On the observation of evil and the escapism of oneiromancy

Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

The outskirts of Irvind were met with rare groves of some hybrids of cypresses and fir trees. Seriously, that's how the train crossed the bridge, and that's how it started. They stick out such tall green candles. Belkin was already, as they say, sitting on suitcases. Except he didn't have a suitcase, he had a homemade duffel bag from an old jumpsuit. There was a flask. First aid kit. Lighter. There were shoes and a knife left from the last time. And one of the pistols. Now, really, the use of hardware (titans?) there wasn't, he was leaving them in a «backpack». — There will be a turn soon, — Bon Voyage said. — Get ready. — Yeah. Do I have to stomp for a long time? — For a long time. But no one will be there, don't worry. The gardens are all very far away from the path, so that the fruits do not smell like coal smoke. — Some rabid youth? Animals? — No. Sandworms are all in San Palomino and Bone Dry. And the foals are fooling closer to the city. Someone puts the lid of a bottle of baby cider on the rails, someone clings to a freight wagon. — I see. Some of them clearly have extra legs. — Oh, Sisters! Valentine, your humor... Although, it's not my business to be outraged. — Where are you going to meet me? — Where it works. I'll arrange for the luggage and meet you halfway. Just stay on the sleepers. You don't have to worry about trains, nothing will pass after you, except, perhaps, a trolley from the nearest station. And you will see an oncoming train with coal and a shift. — And those on the trolley that... — I do not know, — The unicorn replied plaintively.

***

The door let in a noise and a knock. There was a smell of smoke and wood resin. I looked, chose an approaching stone I liked near a low embankment and jumped off. I rolled over, painfully «running over» the barrels in the «backpack». I stood up and looked up. The blue of the sky was layered, but it was in no hurry to part. Is it harder to return during the day? There was a fear that the Guards or locals with pitchforks and guns would meet me along with the Voyage, but I forced myself to forget about it. This Bon Voyage is not the right character. He's on his own mind, but this sharpness pushes him to do strange things, like getting to know an incomprehensible dog-squirrel hybrid. It's easier that way. You never know where and under what circumstances you will have to cross paths. Today he helps you, and the day after tomorrow you'll cover his ass. That's the kind of hat friendship magic. He put his shoulder up, exchanged a couple of phrases, and they ran away again. And they forgot about each other until the next random time. Somehow, such a «friendship» is clearer to me, than the importunity and the desire to climb without soap in the a... into the soul. Or some kind of «friendliness» of a mimicking insect reptile with a cooked axe. Although, I'm talking about ponies. There will be no axe. Overdose of sleeping pills in food, followed by running around the walls in the style of «oh, I didn't want to, where should I put the corpse now?» — easily. Quietly lock me in a hotel room and call the guards or the sheriff? That's not a good thing to do either. But recent events have shown that ponies in the mass can hardly defend themselves even from filth with very clear intentions. They get scared. They fall into a stupor or a fussy panic. So, the whole risk of dying here is either from «we didn't know» or from a drunken prank. Well, the crowd effect with another «stop the thief!» is dangerous. That Clementine clearly wanted to pull something like this off. But was her mother «in business», or was it her daughter's «art»? Like, her mother forbade her to go to night gatherings with stallions who have an excess of sperm with pimples, and the offended «already adult and independent» mare (in every sense) decided to «take revenge» by throwing problems with the guest. Sheriff's visit, proceedings, nerves... And that the stranger is dead, so well and good. He's already paid for the room, hasn't he? Damn, something is taking me the wrong way. While I was talking to the unicorn, I was adequate, but here I'm so angry that some kind of changeling will faint. Yes, Valik, you are a fool and a psycho. And that's why you're alive. By the way, we will need to take care of a place for the marker. With one-eyed creatures, if I understood Petrovich's instructions correctly, everything is clear. Fuck such contacts. If the first case was still open to interpretation, then the second... no, I'm not Isaac Clark. Fuck you! Fight for yourself. I actually had a task to look at it. But it didn't work out. Or rather, it almost turned out to look like that, that I almost threw up my brain. Maybe I should have come back right away, but damn, the marker... And they're dragging me out with a delay. You never know. Okay, good to reflect. I have to go. It was pleasant to walk in the relative chill of the «winter». I was almost full of food and filled with tea. Why not go? My legs, however, will fall off like hell, there are almost fifty fucking kilometers to the shore, but I don't need that much. Voyage, pedal horse, will meet and come up with something. Pony, damn, to jerk a dozen or two «ke-me» is normal. At a light trot, such that you can catch up with a horseradish. But their endurance is very different. Some are two-armed, and most can be driven by the good old savage method of continuous pursuit, if they do not immediately run into places where you will not find them in the daytime with a lantern. So, the locals are falling away. A guard in a flying cart? Well... doubtful. If Bon Voyage did not cheat, then he will come alone and with his tongue on his shoulder.

***

Holy shit! How long have I been walking and raving? In a horse's delirium...

