Kitobni o'qish: «Quest. The Drummer's Soul. All the parts. Complete collection»

Quest. The drummer's soul. Part 1

The zoo was in an unprecedented state of excitement. Animals crawled out of cages with the arrival of heat, people missed the long winter hiding in burrows representatives of fauna. A tall guy walked slowly through the rows. People intuitively dispersed themselves without noticing freeing up the road in front of him, and the animals seeing him ran away to their holes and booths. The lion crouched in a corner when the strange citizen stopped at his enclosure.

"Nice dog," he said, smiling contentedly, and went to the door…

"Well, well… another equally tall man in dark glasses noted as he watched the scene, then made a few notes in a notebook and got lost in the crowd…

***

Captivating rhythms resounded from the main square of the city. They completely captured the attention of all those who heard them even from afar. People were rapidly gathering around the lone drummer who had merged in a single dance of body and space with rhythms flying out from under his sticks. These rhythms sounded so exciting and rich, as if they had some diabolical seductive power that you can't fight, that you can't resist. People around the drummer became more and more, cars stopped at the roadsides, on the balconies of buildings located in the hearing zone, companies jostled. Open mouths, admiring glances and these overtaking each other emissions of energy, which were mercilessly distributed to the space by a young guy-virtuoso…

And suddenly, in an instant, everything was quiet. The drummer abruptly cut the song short before playing it to the end. Not immediately began to be heard annoyed exclamations, the audience was eager to continue. The drummer sat motionless, frozen in an awkward position with sticks in his hands. Gradually, he began to make barely visible movements, as if extricating himself from the inside of the web. His movements were slow, somewhat jelly-like. He finally lowered his hands, smoothly straightened his back, and, with difficulty turning his head to a normal position, said loudly, closing his eyes:

"If you do that again, I'll stick these sticks in you, you know where." And I'll do this!

The drummer beat a rapid beat, then turned around.

– Hello, Tikhon. I'm sorry, I didn't think you were still falling for these tricks, " the man in dark glasses said.

– In order to play like this, you have to be open, and when I'm open, I'm vulnerable. We will talk not here, – the guy-virtuoso answered. He nodded to a nearby van and left the tool and went with the waiting man. The van pulled up in front of the parting crowd, and two people began to quickly put the equipment in the car. The crowd began to disperse, and the parked cars continued on their way.

***

"Why did you come?" the drummer asked, sitting in the passenger compartment of a luxury car.

The man behind the wheel took off his sunglasses, put them on the dashboard, and turned off the ignition. There was a hazy emptiness around the car. This place was called the Bay. Random people rarely appeared here, since the area was quite remote from the city, and the vowel was only "for their own".

"I've got a new horse," the driver said, patting the steering wheel.

The drummer was silent, waiting for an answer, his eyes fixed on the window.

– Tikhon, I need your help.

"You personally or the order?" the guy asked, not taking his eyes off the window.

– The task is set by the order, but my interest in this is also there.

The drummer grunted significantly and got out of the car. The driver also left the cabin and went after the guy.

"You know, Vahe, I don't help occult communities, none of them," the guy said calmly, not turning around, knowing that the driver was following him.

"I know, but I also know that there is no way out of the order. Those who are not with us are against us.

"Are you here to remind me of this?" Bartholomew decided that I would comply with his request, fearing retribution, as you call it.

– Tikhon… you're not a stupid person. I found you, and they will find you. Maybe you shouldn't fight with those who gave you everything.

The drummer turned and stared into his opponent's eyes. This look carried great power and no less danger.

"I'm just passing it on," Vahe said, raising his hands peaceably.

– You have a worthy opponent, and you decided to push the heads of those who are dangerous to the order. I recognize Bartholomew's methods. What do… you passed it on, I heard it.

"Will you pass something back?" asked in the back of the departing drummer Vahe.

The drummer turned again.

– In response… Look, " he pointed at the car, running his index finger down it, then closing his index finger with his thumb and separating them.

The car split into two equal halves, as if cut by an invisible laser along the hull.

– Tell them that Tikhon is still in shape, don't play with me. I love the world, I build the world… but I can fight better than anyone!

