Chapter 1
The 80th year of the true era. Phoenix, the capital of the world. Eastern Siberia.
A black electric bike pulled into the deserted nighttime school parking lot almost silently, its hull playing up the reflections of the yellow perimeter lights of the school grounds. The bike stopped in the parking space closest to the entrance, causing an immediate reaction from the elderly school security guard in the guardhouse. He threw his entertainment magazine on the desk, put the cigarette he was about to light behind his ear, hastily removed his glasses and stared at the CCTV monitors, zooming in on one camera image after another.
In the flickering light of the dim phosphor lamp he could barely see the slim figure of a woman removing her protective motorcycle helmet. She hung the helmet on the handlebars and shook her head, straightening her long black hair. She pulled her streamlined yellow-glasses out of her breast pocket, put them on, and headed toward the glass doors of the main entrance of school number one hundred and twenty-one, as the sign on the front read. She was so close to the security camera lens that she could already make out the details of her appearance: a woman in her forties, about five feet tall, wearing a tight suit of dark gray, almost black, with zippers, various pockets, chains, and rivets all over it. On her feet, tight-fitting latex composite boots emphasized her athletic calves. The woman flonked toward the school doors with an easy and brash gait. Her slightly slanted eyes and black hair gave away her Asian roots. And she was heavily armed. On her hips were two heavy holsters with semi-automatic Berettas. On her belt hung four spare magazines and several grenades of various purposes. A knife handle with a built-in LED display protruded from a special pocket on his right boot. And from behind his back, the black hilt of a Japanese katana was visible. The temples of her glasses ended in miniature headphones.
She stretched her lips into a tube for a moment, and her entire face became covered with shimmering multicolored spots, which immediately began to move in an orderly pattern across the skin of her face and change color, forming curved streaks in the form of arrows. A second later, the pattern stopped moving, and the woman’s face was covered with black curved stripes coming from her eyes and ending with arrows in the form of bent bird claws, reminiscent of ancient cave painting patterns.
Knock… Knock… Knock… Knock… She knocked on the door with the hard knuckles of her compound glove.
— Who lives in the little house? Who in the low one will die?
She waited patiently for the lights to come on in the school lobby. A young guard with a flashlight came to the door from inside and directed its beam directly into the face of the night visitor. Smiling, the woman allowed herself to be examined under the bright light.
— We’re closed,» the guard said. — Did you want something?
The woman, clearly expecting a different reception, turned her head toward the surveillance camera hanging under the building’s canopy.
A few seconds later, the sounds of approaching footsteps of a man running could be heard.
An elderly guard with a cigarette behind his ear ran out of the corridor leading to the right wing of the school building. Rattling loudly with a bunch of numerous keys, he stumbled toward the entrance.
— Excuse us, excuse us,» the man shouted, panting. He sharply pushed the young man away with his hand and, fumbling with his shaking hands over the keys, chose the right one and slipped it into the keyhole.
The woman patiently watched all these actions, not hiding a satisfied smile.
The door opened.
— Please forgive him, he’s very young. He hasn’t finished school yet. He doesn’t know you,» the older man stammered.
— Do you? — The woman asked in a husky, low, velvety voice.
— Of course I do! — replied the man, calming down a little. — Of course I know! You are the witch of Coven.
The woman leaned down to the guard’s cheek and sniffed defiantly.
— You smell of incense, old man,» she whispered, and turned her gaze to the young guard. — What a handsome boy! — she said, removing a black rubberized glove from her right hand, weighted with lead tabs on the knuckles. — How old are you?
— Eighteen turned eighteen,» the boy replied calmly.
A translucent dark cloth covered her hand, like another glove over her skin. Then the guest ran her slender fingers over the guard’s face, stopping at his cheek.
“No stubble yet,” she began to twirl the brush in front of the boy’s eyes, showing the material of the covering with her fingers. — Do you know what this is? — Seeing the negative silent answer, the witch continued. — It’s a spider’s web, a material ninety times stronger than steel and about the same number of times lighter. I’m covered in it, except for my head. It’s my armor. The web doesn’t save me from fractures and bruises, but it protects me perfectly from any penetration of any foreign objects into my body. It stops any bullets and any steel of any blade. What a handsome boy,” she whispered slowly. Her eyes glistened in undisguised anticipation, -By the way, about the penetration, do you want to take all the cobwebs off me? It’ll be amazing, I’ll tell you that. And then you and I…
— Forgive him,“ interrupted the older guard, who had calmed down a bit, „he’s too young for that.
— It’s no trouble,» she said, reaching up to touch his cheeks with her lips. — If that’s the only problem, we’ll correct the age,» the witch touched the teenager’s cheek with her lips and exposed her tongue, on which sat a dark green, almost black spider. It crawled over to the young man’s face, and sharply thrust its sting into his cheek, injecting a dark secret under the young skin. The boy was paralyzed. The young guard’s hair turned gray almost instantly, and shallow wrinkles soldiered across his face. The young man aged before his eyes.
— Well, that’s different! — The witch hissed, pulling the fascinated spider off her cheek. You look about forty years old! You’re old! Handsome! By the way, this is Mitsu,» she stroked the spider’s back, «a very obedient boy. He’s the one weaving me the best body armor in the world, — the witch let go of the spider, and it deftly climbed up the clothes and snuck into the nostril of the mistress. She put on her glove and looked at the senior guard, «Where are the fanatics?
— There are no fanatics here,“ the old man whispered in a trembling voice, dumbfounded by what he had seen, „religion is outlawed. We don’t want any trouble.
— See my bracelet? — she raised her left hand directly to the guard’s face. — What shade of glow?
— Yellow,» he squeaked, not taking his eyes off the yellowed matte bracelet.
— That means you’re cheating Aunt Tamura,» she wagged her finger at him.
— I’m not cheating, your bracelet is probably malfunctioning,» the old man switched to squealing.
— Are you an expert in electronic speech analyzers?
— No,“ he shook himself, „please, please. Please.
— Yeah, aren’t you ready to die a martyr for the holy faith? Wow! Mitsu can give you a special death, a graceful death, just right for a martyr. He’ll paralyze you, then enter your brain through your nose, activate the pain center, and give you so much pain that you’ll beg him to kill you,» the witch hissed. — A free pass straight to heaven! How’s that?
— No. I’m sorry. Please,“ the guard howled, „I’ll tell you. They’re here. They’re in the basement of the right wing. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything. Sixty men. They’re closed. They know you’re here. They’ve made preparations. There are children there.
— Of course! Well done! CHPSU! — said the woman, then abruptly pulled a knife out of her boot and with a quick upward motion from the bottom, stuck it into the elderly guard’s throat with the handle, which instantly caked the blood around the wound, preventing it from escaping. The display on the handle lit up and gave out full information on the dying man.
— Johan Bilba. Sixty-seven years old. Previous conviction for aiding and abetting religious terrorists,» she glanced again at the aged young man. — This is a standard witch’s knife. It can analyze a victim’s DNA and query the Coven’s databases. Costs as much money as a unicorn’s liver. But Pride doesn’t skimp on witches. What’s your name, handsome?
— Batu,» I said through parched vocal cords.
— What a powerful and capacious Mongolian name! Don’t go anywhere, Batu, — her eyes sparkled again, and her lips spread in a wandering smile. — We still have sex with you on the list,» she slightly turned the blade half a turn, speeding up the slaying. — Do you like this kind of death? It makes me wildly horny. And another thing. If you run, I’ll let Mitsu finish the interrupted procedure. You’re not gonna leave me, are you? You’re not? — The boy nodded faintly at first, then shook his head. — Smart, obedient boy.
The witch pulled the knife from the throat of the dead man and returned it to her boot. Then carefully removed the cigarette from under the dead Johan’s ear and moved it behind her own ear. Pressed the radio button on her chest.
— Tamura to the high witch. I’m in. There will be no need for an assault,» she said loudly.
— Eira’s on the line. Why didn’t you wait for us? — answered a ringing voice from the speaker of the walkie-talkie.
— I wanted to wait by the door. But it’s so beautiful here,» Tamura replied, smiling at her trophy. — Over fifty fanatics in the basement of the right wing. Aware of the raid. And, I have one executed.
— Caduceus? — The voice asked.
— Chin, mouth, nasal cavity, and brain. I’ve also got a boy in his 40s. Such a paw! — Tamura started making eyes at the guard who was frozen with horror at what was happening.
— Do you know why you’ll never be a high witch?
— I know. Because I’m sick in the head. But I don’t care. How’s Max?
— He’s close by, asleep, ready to kill. We’ll be there in three minutes.
— Tamura took Batou’s hand, «You’ve been through so much today. I have to execute you too, after all. You knew about the fanatics too, didn’t you? You knew, didn’t you?
The boy nodded.
— The girls are coming,» the witch continued, «and they won’t like it. And they’re both meaner than I am. Max is one of them. Don’t say a word. Don’t make any calls, don’t answer anyone. I’ll come and get you when this is over. Then I’ll take you back to my place. Come on! — Tamura slapped the guard lightly on the buttock and looked away. — I’ll go meet the girls,» Tamura whispered to herself.
She went outside, pulled a cigarette out from under her ear, lit it, took a deep drag and coughed. The spider instantly popped out of its boot onto the paving stones, turned around, and got into a fighting stance.
— Yes, I feel that cigarettes are crap! — smirked the witch and puffed even harder. The spider hissed. — Well, I don’t have another one, — answered the witch and puffed, this time, deeply. She held her breath and threw the cigarette butt toward the trash can. — That’s it, that’s it! Finished. Hop back on mommy. I promise I won’t shoot lousy cigarettes again.
Her monologue was interrupted by the sound of a bus pulling into the parking lot. A tall, short-haired, russet-haired woman in a lightweight Kevlar body armor over a light gray SWAT officer’s uniform stepped out of the bus. The butt of an assault rifle protruded from behind her back. She took a quick look around the building and snapped her fingers.
A few dozen fighters in black uniforms and helmets spilled out after her.
— First group — twenty meter perimeter zone! — she twirled her finger at the sky. — Target the windows! — commanded the female commander. — The second group — the roof, cover the first! The third group is behind me!
— Why aren’t you wearing a helmet? — Tamura asked. — Afraid Max won’t recognize me in a helmet? — and laughed through her cough.
— You were told not to come in! According to the intel, there’s a megachron of weapons in here. Enough barrels to arm a small army, and enough hydrozite to make a thirty-meter crater.
— So what? Are they gonna fight me? Or are they on a suicide mission? And besides, the guards let me in. What am I supposed to say to them, «I’ll wait outside for the SWAT team while you warn your people?» What if they’re armed? Besides, I had a vision!
— Galatea will be called Laurence? — the commander joked. — Have you had at least one come true? A vision, I mean.
— Don’t be sarcastic! — Tamura pouted her lips defiantly. — The spirits in my dream gave me a fiancé. I have to meet him today! By the way, where’s Ruta?
— She’s in the back of the bus, talking on the phone the whole way. She got herself a fiancé, by the way. What’s up? Tell me.
— I have a trophy boy,“ Tamura whispered, „Eira, I have a personal request: don’t put him in the report.
— We’ll discuss that later. Does he know his way around here?
— Of course! He’s a student of this very school. He knows everything here,» she took Eira’s hand and led her inside.
— Is it a boy? — Eira was surprised. — It’s a man in his mid-twenties!
— Come on. He didn’t do well in school, he’s had a couple of second years, so he looks a couple years older. Don’t twist my words.
— Show us where the grown men and women with crosses on their necks are hiding, boy, — said the commander. — Do they have a lot of guns? They don’t hurt you?
— We have a gym in the basement, — Batu began in a trembling voice, — come on, I’ll show you. They’re down there. Down the stairs.
They went down and came to the massive metal doors.
— This is a bunker from the war,» said a young thin albino girl who appeared from behind the commander. She wore a short blue dress and barefoot military boots, the kind we used to hide in. Four meters of titanium and lead alloy in case of a preemptive epicentric nuclear strike. The bunker’s locked from the inside, so we can’t get in. Completely self-contained, like a spaceship. If we had ventilation, we could send Max to reconnoiter.
— Ruta! Hello, white witch! — Tamura smiled, «Who were you talking to on the phone the whole trip?
— I’m in love! — replied the girl coquettishly.
— Holy shit! You’re Bluebeard!
— Noooo… This time everything is real, — whispered the girl. — The butterflies are tearing up my stomach. The blood is overflowing with hormones. And my heart — knock, knock. It made me want to write a poem.
— No way! About love? Read it.
— Listen. — Ruta looked up and began, «When the waters of Angara crack and the stars drink the gold from the sun. When the molten metal from the holster through the ribs of my heart touches…
— We have dozens of armed fanatics inside,“ Eira interrupted sharply, „the lead-titanium alloy and the power of prayer will hardly allow us to get inside. They will starve to death and become martyrs. And they’ll broadcast their deaths on their video feeds. And you know exactly where that will lead. So let’s stop talking. Let’s try cutting through the metal of the doors. Somebody get the torch from the bus.
A few minutes later, a laser cutter was rolled up to the bunker door. The team engineer removed the remote control from its mount, pressed a few buttons, and set the device in motion. A wide beam erupted from the nozzle, which immediately focused into a narrow beam. The jet of poisonous blue light immediately left a trace on the surface of the doors. The operator pushed the joystick with her finger, and the beam slowly slid down the metal, leaving a deep furrow that, to everyone’s amazement, immediately healed. The engineer glanced questioningly at Eira. The commander, silently, took the remote from the girl and increased the intensity of the radiation to maximum. The furrow grew a few centimeters deeper, but it tightened again.
— I’m wondering,“ Tamura whispered, „is it the alloy components doing tricks or the power of the fanatics’ prayers?
— Are there any other options? — The High Witch asked angrily.
