And they are closer to Dawn than we are. Much closer.

  * I suggest going to Floria, Sim,- said Yas Lo.- They will not dare ...

  * They already dared, destroying the passenger spaceship.- I'm going to Dawn,- the captain said decisively.- The Florians decided to destroy BET, and we are unable to prevent them from doing this. We'll never be able to hang around in the orbit of Floria.

  * Sim, - Yas hesitated a moment, said. - This demarche florian, just a horror story. I am sure our diplomats are already on their way to Floria, and a solution will be found.

Captain Uno did not answer.

  * BET is over,- said Olus.- This is my opinion. They chop off the "ends". If there is no BET, then the colonization of Akavia will be the last opportunity for the Florians to save. I don't know what their captain is thinking, but ... We must move to Dawn! And immediately. Procrastination is death!

The cruiser captain was now looking into the face of Yas Lo.

  * You know what, Yas, what would I like most now?

He was silent.

  * I would give a lot for the Council to confirm your authority.

Yas turned away from the dashboard, which he looked at with a long, indifferent look. And now his eyes studied the captain's face, coldly and indifferently.

  * You will be waiting a long time, Sim. Council members will gather no sooner than in a few days. Do you have a few days?

Simugle Uno did not answer.

  * For you, I am the Council of the Commonwealth. My order is the order of the Council. You swore allegiance to the Commonwealth and you are the captain of a battle cruiser. Leave snot and doubt for anyone else. We have a business, and this business needs to be completed.

  * You made a serious mess, Yas, - Simugle was motionless as a statue. - We started the war. And this is war.

  * Don't be silly, Sim. The Commonwealth has never fought, for hundreds of years of its existence. We averted a catastrophe far greater than the Big Flash. We saved the worlds from extinction and madness. And your cruiser will remain just a combat symbol, nothing more. Florians and people never fought with each other and will never fight. Leave this question to diplomats, Sim. And further. We must reassure those arrested - the Florians are not our enemies.

The captain grinned and said:

  * Madness, Yas, is different.

And they were silent again.

All that was heard was a faint squeak of control equipment and the rustle of ventilation.

The first to speak was Yas Lo.

His face, as if glued from cardboard, motionless like a paralytic, did not change his indifferent expression.

  * Order to begin loading on the "Stubborn", guards from the P-39. We are leaving from Akavia. You are right in one thing - we must urgently move to Dawn.

Simugl Uno turned to the dashboard, touched the "posts" button with his finger, and spoke:

  * Attention. Landing avigraves prepare for evacuation. To the commanders of the cruiser, urgently come to me. I repeat ...

******* *******

Chapter 8.

Sunrise of the "East".

The giant skeleton of BET, resembling the skeleton of a whale, sparkling with metal from numerous farms, strewn with the lights of dimensional beacons, motionlessly hung in the void of space, against the background of stars and the gray Spider nebula stretching from Dogu to Yama. There was no movement near the Big Evacuation Transport - the orbital tugs disappeared, welding flashes did not spark on the BET constructions, even in its central part, where the truss networks converged, on the erected residential complexes, there was no movement of lights.

The transport vehicle "Fat Man", with a sharp, short nose and a swollen, polished body, motionlessly hung three kilometers from the BET.

Them were waiting here.

The panorama of Transport that opened to the eyes of the florians fascinated with its grandeur.

The cruiser froze at a distance of five thousand kilometers from its target, awaiting orders to launch an attack.

The florians, dressed in navy suits of the Military Space Fleet, stood in front of the large observation screen of the command compartment, and silently looked at the BET.

  * I saw it a dozen times,- said the captain of the "East" cruiser, the tall and thin florian Urk Ruk, his yellow eyes were wide open.- Hundreds of years of construction, hundreds of years of patience,- he turned to his assistant, stocky and young Tsak At. - Bring Thunder of the Wind here. I want him to see it.

  * I obey!

Tsak At quickly left the compartment.

Near the captain were several senior cruiser officers, all of whom were florians.

They silently waited for the order.

******* *******

The commander of combat unit 5, the "East" cruiser, Senior Major Thunder Sever, a short-haired brunett, barefoot, in his tattered blue uniform, lay on the floor of the medical compartment, in which a burning signal ceiling under a high ceiling dimly illuminated the pogrom surrounding the operating room broken test tubes and pneumatic syringes were lying on the table, tool cabinets were moved from their places, and their contents — needles, bandages and any mysterious medical trifle — were scattered across the floor.

Here was stuffy.

There was a viscous, thick smell of blood, medicine and feces.

Opposite Thunder, there, at the operating table, curled up in an embryo position and buried his face in the glossy, gray floor, the Bouncer lay.

Bouncer-chatterbox.

Tongue without bones.

Yap Ench.

Thunder Sever tried not to look there.

Ench Ozag is a sixty-year-old lieutenant of the BCh-5, an old friend.

His blood on the floor is already dry.

Ench died a day ago, or so.

He lived with his stomach open for two days - delirious, he laughed and cursed, argued with someone, and often called his son ...

The wounds on Thunder's chest were burning with pain, but the blood from them stopped oozing, the uniform torn on his chest hung in rags long and hard from dried blood. The healing patch, which turned from white to dark red, peeled off in places.

Ench.

He was left in the service for another year, at the request of the cruiser officers.

Ench Ozag.

Thunder's back was numb from a long and motionless lying on the floor, but he was in no hurry to roll over to his side. Again, an unbearable, dazzling flash of pain bursts through the whole body.

Everything is over.He did not understand why he was left alive. The Florians killed all the people on the cruiser's crew - Thunder had no doubt in that, he saw that sudden, like a bloody massacre, he saw how yesterday friends-florians, shredded their claws, rushed at people, with long cries, and killed the wounded ...

Wild thirst tormented him.

Still, he decided to roll onto his right side. Thunder's left shoulder was dislocated.

His body shook with pain when he first threw his left leg over his right, and then began to roll over with a groan on his side.

A numbed back almost did not hurt.

He laid his head on the cold floor, closed his eyes, exhaled through clenched teeth.

Ench ...

He will be killed too. But later. Thunder Sever did not doubt it for a single moment. He could not understand the reason for the postponement of the sentence.

Two days ago, Ench was still alive. Two days ago, Thunder, overcoming the pain, got up and, going to the door leading to the corridor, stood and looked at the square, blood-stained window. Outside the window was a narrow space of a brightly lit corridor — a cream-colored wall, a white ceiling, and a brown floor. Opposite the medical compartment, a colored poster hung on which two officers of the Military, Space Fleet, a man and a Florian, were smiling. And on top, above the poster, a bright red inscription- "brothers forever."

Brothers forever.He stood for a long time and looked at this meager landscape, and was about to leave and lie down when he saw two florian officers.

Both of them were in the rank of captains of the engineering post Av Rai and Kira Murk.

The florians were in a hurry somewhere, walking fast and lively, talking about something among themselves.

Thunder did not hear the sound of their voices.

He looked at what they were carrying.

Av in his left hand carried his head, holding it by the hair and waving it while walking.

Kira had a bare leg on his shoulder.

They passed quickly, Thunder did not have time to carefully examine their burden, but it seemed to him that this severed head was familiar to him — a pale face, bulging eyes, an open mouth with a loose tongue ...

Kira saw him in the window and waved to Thunder with his free hand, he even smiled, friendly, kindly, as he always smiled at him.

The cool floor chilled his cheek.

Thunder opened his eyes and looked at the door, a dark window, the light was turned off in the corridor.

Thick armored door, thick armored glass.

In principle, running away from here was stupid and ridiculous. He will not find anything other than death on the cruiser. Florians are unsurpassed hunters and they learn about his place of residence before he finds out about their approach.

Thunder tried not to think about his family - then, before his death, he would remember them for the last time. The first two days of imprisonment, he almost brought himself to frenzy with memories of his wife and son.

His friends, those with whom he served on this cruiser for many years, are already dead.

Ench.

Keen.

Mugo.

Sina.

Fi.

Jets.

Frisky.

He could go on with this list.

They are all dead already.

It seemed to him that his temporary salvation from death was something wrong.

He served on this cruiser for twenty-one years, and now he seemed to be orphaned, as if he had been kicked out of his own house, and forced to wander in other people's yards.

His relatives and friends, years of service, laughter and conversations in the wardroom of the ship, a time filled with meaning and purpose, all this was now dead.

Forever and ever.

These days will never go back.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed in the door window, highlighting an elongated light rectangle on the floor of the medical compartment.

A massive shadow appeared in the light.

Thunder North shuddered and looked up.

The florians came for him. The door opened silently, diluting the twilight of the medical compartment with the bright light of the light panels burning in the corridor.

The first to enter the door was the gunner from the fourth artillery battery, Uklo. Thunder did not remember his last name.

Uklo.

Following him, came the radio operator Gress Nye.

Uklo went to the table where Ench was lying, kicked a dead body and snorted, said in Florian:

  * Rotten.

Gress Nye remained standing in the doorway, looking at Thunder.

  * Get up, - Uklo hung over him, his powerful arms hung along the powerful torso, his legs were wide apart. - Our captain wants to see you.

The thunder turned heavily, began to rise, restraining itself so as not to groan in pain and said:

  * Take the trouble to keep subordination when talking to a senior. Sergeant.

And then Uklo simply grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, jerkily picked it up and put Thunder on its feet, laughed:

  * Step forward. Talking noob!

From unbearable chest pain, Thunder North almost lost consciousness, a nauseating dull rang in his head and rolled. He gritted his teeth.

"- Do not shout! In front of them..."

Holding him by the arms, without ceremony, the florians almost dragged dragged Thunder along the corridor. He did not think well, saw almost nothing because of the tearing, burning pain.

A dull wheeze erupted from his dry throat. Then the Thunder was forgotten, dreary and hard, it began to seem to him that he was now, somewhere in another place and that he was walking on the shaky floor and even arguing with someone ...

A sonorous slap brought him to his senses.

Then the second.

Thunder North opened his eyes. There was a continuous ringing in his ears.

He was still held under his arms, he almost hung in the hands of the Florians, and his legs did not obey, they bent at the knees.

Command module.

Bright light from the ceiling made everything around unrealistically clear and colorful, to the pain in the eyes. In front of him stood captain Urk Ruk - as big as a rock.

His motionless face, covered with gray fur, like a stuffed face, his yellow eyes were staring into Thunder's face. Several florian officers stood silently on either side.

Thunder tried to straighten, but his legs treacherously weakened and trembled.

  * I have the honor, captain,- he said hoarsely.

The captain snorted.

  * Forget it. You are just a noob. It's a pity that you're not an dawnian. Very sorry.

Thunder tried to smile and his lips sprawled in a grin:

  * I am an officer of the cruiser of the Commonwealth of Worlds. And you are a captain, an oath-breaker. That's it.

  * I wanted to keep assistant alive, but failed. May it be you. I always could not tolerate you,- Captain Urk was silent for a moment, and then said firmly and calmly.- Look at the screen, noob. I want you to see it. This is the last thing in your worthless life, noob. You will die like a noob.

Thunder looked at the large viewing screen above the wide control panel. In the vast, unflappable blackness of space, the giant frame of the BET was motionlessly hanging. Invisible from here, the Big Star lit up steel ribs BET, from somewhere to the right. An artificial Star hung in the upper left corner of the screen, like a small, dazzlingly bright, yellow ball, and from its radiance the central structures of the Transport seemed to be covered in gold.

  * Can you see it well, noob?

  * Do you see noob here, captain?\- Thunder wanted to go back to the medical compartment, stretch out on the cool floor and die quietly. But he knew that he would die here.- There are no animals on the cruiser.

The captain laughed, loudly and hoarsely, said, it seemed without anger, he even smiled, exposing his white fangs:

  * Do not foolishly, it will not help you. Look. I want you to see it. Here he is the leash for which the dawnians led us for centuries. And this came to an end. I will cut off this leash!

  * Captain, says the communications compartment. The "South" spaceship continues to request permission to communicate with us. From BET they give orders to shuttles to leave the sluice hangars.

  * Do not answer!

  * BET, this is your only hope, Captain. Your people will perish.

  * We are colonizing Akavia. BET is no longer necessary.

  * Akavia will not be given to you.

  * Do you think that we will ask you about it? - Urk laughed. - You? We will take it ourselves, without demand, we will take it, as it belongs to us by right.

  * You do not have such rights.

  * Oh, senseless and dumb cattle! Signalers, broadcast enabled?

  * That's right, captain! - A peppy voice came from the sound plates above the remote control. - BET close-up.

  * Commander of the bow battery, fourth deck. Plasma guns on target, fire! Do not miss, guys.

Thunder North hung on the hands of the Florians. Overpowering the pain, he looked at the overview screen.

"I will see it!" He thought.

The combat alarm rang in the compartment, and orders sounded through it:

  * Battery, maximum charge!

  * The distance is five thousand.

  * Solitary. Aim in the center of the target. Destroy!

From the cruiser's nose guns, which were above the command compartment, it blazed orange, and dozens of small, red sparks, drawing light stripes on the screen, rushed to the BET's skeleton. The fighting plasmoids had a speed of ten kilometers per second, and they quickly reached their goal. Farms and technical add-ons were lit with yellow flashes - a volley, another volley. The frame of the Transport in the center and closer to the stern, lit up with many soundless explosions, molten metal scattered in space with red, quickly dying out spray. Beams of the frame in the places where plasmoids hit, tore and bent. The "Bagel" residential complex, having lost its upper part, became red-hot and sank. The cruiser hit BET, cutting it in half. Already with broken structures in its central part, the frame of the Transport remained motionless. It took time for this huge mass of metal to set in motion. The spacecraft hanging near the Transport undocked from the mooring pipes, its navigation lights lit up with bright, long flashes, and nuclear engines came to life. The spaceship began a slow motion, turning around from BET, it was already gliding in space, moving away, gaining speed. The captain of the spaceship tried to save the crew and ship.

  * Destroy the enemy ship!

Sparks of plasmoids darted toward the departing spaceship and it flashed like a big star, scattering in all directions with bright splashes of molten metal.

It was all over.

Captain Urk turned to Thunder, his yellow eyes wide open.

  * You saw it well, noob?

  * You just killed your people, Captain Rook. They will curse you, - Thunder Sever said these words without straining, even calmly. - You are a criminal and a traitor.

  * The mooring team prepare to tow the Artificial Star.

Captain Ruk Urk stepped toward Thunder, in the dull, white light of the light panels, his fur cast in silver. He looked down at Thunder and said:

  * You will not see what will happen next, noob. But you will know about it. We go to Dawn, and no one has time to save her. No one. Even the old Man "Stubborn" is too far from here. He will come later. And I will crush him. And now ... Now, noob, you will die, but first I will show you your heart,- the captain turned to the waiting officers, and spoke louder, metal sounded in his voice.- We are history! We are the future of Floria! Our place in eternity! ...

The thunder shook from a small tremor, the pain — constant and tearing his body apart, spread like fire on his body, his thoughts were confused by fear, but he forced himself to grin, forced himself to say the last words:

  * Yes, captain, take the place of a traitor, this is a place of honor ...

Urk Rook delivered him a quick blow, like a shot, crushing and tearing.

Into the chest of Thunder of the North.

The claws of his powerful hand crushed the ribs and flesh of the major.

Dying, going into the depths of deadly darkness, falling into it and slipping out of the arms of a new, insane pain, in mute delirium, the commander of the combat unit 5, the cruiser "East", senior major Thunder Sever saw his heart ...

******* *******

Chapter 9.

Iron helmet.

He gathered the entire crew in the cabin of the "Vagrant".

Thirty two people.

Thirty-seven florians.

There was always too bright lighting. So it seemed to him.

Light panels under the ceiling shone with yellow, warm light - bright, and almost natural, daylight. In this light, everything seemed too clear.

View of Winter was silent.

The crew seated themselves in the seats of a spacious cabin-company, large as a solemn hall; everyone had already listened to the recordings of radio messages from the Central Dispatch.

Everyone knew what had happened.

They were silent.

  * They go to Dawn, Viev, - Bonch Trem - a tall and overweight middle-aged man, the "Vagrant" astrophysicist, looked calm, as usual. - "East" destroyed the passenger spacecraft. They will hit Dawn.

Having said that, he fell silent.

The silence in the wardroom lasted a long, endless minute.

  * There are no tugs in this sector except us,- Viev sat motionless in his chair at the dull, white table against the wall, he held his hands in front of him.- We will be in time.

Florian Wu Kra, a mechanical engineer, in a gray overalls unbuttoned on his chest, grinned, showing the whiteness of his sharp fangs and said:

  * Cruiser, this is not a tugboat. The firepower of the "East" surpasses ours ... Ten to one? Thirty to one? Even with all its energy, the "Vagrant" cannot compete with them.

  * A cruiser is needed here, not a tugboat,- agreed Lur Ron, a young Florian driller.- Or a dozen tugboats.

View of Winter noted that so far only the florians were saying that the crew remained silent.

  * We are alone,- he said, feeling like a bitter, rough lump was stuck somewhere in his throat, and presses, pershit. - There will be no others.

  * They won't dare,- said Yasnaya Vesennyaya, the crew's energy engineer, a blond young woman with a scattering of funny freckles under her cornflower eyes.- They scare us. This is a demarche.

"They".

View looked from her to the florians sitting nearby, and then looked at the people again.

Does he trust them?

In the "East" also someone, someone trusted.

He felt something inside him shudder in disgust at himself. To doubt your friends is like becoming a traitor.

Kind of Winter again looked at the florians.

Fys Rola, Three Way, Moaoli Hash ... He looked at them directly and honestly, no doubt. Their eyes watched him.

"\- They also think about it," - View did not find what to say to the crew. "- They are still deciding. And it's possible that everyone has already decided. "

From the far end of the wardroom, where a sprawling ficus grew in a large yellow pot, dawnian, Chis Vaud, the third navigator of the "Vagrant", gave his voice. He sat in an arm-chair, cross-legged, even shook his toe up-down, up-down. His bright orange jumpsuit seemed to glow among the ficus leaves.

  * They will kill Dawn, View. We need to go there.

  * It is necessary, Chis, - View looked at him now. - It is necessary.

Opposite Viev, at the engineers' table, covering her face with her hands, sat Nira Krum, in white medical overalls, her black short hair was cut into two short braids.

And it began.

People suddenly broke through like a dam. They spoke loudly, almost shouted, argued about something and decided something. The florian voices stood out against the general background of voices, in a low, guttural sound.

View thought that until this moment, he had never divided the crew into people and Florians.

Never.

He looked and listened.

He had already decided everything for himself.

Decided for everyone.

  * They drag an Artificial Star to Dawn!

  * How, how do we stop them?

  * Can we cruiser ram?

  * The power of the cruiser ... Who will let you in for a ram?

The assistant captain, a tall florian Tsar Much, got up from his chair and barked so that View had a pain in his ears:

  * Quiet!

For a few seconds, silence reigned in the wardroom.

  * I will ask only once. Do any of you want to leave the ship?

The answer was a general silence.

  * I had no doubt, but I should have asked you about it,- the Tsar said, not looking at View.- Cruiser, this is a serious circumstance. We have no chance. But we will try. Because Dawn has no chance at all, no! And there, how it goes. But it is necessary to stop the "East", and there is no one to do it besides us.- He turned to View Winter, looked into his face for a long time, and said.- What did you decide, captain?

The View rose to its feet, leaning heavily on the table.

  * We are going now,- he spoke quietly and calmly, and this made him even harder.- Our course towards Dawn. Let's make an adjustment. Power engineers and engineers solve the problem with our meteorite protection. I need all her power. All. Let the group of gunners check the asteroid torpedoes, "he paused for a moment, and looking into the faces of those listening to him, he added." You are my friends. " You are more to me than friends. The flight is not over. We will give a fight. And we will defeat them!

******* *******

The tramp's command compartment was quiet and light. Only not a loud, short squeak of control devices broke this solemn silence. View sat in the first pilot's seat. The helm, painted with multi-colored signal lights, was motionless.

To his left, a stone's throw from him, sat Tsar Much — the florian's elongated face covered with short fur was turned toward the indicator screen.

Hands in white, full-length gloves, the blue pilot's suit looked brand new, and the Deep Fleet badge glittered on his chest.

Tsar.

View involuntarily smiled.

Tsar Much.

He was always collected and solemn. Even at parties in the wardroom, he appeared as a parade.

View of Winter shifted his gaze to the control panel. On the tracking screen, large and rectangular, to the right above the rows of buttons, their route diagram shone brightly.

The bold green line of the tugboat exited from the bottom edge of the screen, and almost ran into a blue circle denoting Dawn. Further this line diverged as a fan of dashed lines, their possible movement. Each line of this fan had its own risk color - green, red, yellow and white. White color denoted the flight path of the ship, which at a given speed, led the tug to complete destruction.

The yellow triangle of the Vostok cruiser flickered at the top of the screen. Between him and Dawn, the orange cross of the Artificial Star shone.

AS.

The main indicators of the movement of the tug were three. Green - a smooth dotted arc, slightly curved after turning in the orbit of Dawn, passed almost next to the cruiser.

Minimum overloads at a given speed under the conditions of the proposed maneuver.

The orange cross AS remained far away from the "Vagrant's" flight path.

The red line bent more strongly, it almost equally divided the distance between the cross and Isom, and went further to one of the two moons of Dawn. Opposite each red dotted line, the digits of the overload values were lit.

The yellow line almost touched the designation AS, it was strongly bent by a humpback arch, and along it warning signs of critical overloads shone.

White, the color of the complete destruction of the ship.

The color of death.

Only the wreckage of the "Vagrant" will fly along the white route, what will remain of it after a quick disaster.

  * AS is far away,- said the Tsar.

  * We will come from the side of the planet, otherwise the "East" will attack us before our maneuver.

  * He attacks us anyway. It is unclear what is still waiting. AS already heading for Dawn. They can move forward, to meet us.

  * They are the watchmen.

  * Hmm,- the Tsar silently examined the tracking screen in front of him, then said.- We need to slow down, start braking. Then we will leave on an acceptable trajectory.

  * Let's go out slowly.

  * Then we'll miss.

  * We will see. "East" also thinks so. That's why he is waiting. The distance from it to us will be fifty thousand, and if we change the flight parameters, they will notice it and begin to act. Then there's no chance for us.

  * We will not deduce.

  * We will deduce. It is necessary to deduce.

Tsar Much shook his big head, but said nothing.

  * There are seventy-eight minutes left before the maneuver of the spacecraft, "the computer voice announced impassively.

View extended his hand to the control panel and switched on the external communication, put on the headphones hanging on his neck.

Through the wheezing and squealing of radio interference, he heard a cacophony of voices:

  * I am the passenger ship "Laguna", I am going with overload. My coordinates ...

  * Says the control room. Free route 19/307, the "Vagrant" tug is heading towards the AS. He is on the march. I repeat ...

  * Lighthouse 102, take the mast away ...

  * I dont know! They have already destroyed seven ships! ...

  * ... I'm going to land. Dawn. Give me a green light. Spaceport "Smooth". I'll take everyone. Prepare ...

  * There are children. Take the children, only the children! ...

  * ... And I tell you in clear language, I do not have fuel! I'm coming from Munyf.

  * You will be refueled by the Alipa station.

  * What is Alipa? Are you there, that all fell asleep? There is the "East"! ...

  * Go to Oru. They are waiting for you there. "Strong-5", go to Or ...

  * And transport, damn them! Where is your transport? ...

Kind took off the headphones.

He wiped his sweaty face with his palm.

  * Tsar.

  * What? - he turned to him, his fur in the yellow light of light panels, shone gray and gold.

  * We will go at an beyond speed.

  * And so it is clear. Do you want to slow down?

  * I do not want.

The king grinned and said:

  * Well, it's stupid. Although ... - Florian shrugged his shoulders. - Maybe it will work out.

  * They will shoot us right away.

  * They will shoot.

  * We must surprise them.

  * We will surprise them.

And that's all.

"We will surprise them."

View looked at the overview screen. In the black and motionless square of space, almost in the center of the screen, a bright green-blue ball of Dawn was burning. The Big Star was shining on the right. Somewhere out there, in a panic and a fever of teams, fleet spaceships are moving away from the planet. They take the evacuees from Dawn.

Unblinking stars calmly gazed at him from the screen.

  * Captain,- the voice of the navigator Uul Klad sounded in the compartment.- We just passed the passenger Gamma-172. Distance two thousand, speed ...

  * I get it, Oul. Thanks.

Slowly lasted minutes.

  * Energy, what do you have?

  * It's all right, captain. We wait.

  * At my command, channel all your energy into anti-meteor defense. To the whole crew, look around in the compartments. Secure anything that could be dangerous.

  * Check it out.

  * Two hours to maneuver.

They sat silently in the command compartment.

The view relaxed, closed his eyes.

The last day was really frantic, but now everything will end soon.

He remembered a quiet place on a rocky hill, the smell of wormwood and the coolness of the spring wind. And silent birch, and Nimble constantly, somewhere disappearing. And the quiet rustle of a stream under a hill ...

Bell.

Yas.

He smelled the fire and the expectation of Yas laughing.

"\- I don't have to go anywhere. They are always with me. "

Your reflection

a reflection of me

fit in a handful of water ...

He smiled.

He wanted to sing not a complicated song motive, but he restrained himself.

You will hardly forget me.

Hardly.

******* *******

  * Work out with shunting engines!

  * Already doing it! - View of three times pressed the blue button on the left handle of the helm, held tight, watching the readings.

The convex surface of the Dawn rushed through the overview screen. Not reaching the terminator, the blue ocean blinded dazzlingly, and a string of clouds twisted into a spiral, with milky, blurry haze, almost touched the dark side of the mainland. There, in the darkness of the night, multicolored placers of lights were burning. Cities were getting ready for bed.

  * Five degrees from the axis!- Ordered View.

  * There are five degrees.

The tug, like a gigantic, iron spider, widely spreading its gripping paws to the sides and covering the multi-tiered flat head glistening with portholes with a heavy armored carapace, obeying the jet thrust of the engines, slowly and lazily turned its nose to the still invisible cruiser.

  * Yes,- said the Tsar.- We leave nose to nose.

  * Energetic, started!

  * Protection is on, captain.

The "Vagrant" flew at a given speed — too high for the necessary maneuver, but View, on approach to Dawn, did not slow down the spaceship. They moved along the calculated trajectory.

The planet, unusually fast for his pilot gaze, turned toward the ship.

Speed.

In their business, the main thing is speed.

  * Antimeteor, we go out. Open fire on the AS at the moment of visible contact.

  * We are waiting, captain.

  * Ten seconds before contact,- the Tsar announced.

This meant that in ten seconds the "Vagrant" would be on the other side of the planet and would go out into the open, where fifty thousand kilometers from it, he would see the cruiser "East".

  * Seven, six, five ...

And then a loud voice from an external connection sounded in the compartment:

  * Say your name, crazy noob. I want to know who I'll kill.

The "Vagrant" has already entered a predetermined trajectory for maneuver.

And View said:

  * My name is Iron Helmet.

Here it is - "East", a bright point right on the course.

View began to turn the helm to the right - slowly, very slowly.

The spaceship answered a second later, changing course. The "Vagrant" went towards a bright red ball.

AS.

Dawn remained behind the tugboat.

The ship rushed in open space, coming out from behind the shelter of the planet, and as if an enraged beast grappled with the cruiser in a fiery battle.

The guns of the tug were the first to open fire on the Artificial Star and on the "East". Plotting fast and bright lines in the black space, fireballs of plasmoids flew from the bow of the tugboat, and went to the sparkling point of the cruiser, darted in dazzling beams to the deadly raspberry ball.

AS sailed towards Dawn.

And the cruiser answered.

The distance allowed the tug to evade retaliation, but Weed had already made a maneuver to turn and the spaceship was not controlled.

Only a turn.

Plazmoids flew by, issued from the cruiser.

  * Look, we don't fit in!- The Tsar growled, his fangs grinning predatoryly.- Add more!

Another second passed and overloads piled on.

The pilots were pressed into the seats, View's hands became heavy like weights.

The crimson ball on the review screen was too close to the bottom edge of the screen.

More more...

View's chest was squeezed so that he could hardly breathe. He just gulped air.

Yet...