The drummer turned and left.

– Why did you ask? Vahe said irritably, peering inside the sprawled body of the car…

He took his sunglasses out of the car, put them on, smiled, and disappeared into thin air.

***

Gideon returned from the zoo to his rented apartment in a good mood. Fifteen years of study in seclusion were not in vain. He would probably have forgotten how to speak if he had not mastered the technique of knowledge that allows you to speak any language in the world without learning it by traditional methods. The language of animals, birds, and plants became the man's native language. The trip to the zoo was a kind of test. As he passed the cages, he heard the cries of animals, recognized them, translated them, and answered some quietly without attracting public attention. Intuitively, he instilled in them a brief sense of danger, so that people would not feel it. All the experiments were crowned with success. Gideon pretended not to notice the look on his face of a man from the order, but in fact he specifically declared himself to make certain disturbances in the retinue of Bartholomew, a man with whom fate had brought him together almost twenty years ago.

***

In those early years, orphans from all over the country were distributed among orphanages. The children did not know by whose will and unspoken order the entrance testing was conducted among all institutions of this type. Teachers evaluated the results according to a ready-made template, without going into details, the results were passed to the management. And those already in turn selected the persons interested in them, from new arrivals, and redirected them to the special block. The institution, called a special unit, had the formal status of an institution for the education of children with disabilities. In fact, children from all over the country were brought here not at all flawed. The tests performed in children's homes, allowed to identify the small percentage of children who had a special type of thinking. They were not Laggards, they were special children whose innate abilities and capabilities far exceeded even many adult representatives of the human race. The order of the Black hand was engaged in tracking such children and taking them under the control of a given ideology from an early age. In this occult community, children were given knowledge not available to most people. Ancient manuscripts hidden by the priests, intended to transmit knowledge to every person who came to this world through the heads of clans, chiefs, and fathers of families, were stolen and removed from the capitals of the ancient centers of culture, passing these manuscripts strictly among their followers of the inner circle of initiates from generation to generation. Thus, none of the States of the modern world has ever found the records that were mentioned in any prophecy. Archaeological expeditions managed to find a few grains of knowledge, but no one had a complete picture of the true state of Affairs. The order of the Black hand was one of the followers of a long-running race created by the priesthood, living among people like a state within a state whose influence has long been reversed. The founder of this order was a native of the inner circle of trusted families – Bartholomew. Each child brought to the order from an orphanage, this person met personally only once, on the first day of arrival. This man had only to look at the child to see that it belonged to a special type of people. Thus, the second stage of selection of children was performed in order to weed out those who gave the corresponding result in tests by mistake, accident or inattention. But those who were rejected by Bartholomew were not taken back to orphanages. These children were simply eliminated in the simplest, relatively humane way. They were taken to a separate block where hungry, road-weary children were given lunch. An hour after lunch, the children fell asleep and never woke up. They did not feel any pain or discomfort, the poison contained in the food was created using ancient technologies, the knowledge of which was also hidden. Initially, it was created for the voluntary departure of a person from life, since the ancient culture of the founders of this world provided for the right of a person to physical death. Anyone could have done it at any time. Either a child or an old man. And no one interfered with the individual's decision, because people knew that physical life on Earth is only a small part of the entire journey of the human essence. This poison quickly entered the body, did not have any taste, combined with any food, and stopped the activity of all internal organs in a short time without any visible and sensual consequences. Twenty-four hours after taking this poison, the body began to glow with a bright white light. The concentration of light was saturated until the body was completely hidden in this light, after which the glow stopped, closing at a point and disappearing with the body. Therefore, there were no burials before the theft of this knowledge by the priests. With the concealment of this "homecoming" technology, there was a business like funeral procedures. It quickly gained momentum and firmly established itself among the powerful of this world. This dynamic has continued to this day throughout the world.

Bartholomew, using this recipe, easily solved the problem of eliminating "defective" children. No one who saw the face of the master of the order could leave the community just like that. People who joined it either became devoted servants of the order and executors of the will of the Teacher-Abbot, or received their dose of the coveted powder.