— Is there video surveillance in the hall? — Tamura turned to the guard.
— No, they haven’t installed it yet,» Batu answered guiltily. — The school has no money.
— The bunker must have a warning system,“ Ruta said, „and it must not be switched off. Requirements for military facilities of the Third World. Am I right?
— There is one,» the boy confirmed. — There’s a microphone on the guard.
— What’s it going to do for us? — Tamura asked. — Shall we play Satanic music for them?
— I can try «whisper,» the white witch said.
— «Whispers? There are fifty religious fanatics, united by blind faith, willing to die as martyrs and completely devoid of fear. What are you going to whisper to them? Sim salabim ahalay mahalay?
— I’ll find the tone, the chilling rhymes, the stagnum, the right words, I’ll go whisper. I’m gonna write them a poem. I’ll start with the Far rune, play with the tonality. I’ll try to open the door from the inside. Out of 60, at least one weak one will be found. In the meantime, think of other options. Please do not engage without me. Stall for time and wait for me.
— She’s right,“ the commander said, „if she can open the door, turn off the lights. Let’s hope they don’t have thermal imaging. — Come on, witch, give the place a scare.
Chapter 2
— "...Do not be afraid of anything you have to endure. The devil will cast you from Wednesday into prison to tempt you, and you will have tribulation for ten days. Be faithful to me unto death, and I will give you the crown of Life…» — quoted Revelation from a gray-haired old man. He looked around at the people present, trying to look into everyone’s eyes. The children, surprisingly, seemed much calmer than many of their parents. The women’s eyes filled with tears. Many were hesitant, worried. We had to reassure everyone. — Outside, the devils of hell are waiting for us, armed to the teeth,» he continued. — They call themselves witches. And there is nothing alive in them for a long time. Their only purpose is to serve the devil. Do you know what the witches want to do to us? Most of the Companions will stay here, dying for their faith. The strongest will be tortured physically and mentally to make us renounce our faith. To show that our God is weak. That our God does not exist! That the crucifixion killed our God! That there was no crucifixion at all! — the priest tried to pause, emphasizing the deep sacredness of his sermon, as if it were the last one. — But these creatures will get nothing. The witches themselves will stand side by side with us at the judgment of God. And we will fight no more. We will wait ten days, as the revelation says. Ten days to strengthen our faith. Ten days so that none of us will have a drop of doubt in our faith. I know what constrains you. The devil’s most powerful tool, Satan’s staff, the third facet of Lucifer is fear of death. Fear of disappearing into the void, into nothingness. But did not Christ, our Lord, show us that there is no death? There is no death! — he whispered. — I will quote Paul, who was the enemy of Christians from the beginning: «But if He has not risen, your faith is vain: you are still in your sins. Therefore those who died in Christ are lost. And if we hope in Christ alone in this life, we are more miserable than all men.» Now Paul is the most honored of the apostles because he believed in spite of, not because of. And we will believe the same way. We will believe not in spite of the fear of judgment day, which is at hand. We will believe in spite of the fear of death. Because the Lord is with us! For ten days we will fast and pray. And the power of our faith will keep the walls around us from breaking down. What about the witches? — you may ask. Witches are powerless against this power. They can do nothing. Nothing! And when we ourselves open the doors and let the demons into our abode, we will open the gates of eternal life for us and Gehenna of fire for them! I will personally press the detonator button and give you the promised crown of life, the ticket to the Kingdom of God. We will all die for faith, and in faith we will live on! — The shepherd licked his parched lips. A sip of water would be good now. But the shepherd did not want to show weakness. — The Messiah is coming. He is already born and near. He is already stronger than all of us put together. And if Jesus Christ was born as the son of God and the earthly Virgin Mary by the Immaculate Conception, the new Messiah is a human being, just like each of us. In our image and likeness. And, this man is able to fulfill the prophecy of Revelation. Capable of becoming one with God and leading us to the long awaited Apocalypse. Then anyone and everyone, living and dead, will stand before the Creator. The righteous will receive according to their faith and become angels in Heaven, and sinners, demons and the devil himself will be defeated forever. Do you want to be part of God’s plan? — The old man closed his eyes, so that he could hear with satisfaction the agreement of all.
— We do! — The congregation replied in a near whisper.
— Do you want to stand with Jesus Christ?
The shouts of approval grew stronger.
— Do you want to touch God himself? — For convincing, he turned his eyes to the crowd and raised his hands to the icon of the Creator surrounded by seraphim.
The crowd erupted in a general cheer. An elderly, stocky man standing closest to the shepherd turned to the crowd and raised his palm upward. The people fell silent.
— What should we do, Lord? — he asked.
— Do not be afraid! — The shepherd paused again for a long time. — Do you know what is the special value of Revelation? God Himself speaks to us there! He speaks to us about our last days before judgment. And I saw coming out of the mouth of the dragon, and out of the mouth of the beast, and out of the mouth of the false prophet, three unclean spirits like toads: these are demonic spirits who do signs; they are coming out to the kings of the earth of the whole universe, to gather them for battle on this great day of God Almighty» The toads are waiting for us behind this door. Demon spirits in the form of fallen women. The witches of Coven! They have worshipped the beast that has found a new name for themselves, «Pride,» and the beast has given them strength and power. But they have no meaning in life! They have no faith! And they call our faith by the god-awful scientific term «stagnum.» The Phoenix, the harlot of Babylon on the red dragon, will turn to ashes. The ashes of our revelation. And we will become part of the revelation. Each of us, in our agony, strengthens each other’s faith. And together, through our deaths, we will strengthen the faith of the messiah.
— A loud hissing sounded in the air. — ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff, fffffffffffffffffffe, ffffffffffffffffffffffffffu, ffffffffffffffffffffffffu, fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffar!
It went on like this for a few more minutes until the hissing changed to a whisper.
— Unborn,» the child’s voice and the old woman’s wheeze echoed in unison right out of the walls.
— Uncrucified. — Suddenly it was unbearably cold.
— Unresurrected, — each pulling syllable penetrated the body.
— Unsanctified, — the witch continued to whisper into the public address system, — in the rotten womb… of a dead whore… teeth… worms… the crying of an old woman… the body of a maiden do not disturb yet… in the body of a maiden… a dead god…
It became unbearably frightening. The children clung to their mothers with all their might. And the adults’ faces twisted in horror.
— Dead God...in the roots of the tree...the leaves are black...the angels are drying… on the branches hangs my faith smraaaaaaad… faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…
Panic ensued. Some tried to put their hands over their ears. Others just yelled, hoping to drown out the witch’s whispers. One of those present pulled out a gun, and shot himself in the ear.
The voice didn’t stop. The room filled with screaming, which only added to the effectiveness of the whisper’s impact. People were going crazy in front of each other.
Some tried to hide in the sleeping rooms of the bomb shelter, others ran to the restrooms. But the warning system repeaters were whispering there as well.
Ruta couldn’t see or hear what was happening, but she was clearly enjoying herself. A glowing sign in the form of the Ying rune pulsed around her neck, helping her to whisper correctly.
The preacher was less affected by the whispers than the others. It was as if he didn’t hear the whispers at all. He just stood there and looked confused at the horror that began almost instantly.
After several futile attempts to shout to the congregation, he simply closed his eyes and immersed himself in the Lord’s Prayer
The gunshots sounded more and more frequently. Suicide was the only way to get rid of the wild terror and uncontrollable fear.
Several women and men rushed to the electronic lock panel of the central entrance.
— The deadbolts are in motion,» Eira whispered. — Lights! Max, go! Tamura, get into position. Radios to minimum. Meet the fanatics. Everyone move away from the entrance. They’ve got hydrozite. Bomber with a detonator. Finger on the button. Maximum silence. Goggles to night mode.
Tamura put on her goggles, turned on the night vision function, and silently bared her katana.
The heavy door came into motion, and through the widening gap came screams. The first to run out was a young man, whom Tamura stabbed lightning-fast through the throat with her blade. Then came two women who had been cut open in a similar manner.
— Ruta, shut up! — commanded the commander. — We have contact. Get in here.
The shouting outside the door began to subside. No one else emerged from the ajar door. There was a ray of artificial light coming from inside.
— Max? — asked the young witch who had just arrived.
— «Inside,» whispered Eira, turning off the self-contained lights. The old man is in the far right corner on the detonator. Armed fanatics are gathering around him. And the two just outside the entrance. They’re all carrying rifles. None of them have NVRs.
— What’s the old man waiting for?
— The Coven’s Whip, of course,» Eira smiled. — What a swell death that would be. He’s waiting for us,» she looked toward the door. — Max can’t get any closer. The old man has a very strong stagnum. Max is afraid.
— What are we going to do? — Tamura asked. — I take it that as soon as we go in, we’ll all be blown up?
— We can’t wait either,» whispered the commander. — His nerves won’t hold out…
— Do we have cameras? — Ruta interrupted.
— Two on tripods in automatic mode with online broadcasting.
— Ask Max not to touch them. I’ve thought of something. I’ll take the old man. I’ll give him visions. But I have to have backup. I’ll walk slowly toward him, putting his stagnum to sleep. I just have to make sure I don’t lose sight of him. The team is working on armed targets, you’re both protecting me. And don’t kill the civilians, they need to see everything I’m doing, and the cameras need to capture what’s going on and broadcast it online to the internet.
— Too much risk,» Eira objected. — The old man has a powerful stagnum. Maybe we haven’t dealt with that before. Maybe gas?
— Well, what kind of gas? Eira! Think what you’re saying! — objected the white witch. — Listen to me! I’m older than both of you put together, and certainly older than the old man. I started growing my stagnum long before the war. And if I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have suggested any of this. Besides, once we throw the gas grenades, that’s the start of the takeover. Is there a guarantee he won’t press the button? — Ruta paused to let the others think about the situation. — I’m going in first. It is at this moment that I have the old man’s full attention. It is at this moment that I need protection, as I will be completely helpless. You do your best. How about a floor plan?
The commander pulled a 3D model generator out of her bag, turned it on, placed it on the floor, and stepped back three steps.
— Max? — she called out.
The device came to life and began to draw a glowing holographic picture that showed the central hall of the bomb shelter and everyone there.
— I’m off,“ the young witch said, and added in the whisper she used to scare fanatics, „let’s work.
Chapter 3
Suddenly the whispering stopped. The old man looked up sharply and saw that the front door was ajar. The wrinkles on his face betrayed an extreme degree of despair and hopelessness.
His finger hovered over the detonator button and twitched. His lips trembled, whispering incessantly. He looked around at those present. They had not yet come to their senses, even after the whispering had subsided. Many of them howled, others huddled together in fear. He glanced at the cameras mounted on tripods. They were still recording what was happening.
The chaos and panic had gradually subsided. The rest of the fanatics also turned their attention to the door, behind which there was only darkness. The door was ajar just enough for one person to squeeze through.
Shepherd, like the others, tried to peer into the darkness beyond the door and listen, but there was only a puff of cold air. The draft grew stronger and began to extinguish the electric lights on the ceiling and walls as if it were blowing out candles.
— Witchcraft,» the novices whispered, turning on their phone screens.
Max didn’t touch the cameras, but he dispersed a chilling stream of air from the people who stood in front of the lenses and blocked the angle of view.
— We will stand to the death,» the old man shouted. — To the death! God is with us, not with them! — he tried to put more confidence in his voice. — Shoot any evil that comes through here. They will be many, they will frighten you, but «…fear nothing that you must endure. The devil will cast you from the midst into prison to tempt you, and you shall have tribulation ten days. Be faithful to me unto death, and I will give you the crown of Life…,» the old man quoted the Revelation once more. — And when they come in here, I will fulfill the prophecy,» he held up the detonator, showing his finger on the button. — We will fulfill the prophecy! — the old man emphasized the «we» and shook his hand.
But this time people reacted weakly. Their faces expressed fear and incomprehension, and their bodies shook with cold.
— Jesus! — suddenly shouted the old man. — Jesus! — He pointed his finger at the door, from behind which appeared the luminous figure of a man in a white shroud. Long dark hair, untrimmed beard, a humble yet serene smile. And the eyes of the Son of God radiated the light of heaven. The pastor’s hand slipped off the detonator button.
Two women appeared behind him. The dim light of the phones made it impossible to see them. But it was evident that they had come to defend Christ, and Christ was being shot at. The first, a flexible, swift and incredibly strong woman with two bare short swords, instantly rushed forward, shielding the Savior with her body. She screamed with every swing of her sword, and like a tenacious spider she jumped on the crowd of men with weapons, moving around their necks, knocking their heads off, piercing their throats. In doing so, the spider woman tried to stay between the armed men and the Living God. When she was shot at, she did not try to dodge and went under the bullets herself. The killing force immediately threw her several meters away. She cried out in pain, and fiercely roared and attacked again.
Christ was coming to the shepherd. The Savior looked only at the old man, and did not care at all about what was happening. As if a ghost walking through the crowd, he slowly and confidently stepped barefoot on the cold concrete floor, smiling blissfully.
Another woman walked beside him, firing her pistol continuously, hitting the heads of all those who were aiming at Jesus, and shouting something from time to time. Those who were aiming at this woman were ignited and burned alive before they could fire. And in a few moments the room became as bright as day from such fires. Their screams filled the entire space and echoed monstrously off the walls. The smell of smoke from burning flesh hit the nose of everyone present.
Suddenly, God was hit. A bullet entered his right shoulder, sprinkling the shroud with blood. Christ cried out in pain through clenched teeth, stopped, grasped his shoulder with his other hand, and stopped glowing. The old man was frightened. «You can’t kill God, can you?» he whispered, and looked around. His men were dying all around him, and the witches were carrying out the Coven’s judgment. His hand reached for the detonator again.
