/* Публикуется окончание фантастической повести.
*/
10.
In search of sympathy, Roman wandered into the cabin with Varyka.
The girl, in a gloomy mood, sat on the bed and read the printout from the second interview.
— Did you come to finish up? – she suggested.
— Uh-huh, — the pilot joyfully confirmed.
— Rook h9-a9-tau-12.
— Pawn d4-d5-alpha-5.
— How did it go, in your opinion?
— Terribly.
— Knight g6-f8-omicron-4.
— Rook a9-a7-psi-10.
— What did you dislike the most?
— Are you familiar with Schwartzman's method?
— No.
— I got acquainted with it on my way to you. It's a complete nightmare. I don't understand how Yuri can use such a method – it's absolutely raw. First, it allows for improvisation, and second, it insists on implementing the most absurd concepts possible. If only you could hear what Yuri was saying: gravitational clumps, the edges of the clump melted from the heat of the prominence, skin fused with muscles into a single organism. Damn it!
Overcome with feelings, Roman shook his head.
— Pawn d7-d6-phi-9.
— Especially since Yuri followed Schwartzman's method half-heartedly. Several of his phrases clearly allowed alternative thinking. During the interview, we walked on the edge of a razor, but he didn't notice anything, in my opinion.
— Do you mean you understand euthanasia better than a professional contactor?
— Looks like it, — Roman admitted.
— Report to the management, — suggested the clever Varyka. — It's still civilization of the seventeenth type.
— Pawn a2-a4-beta-12.
— Are you scared?
Roman jumped up in seriousness:
— Do you realize that reporting over the head of your direct supervisor is unethical?!
— Why are you yelling at me? If you don’t want to report, don’t. By the way, I was absent from the interview – I have no idea what you discussed with the sirlyans and according to which method. Remember, I was sent away at the last moment. I didn't even read the printout.
— What do I have to do with it?
— Pawn a4-a5-theta-2.
— It's Yuri's individual decision, — clarified Roman. — Logical, by the way. There are two sirlyans, and there should be two earthlings.
— Maybe you tipped Yuri off!
Roman looked at his friend in confusion.
— Why would I?
— I have no idea. To meet your sirlyanka in private, perhaps.
— Knight g4-h6-tau-13.
— Silence is a sign of agreement.
Roman realized what Varya had said.
— What did you say? Who to meet???
— With a Syrlayan!
Roman looked at Varya once more. Her cheeks were flushed.
— That girl who laughs at the wrong moments?
— Don't pretend there are many Syralayans. She's the only one! You said it yourself – she's not bad.
Roman was completely astonished.
— Are you jealous of me with a Syrlayan?
— Rhinoceros f5-b8-gamma-10.
Tears welled up in Varya's eyes.
— I don't understand.
— What’s so hard to understand? – the girl cried out hopelessly and absurdly. — Your Syrlayan is a silly fool!
I hadn’t noticed such behavior from her before.
Shocked, Roman reached out with hugs and comfort:
— Varya, wake up. Besides me, there were two other guys in the meeting: Yuri and that… what’s his name… Gril. The latter, by the way, is her legal mate. Should I ask Yuri to take you to the next interview as a third candidate?
— Don't touch me!
— Varya, this girl and I belong to different cosmic races! We can't even have common offspring… probably.
— Oh, – Varya sniffed bitterly but logically. — Have you already thought about having kids with your Syrlayan?!
— And yet I don’t understand, — Roman said unconsciously.
— What else is unclear???
— You said: “Rhinoceros f5-b8-gamma-10”. Rhinoceroses don’t walk like that.
— They do!
— No, they don't! And don’t you dare follow me!
The girl burst into tears and ran out of her own cabin.
— Varya, but rhinoceroses really don’t walk like that! — shouted Roman after her, but Varya had already fled.
Now you’ll have to search for her all over the spaceship!
11.
— 'Humanism' is calling Earth. 'Humanism' is calling Earth.
