Текст книги "Don't kill"

Автор книги: Boris Gorowoi

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Along the Danube passed a heavy morning sigh. Dux passed two kilometers, but the road was neither time nor space. His whole life went in on a needle tip. The needle was piercing the fabric of the universe, broke someone's fate and left small bundles of memory and drew a line of destiny.

That line didn’t have either beginning or end. And this line was divine.

"Thank you friend," – mad, said Colonel. "You showed me not only the place. Thank you, my friend! "

*

It was quickly dawning from the northeast.

"The day will be hot" – thought Colonel. – "It’s a blessed place". Rare toy houses were buried in a variety of lush plants. With the first morning light stirred up birds, hurrying loudly to report to the luminary about their existence.

In such a delightful place, a prison, a cement plant and all the more Maher’s residence seemed not to be. By hardly perceptible signs Dux realized that he was in the right place, which was discerned by the general layout, powerful hollow automatic gates, a high thorough fence stretching into the distance, cameras set at every fifteen meters, and a figure in black, known from Hong Kong.

Not far from the residence there was a deep from the rut of a track-type tractor. Having passed a couple of hundred meters, Colonel found the Russian DT-75. It was an old deterrent bulldozer which one could not see in toy Europe. Dux hardly started that machine. He felt like a significant and important farmer at the plowing up of virgin lands. Approaching as close as possible to the residence, he aimed the tractor straight at the gate in all the bulldozer horsepower and hid in the green thicket.

Shooting at crawler bulldozer sections remembered a little bit Zava city capture. The guards were shooting at the iron mountain from weapons of different calibers. But the caterpillar did not give up and, at the end, punched out a hole in the fence. Probably, the tractor would have continued its victorious march, smashing walls, but mahers surrounded him and with the hate began to pull the brass tubes and multicolored wires out. Bulldozer heavily breathed and calmed down.

In the bustle mahers did not immediately noticed a parliamentarian with raised hands and holding a white flag. Forty guns simultaneously aimed at Dux.

*

– The same person – laughed Colonel, recognizing the same boss who once arrested him in Hong Kong. – Everything repeats and in this whirl one can’t escape himself.

The officer grinned.

– We have also learned how to correct mistakes, throwing out old drafts.

– Do you have anything new? Sulfuric acid, hot handcuffs, maksubi?

– No, the worse! It will be something new and fun, – clenching his teeth, said the chief.

Forty guards brought Dux into a large building down-to-earth approach. They passed to the newly arrived terrible guard, a little bit similar to the three-headed Cerberus from Dante's first hell circle.

Pointed quadrangular lamps which he has already seen somewhere, and moderated cemetery music tuned to a cheerless festive mood. He couldn’t see the word "exit" anywhere. A white wide opened wall from where no one has ever returned. Colonel looked curiously around the large room. Bright high walls of new composites with a lot of built into lamps, were flooding the hall with unbearable light.

Hundreds of novices were sadly expecting for their fate. Some of them showed signs of beating, that’s why they looked intimidated. Somehow, probably trough the walls, were coming the employees of the organization, looking quite imposingly, a mixture of the white overall, a uniform and bulk airy capes. Importantly, proudly and intently they were bustling about and disappearing in white walls.

Dux, with invisible small steps came closer to the stout sanguine merry fellow.

– Who is that?

There were standing in the distance a few hundred people. They crowded, their look was so terrible that Colonel’s hair stood on end. Sometimes they shouted something unintelligible, like deaf-and-dumbs’ sounds.

– These are from the other world.

– What do you mean?

– In a literal sense. They are just from the refrigeration chambers.

– A good company.

The sanguine seemed to smile.

– Hey, guy, do not turn and do not talk. Or I will whip you.

Really, one could see on some people clear ruby impact marks. Soon he finally assured in it. At the head of that disorderly crowd someone began to speak loudly. Several seconds later came nurses and several strange personalities. Supposedly, they were waiting for the order, attacked a displeased one and beat cruelly him, using fists, a truncheon, whips and an electric shock.

– And who are they? – Dux said softly, without turning around.

– They are worse than people. These are the volunteers. Most of all, be afraid of them!

Volunteers headed by the orderly carried the beaten off into some chink, hiding him behind smooth white walls.