***

What Discord made Celestia order a salad with cheese and scrambled eggs with bacon for breakfast instead of the traditional cake, Discord himself could not say. The princess felt something. She grimaced with displeasure, remembering how she had been a witness... Well, officially it was called withdrawal. After which, a pig screeching to the point of pain in its ears, with fresh scars on its sides that had just been mended and treated with magic and bulging eyes, flew out of the gate, losing manure and the remnants of an already small mind. Okay, there's nothing to grimace about, we need to wait for our sister. Luna, if her instincts and experience did not fail, was already walking down the corridor. It's coming up now. The solar princess dismissed the servants and, while no one is watching, telekinesis put herself a «sector» from the frying pan. It was served like this. A crystal enchanted lid and an ordinary cast-iron black frying pan. «It would be funny, — Celestia thought, — If they were doing something similar somewhere in the house of ordinary ponies». Are doing. Except without the bacon. Cheese? Definitely. Seafood? Yes. Fish? Well, if not to advertise, or if to unicorns and pegasus. Meat? No, meat is only for selected ponies. Thestrals and, of course, alicorns. The doors swung open. — Our Sister! — Luna sniffed it. — Oh! Why would you do that? And by the way, good morning. — Morning... Would you like some refreshment? — Now the pony's dreams were calm, although that doesn't mean anything yet! The preparatory shift also turned out well, I didn't have to force everyone looking at the moon to see it out of place. And how are you with the sun? — Something... prevented. There is a strange phenomenon, as if magical forces are going into the void. I had to cheat a little bit. — You know, — Luna sat down at the table and also telekinetically blasted herself another quarter of the dish, choosing a thick but not quite baked yolk with an orange spot, — The Guards brought me such an interesting report... Celestia watched as her sister pulled out an expensive folder in dark blue velvet and silver from under her wing. Luna casually threw the clerical monster on the edge of the table, dipped the khufs into a bowl for ablutions and, somehow wiping them, began to crumble white bread into a plate in a common way. But then she went back to etiquette. Napkin, fork, blunt knife, that's it... The rising sun flooded the living room, the turquoise walls flashed. The castle was quite high up, and the morning in it began a little earlier than in the whole of Canterlot. — Will you let me read it? — Celestia glanced out the window and grimaced. Today, with the ignition of dawn, it turned out somehow crookedly. It seems to be already light, but the sun has not yet been seen. And then suddenly the magic works when the Solar Princess has already left for breakfast, spitting on both calendars, which are for ponies, and which are astronomical, real. — Just a second! — Luna picked up a piece of yolk-smeared bread on her fork, waiting for something. — Are we changing? At that moment, the half of the door opened timidly. The guardsman. A scroll with a seal hovers in the telekinetic field. — Oh, let's hurry up! — Celestia smiled at the horned white stallion in a gilded cuirass and a parody of a helmet and took the scroll. — Thank you, you are free... The stallion stamped his hind leg with a simultaneous bow and nod. He disappeared through the door. — Hmm... interesting, — Celestia read the scroll quickly but carefully, rolling it out on the table without hoof magic. — I think we'll switch. She handed the scroll to Luna, accepting the folder in return. They didn't use telekinesis once again, so that bread crumbs wouldn't fly off their plates and sugar wouldn't electrify, otherwise you wouldn't shake it all out of a porcelain spoon. And anyway, after someone from the aristocracy blurted out that excessive magic at the table spoils the taste of dishes... She probably didn't spoil anything, but check it out! You can only worry about this suspiciousness, whether everything is right with the food. Moreover, earlier, in ancient times, noble unicorns tested all dishes with magic for poison. And nothing, the taste did not change. But the dirty trick was said and heard. Telekinesis at the Sister's table was limited if... Well, yes, magic obviously didn't change the taste of scrambled eggs. After paying tribute to the food, both princesses waited for tea. — Wow! No diuretic today, — Luna said thoughtfully, taking a sip and quickly conjuring up a check. — I thought you'd throw more. Celestia flinched slightly, but smiled: — If a joke fails, it's bad form to repeat it, isn't it? — Griffins used to practice slow accumulating poisons in their bodies... And unicorns, — Luna also smiled, but coldly, since she smiled at her memories from those times that no one wanted to remember, — Tried to make multicomponent muck with magical activation. However, nothing really worked out... — Exactly, — Celestia's voice took on a crystal hue. — But in a thousand years!.. Or am I worrying for nothing? — You're worrying for