But a miracle happened. Christ began to speak first. You could see it in the Messiah’s moving lips. And then he began to radiate divine light again. He straightened up and spread His arms in a cross. Holes were clearly visible on his palms, another stigmata appeared on his shoulder at the place of the shot. The shroud was white again, cleansed of blood. Once again God smiled on the preacher. And once again it was good.
When Christ approached the shepherd, the woman protector stood with her back to the Savior’s back and continued shooting. The shooting was subsiding. The soldiers of Jesus were victorious, finishing off wounded enemies on the floor.
The Messiah waited until the shots had ceased completely and held out his hand to the preacher. With a feeling of great bliss expressed on his face, the old man took Christ’s hand and obediently walked with him toward the door. He smiled and shone with God. The kingdom of heaven awaited them ahead.
— Holy shit! — Tamura shouted as they stepped out of the bunker. Fuck! The most retarded plan in all the universes! Ruta, bitch, not only do you look eighteen, but you have the brains of a chicken. Bitch, that hurts so bad! — she fell to the granite floor, stripped off her weapon, her tight exoskeleton suit, and crawled out of her web. — I’m all blue! — Her face twisted in pain. The witch examined herself. — Three of my ribs are in shreds, one rib pierced me from the inside.
A nurse walked over to her and opened the first aid kit. Tamura took a pack of painkillers from her and injected three semi-automatic syringes into her stomach at once.
— I’ll give you a medal. Uh-huh?! — Eira walked up to Tamura and held out her cloak. — For bravery. Don’t yell like a gypsy at the train station. It worked. I really didn’t know what the hell happened.
— Fuck you! — The narcotic component of the anesthetic began to take effect, and the witch injected herself with another dose, rolling her eyes in anticipation of another wave of euphoria. — I’m going to kill you both someday. Somebody give me a cigarette!
The SWAT team made a final sweep of the armed fanatics and led the others out of the hall. Weeping and moaning filled the school building. Not only had the mission failed, but no one realized what had happened.
— You did good, Tamurach,» said Ruta, who had just arrived. — I trusted you with my life, and you did a good job. I did get shot. In the shoulder. And I have a date with a boy tomorrow.
— That’s okay,» Tamura smiled and injected herself with another dose. Eira immediately took the packet of painkillers away from her. — You can put gum on the hole and it’ll be fine,» Tamura laughed through her coughing. — Just don’t pick at it with your finger. You’ll get sand in it. Does he know your age?
— Shepherd was taken in,» the albino reported to Eira, «I gave him a horse dose of sleeping pills, put him on a bus and sent him to Coven with a platoon of fighters,» she finished her report and showed her tongue to Tamura, who was quite intoxicated.
— Good. I’ve called the buses, they’re on their way. Let’s get the kids out and get Boudicca in,» Eira commanded into the radio and turned to Ruta. — Can you tell me what happened in there?
— We got fucked in all our asses, so what’s there to tell? — Tamura stood up, wrapped herself in her cloak, and lit a cigarette.
— I didn’t ask you,» the commander cut her off and turned to the young witch again. — What did the old man see when he shouted «Jesus»?
— Did he see Christ? — Ruta smirked. — The others saw the three witches, whom the old man followed willingly, smiling. I almost lost control when my shoulder got punctured. But that’s okay! Stagnum, skill, skill and willpower allowed to finish the operation. Listen, Kombat, can I not get a medal, but a bonus? I want a red car.
— We’ll decide tomorrow. I’m on television in the morning — she looked at the surprised faces of colleagues, — aha, invited to the shooting. And some professor. Don’t touch the shepherd without me. Though I’ll probably stop by Coven in the morning.
— Why should I touch him? — Ruth smiled. — You should let him go. Let him go. The whole religious and sympathetic world has already seen its version of the apostate shepherd. In three weeks, when things have calmed down, we’ll quietly kick him out so he won’t try to be a missionary again.
— All right. But don’t let him out without me. Maybe she’ll tell me something interesting. — Eira turned to the woman in the light-colored suit who had been standing at the school entrance all this time. — Claire, take the kids out. Out the back, so the reporters don’t suspect us of being humane. And where’s Boudicca?
An armored SUV pulled right up to the entrance. Two women in camouflage suits got out of the car and opened the back door. A bare foot stepped onto the concrete steps of the school’s porch. The women immediately parted. From the SUV emerged a skinny, tall female figure in a dirty, tattered dress stained with dried blood all over the surface. A small cloth purse hung from her waistband. With slightly graying long hair, a glassy look in her tarnished eyes, and slightly shaking hands, Boudicca looked around for someone. Eira walked over to her and quietly guided her towards the entrance.
— Everyone’s in there,» the High Witch whispered in her ear.
— My girls,» Boudicca moaned.
— Everyone is in there,» the commander repeated. — Go. It’s all there.
Boudicca opened her purse and took out a gypsy needle with a long thread. She entered the building.
Several news crews had already pulled up to the school and cordoned off the building on all sides. Reporters were snooping around, trying to get someone to interview them, but all the Coven fighters refused to comment. Only Eira was giving out clichés to several television stations at once. The most curious journalist with a young cameraman ran up to Tamura.
— What’s going on there now? — She asked, holding out the microphone to the dark witch. — Why did only one witch go in there? Why does she needle and thread? What is she capable of?
— A very good and valid question! — Tamura replied, exhaling a puff of smoke. — To be honest, I’m not fully aware of it myself. So, I suggest you see for yourself. It’s not dangerous there now, we’ve killed everyone with weapons. Go, go! Exclusive, after all!
— Vitalik, follow me! — shouted the journalist and disappeared behind the school doors. Vitalik obediently followed her.
— Where? — shouted Eira, taking a break from the interview. — Where did you send them? Are you stupid?
— What’s that got to do with me? — The dark witch waved her hands. — I was trying to keep them away. They wanted an exclusive! And I’m wounded, after all. I’m not going to run after them.
And at that moment, wild screams came from the school again.
— You’re hurt in the head, you idiot! — Eira spat.
— Take my boy to me! — Tamura shouted and added quietly: — Please.
Chapter 4
Tamura opened her eyes and saw a white ceiling, with various utilities running across its surface in a complex, intricate pattern. She wiggled her eyes from side to side for half a minute and licked her dry lips.
— It doesn’t seem to hurt,» she whispered. Then she lifted the edge of the sheet and looked at her body. Carefully she pulled off her hospital panties and tossed them on the windowsill. On the rack by the door hung a white medical gown, which the black witch immediately threw on.
— Mitsu,» she called to the spider, which appeared out of her ear a moment later, «give me a quick kiss. — The spider touched Tamura’s cheek with its jaws. — Make mommy a nice full-body stocking,» she said, and the spider disappeared behind the collar of her robe. And the black witch put on her hospital slippers and left the room.
She took the elevator down to the second floor and went from the hospital to Coven through a transitional glass corridor. Here she waited for the elevator, which was already carrying four Special Forces fighters. The young men stretched out along the mirrored walls of the elevator.
— At ease,» the dark witch wheezed and coughed. — Does anyone have a cigarette? — She raised her head hopefully to look into the faces of the guys two heads taller than her. — I see. Nobody smokes. Weren’t you guys at the assault yesterday? — She looked at the lowest of them, so as not to raise her head too much. He nodded. — Where did they put the old priest? — She asked.
— He’s in the interrogation room now. He’s waiting for the investigator,» came a nasally voice from behind her.
— Seven hundred and fourteen?
— Seven hundred and nineteen! They’ve started renovations in the seven hundred and fourteenth.
— Grand merci,» Tamura gave a shallow curtsy and looked at the floor indicator. It was moving to the number seven. — Please press seven,» she added. The elevator stopped. The witch got out and headed down the corridor.
— Hello, Grandpa! — Tamura opened the glass door of the cell, entered to the detained priest. — How are you? Alive?
The old man sat at the table and mumbled something inaudible under his nose. When he saw her, he jerked toward her, but his hands, chained to the table legs, only rattled his handcuffs, restricting his movement.
— You hells, you can’t change anything,» the old man said. He sat down again, resting his temple on the fist of his elbowed hand.
— Change what? — Tamura asked, taking a seat across from him. — I realize you’ll answer «nothing,» and I’ll be unsatisfied with that play on words and ask you, «what do you mean?» And you’ll turn on the religious sacred fool again and repeat the «nothing» answer. But all this verbiage is clearly not going to satisfy me or you. So let’s skip the guesswork and get straight to the clear readings. So, something is clearly threatening something. Right? Now let’s replace pronouns with nouns together, shall we? — she looked to the side and whispered,» Is that how I still remember that?
The old man looked in horror at Tamura’s knee, which was rather quickly being covered by a black stocking.
— To a witch, a witch’s witch! — shouted the old man.
— How hard is it with you? Well, what kind of witch am I, eh? Do I have snakes for hair? Well, look, just an ordinary nurse. There’s your robe. Where do you see a witch? I don’t burn people alive, I don’t pretend to be young. I certainly don’t have spiders coming out of my mouth! Oh, you mean this? — she caught his eye on her ankles. — It’s self-woven liquid tights. Haven’t you seen the commercials on TV? Well, look, grandpa, I’m totally open with you. You should share it with me. I’m not your enemy. I might be your sister. Open up, huh? — she took his hand and pressed it against her chest. — Let me start, okay? «Something» is the first pronoun we’ll replace with a noun. This is the messiah you mentioned in the basement, right?
— You’ve got a tick crawling all over you. — The old man pointed his finger at the girl’s ankle.
— This place is long overdue for disinfestation. — Tamura looked around the room defiantly. — But extermination costs money, and Coven spends all its money on witches. Seven Hundred and Fourteen’s gone to shit — they’re already renovating it. Don’t get distracted. What about the messiah?
— Messiah…,» the old man gave up after some hesitation. — I just wanted him to know about our sacrifice for the slaughter.
— I understood that. We’d sit on the water for ten days, like the scripture says, praying, draw public attention, and then we’d pass away, right?
— He would know about us. And that would have strengthened his faith in us. Don’t you understand that?
— He, who’s he? — There was a familiar voice from behind the commander. — Who are you talking about? Where can I find him?
— You’re on television, aren’t you? — Tamura was surprised.
— I thought I’d look here first. I had a bad feeling. I thought I wouldn’t find him here alive.
The old man lifted his head and smiled, then began to chuckle, and after a moment he laughed genuinely. Eira pulled her pistol from its holster and pointed it at the old man.
— There’s a through-and-through burst in the striker. You’re going to tell me everything now, or I’ll use your brains to write «Hallowed be thy name» on that wall!
— Why would you do that? — Tamura took Eira’s hand away from her gun. — I’m just getting into religion. Already starting to feel a spark of faith. The leaven was stirring and the grains were separating from the chaff. Opening my heart to Jesus. Hear and obey Father…» She squinted her eyes, as if remembering something, and snapped her fingers toward the priest, then turned to Eira and whispered. — Don’t. Let me talk to him some more. I’ll shoot him myself later, I promise,» she smiled sarcastically. — Don’t take it out on me.
— Righteousness is my name! — shouted the old man. — And I’m the first! There are more coming after me.
At that moment, a young girl in a white robe with a blue folder in her hand knocked on the glass door and gestured for the high witch to leave the room. Eira returned her pistol to its holster and stepped out of the cell.
— Tell me, Father, where do you get all this stuff from? — Tamura asked, peering through the glass at the girl reporting to the High Witch. At that moment, Ruta joined the women, taking the blue folder from the girl, opening it and beginning to study it.
— He’s talking to me! — The old man replied pathosily. — He sent me into the world, marking me with the sign of righteousness.
— Messiah?
— God! God speaks to me!
— Uh, uh… Speaks how?
— In dreams, of course! When we fall asleep, God comes to us in our dreams. That’s how he communicates with us.
— And I had my hopes up.
The cell door opened again, and Eira and Ruta entered. The High Witch approached the old man and stared defiantly into his eyes.
— They’re empty,» she said. — There’s nothing in them. Nothing at all! Not a mind, not what you call a soul. Explain to me how a paranoid schizophrenic could convince sixty mentally healthy people to commit mass suicide? — she turned to Tamura. — Yes, yes! He’s a moron! The test results are back.
— I’ve already figured it out,» Tamura replied. He communicates with the Almighty in his dreams.
— Give him to me,» Ruta squeaked.
— What do you need him for? No! We’ll cure him and let him out. And prove once again that religion is just mass bipolar.
— Give it back, please,» the light witch folded her palms, brought them to her lips and jumped on the spot. — I’ll practice whispering witches on him.
— Why him? We have other detainees.
— He has something no one else has — an alien, powerful stagnum. I’ll break him.
— No, Ruta. The decision has been made. It will be transferred today — What stagnum?
There was a gunshot, and the women turned around. The old man fell back a little from the shot, but the handcuffs kept the chair from falling over.
— I promised,» Tamura shrugged and smiled. The barrel of a Beretta was smoking in her hand.
— You idiot! — Eira gritted her teeth, groping for the empty holster on her belt.
— What’s he got there? — Ruta walked over to the dead old man and undid the top button of his shirt. — It’s a stain,» she undid the rest of the buttons.
The witches saw a white stain on the corpse’s bare chest, about twenty centimeters wide and the same height. It looked like a rider on horseback with a thin spear in his right hand.
— A knight of some sort,» said Tamura.
— Don’t touch it,» said Eira. — It looks like some kind of infection. Bring the spectrometer to cell six,» she added into the radio.
— He did say before he died that he was god-marked, by the way. About a sign of some kind.
— Quarantine the detained children. Sanitize the room,» Eira continued.
A gloved nurse entered the cell. The High Witch nodded toward the stain, and the nurse held the spectrometer to it. It emitted a confirmation beep.
— It’s been sent to the lab,» the nurse said. — They’ll have an answer in a couple minutes.