— Earth is on the line.
— Please confirm the functionality of Schwartman's method.
— 'Humanism', I sent you a contact person recently. I barely found one available. Can't he manage to figure out his own methods?
— His qualifications raise doubts.
— Send materials for transmission to the space arbitration.
— Understood, Earth. Understood.
12.
At the third interview, the Earthlings were present in full: Yuri agreed to take Varya as the third candidate.
— We stopped at the historical period when the chemical compounds began to form in Sirla, — he began the interview once everyone was settled. — Today, I will tell you what happened next.
But Gril interrupted him:
— I propose a different discussion plan. I would like to ask clarifying questions about the gravitational clumps.
Roman noted: the Sirlians are becoming not only curious but also verbose.
— Why do you want that? – Yuri asked, as was his habit.
— Why are you asking about this?
Applause for the Sirlians.
— You see, Gril, we are the oldest space civilization that has communicated with countless peoples inhabiting all corners of the galaxy. We have a wealth of contact experience. I suggest we follow the planned communication protocol, after which we will answer the questions you may have.
— Does the ancient age of your civilization relate to the order of discussing questions?
— I could explain, — said Yuri, cornered by the insistence of his opponent, — but you would not understand due to your intellectual immaturity. The order of explanations affects the result of understanding. However, if you insist, we can review a video on the topic of religious wars on your planet.
— I’m not interested in religious wars.
— Is it more important to you to discuss some gravitational clumps?
— Yes.
— May I ask why?
— According to you, Sirla formed from gravitational clumps. Moreover, you did not observe the moment of its formation.
— We arrived later.
— What made you think that Sirla formed from gravitational clumps?
— We made a logical conclusion by analogy, by observing millions of other planets…
Roman listened to Yuri's arguments with the Sirlians and prayed that fate would spare him this time — and humanity along with him. Varya also kept quiet, examining her manicured nails.
— And they all formed from gravitational clumps? – Gril insisted.
— The vast majority, — Yuri held his ground.
— So not all?
— Yes.
— What other mechanisms of planet formation are there?
— There are many. Planets can form as a result of celestial bodies colliding with each other...
...which, in turn, are formed from gravitational clumps? - suggested Grill.
- Something like that. I'm not a physicist; it's hard for me to describe cosmic processes in mathematical formulas.
Rila laughed heartily:
- So, the primary formation of planets occurs exclusively from gravitational clumps. But in that case, it makes no sense to talk about the method of formation: we can only speak of the primacy or secondarity of formation. At the same time, the very concept of gravitational clumps is deciphered through the concept of gravitational density, which, in turn, is not deciphered at all...
- It is deciphered! - Yuri protested. - Simply, not being a specialist in physics, I can't provide the necessary definition.
- That makes no sense. Even if the necessary definition were found, it would require subsequent definitions, which in turn would require further ones, and so on to infinity. That amused me. Your concept of knowledge will always either be incomplete or cyclical.
The Earthlings, not expecting such a long tirade from the Sirlian girl, were momentarily taken aback.
Varya was the first to raise her hand:
- With her laughter, the Sirlian female draws attention to herself.
The Sirlian woman cast a bold glance at Varya.
- The Earth female wants to humiliate the Sirlian with her remark. Why? I have a guess about that.
Grill rose from his chair and announced:
- We are tired, and we ask to be sent home.
- Will you come to the next conversation? - Yuri asked, also getting up.
He looked noticeably flustered.
— Yes.
With each 'yes' spoken by Grill, Rila reacted in her known way. At the last 'yes', Grill was standing, so the Sirlian had to stretch. And suddenly, Rila left Grill, ran over to Roman, and laid her palm on his head, then tousled his hair. The Earthlings stood frozen in amazement.
- That's too much! - Varya exclaimed.
- I apologize: I couldn't help myself, - Rila giggled.
- I demand you return us to Sirl immediately, - Grill insisted and suddenly smiled for the first time since their acquaintance.
13.
