1 Chapter 0. Prologue

Ivan Stepanovich, for several minutes already stood at the old window of his tiny kitchen and through the glass, which, it seemed, had not been washed since the moment of its installation, he watched how the first downpour of the beginning autumn disperses the slow pedestrians.

- Time to buy new shoes ... - he muttered with a heavy sigh. The money that the old man has been saving from his beggarly pension for 5 months now will be spent to keep his feet dry and warm during the rain. Right now, he could not afford to go outside, because in his own, almost 73 years old, walking out into the rain in well-worn and already pretty shabby shoes, he was guaranteed to catch a cold, and therefore, an impressive, black, 200 liter plastic bag with rubbish, received another respite from forced "deportation".

* Ding *

An electric kettle signal sounded, indicating that boiling water was ready.

With his habitual movements, Ivan Stepanovich took a large ceramic mug, which he had acquired more than 30 years ago, threw a pinch of tea, half a lemon slice into it, poured boiling water to the brim and carefully covered it with a saucer. He was not going to drink tea today, and therefore was not worried that it would cool down, the main thing is that instead of ordinary water, he would have his favorite drink, replacing him with milk, juices, lemonades and in general everything on which he once again preferred to save money, because on a pension that was about $ 200 a month, you don't really cheer, he spent about 50 of them on utility bills, another 100 he spent on cheap food and medicine, and after some additional expenses out of the remaining 50, he put off - just in case, and this time, autumn boots will be such a "case".

Taking his "cherished" e-book from the kitchen table, Ivan Stepanovich, frowning, ignoring the pain in his knees and back, went to his only room that looked more like an old and long-abandoned warehouse of used rubbish, along the walls of which were piled incomprehensibly filled boxes, otherwise , for which such a box was not found, it was simply dumped in an untidy heap. Anyone who saw such a mess would rightly think that this room belongs to a rare slob.

But, in fact, Ivan Stepanovich adored order to the extreme, and it was this that led to the opposite state, because with his finances, it was in no way possible to have for each thing its proper place, it would take a whole warehouse the size of two such a room filled with neat shelves and endless drawers, and since there was no such possibility, then any other state for him was no different from the current one.

Closing the window, escaping the night draft, which was completely inevitable on the eighth floor, he sat down on the edge of the sofa, which was as old as he got from his great-great-grandfather, then reached for a plastic bottle with a cheap low-alcohol drink and a glass, who stood in their already permanent place, on the dusty floor next to the sofa. Assessing his current "sleeping pill" dose of alcohol, taking into account the rain falling outside the window, at 150 grams, he poured the drink into a glass and drank half of it in the first couple of sips. The old man has supported this daily ritual for almost 10 years, because, unlike the drugs available to him, he almost guaranteed that if he drinks 100-200 grams before bedtime, he will fall asleep in the next 2 hours, which was very important for him, and periodically the emerging feeling of slight euphoria was a bonus.

His sleep pattern was broken, including by his addiction to reading books, which filled his loneliness and were like a "drug" constantly stimulating the nervous system. It seemed absolutely impossible to break away from reading the science fiction and fantasy so beloved by him, and after retirement, this became almost his only pastime.

Books became everything for him, replacing the failures of the past and the boredom of real life, with the cheerful adventures of heroes who were always accompanied by amazing events, endless possibilities, strength, whole harems of beautiful and loving girls whom he was completely worthy and who were undoubtedly worthy of such a hero. No, he did not associate himself with them, never, despite his sad situation, his pride would simply not allow him, but this did not stop to empathize with these heroes to the fullest, only sometimes experiencing acute attacks of melancholy and resentment, in the first place on himself and his inability to adapt in real life, to be like everyone else, in his 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, missing out on opportunities that any average person would grab. But as time went on, opportunities, as well as experience, passed by, and the further, the more he moved away from understanding the people who surrounded him, he no longer knew how to approach them, and they were completely uninteresting. In the end, the only ones with whom he occasionally exchanged a couple of "business" phrases were the shop assistants.