For two minutes the women stood in silence waiting for the answer. Because of this awkwardness, the witches were a little nervous and tried not to meet their eyes. Only Tamura smiled broadly, admiring the sight.
— A witch has been born,» she commented.
— Praise Odin,» Ruta said casually.
— There’s a result! — The nurse responded to the spectrometer’s signal.
— Praise Odin! — Ruta repeated with a relieved exhale.
— It’s a mutated strain of bubonic skin plague,» said the lab technician.
The witches looked at each other dumbfounded and rushed for the exit.
— Wait,» the nurse shouted. — The strain is not contagious.
— I’ll be praising Odin until tonight,» Ruta said, stopping. — Are you sure it’s not contagious?
— Give me that! — Eira snatched the spectrometer out of the lab technician’s hands and looked at the monitor. — «The strain is not contagious because it’s completely dead. No colony-forming organisms of the plague bacillus were found.
— So you’re saying the plague was waiting somewhere for a sick in the head old man to jump on him, draw a knight on his chest, and die? — Tamura asked.
— Girls, it’s a message! — Ruta said. — It’s obvious! A drawing like that couldn’t have formed on its own.
— A message to whom? — The black witch persisted. — He was supposed to sit in the bunker for ten days and then blow it up. And who would read the message? Or would he put this sign on the school ceiling with his own ashes?
— Get on it, huh? — said Eira. — Tamurych, you’re the most logical, the most adequate, and the most expensive for the Coven. Run the connections, who you met, what kind of knight, in general, everything as you like.
— You couldn’t tell me before? Before I shot him,» she paused and added. — Today, does everyone remember?
— They do,» Eira replied. — I did another mailing. I might be a little late myself. I’m on the air. I want both of you in my office now. Call Cataleya, too
***
The phone on the High Witch’s desk was crawling with vibrations and bursting with the sounds of an incoming call.
— Aren’t you going to answer it? — Tamura asked. — A call from Pride. Could it be the Alpha himself calling?
— I don’t have anything to answer them yet,» Eira said and turned off the ringing tone. She lit a match, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a heavy puff of pink smoke. — Any idea what that was about?
— I’ll go first, may I? — Ruta asked, glancing questioningly at the dark witch.
— Of course! — she said. — The young are the way to go! You said something about an alien stagnum.
— I am the oldest of the witches,“ she began, „and I learned to see stagnum with my eyes a long time ago. Remember when I told you that every stagnum has a color? Not just one color, but a small palette. And the colors in this palette vibrate, passing from one shade to another, with some impermanent frequency. The desires and intentions of man and society are impermanent, and so the vibration appears. The vector of influence on reality also jumps around a bit, like the arrow of a compass. And all this is within the yellow and orange color. Because everyone has the same desires and fears. Everyone wants power, luxury, love, health and not to die of radiation sickness. Even radical religious fanatics don’t have much difference in the color of their stagnum structure. Because we’re all human. We share the same physiology of quantum thinking. As a species. Pure anatomy. Turns out that’s not true.
— What are you saying? The old man’s stagnum isn’t orange? He’s crazy! What kind of stagnum would a crazy person have?
— It’s very strong. And it’s black. Yes, yes! It’s black like a space howler. And the best part is, it’s not his stagnum. It’s like someone temporarily gave the old man a new, hitherto unknown, black stagnum.
— Is that possible? — The High Witch asked. — So he came into contact with a person whose stagnum enriched his own? The messiah?
— I don’t know. But it would seem so.
— The origin of the plague knight on the chest of the deceased is an artifact of exposure to an alien stagnum,» the dark witch commented. — Hmmm… that explains it quite well. Shall we turn to the blind witches?
— You will,» the commander confirmed. — I need this messiah. Alive, if possible. And he’s your passenger now. I understand that the temptation to kill him on the spot you have above the regulations of operative-search activity. But I think the word «national security» still means something to you. — She turned to Ruta. — Want to guess?
— No!
— Wow! Why so strict? — Tamura asked.
— I don’t cast futhark anymore.
— Why not?
— Because the last few times I’ve thrown it, it’s been falling like a copycat — the same every time. And every time, it shows the exodus.
— The Jews out of Egypt? — Tamura asked.
— My exodus. I don’t know how to interpret it. All I know is that it is not death. The runes refused to tell me anything else. Exodus, every time.
— Maybe you broke them.
— Would you stop sneering? — Eira interrupted the dark witch. — What do you think?
— Can I keep Thomas? — Tamura asked cautiously.
— What?
— We have Thomas running on the Coven servers. Nobody uses it anyway. Can I keep him?
— Thomas? You mean Coven’s voice assistant? It’s available online to any witch at any time. What’s wrong with it? And why are you going off topic?
— I’d tweak it a bit, customize it, add a backup structure, hot backup on cloud clusters.
— Aren’t you living a little too frugally, Major Hogan? Do you remember how much that animated face tattoo cost Coven?
— I did it with Katelea. I never would have gotten it myself.
— Don’t blame it all on me,» said the extremely beautiful woman sitting in the corner, waving her comb. — My animation is kopechechnaya and changes only the makeup. And yours — with a full-fledged animation on the whole face. And it costs like a cast-iron bridge.
— Come on, animation! — Eira continued. — And the smart metal exoskeleton? And portable batteries with a thousand and a half amperes? When you charge them, there’s a power outage within a ten-kilometer radius. Now you want a personal server with an institutional neural network, and tomorrow what? A space spy satellite with remote DNA sensors?
— Why, do we already have one of those?
— No way! If you don’t like the voice assistant, bring it to the committee. This meeting’s over. I still have to prepare a report for Pride and go on the air.
At that moment the front door opened and a tall, thin old woman in a black cloak and a purple hood on her head appeared in the doorway.
— Dropped from the accounts,“ she sang in a tinkling yet velvety voice. Then, leaning on a gnarled staff, she slowly waddled to an empty chair and pulled it out with a club, „No longer needed, huh? — she asked, sitting down.
— Calm down, Snot! — Eira replied. — You are the wisest of witches. You are the wisest of witches. We only call you for important matters. We pity you. You’re in poor health. You’re not a girl anymore.
— Aha! Old, huh? — She slowly turned to the light witch and extended her hand. A shaking charred finger appeared from under her sleeve. — I’m no older than that bitch.
— Get your damn finger away from me, you old bitch! — Ruta screamed and jumped on the table. She grabbed her chair by the back and threw it at the old woman. — Why aren’t you dead?!
Rune tried to dodge, but failed. She was caught by the chair leg and fell to the floor with it. The light witch took short strides across the table and jumped on the old woman, clamping her throat with her knee and stepping on her toe with the heel of her other foot.
— Give me the knife! — She shouted and reached back toward Tamura. — I’m going to cut off that damn toe and send her into retirement!
— It’s so funny to watch what you do,“ the dark witch replied with a wide grin. — „You’re like Joseph Barbera and William Hanna. I’d give a knife, honestly. But I’m only wearing a robe.
Ruta snorted and lifted herself off Snooty’s head. At that moment, Cataleya stopped brushing her thick red hair, walked over to the old woman and helped her up. The old woman groaned defiantly.
— Just don’t overplay it,“ the red-haired witch whispered in Snyti’s ear. — Otherwise, my patience is not infinite. — Then she turned to the others: „We’ve got to find out how the crazy old man got so many weapons and explosives, I think.
— Thanks, Cap. We can’t close business without you,» Tamura said. — I’m going to breakfast! Who’s with me?
— I’ll keep you company,» Ruta snorted.
***
The girls were sitting across from each other at Coven’s cafeteria table, eating sandwiches and drinking hot coffee.
— Come on, tell me, who’s the new guy? — Tamura asked.
— Why a man? — Ruta furrowed her eyebrows. — A guy, twenty-eight years old, an artist with a fine mental organization, a creative person — is he a man?
— I’m sorry, I’m sorry. In the concept of «man» I put a set of positive male qualities, not synonyms «rude dork» and «uncouth stump».
— Come on, Tamurach, don’t worry, I’m just kidding. His name is Vincent. And he’s really nice. And we’re in love!
— Does that mean you won’t kill him?
— I won’t even hurt him. I’ll let him go in peace. Maybe I’ll marry him.
— Are you out of your mind, you old witch? What’s the age difference between you and him? Seventy years? Does he even know how old you are?
— Oh, don’t be jealous! I told him I’m twenty-four. He doesn’t really believe it and thinks I’m flirting, but he loves me with all his heart. — She took her cell phone out of her belt pouch and showed a picture of a young man.
— He’s cute,» Tamura agreed. — Have you forgotten how to love?
— I haven’t had such a poetic high in ages! My hormone glands are just gushing. I’m peeing a cocktail of oxytocin, dopamine, and norepinephrine. I get heart palpitations just thinking about him. And I’ve never written so much poetry about anyone before. I’ll definitely publish a collection of poems dedicated to Vincent. The rhymes just fall into place. It’s the best thing that’s happened to me lately.
— That’s awesome! I envy the white witch with white envy! You know I’m a fan. I collect everything you drop. And I’ll be the first one to read it. And I’ve even tried my hand at writing, looking at you.
— Yeah, okay. Can I see it?
— Promise me you won’t be sarcastic and make fun of me.
— Sure. — Ruta ran her palm over her face, smoothing out the wrinkles. — I’m the serious one.
Tamura crumpled a little, pulled out her phone, looked for something, and started reading:
— The verse is called: «To You.»
— Romantic! Mmmm… And not once clichéd. Keep going,» the moon witch commented, taking a bite of her sandwich.
— «I love you so much, and my love is so classy, but I can’t bear to live within my means, so I’m moving in with you.
Ruta lasted two seconds and burst into laughter through her nose as her mouth was full of sandwich. The snorting laughter immediately elicited a reaction from the rest of the café’s customers, who first took notice and then squeamishly turned away.
— You promised! — Tamura shouted. — That’s it! The fence is down! — A pattern of horizontal bars appeared on her face and immediately covered her face. She tried to fumble for the hilt of her sword behind her back, but after a futile attempt, she faked raising it and asked calmly: — What’s wrong? The rhymes are wrong, or the sensuality is lacking?
— Well, let’s talk about rhymes first. Although form is not the most important thing in poems, but since you started about rhymes, let’s talk about rhymes. They’re pretty simple.
— They’re not precise, are they?
— Exact rhymes are: you-will-forget, self-you, gone. And exact rhymes have long been equated with primitive rhymes. One of the founding fathers of Russian poetry once ridiculed primitive rhymes:
«The frost is already in full swing
And the fields are silvery
The reader is waiting for the rhyme «rose».
Here, take it!
— And since then there have been assonance rhymes, multisyllabic rhymes, dissonant rhymes.
— What’s wrong with simple rhymes? — The black witch asked, shoveling noodles into her mouth with a fork from a paper bag of hieroglyphics.
— Well, here’s a look. — Ruta picked up a cube of raffinade from the tea saucer and showed it to Tamura. — This is the simplest sweet form capable of producing primitive organoleptic pleasure in humans and living things.
— Yes, I know. Sugar is a quick carbohydrate that can immediately raise the body’s energy level and partially satiate the body. That’s why our receptors like it.
— Yeah, but that’s not what I’m saying. Give a kid sugar, next time he’ll give his hand for it. Then dilute the sugar with fruit or berries, and the taste of sugar is filled with flavors, sourness, and the sensation plays out in a new way. Continue culinary experiments, add cream, coffee, cocoa, various synthetic components, and a person will never eat pure sugar. Because it’s too easy. It’s the same with poetry. If you do not develop, do not try to seek new aesthetic orgasms from rhymes and forms, you can be satisfied with sugar all your life. That’s how graphomania breeds. And the saddest thing is that no one remembers real poetry now, because they haven’t eaten anything but sugar for a hundred years.
— Great! — Tamura looked at her hand. Her palm was covered in a black, barely transparent, mesh. — Only I don’t get it, what’s wrong with my poem?
— Don’t worry, Tamura. I’ve seen a million graphomaniacal poems, but none of them made me smile, let alone laugh. That’s worth something! You have no lyrical spark, but sarcasm sparks from every pore. All right. (chuckles) What are you doing?
— Mitsu’s gonna get me a fresh new suit of armor, and I’m gonna go to the armory. I’m gonna put on my battle gear. I got some shurikens from the stab lab to try out, with built-in controllers. It’s an old order of mine. I drew the schematics for the lab myself.
— Ninja throwing stars? I’m surprised you didn’t have them before.
— I did, but they were just ordinary ones. I didn’t use them much. That’s because they run out so fast.
— What are these like? Do they find their own targets?
— Nope! They can come back. The main controller is on my belt. Scatter the shurikens, press the button, and they respond to the directional electromagnetic selective beam. They burst out of the soft tissue and fly to my belt, where they’re powered by the main battery and ready to throw again. The main thing is not to throw them into trees — only to pull them out by hand.
— You’re the head, Tamurych! The Ilon Musk of our time! Don’t you think you’re doing the wrong thing?
— I’m doing what I like to do.
— No! You clearly don’t have enough room to realize your creative potential here. Maybe you should put on a scientist’s robe. With your guidance and personal involvement, we could conquer the radiation and repopulate the planet. Maybe even conquer a couple more planets.
— I’ve already thought about it. I’m fine here. Besides, I don’t believe in the idea of universal happiness. And I’m certainly not meant for the common good.
— What are you meant for, Tamurach?
— I don’t know yet,» the dark witch shrugged her shoulders. — But I have a strong feeling that everything I do is right. Listen, what kind of outcome did you prophesize for yourself?
— It’s not an outcome. It’s more of an escape. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m just gonna disappear. And no age jokes,» Ruta tugged at Tamura’s robe sleeve, cutting off her smirk.
Smiling silently, Tamura winked at the blonde witch, clicked her tongue, and walked over to the food stand.