nothing, Lulu, — The Solar Princess said with an unreadable expression on her face. — Absolutely in vain. You know I've never... — It's easy to play too much, — Luna replied almost in a whisper. — Very easy. But let's get back to breakfast and business. And I'll go to bed if I can. Perhaps Celestia would lock herself in her chambers for a few minutes during the day and cry. It is possible that he will just be offended by his sister. Yeah, let him take offense at himself. For a thousand years, Celestia has radically weaned herself from counter jokes and retaliatory insults disguised as small talk. There was no one who dared. Who would be strong enough. Who was also an alicorn. Chrysalis? She is young, and she has her own affairs. And after Celestia came off on a leaky mare for losing a wedding dispute... and that's it, actually. The same ponies that didn't put their lives on the line or got addicted to the taste of danger somehow ended up. And for a long time. The report brought by the Night Princess contained strange information about a surge of fear on the way from Applusa to Hunters. Like, something happened to the locomotive there. The Night Watch patrol took off from Dodge City, but did not arrive until noon. They found a damaged arrow mechanism with traces of repair on a fast hoof, a lot of pony tracks in the sand, already being mashed by the wind, and a wide strip, as if something big was being dragged towards the forest. To the territory of arimaspi. The rest was in small things: a couple of puddles, sorry, dried vomit, a hastily splashed manure tank from the wagon in the appropriate place... What else? The footprint of the bot for the hind hooves that the machinists wear, imprinted on a piece of dried shit? A smeared paper napkin? Candy wrappers against motion sickness? Or the casings? Casings for a lightweight rifle, possibly a revolver. Not from the fitting, thank Heaven. — Don't tell me that someone decided to rob the train, — Celestia got bored, wondering what she would do with these ponies. And especially not with a pony, but who is so nimble there... It's only recently that she weaned the bison from these cases! Apparently, they don't understand kindly. But what else are the traces of unknown magic? How can magic be unknown at all? You may not know the spells, but can't you guess the main notes used? Or can thestrals, unlike unicorns, rely only on amulets? How are the pegasi? Celestia had a bad idea of what batponies might or might not do there. She couldn't recruit a spy. And you can't just recruit him among those who have been waiting for their Mistress for a thousand years. And, again, she doesn't want to offend Luna. And so it is with this tea... The report delivered by the unicorn contained nonsense. Allegedly, a train full of terrified passengers arrived in Irvind yesterday, and the train arrived a little ahead of time, as if they had missed one stop and were frantically getting coal and water at the next, where they came by economic means. However, Luna overlooked this paragraph obliquely, she did not understand steam locomotives and considered it beneath her dignity, although she appreciated the work of machinists, mechanics and other railway ponies. The Night Princess managed to evaluate the opportunity to get somewhere with luggage quickly enough without spending magic and physical strength, as well as the opportunity to get dimensional things in an acceptable time without a pegasus unicorn leapfrog with these levitating crystals and air carts. — Now that's interesting, — Luna frowned. — It is reported that Arimaspi was hit by a train. Can you imagine? — I can imagine anything, — Celestia kept thinking back to the casings, — But it won't necessarily exist. And about arimaspi... — So imagine it, Sister! So this monkey-goat came out of the forest, decided that the locomotive whistle was a challenge to a duel, — The Night Princess chuckled. — Well? Will you send the Keepers to explain to the one-eyed scarecrow that you need to be friends with ponies and not butt heads with trains? — I'm afraid not. And the Keepers will have to be involved, — Celestia recalled something. — Besides the fact that the Arimaspi do not make contact, they simply ignore life itself outside their forests and mountains, so two or three hundred years ago there was something. At that time, I favored the expansion of borders, and immediately after Applusa... I don't want to remember this abomination. I overlooked it. And since then, I have been too nervous about the various kinds of political independence of my little ponies. — What do you suggest? — We'll take the airship and go, — Celestia grimaced, because the work schedule was flying up Discord's ass. — And also... — Yes, Sister? — Luna looked into Celestia's eyes. A duel of the gods, damn it. — Even though you're a scary retrograde, but some of your new toys... Well, with steam trains... — The dug-out train will be ready for the campaign today! — Luna rose proudly. The cups clinked. — Great. Let them go to the scene of the accident. We'll take a look from above. And try not to show dislike for the Keepers, they will fly with us.