— 'Humanism' is calling Earth. 'Humanism' is calling Earth.
— Earth is on the line.
- Autanazia is becoming unpredictable. The recording of the conversation is attached. Please forward the materials to the conflict commission.
- Did you have a disagreement, 'Humanism'?
- It would be preferable to replace the contactor.
— Your request will be considered by the conflict commission.
— Understood, Earth. Understood.
14.
— What do you mean by that, Roman?
With those words, Yuri, darkened and with a dropped jaw, grabbed Roman by the shoulder.
— What is it? – Roman inquired, freeing himself from the grip.
— You’re portraying yourself as an innocent lamb, yet I know everything.
— Yes, I sent a message to the conflict commission, if that's what you're referring to, — the pilot said coldly. — It's my right. It's good that you were informed about it in a timely manner.
— And what prompted your appeal to the conflict commission?
— It's about how euthanasia is being conducted.
— Is something wrong?
An honest conversation was inevitable, of course.
— What's wrong, Yuri? Don't you find that we're far from typical reactions? The Syrians are freely debating with us and seem more than convincing. They are getting smarter by the minute, though it should've been the other way around. It's abnormal! This could lead to unpredictable consequences!
— Do you notice any changes indicating the absence of euthanasia? Like those that Irakli Abazadze neutralized at the cost of his life?
— No, but…
The genuine bitterness that Yuri felt overflowed and flooded the horizon.
— Why the agitation? Why reach out to the conflict commission? Are you burning with righteous hatred towards me?
— Euthanasia is being conducted with errors.
— In what way, given the absence of pronounced negative dynamics, do you see errors?
— Yuri, you cannot debate with the Syrians! – Roman shouted.
As soon as Roman lost his temper, Yuri noticeably calmed down.
— It's allowed.
— It's not allowed! It's not allowed!
— It is allowed if the discussion is forced… But why are you so upset, anyway? Is it because I had to debate with the Syrians due to your bug during the first interview?
— What bug are you talking about?
A chill ran through Roman's chest.
— Did you really think I wouldn't listen to the recording of the first interview? Did you really hope I wouldn't notice your use of the word 'preference,' which was somewhat inappropriate in this situation? That's the original mistake I had to deal with!
— Compared to your mistakes, which are outright forbidden by the instructions, that's a trifle!
— Really? Your anxiety proves that you understand everything perfectly. You should have waited for a professional contactor!
— I acted according to the instructions!
— Is that so? Did you also follow instructions with the woman?
Roman flared up and grabbed his opponent by the collar.
— It's none of your business who I am with!
— I’m in command here, and I care about everything. And ‘Humanism’ is not a family spaceship, for your information.
For a moment, they came to their senses, pushed each other away, and retreated. However, the conversation was far from over.
— My relationship with Varya has nothing to do with this, — Roman spoke, breathing heavily and trying to remain calm.
— Has nothing to do with it, you say... Just so you know, during contacts with civilizations of the eighth type, sexual relations on a spaceship are strictly prohibited!
— The Sirleans are not an eighth, but a seventeenth type civilization!
— And you, without clearance, think you understand the difference between the eighth and the seventeenth type?
— Imagine that!
— What made you screw up the first interview? Were you too smart? Did you rush to start the euthanasia, hoping that the commander wouldn’t be sent and you’d stay on the spaceship alone with the woman? And when I was eventually sent, did you decide to blame a stranger for your own bug?
— There was no bug!
— Roman, you don’t have clearance, and you conducted the first interview poorly. Fortunately, the latest method I applied, Schwartzman’s method, smoothed over the situation, though not completely.
— That’s what you call ‘smoothed over’?! The Sirleans are visibly getting out of control! With your stupid Schwartzman method, you’re making mistakes every minute of the conversation.
Yuri squinted as if about to suggest something worthwhile.
— What do you have against Schwartzman’s method? Have you even familiarized yourself with it?
— Imagine, I have. It’s underdeveloped, in my opinion.