— Do you have any beer? — she asked, and, seeing the seller’s nod of approval, she asked: — How many in a pack? Six? Give me two packs.
She took both packs by the cardboard handles and left the food hall.
Tamura then took the elevator down to the armory and went to the individual compartment where her personal ammunition was stored. She placed the beer packs on the nightstand, removed her medical gown and put on a tight jumpsuit with various compartments and pockets over her finished black cobwebbed fine mesh. She placed two small Japanese kiridashi knives in the elbow loops, slipped two more kiridashi, already with displays on the handles, into the narrow pockets of her tight black carbon fiber boots and strapped on a back scabbard with a magnetic grip. Then she pulled a folded exoskeleton made up of strands of smart metal out of its case and leaned it against her neck just above her back. The exoskeleton immediately responded by extending its threads down her back, arms, and legs, remotely replicating the structure of a network of large blood vessels. At that moment, the red indicator on her belt lit up in the form of a horizontal strip of light, where the dark witch immediately attached the battery pack. The exoskeleton beeped approvingly and attracted to the main muscles of the mistress, strengthening and accelerating them several times.
Then Tamura pulled her katana out of the sharpening case and slung it over her back, the katana magnetized to the scabbard obediently. She strapped a double holster with pistols on each side to her belt and put on her goggles.
— Coven’s voice-assistance system welcomes you, Major Hogan,» the headset said, and a translucent splash screen of central control appeared on the goggles’ displays.
— Hello, Thomas.
— The temperature outside is nineteen degrees Celsius. Cloudy, no precipitation. Radiation levels are within normal limits. Do you have any instructions?
— No, Thomas. No,» replied the witch. — Hold on, Thomas.
— Yes, Major Hogan.
— Are you afraid of something, Thomas?
— I’m sorry, Major Hogan. The voice assistant doesn’t have the scripts to handle such deep feelings. Is there anything else I can do for you?
— No, Thomas. Stand down,» Tamura said, taking her beer, leaving the armory and heading for the receptionist.
— Major Hogan,“ she said to the witch, „I have an order for you. Fourteen pieces. Shurikens, I believe. — The receptionist picked up a plastic container containing fourteen four-pointed stars the size of a woman’s palm. Tamura took one out, examined it closely on both sides, and said:
— Do you know my home address? Send them there. All fourteen of them! I’ll count them! — And looking at the receptionist’s frightened face, she added: — I’m kidding. I can’t count. By the way, can I have a company bike? Mine’s a long way from here, and it’s not on autopilot. It won’t come by itself.
— Yeah, here’s the remote,» the receptionist pulled the handle of a pull-out shelf on the wall, pulled out a small keychain, and handed it to the witch. — A minute before you want to use the bike, press this button and it will come right to the remote.
— Grand merci,» Tamura smiled. — Can I make another order? I’d like a new pair of glasses. Model RS14. They should be in stock by now.
— I’ll do it. — The receptionist typed in the model. — I need an official request signed by the High Witch.
— You order and I’ll bring the request,» Tamura replied and left the armory.
A few minutes later, the dark witch knocked on the door of the IT department’s office and opened it uninvited, stepped inside and looked around: the office was a huge open room with desks around the perimeter, where the regular employees of the department worked. In the far corner of the room, an elderly IT manager sat behind glass partitions.
— Loyal priests of the great Cthulhu, the omnipresent and omnipotent god of the binary code, I bring you sacred gifts to placate you and your god!
— Hello, Major Hogan! — cheerfully greeted the witch the staff of the office, without leaving their desks.
The elderly leader came out of his office and went to the witch:
— You’re going to get us drunk,» he said with a big smile, taking both packs of beer.
— Don’t worry, Louis. You’re getting drunk without me. — She put one arm around him, giving him a friendly pat on the back, and inhaled loudly through her nostrils, closing her eyes, «I love coming here. The smell of rosin, alcohol, and thermal paste buries the pitiful remains of a shameful humanitarian in me. Why am I here? Can I ask you for some tin and solder? I’m doing some crafts at home, and unfortunately I’ve run out of the young radio amateur’s kit.
— Of course you can,» Louis answered, and after a moment he froze, closing his eyes. — It’s on me, isn’t it? Your insect.
— You’re so ignorant sometimes, Louis,» Tamura whispered and put her arms around the man’s neck. — It’s not an insect, it’s a spider. And it’s the most beautiful example of parallel evolution. When two creatures look about the same, again to a layman like you, but belong to completely different species. It’s like confusing a man with a lizard. The main difference, Louis, between a spider and an insect is the number of legs. Insects have six. And my little brother is not just a spider, but a mutated hybrid of three species of spider: spider, tick and scorpion, from each of which he has taken the best properties. The DNA of the spider and scorpion allows it to produce such sophisticated toxins that those bitten ask to be killed themselves or go mad with hallucinations. The tick and spider genes are able to sew a very thin and super strong web on my body. And the mutant only needs a small amount of warm-blooded blood as food. That’s from a tick, too. And the scorpion also gave Mitsu a gorgeous exterior, a small but still sting and claws that can easily bite through metal wire or human tendons, depending on the need. And he just sniffed you, Louie. Don’t worry. A primitive organism driven by instinct and curiosity. And it hasn’t been on you for a long time. — The witch opened her mouth, revealing a spider sitting on her tongue. — Listen, Louie, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Let’s go to your office.
Tamura entered the office first, sat down in the executive computer chair and put both feet up on the keyboard.
— Can I have a cigarette, Louis? — she asked, and without waiting for an answer, she pulled a cigarette from the packet lying carelessly on the desk.
Louis pulled a lighter from his pocket and graciously gave her a light. Tamura took a deep drag and exhaled a thin stream of smoke, which was immediately drawn into the ventilation nozzle.
— Did you get a personalized vent? — She asked, shaking off the ashes into a glass jar filled with cigarette butts and water.
— I smoke a lot. Especially lately. I can smoke three packs a day when I’m working late.
— Someday, Louis, it will kill you,» the witch said, took another deep drag, and put the cigarette out on the table. — I’ve recently learned an interesting fact, Louis,» she began, to my delight. — It turns out that you, Louis, were in charge of the voice assistant project!
— Thomas?! I was,» the man said with a smile. — Thomas had once been very popular with the staff. Thomas’s server handled several requests from witches at a time. — He sighed sadly. — Now it only tells the weather, radiation levels, and data from the Coven’s archives.
— Why isn’t the project moving forward?
— Thomas is a typical neural network whose synaptic connections have undergone all possible self-learning algorithms. Expressed in simple language, Thomas in its limited interface has reached perfection in development and does not develop further. And why is it not in demand? Because there are plenty of cloud-based voice assistants with a more developed technical architecture. Every resource on the web now has its own voice assistant. That’s what they’re using.
— I’m sorry, Louis. Listen, I was thinking. Is there any way I could customize it for me? Emotionalize it, humanize it, move it to a new server so it can evolve. I’m ready to take a very active part in this project.
— I think it’s possible. We just need to coordinate this procedure with the Coven leadership. I can make a request.
— No, don’t, Louis. I was just asking. I won’t interrupt you again. Get back to work. I’m gonna go. Can I have some tin and rosin?
Louis handed over a new pack of solder, and Tamura left the office.
Chapter 5
She pulled up to the gate of an apartment complex, got off the bike, took off her helmet and fastened it behind the seat. Then she placed the control fob in a special compartment on the dashboard, and the bike turned around and drove off on its own. The witch entered the wicket and walked towards the high-rise building.
— Batu! — She shouted, closing the door to the apartment behind her.
The young man appeared in the doorway leading to the living room.
— My boy, you’ve been waiting for me! — rejoiced the witch, taking off her boots and exoskeleton. At that moment, the sword caught on the frame of the exoskeleton, magnetized, and fell to the ceramic floor with a crash. — I can’t get used to having to unbuckle my katana before I can remove the amplifier,» Tamura smiled.
— I was brought here yesterday and told to wait. They said not to touch anything and that you would be here soon. I didn’t know what to do. So I just stood there at first, and then I got very tired and sat on the floor.
— What a nightmare! You must be very hungry?
— Yes, but I’m much more thirsty.
— What beasts! — commented the witch, tattoos of tears streaming down her face. She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.
The guy greedily started drinking, gulping loudly.
— I still have some egg tart left somewhere and some milk. Here! — she handed Bat a plastic container and a bag of milk. — There’s a dining table over there in the kitchen. Sit down and eat in peace. But don’t be in a hurry. Give me some milk too. Get some glasses from the dishwasher. Should be clean if I remembered to turn it on. I’ll go to the bathroom, take off my robe and come to you. — She smiled and disappeared out the door.
Batu ate all the cake, drank the milk and poured himself some more. At that moment Tamura appeared without her overalls. Her entire lean body was tightly encased in a thin gray bodysuit with a silvery glow. On her feet were huge teddy bear-shaped slippers.
— Do you like me? — she smiled and, without waiting for an answer from the shocked young man with milk trickling down his chin, she said: — I’ll walk like this for now. Let the cobweb breathe. She’s very young. — Then she picked up her glass with milk and held it out to Batu: -It’s my birthday today, and I am very happy.
Batu obediently held out his glass and, stammering a little, replied:
— Congratulations!
— Look,“ Tamura sipped some milk and set the glass down. — „On a related note, there will be a celebration for the occasion at a restaurant today. The female employees are invited. And you’ll wait for me here, okay? You can watch TV. I’ll come in drunk and I’ll want a little extra. And we’ll have a drink. You’re 18, right? There’s a bar over there. In the fridge, cut up some appetizers. You already know where to find the dishes. In the meantime, I’ve got two hours and I’ve got some work to do. You want to come with me?
— Can I ask you a question? — the guy was clearly crumpled.
— Of course he was.
— What do I call you?
— That’s a good question, Batou! — she thought for a few seconds. — Lucy. You can call me Lucy. That’s what they called me when I was a little girl.
— Lucy, can I ask you something else?
— Go ahead, Batou. You can do a lot of things.
— Will I be old forever?
— You’re not old, Batou. Don’t worry. Mitsu injected a toxin that caused your adrenal glands to release a massive amount of cortisol into your bloodstream. Your body reacted to the tremendous instantaneous stress accordingly. Your hair turned gray and your face showed deep expression lines. Now you looked like a grown man. — She lowered her voice and, looking away, added: — Though usually one dies from this, and it looks very spectacular. It’s like the person instantly aged and died writhing in unspeakable horror. I have a couple clips of this spectacle on my channel. — She raised her head and smiled broadly. — But you, as you can see, are alive and well! In time, the wrinkles will smooth out, and the gray hair will go away with the growth of new hair. And you’ll look like a young man with a pretty face again. — She patted his cheek.
Batu turned to the small mirror hanging on the refrigerator and ran his fingers through his wrinkles and hair. He paused for a moment, looking at himself, and then asked:
— Where did you take the people yesterday? You know, the ones who were praying in the gym.
— That’s a bad question and obviously unnecessary. Batu, my little man, in this cruel but very fragile world, you will have to survive someday without me. Please make it a rule in life that curiosity is your greatest enemy. Curiosity is sometimes worse than any religion. But I’m gonna answer you. Those who weren’t killed in a raid were executed in the Coven’s cellars. And you’re on that list, too. That’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it? And the pastor turned out to be crazy. Not only was he bipolar, he had the plague. Hiding a colony of dead bacteria under his shirt. I can get you a statement of his condition. I shot him myself. Now come on, I’ll teach you a forgotten but useful skill.
She led him into a small room, half of which was occupied by a huge table with a hinged top shelf along its length. Scattered on the table were thin wires in multicolored sheaths, a few paper packages of resistors. In the middle, closer to the wall, stood a soldering station. And in the center lay an electronic device, which was a thin ring of copper wire and a black square flat block inside it. Tamura lit the table lamp-transformer on the bracket and turned on the soldering station, on whose indicator the temperature reading began to increase rapidly until it reached the value of three hundred and ninety-eight. Then she pressed the buttons to turn on the oscilloscope and the universal power supply.
— Take that chair over there and sit next to it. — She sat down on a high computer chair, put on thin glasses with diopters, took out tin and rosin from the box and began to solder the coil wires to the contacts of the black block.
— This is the controller with the solenoid. And here is the armature of the pulse electromagnet, — she pointed to the black block. — It is tuned to a strictly defined frequency and gives out a powerful two-second magnetic pulse, attracting everything that works at the same frequency. Right there, look. See the contact? Good eyesight?
— I see it.
— Hold the soldering iron. Not by the working part, you know. Dip the tip in rosin and tin the contact. Run it while the stinger is wet. Good job. And your hands are not shaking like mine. Now grab some tin with the stinger and tin the contact. You’re doing a good job. Now do the same with this wire. That’s good. Now, use a clothespin to connect the wire to the contact and hold it in place for a second with the tin. Holy cardiologists! You have a gift!
— Did you get it? — The kid’s eyes are glistening.
— Let’s check it out. Go get the box, it’s on the table in the hallway.
— Now,» Batu jumped off the chair and a moment later was holding the box in his hand, shaking it up and down. — It’s heavy.
— Well, unpack it quickly!
He opened the package and pulled out a black starfish, rotating it in his hand and examining it.
— The body was made of a self-sharpening composite alloy, and inside was the same electromagnet, only miniaturized. About the size of a dime. The beams are weighted. Activate it, here’s the jumper. Put it on the table. Now we connect the minus to the trap. — She’s connected the black wire to the block terminal. — And the plus side, we’ll just tap the contact. — The sprocket on the table snapped off and immediately magnetized itself to the block platform. And the whole structure was thrown off the table with force. — Not bad?!
— It’s still on it,» said Batu, picking up the sprocket block and trying to tear it off.