***

The magical apparatus crackled and twitched, swallowing the tape from the reel and spitting it out already chewed, with holes from small needle teeth. The edges of the holes were shaggy and strewn with paper dust. The unicorn pony, disheveled and covered in this cellulose dandruff, tore off the ribbon, ran his eyes over it in a daze, whispering the decoding to himself, and galloped off at a three-legged gallop, raising the paper strip above his head. It would be better to «primagnetize» the horn, idiot. It wasn't far to run. — Your Highnesses! The unicorn was «nodded» with eyelashes and smiled sparingly. — Here! — The ribbon? From the machine? — Luna glanced at her subject a little from under her brows. — We have just been informed that an urgent message has been received from the city of Irvind and recorded! — The unicorn squinted at the deck, which trembled slightly under his feet. — And we have already... — Let them find a suitable pegasus or thestral and demand that the envelope be delivered on board, — Celestia reassured the unicorn. — You can tap it with your device, right? And don't forget to mention that this is a request from the diarchs. Lulu? Instead of answering, Luna quickly conjured something from outside the airship. Apparently, without bothering to draw complex patterns in the horseshoes of the Equestrian alphabet, she gave out a very schematic outline of the envelope. The pony sped off. — Luna, — Celestia called softly. — What? — There are so many huge bags of natural gas above us that not even half of them will fit into the Throne Room. I understand that this is not a water element that seeps through even thrice enchanted fabric, but... — It was on the sidelines and a cold flame. I'm not eager either, — Luna was embarrassed, — Eager to burn. Teleport somewhere away from the shaggy bonfire in the sky. The wings are singed, magic will have to soften the impact on roofs or pavement. She can have time to take someone wingless with her or throw pegasus out, shout to her sister to also be transported overboard and away. And will the screams of those who could not be pulled out by magic be heard through the roar of the flames? And dark spots overtaking an airship devoured by flames in the fall. The wreckage? Pony bodies? Apparently, the picture came to the minds of both princesses at the same time. The alicorns shuddered. It's also good that they can make a fairly durable and difficult-to-burn multilayer outer shell, and remove excess weight with crystals of incredible size and the same incredible cost. And then, as it has already happened once or twice... Br-r-r! Luna didn't find such times, she was in exile, but Celestia even wanted to ban everything more complicated than a thermal balloon. She came to her senses in time. A cunning connection with Zebrabwe, when the «tribute collectors» hiding among the islands of Evenchain could only powerlessly shake their weapons on the decks and pour juicy curses, and the successful process of «dissuading» the moose from Heilberg from the conflict, who took it into their head clouded with fly agarics that Sweet-Acorn-Orchard — acorns are fruits? Seriously? — belongs to the moose according to some ancient legend. They would have demanded Sears Hollow back! Like, it's a moose sacred place and all that. In general, the airships came in handy. That steam, that galley type, when the entire crew and all passengers pushed the pedal boards with their hind legs so that the screws rotated. True, these pony-drawn things turned out to be in demand only as observation or entertainment machines, but there was a technical curiosity. The descendant of those airships now carried the diarchs in his womb. A white air giant with golden patterns and blue ornamental lines let the roofs of the suburbs of Canterlot pass under it. Screws snorted and rumbled, carried out on laced fabric laced trusses. Belt drives howled and rustled. The steam engine puffed, the furnaces devoured the earthen oil. Canvas rudders and fins guided the flight of the giant. Both guns are raised to a horizontal position and facing the course. The shells used were the most ordinary, from a light field gun. But the barrels were made by special order. Long, so that the increased charge of gunpowder could burn out, thin, so that the ship was a celestial ship, not a water one (landing on water, however, was provided for), with longitudinal ribs, so that they cooled better and did not curl or sag from heating. Pegasus was found with commendable speed. And with such commendable speed, this pegasus flew into the aft area. The rear propeller was not yet engaged, and the average winged pony could catch up with a flying ship, if not easily, then without straining. Rainbow Dash couldn't catch up with the ship at full speed either. Or rather, she could, with her speed of a wandering falcon in a dash, but she wouldn't have had time before she ran out of steam. The airships didn't fly the fastest, they just knew how to keep moving for a long time. So are the trains. And the Celestia airship, which has smooth narrowing of the balloon to the nose and tail instead of the traditional shape, as if balloons were stuffed into a bag, and even with a narrowed stern, and with a closed deck, was something incredible at all. Add to this a rotary steam engine of low mass and almost locomotive power, the already mentioned unloading crystals on the bottom, and you get a masterpiece of mago-engineering! The incredible level demonstrated to other species and peoples! What, Night Princess, do you remember this snow-golden miracle seen in a dream of some pony with huge gills, a swallow's tail and a white fluffy trail at an unattainable height? Remember? Are you afraid?