Ivan Stepanovich, as usual, picked up an old mobile phone that was lying right on the couch next to the pillow, permanently connected to the charger wire, and made sure that all new calls were only from numbers unknown to him. After a quick glance at the useless messages, he chose the "erase everything" option from the menu without hesitation. The main role of his phone was to function as a watch, and receive messages about the receipt of a pension, the only calls that came came only from crooks who hoped to lure Ivan Stepanovich out of his last savings by offering medicines for all diseases or quick earnings, and advertisers who invading his life without any hesitation, they were no different from these very crooks, so the call sound was turned off so as not to bother.

Assessing the effect of alcohol as satisfactory, Ivan Stepanovich put on a pair of woolen socks that were stretched from time to time, in places full of holes, but still warm, and lay on the sofa lying with a creak, adjusted his glasses "for reading" with a miraculously preserved single arch so that they would not fall off and plunged into a bright and wonderful world of adventure.

About an hour later, alcohol began to take its toll, the book fell out of his weakened fingers, his eyes began to close, and the last thing that flashed in them was the unwillingness to part with reading, which he of course intended to continue immediately after waking up.

However, Ivan Stepanovich did not know that he would not be destined to find out how this story would end, never …

.....

- Wake up ...

.....

- Wake up ...

.....

- Wake up …, - called a pure and gentle woman's voice devoid of any flaws. The beauty of this voice fascinated, and it seemed that for any person, everything he said would become a truth and an order, however, Ivan Stepanovich did not want to open his eyes at all, he experienced a strange feeling of lightness and emptiness, without pain, numbness or any ailments that usually, he was greeted with awakening.

But, the voice was not going to give up, and as if knowing that it had already been noticed, he continued at a slow pace, with an arrangement …

- Listen to me carefully, this is very ... very important!

In addition to this voice, there was absolutely nothing in the light emptiness, it seemed as if he physically occupied all the space, like air, and therefore, all that remained was to listen. His sound was really mesmerizingly pleasant and seemed to be an integral part of the euphoria he felt …

- First, you don't have to say anything, don't say a single word, you will get answers to all questions later.

"And I didn't want to", he thought slowly, as if feeling that any extraneous sound in this semblance of paradise would disturb the comfort state and would be completely inappropriate.

- Second, you will have to do what I tell you, follow every instruction.

- In about 5 minutes, you will open your eyes and realize that you are in an unfamiliar environment, but you should not worry, I will take you home, just follow all my instructions.

It was like another strange dream in which Ivan Stepanovich had a huge experience, because he dreamed of them every night, sometimes even two or three, and therefore, he was completely calm and relaxed, as if everything that was happening was absolutely normal, although, of course, there was nothing normal and similar to the situation from ordinary life in this.

- Remember, this is vitally important, - continued this enchanting, almost hypnotic voice, - just do what I say, and in 20 minutes you can get all the answers.

.....

- Now, open your eyes, it's time for us to go!

Ivan Stepanovich obediently opened his eyes. Everything around was blurry, which did not surprise him at all, he was used to poor eyesight without glasses and did not even wonder why everything was equally blurred at any distance. The warm bliss gradually receded, and the feeling of gravity returned, and it turned out that he was not lying in his bed, but in fact, was in an upright position. The soft light emanating from an unknown source was not bright, and did not even require getting used to, however, it was enough to illuminate the small, empty room in which he woke up. The walls were white, and the floor, a strange light yellow hue, even and clean, even without the slightest spot.

- Take about two steps forward, there will be a glass with a drink on the left, drink it.

There was a soft and incomprehensible feeling, as if something supported him without load on his legs, and before Ivan Stepanovich took his first step, he had to push off the wall.

- Act more decisively, we cannot linger here, look to the left, there is a glass, you must drink it.

He looked around, and indeed there was a recessed shelf in the wall and there was something resembling a narrow and tall glass. Swaying slightly, as if still not fully awake, he took another step, took a glass, which turned out to be pleasantly warm …

- Drink! - insisted a charmingly beautiful voice, and he just took and drank an absolutely tasteless liquid, which left only a feeling of moisture on his lips.

- Turn right and go out into the street, - the invisible girl continued to command.

He put the glass back mechanically and turned. But at first he did not understand where to go, in front of him was the same clean, white wall, however, taking an indecisive step forward, he saw that a brightly lit passage appeared in front of him, to which he headed.

After he left, it was as if bright daylight, unusual colors and loud sounds fell on him. He was seized with a slight panic from disorientation, except that his vision was not clear, he did not feel anything familiar at all, the sounds seemed like a random noise, spots flashed in his eyes and his head started spinning, and the drink he had just drunk caused nausea and asked to go outside.