— Yes, we need to adjust the resting position. We’ll apply short, weak electromagnetic radiation so that the sprockets just hold onto the block and can be easily ripped off. — Tamura knitted a thin long screwdriver and turned the slot of the tuning resistor through the narrow hole. — And since they would be stacked there, each sprocket would duplicate the induction to the next sprocket. Now let’s solder the button.
The witch closed the block with the lid and began to screw the screws around the perimeter of the platform. And, not having tightened the last three, she looked around the table for the missing ones. Then she turned over an iron coffee can and shook out the contents. There she began tweezing through the various nuts, springs, and screws looking for the right size.
— All right! — she gave up. — No more screws. I’ll have to go to Luis’ tomorrow. — Then the witch put on her battle suit belt and fastened the grip block to it with a leather clasp. She pulled the remaining stars out of the box and turned to the boy: «Put them in different places around the room. Let’s see how they all fly.
Batu took the shurikens and carefully placed them around the room. The witch stood in the center of the room, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled sharply and pressed a button. In the same second, all of the stars promptly tore towards Tamura. Three of them didn’t quite make a clear shot, but still hit the capture platform. The rest of the shurikens struck the witch’s body from different directions and knocked her to the floor. Tamura cried out in pain and turned around sharply. The remaining stars slid down her body and were safely magnetized to the block.
— Oh, come on! — she shouted. — I’ve just been stitched up!
Batu stood motionless nearby, watching the witch writhing in pain.
— Can I help you? — he asked suddenly.
— The cigarettes are in the kitchen, in a sugar can over the stove,» Tamura replied, taking off her shuriken belt and lying on her back. — Light one, please.
Batu held out a lit cigarette. The witch took a deep drag and began groping herself.
— Looks like all the ribs are intact. — It’s all down below. Stomach and flanks are bruised. Spider armor saved me from being torn and wounded. Why didn’t I anticipate the trajectory? They fly in a straight line. Good thing I didn’t get hit in the head! And they were just lying there, so they didn’t have time to build up momentum. What if they’d been stuck somewhere? Yeah. I should put a copper loop around my waist with reverse polarity around the perimeter. So they’d go around me. I’m gonna throw them on the run. Why didn’t life teach me that? I think six reels will be enough. I wish I had more and more often, but I don’t have that many. How much time do we have, Batou?
— A little over an hour.
— We’ll make it! — shouted the witch, jumped to her feet, pulled a shelf out of the nightstand and turned it over on the table. She selected a few coils from the contents, soldered them in series and attached them to her belt with nylon ties. She soldered the remaining ends to the contacts of the electromagnet armature.
— You solder well and quickly,» said Batu, watching Tamura’s skillful work. — You must be an engineer by training?
— Come here,» the witch said and put the belt on the boy. He opened his mouth and blinked his eyes.
— Don’t piss! I’ve got it all worked out! The coils will work in counter-phase with the anchor and create a scattered electromagnetic field. While the anchor will attract the shurikens, the belt will repel them. The sprockets will fly in a circle without touching you.
— But there are only four coils! And you said you needed six!
— That should be enough. If you need anything, I’ll call CPR. You’re supposed to be in a black bag in the basement of the morgue right now. I’m the one who saved you. So don’t worry about it. I saved you yesterday, and I’ll save you now. Come on, breathe deep or you’re gonna pass out.
The witch quickly took the stars and deftly scattered them around the room. The shurikens easily penetrated any surface and stuck deeply into doors, window frames, furniture, and walls. Batu shouted something, squatted down and covered his head with his hands. Tamura pressed the controller button with the big toe of her right foot and jumped back sharply into the corner of the room. The shurikens reacted instantly, bursting out of the surfaces and rushing towards the electromagnet, circling Batu. Immediately, a series of clicks were heard — the controller had successfully magnetized all fourteen stars.
— Beaver, exhale! — said the witch. — It worked out even better than I thought. Would you like a cigarette?
Batu uncurled and fell back on his heel. He swallowed and cried. His hands were shaking feverishly. He took a cigarette, took a drag and coughed.
— Let me go, please,» he whimpered.
— What’s the matter, kid? — The witch sat down beside him and began to stroke his hair. — It hurts me, and you are crying. Well, I’ll let you go. Where will you go? According to all the databases, you’re a dead terrorist. The city’s facial recognition system will identify you instantly. Then they’ll take you to the Coven and torture you. The high witch has a personal demon. He’ll burn you alive. And if he doesn’t, a pagan witch will take you in for testing. With her prophetic whispers, she’ll give you horrible hallucinations. And there is also an old woman who once soaked her hands in the river of hell Kokitos, and now they are constantly forming sores that bubble and burst, releasing into the air the virus of damnation for a particular person — on whom she will point a single finger. And the person turns into a zombie. Kills first his mom, then the rest of his family, and then himself. It’s a terrible fate. But you’re healthy, fed and almost safe with me. Look what we’re gonna do. We will find me an evening dress, you will help me tidy up: comb my hair, choose a hairpin, pick up a manicure, put in a cab and wait. At night I’ll arrive drunk, you’ll undress me and give me a massage. You’ll caress my legs, my back, my shoulders. And in the morning we’ll decide what to do with you. Okay? — Tamura bit down on part of her lower lip, and the tattoo on the witch’s face took the shape of dripping tears again. — Please!
Batu closed his eyes and nodded his head.
Chapter 6
— Eighty years ago, World War III began and ended, in the first eight minutes of which ninety percent of the world’s population was wiped out,“ Andrei Bal, host of one of the most popular evening shows, began his opening speech… „Almost ninety percent of the landmass will never be habitable due to deadly radiation. The water in the oceans is contaminated and the fish are dead. The remaining humans are forced to take radiation blockers for the rest of their lives. Many will no longer be able to have children. What led to the worst war in human history, and what are the consequences of this war — let’s find out today in «Here and Now» on the federal TV channel. We have with us the Vice Chancellor of Central State University, Professor Michael Sulu and the commander of the special unit «Witches Coven» Eira Lauda.
The cameras briefly froze on the faces of the guests and once again took a close-up of Andrei. The host continued.
— Mr. Sulu, let’s start with you. Remind us all about the background to the disaster eighty years ago.
— Hello! — the Vice-Rector began quite confidently. — I propose to start with a small excursion into the basics of physics to understand the causes of this tragedy. In the middle of the last century, scientists made a number of significant discoveries in the field of quantum mechanics. They discovered and studied such phenomena of the microcosm as quantum superposition, when a particle exists simultaneously in several antiphase states, quantum teleportation — instantaneous information transfer, and wave function collapse, when a force energy field collapses into a particle when it is detected. These strange phenomena have been repeatedly recorded, but no convincing explanation for these phenomena has ever been found. There were many theories and interpretations, some of which turned out to be flawed, others unrealistically fantastic. One of such delusional, at that time, interpretations turned out to be flawless from the point of view of logic. This is Everett’s many-worlds theory. In a nutshell: any outcome of events in the microcosm depends directly on the observer of these events. Fields collapse into particles, and particles move from one state to another under the influence of the will of the observer. And quantum teleportation is nothing but the connection of each particle with the entire universe. This theory was proved almost seventy years later, — he paused and looked around the audience. — I see that I have already bored you with physics, so I will tell you in simple words. The consciousness of the observer influences the world around him. We are observers and, at the same time, creators. The process of observing a process directly affects the process itself. Pardon the tautology. The psychological state of the observer is taken into account. Our desires, aspirations, fears, experiences are the only set of factors influencing the world and determining the whole universe. — The professor took a sip of water from the glass. — But at that moment nobody knew how exactly to influence reality with consciousness and change the course of events. A series of experiments on working out the correct model of consciousness behavior to influence a single particle began. But exactly everyone understood that the fundamental factor was true belief and will. And the factor negatively affecting the results of the experiment was doubt. But how do you make the mind believe and the mind not doubt? The brain is not a machine. You can’t write a program for it.
— So, what we want is what we get? — smiled the host. — The main thing is to want it right?
— Approximate wording. «The main thing is to want it right. After all, if everything we want was fulfilled, the world would cease to exist instantly. Can you imagine how many wishes would be realized in the first second of such a model?
— Everyone would want different things, and sooner or later there would be a conflict of desires.
— That’s right! There would be chaos. The laws of physics would go crazy and matter would disintegrate into atoms. That’s why it’s inaccessible and impossible for us.
— Inaccessible by whom? Is it forbidden?
— You are walking on the edge of the duality of perception of the universe, Mr. Host. — The professor smiled broadly. — We believe that the absence of such a model of the world, where the Universe would materialize any desire of a reasonable being, is conditioned by the anthropic principle: «We see the Universe so, because only in such a Universe an observer could arise»
— Otherwise it simply wouldn’t exist.
— Otherwise it simply does not exist here and now,» corrected the professor and continued. — Our consciousness functions continuously even in sleep and interacts with the surrounding world on a very subtle level. But extraneous thoughts, images and emotions prevent us from forming a clear desire. Besides, our desires often change and what was necessary today is not so important tomorrow. And numerous doubts are always present in the mind. It is impossible to get rid of them, no matter how much we want to. There is almost never a state of pure consciousness, without doubts at all. It is like the sky: some people have clouds, some people have enlightenments, and some people are completely covered with clouds. But there is no perfectly clear consciousness.
— So how are wishes meant to come true? And what kind of wishes?
— That’s a very good question! The wish itself does not disturb the physical picture of the world in almost any way. Just a slight ripple on the water. Therefore, the main driving force in the universe is not desire at all!
— Intention!
— That’s right! The magical power of intention. A man is sitting at a table and he has the urge to smoke. What happens?
— Nothing.
— Nothing! But when the desire to smoke grows into intention, the mystery of creation takes place. A man’s hands reach for a cigarette and matches. And, lo and behold! The wish has come true. Intention is the only driving force in the universe! And it’s not limited by anything! But you have to give credit to the fact that without a wish, nothing could have been accomplished.
— What research has been and is being done on these, shall we say, semi-abstract concepts?
— It took us fifteen years to somehow designate the direction of this research, and only then did all subsequent experiments begin to yield positive results. We studied the influence of thought processes on quantum fields in thousands of subjects. And we found certain patterns. And it was a breakthrough in science no less than the emergence of language in homo sapiens. Unfortunately, it also brought great misfortune. When the information was publicly released, society suddenly realized what a mistake we had made. We had opened Pandora’s box. If you believe in something and do not doubt your choice, it will definitely come true. And the strongest factor for such belief was religion, which immediately declared all our work to be the work of dark forces. After all, it was once considered witchcraft and was fiercely persecuted. Witches were burned! — The professor smirked at Eira. — Nevertheless, the church itself began to actively use the results of our research. It occurred to some of them that the time had come for the apocalypse described in the last book of the Bible, the Revelation of John the Evangelist.
— The end of the world, I suppose?
— Let me remind you: in this part of the new covenant, god shares with one of his prophets about his plans to destroy the world, vividly describing the preceding images — the four horsemen of the apocalypse and the terror they are sowing across the earth. I must confess that their faith has proven to be much stronger than ours, and they all believe the same thing, plus there are too many of them. They got their hands on nuclear weapons and we couldn’t help but react. No one remembers who pushed the button first. After eight minutes, it didn’t matter at all. We won. It’s hard to call it a victory, really. It was more like a Pyrrhic victory. After all, the price was nine billion human lives and a scorched planet for thousands of years to come.
— A monstrous war, one can’t deny. But we survived!
— We survived. And the only part of the earth not contaminated by radiation was Eastern Siberia. We started to build cities and roads around the only freshwater lake with huge reserves of clean drinking water. New knowledge helped us a lot in this. We believed that we would be reborn and, against all odds, a new dawn awaited civilization.
— But the war didn’t end. Its legacy lives on to this day.
— It’s not over. You know what the worst part is? No, it’s not a new war or nuclear weapons. The scariest thing is the coming of the messiah that a lot of people are talking about right now. There are still a lot of fanatics. But now they believe not in the power of bombs, but in an apocalypse from their own god. Just imagine one of them suddenly realizing himself as this messiah. Even worse, he will be born as a messiah, and will be raised as a messiah among thousands of believers in this fact. In one of the moments of spiritual practices his consciousness will become absolutely pure, without a single cloud. In that instant, man will become one with his stagnum. And any, but a single, thought that appears in his consciousness will become a command for the universe. And it won’t be a thought of peace and goodness, believe me.
— You said «become one with his stagnum.» What is that?
— Stagnum is a certain energy field of every living being. A certain interface of interaction between consciousness and the outside world. You can call it a karmic manifestation of our personality. And we continuously influence our own stagnum, whether we want it or not. It is the stagnum that realizes our desires, turning them into intentions on a subtle quantum level. At the level where the impossible turns into the improbable, the improbable into the possible, and the possible into the realizable. A level where energy comes out of nowhere and easily turns into matter. Stagnum does not openly obey us. We cannot order stagnum directly, but we can form an image of our karmic ego, pardon for pseudoscientific terms, which will nurture our stagnum, fill it with intention. And stagnum already influences the surrounding matter independently.
— And one thought from this fanatic can destroy us?