— Shove your amateur opinion up your backside, and deeper! – the contactor cheerfully advised.
— You’ll wake them up! Remember Abazadze!
— By the way, — Yuri recalled. — Did I give you the order to review the video about Abazadze’s feat? Did you carry it out?
— No, but…
Yuri beamed at his own foresight.
— That's it, my patience has run out. For a long time, I turned a blind eye to how you interrupted me during interviews and hindered my work. I didn’t hold your mistake during the first interview against you. At your request, I allowed Varvara to work as number three, even though her participation was unnecessary. However, you didn’t appreciate my kindness and tactfulness, and now my patience has run out. That’s enough, Roman – you are banned from interviews.
— Please, but that doesn’t solve the problem of civilization of the seventeenth type.
— That’s no longer your concern.
Yuri left, but Roman stood for a few more minutes with clenched fists.
"Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!" — tore from his cold chest.
15.
The video started. A warning message in the corner of the screen read: "Exclusively for Earthlings. Representatives of other cosmic civilizations are strictly prohibited from viewing this."
The announcer began:
"Irakli Abazadze was twelve years old. The boy was born an orphan and lived alone in a small mountain village. There was no one to milk the cow—he had to do everything himself. At the same time, Irakli was registered at the village council as a reality-changing operator – an antilogist.
One morning, when the boy entered the barn, he discovered ten nipples on the cow's udder. How could this be? Irakli distinctly remembered that his cow had four nipples. Yet, there stood his cow in the barn, and no other, but with ten nipples. Spatial scanning showed that the nipples didn’t grow on their own: the change in reality had been forcibly activated from stellar sector 17-85. Shortly before these events, a civilization of the seventeenth type was discovered in that sector, but this was revealed later.
No signals were coming from other operators: the antilogistic abilities of all Earthlings, except for Irakli, had been disabled.
Remaining the only antiologist for all humanity, Irakli entered into an unequal battle against an unknown but clearly hostile force. The battle lasted thirty-three and a half hours without a break. When the rescue team arrived in the mountain village, everything was over: the attack to alter reality had been repelled. The boy, utterly exhausted by the inhuman strain on his psyche, was barely breathing. The efforts made by the rescuers bore no fruit. Unfortunately, they could not save Irakli.
Humanity paid a heavy price for the experiences endured. Aside from the fallen hero Irakli Abazadze, many useful technologies were lost: nuclear circular saws, portable precipitation stimulators, skills of non-inertial telekinesis, and much, much more.
To prevent such a tragedy from happening again, it was decided that all discovered type seventeen civilizations would be subjected to immediate euthanasia, reducing their intelligence to an acceptable level. If this proved impossible, humans would have to permanently leave the stellar sector.
The video was entirely staged, and even quite well made.
Here is a ten-year-old boy from a mountain village laughing contagiously... playing with friends... milking a cow... Suddenly, he discovers with surprise extra teats on the cow's udder. Close-up: the tense boyish face, beads of sweat rolling down it.
The sun sets behind the mountain, but the boy continues to sit in the barn, trying to fend off hostile attempts by aliens to alter earthly reality.
In the morning, rescuers burst into the barn of the small mountain village. Too late: the twelve-year-old hero dies in their arms. Nearby, an unmilked cow moos, having four teats on its udder, as should be.
From Earth, combat starships rush into open space. Their mission is to find and neutralize the hostile civilization of type seventeen. In the cockpits of the starships, among portraits of other esteemed individuals, hangs the portrait of Irakli Abazadze – the antiologist who gave his young life for the well-being of all humanity.
16.
— Hi, — said Varya, entering the cockpit.
Roman looked up and noticed: the girl's chin was painted yellow, like a circus performer.
— Wow! – he exclaimed. — Why did you put on makeup?
— Do you like it, Roma?
After the tantrum, Varya looked unnaturally calm, almost dazed.
— I don't even know.
— I think it's beautiful.