The tugboat poured in a monstrous mass, answered the pilot with the rattle of a deforming hull, somewhere loudly with a shudder of the floor and compartment walls, something that seemed to be reliable only recently collapsed with a clank.

Keep.

To the right ...

The intercom was silent.

Seat belts, like steel hoops, dug into his chest, squeezed into unbearable pain, like the fingers of a predator, killing and strangling his prey.

Seatbelts, like steel hoops, dug into his chest, squeezed into unbearable pain. Like the fingers of a predator killing and strangling its prey.

With a roar and a rattle that shook the entire body of the tugboat, bent and twisted the two supports, and they lay on the residential complex of the ship, breaking through the casing, brought down the three lower tiers and buried those who were there underneath.

The "Vagrant", with an anguish, turned to the Artificial Star, showered it with plasmoids from its guns, intending to ram it.

Your reflection ...

The armored, convex shield of the spaceship, took on all the power of the cruiser's fire, lit up with dazzling flashes of explosions, it illuminated the space around , in placers of molten metal, which a moment ago was the protection of the crew.

The "Vagrant" turned to AS, and he opened his crippled starboard side.

A handful of water fit ...

The nasal guns of the tugboat drowned in white fire.

Already losing consciousness, Weed led the ship to the ram.

The tugboat passed very close from the AS; it fell silent and fell silent. The armored shield, turning into a molten red mass, crawled to the left, and scattered from the ship, like a comet's fiery tail, reaching for what had recently been the "Vagrant".

The residential tiers and technical decks of the tugboat, all this turned into a raging, fiery hash and drowned in explosions, forming a current and dazzlingly bright something, without life and without purpose.

The red-hot remains of the tug went into empty space.

... You will forget me.

AS approached Dawn unhindered.

******* *******

Urk Rook triumphantly grinned.

He stood on the floor in a bloody daub - straight, like a board, and in his yellow eyes reflected the starry cosmos from the screen.

  * Death to the Dawn!

The Artificial Star, flaring up like a dazzling yellow spot, entered the blue space of the planet's atmosphere, and now it was crashing down, sweeping the white, swirling cyclone with its heat.

AS, having pierced the atmosphere, plunged into the mainland near the east coast, and drowned in a column of hot ash, went deep into the bowels of the planet and, after a moment, exploded.

The coast and part of the ocean swelled by a giant bubble and burst.

Black smoke, interspersed with blood-red fire, burst out, grew a multi-kilometer pillar, rested on the stratosphere of Dawn, flattened and quickly spread to the sides, flooding the plains and mountains, burying cities and fields.

The planet's blue atmosphere quickly blackened like burning paper blackened.

  * We killed Dawn!- Cried Urk Ruk and his thin mustache trembled excitedly, and his blood-stained mouth spread out in a smile.- Death to the Dawn! Watch it all! She is not, and will not be. We killed Dawn! We killed her!

******* *******

Chapter 10.

The last day of the Commonwealth. P-39.

They stood in the Tactical Decisions Hall \- Captain Simugl Uno, his assistant Olius Kom, artillery commander, dawnian Tack Skohch and Illyanian Bad Zhmerik, chief navigator.

A wide, color hologram of the worlds of the Commonwealth, with a bright, orange Big Star in the center of the system, hung in the middle of the room, like a ghost.

Their silence was broken by the captain. Stepping to the left, he pointed to a blue ball near the green oval and said colorlessly:

  * We will meet them here, near Runul. With our artillery, we have no choice. We'll give a fight here.

  * Captain, may I?- Asked Bad Zhmerik.

  * I'm listening.

  * We will not master the battle with the "East", head-on.

  * I confirm this,- said Olius Kom, his bald head glistened in the muffled light of light panels, he looked at the hologram.

  * This is understandable, - the captain did not move.

Zhmerik stepped forward and continued to say:

  * But we can take them by surprise.

  * How?- Uno turned in his direction, looking without interest.

  * Here,- Zhmerik pointed to a gray strip, long and narrow, passing by three blue balls that designated inhabited worlds and ending with a short fork, similar to the language of a snake.- If we now change course and enter the Morrtik gap, we will leave the asteroid belt and will not be visible to the "East". They will lose us.

  * We will lose them too.

  * I'm afraid we have no choice, captain. We will proceed from the fact that after the Dawn ... They will continue their movement further to Or. We will wait for them behind the asteroid belt, near the Tabau slit, and we will send an observation probe to know about the appearance of the "East".- Zhmerik pointed to an empty space behind the asteroid belt.- We will accelerate and at cruising speed we will leave Tabau, right under their nose. With great speed and proximity of the "East" to the gap, we will give a short battle. They will not have time to warm up the plasma and put the power reactors into battle mode. This is our chance, captain. Seconds decide. I've finished.

Simugle Uno was silent for a long time looking at the hologram.

A minute later he said:

  * If the "East" comes out to Tabau. And if they change course? Then everyone is finished - Ohr, Kuwai, Laguna, P-39. Then comes the turn of everyone else.

  * Captain, - Olius shrugged his sharp shoulders, said. - This is the standard direction. They are now moving in our direction. What is the point of changing the course? In a few days, one way or another, everything will be over.

  * Urk is not a fool. Our disappearance may prompt him to think of a change in course. He will go hunting.

  * Our disappearance may be interpreted in different ways. For example, the fact that we hid the cruiser behind Khi, in a stationary orbit, and turned off the power units.

  * Captain, it is unlikely that Urk Rook will suspect that you have decided on such an adventure. And to go into an open battle with the "East", now stupid. I am not afraid to die, but Dawn must be avenged. Without shock lasers, they will break us, and we cannot repair them now.

  * One good asteroid passing through the Tabau slit will kill us. At cruising speed ...- the captain was silent for a long time, then looking at the officers, he said.\- Well, well. Not a thousand years we will live here. We will discuss the details of the operation later. We change the course. We go to the gap Morrtika.

  * What will we do with the arresteds, captain?

  * Kill them all. Body overboard. They are not our brothers.

******* *******

Where the giant gap in the asteroid belt ended, a wide branch emerged from the general stream of this wandering stone river- Morrtik's wing, and further from it the gas giant Fana moved along its eternal route. Fana yellow-gray planet with a wide, striped ring, consisting of crushed stone fragments. While Fana was in this sector of the system, all spacecraft were forced to chart their course bypassing the Morrtic's wing and bypassing the gas giant. Here, in one of the most dangerous places for the Big Star system for space navigation, the "Stubborn" gave a short battle to the "East" cruiser.

Having made a long-range maneuver behind the asteroid belt, the "Stubborn", having accelerated to its cruising speed, flew through a crack in a stone river and ended up at a calculated point. He missed the "East" bypassing Fan only three thousand kilometers, and delivered a smashing, fatal blow from all of his plasma guns.

Only forty seconds have passed since the "East" discovered the enemy, and after these forty seconds the "Stubborn" flashed his guns in front of him, flickered like red lightning, and turned into a small, fleeing bright spot.

It was all over.

Cruiser "Obstinate" began braking and maneuver on a U-turn.

Four days later, Captain Simugl Uno returned the ship back to Fan. In the image enlarged by the optics on the review screen, the dark silhouette of the "East" froze.

In the command compartment, only voices were heard from the sound plates of the internal communication and the abrupt squeak of devices.

Simugl Uno sat in his chair opposite the wide control panel, and watched the image on the screen in front of him.

  * Captain, says the tracking compartment. The target is uncontrollable. It is moving at the route of 559. The activity of engines and reactors is not observed.

  * We finished them, Sim,- said Olius Kom., Who was sitting to the right of the captain,- the "East" is dead.

  * Captain, I see a few scattered goals. These are their rescue shuttles. Only fourteen. Removing from us ...

  * Track them all,- said the captain.- We will destroy everyone. They will not leave. Torpedo Bay!

  * I'm listening, captain.

  * The target is the cruiser "East". One torpedo, nuclear warhead. Volley!

A rocket flying out of a cruiser's torpedo shaft appeared on the screen- fast-moving blue fire of jet engines. Accelerating, she went to the black mass of the "East".

And disappeared.

And a few minutes later, the screen lit up with a blinding flash.

  * The target is destroyed, captain.

Simugle leaned back in his easy chair, laid his head on the headrest and closed his eyes.

  * What are you going to do next, Sim?- Asked Olius.

  * I'll finish the shuttles.

  * And then?

  * Yas Lo wants us to go on the P-39 and drop the guards.

  * Ten thousand mouths, I don't need here, Ol.

  * And then?

Simugl Uno opened his eyes, wearily turned his head in his direction and said without expression, as if it did not matter to him anymore:

  * And then, Ol, we will go to Floria. I will burn her to the ground. And then...

He closed his colorless eyes and fell silent.

******* *******

The dark sky cried incessantly in a shallow, cold rain.

He stood on the crushed concrete of a wide area of the Directory - motionless as a stone, frozen like ice, as if paralyzed.

His black, long cloak was wet from the endless, drizzling rain that had been pouring for a week and would be pouring for another month or two, or forever, so that this gloomy world would become wet and decayed completely.

The sky, dull, drowning in clouds as heavy as a tombstone, looked at him, blindly and indifferently.

He was waiting.

Maybe he waited for this day all his life, thinking that this would never happen.

Around it was cold, damp and dark.

Somewhere in front, on the very edge of the Directory, where a high, concrete wall passed, the darkness of city blocks reigned. And only behind them, behind these seemingly dead quarters, further, behind a flat, overgrown with low bushes wasteland, the rare lights of the workshops of the processing plant glittered. And in the quarters themselves, rugged by ancient, broken avenues and squares, there was neither light nor sound.

It seemed to him that only here, within the Directory, where the electric light was on, the support units were noisy, and the figures of the military in wet raincoats were moving - the life of the whole world was concentrated.

And futher lay an endless and lifeless void.

He stood and looked at the sky, and drops of cold rain washed his pale face, flowed down his cheeks like tears.

Next to him, a couple of steps away, stood his deputy.

He, too, stood silently.

And he was waiting too.

Several guardsmen trunble towards the center of the square a heavy, anti-aircraft gun. The other guards, in two, dragged large boxes of shells.

A young guardsman ran up to him and loudly and clearly reported:

  * Mr. Ppak! The directors fled. They are not in the building. Garage for all-terrain vehicles, empty.

  * I know,- Ppak looked into the elongated face of the guardsman, said in a calm voice.- They will not escape from fate. What about the cruiser?

  * The observation post reported that while everything was unchanged, the cruiser is in high orbit and continues to fly around the world. There are indications of numerous targets that depart from the cruiser. They are grouped in orbit. They don't get in touch with us.

  * How many of them?

  * At the moment, counted forty-two goals, Mr. Ppak.

  * Assault shuttles,- Ppak turned his back on the guardsman, and stared up at the sky again.- Let them inform me immediately when the targets will go down.

  * I obey, Mr. Ppak!

The guardsman quickly left towards the main entrance to the Directory.

  * Maybe we'll send a patrol to look for Directors?- Deputy Ppak said these words uncertainly.- Two hundred guardsmen ... To the south-west. A?

  * Ttal, what's the point? Everything is simple. They spoke with the cruiser, they were told something, and they ran. All.

  * What all?

  * Fate, Ttal. Fate

For several minutes they stood silently, listening to the loud commands of the commanders of the guards, spanking in puddles and mud, the rustle of tires of anti-aircraft gun.

Behind them, upstairs, somewhere on the roof of the eight-story Directorate building, searchlights flashed at once, and five powerful, bright rays hit the dark sky, began to scour the sides, and their light illuminated the gloomy area. Low clouds lit up.

  * I'll go see what is on the western side,- Ttal said as if apologizing, raising the collar of his cloak and hiding his face under the hood.

  * Go, go ...

His deputy quickly disappeared into the dark.

Ppak thought indifferently, looking at the rays of searchlights rushing in the sky:

"\- We will not meet Ttal. Sly Ttal. Friend. Hm. You have always been a coward. "

At these moments, Ppak seemed empty and insignificant all that he did in his life.

All his efforts and efforts to improve the hopeless life of the people of this city, or at least make their life not as disgusting as it was, his dodgyness to the directors, the lie of some to others, the lie to those who worked in the shops of factories, and those who lived in the darkness of the quarters, all this turned out to be empty and insignificant.

His whole life, petty and worthless, could not change the existing state of things in this world ...

His chest ached and it became difficult for him to breathe.

Rain it's good - no one will see his tears.

Finally, an anti-aircraft gun was installed, directly opposite Ppak.

He saw the guards pulling heavy machine guns onto observation towers.

An anti-aircraft crew commander ran up to him. Ppak looked and saw that this was a young girl, probably recently completed a course of commanders of medium height, taut, her face was wet from the rain, and the yellow helmet in the glare of the spotlights shone with gold.

Golden Legion.

The future of the world.

The hope of tomorrow.

So they were called.

So the directors talked about them on the radio ...

She stretched out in front of him like a string, said loudly:

Mr. Ppak! Anti-aircraft gun installed, calculation ready for battle.

Well done, - he looked at her for a while. - Wait for the team.

I obey, Mr. Ppak!

She did not leave, stepped aside two steps and remained standing awaiting orders.

The guards stopped their fuss near the guns, froze next to a bunch of boxes. Two sat on turret chairs.

The rain intensified and now it has become angrier — it was noisy in jets, breaking on stones and earth, grumbling.

Ppak looked back.

At the top of the site, behind a high stone staircase, several machine-gun crews are located, machine gun muzzle stuck out, the yellow helmets of the guards shone, and no voices were heard in the growing noise of rain.

It seemed to him that now came a certain moment, that very minute when a person should say everything.

The most important thing.

That hurts and hurts always.

And Ppak said. Turning towards the anti-aircraft gun, he spoke unusually loudly, and even shrilly:

  * Guardsmen! I want you to know the truth. Maybe you already know her, but ... Now they'll come here to take your lives. And they will pick them up. You never had a choice. I suggest you to everyone who does not want to die here, leave. You will die anyway, but later. None of us will be left alive and the alignment of forces is not in our favor. I am waiting.

He fell silent and the sound of rain absorbed all the surrounding sounds.

Ppak waited a few minutes.

None of the guardsmen moved, and none of them left.

Behind Ppak, a high voice sounded:

  * They are coming!

A young guardsman, still quite a boy, ran to him. He ran down the stone steps of the stairs, with his right hand holding his yellow helmet on his head.

Ran up.

  * They are coming, Mr. Ppak! They are coming! They are coming. Forty-five goals. They will come out on the east side.

  * Good,- Ppak looked at the commander girl, said nothing to her, and turning to the side of an anti-aircraft gun sticking out in the dark, he screamed.- Listen to me. They will be here soon. Now no masters, no subordinates. We will die equal. We are betrayed by liars, but we are not obliged to betray each other! Nobody can take this away from us. We have come to this world. Like our fathers. Our grandfathers, everything was taken away before their birth, and we also did not choose. We just lived. How do all who come to this world live. Now we are leaving. And this is also not our choice, but we can leave our cargo here. Forgive me everyone I offended, I'm sorry. I am ashamed. But I can't change anything. Forgive and say goodbye to each other.- Ppak looked into the narrow face of the girl, and asked her.- Where do you want to die, sister?

  * Let me die here?

She did not say "Mr. Ppak."

Her young face was smiling, her bright eyes were wide open and seemed to look in surprise.

  * I allow.

And he smiled back at her, easily and freely, and laughed with a dry, creaky laugh, and felt how it was immediately easy, as if dirty and smelly water had drained from his soul.

Smiling, he looked up at the sky, and it no longer seemed to Ppak as heavy as it had seemed recently. Somewhere behind him, where machine-gun crews were located, voices and laughter were heard.

"- May it be so. It's good that everything is so. "

Assault shuttles appeared at once.

Bright, multi-colored lights emerged from behind low clouds, stretched out in a line, flew one above the other.

Almost festive and funny.

Lights in the sky.

As a child, he loved to look at such lights ...

"\- Beautiful," Ppak managed to think.

The anti-aircraft gun opened fire, tu, tu, tu ... A long, narrow flame burst from the trunk of the.

Tu, tu, ...

The noise of rain mixed with the rumble of cannonade and the subtle ringing of empty shells falling on the stone. The dark city froze in horror.

To the approaching lights in the sky, long light needles were carried away, the smoke crawled into the rain like fog.

Heavy machine guns standing on the towers, their bursts merged with the continuous firing of anti-aircraft gun.

A second passed — another, and the multi-colored heavenly lights were illuminated by other lights — bright red.

Assault shuttles fired from their plasma guns.

An all-sinking, crackling fire fell on the square and the Directory building, and an unprecedented roar and brilliance shook the whole city.

A short fiery blow from the sky, swept the Directory building into pieces, scattered its molten stones far from the blocks, turning the entire space around him into a giant, burning funnel ...

******* *******

Een Fa walked through deep puddles, thrashing dirty water with his boots, and looked at the helmet of the guardsman walking ahead, on which the glare of the spotlights of the nearest assault shuttle glittered.

They march to let the city, exhausted by life, die.

The night, streaked with heavy rain, was shaken by the loud voice of the representative of the CCW:

  * Let all unhealthy, all sick die! Do not be ashamed. You are the orderlies of this world. Bring them death, let them rest in it. You will cleanse this world of rot and give birth to a new and strong one. Take the women and let them give birth to your children. We will educate them ourselves. They will be clean and healthy. You are the New Dawn! Down with doubt. Down with the false shame, let all the weak die! Your time has come!

Een Fa carries a carbine in his hands. His form is wet and hangs on his shoulders like a dirty rag.

His thoughts, like a dumb cry, run through his head.

"\- It will never end. Now it never ends. Never!..."

There ahead, in the thick darkness of black quarters numbed with horror, he already sees his future, as hopeless as this dead sky above his head.

Guardsmen march, carbines tremble in their hands.

Left, left, left ...

The empty eye sockets of black windows look at the guards.

What did you bring us- help, life, hope?

Left, left, left ...

Do not ask them for anything, do not hide in your stuffy closets.

Open the door.

They brought you death.

Een walks, a cold, brilliant carbine shakes in his hands, and a voice rumbles over the same heads as his head:

Bring them death! This is the life of your future! Down with doubt! We have no time to doubt. You are the New Dawn! You are the New World! ...

******* *******

PART THREE.

Star of Hope.

Chapter 1.

The cruiser "Arrow".

Sixty second day of flight.

Assistant to the captain of the cruiser "Arrow" - zaryadin, Glack Nou, woke up and opened his eyes.

The darkness in his cabin seemed alive, as if someone big and intangible had filled the space with himself and stood next to him, looking and studying a man.

Glack was lying on his back and looking into the dull gray haze of the ceiling, listening to his feelings. It seemed to him that he woke up from a jolt.

Jolt.

He closed his eyes.

No, rather it was like a wave rising and falling.

As if you are floating on water, on the vast sea, the Big Star shines brightly and the light wind carries splashes of salt water. And suddenly a wave comes, gentle and fast, it lifts you up, swallows your face, fills your mouth and nostrils with water, and then falls, and goes down. And you, as if losing weight, glide over a shiny, azure surface, and fall, fall ...

Glack opened his eyes again.

He imagined the sea - clear and sparkling in the warm light of the day, free from everything, to the horizon, and he swims forward, slowly and measuredly, rows his hands, and a transparent, deep sky looks at him from above with a bottomless, indifferent look.

He imagined the sea - clear and sparkling in the warm light of the day, free from everything, to the horizon, and he swims forward, slowly and measuredly, rows his hands, and a transparent, deep sky looks at him from above with an empty, indifferent look.

Strange awakening.

But the desire to sleep did not pass. Glack was between sleep and reality, despite the fact that he had already realized where he was.

The silence faintly rustled in his ears, the rustle of invisible wings.

He suddenly remembered his son.

Tim.

Little Tim stands in front of him in a green school suit, his freckled face shines with joy.

  * Dad, did you become a cruiser captain? True? Are you a cruiser captain?

  * Yes. But this is only a big secret, son, - Glack, with his index finger, touches his son's nose and laughs.- Look, don't tell your friends.

The boy looks admiringly at him with blue eyes like a sea and says quietly:

  * Dad, I won't tell anyone. This is a big secret. Why is this a big secret? Everyone should know that you are the captain of a cruiser!

  * Because I have a secret mission, and no one should know about it yet. Promise me son.

  * Dad, I promise. And then, when you get home, can you talk about it? Mack from a neighboring yard, a badass and a bouncer. I want him to know about you and your cruiser! He will shut up right away.

  * You can't say "shut up".

  * Yes. I can imagine what his face will be.

  * What will his face be?

Tim puffs out his cheeks and bulges his eyes.

He laughs looking at his son ...

The darkness in the cabin is dull and some kind of stranger.

Glack remembered the thin face of Necul Del, who had appointed him captain, his sharp, crooked nose, like a bird's beak.

He remembered his words:

  * This offer is a sign of trust to you Glack. You agreed to a case that could cost you a head. But I'm afraid that our heads will fly earlier. You are appointed captain of the new "Arrow" cruiser. Details of the expedition I'll tell you now ...

Appointed as captain.

Glack Nou lay in his bed, feeling his back numb, thin needles already weakly tingling his skin, hinting that he should turn on his side.

He did not move.

His thoughts and feelings came to life and intertwined into an incomprehensible tangle for him, they returned him to the recent past.

The cruiser "Arrow".

Pride of the Space Fleet.

And he is appointed captain ...

This is a very unexpected proposition for a major.

Although if think carefully, must admit that he had everything for this purpose.

And character, and experience, and diligence and mind.

Even when he was a pilot on the small rescue spacecraft "Agat", Glack showed himself from the most positive side.

Then there was the Storm spaceship, and the raid to the Splash station, which was in the Ice Belt.

How many people did they save that day?

Glack remembered the faces of those whom he saved - scientists, technicians, laboratory assistants ...He suddenly remembered the narrow metal pipe of the duct, gloomy and stuffy, and the bitter smell of burning, and a beam of a flashlight rushing from side to side in his hand.

And deafening, hoarse breathing escaping from his lungs, and sticky sweat impregnating his jumpsuit, and almost complete confidence that he did not have enough air to crawl to the end of the non-working duct. He was already sure that he could not physically end this painful throw into the middle part of the ship, and that he would die here in this shiny tube, and the passengers, panicked, would die later.

He opened his eyes.

Consciousness was muddied from a dream, images popped into his memory, like pictures in a children's book, by themselves, and with these pictures thoughts and feelings came - strange and painful.

Darkness swam before him — viscous as jelly, and in this jelly Glack distinguished between tiny, pink sparks, small and timid, almost on the verge of visibility. Like luminous midges, they swarmed around and disappeared to reappear.

  * Your appointment is delayed, Glack. The tugboat Jilk Ri is appointed captain of the Strela. You will be the assistant captain.

And that's all.

They consulted and decided.

They appointed another.

And whom?

Former captain of a tugboat!

Almost crazy, who would never have been accepted into any of the Fleets!

Deep Fleet for the crazy.

Deep Fleet is a grave for pilots.

Everyone knew about it.

And they appointed the captain of the new cruiser, namely the crazy captain of the tugboat!

Glack groaned painfully, closed his eyes. His mind wanted to break out of the shackles of a strange dream, return to reality, but continued to get stuck in a half-nap and drown in the mud of delirium.

He was sweating.

Glack turned around, rolled over onto his right side, his left hand remained behind his back.

Towing vehicle.

He saw his dossier.

As an assistant to the captain, Glack studied all the personal affairs of the "Arrow" crew.

All fifteen.

He read Captain Ri's last file.

It was like a fiction.

A strange incident.

The incident with the tugboat "Far" and the death of other tugboats in the Ice Belt was called "The Accident". Hallucinations, a distorted perception, a forgery of reality and a miraculous, almost impossible rescue of the crew of the "Far".

The Big Star knows where they were brought then.

Unclear.

The incident.

And the captain of the "Far" becomes the captain of the cruiser "Arrow".

Glack Nou groaned again, quietly and lingeringly. He wanted to wake up and recover, free himself from an obsessive sleep ...

Jilk Ri.

And before that, he was only the second pilot of the "Wind" spacecraft.

The dead spacecraft.

And earlier, he delivered the Black Malaria vaccine to Sigun.

The only one of eight pilots.

Glack, being a pilot himself, admitted that in those circumstances, to conduct a two-seater "Wasp" class spaceship on Sigun was a daring and courageous affair. And almost impracticable.

Nearly.

At that time, the Sigun had just entered the meteor shower sector, and the planet became inaccessible to interplanetary communications. Dead Season. And there a deadly epidemic broke out.

Then, the Emergency Management Commission found out how the virus got onto the planet.

The captain of the cargo spaceship was removed from office for violation of sanitary standards upon arrival at the Tsakl.

But that was later.

And in those days, time took many lives and it was necessary to hurry, to accomplish the impossible, and break into an unattainable world - bring a vaccine, save those who could still be saved ...

A transparent, sparkling with myriads of pink spark-spray wave appeared and picked his up, carried his higher, higher, higher, to the sky itself, to the bottomless haze of trembling light, there, into infinite nothing.

Jilk Ri.

No, he was not the only one who flew to the Sigun that day.

There were eight of them.

Eight volunteers.

Eight ships.

The firsts died before reaching the planet.

But they were not snotty boys, they were experienced, seasoned, life, pilots.

Their "Wasps" exploded in a collision with asteroids. Someone managed to get closer to the goal. Others disappeared at the beginning of the path ...

... Higher, higher, higher, higher Glack is carried away on a sparkling crest of a wave, cannot stop.

Sparkling pink, tiny, elusive, disappearing sparks next to him, and he sees light falling upon him - deep, gray, ancient ...

Jilk Ri was the fifth in a row, and the only one who survived.

He went through death.

He made his way there.

And he landed his broken "Wasp", somewhere in the vicinity of the spaceport.

And for this leadership of the planet, he nominated Ri for the Commonwealth Council, as a representative of the CCW.

Glack remembered the captain of the Ryaboy rescue spacecraft, who arrived at the passenger spacecraft when it was already saved.

  * Glack,- he said to him.- These people owe you their life.

  * This is my job,- Glack answered him.

And smiled.

They handed him the medal "For salvation in space."

Jilk Ri was just lucky.

Jilk Ri probably didn't even realize the severity of the danger when he led his Wasp through death.

He played.

Young and absurd.

Shuffler.

Gamer.

Glack has seen such "gamers" many times.

Glac had nothing to breathe. He was panting, in his chest, something painfully torn.

And then there was the death of the "Wind" and the gamer refused the reward for the Shigun.

And here he will play too.

And there, in a dead, ancient spaceship, ordinary luck saved their lives.

It is necessary to stop this absurd madman before he killed the crew, until he failed the mission ...

What if he dies? After all, everyone is mortal. Then he will lead the "Arrow" \- Glack Nou.

Captain Glack Nou.

Higher, higher, higher. Heaven is torn, the crest of a wave, swept up by the glow of light, takes it up and sways like a giant hump, an ancient universe ...

Can also remove the captain from controlling the ship, lock him up like a dangerous maniac, neutralize the danger ...

These thoughts and feelings suddenly ran into Glack's inner protest. Whatever happened, but for him there was an unshakable truth; the captain is a guarantee of the life of the ship.

Subordination.

Riot on the ship is a disaster.

This is worse than a fire.

And suddenly the wave froze, froze and fell sharply, rushed down, and fell into the infinity of the distant sea.

And Glack flinched.

And woke up.

Absolutely.

There were no pink sparks in the dark.

He put his hand under the pillow, felt the grooved handle of a pistol there, with a thumb removed the safety catch and pulled out his hand, put the weapon in front of him in the darkness.

He wanted to say "who is here," but his voice disappeared, a stifled, hoarse croak escaped from his chest:

  * Wh... is here?

Wet from sweat, he stared into a dull, dark emptiness, listened, but heard nothing except the beat of his own heart.

The strange nightmare is over.

His cabin was empty.

******* *******

Jilk stopped and listened.

In the wide, brightly lit corridor, stretching far ahead, it was quiet and empty. Light panels under a high, white ceiling poured white, soft light onto the gloss of the gray floor.

He stopped unnecessarily; he wanted to listen to the silence.