The time stopped. Colonel saw coming out newly arrived of different doors and disappeared. People seemed to be packed goods from the supermarket. Some of them seemed to be forgotten about they were lying on the marble floor.

Dux estimated recruits practicability. They turned out to be not more than three hundred per hour.

"Not many," – thought Dux. "In comparison with every second birth of three children in modern humanity. Even at ten such Maher’s sendings, he is doomed. He can certainly become the next World’s shaker. He can even affect for short time, at irreversible mankind processes. But it will lead just to a decrease in vita, macro-factor of life, initially full of love and goodness. "

*

Colonel entered the state close to the lethargic sleep. He knew he was about to be come two white nurses like angels. He would have to drink a cup full of corporal sufferings and transformations. And then they would take up the soul.

He saw souls of nurses, managers, performers, Maher’s will and his top managers. One could see in them long time ago hid and depicted boundary of indistinct indignations, a complete separateness of individuals. They played some crazy performance. The representatives of the organization were wearing an almost perceptible dress code, for that they do not stand out from certain boundaries and professional parameters set by his boss and, damn bather, of course, loved their job, joy from a short portion of the boundless power over such things, with a particular pleasure of executioner.

Dux clearly imagined the average employee of the organization, as he at lunchtime eat merrily his vegetable soup with his family, ask his children about marks at school, thinking about fixing the iron and buying a new bed. Between times, in the morning, he kills two rigid men, and applies to the last the fourth level of intimidation. With pleased he observes as a future uncouth fellow writes confession and willingly sells Maher’s army his soul for thirty pieces of silver, and then happily drinks hot chocolate for one dollar from the automatic machine.

Colonel suddenly imagined the process of the cryonics resurrection, by miracle, after using the extract. He saw the city of souls, ready for resurrection. He could not understand where souls live. Whether in the depths of the earth, or on the sky, or on the back side of the moon? Maybe among earthlings, wandering among the villages where they had felt good. Or on the Sun, where in the unthinkable fire born and bear now soul attributes.

*

Dux saw as a soul, just fertilized by the embryo waiting for exciting delight of the divine sacrament, falls into a boiling cauldron of differentiation and actively seeking for its destiny in the myriad of predestination crossroads. Like artificial and natural seas it distinguish present, true from the substitution. At that moment, the soul may be very afraid of the desired mismatch. An ideal dream can turn into distorted fate, fake or even fabrication of the difficult. No one knows at that moment, which fate will they have. Probably, just Moiras can know. However, at this moment, soul can feel the way up or falling down.

That is why, often in the ugly hopeless creature with hang-ups can live a great growing soul. And vice versa, the creature marked with the talent and the seal of purity, falls apart before your eyes piece by piece and falls into the underworld.

And the fire of love can light up both on the full heaven, and in the ninth hell circle, from which there is no escape at all. And, suddenly, the soul surprises worlds with the highest flying up to the glory of the worlds Creator.

*

War leveled everybody with inevitable. War gives the soul a chance to highlight its darkest corners, to break black palaces of hatred with pure tears of repentance, to hear the last words and to see smiles of dying heroes.

But there is another flip side of the war. It makes to send highly organized virtuous souls which willingly fall into their own underworld, nasty to their whole essence, to reduce consciously, directly or indirectly the variety of creatures and to talk always with the died.

Suddenly, Colonel saw a tree invisible to him, which gave another lot: either to fall into the abyss, or to rise above the divine shining.

*

A strong hissing blow of the twine completely destroyed the remnants of his dreams. Medics, talking about something, pushed Dux through white walls and filtered his one side. The Commission, of twenty people, glared at Colonel. Going around the circle, nurses passed Dux through a lot of devices, sensors and scanners online. Inquisitors were looking at changing pictures on the monitors. They were examining the beginner attentively, emotionally and professionally, made him to put out his tongue, bared his buttocks, ordered to pronounce tongue twisters and put nils and crosses in the computer. Whole information was showed on huge screens.

Colonel observed with curiosity the mirror of corporal intimidation, probably, from the world creation. Dux has already felt many of them on his own back. Images were made in the schedule quite finely. With the Shallow Latin there were written names. Pictures were numbered like solitaire card.