But the voice did not let him "enjoy" all this and began to give short commands:

- Turn right ..., go ..., do not stand still ..., do not run ..., left ..., go straight …

It seemed that this went on for eternity, until the voice brought the almost unconscious Ivan Stepanovich into the building, then led him into a small room, where he heard the final:

- That's it, stop, we have already arrived …

What happened next he did not hear, this short route seemed to take all his strength, his head was spinning, nausea actually twisted him, his exhausted legs could not stand it, and he fell to the floor as if knocked down, plunged into oblivion.

.....

"What a strange dream?" was the first thought that came to mind after awakening. With difficulty taking a sitting position, Ivan Stepanovich came to his senses for several minutes, he was still nauseous, there was a dull veil in his eyes and he almost did not feel his body. All he could clearly understand was that he was not at home at all, the small room in which he woke up was rather dimly lit, everything around was in strange gray-green tones, and the almost complete silence only emphasized the general gloom of this places.

It didn't take long to explore the room, it was rectangular in shape, and the size of the room in his old apartment, only with higher ceilings, it was completely empty except for the rather large and even bed. There was no window, no door, and nothing else in the room. To make sure of this completely, Ivan Stepanovich walked along the perimeter several times, carefully feeling the walls and even the floor, hoping to find at least some kind of unevenness. However, he did not even find dust. His only observation was that the floor seemed lighter than the walls and was warm to the touch, while the walls were cool, there was no way to reach the ceiling. It was not possible to determine the material from which the room was made, and even what he considered to be a bed did not have any sheets or blankets, or even pillows, but the surface was soft and silky.

Returning to the place of his awakening, he sat down with his back against the wall and began to think, trying to focus on pieces of his chaotically rushing consciousness:

"Where am I?"

"This is not my apartment."

"It doesn't look like an apartment at all."

"It's more like a camera."

"It's too good for a prison, but it doesn't look like a hospital either."

"Damn, this doesn't look like anything at all."

"What was that voice and where did it take me?"

"Actually, I came here myself, but what was it? Hypnosis? Drugs?"

"Why has my vision deteriorated so much?"

The flow of thoughts was interrupted by a feeling of thirst, and a new outburst of panic was already stronger than the past, he realized that there was nothing in the room in the literal sense of the word, there was no toilet or even just a tap, what can I say about a refrigerator with food and drinks?

He turned to the wall and for the first time decided to draw attention to himself, knocking on it and shouting:

- Hey ..., - but hearing a high-pitched voice that was unnatural for him, the word "somebody" got stuck in his throat, the voice was thin and completely alien. Fear covered him with a new, stronger panic wave, and he, tightly clenching his fists, began to knock on the wall with all his might, but either these forces were not enough, or the walls were impenetrable, even he himself faintly heard his own knocking.

- Open up! Is anyone here? - He shouted almost hysterically, ignoring the completely unfamiliar voice that escaped his throat. Tears filled with despair spontaneously flowed from his eyes.

Left without strength, Ivan Stepanovich turned around and slid down the same wall to the floor, sat down with his back against the wall, and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate and put his head in order.

.....

.....

.....

- Hi ... are you okay? - the same beautiful voice that had earlier brought him here called out to him.

Out of surprise, Ivan Stepanovich almost jumped, opening his tear-stained eyes wide, he suddenly saw her …

She sat on the bed, leaning slightly on her thin, snow-white arms ... graceful legs softly touched the floor with her fingertips ... long, platinum-white hair flowed like a mountain river down her shoulders and continued on the surface of the bed ... the clothes were light, simple, but decent ... She was absolutely beautiful, as if she was challenging the beauty woven from the best images of the most amazing girls from all the books he read in his life ... Her whole body radiated some kind of mystical, warm radiance, as if her life aura in some unthinkable way penetrated this mortal world through ideal, light skin ... Every shape and every bend of her body was not vulgar, but balanced between what would arouse in people the desire to worship her, or desire "Eat" her ..

She looked attentively and with interest directly at him, with her sparkling, silvery-emerald eyes …

- Hello, - she sang again in a friendly way, clearly addressing him.

- My name is ... Squirrel …