The almost deserted cruiser was always quiet, like in an empty city. On the "Arrow" it was possible to roam all day and not meet anyone. Fifteen crew members disappeared into the huge womb of the cruiser, like ghosts in the night.

The "Arrow" was not just a spaceship, it was a huge car, similar to a huge city, with its streets and neighborhoods and city blocks.

Once Jilk entered the assault hangar - a huge, bright and cool complex with long rows of launch racks for assault shuttles.

The height of the ceiling in the hangar reached two hundred and fifty meters, and the entire space of the hangar resembled a giant cube filled with tiers and stairs, elevators in transparent tube-shafts that went to the very top, and narrow starting racks resting on steel, mighty truss.

True, the shuttles themselves were not here.

Jilk then walked for a long time along the assault hangar and, stopping at the gangways of one of the tiers, cried out loudly:

  * Ege, gee, gee! ...

And then he listened to the rolling echo of his voice reflected from the gray, armored walls ...

A weak, cool wind blew along the corridor; ventilation systems worked.

Jilk smiled. It was good for him to stand like that, in the middle of an empty corridor, in a quiet cruiser, plunged into "night", and listen to the rustle of the wind.

On the "Arrow" came the "night".

He reached the end of the South block, turned right and, passing the "training classes" section, found himself in front of the elevator platform. Fifteen minutes later, Jilk Ri reached the technical sector, where the block of "backup systems" of the cruiser was located.

Today was Wednesday, the day on duty bypass of reserve systems by the captain.

His job title.To be honest, Jilk didn't understand anything in the backup systems, as well as in microelectronics systems. But in the charter of the cruiser this paragraph was inscribed, which means that be kind, go and see.

And Jilk came here every Wednesday and looked.

On Fridays, he made an initial visit to the block where the "Barrier" installation was located, but not alone, but with the chief engineer of the installation, Loria Molly.

He stopped at the entrance to the airlock filter — a high, two-man-tall manhole, with a red warning emblem in the center — "only for the ship's captain".

The emblem depicted the palm of a man red as blood color.

Two large light panels of a wide platform brightly illuminated the entire space around. The flashing red eye of the indicator looked at Jilk from the surface of the hatch, and the black ball of the controller examined the approaching captain.

  * Open the hatch,- ordered Jilk.

The armored hatch flinched, froze for a second, and slowly crawled into the wall, opening the passage to the gateway room.

It was a small room, brightly lit, with pale beige walls and devoid of any objects and appliances. Jilk entered the airlock, and the hatch shut silently behind him. For a few seconds he stood in front of the second-internal hatch, and looking at its polished surface.

As usual, the hatch also quietly stepped aside, opening Jilk's a passage to the backup unit.

The control system recognized him, and missed it.

Jilk managed to take a few steps - he got out of the airlock and was already walking along the wide aisle between the shelves illuminated by red lamps, when he suddenly rocked.

It seemed to him that a slight dizziness suddenly appeared - the floor beneath his feet swayed forward slightly, and a nasty, illegible dullness appeared in his eyes, as if everything around had lost its sharpness and swam viscously and nauseously.

This lasted no more than a second, one second, and now he returned to his normal state, stood firmly on his feet and clearly distinguished objects around.

Jilk froze in place.

Expecting repeated dizziness, he did not move, he listened to his feelings. But nothing happened.

The back-up hall met him with a loud, monotonous noise, as if he had fallen into a giant bee hive - a quiet, even sound of buzzing electricity.

Jilk went down the aisle.

Radio lamps shone, some brightly, others muffled. They were mounted on large panels, one to the other. Bundles of multi-colored wires descended from panels with shiny, metal edges and went somewhere inside the shelves, being lost there among others, the same bundles of wire. The racks rose up to the ceiling, to a height of one hundred meters, interconnected by service ladders, and shone with red, saturated light.

It was hot here.

Like a summer, sultry day.

Somewhere the ventilation of the cooling system rustled.

"- I have to say this to Guen,"- thought Jilk, walking down the aisle and aimlessly looking at the panels with lamps. "- There's nothing wrong with that. I think so. Slightly rocked. "

Without understanding anything in electronics, Jilk had a deep respect for those who created this ship and systems that gave life to the ship.

Here, in the "reserve sector", confidence was felt in the reliability of the cruiser in any unforeseen circumstances. Of course, all these radio lamps, antediluvian capacitors sticking out on panels with steel columns, all this electronic medievalism might have seemed ridiculous, but if microelectronics failed, that's what will save the crew from death. The backup systems will automatically go into operation, and will take over the management and provision of all cruiser systems.

Given the features of the assignment for "Arrow", these systems can be very useful.

However, in his entire life in space, Jilk has never encountered the need to directly use backup spacecraft systems, although he heard from someone that somewhere such a need arose.

Somewhere.

Someone.

Perhaps this is a lie.

When hundreds of years ago on the Big Star there was a Big Flash, then in all the worlds of the Commonwealth all microelectronic devices failed.

At once cosmonautics, energy, and knowledge stored on electronic media were lost, the entire social structure collapsed. Production was buried.

It took a lot of effort for the worlds to regain what they lost. It was worth an incredible effort, and very big sacrifices.

Now, backup systems are ubiquitous, but that case if the disaster ever recurs again.

He turned left, went up to the flight of stairs, where the steel staircase went to the upper tier of service, and was cut off by a short platform. Jilk easily climbed the pockmarked stairs, crossed the platform and turned, climbed the stairs even higher.

Third tier. Ahead, on either side of the aisle, everything was flooded with red-pink light from the lamps. Jilk unbuttoned his overalls collar \- it was hot, and went on.

There was nothing interesting around, the former monotony of shelving and lamps. The polished steel of the handrails shone with red reflections.

Everything is as usual.

Suddenly, Jilk's gaze found something superfluous in the world of devices.

Shadow.

He continued to walk, slowing his steps and peering at something standing in front of him.

Shadow.

There, in front of him, a few dozen steps, in the aisle, between the shining of lamps, someone stood.

Jilk stopped.

Another second or two, and now his hand reached for a holster with a pistol hanging on his belt.

He inevitably peered into an inappropriate obstacle here, slowly, as if not wanting to frighten away the game, he took out a pistol from his holster.

Now Jilk could clearly see the dark, without any details silhouette of a man, as if cut from a sheet of black paper, with the only difference being that his edges were not clear, as if they were blurring and melting, creating a slight dimming around the Shadow.

Jilk's breathing became intermittent.

The gun is big and heavy, he was already holding it in front of him. A loud flick of a fuse sounded in the narrow space between the shelves, like a shot.

  * Stand!- Jilk's voice croaked loudly.

It seemed to him that it was getting even hotter around; sweat saturated the overalls and tickled his back.

  * Don `t move!

Of course, this could not be a man.

He remembered that it was impossible to shoot in the reserve unit.

To run?

From whom?

Where to?

Jilk took the first uncertain steps forward.

The shadow did not go away, it remained in its place, a dark ghost in the red glow of lamps.

He walked about twenty meters, continuing to examine the stranger, and not knowing what to prepare for.

A few more steps.

And then the shadow disappeared.

The shadow has evaporated.

It was as if someone had turned off her image.

Jilk looked back. No, there was no one behind him. He looked into the space between the racks, down, onto another tier.

Nothing unusual. Having reached the place where he had just seen a ghost, Jilk looked around, and put his pistol into a holster, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his palm.

The heart was beating heavily in the chest, it was noisy in the ears.

After standing for several minutes, he decided to explore the other tiers.

Looking around and peering into the aisles, he climbed all the stairs and ramps, visited the tiers at the top and bottom of the block, climbed into the distribution ventilation shaft and looked for a long time into its black, empty interior, blown by hot, dry air.

Everything is quiet and empty.

Jilk left the backup room.

******* *******

The corridors he walked on were still empty.

Time has passed far after midnight.

Jilk stopped at the crossroads, stood thinking about where to go now.

On the one hand, if what happened to him is a figment of his imagination, a hallucination, then Jilk should tell the doctor about it. And immediately.

On the other hand, a ghost could be the impact of an Object.

Jilk stood looking at his feet.

More than two months of flight passed, there were no accidents.

Until now. The "Barrier" worked flawlessly.

He made a decision and walked along the right corridor, past the closed doors of the living cabins, in which no one had yet settled. Going down the elevator to the twenty-seventh tier, and going out onto a platform submerged in soft, pink light, he headed for the ship's medical complex. Jilk walked past the glass walls of the operating rooms, insulators, past storage rooms and bulky appliances, the purpose of which he did not know.

Seeing in the corridor in front of him an unclear figure in gray, Jilk flinched in surprise.

This figure turned out to be a florian doctor, Guen Kha.

Not any ghosts.

The doctor stood, leaning his shoulder against the wall, near the open compartment door, arms crossed over his chest and looking at the approaching Jilk with his green eyes.

Jilk walked up to him.

  * Good night, doc. I look, are you awake?

Jilk tried to smile at ease, but it turned out badly.

Guen silently grinned in response, nodded his head toward the open door, they say come in, captain.

The captain came in.

In the spacious, brightly lit compartment, with a white, dull ceiling and the same white walls, there was everything\- a desk, small and littered with papers, all kinds of boxes, some shiny little thing, a huge transparent cabinet filled with tools and drugs, and in the corner on the right, a machine incomprehensible to Jilk was piling- a ball in the height of a person, white, like the walls of the compartment, with a small oval window and a bundle of wires extending to a narrow and long control panel.

To the left in the wall was a huge, round porthole.

There was blackness and stars in the porthole.

The compartment smelled strongly of medicine.

Jilk sat at the table in one of the two armchairs.

Guen closed the front door, went to the table and sat across from Jilk.

  * Tell me,- said the florian.

Guan Kha was sixty eight years old. Given that Florians live on average up to eighty years old, he already had an advanced age. The doctor was always restrained, spoke little, and had an ironic character. It was not difficult for Jilk to communicate with him, although they did not meet so often.

  * Well?

  * So, I came to visit you, - Jilk leaned back in his chair, put his left hand on the table. - I thought maybe you are still awake.

  * Not sleeping.

  * Contemplated the corridor?

  * Waiting for you. I heard you from the elevator.

Jilk mentally marveled at the florian's hearing — the elevator platform was quite far from here.

  * Tell me.

  * I just stopped by. I went to inspect the reserve, walked by.

  * Past? From the eighth tier?- Guen grinned into his thin mustache.- Don't talk.

  * Do you have tea here? Or do you drink potions alone?

They laughed at the same time.

The doctor got up, walked to the opposite wall, where the catering department was located, and, a minute later, returned to the table, carrying two glasses. He set one glass in front of Jilk, and left another for himself.

Jilk drank from the glass.

Tea was hot.

  * How's the crew feeling?- Asked Jilk.

  * Everyone feels normal. Today I had Aaoli. So came to dinner. Your assistant has not appeared here for four days. Tell him to come for a physical examination.

  * I will say it. So everything is in order with us ... I hope this will continue. Loria says the Barrier is as solid as a rock.

They were silent for a while.

  * How long will you pretend to be a fool?- Guen looked at him with an unblinking gaze of green eyes, his narrow pupils were already narrower, like two thin slits.

Jilk set the glass on the smooth surface of the table and said dryly:

  * I just saw a ghost.

The doctor said nothing, silently waited for the continuation.

Jilk told him what had happened in the backup unit.

Leaning back in his chair, Guen spoke:

  * This is bad. So the "Barrier" is not such a rock. And this is just the beginning, Jilk. We have so far managed to avoid the influence of the Object on the crew. Now the quiet days are over. We have been flying for two months now, and the same number remains to fly. Apparently the impact of the Object on us will begin to progress, which means ... Do you have dizziness? Can there be bleeding? Insomnia?

  * In the reserve, my head was spinning, for a short while. I thought I would fall. Then I saw a ghost.

  * Either you are the first on the list, or the rest are silent about their problems.

  * We were told that the "Barrier" is a one hundred percent guarantee against the impact of the Object.

  * We have many who like to talk.

For a while they silently drank tea.

Guen Kha looked somewhere behind Jilk's back. What he was thinking was incomprehensible.

  * It stinks of fear, Jilk.

  * I was sweating.

  * Yeah. Was there no bleeding?

  * Gu, I would not be silent about this.

  * I hope so. Always carry a gun with you. Now always.

  * I already thought about it.

  * If a florian attacks you, he will turn your neck. You yourself know that. Apparently we can say that our time has gone. Vacations are over.

  * Gu, I don't think that, someone, will start attacking someone.

  * Keep the gun to yourself!- Guen raised his voice.

  * I know.

  * Come on, Jilk, I'll examine you.

  * Maybe tomorrow? Now it's too late and it's not urgent.

The florian thought, nodded his head, and said:

  * Good. Send me your assistant tomorrow. This humble guy.

  * I will send him.

Jilk got to his feet, sipped again from his glass, and set it on the table.

  * See you tomorrow, Gu.

  * Tomorrow has already arrived, Jilk.

He went out into the empty corridor and headed for the elevator. His mood did not improve. On the contrary, after talking with Guen, he became even more anxious. Jilk reached his cabin twenty minutes later, closed the door behind him and began to pull off his overalls, wet from sweat.

The luminous clock dial on the wall showed half past four in the morning.

Tomorrow he was to inspect the "Barrier" installation, together with Loria, and then he needed to check two large shuttles ...

Something tickled under Jilk's nose and quickly shifted to his chin. At that moment, bending over, he took off his jumpsuit from his right foot and looked at the floor, and there on the floor, right in front of him, Jilk saw two red blots — one, two, then three ...

He quickly raised his hand to his face, ran his fingers under his nose, looked, blood was already flowing down his neck and dripping on his chest.

Throwing his head back, Jilk quickly went to the shower.

Crumpled jumpsuit, in bloody spots, remained lying on the floor.

******* *******

Chapter 2.

The eighty-fourth day of the flight.

Dreams and reality.

Jilk Ri was asleep.

He had a nightmare.

He tried to scream, but his lips seemed to grow together, and his tongue to stick to his larynx.

A stifled groan, an agonizing and strangled sound, flowed from his nostrils along with red blood. There, in his nightmare, he stood in the middle of the sidewalk, wide and brightly illuminated by the setting Big Star, and past the high overpass, with a loud noise of wheels, dissecting the calm air of Dawn, metro cars rushing sparkling with pink and white light.

Passers-by stopped and stood with their heads up. From everywhere he heard alarming exclamations, quickly turning into panic.

This could not be!

It doesn't happen!

Jilk looked up at the sky.

And there, in a clear and blue sky, a new Big Star appeared and was growing rapidly, as if a mysterious wizard created it with the wave of his magic wand.

Jilk was not himself.

He looked now through the eyes of Jilk Jr., felt him with childlike feelings, fresh, unclouded concerns, and all that accompanied Jilk all these years. He looked, and saw what his son is seeing now.

The new Big Star was growing.

She appeared in the sky as a small and bright, pink dot.

Star.

He did not immediately notice this star.

At first, Jilk Jr. heard someone exclaim, looked to the side from where the sound came from, and saw a florian standing at the window of a flower shop, pointing with his hand, somewhere up, between the skyscrapers, to the place where the two overpasses sparkling with metal left behind the mirrored walls of houses.

The florian was dressed in a colorful, wide-necked summer shirt and dark green trousers that looked funny with light beige sandals.

Jill Jr smiled.

The funny florian uncle looked like an artist.

And only then he looked where the "artist" was pointing now.

Into the sky.

She grew up - quickly swollen, red, unexpected here and now.

And he saw a star. Every second, its color and brightness changed, from crimson to pale red, and then yellow-white, bright and defiant. And now the star from a bright point, turned into a pea, and continued to grow. Together with her, the noise grew on the street.

People and florians, adults and children, men and women, were already shouting. Someone ran somewhere.

Jilk Jr. stood still, and his mother held his left hand, and he felt her palm, almost painfully, squeezed his fingers.

  * Mom, what is this?

Mom didn't answer.

The star has grown to the size of an apple. Her light had already blinded eyes, and played with bright highlights on the windows, flared up more and more ...

Someone pushed Jilk Jr. and mom grabbed her son with both hands and saved him from falling.

  * Mom, is this a spaceship?

  * Not.

Jilk tosses and turns in his sleep, growls, wants to scream, but the scream gets stuck and stalls in him. Blood smeared his chin and cheeks.

He writhes, as if from severe and unbearable pain, bangs his feet - a white sheet has long slipped to his feet, and its edge hangs to the floor.

  * M, ... m, ... mo, ... mo, ...

A green nightlight dimly shines above the desk — a small ball in the wall, and the entire cabin is immersed in a calm, peaceful dark green tone, turning black closer to the corners of the cabin.

  * U, ... U, ... mo, ... om ...

  * Don't look, don't look there, son!- Mom pressed him to her, covered his head with her hands, and he feels trembling and fear in her.

Jilk's head turns to the right, his bloody lips are compressed.

  * Do not be afraid, do not be afraid! ...

Jilk Jr. can't turn his head and look up - mom holds him tightly, clutching him to her.

He sees only a narrow gap between her elbow of his left hand and the fingers of his right, which lie on his face, and there, something bright, yellow-white, dazzling to the pain in his eyes, fills the world with a fierce, burning light.

He feels the heat rising from above, and mom crouched on the asphalt of the sidewalk, and Jilk Jr. sat down on her knees, pressed to her mother's chest, and her face is above his crown.

  * Son, son ...

And then a roar deafens him, a flurry of screams from the street - angry, desperate and terrible ...

Jilk screamed and woke up.

He sat on the bed, staring into the dimly lit wall across from himself, eyes wide open. Jilk often breathed, as if from a long run, and his hands were trembling.

For several infinitely long minutes, he tried to recover from a nightmare and return to reality, where everything was real and thorough.

  * This is a dream.

He got to the floor and went to the bathroom, Jilk soon returned to the bedroom barefoot and in his underpants clean and fresh. First of all, he took from the table a blue package of tablets that Gruen gave him, opened it and took out a shiny, foil plate with three rows of red, round tablets soldered into it. Not enough three.

Jilk drank two at once, instead of the one recommended by the doctor, put the packaging on the table and went to the cupboard built into the wall and took out a new jumpsuit from it. For a minute, Jilk gazed aimlessly at his crumpled clothes. There was no shiver in his hands.

A round clock on the wall, showing 07.34.

He went to the mirror hanging next to the cupboard and peered for a long time at his reflection. The nose turned red and a little swollen.

Otherwise, Jilk looked as usual. Only in his eyes was there an expression of concern.

No wonder.

  * It will pass. This is just a dream,- he said quietly, looking in the mirror at the movement of his lips.- You have to be realistic.

He tried to smile, too wide, too false.

Twenty minutes later he was already entering the cruiser's wardroom with a brisk pace.

As usual.

Cabin-company "Arrow's" was a spacious room, as a public library. There were three long tables in it, covered with velvet, white tablecloths. The wardroom was illuminated by bright, yellow light panels. In the corner, to the right of the front door, stood a big pot with a branching plant, a wooden lacquered bookcase, which could well pass for antiques, stretched along its wall. The billiard table, on curved, carved legs, was located almost at the bar counter. There were no portholes here. Several oil paintings in massive gold frames hung on light green walls. The paintings depicted the historical plots of Dawn and Floria.

Jilk considered these paintings "daubs".

There were twenty-two such cabin companies on the cruiser. But the first, small crew of "Arrow's", chose this one.

There were three here.

Chief Engineer of the "Barrier", twenty-nine-year-old Loria Molly is a tall, blond woman with a round, pink-faced face and snub nose. She was dressed in a white jumpsuit, and a silver hairpin glittered in her hair. Crossing her legs, Loria sat back in a soft chair and looked at Jilk as he entered, from under a long, light bang. In front of her stood a white, porcelain cup on a saucer.

The second who sat at the table was Guen Kha.

He drank from a weighty glass mug and, as usual, was dressed in a dark cthsq jumpsuit.

He greeted Jilk with a nod of his head, and sipped again from the mug.

The third in the wardroom was the cruiser's artillery chief, Major Jock Suny; dawnian, fifty-seven years old, not tall, with already noticeable baldness, which he tried to hide by combing his hair back. It looked funny. Plus, on his long face, Suni had a big nose with "potatoes" and gray eyes "bulging" - round and big. At the time Jilk appeared in the wardroom, major Suny stood by the bar and conjured something.

The light above the deserted tables was dimmed, which made the atmosphere in the wardroom not in the morning sleepy.

Jilk sat next to the florian and greeted Molly.

She silently nodded in response.

  * Was your nose bloody again?- The doctor asked him.- The smell of blood.

  * Yes.

  * Do you drink the pills I gave you?

  * I drink.

  * By the clock?- Guen set his mug down on the table and looked at Jilk with some kind of sloth.

  * Not always.

  * What a fool.

  * I forget, Gu.

  * If the blood starts to flow not from the nose, but inside your head, then you will die. And you will stop forgetting.

Loria giggled and winked at Jilk with her right eye. She often did not act as a scientist and chief engineer.

He thought of her like that.

A major came up to their table.

First, he set a tall, glass goblet on the table, then nodded to Jilk and when he sat down on a chair next to Loria Molly, he said hello:

  * I wish you good health, Captain.

  * Good morning, Major,\- Jilk answered him.

Suni loved when he was addressed in this way, "major."

An appeal to him by "Suni" or "Jock" was welcomed by him, not always, but only at certain moments. For example, during lunch, he was not opposed to calling "Suni" to him, and considered the "Major" to be inappropriate. But his face acquired a happy expression, if before going to bed he was told, "see you tomorrow, Jock." In this manner of communication, he had some kind of system of his own and Jilk long and reluctantly tried to figure this out during the first weeks of the flight. Otherwise, Jock Sunee was not eccentric.

Often he was stiff, like an old grandfather, and sometimes grumbled.

He complained to Guein about back pain, but he never came to see him with these pains. But with the second doctor of "Arrow's", the dawnianess's Tresa Iga, he always flirted, did not complain about anything, and often made ambiguous jokes.

Jilk suspected that the major liked her.

Major Suni also loved to drink wine.

  * I must tell you, captain,- the major began to speak, raising his glass of wine.- You are a strange captain.

  * He and dawnian, strange,- said Guen with a grin.

  * And why do you think I'm weird?

  * You, captain, cannot keep discipline on the ship in steel pliers,- Suni took a long sip from the glass, the bright-burgundy wine in the glass considerably decreased. It can be said that you act relaxingly on the crew. From the very beginning, put everything on "you" ... I understand that you are not a military man, but a habit - the second character ... But we a military expedition, and such familiarity can lead to disastrous results.

  * Major,\- Jilk smiled.\- I am completely calm for the fate of our expedition, knowing that we have iron guys like you. The old guard will not give out.

  * In vain do you scoff, - Major Suni was pleased.- If necessary, then I will not look at your position and will tell you openly ...

  * How are things with our guns?- Jilk asked him.- Is the gunpowder wet?

  * Gunpowder is not wet,- the major twisted the glass in his hand, and said.\- My guys will do it right. If necessary. You know what makes me most happy on our "Arrow"?

  * The absence of the previous bosses, I suppose?- Guen looked at Suni.- Does it seem like you had any disagreements with the captain on "Stubborn"?

  * This is gossip, \- the major has become more serious.- Fiction envious and fools. At "Arrow" I am most pleased ... wine! On our cruiser we were given not wine, but a natural swill. The only day in the week when it was possible to take a break from the service was clouded by this. And here...- he looked interestedly at the contents of his glass.- Here, real experts in their field worked. Specialists! I would even say- gourmets. The wine was selected with taste and, what can I say, with a specific knowledge ... Hmm. Specifics. Good wine. Great wine ...

  * Major, from the very beginning I said that in the cruiser's wardroom, the treatment will be free from ranks and ranks. But you are a stubborn person.

  * For me, the word captain is the law. But ...- Suni looked at Jilk at the top of his glass, then took a couple of sips of wine and continued his speech.\- But for me, a personal approach to business is the most important thing. Subordination is not just a formality, it is an urgent need ...

  * Major, you started drinking early,- Guen looked critically at the red face of the major.- It's not yet nine in the morning, and you are already cheerful.

  * Doctor. I have a day off and I have to relax, so that the rest of the time I will be in exceptional shape!

  * You are already drunk,- and Guen laughed out loud.

  * It's nine o'clock for you in the morning, and I'm on my feet from five in the morning. Habit, you know. Hmm. So what are we talking about?

  * We talked about gunpowder,- said Jilk.

  * Ah-ah ... Ah, what is gunpowder? - the major became thoughtful, and an expression of reverie appeared on his flushed face. - It was in the old days, many centuries ago ... Gunpowder was used in artillery ... And, what What did you mean by that, captain? Well, gunpowder. What, gunpowder?

******* *******

  * So the "Barrier" is working fine,- Gruen said, looking at the face of Loria Molly.- No surprises.

Major Suni left long ago, leaving his empty glass on the table.

The time was 10.48.

  * The "Barrier" works in the calculated mode, doctor,- she answered calmly.- What happens to us has nothing to do with the "Barrier".

  * I read about the effect of your installation on living organisms, Lora.- The florian did not take his green eyes from her.- It says about "minor violations in the hematopoiesis system and blood vessels." So it was said there.

  * But only minor violations. No more.

  * I do not consider nosebleeds to be "mild disorders". I can give you a look at the blood tests of the crew. There are still studies of internal organs by external devices. There has been a steady trend towards pathology. But we still have a long time to fly.

  * Doctor, I'm not a doctor - I'm a technician and physicist. The test results of the "Barrier" were studied by us, in the most thorough way ...

  * But not fully. So?

  * There is a technique ...

  * I understand, I understand. The physicist from me, frankly speaking, is unimportant, but I can assure you, Laura, that if the dynamics of the "Barrier's" impact on the crew continues in the current progression, then the "Arrow" will reach the Object without us.- Guen tapped the table with a sharp claw of the index finger of his left hand, knock, knock, knock.- Of course, this is my worst guess, but I have it.

  * I assure you, doc ...

  * Maybe this Object affects us in this way? - Jilk asked them.- In principle, we don't know anything about him. And the "Arrow" is already very close to him, by cosmic standards. We are literally a stone's throw from the goal.

Molly said nothing.

She looked at Jilk, without any emotion.

Guen Kha shrugged and said:

  * I don't know what exactly is killing us, but if this continues further, then all is in vain. And the hopes of those who sent us to the Object will also be in vain.

  * And I know,- Loria got up from the table, picked up her cup and saucer and headed towards the bar counter, where the catering unit stood.- Now I'm going to take a shower, and in an hour I will wait for the captain at the tenth level. Jilk, today we have the "Barrier" Inspection. Please do not be late.

Putting the dishes in the window of the machine, she calmly left the wardroom, without closing the door behind her.

  * Hmm, - Jilk straightened his legs under the table and stretched. - Well, it will be a day!

  * Do you still have dreams?

He did not answer Guen right away.

After a moment, Jilk said:

  * Dreaming. And you?

  * Today in a dream, I saw the death of Floria, Jilk. There, in a dream, all my relatives and friends died. Floria died in a nuclear fire. The cruiser "Stubborn" killed her.

  * I saw Dawn. As if through the eyes of his son, - and Jilk was silent.

The florian was silent.

His mug had long stood on the table untouched.

  * An artificial star was dropped on Dawn. In that dream. This is an Object. He somehow began to influence us, Gu.

  * We got closer to him,- the florian seemed calm.- I think about it.

  * Do you think about the Object?

Guen Kha looked directly into Jilk's face and said:

  * About the death of Floria.

  * I think this is a lie, Gu. We are already very close to the Object, and he cannot allow the "Arrow" to reach the goal. For him, this is death. The "Barrier" holds back its influence on us. But apparently, this is not enough.

  * Does he want to sow panic? Wants us to deploy a cruiser? Or so that we strangle each other? Do you want to say that?

  * Yes it. Think for yourself, Gu. With our worlds, this simply cannot be. It's impossible!

  * Why?

He did not expect this question from the doctor, and was a little confused.

  * Why, Jilk, this can't be?

  * Because it is too monstrous. It's impossible. Think yourself. From the beginning we had dreams about the death of Akavia, now Dawn and Floria! Can you believe such an opportunity in real life? I cant.

  * Too big scale? Yes?