Public Theater of punishment, torture and executions, as a mean of cleansing of undesirable elements, has always been to nowadays: shoes with calks, a heretic fork, a chair for witch bathing, cat's claw, quartering with horses, bulb-press for Skull, the cradle of Judah , garrotte, a screw, Spanish chair, pectoral, Iron maiden – Nuremberg maiden and licking of goat hooves and moistened with brine, so vividly described by Hippolytus de Marsiliis .

Punishment by the wall, drowning in the marshes, beating with stones, pouring into one’s throat molten gold, prolonged hold of acid in one’s eyes, tray torture, crushing with a heavy object, broken of back, putting thorns into the urethra, dissolution of salt in the ripped up belly, hugging with the dead, a wick, a boat with holes, a pincushion, a semi-man on a hot copper grid, pumping with vinegar, strengthen, tying with the corpse and winding nerves on sticks.

Different people added their own to that amazing treasury. Progress of the twentieth century has added such modern distortions and innovation, as the overlap of tubes with splitting axes, burning in the locomotive furnace, the electric chair, freezing outdoors, dissolving without a trace in sulfuric acid, pumping with acetone, steam rooms, gripping male genitalia in vise, injection of gasoline into vein, the cyclone no. 7, lack of sleep and the Afghan Red tulip.

Colonel was stronger than physical intimidations. He was afraid of one thing to betray himself. And then the outside world will calm down him with a little warm lie.

*

Dux was tempted by the theory and practice of domino like a well-trained professional of the late twentieth century. In the depths of the global wars of the century there were born new types of people manipulating. Two hundred and fifty big and small countries have turned into a huge landfill of a new rapidly growing world. There were built ominous serious institutions to manage a lot of people, where a person is considered as an average set of certain parameters, who, God forbid, should not exceed the limits of accepted. Having penetrated into all levels of society, these organizations, one way or another, created the specter of total societies. Their internal logic denies natural prohibition of the Creator and human natural catechism, motivating it by important high hazy interests and giving sensible carte blanche with an awful license. Framed by the advanced technology and solid experimental and informational base, these organizations instead of torture, executions and denials, make the society to play in a puppet theatre, effectively manipulate doses of lies, fear, false enthusiasm, use the whole arsenal of people managing. Instead of burning in fires, hangings and shootings, states, most of all, began using a soft deterred force, creating an attractive image. Huge computers, full of thousand elite brains, receiving salary over the average one, create long-term scenarios in every segment of society and track individuals, who are out of set. Experts sharpened mediators catamnesis of reports, hack personal space, use psychotropic drugs, intimidate with threats of losing jobs. Cultivate hatred, slightly covered with the fig leaf. Invent refined witty tricks. Imprison, put into mental homes or effectively kill them. As said one great manipulator: "To believe in a lie, it must be terrible."

*

And in front of him there appeared an endless wall. A wall of alienation, meanness and fear. A tsunami which can destroy his ego to the ground.

But he didn’t know another.

At the end of his life, he saw a light at the end of the tunnel. He was horrified and frightened of crumpled pile of errors and yellow swamp of self-deception. Every day, every hour, every second he began with the first uncertain steps to clean out polyps of his own mud, to lie and to murder of beautiful, falling down and getting up again.

And blowing up the bonds, moving toward the hurricane, Dux tried to do something impossible, returning to the original purity and repentance saving two hundred generations of his family.

He knew that he could return not only himself. But many others too.

*

Colonel noticed that everyone passing was assigned a three colors badge number: golden, silver, bronze. Dux was given a silver medal. His neighbor was given a bronze table. His intelligent face was tear-stained and unhappy. From his throat one could constantly hear sobs and cries so that one could that a person was completely crushed.

– And where to send you?

– To hell! – He suddenly calmed down and said in a firm voice. – To the golden one give a new form. They are taken without inquiry. To the silver one they arrange interrogations and tortures, with change of consciousness – he lamented again. – And a redesigned skin and blood will leave from us. And our ashes will be scattered.

– Does the eternal love exist?

