The World of Multicellular. Oleg Seriy
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Название: The World of Multicellular
Автор: Oleg Seriy
Издательство: Издательские решения
Жанр: Приключения: прочее
isbn: 9785449330222
isbn:
This announcement was made every day but today it sounded something different, unusual… it sounded in a new fashion. And «financial mechanisms» were never mentioned before either. They used to speak only about «tribute» and «blood». Probably now that the World Governance was settled aliens didn’t want to conceal that we were their slaves anymore, I thought inwardly.
Every system has its own secret, its mystery. You can learn it in two ways – either to ask someone who knows it or to find out yourself using your agility, brain, wisdom, cunning or combination of these and other qualities. This way is more difficult but more interesting and the soul gets the most valuable experience for it. The first way is easier but less interesting. If you want to learn the secret from someone who possesses it you should offer them something they lack but it is not that easy; you should not only give it to them but you should first find out what they need. The soul, however, gets less experience for that. Shaitan was the one who knew the secret. I gave him what he wanted. I gave him myself. Not at once, of course. First I offered him my soul but he concluded it was too despicable and refused to take it. He even said he «wouldn’t wipe his ass with it». And gave a wild laugh. His laughter could be heard even on the third floor. Our neighbours thought that the Last Judgement had come and called for the police. Then I nodded silently and he occupied my body and nowI don’t even know when it is me or it is him, the Legion and the Devil itself, dwelling inside me… Besides, when the police arrivedI was already asleep.
In my dreams I tried to understand what I needed this secret for. And I came to the conclusion that the one who learned it would become a very rich person in all senses within that system…
Shaitan used to say that the person who had something in large amounts and shared it with others was less great than the one who almost didn’t have anything but shared it as well. This is a really great person. And that’s what only matters.
Imagine, – said Shaitan, – that you fetch yourself some tea. Let it be not tea but just a situation. They are having post-flight analysis. More exactly, post-fall analysis. Wait for the tea to cool down. Don’t drink it at once. Watch it or havea rest. And then come back and drink it…
I did everything according to the rules. Exactly as he had told me. I went for a walk in deserted and dull streets and then I came back and drank my tea. It was already cool.
– But their feelings didn’t cool down, the other way round, they became even more passionate, – went on Shaitan, – the feelings between Lucifer and Eve. That is how they were called before. And they didn’t have post-fall analysis because everything ran smoothly between them. It was Eve who was having blamestorming with her previous admirer. With Lucifer she had only post-flight analysis. And these are two completely different things, as they say in Odessa. Or rather they don’t.
How shall I explain it? We had mutual understanding with her. With She-Wolf… It is very difficult to achieve it… You should have super luckiness and super miracle. We had both.
Anyway, he stroke Eve on her light (like Sun light) head and said: «You can stay with me. But there is one rule – don’t bug me. If you are not going to bug me you will make me happy and I will make you happy as well». She-Wolf didn’t know whatto say so she kept silent. Who was he, that man?
My friend Shaitan used to explain to me that his real name was Lucifer. But in fact he was MaRiCaBo; the thing is that he formerly possessed Lucifer. God dwells in God, Man dwells in Man, and Angel dwells in Angel. MaRiCaBo was not an exception. But he didn’t dwell in Lucifer anymore. It was already his worldly life. The last embodiment before the deserved rest with her.
…Some time passed. No matter how much. She was sitting at the table with him. And there was also another man.
So, what are you engaged in?
I live.
Dad, he is a writer, – said She-Wolf.
I hate people answering for me. I wanted to kill him but then it occurred to me that if I had killed her fatherI would have probably spoiled relations with her mother. Even Shaitan whispered: «Not now». I started twisting a napkin in my hands.
– Really? And what do you write? – asked a short man of forty-five, a builder.
– Books, – snapped I. – Are you really such an idiot as people say you are? – Something malicious flashed in my eyes. And something benign at the same time.
– Darling, stop it. Family table is not a proper place for your sarcasms… He writes esoteric and spiritual books.
– Oh, does he? – asked the man pretending to be very interested in the conversation.
«No, fuck you, I’m joking!» – I thought inwardly.
He is also a businessman… – she stared at me. – Hey! Are you out of reality again? In your dreams?..
She dragged me hard out of a dust cloud and space curls and returned me back to the conversation.
But why don’t you think that we now see each other in our dreams? – asked Shaitan. And then he fell silent.
In medical terms it is called «paranoid schizophrenia» which goes along with «split personality», «multiplied personality» (more then one hundred soldiers) and especially «the Oedipus Complex». If Shaitan had had a personal doctor he would have probably set him this diagnosis from the first glance without even consulting various classifications like MKB —10, 9 or MeSH. The other way round, it was Shaitan who in his free time worked in a medical clinic where he set the fallen mankind the diagnosis «death». I could never understand what he needed job for as he had always been very rich. I don’t know where he got the money from; either he was a robber or a magician. I personally think it’s the same. When I used to ask him about that he either laughed loudly or said that medicine was just his hobby. As well as culture, sports, politics, religion, art and education… His hobbies made the whole list. Or rather his rats in the attic. They dwelled inside his mind, he knew all their habits and they marched when told to. They kept a low profile when he ordered them to be quiet. The voices… He always heard them…
Anyway, he was considered mad. But he just decided to drive this world crazy. He was a mad genius and his world was mad, too. The things he created in his imagination were everlasting. They were unfathomable… They will live till the new centuries come… But let’s get back to the point.
All this conversation at the table flew away from him. Shaitan was hardly interested in it from the very beginning. He never liked to get acquainted with relatives… Family ties… He was never able to understand them. So he assumed a detached look and stared in the mirror even without pretending to be interested in what the others were saying. Fly was beating against it. It was much more absorbing for him than that meaningless conversation, the table, the chairs, her stupid relatives СКАЧАТЬ