  * You can call it that. And most importantly, all this is very ... on time. One and a half months before the end of the flight, similar dreams started to torment us! He's just hysterical! An Object.

Kha Guen hesitated, then took a deep breath and said:

  * I think so too, Jilk. Too large scale and scope. And very on time,- he finally took his mug in his hand and made a couple of sips from it.- Tea is also good here, not just wine. Loria, Jilk, is waiting for you.

  * Yes. I have to go.

Jilk left the wardroom in a nasty mood.

He tried to convince himself of the correctness of his words, which he had just said to the florian, but did not have full confidence in these words.

Jilk tried to drive away doubts from himself.

He took the elevator to the tenth tier of "Arrow" and, leaving the elevator, met Loria Molly. Leaning against the railing of the flight of stairs leading to the lower tier, the woman, without any expression on her face, looked at Jilk's approach.

  * Lead me to your palace, princess.- He smiled.

  * In the bedchamber, you mean,- Loria looked coldly into Jilk's face.

  * Nda. It was a joke, Lora.

  * Clear. Let's go to.

They took the elevator to the eighteenth tier of the spaceship, silently left on the bright platform with beige walls, and calmly walked along the wide, main corridor, past closed doors, crimson in color. On the doors hung white, glossy tablets.

Jilk read several of them while he walked silently next to Molly.

"Power-1", "Power-4", "Cartographer", "Central AR" ...

  * Lora, what do you think of the "wave"?

  * Are you talking about a dead, ancient spaceship?

  * Yes. It could be anything. "Second wave" ...- the woman shrugged vaguely .-

  * I think nothing.\- Perhaps it was something that happened to them, and what they called the "wave." It is possible that the "wave" is their understanding of hallucinations or something else like that. We will never know.

  * You think so?

  * We are protected by the "Barrier". But if you want to know what a "wave" is, then we can turn off the "Barrier". I'm even sure that we will immediately learn about this mysterious "wave" no less than the ancient astronauts knew about it,\- she grinned and glanced briefly at a nearby Jilk.- We, without ancient charades, have enough of our worries.

Jilk was silent for a while, and still asked her what had been spinning in his tongue for a long time:

  * Lora, you have no visions?

  * I have no visions. What? Are you haunted by ghosts? - In her humorous tone, Jilk caught a hint of nervousness.

  * What about nightmares? Don't you have strange dreams?

  * With my dreams, I'll somehow figure it out myself, captain.

  * I wanted to say ... It is possible that you are worried about dreams, of a personal nature. What are some acute experiences. Or contradictions.

  * Jilk. You and everyone else, in my personal life, have no place. Mind your own business. And my personal life, I will do it myself. Have you agreed?

He said nothing.

They turned left and walked along the empty green wall. The other wall of the corridor was glass. Behind the glass, as if behind a shop window, in the darkness of empty compartments, incomprehensible appliances, tables and a heap of containers could be seen.

  * So you are confident in the reliability of the "Barrier"?

  * Absolutely sure. I admit that the Object is still capable of slightly affecting our consciousness. But that is all. What happened to you and your crew in the Ice Belt cannot happen here. We will reach the goal, drop a missile with a bomb from the cruiser and return home. I know that for sure. And you, Jilk, doubt too much for the cruiser captain. Maybe in the raids of the tug, is this normal?

  * Inexplicable incidents began to occur with our crew.

  * "With our crew," is it with you?

  * And with me too.

  * Huh.Either your "Barrier", not as safe as we were told, or the Object was able to overcome the defense of the much-praised "Barrier".

  * I repeat, this is impossible,- she sighed wearily.- Understand yourself. The "Barrier" is reliable and safe. Of course, there are side effects of its effects on living organisms ...

  * Bleeding began to occur more often, Lora. Especially in recent days.

  * We will survive this, Jilk. You are a strange captain.

They reached the end of the corridor and ended up in a spacious room in front of a filtering gateway leading into the hangar with the "Barrier" installation.

Jilk and Loria stopped in front of the armored hatch.

Light panels shone brightly, their white light reflected from glossy walls and a white floor.

  * I feel like a "fifth wheel,"- he said, adjusting a holster with a gun on his belt, and ordered.- Open the hatch!

The heavy hatch, almost without sound, drove off to the side, opening the entrance to the filter gate. Five minutes later, they went through airlock and entered the installation hangar.

Jilk has been here several times. The large, brightly lit premis of the "Barrier" installation did not have flights of stairs or service tiers. In a cube-like hangar space, anti-gravity panels were installed.

The hangar was almost two hundred meters across. Being at a distance of several meters from each other, the panels formed a huge sphere, inside of which a crystal was hanging, which was not attached to anything, in the air. The crystal had a diameter of about five meters — faceted and bright white, it sparkled with its clear faces, scattering multicolored rays in all directions — pure monochromatic's, violet, red and yellow glare's of light.

The crystal was very beautiful.

He was impossibly beautiful, fabulous.

Jilk could stand still motionless for a long time, and admire the play of light on its faces, the rainbow spray in the very heart of the "Barrier".

In fact, the crystal was the very "Barrier", its heart, its essence.

  * Every time I come here and admire him,- Loria said, looking at the installation.- I can't even believe that I myself was present at his birth.

  * Yes, he is handsome. What was he like?

  * He was the eighth. Seven fabricated crystals had a broken internal structure. But this one turned out to be perfect. It can be said that it is perfect. Sometimes it seems to me that he hears and sees me.

  * Lora, he's just a piece of carbon - stone, diamond.

  * Yes. Stone,- the woman thoughtfully looked into Jilk's face, said nothing, and turned away.

To the left of the wall stood a wide control panel, with a large, elongated screen. Thick, yellow cables ran to the console.

Loria went to the control panel, and Jilk remained standing still, looking at the crystal.

It was in the "Barrier", something enchanting, something from which it was difficult to look away.

Jilk wanted to look at the play of light inside the crystal, to peer at what sparkled and eluded his gaze, as if the crystal was playing with him, calling him ...

  * It's beautiful.

Loria Molly went to the "Barrier" control panel, sat in the operator's deep, brown chair and touched the buttons with her fingers.

Jilk was expecting some kind of reaction in the setup, but nothing had changed.

Everything was quiet and calm in the hangar.

It smelled of ozone, like at Dawn before a thunderstorm.

  * Lora, and your little analogue of the Object will not throw out any unexpected focus? What? Ah ... No, no, - she did not turn in his direction, studied the readings of the instruments. The Object emits un-radiation. We are still learning to register it. In general, the whole idea with the "Barrier", with its defense, is simple. We have created an analogue of the Object, which works in a certain range of un-radiation and causes resonance, destroys the structure of the pulses of the Object. Antigrave increases the mass of the crystal ...

She was silent.

Jilk did not want to disturb her.

  * Well, this analogue, not quite an analogue,- he went a little forward towards the "Barrier", and stopped two steps from the red line drawn on the floor, indicating the prohibition zone.

  * The Object has a "fillet" in it. We call it that.- She shook her head.\- According to radio telescopes, the Object has a certain core. Most likely from heavy metals. In the form of a fillet. Figuratively speaking. But it's nothing ... Yes, nothing ...

She fell silent again.

Jilk examined the crystal hanging in the air.

Bright, multi-colored, rainbow highlights, wandered around the floor, reflected on his overalls.

Jilk lost track of time. He froze, admiring the play of light in the purest crystal like crystal.

Loria said:

  * I would like to study the Object. From its orbit. He is unique. But there will be no such opportunity.

  * Will not be.

******* *******

Chapter 3

Acquaintance.

Jilk had a dream. Preserving his consciousness, he did not remember his name and did not even think about it. His attention was focused on the action, in which he was like an outside observer, but could hear and know the feelings of another, that the other. Jilk rushed through the black of vast space. He did not feel cold and thirst, all his feelings were directed to the environment, and in an incomprehensible way, he could see as no one could see, could feel and hear the thoughts of an outsider. The one who flew in this blackness of space, with him. Next to him was an outsider, giant and strong.

He called himself Flying.

And also to the Seers.

And - the Seeker.

These were his names, which he himself gave himself, on the basis that he considered himself the most important.

Born during the explosions of mighty stars, thrown out of a frenzied gravity through the clouds of red-hot hydrogen and dust, Flying took life and meaning.

He began to live.

And he began to think.

Consciousness came to him immediately. He moved in the void and saw everything around him.

He flew through clouds of dust and gas; bright and red-hot, past the young stars who had just found light. The mighty forces of gravity, where the stars were located very close to each other, were seen by him as luminous, blue lines forming a radiance around him.

He experienced a fulness of power, so powerful as it had never been before.

And he felt his core.

He learned about his core as soon as he began to think. He understood the force living in him, and how to direct this force tearing outside, locked in it, to direct it to the core in order to change the direction of his flight.

He continued to see and think.

The idea of time appeared in him, only later, when the area of young stars where he was born was far behind, and there was nothing ahead.

Only emptiness.

And nothing but expectation.

He moved and chose his path.

Seeing the nearest star, he directed the force to the core and aligned the flight to the star.

It was far from the star - it flew, but the distance was reduced very slowly, lazily and malleably.

Then, in his first flight, he had his first questions.

Who is he?

Why is he?

Are there others like him?

And where are they?

The surrounding space was not darkness for him. A thin, pink light penetrated everything, and in this light, somewhere very far from it, blue, green, yellow and red stars shone. The stars formed a huge whirlwind, strewn with a scattering of lights and diluted with a fog of gas.

Then his strength began to weaken.

And this, too, was a discovery for him.

He was to lose consciousness, disappear and the abyss, becoming nothing. As before its appearance in space.

And then all the questions stopped worrying him.

Instead of questions, fear appeared in him. He experienced a drowning, wild desire to see, think and move.

As the power given to him at the birth of the stars was ending, his mind began to fade away until it died out completely, along with his dumb lone cry in the empty and deaf space.

And he ceased to be.

Strength and consciousness returned to him again when an approaching star gave him that power.

And with the awakened consciousness, he began to hear.

He heard others.

The small, yellow star, much smaller than the stars that he saw after his birth, had twelve stone and gas satellites, warm and bright, and from there voices came to him.

He learned what joy is glee and the end of all questions.

He was not alone.

But his joy quickly passed, replaced by bewilderment; these voices did not belong to the companions of the star. The planets were dead and silent. Voices came from devices made by those who lived on the planets.

Small and invisible creatures.

And there were a lot of them.

Like a scattering of stars in space.

Continuing to pour strength, he was soon ready to speak with them himself, but from these voices, he learned something new about himself.

Flying, Seeing, and, did not know what he was, and could not see himself from the outside. He could not compare himself with anything. But those living on dead companions saw him in their devices and screamed about him into the whole space. Waves of power carried their scream.

And he found out.

Seeking was huge.

He was many times more dead star companions.

And it turned out that his appearance threatened those who lived there.

Flying compared himself and them, and called living on two planets - Nothingnesses. They were like dust to him.

They were hostile and scared.

Flying perplexedly studied their voices, delved into their lives, he learned about the feelings and desires of the.

And then he knew laughter and anger.

Tiny as dust, they did not look for their own kind - there were many of them and they were always together. But they exterminated each other, instead of the joy of knowing that they were together.

The Worthless wanted something else, they wanted pleasure. And they killed. They did with others what the Seer experienced while dying out.

They called it death.

He was approaching their worlds - huge and scary.

He could still reject his flight, and pass by, farther from the star and the planets with the Insignificances.

But Flying changed his mind.

He directed his power to the core and rushed to the planets.

The closer the Seeker approached the inhabited worlds, the more distinctly the voices of the Insignificants were heard. And soon, he was able to hear not only their adaptations, but directly their very mind. The thoughts of the Insignificants were weak, and filled with horror.

His approach brought horror into their worlds, and horror began the struggle for survival.

From the voices he learned that he could not be destroyed or stopped. Now, approaching very close, Flying could talk to them.

He suddenly realized that he was capable of forcing the Insignificants to do what he wanted of them. Just need to tell them.

Give a hint.He called it that.

Hint.

He discovered the game.

Fun. It was interesting and fascinating to watch how, obeying the promptings of the Seer, the Insignificants rush and destroy each other, how they diversify their fates and deeds.

And then he burst into their star system, passed near the planets, bringing down the power of his gravity on them, killing those who live there, and mixing stones, dust and fire. The Cry of the Worthless was loud, piercing and short.

Long after that, already departing from the star, Flying again and again remembered this cry, the cry of billions of Insignificants, he dismantled this cry into its component parts, studied their emotions and strength.

It was a short event in the life of the Flying, and it brought him interest.

He found out what is interest.

And he again went into the void, disappeared and ceased to be.

Until the next star.

Then there were a lot of meetings with new worlds, and again the Worthless were living there. They were different, but like the others, they were insignificant.

Until next awakening.

But Flying never met a similar to himself.

As time passed, the stars expanded, dimmed, swayed like gas bubbles and exploded brightly.

Their gas flew in all directions, illuminated by a blinding dot.

New stars were born.

They were aging and dying.

And he saw their death.

Everything has changed.

Only one remained unshakable; Flying, Seer, Seeker.

Suddenly Jilk found himself, clearly understood his thoughts and separated from the consciousness of the Flying, and fell into a dead emptiness, into black and hopeless. He experienced a feeling similar to the touch of cold and sharp fingers, as if someone huge and mighty, looked at him from the side, rummaged in his thoughts and feelings. These touches brought Jilk a tearing and disgusting pain. It seemed to him as if from under those strangers fingers, the blood of Jilk's consciousness was oozing, and his painful memories flowed.

The stranger's presence was intensified by a piercing gaze, and Jilk heard someone's voice, like a loud echo in ice caves:

  * Hello Jilk. I see you.

Jilk woke up.

He woke up from his own scream.

Jilk was sitting on his bed, in a cabin submerged in the twilight, and a heart-rending cry burst from his throat.

"- Hello Jilk".

"- I see you".

"- I see, I see, see ..."

******* *******

Almost the entire "Arrow" crew gathered in the wardroom.

There was no Storm Stone, which was now on duty in the control compartment.

Light was on above all the tables of the wardroom; people and Florians were seated in armchairs. Everyone argued, it came to screams.

Jilk Ri did not interrupt anyone, he wanted to hear everyone's opinion.

The crew, consisting of military and former tugboats, could not become homogeneous; the tugboats were seated separately from the military. The exception was Major Jock Sunee. He sat next to Au, and looked at what was happening, frowning darkly at his eyebrows. His large nose turned red, and his eyes were watery, and Jilk was sure that the major was again attached to the "good wine."

The cruiser's senior energy engineer, Captain Fum Mook, a stout Florian in orange overalls, was speaking. He was sitting at the third table, near the bar, and was disheveled and shaggy, and his voice sounded with a call:

  * If Dawn and Floria no longer exists, then we have nothing to do here! They are waiting for us there,- he vaguely waved his hand, somewhere to the side.- And that means the situation has long and hopelessly changed.

The florian warriors sitting next to him, with the rank of captains, Zhum Ou and Hyun Ka, nodded grimly in agreement. Unlike the Fum Muk navigator, they, like all gunners, wore dark green overalls with red stripes on their right sleeves.

  * The captain,- the assistant captain, Glack Nou was now looking in the direction of Jilk, sitting next to the young lieutenant engineer Diski Aloin.\- I will allow myself to express my opinion. A catastrophic situation has developed, and this cannot be denied.- We have two ways. Or we will find a way to confirm or deny ...- he stopped short, choosing words. These are dreams. Or we must deploy a cruiser and go to the aid of those whom we can still help.

  * Captain Nou,- Jilk asked him.- Do you have any specific thoughts on this? Or not?

Jilk tried not to show his concern. He sat cross-legged, occasionally drinking from the high glass goblet, sugary sweet orange juice. Jilk already foresaw a catastrophe creeping up to them.

  * I have some thoughts,- Klag turned to the young engineer-lieutenant.- Diski Aloin expressed a good idea. In my opinion, his idea deserves special attention.

  * This is nonsense.- Loria Molly snorted contemptuously.- I know this idea of his. Diski, you are a good boy and I will tell you only once - do not meddle in a business in which you understand nothing.

  * Will you allow him to speak?- Klag was annoyed.

  * To health.

And Diski Aloin, blushing with his wide, freckled face, spoke out:

  * The "Barrier" with its radiation clogs all the radio frequencies, and given the emitters inside the cruiser casing, the reception of signals by us is practically impossible.- But this is only at first glance, - the young guy looked at the assistant captain, as if looking for support from him.- We know that a few hundred meters from the cruiser, the radiation of the emitters is weakening. So, it's enough for us to launch a prepared radio probe and try to start receiving external transmissions. The signals will be suppressed by the "Barrier", but we have a chance to filter the signals through the computer and get the necessary information. I will prepare a probe, and for its launch we can use one of the aft platforms of the ship. Here is my action plan.

Everyone in the mess room kept silence for a long time

  * To do this, we will have to turn off the antigravs and engines,- Au South said dryly.

  * We turn them off,- Klag said it calmly, as if it were a trifle.

  * This is our only chance to find out at least something,- Aloin shrugged his sloping shoulders. We will immediately find out what is happening in the Commonwealth. We will find out if these dreams can be trusted.

  * Boy, this is your chance to become a corpse,- Loria Molly looked at him without any expression in her eyes.- You will not go back.

  * We will be protected by your "Barrier", Loria.

  * I already explained everything to everyone,- she said.- You cannot leave the ship. I'm not at all sure that you can leave the ship.

  * And what, in fact, are you sure of?- The power engineer Wind Skat laughed in her face.- What are you sure of? For example, I doubt that the Object is able to somehow influence us. And that all this venture with your "Barrier" ... Flies, somewhere a piece of stone, and around it raised such a tantrum! Molly, isn't your "Barrier" driving the crew crazy? Is it not his "studied" radiation that we all owe to these nightmares? And, where is the evidence of the reasonableness of the Object? Is no evidence.

  * Read lab reports ...

  * I read these your reports, Loria. All this is far-fetched, rubbish! There are objective observations of radio telescopes; there are reports from the Star Center. And it says something completely different, Loria. It completely different!

  * I will not argue with you, Wind. You do not understand what you are talking about.

  * Of course. We are all here, complete dumbasses - the black eyes of the Wind, laughed. - You yourself wrote about the impact of the "Barrier" on the psyche of intelligent creatures. Our doctors, - the Wind nodded towards the doctors sitting next to each other,- They feed us pills from bleedings that has arisen, and with each passing week, more and more. And I think that it is not the Object that is to blame for this, but your vaunted "Barrier"! Blame its radiation. Have a question? Yes, Loria, we all have a lot of questions. And we need answers. Of course, the captain has the final word.- He looked at Jilk with a smile.\- But we need answers now! Now! I finished.

Then the florian Zhum Ou spoke, but he did not say anything new.

Sol Dean tried to argue with him, but the semi-engineer was immediately shut up.

Aaoli was silent.

Major Suni did not intervene in this dispute either. Only once, he said shortly and loudly:

  * It's stupid to risk your life because of dreams.

An hour later, they decided to vote.

With a margin of one vote, it was decided to leave the ship and launch a radio probe.

******* *******

Dressed in the "Perch" spacesuit, he stood in a brightly lit airlock next to Diski.

Egg-like, round-shaped bond probe, bristling with antennas, smooth and shiny, resting on a high transport trolley on the right side of the So's.

They were waiting.

Silently.

Au turned his head inside the helmet, looked at the young partner. Through the bright glare on the face glass of the helmet, he saw Disky's face calm, even some dreamy. He spotted the freckles on the nose of the engineer lieutenant, snub nose and puffy lips.

Boy.

Au turned away, began to look in front of him.

Everything was white here.

In front of him was a dull wall and an exit, pot-bellied hatch - large and square, with a round porthole in the upper part.

Darkness reigned in the porthole.

The headphones were quiet. Loria's voice disappeared, giving him the last instructions, the dawnianess fell silent, and now he was waiting for an order to leave. There, behind this hatch, there was a platform for probes — a small one, Au saw it only on the viewing screens, empty, with luminous markings for service modules and a superstructure on the left, which was led by a short, steel staircase. In principle, there was nothing complicated in the conclusion of the probe — to roll out the cart with the probe from the lock chamber, roll it to the launch pad, where the control panel is located, connect the probe with a shielded cable to the shield, and calmly go back.

Thirty meters in one direction, thirty in the other.

And then Jilk will turn off the running engines and anti-gravity, and Loria, sitting in the command compartment, will activate the probe and lead him away from the ship ...

Au was tired of boredom and idleness. The weeks and months he spent on the cruiser, with the rare days when he was busy with business, weary him. He wanted to take a walk, albeit not far, albeit not for long. But it was better than hanging around in his cabin or sitting in the wheelhouse, looking at the monotony of the readings.

Au grinned, remembering Jilk's face, alarmed, angry.

Jilk did not want to let him go to launch this probe.

Jilk was against it.

Au wanted to come up with a short poem, but his thoughts were like wooden and rhyme did not go.

  * Au, we're ready.- Jilk sounded in the headphones, tense, sharp.

  * I understood.. Give us a way out.

Air began to pump out quickly from the lock chamber - Au heard a small whistle, then it became completely quiet, the sounds outside the spacesuit died.

  * We will keep you under observation, Au. - Again Jilk's voice. - If you suspect even the slightest deviation in your well-being, even if you find something suspicious ...

  * I know I know. We drop everything and get back to the cruiser, - Au finished for him.

He looked again at his partner, now already turning the whole body in his direction.

  * I'm ready, Au. - Diski put his hand, dressed in a white glove of a spacesuit, on the nickel-plated handle of the cart. He looked calm.

  * I open the hatch. - Jilk's voice.

The white hatch in front of them opened smoothly and slowly, leaving to the left side, its powerful hinges flashed in the light of light panels.

  * Rolled, - said So Diski. - Slowly.

They set off — slowly, pushing the trolley in front of them on the steel surface of the floor, and their magnetic boots at every step, with a dull sound transmitted through their legs, hit, clung to the floor.

Knock knock, knock knock ...

The trolley was rolled out of the lock chamber - the black sky around and bright points of the stars, the space of the launch pad was shaded, only the landing marking lights for the modules in front of them burn, and rare, matte lamp shades on the left of the superstructure.

The trolley rolls, buzzes, darkens, its handrail reflects the light behind - bright, thin highlights.

Knock, knock...

They walked three meters along the marked red line.

Five meters.

The tool box on the right is in the shadow of the cruiser skin, a black rectangle sticking up against the background of stars and the blurry Oval nebula.

Stop.

  * Everything,- says Au.

  * I'm going for the cable, - Diski removes his hand from the handrail of the cart, looks into the glass of the helmet of the Au. - Seven minutes.

Au watches as Diski calmly turns away, turning to the tool box, where, in the darkness of the shadow, the marker light and the green number "3" are dimly lit.

  * How are you? - Jilk's voice.

  * Everything is in order with us,- Au turned his gaze from Diski up to the stars.

They poured cold and calm light - distant lights, inaccessible, but strangely close - relatives.

Whites, blues, pinks ...

He was always surprised at this beauty of the stars. It would seem nothing interesting, just bright dots on a black background.

But if you look closely, if you imagine ...

Strange beauty.

Handsomely...

It's beautiful.

******* *******

Diski approached the tool box.

An ordinary steel box, more than human height, with a smooth, glossy surface, shone in dark gray.

Such stood on his "Stubborn", where he served for almost two years. Knowing what he saw there, three wide, roomy compartments, with white backlighting in each, Diski held out his hand, grabbed the curved handle on the door and turned it down.

He felt a click under his palm, thin, barely perceptible, and pulled the hilt towards himself, opening the door. The backlight flashed, white, matte, and immediately it became light. He saw three compartments in a drawer. In the upper one, in special grooves of green plastic, there were shiny tools — large and smaller — wire cutters, plasma soldering irons, pliers, clamps and small things, like screwdrivers and keys, but fitted under the arm in the glove of a spacesuit. In the central cell, pressed with a red clamp to the box wall, hung a shielded communication cable, twisted into a dense, black skein.

This happened when Diski extended his hand to the coil of cable - a subtle, soft push from below, under his legs, like a cruiser's deck, jerked slightly up.

For a split second, Diski felt unwell; the toolbox, with all its contents, swam before his eyes, twisted, the light of the lamps faded. Consciousness, for a short moment, became confused.

And then everything returned to normal again - Diski looked at his hand outstretched to the coil of cable, froze, listening to his feelings.

Nothing happened.

He hesitantly said:

  * Au.

There is silence in the headphones, a soft hiss of radio waves is heard.

  * Au.

He heard that someone responded on the air, maybe it was someone else's question, but he was not sure about it.

Everything is quiet.

Diski unfastened the clamp, took the cable and pulled it out of the drawer.

He rocked again, but longer, stronger, he experienced lightheadedness, dizziness and lethargy in his body, staggered and probably would have fallen, but his magnetic boots stood firmly on the deck, as if they had grown into it.

  * Au!

And he abruptly turned back.

Perhaps it only seemed to him that way — the body, as if stuffed with cotton wool, was not obedient, and Diski was turning around, as in a dream and helplessly, languidly ...

  * Sonnie!

He suddenly saw his mother.

Mom stood in front of him in her favorite green dress. The breeze played with her blond hair. The Big Star shone brightly.

Where a gently sloping hill overgrown with green grass ended near a blue wooden fence, their two-story house stood, with a blue roof and open windows on the ground floor.

He saw white curtains on the windows and heard the distant barking of a dog.

His dog.

Bark him Novik.It was already lunch time.

He completely forgot about it, he started playing too much.

It was great to play the astronaut - he imagined that he had already grown up and strong and he was accepted into the crew of the cruiser, for a long trip ...

Mom.

She cooked his favorite sweet cheesecakes in the kitchen - small and crumbly, and Diski always liked to sit on his high, high chair, chat with her feet under the table and wait for his mother to put in front of him a plate with cheesecakes and a glass of fresh, deliciously smelling milk.

  * Dee, you took father's spacesuit again. You know that he does not allow you to play with him.

Mom spoke softly, with a smile, dimples appeared in the corners of her lips, her eyes, blue as the sky, looked with affection.

  * Mom, I'm only for an hour.

  * Do you know what the hour is?- And she laughed, shook her head.- Dee, Dee, your "hour" is long gone. Time to have lunch.

  * What will we have lunch?

  * Cheesecakes.

  * With milk?

  * With milk, Dee.

He really wanted to play the astronaut yet, but mom is already here, which means the game is over. Yes, and dad will be unhappy if he finds out about his spacesuit.

  * And if you choke on him, Dee?

  * No, I won't suffocate. There are such things, they open and you can breathe.

Mom brought her face closer to him and jokingly kissed the glass of the helmet:

  * And how do I get to my son?

They laughed amicably.

He and mom.At this moment, Dis remembered how recently, at the beginning of summer, they went to the beach, swimming and sunbathing. And it so happened that he promised his mother not to go far into the water, but still could not resist and went far from the coast. He chose the moment when mother turned away to say something to Aunt Sale, and strod forward. Suddenly the sand disappeared beneath his feet, and he plunged headlong into the water.

He looked in surprise under the water on either side, not seeing anything wrong with the fact that he could not go ashore. He became interested.

He even began to swallow water - one sip, the second ...

And then someone's hands grabbed him and with a jerk — strong, desperate, pulled Dis out of the water, and he roared with shame for his helplessness and from the fear that suddenly arose, coughed, wrapped his arms around mother's neck, hid face in her hair ...

  * Son, we have to go.

  * Already?

  * You don't want to eat cold cheesecakes?- Mom tilted her head to the side.

She always did this if she wanted to say that the game was over, and no excuses would help him.

  * Mom, can I play again after lunch?

  * Dad will swear.

  * And we won't tell dad. I'll be a little bit astronaut!

Mom took a deep breath, in her blue eyes like sky, sparkled pink sparkles - small, funny.

  * Alright, young man. After lunch, you can again be an astronaut.

She laughed, looking into his eyes, and Diski also became funny and good. He knew that nothing bad would happen to him near his mother, and even if he went deep into the water, she would certainly come to his aid.

  * Dee, Dee ...

He raised his hands to the base of the helmet, felt for the rounded heads of the clamps, and turning them, opened the pneumatic clamp.