Colonel realized his neighbor had something to tell, but two men had been separated forever by that accidental meet. He was given a striped prison uniform with the cap and left in the parallelepiped room without windows, chairs and tables. Dux enthusiastically went around the tiny perimeter. The time stopped in the center of the space by the order "stand at ease." Silence overcame his being. He couldn’t hear any sound. The outside world full of troubles, danger and constant irritants, in a moment closed silently. He enjoyed the novelty of sensations. Walls were, probably, from effective soundproof panels.

*

Unexpectedly, inspiration swept over him like a breath of spring wind, like trepidation of main words excitement, like an instinct of muted mortal danger.

Angels in endless colored kaleidoscopes unraveled new bright missing images, going over someone's endless options former lives as a huge solitaire. He saw their second and third rows invisible rows, showing another sound and meaning, birth and death, love and stupor, with unknown words and notes, which don’t exist.

*

Dux could not remember how he leaned against in some unnatural position and as from the fog there materialized a big shiny sleek blond mug, which moved with hand and said:

– Are you drunk?

Colonel instinctively straightened

– Actually, I'm sober.

It was very stupid.

A powerful mug, with a neat beard, obvious demonic desire to be the absolute head of the county, an insinuating voice, sadistic leaning, with a deep knowledge of human soul and body, as if a read book, he seemed was about to smile and to say: "I was joking." But he became severe, he clenched his teeth, his eyes stared sharply at Dux and he hatred approached him.

– Do not pretend to, that's a bit too thick, if I decipher you.

He grabbed him with his greasy red fingers.

– Come on.

They passed through dark corridors and entered a room where he was waited for by two chiefs.

– Title the paper. Without my tip.

Colonel began to write something like a brief autobiography. A few minutes later the three of them at the table quickly grabbed a sheet of paper and eagerly read the text. During reading their faces darkened, and then a blond boss stood up and furiously shouted:

– What did you write?! You composed unnecessary autobiography. Your scribble is good only for the toilet. You decided to mock at us! Will you write the truth?

– I have nothing more to add, – said Colonel.

– You probably do not understand me, I ask you, what conclusion have you drown? – pressed the chief.

– I have already said.

– Well, what conclusion have you drown to? A conclusion is a conclusion?

– Write and sign it.

– We do not make mistakes! We will not act regardless of everything. I repeat, we can do anything, and we will not act regardless of everything.

– A conclusion ...

– Attention, start you work! – a blond fat man grinned.

There started a terrible battle. Seventy beats with a whip, rubber batons, burned electrical wires, sticks, stools ... They burned the body with a cigarette, a lighter and a candle. Beat everyone severely with: hangers, rulers, paperweights, keys, boots, fists and in sides. They beat the knees, especially painful beat in head. They spat in his mouth. They threatened to "make thin", nicknamed "a diver" in all their actions one could see lies and provocation. It was terrible to believe that everything was suffered by a living person. But that was only the beginning.

A few hours later, Colonel lost partly his heart.

– You will experience the same things, – ordered the blond and the assistants began to sound into Dux ears.

– You won’t scare me, I'm not afraid of you, you will answer someday for taking innocent.

– End of tales! We'll turn on the transformation of consciousness – The blond said.

He was thrown into a cement basement with moldy rotting. Then took to the bath, washed with the hose, dressed in a new grey decent robe and brought him handcuffed under supervision of sanitation of the tall to a shining bright room with the mysterious large medical equipment. A nurse, a medical assistant and a blooming lady helped to dress up Colonel in something like a wetsuit or a tight-fitting suit, in a way that he had holes only for eyes, nose and mouth.

– Will it be painful? – asked Colonel.

– No, – said the lady calmly.

– Come on, – ordered the nurse. They brought this strange cosmonaut to specialists, they were five. They indifferently looked at a toy victim and stared at the screen. The head of the team with a forgettable face was hidden behind thick small glasses. He looked at the poor with a cynical smile, as if he knew a secret which had a senior officer.

– Look, – he cheerfully opened a thick plump virtual folder with a large monitor. – We have prepared some excerpts from your, it must be said, work.