***

Belkin already seriously thought that something unforeseen had happened. The evening painted the green cones of the fir-cypress trees first blue-green, then they became almost black against the background of the sunset turning purple, the sleepers were lost in the twilight and hit his legs when he forgot to look at his feet, and still there was no Bon Voyage. There were no oncoming trains either, as if they decided to interrupt the message for now. Belkin had already managed to hear a thin ringing from the canvas against the background of rampaging cicadas or something similar, when a light barely blinked ahead. The building? No, the light was swaying slightly, if at that distance you can understand something. Valentine left the road to the bushes he liked. Also some kind of cypress thickets. As long as the ticks don't stick to him. What if they're here too? Now the light of a lantern on the other side of the tracks began to tremble. It's either acetylene or some kind of local magic. The trolley rolled with a soft squeal. Ponies alternately pressed on the rocker arm, spat on the embankment, someone had a smoldering pipe. Belkin remembered something about horses and nicotine, but Equestrian ponies were not completely horses. Yeah, it doesn't kill them, it just tears off their legs. The squirrel dog climbed onto the path and followed the trolley. He had already decided that he would continue to stomp to the city when the light blinked again on the left side. The warm yellow-orange light of a kerosene lamp. Close. The light silhouette of a unicorn emerged from the misty gloom. In general, the evening in this too regular woodland was something picturesque and unreal. The blurriness of the fog and the almost evenly protruding cones of the trees. The grass is relatively short and tough, autumnal (by local standards, winter was beginning, but there was no cold yet, and the daylight did not decrease, which hinted at an ellipse of the orbit). In the light of the flame, the pony looked somehow creamy, like the scorched surface of the «Alaska» dessert. The mane has acquired the color of a red orange from blood. And the eyes. — Voyage. — Oh, I thought I'd knock all my legs off, — The unicorn raised the lamp higher. — I already wanted to go back. — I thought you couldn't come. Anything can happen. — I could, — The unicorn hung the lamp in the air with telekinesis, which made it flicker and smoke, he had to intercept it with his other foot. — Give it here, my upper limbs are free. — Eh? Here you are. I was already getting tired, — The unicorn said happily, handing over the lamp. — Those on the trolley who didn't see you? — No. And even if they did, what did they care about the lamp? Well, someone is walking. Maybe he's picking mushrooms. — Yeah. In the evening. To go back with mushrooms at night. Or are these some special mushrooms that you can sit down in a cozy cell to collect? — Well, then I don't know. Come up with something yourself, this walk is making my head spin. Bon Voyage suddenly reared up and walked on its hind legs. He grunted: — I should have taken the hoarders, but I just put on my boots. I hoped... — I also did not realize that I would have to walk so much. We'll probably only get there in the morning. — I'm already hungry, — The unicorn said sadly. — Likewise, — The squirrel dog replied and shook the flask. — Eat water and drink water! You will never shit! Would you like to? — I will not refuse, — The unicorn accepted the flask, without betraying his dissatisfaction with the successful translation of the foreign obscenity. They were silent. — Voyage? — Yes, Valentine? — The unicorn was walking on its hind legs, holding the flask with its front legs. His gait did not resemble the ridiculous galloping steps of a rearing horse, it was the beautiful, albeit a little uncertain, tread of a reasonable humanized cat from some old Soviet cartoon. Not Disney with its rubber jumps and antics. — I can't understand everything... Aren't you disgusted? Well, you're messing with some alien, drinking from his flask... what if I'm sick of something? — It's too late to catch on. Again, aren't you afraid to be near a creature that has more supporting limbs? — The unicorn waved the flask and gave it to Valentine. By the way, for some reason he twisted the cork not with magic, but with hoof. — Somehow there is no choice. And you haven't hurt me yet. It doesn't depend on how many limbs are used for walking, does it? — Will you forgive me for using you as a jar of black sand? — Bon Voyage demonstrated another feature of some ponies: he could not find a place for himself if he thought that he was not forgiven. But it was a feature of some ponies. Very rare indeed. — I forgot. By the way, it's better that way than that thing would have pulled the train off the tracks. — Arimaspi? Yeah... I didn't look at it this time, but last time... I almost threw up. — And I vomited without hesitation, — Said the squirrel dog with the same intonation of a janitor, to whom the territory was spat on and also littered around. — As I saw this fringe of worms on the one-eyed goat, so did... — Valentine! — Bon Voyage even stopped and stamped his foot. — Did you have to say that? — I'm sorry. — Hmm... The lights of the city were flashing ahead. The sunset was ablaze. Clouds were piled up in layers. Low, shallow and unnaturally dense, which are almost always only over land and only if there is a certain level of magic in the air, and at familiar heights, are already common, which pegasi do not walk on. It seemed that the magic clouds had been gathered in a pile for tomorrow. Like, let the night stand. The magical origin also gave away the fact that the cloud trifle was not blown away by the wind. Or almost didn't deflate. After all, Irvind is a seaside town, it should blow regularly. The houses began. It was impossible to see the real colors under the gradient of the evening sky, so the bright and even spots of the walls. Interesting, if the roofs are made of roofing iron or tiled? It's not clear yet. Tiled tiles are more durable and do not require metal, but what about hurricanes? And it is necessary to burn the tiles somehow. Valentine found himself thinking about extraneous nonsense again. Contrary to expectations, the Voyage, which allowed the forelimbs to rest and fell back on all legs, led the squirrel dog in circles and not to the sea. In some places, not even in the backyard, but in general, on the border of the wasteland, there was a two- or three-story building, depending on how to count the attic. The same white or bleached stone, stylized paper snowflakes on the windows, only not from white paper, but from the pages of some magazines, a constantly recurring motif in the form of an arch made up of stone circles with three flames under it on various decorations. By the way, there are tiles on the roof. — Well, they're already getting ready. I also booked the room by telegram, I thought maybe they would give me a discount? But apparently we're early. The hype hasn't started yet. Or the combination of the number of guests and the hotels in the neighborhood is not the same. — They will raise the price in a villainous way, make a discount so that the result turns out to be a little more expensive than what it was... — Valentine! — Bon Voyage stopped abruptly again and snorted angrily. — That's what kind of creature you are! But you're right. These can. — So we'll find out. Should I work off a dumb diamond dog? — Mm-hmm... no. Will you be able to play a highly paid specialist with a narrow outlook and an ineradicable contempt for someone else's culture? Although, how can one's horizons be narrow? Isn't he in a circle? Well, you get it. — He talks with an important air about something unknown to him, and he makes mistakes in Equestrian? — Hm. Perhaps. Can you draw something? — You... What am I portraying? Wild country! Wild state government apparatus! Ain primitivismus! Kayne civilization! Varum is staring at a certain pony-mare