Читать книгу Time Jumps. The Paradigm of Immortality - Владимир Баранчиков - Страница 5

Pyotr Mikhailovich woke up sitting in an armchair. In front of him is a monitor screen with the date: June 17, 2021, Moscow time – 17 hours 43 minutes, at the bottom of the phrase:

– “The penetration into the future is over. Stand up and remove the hood. Turn off the device by pressing the red button!”

The button was pressed, the structure with the monitor and the chair began to deflate and disappear into the air, and instead an iron barrel on metal legs reappeared. Kalinkin stood beside the time machine and was silent, gathering his thoughts. Have arrived… And where, exactly? After looking around, the traveler discovered that he was in an unfamiliar place, in some kind of closed, poorly lit room, like a warehouse or utility room. Pushing open the unlocked door, he found himself in the trading floor of the store, where this morning (oh, a miracle!) he bought batteries. The saleswoman involuntarily shuddered from surprise when she saw a stranger coming out of the office, and with fright called the administrator. Pyotr Mikhailovich only managed to spread his hands as a sign of good intentions, show empty palms and take a look in the mirror on the wall…The administrator, an energetic middle-aged lady, jumped out of the next room, went for rapprochement and attacked a young man who had fallen from nowhere with a powerful body and tricky questions: from where? why? why?, subjected him to a light search and let him go in peace, gently pushing him out into the street. Kalinkin realized that he was back in a country village, not far from his own house. Well, if so, fate itself prompted: go to your wife and clarify the situation, which yesterday would have seemed complete nonsense and absurdity.

After leaving the store, Pyotr Mikhailovich stopped and carefully examined his clothes. He remember that he went to the Future in his usual outfit – a work jacket and jeans, but he defiled at Butlerov street and the police in a brown suit. Now, after returning, he found himself dressed in a dark blue jumpsuit and short boots, and on his head was a blue baseball cap. There was, of course, no answer to the question of how and why clothes were changed and in which intertemporal atelier he was changed. But this circumstance is not so mysterious compared to the stunning change in appearance, and the age has decreased again! During the flight to 2026, he rejuvenated by twenty years and remained unrecognized by a neighbor who knew him like a flake from his student days. Did the reverse jump reduce (or did give him a gift) two more decades – at least that’s how Kalinkin looked now, walking briskly along the narrow village road, and felt like he matched his years. Apparently, this is the bonus from the barrel for bold experiments.

Pyotr Mikhailovich, or rather Peter looked with interest at the picture of summer spreading out before him, saw it in a new way, as if for the first time. By evening, the heat of the day finally relented and receded, cirrus clouds appeared high in the sky, stretching into white rag strips, daring from time to time to cover His Majesty the Sun. Suddenly the wind died down, and the orchestra of grasshoppers with crickets performed a concerto in D minor for the traveler, splashing their melodies in the fading nature. Here, around the corner, is his house with a dilapidated picket fence, a gate and a narrow path leading to a familiar door.

Galina Sergeevna was sitting in the kitchen and drinking tea alone, thinking about where her husband could have gone – he had not been in the house or on the plot for an hour. Her husband’s mobile phone was lying next to her, so she could only wait – apparently, Pyotr Mikhailovich decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, to be alone with himself. A sudden noise from the courtyard alerted her, there was a knock on the door.

– Who’s there? – The woman asked in a trembling voice.

– Can I come in? – An unfamiliar deep voice asked.

– Come in! – Galina Sergeevna allowed, and despite the external calmness, her soul sank into her heels: Pyotr Mikhailovich would not knock…

There was a creak, heavy footsteps were heard on the stairs, and a young man of about twenty-five appeared on the threshold, wearing a blue overalls, short boots and a blue baseball cap with the inscription “Reebok”.

– Excuse me, mistress, – the guest began reassuringly, seeing the fright in the eyes of an elderly woman, – I’m going around the houses in the neighborhood, I suggest drilling wells. Do you have an old well on your site, as with drinking water?

– There is water, but my husband and I haven’t decided anything about the well yet, – and as if in justification, she added: – We haven’t been here long, we haven’t looked around properly yet…

Galina Sergeevna’s sudden fear did not let go yet, but she tried with all her might not to show it – some frightening implausibility emanated from the man. His visit from the point of view of common sense is also inexplicable and mysterious: it’s too late to go around the house, rather, it’s just an excuse. However, the guest was in no hurry to leave and closely followed the behavior of the hostess, and she intuitively, unmistakably felt that it was not the well at all.

– What kind of day is this? First Pyotr disappeared somewhere, and now this strange guest? – she thought, and aloud, in order to round off the strange conversation, politely suggested: – And you come to us in a couple of days, talk to the owner…

– I will do that, – the guy agreed, resolutely put on his cap and left without saying goodbye. When the door slammed and the footsteps in the garden died away, Galina Sergeevna, without feeling, slowly got up and walked stiffly to the open window, carefully closed the shutters and latched them on the latches. Her hands were shaking as if from exertion, her head was spinning, and her body was stiff with fright. She returned to the table, managed to drink water from a glass, then tried to get a bottle of medicine, but the floor swayed treacherously and went out from under her feet. Flying away into the darkness and piercing pain, she still thought about Pyotr.

The time machine played a cruel joke with Pyotr Mikhailovich. He appeared before his Galina as a young stranger full of strength and health. Shocked no less than his wife, assessing the situation as if from the outside, he intended not to injure his ridiculous explanations for at least another couple of days in order to save her from an imminent blow. Perhaps something will change during this time… The game eventually presented the second side of the coin – the reckoning for superpowers, which also needs to be comprehended and taken for granted. Having left his own house, burdened with the revealed truths, Peter had no idea where to go, and wandered aimlessly along the highway. Then, unable to think of anything better, he turned around and headed back to the store. At this late hour there were no more visitors, and out of desperation, he started a bold conversation with a pretty saleswoman about urgent needs: I’m so thirsty that I have nowhere to spend the night… There are practically no chances of success, but, surprisingly, the girl remembered and recognized him and, calmly measuring him with her impenetrable black eyes, asked:

– And what were you doing in the warehouse?

– Yes, I accidentally went there… – Kalinkin lied clumsily.

It was hardly true, but his helpless appearance confirmed better than any words: He is not from here, he have nowhere to go, even if a wolf howls… after a little thought, the girl calmly said in a melodious voice:

– If you’re thirsty, buy a couple of beers, well, or stronger… And the snack, so be it, I’ll cook it myself.

Mein goth! Kalinkin almost jumped for joy and at first did not even believe what he had heard: what a surprise and contrast with the new self that had not yet fully formed! His eyes studied her expression and finally lit up with an inner fire of hope. The psychological swing swung again, the cave of Ali Baba’s treasures opened up before him: pleasant company, a warm overnight stay, and if he was really lucky, then a woman’s caress.

– What’s your name, not Mother Teresa? – he joked.

– Daria. And you?

Carefully, so as not to scare away, not to dispel this mirage, Peter asked as politely as possible to choose snacks to her taste, and even in this she did not disappoint. Where he got the money in his pocket so conveniently turned out to be – probably a mystery, on a par with new clothes… When the store closed, the two of them walked leisurely side by side, shoulder to shoulder, occasionally looking at each other with interest. When she reached the gate, jokingly, or maybe seriously, a new acquaintance stopped and asked Peter:

– Aren’t you a criminal?

– Does it really look like? – Peter retorted with a smile.

– I don’t think so. Married? – that’s how easily they switched to “you”.

– I don’t even know, – Peter exhaled after a pause. But strangely enough, this answer was received favorably: everything happens, and she has already seen something in her life.