Gideon was brought to the order from an orphanage, just like Vahe, Tikhon entered training two years earlier, but he was no longer a child, he turned seventeen on the day he crossed the border of the special unit. All of them passed the second stage of verification, and entered the location of the occult community, where they actively developed their innate abilities, receiving dosed primordial knowledge of their ancestors. Even Bartholomew did not have complete information about the manuscripts hidden by the priesthood; he was far from being in the first ranks of those who were close to the first circle, the guardians of the power of knowledge. The structure that was created many thousands of years ago has grown throughout the Earth, and controlled all structures and processes. Bartholomew was one of the lower layers of this structure, so he had only limited access to the archive, but this knowledge was enough to stand alone against a small country. Bartholomew was feared by all his subordinates, but not because of the poison that was always with him. He had such an inner strength that every native of the community, having a special sensitivity, understood and was very well aware of what this person is capable of.

In the entire history of the order, there were only a few attempts to terminate relations with it by adherents. But all of them ended dramatically. All, except one, who put the hope of salvation to the children elected to the orders. Tikhon became such a person. Before he left, he left a scar on the Abbot's face. Novices said that the human hand could not leave such a scar, that the imprint on Bartholomew's face was the punishment of the higher hierarchs who supervised everyone who set foot on the path of the power of knowledge. This, in turn, indicated that Tikhon had outgrown the Teacher. However, this was only talk.

***

– How did you manage to get out of the clan? Gideon reasoned to himself, remembering the pioneer in this matter – Tikhon.

The guy rented a dilapidated house on the outskirts of the city. He could afford to rent a decent apartment and even a princely mansion, but preferred a modest lifestyle. His arrival in the city was due to the fact that with new knowledge, strength and honed skill to put an end to the Order of the Black Hand. And this step was only the beginning of his outlined mission.

Gideon lay in the middle of the floor, comparing the facts of events during his stay in the order, preparing a plan to eliminate the Abbot-Bartholomew and regretted that his meeting with Tikhon never took place.

A knock on the door distracted him from his thoughts.

– Zoe? At home? Open it! I have a train in two hours, and I have a message for you…

Gideon opened the door and saw an astonished girl standing on the threshold.

"I'm sorry," she said slowly, " but who are you?"

"You must be going to see Zoya Petrovna." the guy asked.

"Yes, I'm Tanya, her niece, and you are…

"I'm shooting here, Gideon.

The guy nodded affably.

– A… So she had rented out her place after all… Where is she now? Do you know how I can find her?

– The hostess said that she needs to go somewhere for two weeks, promised to visit on arrival, to see how everything is here, and until then, the neighbors were told to keep an eye on. There they go, spies, – the guy with a share of humor nodded in the direction of the two grannies staring in their direction.

The girl turned and giggled:

– Yes, it's like a village. Every step of the way. And news travels instantly.

"Did you have something to say?"

– My mother gave me gifts for my sister, I came to the city on business, so I managed to stop by my aunt just now. But how am I now?..

"Give me your packages, if you're not afraid," Gideon said kindly.

"What's there to be afraid of?" "there are four jars of jam here." You can't eat them all, and even so, you can't take them back! And so the whole day with these banks dragged, already the shoulder falls off.

"Come in, catch your breath for an hour, I'll put the tea on, it's not far from the station, you'll be there in thirty or forty minutes, so you have an hour to spare."

The guy opened the door wider and made a welcoming gesture inviting you to enter.

The girl curtsied, and without fear, not an ounce, slipped into the hut, relieved to throw the bag off her shoulder.

"What did you say your name was?" Gideon?

"Are we on the' you ' yet?" Nothing, I don't mind. That's right, that's my name.

– Unusual name. Rare, I'd say.

The girl did not hide her sympathy, moreover, she showed her interest in the guy in every possible way. Her facial expressions and gestures suggested that she would not mind spending this hour not drinking tea, but doing something more interesting.

The unbuttoned top buttons of her blouse, the languid look, and the vulgar pose on the sofa were used.