— Well, if it's beautiful, then it's beautiful.
— Not worse than the Syrlanka's, — Varya suggested.
— That's what you meant! – Roman guessed.
— To put my hand on your head? Like I'm her, – the girl humbly suggested.
— Go ahead.
Varya approached Roman and placed her palm on his head. Then she said:
— I’m your mate.
— Really? – Roman said with joy.
— If you want, you can take both of us.
— Both of whom?
— Me and Rila.
I wonder if Varya is pretending or has gone crazy? Then he figured it out: a psychosis caused by jealousy. Therefore, Roman decided to remain calm and loving.
— Very noble of you, — he said. — We still need to ask Rila if she wants to.
— Rila won't refuse. Otherwise, why would she mess up your hair?!
— Don't worry about the hair.
— Why?
— I'm removed from further interviews. You will be working with Yuri as the second. I won't see the Syrlans again.
— Why did Yuri remove you? – Varya asked, instantly forgetting her own troubles.
Roman's fists clenched involuntarily.
— Because he's an idiot!
— Had a fight?
— It's not a fight; it's something worse. I sent a message to the conflict commission.
The girl squinted.
— Did you snitch?
— Yes. I demanded to change the contact person. Yuri didn't like it.
— Who would like it?!
— And now, — Roman got completely fired up, — this idiot accuses me of ruining the euthanasia. When in fact, he ruined it. He screams that the mistake started from the first interview. Crazy psycho!
— Perhaps you are both wrong. No changes in reality are observed; why panic?! Since the incident with Abazadze, none of the type seventeen civilizations have awakened. And there were plenty of them put to sleep – several thousand, I think.
— Should we wait until one wakes up?
— No one will wake up.
— I hope you're right, — Roman agreed, calming down. — Shall we finish the game?
— In three-dimensional chess?
— Well, yes, — Roman was surprised. – What else?
— I've got a headache.
— As you wish.
— Let's start a new game – in two-dimensional chess.
Roman was even more surprised. They had never stooped to two-dimensional chess with Varya.
— In two-dimensional, this prehistoric primitive? Are you serious?
— Seriously, — the girl nodded.
— Go ahead, if you want. Who plays white?
— You start.
— Pawn e2-e4.
— Pawn e7-e5.
— Pawn f2-f4.
— No, sorry, I can't play, — Varja sniffed. — I remember how the Syrleian messed with your hair, and everything inside me turns upside down.
And she walked away, miserable.
17.
The fourth interview took place without Roman.
After it ended and the Syrleians left "Humanism," Roman printed the official record. In the document, after the introductory data, it stated:
“Chudinov Yuri: In today’s meeting we will discuss…
Gril: First, I wanted to ask a few questions.
Ch: Maybe later…
G: No.
Ch: Alright, please ask.
G: Are you the oldest civilization in the galaxy?
Ch: Yes.
G: And the most powerful civilization in the galaxy?
Ch: Yes.
G: How do you conclude that?
Ch: Well… We reached Syrlea on a starship, the one you are on. Doesn’t that technology impress you?
G: No.
Ch: But you don’t have similar technologies!
G: Yes, we don't. However, we are not impressed by such technologies.
Ch: But… Isn’t this fact worthy of respect?
G: Perhaps. But respect has nothing to do with your supposed antiquity and power.
Ch: You have only touched a billionth of our technologies. You can't even imagine…
G: Why should I?
Ch: What do you mean by why?
G: Why should I envision your powerful technologies if they do not impress me?
Ch: At least respect them.
G: Your technologies do not interest me, I have no idea about them, so should I respect them?
Ch: Yes.
G: Earthlings have significant issues with logic.
Ch: Why?
G: You claim to be the oldest and most powerful civilizations in the cosmos, on the basis that you possess technologies that we do not. I see no causal connection between these claims.
Ch: We had more time to create advanced technologies, therefore we are the oldest and most powerful. It’s obvious.