— More than that. That thought could destroy the universe. Don’t look at the scale of it. The universe is just a holographic model,» Sulu noticed the questioning look on the presenter’s face and realized that he needed to explain in more detail. — But imagine a balloon with the entire universe on its surface. Imagine that this balloon can be inflated to infinite size. As we inflate it, the universe expands. Yes, that’s a simplified view. A two-dimensional projection of our three-dimensional universe. Just as our three-dimensional universe is a projection of the four-dimensional mega-universe. So, no matter how huge it is, no matter how far it expands, it is enough to pierce this ball with a thin needle to make the universe collapse into a point. Everything around us ceases to exist down to the atoms. And the entire vast universe is as vulnerable as a microscopic particle. The distances and sizes of the interacting objects are irrelevant. It is enough to give a command to disintegrate at least such a particle as a proton, so that all the protons of the universe at once simultaneously cease to exist. Many people think that the end of the world is some kind of extravaganza. That fire rains down from the sky, plagues all around and earthquakes. No! All you have to do is take a proton and make it decay. The protons of the universe are connected to each other in an unbreakable network, just like any matter. Pfft! And there is no universe. That said, it doesn’t take much energy. Proton decay is one of the end of the world options we can explain physically. And while there are still plenty of fanatics, it only takes one believer for such a plan. But it has to be a special fanatic. But there are no such people yet, otherwise… Sami. Even if you devote your whole life to spiritual practices, you can’t achieve such a state of consciousness. Besides, I believe we have witches.
— And that’s what the High Witch of the Coven will tell us,» interrupted the professor. — Eira, what does your unit do?
— Hello, — began the guest. — Special unit «Witches of Coven» appeared more than twenty years ago. The unit consists of women and is designed solely for the destruction of fanatics, their sympathizers and all the trappings of religion.
— Why women? Sorry to interrupt, but aren’t men stronger than women?
— A man is weaker than a woman,» the witch smiled. — That’s why they will never be in my unit. And physical strength has no meaning or effect now. High technology and developed stagnum are the key to effective work.
— But men’s stagnum has always been superior to women’s. Hasn’t it? — The host didn’t give up.
— It depends on how you show it. But I can say one thing for sure. Do you know why there have never been women in religion? Why they were not taken not only as church ministers, but even as clerics? Because a woman is essentially down-to-earth and dreams of earthly goods. About the love of a real man, about children, about health for their loved ones, about financial well-being. And never worldly will not trade for an invented god. Moreover, a woman is ready to defend everything she has real! With her teeth! With her fingernails! She has no fear of a mythical character that no one has ever seen. Can you say that about a man? Michael, Andrei, haven’t any of you ever questioned the path you’ve chosen? Have you ever wondered if I’m blaspheming? Don’t we look up to the sky with questions?
— Yes… — the host interrupted the awkward pause. — Witches. Do you have any powers, or is that just an antagonistic name?
— Sophisticated stagnum! That’s what witches have in common. Is that how you use your stagnum, Andrei? — Eira asked. — Okay, I’ll answer that. You have achieved your position, you have money, you are loved by women, you are used to luxury. It’s the usual stagnum of an ordinary man with ordinary desires and strong ambitions. With such a stagnum you can achieve a lot in life. To the point of becoming an alpha in Pride. The key is to develop it properly.
— Isn’t that what they teach us at school? — smiled the host.
— It is. But a woman who chooses the path of a witch will never have anything like that. The sole purpose of my stagnum is to kill. I, for one, have a living stagnum. He talks to me. His name is Max. And he is merciless to his enemies, as he embodies all my ideas, ambitions, and hatred of bigots.
— And how does it work? — The professor couldn’t resist, obviously mocking the words about a living stagnum. — Does he tell you jokes? Do you have dinner together? Bullshit! Pure nonsense! A stagnum is stationary in essence and in name!
Eira pulled a pistol out of her duty holster, turned it around, and held it out to Michael.
— Shoot me!
— And what? — The professor didn’t move. — What will the stagnum’s reaction be? Will it stop the bullet? — Michael was clearly enjoying his joke.
— And that’s what we’re about to find out! — Eira raised her voice. — Don’t be afraid! It’s interesting.
— We’re not going to shoot anyone, — Andrei tried to defuse the situation. — Put the gun away. Tell me about your operational work. Do you kill them on the spot? I mean fanatics.
Eira looked at the professor a little more, and hid the gun in its holster.
— The little things — clerics, sympathizers — we destroy on the spot. The more important ones, the spiritual leaders, the preachers, the monks, we take them to the Coven prisons.
— Yes,“ Sulu grinned again, „the last assault ended with the fanatics being found dead with their mouths sewn shut and their severed genitals and mammary glands stuffed into them. Even a couple of journalists got caught in the act. What’s your witch’s name? Boudicca? Everyone knows that any encounter with a witch will end in either an agonizing death or a cruel curse.
— Why don’t you kill the more important ones on the spot? — interrupted the professor.
— Then they immediately become martyrs,» the witch smiled, defiantly ignoring the professor. — They died for their faith. And thus strengthen the faith of other fanatics. Rumors in this environment spread almost instantly.
— So? You just put them in jail?
— No, we release them as soon as the renunciation process is complete. It’s very effective. A person renounces his faith in public, and we show it on a special TV channel.
— But a man can be deceived by renouncing his faith!
— Who? God? — Eira lit a cigarette. — Do you mind? — She asked Andrei and took a deep drag. — If a man goes to deceit to save his own skin, then he no longer trusts his god. You can’t deny your god by pretend. The whole point of religion is to blindly believe that god will protect you from any force. And if he doesn’t, he’s accepted you into the kingdom of heaven without a trial. Either way, it’s a good thing. By denying, you doubt his power and intent.
— Was it successful? Do you have special people for this?
— So far, it’s been successful. But it’s getting harder every time,» the witch took a drag. — You know, we don’t like to talk about it. It’s a very unpleasant part of our work. To give you an example, in one of the last renunciations we had to cut children in front of their parents. Didn’t last long. The parents, of course.
— And how do you sleep afterward? — The professor asked.
— We have sarcasm on sarcasm! — Eira couldn’t stand it and defiantly exhaled smoke right in the professor’s face. — When the life of a billion people depends on you, when you are trying to save this fragile hope from the last effort, when you yourself put a cross on your personal life, then it’s not up to morality. Don’t worry, Professor. When I find you in the company of fanatics, I’ll kill you right there and fast. Let’s call it a day! — the witch threw the cigarette butt into the professor’s glass and left the studio.
Chapter 7
— Whisper,“ Eira said, taking a sip from her tall glass. — That was brilliant! I didn’t believe you could handle so many people at first. You’ve never used mass hypnosis on us before. — She turned toward the bar: „Do we need someone to refresh the alcohol, or should I call the SWAT team here?
Six women sat at a round table in the corner of a small restaurant room in the dim light of the stage spotlights. There was not a single customer in the restaurant, except for the noisy female company of the Coven, and not a single waiter. A moment later an elderly man of short stature appeared from the bar with two bottles. He bustled over to the vacationers and filled glasses and shot glasses.
— The waiters had already dispersed. I’m the only one left. Shall I leave the bottles here? — he asked coyly. — If they run out, you can choose whatever you want at the bar. — He nodded toward the bar. — I’m sorry, but I need to get home to my family, too. Call me if you need anything. — He stood for a moment until Eira gave him a generous wave of her hand, and then he jogged toward the exit.
— When you book a table for tonight, don’t tell me it’s for a coven! — said Cataleya, adjusting the napkin on Boudicca’s chest. — The restaurateur put the restaurant up for sale and all the staff quit retroactively.
— I wanted to get a small discount, not curse the entire restaurant,» Tamura replied. — I really didn’t get charged for the banquet at all.
— What about the restaurant, what about the whispering? — Eira persisted.
— Have you ever heard of the practice of whispering witches? — Ruta asked back. — Vince is coming to pick me up soon,» she said, looking at the bewildered employees who looked at her with a question in their eyes, «my boyfriend,» she said. — The Jap will tell you all about it later. — Ruta pointed her finger at Tamura. — Shall we get to the ceremonial part? I realize I’m a hero who once again saved humanity from fanatics. And I’m smarter than all of you,» she smirked quietly, «but I’m not the birthday girl. Pour it, Tamurych, why are you sitting there selling tabla?
— Do you want to laugh? — Eira stood up and raised the filled glass. — When we had already spent money on the gift, paid for the project to the hardware and software developers, and ordered the sword, Ruta suddenly shrieked, «Holy shit! She needs two katanas. She’s an ambidextrous, after all!» We all froze, and Sylvia from the tech department timidly asked: «Who’s an ambidextrous?» And the white one said, «An ambidextrous person is a person who doesn’t care which hand is holding a pipidaster.»
— Katanas? — Tamura interrupted the raucous laughter of the guests. — It was a gift, wasn’t it? — The birthday girl’s brown eyes flashed like two supernovae. — Tell me it’s a gift! They’re not just katanas, are they?
— One katana so far,» Eira replied. — Or what’s the correct word? One katana? — She pulled out from under the table a Japanese sword in a black jade scabbard with an equally black jade hilt
— Pipidastre! — Tamura held out her hands to take the gift.
— What is a pipidastre? — Boudicca suddenly perked up.
— Wait!» Eira pulled the gift away from the birthday girl. — I’ll tell you first. It’s a work of art and the quintessence of the most modern technology,» she half-bared the blade. — It’s an alloy of the usual combat polymer used for firearms strikers and an isotope of titanium. Ninety times stronger than steel! It scratches diamond, but corundum cuts like bread. Superman’s kryptonite shatters into crumbs! Self-sharpening blade!
— Great! — Tamura exclaimed in amazement, impatiently holding out her hands for the gift.
— Have patience, Major Hogan! — said the commander sternly. — This is only the beginning of the presentation of the toughest and deadliest weapon in the universe! Despite the apparent integrity of the cloth, it is composed of three hundred and seventy layers. This is the optimal number to maintain the sword’s durability and the functionality of the device as a whole. If you look closely at the center of the hilt, you will see a dark display screen that is activated,“ she quickly brought the hilt up to Tamura’s face and immediately pulled it away before the birthday girl realized what was happening, „by a biometric scanner of the user’s face! It’s a weapon that would kill God himself!
— Where’d you get the scan of my face, huh?
— In the database! Don’t distract me! The technology of the whole device resembles a standard witch’s knife, but! The blade performs continuous automatic blood sampling of victims across the entire surface of the blade, separating it by DNA types already at the stage of formation of individual protovacuum cells. The processor continuously sends queries to the database for DNA matches, automatically generating a list of murdered people in the witch cloud, labeling the time and place of the murder or wounding. Immediately after listing, blood is removed through the tip of the blade tip. If no match is found, the sample is placed in a protovacuum cell and can be stored there, uncoagulated, for eight months! When it is no longer needed, it is reset with a touch button on the display. Forty such protovacuum cells can be formed! These dots show how the cells are filling up. If the dot is red, the cell is full.
— Give me my pipidaster already! — Tamura couldn’t resist, she took the katana away and exposed the blade completely. — What a beauty! — She whispered, looking at the play of reflected light on the ornamental patterns of the gilded sword. — I never dreamed of such a thing! How much is it?
— As much as you give! — Cataleya cut in. — You know the rule.
— Of course, — enthusiastically hissed the birthday girl and pulled out of her purse an ancient gold coin. — Aztec gold! — she tossed the coin with her fingers, unwinding it, and in flight struck it with the palm of her hand, pinning it to the table.
— You knew, didn’t you, that the sword would be a gift? — Eira asked.
— I guessed. But I thought it would be a souvenir from ancient samurai Japan. And I certainly didn’t expect such a celebration! Thank you, girls! Cheers! — she raised a shot of vodka. — I love you all!
— Here’s to you, Tamurach! God grant you the health to kill believers! — shouted Ruta.
— Pun intended? — Eira sneered. — Let’s talk about practicing whispering witches.
— Okay,“ the white witch put the phone down on the table, „Vince is late anyway. Listen. If you choose a special timbre, and on the throat bifurcation whisper poetry, necessarily with dactylic rhyme, such as «God», «Sergejenka», «twig», «cell», and the endings of rhymes should be with a fading amplitude, and the rhythm is constantly breaking, not allowing the subject to get used to the tact, you can directly change the cognitive paradigm of perception of reality. Hallucinations created by the subcortex of the subject’s brain are the most harmless thing that can happen to the subject. How does it work? First, you whisper something very close or even sacred to the victim, but with an intonation for unspoken fear. «Not resurrected» and «not crucified» is immediately clear about whom, but the denial itself a priori causes a protective reaction of the brain, forcibly putting the person into an alpha state. Further all the rest of the whispering motive is visualized by a person in a dream, not realizing that he is sleeping. Does that make sense?
— A test subject? — Eira asked.
— I’d like ten people,» Ruta looked to the left and up. — I’d like to practice.
— Wouldn’t one be enough?
— That’s the thing, it wouldn’t be enough. I’ve had more than one! I want to learn how to control a person’s behavior, not drive them crazy, and I certainly don’t want to kill them. So far, all I’ve gotten is negative results! All I can do is make a crowd think something nasty. And I want to rule! We have unallocated children in foster care. It’s the easiest thing to do with kids. I promise not to kill anyone.
— Practice on Vince,» Tamura whispered, mimicking Ruth.
The young witch jumped up on the table and hissed. Tamura instantly nudged the present and took a strong swing, stopping the sword right at Ruta’s neck.
— What’s going on here? — came a stuttering male voice from behind.
The witches looked at a young man in his thirties. The guy was clearly shocked by what was happening. With shaking hands he held a small black box wrapped with a golden ribbon.
— «Left unbalanced,» Tamura said, pretending not to pay attention to the newcomer. Then she turned to the young man: «I was given a sword. Look at it,» she held it out to Vince, «isn’t it beautiful?
— We made it for your right hand,» Eira said.
— Well, I’ll work on it later,» she jabbed the blade at the box the young man had come in with. — Me?
— What’s a pipidastre? — Boudicca was already getting nervous.
— That’s why a right-handed sword should be balanced to the left hand? — Eira persisted.
— What if my right hand gets chopped off! I’ll throw the katana on the mezzanine, right? Let it gather dust, huh? — Tamura turned to the boy again: «So it’s for me?
— Yes, yt… For you,» he replied.