– I heard that girls from rural areas are easier to relate to the issue of intimacy, but I did not think that it all happens this way! – calmly replied the guy, engaged in the tea ceremony.

"What's there to think about?" You try it! I'm not a very modest girl, it's true, but I think you won't regret it. You don't seem to be in a hurry either. We're adults, why all this preludes and talk about nothing around the Bush? I can see that you liked me, you are also very good, so why are we wasting time? Can we start now?

The girl undid a few more buttons on her blouse, the section of her lush chest did not pass by the guy's eyes.

"You're making sense, Victoria," the guy said, looking away and pouring out the tea that had been boiled before the girl arrived, as if on purpose.

The seductress's face changed.

– You probably didn't hear, my name is Tanya! "no," she said sternly. – And remember, girls are very sensitive to being called other people's names!

The guy turned around, brought two cups of tea and put them on the table next to the girl who was watching his silence with disgust.

Gideon sat down opposite her, smiled, and said:

"You're very good, that's right, and I'm not talking about the figure.

"You don't understand?"

– You are holding up well, I say, with experience, you can immediately see. But that's not clear than you have angered the clan, once they're donated…

The girl's eyes flashed fiercely. Gideon continued:

"I know who you are, Victoria. Exactly Victoria. That's the name your mother gave you at birth, but you don't remember it. Since your foster parents showed up, you've been called Tatiana, but that's not your real name.

"What are you talking about?" – What is the name? What kind of mother? Aren't you all at home? I think I'd better go!

The girl tried to get up quickly, but suddenly froze in motion and in a kind of constrained state sank back on the sofa.

"I'll finish it, if you'll let me," the boy continued, giving no sign of action at all. – I know that Zoya Petrovna doesn't have a niece. I also know why you came to this house and who sent you here. By the way, the jam is really delicious in those banks that you brought, do not worry that you overpaid for it from local saleswomen.

The girl could not move or say a word, but she looked at her bag of jam jars, which she had actually bought for an excuse to enter the house. The bag with the false link was closed, and the way Gideon talked about the taste of the contents of what he hadn't tasted impressed her. Up to this point, she had blamed everything else on leaks and clever psychological tricks.

"I can hear your thoughts, dear Victoria. Believe me, you're not as bad a girl as you want to be in the actions of the one who sent you here. You came to denigrate me, and it's nice to know how far you were willing to go for it, loyally, let's say, at a high price, but still having fun.

The girl's gaze changed, and there was an undercurrent of respect in it.

"But I still wonder why they sent you." Either you were sent to your death to get rid of an unnecessary link in the chain, or you are just a decoy…, or both.

Gideon tapped the table with his right hand, and the invisible shackles released the girl. She flexed her stiff joints. At the same time, the Windows in the house rang, and the plaster began to fall off the walls. Machine gun six-guns pierced the house through the length and breadth.

***

Tikhon was packing. He gave the guys-assistants the go-ahead to leave. The next city he planned to visit was three thousand kilometers away.

– Tikhon, I apologize, we here with Andrey all cannot understand in any way, – one of assistants addressed.

"Speak boldly, I won't bite you." The question is about the route, right?

"How?" How do you know? Oh, Yes. Yes. There are at least sixteen localities on the road to the next location. Some of them are quite large. Why don't we play in these areas? On the way, right? People live there too! I understand the esoteric meaning of what you're doing, but isn't volume important in this case?

"Sit down, Lesh," Tikhon said kindly.

The guy sat up, all attention.

"You use logic, and I use knowledge. That's why my actions don't always find an explanation in your head.

"Andryukhina, too," the boy added.

"Andryukhina, too," Tikhon agreed, smiling. – Volume… you see, Alexey, we are not engaged in business, it is important for us not the number of services rendered, but the quality.

– As far as I know, there have never been any complaints about the quality. We see what happens when you play. But still I don't understand how in this case the number can interfere?

– I'm talking about another quality… not about the game.

"I don't understand, sorry?"

– In our business, the structure is very important. We raise the frequencies of people's consciousness and space in a strictly defined direction. This process should not be chaotic.

The guy's expression was blank.

