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Chapter 1. Sauna
Chapter 2. Closed opening
Chapter 3. Beauty Plastic Clinic
Chapter 4. Fifteen days
Chapter 5. Clinic again
Chapter 6. The Other World
Chapter 7. Return to reality
Chapter 8. Recruitment
Chapter 9. Evening promenade
Chapter 10. Omsk
Chapter 11. The Sharite Clinic
Chapter 12. The Second Coming into the Other World
Chapter 13. Two hospitals
Chapter 14. Moscow and Berlin
Chapter 15. The Other World and the new oppositionist
Chapter 16. Death on Zamshin Street
Chapter 17. Court and convoy
Chapter 18. Results of Operation Covid
Chapter 19. Murakhovsky ’s tricks
Chapter 20. The court and the convoy. Continuation
Chapter 21. Vasily Petrovich’s Limited Happiness
Chapter 22. Notes of the Mendelssohn March
Chapter 23. Languishing bodies
Epilogue
Once, after looking at the «Black Square», Vasily Petrovich Lomakin decided to relax and meditate alone: what is the most important thing in life when people are scared of coronavirus from everywhere? You have to ask yourself this question when you have everything – both a university diploma and parliamentary immunity. The immersion session started in the thinking room of Vasya’s mansion, more precisely, the thinking room was located in the sauna. Where it is warm and quiet, and, most importantly, without female temptation, so as not to distract with their charms, because concentration and detachment are the first and necessary condition! And, secondly, to have a table with hot sausages and vodka next to it – and what’s the big deal, and what’s the big deal? This is just not superfluous! Lomakin respects the poetic creativity of Andrei Makarevich, the author of the text of the popular song «For those who are at Sea», especially since this topic was methodologically close and understandable to Vasily. The bard retired, took a bottle of cognac and began to write different words under a glass… It turns out that everything is ingenious, you need to have in your pocket at one time only eight rubles twelve kopecks for three stars. If he’s not lying, of course. And if vodka is the equivalent of cognac in the sense of the possibility of meeting the Muse.
– But the last thesis needs to be tested experimentally, – Vasily decided. There was a pause, so necessary in a bold experiment.
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Elena Nikolaevna carefully laid out six photographs on the table with her thin fingers. The light scent of her expensive perfume could be regarded as a mild anesthesia, but it caused a backlash in Irakli, another attack of internal protest. Three photos of an unfamiliar man in his thirties – full face, profile on the left, profile on the right – nothing unusual, and from the point of view of the surgeon, complicated: blond, average face. And here are the others… When looking at them, Irakli Davidovich, who had seen the sights, had a loud, intermittent heart that went somewhere sideways. Alexey Navalny was depicted in the photo.
– That’s how it happens in life – you go, you go, everything is fine, bang!, and everything is derailed, and you are not there, – Irakli flashed through his brain, looking at the impenetrable face of this one… – he couldn’t even find the right definition right away, – this…
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