The glass of the helmet bounced up and froze, releasing a cloud of icy air and bloody spray ...

******* *******

Au looked through the glass of the helmet and the stars seemed to him prickly, bright points, somewhere in the vast Nothing.

Seven minutes.

He will stand here for a long seven minutes.

Then the Diski will return with a cable, they will connect the probe ...

He wanted to walk in front, two, three steps towards these stars.

He sees them, all his life. It seemed that he was accustomed to them, became almost indifferent to them. He was drawn into the routine and daily need to live his own strange, unwanted life. And now, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, he suddenly looked at them in a new way. It was like inspiration, a mirage of innermost, unconscious images and echoes of thoughts.

Seven minutes.

Au let go of the cart and, going around it, went a little further, forward, a little, until the gray cube of the navigation beacon turned off now.

Seven minutes.

Is it a lot or a little?

The light of the sensors inside his helmet threw bright, cheerful glare on the glass, softly shining from under his face.

Seven minutes.

Seven minutes is a lot.

During this time, you can reach the end of the platform, stand there in peace and quiet, and slowly return to the probe.

Au stopped a few steps from the trolley with the probe.

In seven minutes, if you wish, you can go around the entire cruiser, look into each compartment, listen to his desires, bright and stormy, the desires of distant wanderings, waiting for the discovery of his essence ...

  * Au, - a quiet and kind of timid voice of the Diski's appeared in the headphones, like the voice of a ghost.

Au did not answer.

Au looked at the stars - who understood him, who knew him, for many, many long years.

In seven minutes, stars are born and die.

They swell with dazzling, red bubbles, devour the worlds swarming around them like moths, and burst, scatter in all directions with gas, hot rags, so that after a time, an infinitely long time, after seven minutes, gather again and burst into flames with the same powerful force, giving life to new worlds born of fire ...

  * Au! - A loud and heart-rending cry of Diski cut his ears and verse, drowned in the cold of unblinking stars.

And he went forward, not hastily, but confidently, and everything was as it should, and everything was in order.

He walked knowing that inspiration was standing there, on the edge of the landing site, behind the yellow light of the markings, standing waiting for him - patient and reliable, like a true friend.

Au felt a musty and suffocation inside himself, as if he could not, express words suddenly surging feelings. He felt stuffy, to screaming, to tears, to frenzy.

  * I live worse than a dog ... - the words themselves flew out of his mouth, but not as familiar as they used to be. Their meaning has become rude and sloppy in the stream of Au's senses — ordered and clear.- Not that. It's not that ...

  * Au, back! - Jilk scream.

More Au did not hear anything, neither loud screams in the headphones, nor the crack of radio interference, nothing.

He calmly walked to the edge of the platform, and his magnetic shoes at every step stuck to the steel floor, like the legs of a large insect.

"\- He doesn't understand- Jilk, no, he doesn't understand. Are we breathing? Can we say out loud the rhythm of our breath, his feelings, his thoughts, his meaning? "

Walking along the site illuminated by dimensional marking, Au composed verses.

I hear a call

I can get a little closer

to the abyss that I want ...

No, that was not it! Not that!

Au shook his head, his breathing quickened.

The abyss has nothing to do with it.

The abyss is only a symbol of his daily life, his chest tightness, his torment.

How can you love it, love this torment?

He felt stuffy. The air inside the suit was heavy, moist, malleable, and Aum himself seemed to him a mute and helpless idiot.

  * I am not mediocre. Just this air, this life inside the shell ... Yes, the shell.

He distinguished small, pink dots, fireflies, tiny and shy, they filled the space around the Au, swarmed, flashed and went out, and through them the stars shone, dazzling, large.

And he realized with insight that it should be that they are part of the universe, not visible to anyone, not recognized, but permeating everything, bearing meaning and lightness.

This discovery literally captured his consciousness and Au, holding his breath, looked at these pink stars, was afraid to scare them away with his attention, his curiosity.

Pink, living dust ...

This, this ...

These are future stars!

Au understood everything. He saw stars that were not yet born, but awaiting their birth.

And they carried inspiration and meaning to him. He wanted to express the feelings that had arisen - mixed, new, incomprehensible, filled with a new meaning - elusive, elusive. Au if he had heard words that had no analogues in his language, these words themselves did not exist, but only a sound that brings harmony and rhyme.

  * O- o- o- a- a ...

His voice sounded high and loud, froze on one high, piercing note:

  * And- and- and- and ... I- I- a- a- a- ah! ...

He was choking.

Sparks, pink sparks crowded around the glass of the helmet.

His hands went up to the clips of the helmet, his voice choking, already anguished, shouting, shouting, shouting ...

Breathe the stars

A-a-and-and-and ...

Ways ...

I'll frame the mercury ...

A-a-a-a ...

The latches bounced.

The figure of Au was frozen in place with his hands up.

The near, green lantern, illuminated its left side with an even, soft light, played with emerald highlights on the elbow straps, on the steel toes of the boots covered with hoarfrost, on the raised glass of the helmet ...

******* *******

Chapter 4.

Three.

Jilk returned to his cabin and, not taking off his sweat-smelling overalls, fell onto the bed and looked at the white ceiling.

A week passed, as Aum died.

About Diski, Jilk hardly thought.

The disc was not a friend, was not a tow. Diski was a military engineer who remained "not his own".

Au was dead.

And Jilk let him go.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax.

Blood beat violently in his temples, his chest was heavy, as if a sandbag had been laid on it.

Today he checked the shuttle - two rescue, high-speed spacecraft, standing in hangars on the seventeenth tier of the cruiser. Everything was fine with them. Pointed-nosed, with triangular flaps in the tail and swollen sides, C-shuttles could take the crew away from here at any moment, save him or destroy him. Shuttles were fueled, with a full supply of food - they were waiting for the order to start.

Way home.

On the Dawn.

Jilk didn't think about that for long. The Object must be destroyed. There are no other options. And then. As shown by a recent sortie outside the cruiser, evacuation on C shuttles can be fatal for the crew.

Yesterday at the wardroom, his assistant spoke in the spirit that inside shuttles should be as reliable as inside "Arrow". He is already thinking about it.

  * If the shuttles install all available neutralizers ...

You see, he already wants to install something, somewhere.

Jilk knew that his position as captain of a cruiser no longer mattered to the military.

  * It's a matter of time,- he muttered out loud and closed his eyes.

After lunch, Jilk went to the elevator of the fourth tier, and there he literally collided with the officers standing in the corridor - Zhum Ou, Syllable Trevon, Stone Storm, Wind Skat and Glack Nou. When he turned into the corridor from around the corner, they were already silently waiting for his appearance - the dawnians and the Florians looked at the approach of their captain in silence.

They stepped aside when Jilk passed them\- gloomily and respectfully.

Jilk walked away, and with his back, he felt their gaze on himself.

Their heavy view's.

They were talking about something there.

They were discussing something.

Between themselves.

After the death of Au and Diski, Jilk went to bed without undressing - a holster with a gun now always hung on his belt.

Without opening his eyes, he reached into the breast pocket of his overalls, felt for a package of tablets in it, and taking it out, squeezed out one tablet and put it in his mouth. Recently, light has begun to inflict pain on his eyes. Not always. But how now, when fatigue and nervousness knocked him down and deprived him of strength.

A tablet melted in Jilk's mouth and her minty, tart taste was pleasant and fresh.

"" I need to get up and turn off the light,"- he lay without moving, his right leg dangling to the floor. "- Not long left. More than half the way, passed."

Au- thoughtful and as if alive, like a ghost of memory, appeared in front of his inner gaze, stood and looked somewhere off to the side, as he usually liked to look.

It became difficult for Jilk to breathe, his throat constricted with a spasm.

"- It's my fault, Autumnal."

He really, desperately wanted to leave this place, cabin, ship, and be at home, at least not for long.

For one hour.

For a minute...

He did not notice how he fell asleep.

And he had a dream.

******* *******

Tressa Iga just left. She came to Guen on some issue of "hardware junk." Jilk didn't understand even half of what the doctors were discussing. Then Tressa, chastised them on all counts, in expressions she was not shy, remembered "the consequences of alcoholism of command personnel".

At the same time, the woman was staring Jilk in the eye, and with a wave of her hand, she left the medical compartment.

Jilk sat at the desk of Guen Kha and watched the evolution of feelings on the shaggy face of a florian doctor. From the confused indignation, Guen's emotions quickly changed to annoyance, and then took on ironic shades.

The doctor walked around the table and sank heavily into his chair, opposite Jilk.

  * Put everything back on the table. What now.

Jilk leaned over and pulled out two pot-bellied alcohol bottles and two glasses from under the table. Put it all on the table.

  * You will not go to drinking bout?

  * I won't leave.- Jilk gently poured alcohol into glasses, spilled a little on the gloss of the table.

  * Still, she can revive the feast,- Guen grinned into thin wire-mustache, his cat's eyes widened.- But she, a wonderful man.

  * Yes,- Jilk set his glass in front of Guan.- Last week, Syllable praised Tress. She treated his tooth.

  * Not about teeth. Beg you,- Guen laughed happily and loudly, as if he was freed from something painful, easily and freely.

Jilk also laughed, but not understanding the reasons for Guen's laugh. He laughed just to keep Guen in a good mood. The last days, the florian doctor was taciturn and gloomy, but today he suddenly came to life, became cheerful, joked, talked about his youth, how he studied, got married, got into the fleet ... Jilk listened attentively and with interest, sometimes starting to talk about events from his life, but Guen interrupted him with the words "this is not it," laughed and continued to speak.

Yesterday, Jilk, barely able to stand on his feet, left Guan far after midnight.

The doctor suddenly calmed down - the laugh instantly disappeared, replaced by wariness in his voice, he asked Jilk:

  * Do you have dreams?

Jilk stopped smiling, answered dryly:

  * I have dreams.

Guen leaned back in his chair, and bowed his head.

  * In a dream, I see my children. But as they were in childhood. They play in the meadow, and I watch. And that's all. Nothing more,- he sighed heavily, continued.\- For the fourth year, the eldest daughter has been working as a doctor, flew to Or, and the youngest son ... He got caught up, you know, for some poetess. Well, she would have talent, education. And no, she has nothing. Nothing but a figure,\- Guen looked Jilk in the eye.\- I tell him, son, it's just hormones, forget. Go study!... We quarreled with him. So I flew to the "Arrow", without saying goodbye. And after all, he is not stupid, capable. A!

Jilk watched as Guen drained his glass in one gulp, put it on the table, looking for something to eat.

There was no snack.

There was a knock on the door.

The doctor got to his feet, went to open.

Jilk quickly hid glasses and bottles under the table.

  * What do you want?- Guan's voice.

Jilk turned to the door and saw that the doctor was standing in the doorway, with one hand holding the ajar door by the handle, and the other resting on the jamb.

  * Good afternoon, doctor.

  * Yeah. Good.

  * I ... We have come to you, so ... We do not distract you?

Jilk recognized the voice of artillery chief Jock Sunee.

  * Distract.

  * Clear. Ahem. Is the captain not with you?

  * Major, here is the medical compartment.

  * So is the captain here?

Guen sighed, moved to one side, freeing the passage, and Jilk saw a major figure squeeze past him, sideways, and Sol Dean appeared after him.

  * Dr. Iga told us that you are here.- Sol said, standing at the table, next to the major.

  * It is clear.- Guen returned to his chair, looked inquiringly at the guests and, pointing at Jilk, said.- You wanted something from him. Here is the captain.

Sol Dean looked at the major, the major looked at Sol Dean, shrugged his shoulders, and said, addressing Guen:

  * Actually we came to you, doctor.

  * Do you feel sick?

  * No. I am well. Maybe you Sol got sick?

  * I AM? Heh.

  * Doctor, we just left the wardroom. There is an unbearable environment - everyone is sitting, as at a funeral.- Jock Sunee leaned against the edge of the table, his eyes widened.- You cannot refuse us refuge. I know that you and the captain are drinking here!

And the major smiled broadly and utterly defiantly.

  * You must have a good sense of smell, Major.

  * No, doctor. My scent, like everyone else's, is normal, but I am always friends with doctors, and they always have alcohol.

Guen laughed out loud.

  * Take your chairs over there,- he pointed with his hand to the opposite side of the compartment.- The glasses are there,- now Guen's hand was pointing toward the food-block apparatus. We will not leave you in trouble, major.

******* *******

  * Honestly, I was expecting me to be kicked off the fleet.- Jock Suni spoke slowly, putting his left hand on his belt, and his right hand on the table, his nose turned red more than usual, swollen, glossy, his big eyes were watery.- And suddenly this offer. They called me, talked ... Hmm. Probably, they didn't find a reliable guy for such a thing - there was not enough time. Or maybe there was someone, but he couldn't. Who knows?

  * Have you been in the Navy for many years, Major?- Guen asked him.

He sat next to Suni and, turning in his direction, looked half a turn of his head.

  * I'm in the fleet from the flight school. Then I was assigned to artillery. I went on a rescue spaceship "Persistent", and then got a raise. There was a whole story. I'm a drunkard. I know. Maybe I'm not always a role model for young people, but ... Captain!- Sunee was looking at Jilk now.\- Here is what I wanted to tell you. The situation in the crew is unhealthy. Of course, I am conducting my work to strengthen the spirit, so to speak ... These devils are up to something. All of us are military people, for each other, new. Subordination is subordination, but don't you know something ... Something ...- He tried to find the right word and, apparently not finding it, said.- Collusion. I can smell it. They whisper in the corners like rats. Ugh!\- And he spat with feeling to the side, almost falling into Sol Dina, who was lounging in an armchair next to him. Everything now depends on the time. The sooner we finish this thing, the better.

  * Most likely it will not work, Major. - Jilk looked at him across the table.- It will not happen.

Empty bottles and glasses were gathered together in the middle of the table, a snack appeared on the table, a gift of food-block, rested on plastic plates.

  * Then there will be dirty tricks, - the major tapped the table with his index finger.

  * Dreams scare everyone, Jock,- Guen took a deep breath.- It exhausts everyone.

  * So it is, of course, so, - the major's face became thoughtful, and his gaze rested on the empty glass, which stood near his hand .- He is trying, I mean Object, wants to turn us back, but to turn Jock Suni, he will not have enough strength. Huh... My son is dead. Long. I have no wife. Only I. Like an owl. I didn't even plant a tree. It would be possible to do this business ... I'm about a tree. I even submitted a report to the Human Resources Commission, I wanted to go into towing, but they did not take me.- He looked at Jilk.- Not fate.

  * Now fate, Major,- Jilk told him.- For all of us.

And then Sol Dean began to sing, loudly and sadly, about the long journey and loneliness, put his hand on the shoulder of the depressed major:

You reach the edge

you reach with me

along this road

yes in the darkness empty ...

Jock Suni picked up the motive, began to sing along with Sol- loudly, blushing with his face:

We will be until dawn

we will sing in the night.

On the road somewhere.

Just do not be silent.

Don't be silent in sadness ...

They finished the last verse.

The major wiped the tears from his gray eyes with his palm and laughed, almost joyfully:

  * And you, boy, how do you know this song?

  * Heard, - answered Sol .- Father sang.

  * Father sang ...- Suni said .- Father drank, probably?

  * No.

Then Guen told how in childhood he climbed a tree, to the very top and, going down, fell down and broke his leg. Jilk did not understand why he told this story. Apparently the song caused a sort of understandable sadness in the florianin, only to him alone.

Jilk was glad to sit with them at the table now, listen to them, look at their faces, drunk and crazy, and not think about what lay ahead.

There was a knock on the door.

Sol Dean went to open it.

Jilk thought one of the officers appeared, but Loria entered the medical compartment.

  * How are you here?- She carefully gave everyone a quick look.- Aunt Tressa sent me, go, she says, look after these slobs.

  * Aunt Tressa,- said Guen, grinning and looking at her with drunk, cat's eyes.- She was already here. She "looked after" us.

And everyone was quickened, vying to offer her a chair, and Jilk, too, got up, joyful to her visit, stood with a wacky smile on his face, listened to her laughter, her words. At that moment he was fine, and everyone around him was good, which means nothing bad could happen, and they will do what they were sent on the cruiser for, and return back to Dawn. There can be no doubt about that. But it will be later. Necessarily will. And now they ... They are just good guys, albeit not in shape, but still. He listened to her laughter, the loud words of the major, who for some reason began to prove to "madame" the "indestructible power of the ship", and Sol shamelessly looked at her breasts, completely indecent to Jilk's look and, interrupting the major, began to tell a vulgar joke.

They parted late at night.

The major fell asleep at the table and Guen did not want to wake him.

Jilk and Sol led Loria to her cabin. Sol went to his room, and Jilk walked toward his cabin in a complacent, drunken mood.

He fell onto the bed without turning off the light, buried his face in the pillow, and already falling asleep, tried to pull off his right foot boot from his left foot- not obedient, stubborn.

That night he again had a dream.

******* *******

He sat on his bed, in his underpants and undershirt. Overalls and boots disappeared somewhere. It was light, although the light panels under the ceiling did not light. But Jilk was not surprised. On the contrary, he took what was happening now in his cabin as a matter of course, natural and ordinary.

And he knew it was a dream.

The guest sat in front of him in an old, huge armchair, on wooden, carved legs, the armrests upholstered in red velvet protruded forward with their grinded, varnished heads of lions. The guest leaned back in the red chair. He smoked, and the big, black pipe in his hands - with a curved, long mouthpiece, made a dry crackle with each puff, from it rose a pink, luminous haze and pink sparks, as if alarmed, flashed in it and went out.

Rings sparkled with huge diamonds on the middle fingers of the guest's hands. On the left hand the ring was crowned with a sparkling diamond, the size of a chicken egg, from time to time pink trickles of the finest, like cobwebs, lightning burst from it, circled around the fingers, illuminated the carved armrest of the chair. On his right hand was the same ring with a diamond, only the color of his lightning was blue.

Jilk involuntarily looked at these seemingly living stones, peered into their transparent interior, as if he wanted to consider in him something very important for himself.

Behind the armchair, a huge stone fireplace burned — the marble boulders from which it was folded shone with languid glare. A huge cast-iron clock stood at the top of the fireplace, and two winged, cast-iron maidens embraced the glass dial. Sometimes these virgins turned their gray, reflecting head light toward Jilk and smiled at him. A guest sat in an armchair, dressed in a spacious, colorful bathrobe, homely, comfortable and warm. He threw one foot over the other, swinging his left foot shod in a green, velvet slipper.

The guest looked at Jilk.

Jilk looked at the guest.

They talked.

They talked for a long time.

Already many nights.

Every morning, Jilk forgot the content of these conversations, but he remembered the guest's visit as a vague, heavy dream, without details and details, he remembered the visitor himself, his appearance and even his voice, but the very meaning of the conversation eluded him like a shadow at dusk.

The conversation was difficult.

Jilk was tired of this conversation, but it was impossible to stop communication, it was unthinkable, it was like falling into the abyss, he could not stop, just like could not hang in the void to rest, take a breath.

He seemed to fall and rush down at the speed of a shell, realizing that he could not do anything about it.

The guest was silent.

Puffing his pipe, he was enveloped in gray smoke, pink sparks illuminated his thin, cheeky, strong-willed face. In black eyes like night itself, flashes of pink sparks reflected. A faint stellar wind flew from somewhere to the right, from the closed door to the cabin, and the black hair of the guest was agitated, tangled, smoke from the pipe blew off, flew towards the large, black porthole, and went into it, completely disappeared.

There was a tart, bitter smell of tobacco smoke in the cabin.

At first Jilk thought that the guest was looking at his pipe, smoking it, enthusiastically watching the throwing of pink sparks in it, but then he suddenly realized that the guest was looking at him, bowing his head, he had already lost interest in burning sparks, but inseparably, without raising his face, he watches Jilk, and his gaze from underneath, as it were, shines through Jilk's feelings, weighs them on his invisible scales, looks for something in them. In the fireplace behind a huge, heavy armchair, a bright fire flared up, and its yellow reflections lit up the marble slab with the clock, the back of the chair shone on a wooden frame, magical, bewitching.

Jilk wanted to look where the flames raged, but could not look from the black eyes of the guest. It seemed to him, no, he was almost sure that there, in the depths of the fireplace, dying stars explode with frantic fire and their nuclear flame, confused with clubs of interstellar gas, is carried up the chimney, with a dumb roar, like an angry, fairy-tale dragon.

  * Jilk, Jilk, - the guest raised his pale face and dropped his hand with the pipe down, enveloping in smoke, spoke in a calm, ringing copper voice.- You can't be a coward, Jilk. I'm talking now, not about the "Barrier", behind which you hid, thinking that he would save you. It will not save. I'm talking about your cowardice with which you live your entire short life.

The words here were superfluous, they did not mean anything in this conversation, because any feeling, appearing in Jilk's soul and not yet finding a word, was already becoming visible to the guest, understandable to him.

  * No, Jilk, you're a coward. And I will explain to you what your cowardice is. All your life you have been afraid to admit to yourself that you are an ordinary, useless insignificance that loves to deceive yourself with something that is not there. Yes, yes, do not argue with me,- The guest smiled indulgently at him; it even seemed to Jilk that the smile was kind, and that there seemed to be sincere and restrained sympathy for him.\- Face the facts. Who needed you? Who and when needed you? Who, Jilk? Although, of course, the parents ... But there's nothing to be done, they have no choice.\- The guest laughed briefly, without malice and mockery.- I am watching you with interest, you are a curious specimen, Jilk. Well, of course, your throw in the dead season of the doomed planet! You are hero. You're doing fine! Then he even became a representative of the Commonwealth Council. Everyone applauds Jilk. But we, we, with you, know what was the matter there, my friend. By and large, you did not care about the planet and its population.

  * No.

  * Yes Jilk, yes. You wanted Lina Sue to love you\- miserable feeling of a young stallion's, Jilk,\- The guest laughed briefly.\- And yet. You had a stupid, unfounded sense of hope. You simply did not believe in your death. Fools are always lucky. And you are lucky. What about Lina Sue? She began to love you?

The guest fell silent for a while, puffing with his pipe, he tilted his head to his side:

  * You did it for yourself. And dedication has nothing to do with it.

  * People were dying there, - Jilk squeezed out these words with effort, as if he had forgotten how to speak.

  * These are the details. People always die. The course of common fate is such that it is impossible to avoid the inevitable. Yes, you brought them this vaccine, and hundreds of thousands did not die then. They will die later. From natural disasters, catastrophes, or war that suddenly began. Have you not noticed this? Oh yes, you live too little. Hmm. Lina Sue. A real girl is a diamond, such a girl will not spend her years on infantile insignificance. She died, Jilk, she burned out from radiation. And she did not need any honors. Like this.

Lina Sue suddenly appeared next to Jilk's, spoke on the right, stopped in front of him - as then, she was beautiful. A light pink dress, fitted with a narrow white sash, trembled slightly in a gentle breeze, her skin seemed to glow - transparent, white marble. She smiled at him with her usual smile, black hair fell on her shoulders:

  * I've been waiting, Jilk, when you yourself will understand. I did not love you.

Looking at her, Jilk gasped with excitement, wanted to say something to her and could not, he just looked into her face and listened to her words, amazed by her presence, crushed by the meaning of her words, as if these words could have something for him now the meaning that they would have had many, many years ago.

Lina disappeared just as suddenly as she had appeared.

  * A pitiful sight, Jilk. I can't look at it. Sorry, I can't, - the guest laughed shortly again.\- Can't you see it yourself? You are a lonely, narcissistic nothingness. To love nothingness is impossible. People like you must live and die alone. This is your destiny, your fate. Each person comes to his world with his own destiny, Jilk. Each has his own stamp, his own marking and no one is able to live his life otherwise than as indicated in his technical passport. Take a closer look at yourself, about your life. It is written there "Lonely", it means "insignificant." It is foolish not to admit it. And you are not only a fool, but also a liar.

Jilk was silent.

He looked at the guest, looked at the shades of the facial expressions of his marble face, and could not, did not want to believe in the veracity of his words.

  * What about betrayal? I hope you won't deny this? Who are you all running from? I'll tell you from whom. You are running away from yourself. Yes, yes, do not argue. Not with me.

Jilk's feelings seemed to be pierced by an electric current, his memory was cut by the appeared "song" of Spark Whisper. The girl stood to the left of the cabin wall, where the porthole gaped with a black round spot, her face lit up by the fire of the fireplace, pink sparkles were tangled in her hair, her lips were motionless, they were silent, but her "song", sincere and piercing, shook Jilk's soul in her big eyes, a violet fire flared up.

She sang to him about love and the promise of happiness, she sang to him that he was the only joy for her, her expectation, her passion ...

Jilk wanted to get to his feet, but could not, they seemed to have turned into pieces of cotton wool, did not obey. Shaking his head, he shouted to the guest:

  * Stop it!

Spark Whisper disappeared.

  * What to stop, Jilk? Your life? After all, this is your life. I didn't change anything or invent it. You are pitiful, like any insignificance. First you rejoice at what you have, and then you shout, "this is not mine"!- The guest put his hand with the pipe on his left knee and leaning forward, he said.- You are a fool, a liar and a traitor. You didn't even remember them! Never! Wife and son, Jilk, wife and son ... You listened to Spark, you liked being loved. But you did not love. And so your Dana left you. You're a cruel piece of shit.

  * It was hypnosis ...

  * Yes, sure. All of you say it this way. Nobody wants to be responsible for their misconduct, everyone wants to blame me, as if I were doing their work for them. Jilk, this is ridiculous. You are lying, but I am to blame, you are betraying each other, and I am again to blame. How can you live with all this? I do not understand. And now you decide to become a killer. Why did you fly on the "Arrow's"? To kill me? Why Jilk? For what? What have I done so wrong with you or others? Answer me.

Having asked this question, the guest, as if calmed down, leaned back in the chair, plunged into her shadow, merged with her.

Only a black pipe threw out sparks of pink sparks flying to the ceiling, and two diamonds on his hands sparkled and burned with blue and pink.

Jilk tried to gather his thoughts.

If you believe what the guest is saying, then he and this chair with a fireplace will become real, and then it will be impossible to get out from under his spell, and reality will mix with sleep, and the devouring flame of burning stars will break free.

And then there will be death.

For all.

Jilk knew this and held on to it. In a conversation with a guest, it is difficult to stand on his feet. But if you ask for mercy, then you will die. It is worth to step back at least once, and you will not come back.

  * You sow evil. You are killing peoples. You are the killer.

The words Jilk's said seemed to sound like thunder. It was a charge.

And the frantic flame in the fireplace suddenly stopped, the pink sparks stopped in the guest's pipe, the star wind stopped and disappeared, and Jilk realized that what he had said to the guest now was already written in fiery letters in a nuclear fire of burning stars, and the whole universe froze , listening to the silence that arose, awaiting an answer.

It was an accusation and the answer will certainly be true and explaining everything, inexorable.

The fire in the fireplace cracked again, the guest's pipe threw out a bunch of pink cheerful sparks.

  * So I'm a monster. So Jilk?- The guest spoke in a calm, even voice, the voice of a knowing truth, a confident person.- I am a monster. Do you think so. Do you know how many worlds I've seen? How many fates have passed in front of me? It is impossible to count them. And you know what else? They were all the same. All without exception. No, of course, they were different creatures and their life was arranged differently. I'm not saying that one of them was thin, but some were fat. Do you understand what I am talking about?\- The guest laughed. He laughed for a long time, and it seemed to Jilk's that during the guest's laugh, the stars in the universe managed to go a greater way in eternity and grow old. The guest stopped laughing, was silent for a while, lighting his endlessly burning pipe, and spoke.\- I'll show you something.

Jilk suddenly found himself in a different place- the cabin and guest disappeared, giving way to a cloudy landscape, a low plain. A gloomy sky hung over the gray, cracked earth. Jilk did not immediately realize what he was seeing, his inner man tried not to understand what was opening before him. A huge escalator, standing on thin, metal trusses, rose high up and on its ribbed, dirty tape, lay naked, dead bodies. Where the nose of the escalator was broken by a creaking roller, stood a wide, immense mountain of corpses - naked, pale, blackened from soot, and beneath it a crude-looking iron machine, spitting out into this mountain the long tongues of flame — bright, roaring.