– Well, I will explain on a banal example, – Tikhon answered a silent question. "Imagine you're making jam." Here you have collected the right amount of berries, washed it, poured it into the pan.

– Sugar should be sprinkled then in the right proportion! – Alexey joined the process.

"That's right! Now, you already know that proportion is important. But in addition to the dose, let's call it that, it is also important to constantly stir while the jam is cooking. This is done in order…

– So that the sugar is evenly distributed and that it does not burn!

– Great! You know. In our case, the situation is similar. If we pour all the sugar into only one part of the pan, and do not stir-the jam will not work. Sour and what is left without sugar and throw out what will be candied to the point of absurdity. In jam, as in any other process of creation, a certain distribution of sugar particles between the berry particles is important. This order of strict correspondence between atoms and particles is maintained everywhere on Earth. And not only on Earth.

"I wonder if you can tell me."

– No, Lesh, maybe another time. Go get ready, we'll leave tomorrow.

The guy bowed and left. But just a few seconds later he returned.

"Forgot something?"

– Still… if I may…

"Well?"

– Your performances do not support the form of voluntary payment for listening. People don't throw money at you. What funds do you use to pay us? What do you live on?

Tikhon smiled slyly. The guy looked confused.

"Let it be my little secret. By the way, what about the payment? Enough money?

– No, that's fine. More than enough. We do not know where to spend the accumulated funds.

"I think you can sort this out somehow," Tikhon said cheerfully.

– Let's see, spending is not earning. Okay, tomorrow is tomorrow. We'll get ready.

The guy went out. Tikhon took a map from the tube, unfolded it, and, finding his place of residence on it, circled the city in a circle. There were already many such circles on the map. These encircled the city has formed a certain network in a strictly proportional conformity.

The drummer rolled up the map, put it in the tube, took out a dusty bag, looked into it, and emptied the contents. Several bills fell on the table.

"We need to replenish our supplies."

He took one of the bills, looked at it carefully, and put it in his bag. Then he did the same with the other bills. When I put the last one in, the bag was full of cash. Money somehow mysteriously multiplied hundreds of times.

"Having fun?" a pleasant, velvety voice came from the corner of the room.

Tikhon smiled, recognized the visitor, and answered without turning around:

"It's been a long time, Isaiah…

***

Gunmen in black masks, with the words "OMON" on their uniforms, cautiously began to approach the house, which was riddled up and down. The neighbors fled in terror to their homes and hid in distant rooms. Such events have never been seen in this suburb of the city before. Riot police surrounded the house from all sides, two people got inside through broken Windows, three more broke into the door. There were shouts and shots inside, but after a minute everything was quiet. A special forces soldier appeared in the doorway and shouted:

"Empty! They left.

"How did they leave?" They were here a minute ago, I could clearly hear them through the transmitter! "Yes," said one of the men, who seemed to be the leader.

"The transmitter is here, but they are not," said another soldier, who appeared in the doorway. In his hands was a girl's clothing with a beacon embedded in it.

***

The girl was pounding on a nervous basis. A small tremor had not left her naked body for a quarter of an hour. Gideon bathed in the pond, glancing from time to time at the shivering "friend" whose hair was dripping with water.

– Yeah… the water is cool today, you're right. But it was necessary to take a dip, especially for you.

"What's that?" the girl stammered and trembled.

– Victoria, honey, I want to wish you a happy birthday, unscheduled, let's call it that. Accept your real name as a gift. Make new documents, this is not a problem, but I'm sorry for things, there was no time to pull out the transmitter. But I can offer you my shirt, it is quite long, and what is especially nice – without a beacon.

The girl cast a quick, wary glance in Gideon's direction. He smiled and continued:

– There is a village a few kilometers away, we will get some clothes for you there, don't worry.

– Cccac TTY Etto sdelal?

"In your order, students are not allowed to learn the technique of moving through space. Although Bartholomew himself and several of his associates possess it perfectly. Here you go!

The guy got out on the Bank and handed the girl his shirt.

– It's warm, you'll warm up quickly. I'd like a hot Cup of tea right now. Sorry I didn't have time to grab the cups and teapot, it would have been very useful.