G: It's far from obvious. If we hadn't developed technologies throughout our existence, we couldn't have outpaced you in this aspect. Therefore, the existence of technologies, no matter how powerful they are, proves nothing. I'm sorry, but I don’t see the point in further communication.
C: What? [pause] How do you not see? Why don’t you see?
G: We are creators.
C: Creators of what?
G: Worlds.
C: You are ordinary biological beings, just like us.
G: You are lying. It’s hard for me to say this because the possibility of lying never crossed our minds before meeting Earthlings. Siryans do not lie to each other; we didn't even have such a concept before meeting you. You took advantage of that. In our communication, you tried to make significant adjustments to our worldview, and thus to the world around us. The world worsened after your attempts, and we had to roll it back. This required preparation and took a certain amount of time—hence our subsequent meetings—but overall the work was completed successfully. I don't see the point in communicating with you, Earthlings, because I can't trust the information coming from you. The only positive aspect is that we learned about the existence of deliberate lies. We intend to live on with this paradox: rolling it back would be the greatest folly. With you, biological beings from planet Earth, I bid farewell. Creators of worlds should not fall into dependence on their creations.
C: You will say goodbye to us when we want you to. You have no idea of our power…
Rila: [laughter]
C: What, what else?
R: Varvara, you have a wonderful Siryan makeup. Did Roman appreciate it?
Zyablova Varvara: None of your business!
R: Your reaction is so predictable.
G: The makeup is beautiful. Yellow suits the females.
Z: Thank you.
C: Dear Siryans, there has been a misunderstanding between us. I propose we meet again and discuss everything in detail. We, representatives of two powerful cosmic civilizations…
G: What, we are also powerful? We don’t have your spaceships, we don’t have a translator for alien languages, and all the other things you boast about. We only have Sirlya. I ask you to return us there immediately.
18.
Breathing hatred towards each other, they collided in the corridor.
— What do you call a person who ruined the euthanasia of the seventeenth type of civilization? – asked the darkened Yuri.
— A fool? – suggested Roman.
— That person is called a traitor.
At this phrase, the contactor's jaw came to life and jutted out.
— And what happened?
— Don't you know?
— I do know; I read the transcript of the interview. You really did ruin the euthanasia. Congratulations. According to the Instruction on extraterrestrial contacts, point 256, we must immediately leave the contact location. That's enough of the command... The fullness of power returns to me, 'Humanism' is preparing for departure.
— It's not that simple, Roman, not that simple, — Yuri blocked the way. — I listened carefully to the recording of the first interview conducted under your supervision. You weren't just conversing with the Sirlians; you weren't just conversing...
— What was I doing, in your opinion?
— You were exchanging secret signs.
The pilot opened his mouth.
— Are you crazy?
— Didn't expect me to dig deep? — the contactor hurriedly, with shining eyes, revealed the secret. — Right now, I'm finishing the decryption, and when I finish, everything will fall into place. I asked you what you call a person who ruined the euthanasia to give you one last chance to repent. But you didn't take that opportunity.
— You're an incurable psycho!
— However, your motivation is clear even without decryption, — Yuri continued. — Your leadership before my arrival, the anticipation of a new contactor's arrival, sexual revelries on the deserted starship, the denial of the newest Schwartzman methodology – everything comes together in a tight little knot, doesn't it?
— What knot?
— A tight one.
Roman grabbed his head.
— No, why should I listen to this nonsense?!
— You entered into a criminal conspiracy with the Sirlians to remove me from the starship, and you almost succeeded. If I hadn't figured out your intentions after analyzing the course of events. It happened late, but it happened. A subtle game, Roman, extremely subtle. But you can't outplay me.
— You have paranoia.
Yuri nodded in agreement:
— And the Sirlians keep saying: paranoia. That's the best proof of your coordinated actions. Did you slip up?
— I've read the transcript; there's no such phrase. You're provoking me.