And at the foot of the escalator itself, people swarmed with faces similar to horse muzzles - elongated, with a thin narrow mouth, and they quickly and energetically pulled naked, disfigured bodies from the bodies of other iron machines, dragged them along the gangways to the top of the escalator and threw them down.

Jilk saw several strange-looking people, dressed in a blue uniform, who were embracing, with their heads bowed on their side, and another, the same as them, in blue uniform was aiming from the camera and saying something to them ... They posed and smiled good-naturedly at the photographer, embracing each other comradely.

Jilk wanted to scream, wanted to get rid of fear and aversion to what he saw, but could not.

Then the picture changed.

He sailed in space and there were alien stars around, bright and large.

A few spaceships, located far from each other, shot green arrows of rays on a blue, transparent planet, and there, in an unknown world, the ocean was boiling and swaying, clubs of thick gray-white steam rose high into the atmosphere, covering the surface of the planet with a dead, black shadow ...

Pictures changed one after another. Beings were not familiar to Jilk's, they, like ghosts of a distant and unknown, appeared and disappeared, accompanied by a roar and scream in languages unknown to him, asking for help, praying for someone, for something.

Their cry died away on a high note - heart-rending, doomed ...

Suddenly, everything stopped. Jilk did not know how much time passed while he watched pictures of distant disasters.

Now the guest was still sitting in his heavy chair by the fireplace, and Jilk himself, dangling his legs from the bed, startled and shocked, looked in front of him, still reliving what he saw.

  * All the same, Jilk. Everywhere the same thing. Nobodies is ever changing. Never. They like to deceive themselves, they love to be well talked about. And they are always insatiable. Envy, greed and lust choke them. It's enough for them to say, go kill those because they are different, and take what belongs to them, to yourself, and it will become yours! And nothing more no need to speak. They joyfully go and kill and rob. Because they really want it, and not because someone told them to do it. They always need a reason to justify their own evil, to give it the meaning of good. But the loot will never be yours. It will eat you like acid. Always and everywhere is one and the same. Nobodies eats each other. Nothing changes. And it doesn't matter what the robbery is about, because of someone else's wife, someone else's planet or clay shard. You always need a reason to justify yourself. Don't you think Jilk what you are doing here? Why are you flying somewhere?

  * You killed Dawn!

  * I AM? Did I kill Dawn? Can you seriously believe that such a monstrous thing can be done? What makes you think that? You were not even embarrassed by the fact that between me and the worlds of the Commonwealth, the abyss of space. How could I destroy them all?

  * You did it.- Jilk was shaking, he still couldn't calm the trembling in his body.- I had dreams.

  * Dreams. Clear. You had dreams. Dreams are a good reason to kill.- The guest laughed.- You saw what I showed you. You see, Jilk, I'm a player. Agree that in my situation it's hard to entertain yourself with anything. But you are even a greater fool than I thought of you. You believed in dreams! Jilk! You're an idiot? Are you one of those cretins who believe in dreams?- The guest laughed out loud, and cast-iron virgins on the fireplace, smiled sweetly at Jilk's.- You saw a dream, which I showed you, and now you ready to die? This is ridiculous. Little of! You go to kill. But you don't even know me. They just told you, kill, and you went. Everything.- The guest sighed heavily and lingeringly and Jilk noticed the staring, condemning glances of the stars.- You are a coward, a liar and a traitor who wants to become a killer. No, no, I'm not dissuading you. This is your personal choice. But you are pathetic Jilk, pathetic and not even funny. You make Me Feel sad.- Jilk noticed how a shadow of grief and sorrow swept through the cabin, blurred the stars under the ceiling and in the blackening porthole, and the two cast-iron girls on the mantelpiece shook their gray heads woefully.- There, on an ancient spaceship, you surprised me. For the first time in a very long time, I was surprised. You risked your life for that florianess, risked when happiness was with you. And you won. It was strong, my boy. This is impressive.

Jilk saw the Guest's eyes glowing with a pale, gray light.

  * Let the Toddler go,- he said suddenly.- Let him go, Jilk.

  * What are you talking about?

  * About who you keep on your ship, about who is killing you. He is a kid. Toddler. Let him go.

The guest fell silent, staring intently into Jilk's face, the pink, luminous smoke of his pipe, spreading on the floor with a sparkling carpet.

  * There is no Toddler on the ship.

  * Get up.

Jilk reluctantly got to his feet.

  * Take a look around.

Jilk looked around and froze.

Where the cabin wall was just behind him, the "Barrier" hangar now rose. In the bright light of the light panels, a huge diamond hanging over the antigravs sparkled and shimmered with colors. Along the diamond sphere, steel tubes sparkling with emitters, they beat in the heart of the "Barrier" with blinding white rays. Jilk took a closer look and saw something that he did not distinguish before - the diamond was saturated with a soft pink glow, it came out of its bowels, spread over the hangar in all directions, stretched in thin streams to the walls.

And Jilk heard his scream.

It was a cry, a mute, soundless cry, desperate, and overwhelmed with pain. Diamond screamed, he screamed without any hope of being heard, unable to stop the torture by the emitting rays piercing him, he screamed and complained to the void.

  * This is Toddler, Jilk. You think he is protecting you. This is not true. You torment him, torture him. He is killing you. He knows everything about you. He will kill you! You gave birth to it, but you do not need it. Let him go. For the first time in my time, I met someone like me. May he be born, not among the stars, may he be small and remain so forever. But he is my brother. Give it to me, Jilk, and we will go into the abyss without harming you. We will go with him to where eternity awaits us. You know loneliness, you can understand. My loneliness is over - Toddler knows me. He is tormented, he is burning. He does not accept his fate, his share is unfair, Jilk.

He looked at the quivering pink glow, at the diamond body scattering by myriads of blinding sparks and listened to the Toddler. Startled, stunned.

It was monstrous, it was unbearable to watch and listen. Diamond in hot rays, as if wriggling, writhed from unbearable pain.

  * Now you know. Now you have no excuse.

  * I ... I do not believe it. - Jilk quietly shook his head, turned shocked at the Guest. - This should not, cannot be!

The guest rose heavily from his chair, stepped toward the side of the wall with a porthole, then suddenly stopped and, looking back at Jilk's, said:

  * You will die. You will all die. And I have nothing to do with it. It's just that you, like night moths, fly into a fire that will burn you all. That is my nature. But I did not call you. Like you, I keep for dessert. And here's what else. That florianess for whom you risked will not risk life for your sake. She will gnaw your throat on occasion. And then she will cry.- He grunted and shook his head.- Go out the door and look. This is my present to you, Jilk. My hint to you.

And the guest has disappeared.

Jilk did not see either a chair or a fireplace, the stars went out under the ceiling, the "Barrier" disappeared behind him, giving way to the usual wall.

But nothing has ended yet.

There was a noise.

He listened.

The noise grew like a snowball, it gained strength, widened, like a rising wave. Noise from a lot of running legs.

Jilk stood up and went to the door from his cabin, opened it wide, stepped into the corridor, dimly lit by torches protruding from the walls. There were no light panels.

A stream of figures, naked, pale, rushing towards him, dozens, maybe hundreds of bodies, colliding and flying at each other, ran along the corridor, silently, without words and screams, they hurried, hurried somewhere. He looked at the runners and did not see their faces. There were no faces. Only rounded, pale ovals on thin necks.

They could not scream.

Jilk screamed.

And he woke up.

******* *******

He woke up and the sound of a loud pop, somewhere outside the cabin door, sounded disgusting in his ears. A light panel in the center of the ceiling brightly illuminated the entire cabin room with a dull, white light, an unpleasant smell of sour floated. Jilk stood up, pulled up the bulging right leg of his jumpsuit\- crumpled and smelling sweat, and limping on his left foot, he headed for the door. He went out into the dimly lit corridor - the only light panel that was on now was shining with its yellow, muddy square, in front of Jilk, at the very intersection, where there were empty officer cabins for the future "Arrow" crew. Someone ran towards him, in white overalls, looking awkwardly back and falling over on his left side.

Zhum Ou.

Jilk watched as the florian fell to the floor, and rolled onto his back, tried to rise to his feet, holding a gun in his right hand, as if covering his face with it. Something dark was blurring on Ou's right shoulder.

A shot came and the florian leaned sharply on back, crawled to the wall, pushing his legs off the floor, arched, growled.

Because of the turn, a second figure ran out - a blue jumpsuit, a hand with a gun extended at eye level.

Aaoli.

Having quickly run a few meters, and stopped three steps from Zhum Ou lying on the floor, she shot him twice.

The officer twitched and fell silent.

Jilk flinched.

Aaoli turned away and looked towards the empty and quiet intersection.

  * What's here ...- Jilk coughed, loudly.

  * Are you all asleep?- Florianess turned in his direction and went towards him with a quick step.\- They killed Loria and Suny.

  * Who?- Jilk stared at her, not understanding what she was talking about, and looked from Aaoli to Ou's body.

Jilk's head hummed like a cauldron, everything floated before his eyes.

  * Quickly to the command compartment!

And they ran.

Jilk immediately lagged behind the florianess.

He ran, limping on his left leg, which seemed to him shorter than his right, and already at the elevator shaft of the longline, having caught up with Aaoli waiting for the elevator, he looked down. A shoe was put on his right foot, his left was barefoot. Jilk nervously began to pull the boot off his leg.

  * What's happening?

  * They rebelled.\- Aaoli turned to the opening doors of the approaching elevator and dragged Jilk behind her.- Major and Loria are killed. I shot Stone Storm. Ou, you saw. Where and what with the rest, I don't know. And get your gun already!

Jilk climbed into the holster that hung on his belt. Dull pain beat somewhere in his crown, spilled hot lead, burned his eyes, prevented him from concentrating.

The elevator quickly delivered them to the twenty-first tier and, running along an empty corridor to the command compartment, they entered the hatch.

The command compartment was empty.

The large CC room, aligned along the walls with appliances and control panels, was lit with control light panels on the far walls, empty chairs waiting for their operators.

Aaoli pressed the red button to the right of the entrance hatch, and it closed silently. Above him flashed an inscription with the word "blocking".

They approached a small remote control, on which a red indicator was brightly lit, and almost immediately the monotonous voice of the computer announced:

  * A code has been accepted to launch the second rescue shuttle. Gateway is complete. Two minutes before the start.

  * Glack! I knew it!

  * We can block them.- Jilk moved toward the control panel, but the florianess stopped him.

  * It is too early.

For two minutes they silently looked at the overview screen above the remote control, then blue light flashed brightly on it, the shuttle shunting engines appeared. The shuttle itself was drowning in darkness, merging with space, only two faded spots of marker lights accompanied the outbreaks of shunting engines.

  * Now we can end them.- Aaoli sat in the operator's chair, turned to Jilk, said.- Activate manual control of plasma guns.

Jilk stared silently at the diminishing shuttle fire.

  * Do not let them go, Jilk!

  * Not. Let them fly.

  * Noob!

The shuttle was rapidly moving away from the cruiser.

Suddenly his engines went out, and after a few seconds, chaotic blue flashes of orientation engines appeared - the shuttle slowly began to fall over his nose, and the starboard side. Then his nose lifted up.

The little spaceship tumbled.

It seemed that his flight became uncontrollable.

  * They're done, Aaoli. Everything.

Jilk turned away and sat on the chair next to her, looking at the floor.

  * The end...

******* *******

Glack Nou, not yet fastening his seat belt, was already typing in front of him a cipher of access to the shuttle's control systems. The pilot compartment was light. Next to him, Wind Skat settled in his chair.

  * They can shoot us with plasma guns, Glack.

Glack did not answer.

He had just entered the last digits of the cipher into the computer, and now he was looking in front of himself at the rectangular screen, waiting for the response of the on-board computer.

  * Ri will not shoot us in the back,- said Glack.- I know those.

The cold voice of a computer sounded in the compartment:

  * Officer Glack Nou, your code is verified. Departure allowed.

His hands went to the silver control panel, his fingers touched the luminous keys, and the response to that was the same impassive voice of the computer:

  * The "one" bar is retracted. The "two" bar is retracted. All ship systems are on ...

He tried three times to talk with Ri about the expediency of their expedition, about the fate of Dawn and Floria, about the chaos in the Commonwealth, but each time he met the stupid and adamant decision of the captain to destroy the Object. From conversations with Loria Molly, Glack concluded that it was not the Object, but the "Barrier", that would kill them all. He did not doubt it. And there were dreams — real, colorful dreams, in which he himself seemed to be present, then at the dying Dawn, while on the ships of the Far Fleet, he heard the crying of children and the mute tears of mothers sitting in the corridors and cabins of overloaded spaceships, literally tearing his heart apart.

He could swear that in these dreams he personally knew each of the refugees from Dawn, felt their pain and fear.

"The Object is just a piece of stone," said Zhum Ou, and Glack believed these words.

  * Shield set aside. I give a pre-launch countdown ...

Let them fly, let them die on the doomed Arrow, but there, in the perishing worlds of the Commonwealth, there are those who need help now.

  * Twenty four, twenty three ...

And he dreamed of a father.

  * Father called him.Twelve, eleven, ten, nine ...

Klag was against useless and stupid shooting.

What is the point of organizing a massacre if you can safely depart by shuttle from the cruiser, leaving the madmen to do their crazy job. Of course, the death of the Aloin Disc and the Autumn South was tragic. But Loria herself spoke of "external emitters," and Glack seriously feared that they would become victims of these very emitters, and not of the mystical power of the Object.

The goal must be achieved.

So, measures were taken against the escape from the cruiser.

He glanced briefly under his feet - below, to the left of his legs, stood a small black box of a converter.

Glac grinned, cunning, outwitted themselves. Here it is protection against the "Barrier", and there, further from the "Arrow", they will no longer need black boxes.

He glanced briefly at the Syllable.

The Syllable Trevon sat in an armchair to the right of Glac - calm and unperturbed. Glack looked at him and turned away.

This Syllable is a tough guy. As if he didn't care what was happening now.

And Ka, Thunderstorm and Ou stupid idiots. They decided just before departure to visit the ship's doctors and stock up on medicines for bleeding.

The bright, yellow light panel above his head flooded with his light, a long control panel, playing with colored highlights on the pearl handles of the helm.

  * Seven, six, five ...

He could not stop them.

And he will not wait for anyone.

  * Two, one. The outer wall is set aside, the hangar is open. Exit is allowed.

He already held the helm in his hands.

The shuttle body moved on the stocks from its place, moved toward the open opening of the exit hatch - large, square, black, on the shining walls of the hangar, red numbers flashed in red to the position bar located immediately on the other side of the cruiser.

Go! Go! Go!...

On the orientation screen, like a straw on the water, the image of the red scale of the readings of the tilt angles swayed, somewhere in the stern of the revived shuttle, with short blue flashes illuminated the hangar room, the nozzles of the engines.

Came out - in the blackness of space, unblinking stars burned - bright and large. Dimensional bar - steel farm, with five bright, yellow lights, sailed by.

  * Now home,- Trevon said calmly.

Glack activated the running engines with the keys on the handles of the helm. There was a short jingle of a signal.

  * Running gear included. Power is 40 percent, 45 percent. Thrust on the acceleration schedule. Not ready for overclocking. Power 65 percent, ...- the computer said words dryly.

He bent a little, looked at the black box at his feet, smiled. Trevon and Skat left their neutralizers at the entrance to the compartment.

However, this is not important.

Glack slightly pulled the helm toward himself - the luminous scales of the engine thrust readings on the screen swayed, green lines crawled up them ...

He had already taken the shuttle away from "Arrow" to a distance allowing maneuver and gave a roll to the left, getting up on a given course.

  * Ready for overclocking.

With the thumb of his right hand, Glack pressed the purple key on top of the right hand grip of the steering wheel; the shuttle faltered, responded with a low rumble of the running engines that started.

Glack suddenly became overwhelmed, as if he were doing something wrong now.

He shook his head, away from doubt.

Forward!

Overloads started.

The body slowly poured heaviness, the hands on the helm became heavy, the head "stuck" with the back of the head to the head of the chair.

Glack's feelings became aggravated and his anxiety unexpectedly grew into something more, began to gravitate over him, grew like a snowball, was indicated by new shades of emotions, like a diamond that showed its many facets.

Silence and a growing rumble reigned in the compartment.

Glack's gaze froze on the blue screen.

Anxiety reborn. His feelings underwent a frightening metamorphosis, they changed, intensified, reached their climax, and already seemed alien to him, imposed.

It was a yearning.

She came from the darkness of the cosmos that came into motion, flowed into the compartment, like a choking gas, heavy as a lead slab, colder than ice, digging into the very inside of a person, brought with it pain of incomprehensible, alien experiences.

  * I am alone.

Glack unexpectedly said this to himself and was not even surprised - everything was clear and natural, as if he had lived all his life with these feelings, thoughts and images.

Endless, piercing longing seized him.

  * I am alone!

Glack's consciousness split into itself. One part of it plunged headlong into the horrors of eternal darkness and loneliness, the other panicked, sounded the alarm in front of something new and alien.

He heard the words of Skat Wind:

  * Jumping, jumping, jumping, jumping, I can not find the sock.

Stupid, inappropriate here, nursery rhyme.

The roar of engines grew, the dashboard in front of it sparkled with indicator lights.

  * Jump, jump, jump jump ...

Glack looked fascinated in front of him, and his gaze distinguished tiny pink sparks that appeared from nowhere. They seeped through the control panel, thickened with a thin luminous film, tightened the keys and screens, crawled along the helm, ghostly, sparkling with myriads of sparks, swift. And each such spark was for Glack a razor-sharp thought.

  * I am alone. It'll be this way forever.

Hot, stuffy longing, and from this longing, his body and thoughts became numb, his eyes were riveted to pink sparks, he was forced to listen to feelings rushing from somewhere - heavy, raging, feelings that he could not express in words.

There was a soft and loud sound of a blow from Scat Wind.

Glack forced himself to turn his head to the right and saw him.

Scat stood on his feet in front of the control panel, holding his hands tightly on the side panels of the control screen - his knuckles turned white from tension. Skat Wind stood straight, like a stick, his nose turned into a flattened red lump, his upper lip wrapped inside his mouth, and a white, dazzling white tooth sticking out of that lip, piercing it through and through. Glack saw the red blood of the Wind, pushed out of what was once a nose, flowed down his chin, a wide scarlet stream, descending on his bare neck.

Wind grunted loudly and sharply with force, hit face on the sharp edge of the screen, straightened up again, looked with a glassy look in front of him. The white fragment of the tooth, now moved to the lower protruding lip, its mouth increased, and the remnants of the nose were even more dented in the face ...

  * Jump, jumf, f, f... I can not finf,... f...

A piercing, subtle screech arose to the left of Glack - tall and long, unnatural, scary. He turned away from the Wind and looked toward Trevon.

Trevon has changed.Sitting in his chair with his head up, he tried to rip off his face.

From the red mush, once Trevon's former face, Glack could only identify the eye - a huge, bulging, over a hanging lower eyelid. Where the cheek of Trevon's was, the upper jaw was now grinning ugly and bloody. In the bright light of the lightbar above his head, Trevon's blood glittered with piercing, pale violet.

Trevon screeched long and lingering.

  * I will be left alone.- Glack spoke these words, looking at the agony of the Trevon.

That part of Glack, which still resisted the feelings pressing on him, for a short time began to beat energetically and wildly, made his hands to act, and his head to turn away.

Glack unfastened his seatbelts and they crawled to the sides like wide black worms. He let go of the helm, which was no longer necessary for him, and began to crawl out of the chair down to the floor toward the luminous pink shroud.

  * Juf,...f, juf...

He knew that in a moment he would lose himself, cease to be the very Glack he had known all his life, and would become something insignificant, miserable, without a name.

  * ... Cock, not...

It seemed to Glack that he screamed, but he could only open his mouth and stare in horror at the chair in front of him.

An iron spasm bound his throat, strangled a scream that wanted to break out.

With his right hand, he unzipped a holster from his belt and took out a pistol.

Glack Nou, the assistant to the captain of the cruiser "Arrow", before dying, managed to shoot himself in the chest twice. He fell like a shapeless cul under the control panel, looking in front of him with wide open, moistly shining eyes.

******* *******

Aaoli stepped over the dead man's legs in the doorway and stopped in front of Jilk, who was waiting for them.

Her green, catlike eyes glared at his face.

  * You gave them the opportunity to leave,- the florianess stood very close to Jilk, hanging over him, and a restrained rage was felt in her voice.\- You did not finish the job.

She turned away and walked down the corridor.

After a couple of seconds, he still turned to look after her, as if wanting to shout something to her. Aaoli walked away with a quick, firm gait and, reaching the intersection, turned right.

Everything.

She is gone.

Jilk remained standing still.

He was tormented by a feeling of loathing — towards himself, towards what was behind the door of the medical compartment behind him, to this empty, giant cruiser, to all this venture with the destruction of the Object.

He turned to the ajar door, looked at the legs protruding from it in heavy, black boots. Both legs of the dead man's light green overalls lifted their hairy, powerful legs, spots of darkened, already dried blood stretched from the socks of the boots above to the calves.

A bright, white light poured from the medical compartment, it highlighted a long, bright strip on the floor, on which bloody prints of boots were clearly visible - a large bloody daub, resembling a monstrous comma in shape, returned to the door and ended at the dead man's motionless legs.

The florian Hyun Ka was killed.

Jilk remembered Ka's torn throat, the blood-soaked rags of his overalls, and felt his stomach nauseously tighten, his mouth filled with saliva.

Jilk spat on the floor.

Out of the door came Sol Dean. He stopped a step away from Jilk, unnaturally neat now, in a new blue overalls and clean soft shoes. Sol's hair was combed and smooth, shone with steel.

  * Aaoli where?

  * She is gone.

They were silent for a while.

They were going to go to the technical tier behind the self-propelled cart to take the bodies to the airlock.

  * Tressa died promptly, - Sol Dean was silent for a moment and added. - Guen, dying, killed the bastard.

  * Let's go,- said Jilk.

They slowly moved along the corridor to the elevator shafts.

  * We'll bury everyone today,- Jilk did not look at Sol.- Aaoli ... Sami, without her.

They silently reached the bright platform and stopped in front of the white doors of the elevator, with a large, black number "1".

And Sol said:

  * Now there are three of us.

******* *******

Chapter 5.

Star of Hope.

The cruiser's library was spacious, even too much. Its large room, the size of which was not inferior to a larger gym, had a high ceiling- white matte, and round lamp shades descended from him on long, black cords. Lampshades were made of dark green fabric, they hung over polished tables, like large festive umbrellas. They created an atmosphere of comfort, which was complemented by the walls of the library, trimmed with stained wood, with the same wooden rows of bookcases.

The illusion of presence, somewhere in the library of Dawn, was very strong here.

The screens mounted in the tables made it possible to read books electronically, and if the reader wanted to use a real paper book, then it could be taken from the cupboards. It even smelled the same as in the Dawn libraries; it smelled of paper pages, book bindings and dust.

Neither Jilk nor Sol have read a single book here.

They gathered in the library for daily gatherings, having stopped spending time in the wardroom.

That was Sol's idea.

Aaoli rarely came here. For some reason she did not like it here.

A few days have passed since the departure of the evacuation team.

Jilk and Saul were located at the extreme table near the wall, where the nearest catering machine was located, the lights were turned on exclusively at his table and nowhere else.

They drank hot, sweet tea from large, metal mugs. On the table there was an oval dish - imitation of porcelain, with a slide of crumbly cookies.

  * To be honest, I'm not really worried about this,- Sol sat opposite in a deep, soft chair, resting his elbows on the table.- But you never know what can happen just before ... the final.

Jilk shrugged his shoulders vaguely; he didn't want to talk about this subject, and they had not discussed this with Sol for the first time:

  * What can happen? Five days later we will come to the point of "return", we will shuttle and evacuate from the cruiser.- Jilk threw his right foot on his left, shook his toe shoes.\- The last twelve hours of the flight, the "Arrow" will fly without us. The computer will decide what to do. If unforeseen interference does not occur, then the rocket with the "Clap" will be dropped, and the cruiser will catch up with us in three weeks. U-turn maneuver too big. If it turns out that the rocket does not break through to the Object, the "Arrow" will reach it and explode along with the "Clap" aboard. That's all, Sol. That's all. Then, in this case, we will have to fly to Dawn two months longer.

Sol looked towards the dark hall of the library, squinted, then spoke irritably:

  * Where does he disappear? We've been waiting for an hour.

  * He will come. He checks the shuttle fuel system. This is a long song.

  * He goes there every day. This is mania. You would forbid him anything. He will go crazy.

  * And who will do this? Prior to the evacuation, shuttles were managed by Hyun Ka and Wind Skat.

Sol Dean looked Jilk in the face with displeasure, said:

  * In vain you let themfly away. Now there are four of us, and with them would be twelve.

  * Think rebellion is better? "Arrow" will bring to the Object and one, there is nothing to hang out here all ...- Jilk hesitated, paused, choosing the right word, but changed his mind and uttered.\- They will fly to Dawn without incident. Glack and Suny are able to maintain discipline. In addition, Tressa and Guen flew with them. You yourself have seen the state of the Slog. What about Diski? Ahd Au? They would not have reached the end of the expedition.

Sol Dean suddenly laughed:

  * There are the most iron guys!

  * It's good that Aaoli doesn't hear you. She is not a guy.

Jilk laughed at this joke of his own, Sol neighing at the top of his voice and both at that moment seemed happy, like children.

Jilk laughed to tears. And as usual, Rain Ash appeared suddenly, like a little devil from a snuff-box. Tall, middle-aged, fair-haired, with a round, smiling face, he was dressed in white, a new jumpsuit and black soft shoes.

Approaching the table at which Jilk and Sol were sitting, Rain flopped into his chair, fell apart in it, looking at his friends and dipping them into the atmosphere of his tart cologne.

  * Hello to the workers.

  * Hi Rain.

  * Hi.

  * Loafers slip-ons,- Rain Ash questioningly examined the smooth surface of the table: - Something I do not see my cup of tea.

  * You go yourself,\- Sol grinned at him.- You know where the food block is.

  * I will go down myself.- Rain got to his feet and, already leaving, said to them over his shoulder.- But you will be punished for that.

  * Now he'll start torturing us with cards again, - Sol scratched his nose.- And he won't get tired!

  * He was always a player at the university. He was nearly kicked out.

  * Better kicked out. Now we would fly with someone calmer.

Rain returned to them, gently carrying a large steel mug in his right hand, put it on the table and sat in his chair. Smoke of steam rose from the mug.

  * Well, let's play?

  * Rain, come on not today,\- Jilk frowned.- The mood is not that. Also your cologne ... I don't understand, for whom do you stink here? From a bucket, do you pour on yourself?

  * Old man! - Rain raised the index finger of his left hand, his right hand already launched into the breast pocket of his overalls.\- Accustom yourself to smell good. Ladies at Dawn will appreciate it.

  * Do not advise him. He has a wife and a son.

  * And what about me?- He pulled a deck of cards from his pocket.- I'm not campaigning for fornication.

  * I am a family man, Rain. It's forbidden for me to stink.- Jilk watched him shuffle a deck of cards and began to deal them.\- Aaoli will ever drive you out of here for this stink.

  * Trumps, old people. Trumps-clubs! - Solemnly announced Rain Ash.

  * How tired of all this .- Sol Dean took a deep breath and took his cards.\- And why we tolerate this is not clear. He will win anyway.

  * Not in my rules, succumb to flawed simpletons, - Rain looked at his cards, his face became thoughtful, he was already mumbling some motive.

Jilk liked their gatherings. At such moments you forget where you are and why.

Rain Ash.

He thought that it was very good that they had gathered on "Arrow", just like in childhood, when Sol lived with his parents in the next block from Jilk, and Rain came to his grandmother for summer vacations. These were fabulous times, now they can't be returned, but sometimes he really wanted to be there, again to look into the House of Designers and look at the current models of antigravs.