— My boy was hiccupped to the point of hiccups. — The white witch came from behind to the boy, hugged him and kissed his neck, -Hello, kitty. Don’t pay attention to the elderly idiots,“ she took the boy’s hand and turned to the people sitting there, „this is Vince, my young man. Vince is an artist. He draws the subjects of famous works with a simple pencil.
— Give me the present, Vince,» Tamura used her blade to hook the loop of the gold bow on the black box. — What do we have here? — She quickly untied the knot, opened the box, and pulled out a glass flask, sealed on both sides. In the flask lay motionless a huge insect with glossy straight folded wings and long whiskers. — Is it what I think it is?
— It’s a Krasnoyarsk cockroach,» Vince answered. — From the infested borderlands. He’s in anabiosis. Or a she. I don’t know, to be honest. All I know is that you break off the tip and let air in. The cockroach will come back to life. There’s a special cut in the glass. That’s what the store said. Are you a collector?
— Well, as a collector? — Tamura smiled, shook the cockroach onto the table and pulled off the glove on her left hand. — This is for Mitsu!
Boudicca looked at the cockroach and began to howl.
— «We’re going to go, out on the balcony for a smoke,» said Cataleya, picking Boudicca up under her armpits. — I’ll tell you what a pipidastrum is. — The witches got up from the table and slowly moved outside.
— I’ve seen so many gruesome deaths, but I can’t bear to look at such things,» Snyt commented and turned away defiantly.
The cockroach fell on his back and began to slowly wiggle his mustache. Then he jumped up, quickly oriented himself and ran to the edge of the table, where a model-looking girl with red hair was sitting. A spider immediately jumped out of Tamura’s sleeve and caught up with the cockroach in no time. It jumped on his back and began to knit a web around the fugitive. After a couple of moments, the cockroach gave up. The spider turned it over, climbed onto its belly, and looked at Vince for a moment.
— Thank you,» the birthday girl whispered, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand.
The spider slowly pushed its sting into the cockroach’s abdomen, piercing its web and the soft fabric of the insect’s shell. In pain, the cockroach let out a thin squeak, which changed to a wheeze after a second, and then simply subsided.
— Every breath shall praise the one-eyed man! — The white witch whispered quickly.
— That spider, does it live in you? — Vince looked clearly confused, not expecting this outcome.
— Well, what kind of spider is it? — Tamura said affectionately, stroking the furry back of Mitsu’s meal. — It’s a harmless spider. He’s just a little boy. And cockroaches from the eastern infested territories are his favorite treat. — The spider finished sucking the liquid out of the dried and gaunt cockroach and hopped onto the back of her hand, then ran down her outer garment to the birthday girl’s face and sniffed at her nostril.
— Vince, kitty, let’s get out of here. See, aunts are crazy,» Ruta took the boy’s hand and pulled him toward the exit. — Bye, girls! — she said without turning around.
— We’ll go too,» said Cataleya, who had returned from the balcony. — We have work tomorrow. Thanks for the alcohol and the food. And here, I made you something too,» she pulled a metal dragonfly with mesh wings out of her purse. — It’s for evil eye and curses. You wear it on your belt.
— Red, you took it off the corpse, didn’t you? — Tamura asked as she put it on her belt.
— The owner is dead, but he’s not cursed. And as you know, death cleanses amulets. Besides, I know you like that kind of thing.
— Nice girls,» Eira said, finishing her champagne.
— I don’t know,» Tamura replied. — They’re boring. Predictable. Ruta’s cool. And Cataleya… Except for the amulets. She gave Ruta an arrow of love for her last birthday. Lucky her.
— Yeah, lucky. She’s so lucky. As long as I’ve worked with her, I’ve never seen her like this. What happened to her last boyfriend?
— When she was explaining the rhymes, she mentioned Seryozhenka for a reason.
Eira opened her eyes wide, showing a look of surprise bordering on shock.
— Uh-huh,» Tamura nodded. — She had a boy about thirty-five years old. He was macho, and they started dating. And then he began to impose his will on her. A man, he said, and you’re a green teenager. The man said it, the man did it. She found an infusion system somewhere in the lab, tied Seryozhenka to a chair with pantyhose, gagged him with a teddy bear and stuck the donor needle of the drip directly into his brain. She put the other needle in a vein on his elbow. Then she climbed on top of him and started fucking him. And when he came, she pumped all the orgasm hormones into herself with an infusion pump. He’s in a pre-stroke state and she gets a double buzz. And she did it for a week until he went cuckoo. She whispered a poem to him every time. I’ll find it, I had it somewhere,» she pulled out her phone, «listen:
my Sergei
liquid wax
empty eye sockets
I’ll fill them
and two candles
as they do in church
to make it look like eyes
♪ but they’re false ♪
♪ and there’s a waxen tear running ♪
♪ and in my soul ♪
black god
gently
♪ with a dessert spoon ♪
♪ eats my heart out ♪
♪ under the still warm skin ♪
carefully
so as not to eat you at once.
my Seryozhnya
took the devils to the autobahn.
— Oh, come on! — Eira stretched out. — I thought you were the sick one. But something like that! You wouldn’t dream of it. It’s so creepy! The verse, by the way, is no less creepy. It’s also the most prophetic! Let’s toast her,» she topped up the glasses with champagne.
— Let’s toast Mitsu. He’s part of me, after all.
— By the way, you never said anything about your spider. Where’d you get it?
— Nobody believes me. That’s why I don’t.
— Will you tell me?
— Okay, listen. I had an older sister named Linda. Arachnophile. Had a wild fascination with all members of the arthropod family. Raised and bred them. Over 60 specimens in her collection. And she loved to touch them. And even more loved it when they climbed on her naked body. She got goosebumps and moaned when spiders bit her. Most of them were highly poisonous, and her body eventually developed an antidote. Her parents didn’t share her sophisticated hobby, but they didn’t forbid it either. But Linda loved her little sister more than spiders. She was crazy about me. Said she’d never leave me alone and would take care of me till the end of time. But one day she did. She was already fourteen, and her boy asked her out. And I was nine. She put me on a bus and sent me home. There was a fanatic on the bus with an explosive device, which he detonated when the bus was barely away from the stop. I was badly burned and one piece of shrapnel went through my heart. They put me back together piece by piece, but they couldn’t save my heart. Anyway, I needed a baby heart with a high coincidence factor. I didn’t see Linda in pain at the time, but I know what she did. Landed a female hermit spider, the most venomous spider of the new world, on her and it bit her. There was no antidote for it in her system, and an hour later Linda was found blue, covered in some kind of slime. She was dead, and the parents made the decision to save at least one child. The doctors refused to transplant the heart, which had toxin levels that exceeded all acceptable norms. So the father paid them well. The heart was transplanted, but it did not beat, despite direct massage, defibrillators and all the actions of doctors. And this is where the strangest and most mysterious event began. I opened my eyes during my resuscitation and clearly saw a hermit spider descending from the ceiling on a spider web. At one point in time he froze, I suddenly thought he was looking at me with all four pairs of eyes. Then the spider broke away from the web and dropped right into my open chest between my ribs. And my heart gave its first beat, then another and another. I was saved. No one believes me, because I couldn’t have seen it, because I was dead at that moment. But I remember it very clearly and distinctly. That boy has lived inside me ever since. Taking care of me, healing any open wounds, stopping internal bleeding, injecting antidotes and antivirals into my body, fixing broken limbs.
— Cool! — Eira nodded. — Really cool. Doesn’t it cure radiation?
— I don’t want to check. But I have a little girl secret,» Tamura leaned across the table conspiratorially and put her finger to her lips, «shh, shh, shh. I’ve never been on any diet,» she whispered. — All the extra glycogen is consumed by him. That’s who it is, if not Linda’s reincarnation? Yes, I don’t deny the power of my stagnum, and that if it weren’t for the stagnum, maybe Mitsu wouldn’t be here now. But where does a nine-year-old girl with no stagnum come from?
— Okay, but I have a question that’s been bugging me since I met you. May I?
— Yeah, go ahead.
— How do you remove with your fingers the web, the strength of which allows you to stop bullets and, as you say, fix limbs in fractures?
— No way! Mitsu lets me do it. It’s like he’s in constant control of all the coverings on me, and when I start tearing at my webs, he loosens those places. I don’t know how to explain it scientifically, but I think it’s about the protein that makes up the web. It’s like the spider is changing its molecular structure. Or degrades some component that binds the protein. But the web always comes off easily and flushes down the toilet just as easily.
— Wow! Doesn’t he get jealous of your men?
— Ooh! This is a special case! Mitsu realizes that my partner would be at least embarrassed if he found a spider on him or me during sex. So he leaves me, climbs onto the tallest furniture in the room, and quietly observes. And when a man begins to show dominant intentions, he lifts his butt in preparation to jump.
— И? Keep going! Have you ever jumped?
— Niiiii, no? Not once! — Tamura was clearly lying. — If I let that happen, how many handsome men would die an agonizing death, writhing in pain from painful shock. Though I really, really want to see it sometimes.
— I’ll pretend to believe you,» Eira tried to be serious. — And all your partners are alive and well. You know, let’s drink to your great gift! — she filled the glasses under the questioning look of the birthday girl. — Never, under any circumstances, never be discouraged! I’m serious now. I often envy you. You’re always bellowing like a wheezing horse, making jokes in any most hopeless situation. And most of all, your inability to see the evil in people. It’s a gift I envy terribly. Sometimes I look at some sectarian scum, my eyes bleed, and only my position does not allow me to burn him alive. It’s hard to live with that. But you’re not! You’re different! You even kill them out of curiosity or for fun, as the severed head will roll down the stairs, or whether the shoulder will fountain blood. As paradoxical as it sounds, you’re the kindest witch I know. And, in terms of forbidden theology, it turns out you’re a saint if sin is a thought. Well, sinless, at least. You don’t meet men like that, and it’s a unique quality among women. And the main thing is that you’re not afraid of death.
— I’ve died so many times!
— Come on, cheers! Oh, I’m out of champagne. I’ll try to find another bottle.
— No need, — replied Tamura. — I have some Ledum, — she took out a copper five-hundred-gram flask. — I took it out in the winter. I insisted on herbs for six months, so you can try it now. You don’t need to drink it.
— We’re not going to die? — Eira smiled.
— Don’t worry. It’s my guest’s, a selection,» she carefully poured her homemade aperitif into champagne glasses. — So I’m going to poison the guests? Cheers! — she drank to the bottom and snacked on berries. — They had a karaoke somewhere. I’ll try to set it up.
Twenty minutes later, the witches were already trying to outdo each other in karaoke.
***
— You don’t see that driving a bike,» Tamura said. They were riding in the back of a squad car on an empty street at night. Eira was studying something on her tablet computer, and Tamura was just staring out the window, leaning her temple against the glass. Along the road, storefronts and various salons flashed with brightly lit signs that read, «Love Horoscopes. Taurus 50% off,» «Battle shaman 24/7,» «Totem tattoos,» «Training in clairvoyance. Set girls from 7 years old», «Descendant magician. Return husband or money!».
— A lot of…, I forgot the word,» Tamura began snapping her fingers, trying to remember. — Such a succinct old word to describe it all.
— Obscurantism,“ Eira replied. — „That word is ’obscurantism’
— Exactly! Obscurantism, endless, varied, for all tastes, ages and orientations. The sellers of happiness.
— People have to believe in something,» Eira said, turning her attention from the tablet to the flickering, endless garland of light-effect signs. — Not everyone is comfortable with the scientific explanations of stagnum and what it can create. As they say, don’t teach physics in school and your life will be filled with wonder and magic.
— Speaking of physics,» Tamura replied without turning around. — What is the nature of your stagnum? And why Max? And where is he all the time? Where is he now, for example?
— Oooh! I remembered about Max. Look,» she pulled a cigarette out of the pack, waited until Tamura’s curiosity made her pull her groggy head away from the glass.
— Are you going to burn me?
— «Max is not only a born and brutal mass murderer, but also a delicate gentleman with manners,» Eira said the moment the tip of the cigarette flared up. — Thank you, Max. «The nature of my stagnum is based on a phenomenon that physicists call «Maxwell’s demon’.
— Yes, I remember such a thing,» Tamura said with difficulty moving her lips. — A made-up devil that regulates the probability streams of the distribution of particles with the same characteristics. Holy zodiacs, how do I know that?
— From the academy, I guess. I only learned it there myself. Now, Max knows how to distribute the probability streams of molecules by separating them by temperature. So it turns out that molecules with increased energy gather in one place, increasing the temperature of the object, and calmer — in another, respectively, cooling the air or bodies. In this case, almost no energy is used. After all, it’s not the temperature that’s being regulated, it’s the probability.
— What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t get it. Maybe when I sober up, you can tell me everything. I just realized why Max. Shortened «Maxwell’s Demon» to «Max,» huh?
The car made a smooth turn down an alley and pulled up to the school’s main entrance.
— Maybe you won’t pick up the bike today. I see you’re all messed up.
— Niiiii, I’m fine. I haven’t ridden like this before. Besides, Mitsu’s taking care of me. Good boy,» she opened the door and staggered toward the bike, trying to find the hilt of her katana behind her back. Then abruptly turned around and walked over to the car. — Where’s the pipidastre?
— You’ll pick it up tomorrow,“ Eira replied, closing the door and throwing it to the autopilot, „Let’s go!
— I’ll pick it up tomorrow,» Tamura nodded at the departing car, saddled the bike and slowly drove in the opposite direction.
Eira sent the service drone to the garage, took the elevator up to the sixteenth floor. Then she poured the duty coffee from the coffee maker, lit a cigarette, made herself comfortable on the wide windowsill, converted into a recliner and looked out the window.
— It’s obscurantism,» she said almost syllabically and took a deep drag.
Chapter 8
Бесплатный фрагмент закончился.
Купите книгу, чтобы продолжить чтение.