Slideshow impartially painted his carefree childhood, fixing certain points, such as: torture of cats, early play in mom and dad, broken social engineering, stealing apples at the vegetable store. Short episodes showed pacifist sentiments: private refusal to kill a soldier from Angola from the operation Proteus, absence without leave, communicating with foreigners, climbing through windows, internal dissent, stealing of military property on trifles, outright cowardice, escape, weakness and at the end, betrayal. With the age, Colonel had to leave soldiers, to bring the platoon to the swamp, to feed people with promises, openly deceive them, to save their miserable skin and to lie everyone that you are a real lifesaver. For years he has learned to expand the world and to see it from above. Sadly Dux saw narrow blinders of human actions boundaries. Coming out of the delineated red flags, he looked at fussy lifestyle with the desire to pity colorful worlds, to be a giver of life to enjoy positive development and to be happy with it.

The bitter pill of the back side of his life was his work. Cleaning-up operations, shooting, enemy extortion, secret murders, tricks, deceptive maneuvers, counter-terrorism, managed terrorism, explosions of dams, rivers of blood ... contrary to expectations in his heart was a hope that he could change his fate, that he would be a herald of a new formation. By the end of his days, he began to turn into almost Mennonites, a man who eagerly caught a breath of fresh air of a new bearing world.

– Ready? – the head pointed at something, like a coffin.

– What is your name? – Asked Dux.

By surprise he replied:

– Sean. It’s for what?

– I see through you. You hide burned unfulfilled childhood dreams behind the thick glasses. Why? Is it lack of love? Job surrounded by a concrete lie where the truth had been lost long ago? Furthermore, once, the first move was wrong, and you continue to be responsible for something like a screw of a rusty mountain?

Sean flashed with his glasses furiously.

– Go a little louse. You will feel good there.

– Instructions prohibit?

– You are running into?

– Revelation upon revelation?

– Well! I am American! I’m a worker. We are Babels. My favorite work is to kill people like you. You're not a traitor. Bachelor! You and all the rest will pass our organization ... Death to bais! – he cried fierce and frenzy.

Before changing consciousness, which is worse than death, Dux sincerely laughed. He regretted that the executioner, who could not, and did not want to get rid of his favorite systems. And at the last moment, he believed that he could win, by miracle. Because of love.

He was calm and his soul, easily and peacefully, flew through all nine colors, nine borders and nine worlds, approaching heaven ineffable light.

After some manipulations, such as injections of tranquilizers, psychotropic drugs, temporary suffocation of certain parts of the brain, a metered local electric shock, selective erase of memory, relaxation with handfuls of the multicolored pharmakos, powerful excitation with benzene derivatives, Colonel began to lose his own identity. His face began to turn into a terrible wolf's grin. His hands began to twitch like sleeping dog paws. In his whole being spilled fierce hatred to all everything, involved in disbelief and fear. He stopped distinguish the truth to which he has been going for the whole life. Cutting out, smothering, corroding by the new computer program knife his personality cut off on parts. In front of him there appeared a new look: an evil primitive animal, a toad with complexes, the old woman, stale mediocrity. Primary strength became to leave him.

Once a great soul began to fill up with the void of foreign energy, fatigue meaningless of the eternal war and the stupid expectation of the end of the black-and-white film, prolonged movie called "life."

Dux has ceased to be, himself. He felt homeless in a strange city, without means, surrounded by a complete hopeless loneliness. And then, when his deep wounds were down uploaded with anabasis there was a false temporary pleasure. And then with hopeless despair he saw as into the depths of his being was slowly creeping a long silver thread, waving foreign energy of immortality. In his eyes flashed tears of despair, which complex animals have.

Dux knew that he would never be able to be himself, forever losing the code of himself. He silently prayed for mercy, for the end of his days, but he knew that he would have to lose at all fronts, to give up and lose everything. With widened pupils, Dux saw as if through a microscope as that long shiny scaring energetic uncertainty decided to turn him into a tin soldier of the will of others, killing himself inter vivos.

Medics were surprised to see that something has gone wrong. Fastened to the pipe with straps the recruit was burning in an incredible heat. His body was in a terrible tremor with a feverish rhythm.

– Look, he may die – forced one of the orderlies. Really, body temperature showed 42.7 Celsius.

Sean ordered that to call a military doctor.