Or go to the river and for a long time, without getting out of the water, ride three together on a submerged, knotty log- until blue in the face, to a strong tremor in the whole frozen body, and shout to each other nonsense, and row and waving hands, or to dive from a larger, granite rock that, like the head of a sleeping giant, was sticking out of the water, almost at the very shore. He had not seen Rain since the days of the academy, where he studied for six years as a friendly company - Jilk, Rain, Sol and Mau. Jolly Mau, Jilk saw before flying to the "Arrow" - he came to escort him to the spaceport, smart, solemn. Dana did not love Mau, she always quarreled with him. But Jilk Jr. was delighted with Mau.

  * This is what I will tell you, old people ...

Jilk hardly listened to Rain.

He liked that they gathered like this, as simple as in previous years, liked to listen to the Rain's tales, his skirmishes with Sol, and all this made up a single part of his inner comfort, the mosaic from which the days on "Arrow" were formed, their internal filling. The fact that many of the crew decided to leave them and go to Dawn, even for the better. Immediately disappeared nervousness in communication, alertness and distrust. Those who were supposed to stay were left, those to whom trust has no borders are- friends.

  * So, Sol, - Rain Ash continued to speak, tossing the last card.- If over the years spent in the academy, you have not mastered the simplest game of cards, then I have questions to protect your diploma ...

  * My diploma doesn't concern you. I earned it, in misery! Blood and sweat... A!

  * Ready!- Rain laughed merrily.\- Sol, knead the deck. We will fly another five days. We'll do the job, and on the way back I will take your training seriously.

  * Schuler. - Sol began to deal cards, his appearance was concentrated and stupid.

Aaoli came.

Florianess looked careless and cheerful.

A red, artificial rose was inserted into the upper right breast pocket of her yellow jumpsuit, her hair was pulled into a short braid on the crown.

  * Kittens are idlers,- she looked at Rain, asked.- Rain, what about our shuttle?

  * With our shuttle, ma'am, everything is in order. You can make me an official request and I will give you a complete, detailed report.

She sat between Jilk and Rain, opposite the silent Sol, and, bending over to the Rain, said with her smile, in the style of "Oh well":

  * Rain, if at least something happens ...

  * Aaoli! I have already checked all systems three times.

  * I'll gnaw off your ears, dear. Your saturated with cologne ears are.

Sol handed out cards to her.

Jilk was fine and calm.

Listening to the conversations of friends, he thought about another five days of flight, and they would fly home.

Of course, a few months, this is a long time. But it will be the way home. The road home is always easier. Jilk knew this from the time he drove the old "Fat Man" cargo spaceship ...

  * Cheater!- Aaoli laughed out loud.

Judging by the ship's clock, it was now afternoon. Today or tomorrow his have to go through the Bomb Bay inspection. There, in a huge hangar, is a rocket with a "Clap".

"Tomorrow,"-Jilk decided.

May today pass like this, serene and without fuss.

He thought of a shuttle.

Of course, this is not a cruiser, with its vast spaces, but the shuttle also could not be called small. In terms of size, it was hardly inferior to a third-class spaceship and had everything necessary for the life and comfort of a multi-month flight.

He grinned, remembering Glack Nou, the way he kept himself while discussing evacuation. Glack was not an actor, and Jilk saw in his face a barely restrained joy in deciding to send a shuttle with everyone to Dawn.

Jock Suni, an old alcoholic, struggled hard, argued that "everything will be in order" with him, even when Guen and Tressa unanimously declared that the major would not endure the full flight.

Jock Suni.

Tressa Iga.

Guen Kha.

Au.

He missed them. Jilk found himself thinking about the major, the two doctors of the crew and Autumnal, sadness was on him, as if they had not left on a shuttle, but died here. Long...

For a moment, he seemed to see a ghost- lying on the floor of dead Guen, in a larger crimson puddle. He lay face down, and in his back, covered in white overalls, there were five small holes from which blood poured the back and hips of the florianin. And as if Tressa Iga had fallen asleep, with her head resting on the table, sitting in an armchair, her thickened black hair was crumpled by thickened blood ...

Jilk flinched and repelled this vision with an inner effort and remembering how he escorted them to the shuttle. They were alive. The major even told him a anecdote.

Only Jilk still could not remember this joke.

He felt ashamed that he could think of them as dead.

After returning to Dawn, his should have a good rest. No flights. Only family and home. He will spend all his time with his wife and son. And no business, no worries. Moreover, Rain is unlikely to disappear for a long time on Ore ...

As always, losing to the cards, Jilk looked at Aaoli. Behind her were long rows of books, old and new, in dark, cramped binders, made of cardboard and leather. In the shadow of the shelves it seemed to him that he could see the matte, fallen dust. On the binding of one of the books - dark brown, with gold embossing, Jilk read - "Walking Thunder. The philosophy of the worlds. " He could not remember for sure, but he was sure that the author of this "philosophy" - Walking Thunder, lived long before the Big Flash, probably five or six thousand years ago, and was considered the most outstanding philosopher of antiquity. Jilk never read it.

He did not like philosophy at all, but looking at the spine of the book, at its dull, golden letters, at the dust adhering to her cardboard, Jilk felt a feeling like regret, as if this book was standing on a shelf in oblivion, there was a bitter injustice to to its author, Thunder, and reading it, or at least starting, going through several chapters, would be honest and decent with respect to this long-dead man ...

And further.

He thought it was very strange to see, on the almost empty and uninhabited "Arrow", this huge library.

As if waking up, Jilk looked at Aaoli.

Florianess sat without looking at her cards that she held in her hands, a thoughtful smile played on her thin lips.

  * We'll come back and I will never leave Floria, - she said.\- The husband will not let go,\- and Aaoli laughed happily, joyfully and lightly.- Yes, and it's time to get kittens. You are bothering me. Especially you, Rain. And your cards!

She sawJilk looking at her and showed him his tongue.

  * You and I will not meet for a long time.

Jilk looked at her happy face, at the gleam in her green cat's eyes, and there was a aching feeling in him that was not appropriate here and now, as if he felt sorry for her in something unconscious, incomprehensible.

Sol threw the cards on the table.

Sol was tired of everything.

  * Everything! Basta!\- Sol Dean leaned back in his chair, stretched his shoulders.- I can't take it anymore. Ti- i- ired of it!

  * Guys, why are you? There's still plenty of time until the evening!

  * I'm going to the Bomb Bay,- Jilk put the cards on the table, with undisguised relief.\- Now without me.

  * You'll go tomorrow,- Rain insisted.

  * Rain, your cards are already sick of everyone!- Aaoli snorted.- Better to sing songs all day than to lose to you. For example, I know a lot of songs. Oh Jilk? Do you have any favorite song?

  * Guys, - Rain shook his head. - It's not serious ...

  * Jilk.

  * I am not a fan of singing. You know.

  * Jilk, sing your song. Well, I beg you. I never heard him sing.- Aaoli laughed.

Something is broken.

As if at that moment an icy, thorny wind blew into the atmosphere of the library. And you can no longer ignore him, but you are looking for the reason why it has become cold, and trembling has touched your body.

They still said something, but Jilk did not listen to them. He froze, listening to his feelings, trying to figure out what this dissonance had suddenly arisen from, as if, having seen the thing he needed in a pile of rubbish, Jilk began to scoop up the excess, making his way to what caught his attention.

  * Jilk, what's wrong with you?

  * He doesn't want to sing ...

Sing.

Song...

The words formed in Jilk's head in one heavy line, and this line pulled along everything else - forgotten, covered in dust and oblivion. From somewhere in the depths of his consciousness, a phrase came out, gradually acquiring sound and meaning, it flashed before him, like a Big Star floods the midday world, like a hurrying business man who is in a hurry, who pushes everything and everyone in his path.

"Sing your song ..."

No, not all. There was something else.

And he remembered.

"Sing your song, guy."

Jilk seemed to rise from under the water — rowing with his hands with all his might, looking to where a glimpse of light could be seen. He felt himself waking up from a dream, but this dream still did not let go of his consciousness, stuck to him, enveloped him, lulled him, tried to maintain his power over Jilk.

Who told him that? Whose words were these?

"Sing your song, guy."

The environment began to stall, to move away from Jilk's consciousness, to become unreal.

He answered that man, then. Said that... What did he tell him?

And Jilk remembered what he had answered that man.

"I will sing."

He even remembered that man's hands — lean, aging hands, with parchment skin and whitened knuckles.

That man's name was Iil Mavr.

And they talked with him just before Jilk's departure on the "Arrow", in an office with a large, bright window.

"- Sing your song, guy."

"\- I'll sing."

The truth that fell upon him turned out to be monstrous. For a moment, Jilk could still maintain his former, recent perception of the environment and the state of things in him, could avoid what was opening before his inner gaze, could stop, stop this effort and fall back into calm and happy ignorance.

"\- Sing your song" ...

It was a commitment.

A promise that was too much behind, too heavy and terrible for him to neglect.

Iel Mavr.

In that office, before his departure, Iil Mavr said:

  * Sing your song, guy.

And then:

  * You're a lucky guy, Jilk. You have a happy star. I put everything on your star. Whatever happens, the captain must not leave his bridge, Jilk...

This memory, and with it the awareness of what was happening, fell upon him like a stream of cold water.

Jilk seemed to wake up.

He sat with his eyes closed, covering his face with his palms - startled, already knowing that he had rid himself of lies.

His head hurt a lot, sharp, piercing pain, beating in his temples, spread to the back of the head and crown, a dreary, sickening wave. And was still a smell. The strong, beating in the nose, the smell of a body that has not been washed for a long time, sour and musty, as if stiff from a close pile of not washed, rotten linen. Jilk was horrified by the presence of this stink.

Someone move next to him.

He removed his hands from his face and looked.

Aaoli, hunched over by the old lady, lowered her head, her hands hung limply along her body — she went to the open door. The only control lamp was yellow and muddy, sticking out under the high ceiling of the technical unit, where containers with various tools stood, dimly lit her back, covered with gray overalls.

She silently went out into the corridor.

  * Rain Ash,- came the voice of Sol next to Jilk's.\- Longtime friend, great guy!

Jilk turned to his voice.

They sat on low, steel containers arranged around a massive tool table, scattered round, like tennis balls, indicators were lying on the floor, someone's forgotten army boot, heavy, black, stood almost in the corner of a small compartment, a crumpled, bloodied T-shirt, with a hardened lump peeking out from under the table from the side of the empty container on which Rain should have sat.

Jilk stared at this T-shirt with the long, stubborn look of a man who was not ready for a new reality.

It was like they had been sitting here for a long time.

Sol Dean laughed hoarsely.

  * Jilk! And it was so ... so simple!

Now he looked at Sol Dean.

  * What do you remember before the Rain?

Sol stopped laughing, his face froze.

  * I do not know. Hard to say.

Sol's face was decorated with a larger bruise- from the temple, he covered his entire right cheek and sank to his chin. The bruise was already blackened and began to blur with yellowness and green. The right eyelid somehow slid down and twitched at times, and his mouth twisted, as if Sol was capriciously curving his lips, cracked, with clotted blood clots in the corners, under an already overgrown mustache and a thick beard stubble.

Sol's hair stuck out in sebaceous tufts.

Not agile, languid thoughts Jilk, sleepy and like strangers, reluctantly tossing and turning in his head, gave rise to vague, hardly recognizable images.

  * What happened to your face?

  * What my face?- Sol carefully touched his right cheek, eyelid, nose.- I hardly feel it.

  * You fell?

  * Maybe I fell.- Sol spoke the words as if drunk.- I do not remember...

  * Come on!

Jilk was already getting on his feet, hard, uncertainly, he was swaying from side to side, and the stubborn floor did not want to calm down in any way, he strove to jump out from under his legs, floated away, then to the left, then to the right.

  * Where are you going?

Staggering Jilk came to the door that was open in the corridor, stopped, impatiently waiting for Sol, trailing after him.

  * We do not know how much time has passed. We do not know how much is left to fly to the Object. Maybe "Arrow" is already ...

They left the compartment, reached the elevator platform, then silently rode in a brightly lit elevator to the seventeenth tier.

Jilk was sick, he was dreary.

Once on the seventeenth tier, they moved to the right along the corridor. Everything around was quiet and calm, and in this viscous, languid silence, it seemed to Jilk that they were walking along the street of a dead city long abandoned by everyone.

The first to enter the command compartment was Jilk. Immediately heading to the central control panel — a long, matte-steel one — he sat down in the operator's chair and briefly examined the readings of the instruments.

Sol settled in the chair next to him on the left, extended his legs forward, threw back his head, closed his eyes.

He looked like an old man now.

  * And what about our flying box?

Jilk didn't answer.

Perplexity took hold of him from the beginning, it took several long seconds before understanding what was happening began to reach his consciousness.

With growing horror, he stared at the screen in front of him, where in bright blue, past the schematic designation of the flight of "Arrow's," long columns of symbols stretched.

The shock that Jilk experienced filled him with panic.

He seemed to rest against a blank wall, without signs, just against a wall in the middle of the road.

Looking at the screen, Jilk did not know what was there, did not know the meaning of these mysterious, clear and strict characters in the columns, he could not remember their meaning!

Peering for a long time at the incomprehensible icons on the screen, he tried to strain his memory, to remember what he had known recently. And now, like a glimpse of light at night, the "seven"!

"- This is the" seven "!

He recognized, and was happy about it as a child, he grasped with his thoughts the knowledge that arose, felt that he was returning to the lost.

After a couple of minutes, Jilk recognized the second symbol, "nine," and then his memory opened in him quickly and clearly as if the light had turned on in a dark room.

"Acceleration".

"0705571524028" ...

"Amendment"...

"Yaw".

Pitch ...

Jilk laughed, to tears.

Rejoiced almost screaming with delight. He glanced at Sol, that one, slightly turned his head in his direction, looked with a convex, wary eye.

  * What are you?

Jilk did not answer him, he said turning to the on-board computer, loudly and clearly:

  * Computer! "Arrow's" arrival time to the drop point and maneuver.

The command compartment announced the calm and measured voice of the computer:

  * The goal is unattainable. The reset point and maneuver is absent.

  * What is the reason for not being able to reach the goal?

  * The target changed its flight path. To achieve the goal, it is necessary to amend the movement of the ship.

Two green graphs appeared on the screen, the numbers changed. The red dotted line was an error in the movement of the cruiser. Jilk did not know what to do with it, how much he did not try to focus his attention, his memory refused to give a hint. Where his knowledge should have been — familiar, like arms and legs, the knowledge that he always used with simplicity and ease, now covered in a black, impenetrable curtain.

  * A task. Correct the movement of the ship, return the route to its previous value. Correct course. The course is on the Object!

  * The correction will be made within five hours, ten minutes, forty seconds! The goal will be reached in fifty eight hours, thirty two minutes.\- The computer answered him.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbed his hands over his face, the crust of dried blood on his chin and upper lip, showered with small, dark flakes.

  * Display the Object on the overview screen.

An image appeared on a large overview screen.

It was like a star, a dim, green-blue star, among the white dots of other stars. The object glowed faintly, like a muted nightlight, and through this dull, even glow, in which there were gaps, like in the cloud cover of the sky, a coal-black surface was visible.

Jilk peered at the Object.

There, from beneath a carpet that looked like a luminous pile, glows beat green, thin, like curved needles, lightnings in all directions. This was beautiful.

Jilk involuntarily looked at the Object, his gaze began to distinguish between small details, of impossible, never before seen beauty. He had a desire to reach out to him, touch the light "villi" - livings, mysterious ...

  * Beautiful,- said Sol Dean dryly.- In two days, we will kill him.

  * Do you want a drink?

Sol did not answer immediately.

They looked into each other's eyes, each thinking of his own.

  * Why not have a drink? Now can have a drink. Old Suni would not mind.

And Sol laughed, easy and simple, as if Jock Suni had just gone out for a while.

Jilk looked at Sol, at his distorted, bloodstained face.

  * We need to put ourselves in order, Sol. We look like cripples. Homeless cripples.- For a minute, Jilk looked for the right button on the control panel and even finding it, he did not immediately realize that this was what was needed.

On the purple, flat button, in the second row of the same buttons, the inscription "internal communication" shone.

  * Aaoli. Sol and I decided to throw a party in the wardroom. Come along. It will be fun. - And Sol. - We'll meet in an hour. Let's go.

******* *******

Jilk walked along the corridor half the way to his cabin — light panels under the ceiling, white and glossy, flooded everything around with a measured, yellow light.

He now wanted only one thing - to stand under a hot shower, so that the jets of life-giving water washed his body, calmed him, gave him strength. He wanted to relax and not think about anything, albeit not for long, even temporarily. Wash away the dirt and the stench of lies, wash away the tension of days lived in the illusions.

With a hesitant gait, he reached the intersection with the "twenty" sector, where the glass doors of the operator compartments stretched along the right wall, when he felt someone's gaze on himself.

This look, expectant, attentive, had just arisen in Jilk's understanding, and he already understood who and why was behind him.

Jilk stopped.He could turn back, look, but he remained standing, looking in front of him, into the depths of the corridor that was going forward.

He did not care what could happen at any second.

He smiled.

  * I love you too, Aaoli ...

And he walked on and a sad, silly smile remained on his face.

No one attacked him.

The sound of Jilk's footsteps echoed along the corridor, shuffling, deaf.

******* *******

After the shower, Jilk came to life a little.

Relatively good mood returned to him, aching pain in his back and legs went away, fatigue went away, but the nasty lethargy in the body did not go away, making every movement insecure, as if he had first learned to walk and move.

And also a burning pain in the head - debilitating, annoying, nauseous.

Standing in the toilet, in a small room with a shower in the right corner and a wash table in the left, where he stood for about ten minutes, considering his reflection, Jilk, in a new, clean overalls, barefoot, prepared to go out to his bedroom.

He wanted to stay here.

It began to seem to him that it was here, in this cozy sanitary unit, that he was separate from the whole ship, it was here that, having calmed down and washed, he was in a separate, tiny little world, where there was no entrance to everything that was happening on the cruiser.

Jilk opened the door and stepped into the bedroom.

He was not even surprised to see a guest in the middle of the cabin.

The guest stood with his elbows on Jilk's desk, legs crossed in white shoes, in white overalls with a bright, yellow-red emblem on the left chest, with the inscription- "Flying". The guest's black hair, combed back, was cast in blue, his face was turned to Jilk \- calm, friendly.

Jilk silently splashed barefoot towards the dispenser cabinet, pulled out new, black suede shoes with rubber soles, and, without looking at the guest, sat down in an armchair under the communications screen and began to shoe.

  * Jilk, this is ridiculous. Look at me. I'm not part of your wretched interior.

Jilk continued to shoe in silence.

The guest always appeared to him in dreams.

Is always.

But now Jilk did not sleep. In this he was absolutely sure.

  * Well done, Jilk. I admit it. Hm. It's a pity that we cannot become friends with you. I would be very happy about that.

Jilk shod his right shoe and began to shoe the second. He tried not to notice the guest, tried not to indicate his presence for himself, was afraid that this could make a difference in reality, distort it, disfigure it.

  * Well there is no way. You leave me no choice. Isn't it wise to want to save your life? Which I am forced to do.

Jilk could not resist and looked at the guest.

The guest straightened up, moved slowly in his direction, stopped a step away from Jilk, and looked at him expectantly. While he was walking, Jilk saw the floor disappearing under the feet of the guest, in those places, and where he had just stepped, traces of failures formed, and stars shone in them, like through holes.

  * You do not understand. What are you counting on? None of you will survive. You will perish. Die. You have no idea what you will become before you die.

Jilk did not answer.

  * Turn off the "Barrier"! Stand face to face with me! Coward.

  * Fools are taken "weakly".

Jilk finally put on his shoes, got to his feet and silently left the cabin.

A few minutes later he was already entering the wardroom, where at the extreme table by the wall light was on, and at the table itself was Sol Dean, in clean overalls. In his right hand he held a tall glass of wine. A glass carafe of wine stood on the table in front of him, and a second empty glass was lonely attached next to it.

Jilk walked over, sat in a chair across from Sol.

  * Aaoli hasn't come yet?

  * No. - Sol drank from his glass, looked drunk, filosovsko, his contorted face looked unpleasant. - She will come. I think.

Jilk poured decanter wine into his glass, closed the decanter with a glass lid, took a sip, asked:

  * And what are you thinking?

  * Well, as it were ... In a couple of days, this whole nightmare will end, we will fly back. I don't know how it will be, but it will be. And I definitely don't want to remember all this crazy flight. I definitely don't want to.

  * I'm becoming an idiot, Sol.

  * What a piece of news. I always knew that.

  * You did not understand.- Jilk was silent, Sol patiently waited for the continuation, looking at the contents of the decanter. - I forget simple things.

  * What do you forget?

  * Today I barely remembered letters and numbers. I didn't remember much at all and I think that I will never remember. If we find ourselves without a computer, then there will be no one to lead "Arrow" back.

Sol studied Jilk's face for a long time with an attentive, incredulous look, and when he apparently decided that Jilk was speaking quite seriously, he said:

  * Is everything so bad?

  * Yes.

  * This is bad. Let's hope that our computer does not bend. So I'm hoping for you ... Listen, Jilk, I got an obsession,\- Sol Dean shook in a silent, silent laugh, his hand with a glass shook and rose, transparent wine, poured on his fingers, spilled on the table.- Idea, you understand? It all seems to me stupid, of course, that we will reach the point of discharge, and the rocket with the "Clap" will not fly! Here I have such concerns.

Jilk looked at Sol's face, whose right eye was squinting to the side.

  * And those dreams, Jilk. Every night. It drives me crazy. After all, do you have the same dream?

  * Yes.

  * Is always? I mean...

  * Is always. I just don't remember if they were recently. I don't remember yesterday either.

Sol drank from the glass, Adam's apple jerked sharply, a drop of wine flowed down his chin, he put the glass on the table and shook his head.

  * This rocket. You would check her out, Jilk.

  * Checked.

  * When?

  * I'll check it today.

  * Today we drink, Jilk. Check it out tomorrow. Be sure to check it out!

Jilk set his glass in front of him on the table, pushed it with his fingers, said:

  * I do not drink. I'll check it today.

Sol looked respectfully at his friend.

  * Well you are a man! But I'm all blown away. I can not. No I can not. And Aaoli, in my opinion, too. There are three of us. And only you ... How are you?

  * I am ok.

  * Fine. And I am not in order. I'll tell you, my friend, that I am completely ... I even doubt that you are sitting in front of me, and not that ... Not a hallucination. Maybe it's not you, Jilk? Maybe this piece of stone is playing with me, but the bones of a real Jilk are rotting now, somewhere in the "Barrier" hangar?

Jilk grinned.

  * Obsession, Sol?

  * The idea, the idea. Now I have a lot of good ideas.

  * I should have left you on Ore. You would graduate, become smarter.

They looked into each other's eyes and simultaneously laughed at this joke of Jilk. Sol was shaking with laughter, drops of sweat appeared on his nose.

  * It's definitely you. The Object could not say such tactlessness. He's generally one-sided shit.

  * He plays with us, Sol. All these dreams are not from curiosity or desire to speak out. It's a game. He is a player.

  * Do you think so?

  * I'm sure. Now i'm sure.

  * Are you sure that Dawn is alive?

Jilk did not expect this question, hesitated and, after a few seconds, said:

  * He is a liar. He confuses us. Dawn is alive, I know.

  * You know ... Well, well, you know. So you're the only thick-skinned of us all. No doubt, no ... ideas!

  * Thick-skinned ... I have one idea.

  * What is the idea?

  * So you stop sleeping later?- Jilk laughed.- Well, guesses. I will not talk about it.

  * Do not grimace. Started talking, say so! And then they took fashion. Saucy Su, too, will begin to speak, and then the words cannot be pulled out of him.

  * Saucy Su, who is this?

Sol paused, looked into Jilk's eyes for a long time, then hesitantly spoke up:

  * It's a friend. As if. From dreams. Hallucination. In general, nonsense! ... I'm all thinking, Jill. So let's finish with the Object, turn off the "Barrier", maybe this will all go away?- Sol ran a hand over his face.

  * Will pass.

  * I had a bride on Ore, but her parents, you know, didn't really love me. Now they will accept me as a native- hero! But a healthy hero is better than a crooked hero.- Sol spoke and the sounds of his words were ugly, as if his tongue did not fit in his mouth.

Jilk was silent for a while, watching Sol drink from his glass, wipe his mouth with a sleeve of a jumpsuit and something displeased, winces, peering into the transparent wine. And then he told Sol about Child. Sol looked at Jilk for a long time, squinting his right eye somewhere to the side, then he said:

  * Do you believe in that ?

  * It is just a stone.

  * I didn't ask you that. I asked do you believe that the "Barrier" is alive?

  * Not.

  * Somehow you didn't say it very confidently. Okay.

  * It was better to listen to Loria. She could tell a lot of interesting things about him.

  * She wouldn't tell us anything. Yes, and why?- Sol took a sip from his glass - a thin stream of wine flowed out of his twisted mouth and rushed along his chin to his bare, sweaty neck.

  * Do you still have Guen's tablets?

Putting the glass on the table, Sol spoke, as if he had not heard Jilk's question:

  * What difference now is he alive or not? Do you really think that the Object will let us go if we turn off the "Barrier"? He will kill us right away! Heh! We will die without the "Barrier", painfully die. We'll die dirty. He, you see, found one like himself! The meeting of two relatives. I don't give a damn what he found there, this piece of shit!- Sol shouted the last words into Jilk's face, as if he were arguing with him.\- Do you hear? Spit! Lone traveler, tormented soul. How are we? We? And Au, Guen, the rest? What's this? Inevitable losses? Here it is to him!\- And Sol stretched out his hand, folded his fingers in a fig, twisted them in front of Jilk's nose.\- Here! And you know for sure that at that moment when you believe that the "Barrier" is the Child, we will all die! And all those who will be born in six hundred years in our worlds. They are doomed too. Because he will return back to the Big Star and make of all idiots!\- Sol froze for a moment, his twisted face froze and, then leaning forward, leaning his chest on the table, he spoke quietly and hoarsely.- I urinate blood, I turned into a ruin, I barely walk! Look at me, at yourself, Jilk. Let's do this and kill the bastard! And then we will go home! A? I do not want to die here, and become an idiot! Home! Oh Jilk? Home!- And he shook with an almost hysterical laugh, shook his head, as if laughing at a funny joke.

Jilk silently watched him.

  * You know what I think. I think that your dead alien in the Ice Belt, all these inconsistencies with the number of planets in the past and present ... It is he!- Sol's parchment face froze, the lower right corner of his mouth slid down.- We do not know our history, we do not know the past of our worlds. We do not know what happened millions of years ago, all these disputes and squabbles of scientists ... This is the Object. Or those like him. There, in the past, they visited our Big Star, and only this can explain everything. They clear our memory, they make us idiots!- Sol laughed hysterically, leaned back, and beat his left hand on the table.

Jilk silently waited for him to calm down.

Calming down, Sol took the decanter and began to fill his glass with wine, he looked very focused. His hands were shaking violently.

  * You are the captain, you have access to the "Barrier". Means the Object, will ruffle your nerves, with all your might. And what? Who wants to die? Even if he is an ordinary mountain of carbon. And who reproaches me? Some kind of stone maniac. You see, the responsibility is now on us. Excuses to us, you see, no. Yes, he went to such and such a mother, a cunning cobblestone! I met scammers, smarter than him. Bastard!

He drank for a long time, swallowing wine in small, stingy sips, dousing himself with wine and panting. The muffled light of the dashboard hanging above their table made Saul's face pale, deathly.

Then, when Sol's glass was again on the table, and he himself took a serious look, Jilk asked:

  * You do not hear?

  * What?

  * Music. I do not know. The music is playing somewhere, very quiet. I have heard her for a long time, I can't understand where she sounds from. I am listening. It's hard to make out the melody.

  * Heh, music. There is a noise in my head, a squeak like a mosquito. I don't hear anything; everything is quiet. Or maybe not. We were sitting in a nonexistent library, This Rain ... And you are- music! Although ... Ask Aaoli, her hearing is sharp.

They chatted for half an hour before Jilk went to the bomb hangar to check the rocket was working.

Sol's obsession was passed on to him.

******* *******

Hot stellar wind, elastically pulled soft, steel sails.

The wind blew in the back, and he stood behind the massive, polished helm, smiling, looking forward, to where at the end of the deck open to the stars, at the very bow of the ship, emptiness began. Steel cables holding the sails rang from tension, and the light of the stars reflected on their braided braids.

