Читать книгу The fourth president - Владимир Баранчиков - Страница 6

Shortly before these events, on June 9, 2020, the magistrate of the Tverskoy District Court of Moscow promptly considered the accusation of the former deputy, hooligan academician V.P. Lomakin and soldered him the fifteen days of administrative arrest required by law to stay in the special detention center No. 1 on Petrovka street. The place is gorgeous, it’s not a sin to sit here, all cultural points are nearby: the Bolshoi Theater, the Central Department Store, the National hotel, the native Duma, and the Kremlin is also not far away. Upon arrival, he was issued, and not as strictly as in the Presidential Library, but the mobile phone and lighter were seized.

He got into a cell for twelve people – iron beds, three meals a day, there is no forced labor, sit and read books – consider that he is back in the reading room. Or in the sauna, that is, the thinking room. Why waste precious time? Concentrating, disconnecting, Lomakin entered a trance state, and the creative process, as they say, began again. Vasily Petrovich’s reasoning was based on the following logical chain: coronavirus – nanometers – nanotechnology – Rusnano – Anatoly Chubais – resignation – closed opening – appointment as special representative of the president – resignation. Unaccustomed to working with large amounts of information, and even in such conditions, it is very difficult. Lomakin leaned back on the cot, not in a hurry to make any hasty conclusions. His head was buzzing with incredible tension; our hero was subjected to severe trials in the name of humanity, over which the threat of a nasty covid pandemic loomed. He devoted himself to analyzing and compiling a chain of facts, he is free in his flight of thought, and no bars on the windows could prevent this. Each link stubbornly matured in Vasya’s brain all day (with a break for breakfast, lunch and dinner), and the next day was spent on building a neural bridge to another link, so that during the period of solitude eight links were connected, inexorably leading to a solution. Perhaps, if the term of imprisonment had been longer, there would have been more links, but this number also caused periodic overflow of brain activity, and only one thing helped – the iron will of the thinker. Suddenly, there was a persistent premonition that the truth was about to be revealed in the process of relaxation and complete fusion with the universal mind. A mixture of beer and vodka would be Vasily Petrovich’s reliable guide to the world of truth, and the more guides there were, the faster the journey to the shining peaks of knowledge would go. But jail is not a theater, there was no buffet, so he had to think dry, and thoughts rubbed against each other without lubrication, causing a strong grinding in his head. It is possible that these sounds no-no and burst out through the auditory passages, and the ears, as natural resonators, amplified them so much that the neighbors in the cell began to look strangely at Lomakin. But this did not bother the pioneer of science: he was no longer in this physical dimension and did not notice anything around. Suddenly something tickled in Vasily’s head, and all the obstacles receded at once, there was a straight, shiny road ahead to the snow-capped peaks, then the road went down somewhere, like an airfield runway, and Lomakin was already soaring in the sky, directing the flight of his wings to a shining circle in the blue firmament. In order not to disrupt the clairvoyance session, Vasily made a few more swings with his hands in flight. Flying closer, he saw that the circle had turned into a round revolving door, just like at the Angleterre Hotel in St. Petersburg, and there were no guards at the door, neither apostles from paradise, nor angels from the FSO. Strange… But there was no point in stopping, just go ahead! Just in case, Vasily took another sip for courage (and where did the vodka come from?) and took two steps towards the bluish glass. The door went somewhere to the side, the blue illumination turned on and a voice said:

– No entry with with a bottle!

– No entry with with a bottle!

He had to finish his drink (and it won ’t take long to get drunk – Vasily Petrovich automatically noted) and fearlessly enter the Other World. This visit through the national digital tax system of scanning and control of the consciousness of individuals became known in the charitable assistance fund Good Doctor.

On June 18, at Domodedovo Airport, on the second floor, in the check-in departure area number 38, Galina Sergeevna, the administrator of the Beauty Plastic clinic, was waiting for an invitation to board. At her feet was a large blue suitcase on wheels, in her hands she was holding a brown Lakestone bag, which effectively matched the color of her gray pantsuit of the company… – however, we can’t tell from here. In five hours, according to the schedule, her Boeing will land at Santo Domingo airport. According to the manager of the company issuing the voucher and tickets, it is the best tourist center and resort in the world.