— They said that after the conversation, before the departure, so it didn't make it into the printout. They called me a complete paranoid. And don’t act surprised. I have a psychological education, I see right through you. The accusation of my chronic psychosis was planned and executed by you with the direct involvement of our—more precisely, your—friends from the Syrlen.
Some thought had been pounding in Roman's head like a hammer for a long time, but could not break through.
— And when did you come to the conclusion that I am an agent of the Syrlen civilization? Based on the latest interview?
— Right on the mark!
Roman trembled with rage and made a decision.
— Prepare for departure. From now on, this star sector is off-limits.
— Here, I am still the commander!
— Not anymore. And you never were.
— No, I am!
The contactor extended his hands toward Roman.
— Get out of the way, idiot, — the pilot rasped.
He stepped forward, collided with Yuri, who was waving his arms, and struck him in the chest with his fist, sending him aside.
19.
Varya was found in the conference room. The girl was in a melancholic mood – it was evident from her Syrlen makeup. She hadn’t washed it off since the first time she tried it.
— What do you think about the last interview? – Roman asked.
— They refused to communicate.
— Yes, I know. But why?
Varya shrugged:
— Fools.
Roman didn’t want to clarify who.
— So, a fiasco?
— A complete one.
The fiasco indeed looked total and unquestionable.
— The "Humanism" will have to be evacuated. From now on, this star sector is off-limits for humanity.
— Evacuate it, — Varya agreed in a indifferent tone.
— What a way to spoil the procedure! I hope this idiot’s career is over. Unfortunately, my biography is tarnished.
— Are you upset?
— You’re asking.
— You won’t see your Syrlen again.
— Ah, — remembered Roman. — You’re thinking about that…
— Kiss me, please, — the girl asked in a trembling voice.
— Please.
They kissed.
— Damn! — exclaimed Roman, thawing a little. — I got your makeup on me.
He ran his hand along his chin. Yellow streaks remained on his palm.
— It didn’t bother you before, — Varya said.
Roman didn’t understand.
— Who didn’t bother?
— The makeup.
The thought struck again from inside his head. It couldn’t break free.
Varya looked intently at Roman.
— What's up?
— There's a thought spinning in my head, but I can't grasp it.
— I've been feeling off lately too.
— I'll catch it right now, and we'll immediately drop out of orbit, — promised Roman.
They fell silent.
— Will we have time to finish the chess game?
— Which one, three- or two-dimensional?
— It doesn't matter. Let's play two-dimensional. I can't do three-dimensional — I forgot the position of the pieces.
"I'll remind you," Roman wanted to say, but suddenly realized that he also didn't remember the positions.
— Strange, I don't remember either.
— We've had too much thrown at us, — Varya said.
— Yeah, probably.
They looked at each other and took each other's hands, as in a moment of danger or tenderness.
— My head is spinning because of this autanasia, — said Roman, trying to calm the girl, as well as himself. — But it's all behind us. We're going back to how things were, as if there were no seventeenth-type civilization. And no Siryla either.
The planet hovered in the viewport, a cold yellow, interspersed with portraits of Leonardo da Vinci, Copernicus, Dostoevsky, Mendeleev, and young Irakli Abazadze. Only one partition looked forlorn — due to Varya's portrait being turned backward.
Roman approached the wall and turned the portrait to face forward. The Sirylians wouldn't be appearing here anymore — hiding the blue sky from them made no sense.
He stepped back to admire it and gasped in surprise. In the photo, instead of the blue earthly sky, a yellow Sirylians' sky shone, and Varya smiled in yellow Sirylians' makeup against its backdrop.
20.
— 'Humanism' is calling Earth. 'Humanism' is calling Earth.
— Hello, Earth is listening!
— They're waking up! They're waking up!
— Who's waking up? I don't get it.
— Seventeenth-type civilization on Siryla. The autanasia failed. They woke up and attacked reality, but first our psyche. We couldn't timely diagnose the reality shift because we got quite dumb. Now the changes are obvious.
— You guys are unbelievable!
Source: habr.com