The space frigate swam in the void and he patiently and confidently led it along the course. In front of the helm, on a massive cast-iron pedestal, a compass blazed with atomic fire. His sharp arrow, drowning in a hot fire, constantly showed "forward". He knew the path and movement of the ship, but at times he looked into the dusty glass of compass enveloped in fire and, finding in it the correctness of his actions, smiled to himself.

Under his feet was a robust armored deck, and the convex rivets on it sparkled like numerous spider eyes. There, ahead of the bow of the ship, there was a flare-up of an approaching storm - in a dull bluish cloud, numerous green lightnings lit up and went out.

It was still quiet and calm.

He led his ship for a long time, so long that the stars surrounding it seemed peers to him, his memory refused to return to him the past tense, only the present, infinite, frozen like a jelly, fettered everything around, eliminating the future. Saturated with the sound and rustle of radio waves, the ether rang, faintly smelled of the heat of a distant star, inspiring peace and confidence. In this endless voyage there was only peace and purpose.

He walked toward the goal.

To the Sea of Oblivion.

The guest stood nearby, leaning on a heavy, iron box, in a light sailor's windbreaker and wide, frayed trousers, barefoot, he smoked his large, diamond pipe, and exhaled thick, pink glowing smoke that immediately blew away with a stellar wind to the bow of the ship , dragged over steel decks and further into the void, where the pink light dissolved and melted.

The guest came a long time ago. But later than the birth of the stars, he knew this - for sure.

Guest - Stroller.

Guest- Flying.

Guest is an old friend.

A reliable ship, like an iron rock, rushes into the distance, dissecting high, sharp gravitational waves. Now he climbs up the wave and he feels the mass appearing in the body, tightens his grip on the handles of a large, round helm, peering at where the colorful lights of stars glide down.

  * What do you hear?- The Guest asked him.

  * I hear the heart. The beat of my heart. That means I'm alive.

Glowing pink smoke from the Guest's pipe, with intricate patterns hovering in front of my eyes, and small pink sparks flash and disappear in the darkness.

  * How long have we been here?

  * Long time ago. \- The guest vaguely led his pipe. - But it doesn't matter.

  * Yes. It doesn't matter anymore. It's important that it will all be over soon.

  * You need to turn to the side. The Sea of Oblivion is not what you need.

  * What do I need?

  * You need hope. And you have no hope.

  * I've been here a long time. This helm, this frigate. I'm used to going forward. My goal is there.

  * You don't understand.- The guest speaks calmly, his friend's participation sounds in his voice.- You don't understand. Your goal is hope, but there is no hope in death. There is nothing, there is the Sea of Oblivion. Turn to the side.

  * In that storm, there is my hope. I know. How can I find hope if I don't get to the storm? Will you help me. You are my friend.

  * Death awaits you there.

The guest was silent. His face is impenetrable.

He is also silent; he listens to how the star wind rustles in steel sails, looks at the gleaming glimpses on the metal of the deck, this is the Big Star that has remained far behind the ship, catches up with his pale light, and recalls the lost harbor.

  * Death is not the worst. - The guest spoke again. - You will be left alone, left without hope. This is the worst. I have seen many worlds, I have been to many harbors. I am alone.

  * I've been alone all my life. I no longer need the harbor. I want to go forward. I do not want to turn off.

  * This is stubbornness. What do you want to prove this? To whom? The storm will kill you. He will kill your hope. It can still get better. For you.

  * In that storm, my hope.

  * You don't know what's in that storm, Jilk.

Jilk.

He heard this word and then, after a few moments, realized that it was his name. The word that once denoted it, a word from the distant past, where there were its days and events.

He did not remember them.

He did not remember his name.

  * My name is Jilk.

  * This is your name.

  * Strange name. I am Captain. I am going forward.

  * Does your ship have a name?

He hesitated a little, said:

  * He is the Ship. My Ship. I am his Captain. I have a goal. Everyone should have a goal. Without a goal, I am nothing.

Ascent along the wave ceased, giving way to a fall down, the stars darted upward — bright, implausible, the blurry nebula to the right, disappeared from the field of view with a thick, blue spot, and left. He lost weight, his body seemed to cease to exist, and his hands holding the helm tightened his grip on the polished handles.

It has always been like this.

The rise and fall.

He inhaled the ether surrounding him, and with it inhaled the smell of expectation and peace. The steel sails of the frigate rang loudly under the swirling stellar wind, caved in, steel ropes strained on the bow of the ship, and the bright light of the atomic lantern rushed out from the forward direction, swinging on a low superstructure of the deck. On the guard rails along the sides, small drops of helium sparkled with mercury, and in front of the course, long, curved lightning bolts were seen more clearly.

His iron sailboat, an armored frigate, cuts a thin space in front of him, with a sharp, black nose.

The border of the storm was approaching him, and behind it, behind the evil dawn trembling from the flashes, the haze extended somewhere into the unknown, the Sea of Oblivion.

The ship fell on a wave, carried off into the black abyss.

Forward.

Forward.

There, where space is blazing and trembling.

As if someone was waiting for him there, as if he had no other way.

The guest turned his dark face to him, said:

  * There is still the opportunity to change fate. Do you believe me?

  * You are a friend. A friend cannot lie.

  * You have to believe me. And then you will find your harbor. I will give you new hope. Without a past. I am the Star of Hope.

  * Not. That is not my hope.

******* *******

Sol did not sleep.

Sol was afraid and did not want to sleep.

He sat alone, at a long, empty table, in the mess room, steeped in twilight, and stared pointlessly at the wine in the decanter. He was sick. And there was a aching, dull pain, she pulled something under his left ribs, did not pass for a long time, plagued, did not allow rest from herself.

Sol was not thinking about anything, he just sat and looked.

He looked at the carafe.

In it, like a nasty brew, mixed, intrusive feelings poured - fear, expectation and longing.

Sometimes he began to swing from side to side in his chair, like a toy animal to the right, left, minute, five, ten ... From these movements, it seemed to him to feel better, as if he distracted his body from pain, and himself from feelings. He was also tormented by convulsions of his face, they brought Sol's lips and cheeks together, and rubbing them with his palms, he tried to restore his sensitivity to his face. Sometimes it was possible to do it - convulsions receded for a short time, so that soon they would return, shackle, disfigure.

When he was about to touch the glass of wine again, he was frightened by the sudden and harsh voice of the on-board computer:

  * Attention to the whole crew! Unauthorized ...

Seconds later, Sol ran out of the wardroom into the corridor. Although this run could not be called a run - his right leg hardly listened and dragged after him like an insensitive stump, he was constantly drifted to the right and, cursing and breaking into a cry, he constantly tried to equalize his direction.

At the very elevator site, Sol nevertheless could not stand on his feet, tried to lean against the wall, but fell, painfully hitting the floor with his palms and left knee.

Sol's stomach twisted and his vomited.

Then, taking off in the elevator to the tier where the "Barrier" was located, he cried silently, not making a sound, from self-pity and fear.

  * ... Ignition in the filter block of the "Barrier"! ...

He wanted all this, all that was happening to him, ugly and terrible in its inevitability, to end.

But it seems that the inevitable has just begun, it has barely become apparent, outlining future prospects.

The elevator froze, the movement stopped.

The doors opened.

Lame and leaning against the wall with her left hand, Sol headed for the section behind which was the "Barrier" filter.

Here, in a wide white corridor, with strict signs, it was light and quiet.

The shuffling of Sol's feet ran far ahead. After a couple of minutes, he went to a large and spacious room, flooded with light and filled with a pungent smell of burning.

The cause of the fire was right in front of him, next to the massive entrance hatch to the "Barrier".

Sol froze, and with his right hand reached into the holster with the gun, his fingers still couldn't unfasten the capricious fastener on it.

Aaoli stood in front of the entrance hatch a couple of dozen meters from Sol, and the laser cutter in her hands, with a bright, crimson beam, with a loud hiss, drowned in the charred lining of the hatch, knocked out sheaves of sparks and thick, gray-black smoke.

Sol finally pulled out a pistol - cold and heavy, with a thumb numbing, his right hand removed the fuse. Another second and Sol's pistol aimed his barrel at Aaoli. He wanted to hail the florianess, but she already sensed his presence, looked around.

He saw her eyes, a hunted, wild look, it seemed to him that he could even make out the lumps of frozen blood at her nostrils, adhered to the short, gray hair.

Dressed in a blue jumpsuit, the florianess seemed to Sol strangely sloppy.

Her narrow lips stretched out in a grin, showed white, sharp fangs. Aaoli led the cutter in his direction - the laser beam quickly drew an ugly, black strip on the surface of the hatch, darted along the wall, scattering fire, sparks in all directions ...

And then Sol started shooting ...

******* *******

He painfully and for a long time could not wake up. Having already got rid of an obsessive dream, but still not finding the strength to grasp the reality, he grabbed on his revived feelings and opened his eyes. An incomprehensible, tangled noise rattled in his ears, causing a sharp, piercing pain.

Jilk woke up.

With difficulty, he opened his eyes and saw a dull, even ceiling above him, dimly lit by the soft green light of the night lamp.

A loud, rumbling noise turned into words.

  * Attention to the whole crew! Unauthorized, controlled fire in the "Barrier" filter unit. I repeat ...

Jilk tried to grasp the meaning and meaning of what he heard. A monotonous voice repeated the same thing, again, again. A heavy, prickly pain was pouring in his head, and he really wanted to close his eyes again, to fall asleep, to forget.

  * ... Ignition in the filter block of the "Barrier".

"Ignition".

"Barrier".

Suddenly, like a jolt, an understanding of what was happening appeared. He turned with a groan on his right side, sat on the bed, trembled as if from a cold, groaned, coughed loudly, angrily and painfully.

  * Attention!...

He got to his feet - everything around Jilk was floating. Staggering, he was barefoot and in his underpants, headed for the cabin door.

A bright light in the empty corridor hit him in the eyes - Jilk closed his eyes, covered his face with his hand, and then, walking out into the middle of the corridor, he stopped.

He did not know where to go, forgot.

Jilk remembered what the "Barrier" was, remembered that he needed to get to the elevator shafts, he even knew the number of the tier he needed, but he didn't know which direction he had to go to these very shafts.

He forgot.

Absolutely.

Standing on the cool, rough floor of the corridor, Jilk looked bewildered from side to side.

The voice of the computer continued to speak its message, the echo of words carried away into the depths of the corridor.

It was wild and scary.

Looking around, Jilk did not recognize the surroundings, these walls, doors opposite, a close intersection, where a white, square sign loomed dimly.

He went to the sign, trying to read in advance what was written on it, peered, before his eyes everything trembled and swam.

The signboard, with bold, blue arrows, read: "Electronic tier", "Dispatching room", "Shuttle A", "Barrier".

"Barrier"!

Looking at the signpost, Jilk suddenly gained the ability to understand where he is, he recognized this place, understood the direction to the elevator shafts.

And he ran down the corridor to the intersection, then to the right, past the glass walls of the dark control room, further to the elevator. The pain seemed ready to tear his head to pieces, a nasty, coppery taste of blood appeared in his mouth.

Here is the elevator platform.

Bright light floods the wide space around, the steel handrails of the side stairs sparkle, unbearably, to nausea. The elevator doors finally opened and Jilk burst into the cab, leaned against a smooth, brown wall, pressed the desired key on the dashboard. The doors closed smoothly, and upward movement began.

Jilk was shaking.

He bowed his head and, looking at his bare feet, saw his blood dripping on them. Red blots dance cheerfully on his bare fingers, run to the glossy floor. With his right hand, Jilk wiped the blood under his nose, smearing it on the cheek.

He was waiting.

Suddenly, the voice of the on-board computer announced a new message:

  * Ignition eliminated.

The elevator doors opened silently.

For five long minutes, Jilk dragged along the bright, empty corridors of the tier, before he was at the entrance to the "Barrier" filter.

A stone's throw from the blackened soot of the "Barrier" hatch, he immediately saw Aaoli lying on the floor, in a pool of blood. She lay on her back, bending her legs beneath herself and, looking at the high, white ceiling, and her blue overalls on her chest, became dark - glistened with burgundy moisture.

A few more seconds, and Jilk, crouching next to her, put her head in his hands, bent over the face of the florian.

  * Aaoli.

  * She was alive.He wanted me to kill you,- red foam boiled around her narrow mouth.- He promised ... He promised to return me happiness ...- Aaoli touched his right wrist with her hand, her claws glared at Jilk's skin, her eyes wide open glistened with moisture and the pupils of the florianess seemed almost round.\- I could not do it! I could not!

  * I know. You couldn't,\- a bitter lump in his throat caught his breath, caught his tongue.

  * I could't , kitten. Kitten ... I wanted it to end ...

Her claws pressed into his hand more strongly, the body of the florian woman tensed, stretched out, and, trembling, relaxed.

Her open eyes were already looking somewhere past Jilk's face.

He froze.

  * She wanted to go to the "Barrier".

Jilk did not look at the speaker at once. Sol was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, and a pistol was lying next to him.

  * Laser cutter ... She couldn't get there .- Jilk laid his palm on Aaoli's face and closed her eyes.

  * She would kill me.

They were silent.

Jilk felt under his palm, Aaoli's tears were cooling, he was not moving.

  * The last day remained. - Sol coughed heavily. - Tomorrow.

Jilk raised his head - there, in the corridor, at the very entrance to the landing, stood the Guest, in a strict, black suit and the same black shoes. A heavy, golden ring glittered on his right hand with a large diamond, a diamond tube in Guest's hand filled the entire space of the corridor with pink, flickering smoke. Next to him stood a boy of about six, wearing a motley children's pajamas, barefoot, with a disproportionately large, bald head. He held the Guest by his left hand and with reproach looked Jilk's in the eye.

  * We'll die here, Jilk.- Sol said indifferently in a hoarse voice.

  * I'm going to kill him.

  * We will die sooner.

  * I'll kill him and the dead.

Jilk watched as the Guest and the boy turned away from him, and slowly, slowly, walked through the pink smoke.

Away.

******* *******

He stood endlessly under the hot jets of water, closing his eyes and relaxing, trying not to think about anything, to drive away the last remnants of sleep and to finally recover after night.

Today, Jilk dreamed of his parents, father and mother, in their spacious, bright house by the river, where large, fragrant flowers bloomed next to the open veranda. Then Jilk Jr. came from the second floor, carrying a model of an old sailing ship in his small hands. Jilk woke up at the moment when he and his son were walking towards the river, launching the ship into the water.

Now, basking in a stream of hot, barely tolerable water, he noted with horror that for a long time he could not remember the name of his son.

"- Jilk Jr."

"\- And- Dana. Her name is Dana. "

A headache fought in his crown and temples with hot, heavy blows. Only when he was sleeping did Jilk feel nothing — there was no pain in his dreams.

Having finished taking a shower, he swayed out into the bedroom and, leaving behind wet traces, splashed barefoot on the cool floor to the distribution cabinet, and opened a convex, beige door. The machine has already laid out on a shelf a new, clean set of linen — a T-shirt, underpants, socks, a white jumpsuit, and on the lower shelf stood a pair of black, soft shoes.

On the cabinet door was a large, rectangular mirror, and in it he saw his haggard, pale, bristled face. His eyes were red. Not with the manifested capillaries, as it happens from strong physical exertion, but completely painted in the color of blood, without a single white glimpse.

Jilk began to dress, calmly, not hurrying, as if performing some complicated and solemn ritual, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, at his swollen, bluish-colored knees, at the swollen veins on his arms and legs.

"- There is still time."

Deciding that he shouldn't have breakfast, Jilk dressed and clean, went to the vending machine and pressing a button on the control panel where the drinks were indicated, ordered himself a glass of hot, sweet tea.

He was sick. He comfortably sat in a deep chair at his desk, drank tea in small sips, and looked at the photographs on the wall in front of him. In the bright light of the lights, the faces imprinted on them seemed alive.

After a few minutes, he got to his feet - as hard as an old man, he approached the screen of the videophone, pressed the call button of the addressee above which hung a piece of paper glued to him with the word "Sol." The flat screen of the intercom came to life, showed Sol's cabin, Sol himself stood with his back to the screen and pulled on himself a green jumpsuit.

  * Sol, I'm ready. I'm going to the pilot cabin. You can come with me or sit in the command compartment.

  * I will come.

The videophone has disconnected. Jilk went to the exit door. He froze when he saw his weapon thrown on a chair that stood in a corner, near the very exit from the cabin.

Going up and picking up a belt, he shook his fingers for a long time, delved into his fastener, then fastened a holster with a pistol to a shiny chrome carbine.

Jilk looked around.

That's it.

The cabin seemed to him a cozy, native home, his habitable dwelling, from which he did not want to leave. Returning to the desk, he took both photos from the wall, put in the pocket of his overalls's, their magnetic latches, and only after that, holding the photos in his left hand, he went out into the corridor.

More than four hours remained before the programmed moment of the missile drop and the cruiser's maneuver.

Jilk was in no hurry.

Trying to walk slowly, so as not to fall, he headed for the pilot cabin.

******* *******

  * Turn on the systems of the offensive complex.- Jilk spoke measuredly, mentally weighed and checked every word in himself before pronouncing a command to the on-board computer.

He meticulously examined the rows of multi-colored keys on the control panel in front of him, checked the readings he saw on the control screen with the icons flashing on the screen of the commands, he was afraid to make a mistake, to mess up.

Under each key on the remote control there were square, old-fashioned buttons of the backup systems, and next to them are now dead, neon eyes of indicators.

  * Cruiser combat alert! Get ready for a dodge maneuver.

  * The rocket with the bomb is ready for launch,- said the voice of the computer.- I'm waiting for the command.

  * Enable TCDD.

  * Included.

  * ORC, stabilizers.

  * Stabilizers included.

  * Course 942.

  * There is.

  * Activate the mass sensors of the warhead of the rocket.

  * There is.

  * Activate accelerator reactors.

  * Activated.

  * Manual control.

  * Manual control...

Sol Dean sat to Jilk's left, in one of the three pilot cabin chairs. He had already fastened himself to chair with seatbelts and now silently watched Jilk's actions, squinting at him with his right, bulging eye.

A short, piercing signal sometimes sounded in the wheelhouse, yellow, light panels under the low, forward-leaning ceiling, burned brightly, it smelled of plastic.

  * Power Cruisers \- full mode.

Having given all the necessary orders to the computer, Jilk reached forward and, opening a niche to the left of the helm, pulled out "acceleration" gloves. They were made of durable and flexible plastic - dark blue, with wide straps of fasteners on the wrists. On the inside, the gloves had convex grooves of latches that were to be attached to the same latches on the traction joysticks.

Jilk put on gloves, fastened their fasteners, checked the flexibility of the gloves - squeezed and unclenched his fingers, twisted his hands.

He calmed down and examined the cabin again.

There were no portholes here.

In front of the armchairs, there were viewing screens attached to the front wall, and on them a bright blue-green fire, a lightning-covered pile, a bellied Object ball enlarged by the "Arrow" optics, was close. Bright lights flashed on the control panels, lights on the handles of the helm, indicators, the gyrocompass arrows glowed in glass spheres.

Jilk was waiting for the computer to inform him of his readiness for maneuver and missile launch.

Minutes passed.

  * Can you really do this?- Sol asked him.

  * I can. I forgot something, I have to check the launch schedule of the systems, but I will never forget how to pilot - he smiled at Sol, who was two steps away from him, trying to look wide awake.

In Jilk's head, something pierced painfully, as if a thin needle touched his brain and disappeared. He threw back his head on the headrest of the chair and closed his eyes, experiencing a fit of dizziness.

  * Are you all right?\- Sol's voice seemed worried.

  * I'm tired. Everything is fine.

After some time, Jilk opened his eyes again and looked at the screen in front of him. After some time, Jilk opened his eyes again and looked at the screen in front of him. The object on the screen burned with a steady light, and the lightnings emanating from it, short and bright white, blurred its borders, created a faded haze around it. A ghostly blue-green light shone through them.

  * I will see how you will be smashed to pieces, you son of a bitch,- said Sol Dean with undisguised evil joy.- You squeezed life out of me, you killed ...

And then Jilk was struck by a suffocating, hot wave, he suffocated, his eyes widened in front of him, clenched his fists, his body was pierced by pain.

And it was all over. The image of the Object on the screens went blank, and they themselves turned off, turned black.

At the same time, all the lights on the control panels went out, and instead of them, the "eyes" of the neon indicator lamps of the backup systems came to life.

The howler of alarm sounded sharply and angrily, and the cruiser's voice announced the space of the pilot cabin:

  * Transition to the backup control and life support systems of the ship. Impulse attack. The computer is malfunctioning. All teams are duplicated.

The wall in front of Jilk, along with the viewing screens, began to turn quickly, the flat, large screens on it crawled down, revealing the old, convex screens attached to the back of the wall. Another second, another, and in front of him was already a black, dusty box of a backup, vacuum screen. The image of the Object on it was unusually extended and convex. Lamp indicators flashed on the control panel, in their glass windows, glowing red spirals, depicted numbers and icons.

  * Two minutes to the rocket drop!- The voice of the ship announced.- Five minutes, forty seconds, before the maneuver.

The image of the Object suddenly blurred, the light aura around it was filled with light, it became brighter, stronger, the lightnings lengthened and it ... went out.

Absolutely.

Sweat - cold, like drops of salt fat, flooded Jilk's eyes, piled up over his upper lip, flowing down his neck for a collar.

  * He is dead! Dead bastard!

Jilk said nothing.

He looked at a dark spot on the screen - round, like a black ball on a dark gray background, looked and could not understand what had happened. His thoughts, paralyzed by a recent blow, rekindled reluctantly, a blurred consciousness not yet reached reality.

  * Dead! He is dead! Died! - The cry of the man next to him, gradually returned him to reality.

Jilk turned his head to the left, looked.

The man in the chair was looking in his direction now, his face is distorted, his mouth is twisted.

  * He's gone, Jilk! We are free!

"\- My name is Jilk."

He peered into the face of this man and could not remember his name.

"\- My name is Jilk."

  * I'm Jilk.

  * What?- The stranger hesitated, looked at him bewildered, his twisted lips parted, his lower jaw dropped.- What's wrong with you?

He turned away from the stranger, looked at the screen.

Memory, like a bizarre mosaic, gathered in a pattern incomprehensible to him.

There was death on the screen.

Death is dead.

The monotonous voice of the ship spoke in the wheelhouse:

  * Open the bomb gate. Twenty seconds before the rocket is dropped. Eighteen, seventeen, sixteen ...

Accelerator!

He remembered what to do. It was like a faded little light in the dark - you don't see anything around you, but you already know where to go, you know the direction.

His hands rested on the joystick handles, clicked on the clamps of the glove clips.

  * Before the start of the evasion maneuver ...

Memory lazily revealed to him reality, sparingly, partially.

Somewhere very far away, on the verge of perception, quiet music was playing now, so quiet that it was not possible to distinguish its melody, only the rare, loudest chords reached his mind.

  * Nine, eight, seven, six ...

  * Kill him, Jilk, kill him!

  * I remembered, - he speaks softly. - Not a single ship reached the target ...

  * Rocket reset!

With the index finger of his right hand, he pressed the yellow, round button at the very clamp of the glove, and with both hands he pulled the handles of the thrust towards himself, carefully, slowly, as he was used to for many years of piloting.

The sounds of alarm fell silent, giving way to a quiet, low hum that filled the entire space of the cabin, and at the same time his body began to fill with mass, becoming heavier.

The cruiser quickly increased speed — a huge spaceship, accelerated for a decisive throw, and somewhere behind it aft — the blinding, atomic flame of the accelerators roared, extended, every second it became longer, angrier, brighter, like the tail of an iron comet.

Voice of the ship:

  * Rocket in the hangar.

He looks at the black circle on the faded screen, he hears the voice of the man on the left.

  * Dump her! ...

The rumble grows like the crash of an approaching avalanche.

  * Twenty four, twenty three ...

He listens to his feelings, tries to unravel their meaning, heaviness squeezes his chest, but he says:

  * I do not believe. Nobody could approach him ...

He sees a goal in front of him.

The goal in front of him is black, insensitive, dumb.

  * Seven, six, five ...

  * Everything!

  * The rocket in the hangar! - The voice in the space of the pilot cabin is dry and low, he said and fell silent.

But he hesitates.

He did not decide.

Pulls the handles on himself, pours the ship with weight.

  * Jilk,- the one to his left wheezes.- Drop her!

And suddenly the screen lit up - a black circle flashed on it with a fireball, huddled in frantic lightnings, long, stretched forward, like monstrous, ugly hands, swelled with bubbles of light flashes.

And there was a pain, burning, to despair, to wheezing, to nausea. She hit him with a mixture of wild despair and horror, broke his head into hundreds of parts, drenched her throat with blood.

He coughed - red sticky splashes flew out of his mouth, covered the control panel in front of him and, struggling with the coming unconsciousness, he said hoarsely:

  * Liar ... Pretendng...

  * Kill him! Drop the rocket!

Turning his head, he saw a man sitting in an armchair on the left, clumsily sticking his right hand over the handrail of his chair, then taking it out, and in this hand, a black, heavy gun flashed with metal.

  * Drop that damn rocket!

  * He is a liar, - a smile appears on his bloody lips. - So they are all alive! They are alive! He is a pretender ...

  * Launch a rocket!

The gun falls out of a man's hand, with a heavy knock drowning in the growing roar of the accelerator falls to the floor. A man tries to unfasten his seat belts, and when he succeeds, he reaches down to the gun, growls hoarsely, inaudibly.

  * You don't understand,- he turns away from him, grimaces in pain, but a triumphant smile is visible in his grimace.- He is a liar! I won't let him go ...

Flickering pink light through the walls and floor, a ghost fog seeps into the pilot cabin, covers the control desk racks, hangs in the air and bright, brighter than indicator lamps flash in it, piercing blue stars float and emit subtle rays. Pink fog creeps in, carries pain and oblivion, screams from more horror.

He looks at the screen in front of him and pulls the accelerator traction control handles harder.

He does not see the man sitting to his left, trying to reach the pistol that fell to the floor, how he falls out of his chair and falls head down, screaming and spreading blood on the floor, rolls to the exit from the compartment.

Something breaks in his chest, sharply, stuffy, he feels how saliva mixed with blood flows down his chin, covering his neck with warmth. The pain pierces the whole body with red-hot needles, and his hands, lying on the knurled handles, become numb, weaken.

He is losing consciousness.

******* *******

Not yet recovering, he heard loud, distinct music and a voice, deep and high.

Music sounded in him, she awakened his feelings and the words of the song, almost forgotten, brought him back from oblivion.

He opened his eyes.

The pain is gone.

Only the heaviness in the chest remained a reminder of what was happening. The cruiser rushed forward, toward the goal, where he had gone for so long. The convex screen in front of him was flooded with a blue-green radiance and what was on it had already become inevitable, unavoidable. The glow shouted, drowned in ruby horror, and the pink mist that filled the entire space of the pilot cabin pulsed and trembled.

Looking in front of him, he listened to the song, saw the images that were born to her, as if he were far from here, in the forgotten past. And the Recreation Hall of the "Wind" spacecraft, filled with people and florians, was illuminated by the rays of colorful spotlights. A figure in a white suit sparkled on stage, and Shine Evening sang, holding his concert guitar in his hands:

And in the darkness of the night

and in heart trouble,

only you are hope for me ...

Jilk Ri walked forward, easily and freely, past dancing and singing people and florians, he walked, recognizing faces, and did not want to leave from here. Captain Raul Sholl patted him on the shoulder and Sol Dean, standing next to Aaoli and the furry brrak Brik, waved his hand. And there, near the stage, can already see the faces of Lina Sue, Yas Lo, and Dana with Jilk, Jr.

Let them tell me

it's just luck

and you are alone now.

I know you will show me salvation

sincere light from above ...

Jilk went to them so as never to return, and a moment before the explosion, he sang the last words of the song, along with everyone:

  * You, my lucky star.

The end.

Vyacheslav Bagrov.

November 2018 year.

Email: vyacheslav.bagrov@gmail.com

strannik.vyacheslav.bagrov@gmail.com