zich auf mih? Und wink! I am not a pony! She wants to be killed by mih tsu! Zu robberleiten und das geld naglische spizdung machen! A dog barked offensively somewhere not very far away. Not the frenzied barking of a village bitch, in which every passing tractor or truck encroaches on her territory and a bone in a bowl, but a dissatisfied demanding and abusive bark, as if the dog understood at least half of what was said and was offended for the owners. Well, she could hear, dogs have sensitive hearing, but understand? However, animals in Equestria, according to the same Voyage, are semi-intelligent. Yes, not all of them. But quite a few. This factor also had to be taken into account. Otherwise, some cat will turn you over to the Guards. And the dog in the port city has heard a lot of things. — Very convincing, — Said the unicorn seriously. — Not in such quantities, please. And even though I don't like violence in general and fights in particular, but... — Did you want to punch me in my insolent and arrogant face? — Yes... I'm sorry... If it were suddenly and from an unknown being... Everything inside was boiling right now. Are you sure you don't have any Special Talent? Or relatives among the griffins of the old school? — Not both times. And I will try not to bring it to a bad point. Shall we go? — Belkin smiled eerily in the light of the windows (he put out the lamp), like a monster wanting to break into a quiet family dinner, and «returned the pitch». — You don't like violence and have chosen a quiet job? — Everything is difficult with work. It's almost a calling, the call of a cutie mark, backed up by my Special Talent. — Do you know how to do something beyond ordinary magic? Although, there is no ordinary magic for me. Everything is unusual. — No. My talent concerns anticipating the effect of household spells on an unsuitable object. Or it could be the use of a side effect of a complex sorcery that has not worked. — It's difficult for you. Already inside, it became clear why the unicorn decided to put Belkin in a different role. The paired rooms with the inner door ended, as witnessed by the empty key hooks behind the glass. There was a double room (already booked for Voyage), large multi-bed rooms with partial filling or tiny single rooms of the «coffin with a window» system. Bon Voyage did not want to leave the squirrel dog unattended, tired of being alone, at the same time afraid to sleep with other ponies in the same room (and with alien crap, everything is fine) and wanted comfort. But if the servants are kept nearby, it is not in the same room where the gentlemen themselves deign to rest. And there are no more rooms for two, as already mentioned. The way the unicorn was barely noticeably embarrassed when the pony administrator smiled at him made it possible to remove suspicion of the stallion's unconventional orientation. He was just constantly in some kind of fear, but the usual expectation of a businesslike panic, like an urban guerrilla skillfully but nervously looking out of a window. And he suppressed this feeling with comfort. Not persecution mania, but the assumption of it. — Voyage? — Yes, Valentine? — The unicorn was distracted from digging in the bag. The trunk was already in the room, as were some of the things stowed away on the shelves in the closet. — I understand that you are tired not... But then... Can you promise me something? — And what is it? — The pony shifted its hind legs nervously. — You'll need to rest. Go to the bar and have a few drinks. Just a little bit, for looseness. The girls are looking at you. That young maid, that receptionist. And there might be someone in the bar. Do you have a sweetheart? — N-no... She was... I mean, she still is, but she's not my Special Pony. I couldn't tell her what I was doing. And she trusts Celestia too much. More than my own eyes and ears. And brains. S-sorry... — Is it a difficult topic? Hm. Let's go have dinner if we have somewhere to go. Otherwise, it will soon turn into an early breakfast. — There is one here. Down below. I found out that they work almost around the clock, with breaks. — I didn't see it. — In the basement. Do you have any phobias? — Not yet. — Good. And then some ponies... well, let's not talk about unpleasant things. Do you have any other clothes? — No. I'll have to go in this. — I can try to clean it. I mean, magic. — That would be great. And I would have rinsed myself. — That's fine. Then give me your rag. And don't take a shower for a long time, please. Valentine marveled at the unicorn's lack of fastidiousness once again. Or is it a consequence of the «profession»? Asked. — I noticed it on the train. You are careless about etiquette, but you eat very carefully. And in the wagon toilet... Didn't you wipe the mirror and sink with toilet paper? — What if I'm criminally motivated? — Then you'd have to wipe half the wagon. And to be honest, after cleaning spells, I always want to clean myself. I don't know. It's left over from school. He was standing under the warm running strings of water necklaces. Under the diamond threads flying from the copper perforated shower plate. He was shaking with adrenaline, the feeling of something secret, scary and forbidden. And from caffeine. There was no bathtub in the bathroom. There was a smooth and wide tray on a low pedestal. With a small side. The floor was lowered, and the spilled water could (and did) go into another drain. The depth of the «bath» allowed you to lie down, and a pair of valves connected the supply of warm water through pipes passing through the stone so that it was not cold to lie down. But the young Voyage stood on his hind legs and held on to a ribbed bronze hose. When he let go a little, he peed himself out of relief. The same bitter coffee smell. The base of the horn hurt. These are all multiple cleaning spells on a satchel, shoes and a school vest. Especially on shoes. And the feeling that now you can't wash yourself. From the realization of what they wanted to do to him. And what he did himself. Those two could still have been pulled out of Happy Meadows, big deal, brain damaged. They didn't really need him. But here is an attempt to turn the blood inside the heart into nasty slimy brown flakes... And if it worked out? And if it didn't work out? Like a silent firecracker, the thought burst into her head that for some reason it was advantageous for Celestia to tolerate noble unicorns with such children next to her. They're all in the parents. Celestia wanted the young foals to have different clubheads break their fate, mental health and life itself. She liked it. She was... tacitly encouraging. Apparently, so that the ponies get used to tolerate what they cannot tolerate. And to forget what it is criminal to forget in relation to oneself. «Pretend that nothing happened», — Bon Voyage decided. No one saw him there. No one knows. Or did those precocious, sexually mature jerks wake up and now amicably compose a fairy tale about how an evil sixth grader attacked them? Run away? Where to? And how far will you run? One of the following days at school cost Voyage, probably, a year of his life. When they began to take students to the «interrogation» in «portions». But already nervously trampling on shaky legs in the staff room in the same row with various half-wits who decided that they were adults and had known everything for a long time, the unicorn suddenly realized that it was okay. He was painted in black colors, which leads to the harmful habit of drinking bitter chocolates with strong coffee at such an age, and Bon Voyage suddenly felt calm and cold. They shouted at him: «We will inform the parents immediately!» — and he twisted his face and remembered the insults in order to cry, not to laugh in response. They will inform the parents! It could have turned out that Celestia would be informed of something! The nervous chill turned into an inner chill. And only the desire to clean all your things with magic once again. And take a shower.