– Mmmy ctto teleportirovat?

The girl looked around, touched the grass, her hands, her feet. Then quickly threw on a shirt, and calmed down a little, quietly said:

"So that's how it works…

"Not always. There are several techniques for moving. In this case, it was wise to use this one.

***

The sun was beginning to set. A girl in a shirt walked silently across the endless fields, Gideon at her side. His face shone with true joy, and it was evident to the naked eye that this man's heart was in love.

Several times he looked cautiously at the girl in surprise, as if reading an interesting question in her mind, but then quickly turned away and continued on his way as if nothing had happened.

When the girl, once again, by her inner reasoning and the silent murmur of her lips, caused an interesting look from the fellow-traveller, Gideon suddenly said:

– Yeah…, I also love the poems of this poetess.

These words hit the girl like boiling water on the back. She started, and fixed a shrewd glance on her companion.

"Good poems, aren't they?" And the situation has… harmony, " Gideon said.

"So you're also a mind reader?" Who the hell are you?

– These poems, like many others, were written by a beautiful, bright woman.

Victoria, with a look, insisted on her question.

"I introduced myself, Gideon, but that's a narrow view of the world. And in a large-scale sense-your brother. Father we have one – without thinking the guy replied.

– God? the girl quipped.

"That's the one."

"And you believe this nonsense?"

"Which one?"

"That God exists?"

"I can't help believing in him when he's in front of me."..

The girl was slightly taken aback.

"Are you suggesting that I'm a God?"

"And you, too."

"Who else?" You?

– Not only.

"Oh, Yes, and all the other people…

"They are, of course, but they are only a small part of God.

– Wait, you said that we have one father – this is God, and now you say that I am God and you are God. There's a discrepancy in your hypothesis, buddy.

– There is no discrepancy. One does not contradict the other, moreover, it complements it. The only question is that words, of any language – are very trivial in the matter of conveying the truth. Therefore, when transmitting information from the source to the addressee through the word, the picture is often greatly distorted.

– Wiggled. So, okay, let's go on, so we're all just a small part of God? Who are the others? Aliens? Are you saying they're there, too? I've never met one.

"That's not true, you've met a lot of visitors from other constellations and even from neighboring universes in your life. Another question is that they do not seek to give themselves away, so they appear before the earthlings in their usual image.

"Them?" Don't you consider yourself an earth person?

"Let's just say I'm a "man of the world." Don't take it literally, because it won't be quite right. If you, when you say God, mean a bearded old man on one of the clouds-then of course this is fiction and in this case you can say that there is no God. But in fact, there is only an illusion about God, however, that there is an illusion… This is an extensive topic, and we can talk about it some other time. God is all that surrounds us. Everything visible and invisible. The one who created all this, who is all this. The one who manifests himself through all that you can feel, breathe, touch, see, understand, comprehend and create, just like The one you are a part of.

The girl looked at Gideon thoughtfully, then suddenly said:

"So you're saying my real name is Victoria?"

– Yeah.

"How do you know all this?"

"I was once a member of the order of the Black hand, and you know that special people are accepted there.

"I found out about the order not so long ago. I'm not one of the chosen ones you're talking about. I met Bartholomew by chance. I was his for a while… girl.

– A strong old man, I admire his desire to live in all its manifestations.

"Old man?"

– Well, Yes.

The girl frowned.

"Do you know how old he is?" Gideon asked.

I asked several times, but each time he evaded the question. I think he's in his early fifties, but he looks forty-two. I know what you're thinking, I was only thirty-four a week ago, but I was really interested in him. Maybe I even loved him. I don't know why he treated me like this.

"It doesn't take a reason for Bartholomew to send a man to his death, but still, I think you just got too close to him at a certain point and learned more than you should have."

"I found out about the order a few days ago, not from him.

"Well, that's the answer.

"But he doesn't know anything."

"Bartholomew is a very difficult man, Victoria. And, I'll slightly disappoint you, he's not in his early fifties, he's in his early hundreds!

"I don't believe it!"

"One hundred and thirty-seven years, to be exact."