Chapter First

“Ha.. Ha.. Ha..”

Heavy erotic panting, smell of sex and perfume and barely perceivable odor of burnt hair — all of this would be experienced by someone who would enter the room at that moment. In reality, nobody entered it. It was empty.

***

— Я не читаю бумажные книги, — a tall man in black leather said in a tired tone, — Но дело не в том, что я не люблю бумагу. Дело в том, что толщина прочитанного и толщина непрочитанного являются своеобразным спойлером, которого я и стараюсь избежать.

I didn’t reply. Not only because he wasn’t speaking to me, but mostly due to the sad fact that my understanding of russian at the moment was limited to words “да”, “бля” and “мартышка”. Incidentally, the last one used to be my nickname in college, which i’d rather not talk about in details.

— Поэтому пожалуйста не надо приписывать мне то, чего я не говорил. И уж тем более записывать меня в сообщества, к которым я никакого отношения не имею. Это попросту некрасиво.

Even though i couldn’t understand him, i still listened. Not because i enjoy listening to foreign speech — i grew out of it quite some time ago — but because i’m not trained to ignore sounds of human voice when their source is located in immediate proximity.

As i just mentioned, his voice sounded tired, but for all i knew that could be deliberate acting or just a bad habit. The man himself did not look tired. Nor did he had a reason to be tired: he spent twelve out of last twenty four hours sleeping. Though now that i think about it, i probably wasn’t aware of that last fact at the time. Still, i was doubting his sincerity.

He listened for reply in his headphones for a while, then took them off, scratched his balding head and finally looked at me.

— Sorry to keep you waiting, — he spoke with that strange accent which many foreigners adopt when they try too hard to sound british.

— No, no. Please, don’t apologize, Mr. Blue, — i replied, trying hard not to start mimicking his manner of speech, — I perfectly understand you have other important matters on your mind.

He made a weird sequence of faces, starting with a slight surprise and ending in a slight irritation. At the moment i did not understand reasons for that and was somewhat startled by it and almost forgot to continue.

— I wanted to ask a favor of you, — i opened my handbag and took a small printed photo out of it. Or perhaps it was a cut-out piece of photo.

— You want that man dead? — he replied with what i believed was honest surprise.

***

A big fish floated in the pond. The pond would look too small for the fish to any possible observer, yet the fish, being unaware of it, felt pretty comfortable. It was only to be expected, for the fish spent most of its life in spaces smaller than the pond, sometimes much smaller.

***

— Yes, yes, no and yes, — three hours after leaving Blue i was participating in some stupid rapid question game.

— Yes, no, yes and undecided, — answered the same questions a young woman in front of me.

I remember having started to wonder how can one be undecided about that last question, but honestly i don’t even remember what it was about now.

At that point the game was interrupted by the loud speaker announcement. I couldn’t hear what exactly did it say, but i knew it was a station name and by reaction of my companions i figured it was the station we needed.

We left the suburban train and found ourselves on a short concrete platform, covered by a thin slippery frost. Harsh cold wind blew in our faces and the remaining feeling of warmness and comfort was gone in a matter of seconds.

— Come, Bella, let’s move! — somebody pulled me on the shoulder, returning me to present reality.

We walked hurriedly towards the platform end, which to my surprise had no turnstiles and even stairs were in a sorry state. My companions, however, seemed to consider this normal.

Our train left the station, accompanied by pitch-shifting sound of engines and wheels rattling on rail joints. As the last car swept past us, countless railways appeared before our eyes. Or at least so i felt at the moment, for when i saw that station later in the day light, it didn’t occur to me that way anymore.

We started crossing those rails, carefully watching our step not to stumble or slip in the dark. Two or three of us turned on pocket lights, but they weren’t powerful enough to help others.

Ever since we left the train, my mind started to grow hazy and dreamy and by the time we arrived onto “solid ground” i was being more surprised by the fact that i still walked on than by any peculiar events happening in the world around me.

Still, i remember those events, at least some of them. After leaving the station, we entered dirty and dark town, stole a car and drove on a road that started badly and ended terribly. At that point i finally gave up to haziness and fainted.

***

The bottle stood on the porch, almost as if glancing into the dark night outside. Did someone forget it there in a hurry or left intentionally to drink up later? Or was it maybe placed there as a secret sign to that shady fellow lurking on the street? Or, perhaps, it appeared there by the sheer will of god, who had nothing better to do at the time?

***

I came to on a couch in a small room without windows and a faint night lamp as the only source of light. Despite the under-ventilated atmosphere, i felt refreshed. Having quickly remembered the situation i ended up in, i was amused by how unconcerned i was about it.

— Hey, Izzy, are you always so carefree? — I spoke to myself aloud, which i do way too often when i find myself alone in a new environment.

I waited for an answer for a few minutes and when it failed to come, finally got up. As i did, i knocked over some boxes lying on the floor and a small cloud of dust erupted from it, along with rustling sounds. Trying to be more careful, i walked to the door.

I started hearing voices and music when i got close, but sounds really exploded when i opened it. I was startled for i wasn’t prepared that this boringly-looking door would be so good at sound isolation. Now only a couple meters of a narrow appendix separated me from the room full of people.

— Ну я ему и говорю, что его монады мне ни к чёрту не сдались! Мне бы однострочник на перле накатать и забыть.

— Давайте ещё по одной!

— Самое интересное происходит, конечно, у тебя в голове. Не на первый день, нет. В первые несколько дней только лёгкий дискомфорт, а вот пробудешь под водой недельки две — вот тогда крыша и начнёт подвижки давать.

— Аааааа! Мочи его!.. Ну давай!

— ..и в итоге такой балаган устроили..

I felt like everybody was talking at once and only some half minute later had a more accurate account of situation. This was indeed quite a typical party at a late stage; most were already high and had already formed circles and cared little of the outside world. There were two things that made it look so strange at first: small room that condensed everybody to the point of circles mixing up, and sober me being so out of place.

I had been staying there for a while, watching and listening and pondering, when somebody finally noticed me. It was a bearded guy in a sweater who was involved in some heated discussion that apparently was coming to an end.

— Эй, Белла! Okh, ehrm.. I mean, hey Bella, how was your sleep? — he said, standing up and stumbling around. He had pretty typical russian accent and a particularly funny way of pronouncing interjections like he was reading them letter by letter.

— It was fine, thank you..

I wanted to ask his name, but he read it on my face before i could figure out the most appropriate way of asking.

— You probably don’t remember me, do you? I’m Dima. I believe we’ve met a couple years ago, on that conference… i don’t quite remember what it was called.

Incidentally, i didn’t remember any conferences “a couple years ago”. But i didn’t get a chance to raise my objections.

— Cut those formalities, Diiima. And sit down, you’re obstructing my view!

— Oh, Bella, i didn’t realize you were here. Fancy running into you here.

— Would you care for a drink? Or would you prefer some pot?

Suddenly everybody became aware of me and then in a few moments i was in the center of attention. I took the joint offered to me by the girl who was “undecided” back on the train (and whom i barely recognized for she looked quite different with loose hair and casual clothes). It wasn’t my first time to smoke weed, but still i hesitated for a few moments for i had all the reasons to expect the unexpected.

***

Slow fan made slow chopping sounds as its blades were cutting through the thick dirty air. The air was always bad here, always hard to cut through, but the fan had to work without a minute’s rest. Ever since it was launched, it never stopped. Ever since it was installed, it was never seen by a living being.

But what did it matter? The fan would continue working forever, if it must, for it was perfect.