***

Bon Voyage didn't say anything even to his school friends. He just didn't have them. He, of course, sometimes huddled with people like him, but somehow without much interest. He had a Dream. Was. Perhaps his silence saved him. But not a Dream.

***

Belkin looked at the ceiling of the semi-basement. Again, these beloved ponies, dim, almost orange lamps (do they resemble flames?), somewhat toy-like furniture in appearance and for some reason oval plates. Ah! Some kind of stuffed zucchini or a relative of cucumber. Hard, bitch, despite the cut peel. Is there shrimp in the filling? But it's edible. It's even delicious if don't notice that jaws are getting tired. And the pony crunches itself, as it should. But the fireplace is real, if you can call it a fireplace. The hearth. Something is being heated, blackened kettles are hanging on hooks. — Voyage, can you do something to talk privately? — Yeah, — The unicorn scooped up something without looking up from chewing. And the presence of a «ferromagic» Belkin did not hurt. Did he do it? Valentine took the result as a slight change in atmospheric pressure. But this is according to his own feelings. He didn't know what it was really like. — So what happened there that you needed my help? — Well... by the way, is it delicious? — The unicorn hesitated. — Yes. Not bad. Although, animal protein might not have been masked with such care. — They also order Earth ponies, and some of them come across... — Not quite adequate? — Exactly. But returning to the dish... — Bon Voyage grimaced. — You do understand that you need to catch shrimps, right? — Yes. They usually suffocate. And before, they were generally brought in tanks with water and thrown into boiling water while still alive! Br-r-r! Now they either keep them in the air for some time among the ice while they are being transported, or they slowly heat the water on the spot. And they die in the process. — Are they intelligent? — Are you kidding? A little smarter than... — Voyage tapped his zucchini with a fork. — Only with legs. — Then what's the problem? — The problem is that someone is messing up the gear. It pulls the stuck shrimp out of the net and tears the cells at the same time. Some kind of animals. Smart enough not to get caught, but animals. — Why animals? — Reasonable people would have extracted the remains of the catch carefully. And I was informed that the networks were broken. — Do we need to find dirty tricks? By the way, is it eaten on the spot, or is the prey being carried away? Will simple magic be the bait? — The squirrel dog sitting opposite Bon Voyage arched an eyebrow sceptically. — I don't know yet. Oh, if only it were that simple. All my experience says that pests should not just be found and driven away. Most often they have to be killed, and massively. Some, uh, unreasonable residents of fields and forests do not perceive the death of a neighbor as something bad. Fewer mouths means more food. — And why should I? I don't know magic, and I don't have any sniffing skills. Well, I can fix the electricity, — The squirrel dog nodded at the ceiling, where a couple of lamps were not lit. — I was just thinking... You see, I might not have the guts. — Kill? — Yes, — Bon Voyage looked away guiltily. — I'll kill some rats. But suddenly... do you know how parasprites defend themselves from an angry farmer, from whom they have already devoured an orchard, worn down trees to the state of bald brooms and overturned a gnawed barn? — And how? — Valentine has already heard about this attack somewhere, but he can't use the information from the cartoon? And so the discrepancies are significant, as between the events and the repeatedly distorted rumors. — They're watching. There is no magic there, they just look at you with huge eyes and smile guiltily. And their friends or relatives are already making extra passages in your house and destroying food supplies. These creatures even open glass jars with canned fruits! Jams, cereals, vegetables in marinade… Fluffy bastards chew through the glass for the sake of the least edible contents! They're even ready to eat fish in oil! I heard a terrible story about how, after tasting smoked pork fat, the little bastards tried to gnaw pigs alive! The pigs, however, ran away, but now go and drive them to the... — Slaughter? — Oh, come on! What kind of slaughter? For withdrawal. Insensitivity on the sides is conjured, incisions are made... Oh, let's not go to the table! Just know that the pig remains alive and almost healthy! Why should she be overweight? Moreover, they tend to jam up their experiences. Belkin was tempted to tell a joke about a pig on prosthetics, but he restrained himself. Although, it would be nice to screw up a jelly. But not here, where pigs are on the verge of intelligence. No. Haram. — I think I understand you. Well, let's see how I can help. But I have a few questions about recent events. — Ask them, — The unicorn looked at the fork, just not to make eye contact with the interlocutor. — But don't expect me to be able to answer exactly. — We were not even witnesses, but participants in strange and terrible things. Let me remind you that I had to kill a pony. It's still a pony and it's not a pony anymore. I shot at a creature that was disgusting by its very appearance. And if everything was clear the first time, then in the second someone will start yelling about «suddenly he wanted to make friends». And you don't give evidence to the local sheriff in order to at least make your participation look innocent and forced, but secretly escort me, that is, a jerk with a gun, to a hotel on the outskirts and are not going to postpone what you came here for. How is that, anyway? — Everything is complicated here... Especially with «make friends». I want to live, actually... — The second question is: when, in fact, will they come for me? — Belkin tried to speak calmly, especially since the unicorn did not show aggression. — I'll start with the second question, if you don't mind. They will come for you when Irvind is filled with guards. Most likely, they will have secret representatives of the supposedly non-existent Celestian Order with them, but this is my fantasy. There will definitely be batponies from the Night Watch. They will begin to interrogate and interrogate, threaten with quarries and the wrath of the Sisters. As a result, you will be found and locked in a cage at the sheriff's office for further transfer to the authorities. Right down to the alicorns. But that will happen after the Hunters are dealt with. There is time, including to hide. I planned to leave as a passenger on any boat in the direction of Las Pegasus. You are... — I have my own ways. Okay. What about the first question? — It is connected with the second one. There is a suspicion that I will not be the only one to escape. There are quite a few ponies here who don't mind meeting white unicorns in metal vests. The ticket price may rise if I don't make it in time. And I'm not very well off. Everything was planned out. And now I need to get my fee in order to have a chance to escape quickly and with relative comfort. I don't want to hide in Irvind until this whole merry-go-round stops. They will find it. Someone will blurt out too much, and that's it. And there were two wagons of these «someone»! Voyage began to get nervous, a note of panic appeared in his voice. — I don't want my alicorns brains to be stirred with a spoon! — Will the boat charter be part of the payment for your services? Or buying a seat on board? — I hope so. And don't think about the sheriff and his cage for local drunks in advance. All their own. — A port city where everyone has their own... Smuggling? — That's the one. But they're bringing coffee from Zebrabwe... And from Saddle Arabia — tea, tobacco and incense. Well, there's more fabric. Dates are different. This is if it is allowed to be imported at all. Even airships fly to the same of Aashtetos, not only ships sail... There are industrial goods, apple jam... — Apple? Are you serious? — Well... there is a certain kind of apples... — Which, of course, is only for the inhabitants of Canterlot Castle... By the way, I would not be surprised if other things, like gunpowder and weapons, flow through the water abroad, besides apples. And something comes back... — I do not know the details, — Bon Voyage interrupted. — But, as I know for sure, for some smuggling, one unicorn was somehow kicked out of a private school, although he had nothing to do with illegal goods. Do you understand? Some smoked and swallowed filth, but others were kicked out! And that foal may have shown a talent for magic! I was going to enroll in the School of Gifted Unicorns! Ah!.. Okay, whatever. — Okay, — Valentine agreed. — That's right. Then you can tell me if you want, otherwise you're talking in riddles. By the way, would you like a sip? Is there mulled wine here? — To relieve tension? I agree. They should already be cooking, Warming Hearth on the horizon.