He made a drastic anti-fever injection. But a few minutes later it became clear that that had no effect. The body of Colonel writhed in convulsions in some senseless horrible dance. He growled, howled, uttered laryngeal low sounds. The whole body dripped with hot sweat and his terrible stupid senseless face-mask effervesced foam near the mouth.

Some of nurses were sick. A military doctor looked with small eyes at the dying patient and at surprised chief.

– Well? – asked Sean.

– It is a shaman but not a man! – muttered a military doctor.

– What would you advise?

– Maybe to shoot? Or we can have problems.

Body bended and began to pull straps, banging on plastic pipe stronger and stronger.

– So, take away, quickly! He will break the technique. It is expensive!

Powerful orderlies grabbed the patient squirming like a worm, tied with belts and took away like a doll to the draining. He was brought to the place of execution, and put on the rise. Usually there were put incorrigible. Sean asked the nurses to leave. He thought, took out a huge frightening gun "Desert Eagle DE" caliber is 357. Magnum, was playing with it, aiming at different body parts and showing his teeth, twitched with his head. Having played, he turned on a brief solemn music, moved away for fifteen paces, put on the headphones and got ready to fire like in a dash.

*

When, during injuries his life hung in the balance, he was opened fragments of suburbs of incredible palaces with beautiful large and small creatures, and they were a lot. Through the blue haze, being in the intermediate state of death misgiving, he hardly guessed the outlines of the unknown, unreal, infinite, wonderful city, which is not exist.

*

But now Сolonel was in a completely different state. He broke away from strong threads with which life tied him, tying to billions of webs and make his global freedom-loving soul fake. He saw both the past and the future and the present. Mazes of life suddenly became visible and permeable. He floated in the space, bowing before approaching souls: living endless bearing small and large forms. Created from another matter of incomprehensible to people. Fears of acts and birth regret retreated. Architecture to infinitely small and to infinitely large quantities formed in a single carpet of different boundless universes, giving incorporeal the opportunity to think, feel, suffer, be sick, to admire, to create, to enjoy, to calm down, to fight, to despair, to win and to live.

He comprehended slightly and easily a breath of life in the depths of unimaginable Earth's gravity, in plasma flows at the edge of a fine needle, and acquired the lost keys from the knowledge of good and evil, given by the Creator. He bowed to great solemn many-voiced consonance of midday hot day shadows, full of chorus of love and a solemn birth langour, breeding live forever. In heaven there was a final battle between good and evil.

And at that moment she came, swung over the high bridges of blue on a bright white shining of the bride and moved toward him. And he recognized her. Hundreds of spectators: friends with pure thoughts and villains, brothers in spirit and scoffers, everybody bowed to him, defeating decay, pain, bitterness and imposed others pain. He was equal to it, and in all universes he passed roars of great souls. With incredible strength, he made a first step around his original huntsula who was known just to the gods, and it answered the same inaccessible code of future love. His earthly essence in amazement fell into the dust, couldn’t look up at the gods dance. And a shining fire chariot in an angelic choir moved to heaven, diverse living chessmen with invisible roar, stronger than a star birth.

*

Sean had been recently forty-one. At school not far from Springfield, he did not immediately get a diploma at the college. Some time he served in the US Armed Forces. For a long time he has been working as a security guard at the, during his spare time he attended lectures of computer science. Then, he went uphill. His little pig eyes flashed with poorly concealed secret pleasure. He had dark hair with a forelock with dark locks, square glasses and careless unshaven stubble, which usually disappears just in front of the administration. He began often taking weekly holidays and he wasn’t in need of money and got married a Malaysian student. Sean had never told anyone about the place where he worked and where he was going. His wife and children got used not to ask Dad about anything. The family, except his father, spent 150 thousand dollars a year, had a good house and a bungalow in Hawaii. The raid of secrecy gave the family extra zest.

The chief, who had never been seen again, had noticed long ago a gifted employee and gradually promoted him to the rank of the top management. However, the last quickly became bored working in Maher’s offices. Really, Sean had confided during the field work, especially during the "royal hunt." It was his element. He succeeded in hunt for people.

In the ominous office there was believed that to get quality material of the sacrifice, he must be pumped with adrenaline. As a rule, before it, they made an express portrait of a miserable person. They made rating of miserable affections and what he was afraid of very much. Anxiety of the client reached its climax.