***

— Voyage, are you asleep? — Not yet. — And what is magic? Well, is it somehow studied, systematized? — They are studying. They systematize it. They're even experimenting. But I won't explain what it is. — Some kind of unicorn secret? — No secrets. Only a unicorn can understand what unicorn magic is. Or an alicorn. — Ah, I get it. It's like my main job, right? Well, in order to be able to make programs for computers, do you have to be someone other than a pony? — What makes you think that ponies can't handle these programs of yours? — Voyage asked, a little displeased. — By analogy with magic? — The squirrel dog expressed his thought a little uncertainly. It is clear that he was being bullied. Or he wasn't bullying, which was even worse. — Let's go to sleep already, — The unicorn snorted with displeasure. — Instead of my legs, it looks like some kind of bags stuffed with straw.

***

— Valentine, wake up! Come on! — Voyage accomplished the almost impossible by deciding to shake Belkin by the shoulder. — Yes? — The squirrel dog sat up with a jerk, which made the unicorn flinch slightly. — We need to meet with the customer as soon as possible. — Where's the rush? — I don't know... A premonition? — Oh, come on! — Belkin rubbed his eyes. — Now... I need to wash my face. Won't we have time for breakfast? — I think we'll be in time. We won't even rush it. — Then why are you in a hurry and nervous? — Because we have a difficult job ahead of us. And an even more difficult conversation in front of her, — The unicorn replied a little out of place, as it seemed to the dog squirrel. Belkin shrugged his shoulders. He didn't really understand these games with the Equestrian equivalent of «why». Dr. Recepi, who magically rammed a barely familiar language into the stubborn head of a non-magical creature, had his own opinion about the norms of Equestrian. The male dog squirrel, rumpled from sleep, looked at the slightly twitching ass of the unicorn who went to wash. He didn't care about the ass, it just caught his eye that Bon Voyage was limping on all four legs. Especially on the back pair. He rearranged them like vibrating crutches. And he groaned faintly. Belkin carefully swung his legs off the bed. He got up on the third attempt, remembering «fucking walks», «I'm on the sleepers, on the sleepers again» and «fuck, if anything, I'll have to run away on my hands or on my ears.» Yesterday he trudged from morning to evening, about ten o'clock. It is clear that with interruptions, but still. Stuck almost to the sea, Irvind launched metastases of his whitewashed houses with peaked roofs very far into the greenery of those «candle plantations», Valentin sometimes saw buildings flashing among the trees in the «rusty» gold of the gardens. Sometimes it seemed that smoke was coming from burnt leaves. For breakfast, you had to go from the second floor to minus half. The sight for some guests promised to be unexpected and funny.

***

— Voyage, tell me, is it the season for catching these shrimps? — Valentine diverged somewhat, but the road was difficult. — Not really. But by winter, some other crustaceans migrate north from Nightmare Cliffs. They're all the same to me. And they roam because it's warmer here. Or it's the seasonal storms. Discord will sort it out. Did I mention the overseas Aashtetos? On the shores of the Meditermair Sea, — The unicorn temporarily lost its flowery speech. His legs hurt, of course. — The southernmost edge of the Southern Ocean of the Moon? — Belkin remembered the map. — Yes. Although geographically correct, this is not an ocean, but a sea, just very large. So, in the mentioned ancient city there is a monstrous fortress-temple in the form of a pyramid. And gardens. Lots of gardens. And a little further south in the sea, about as from Irvind to Hunters, a solid crust of floating ice begins. Interesting, isn't it? — The aristocratic Bon Voyage barely tried to cover his mouth during a yawn, but did not carry his leg. It's not surprising. — A climatic anomaly? The equator, as I understand it, runs north of the Badlands. — Yes. And in Aashtetos it is frankly hot in summer, and in winter... Well, sometimes it snows. They were walking towards the sea. It's also not the most direct way. Irvind, despite the pony's love of huddling, was smeared among the gardens and these not-quite-cypresses. Garden city. The city is a park. A provincial overgrown center. Roofs in the form of turrets or bell towers were often found. Apparently, the towers were wooden frame, upholstered with metal. They were painted in a brown tiled color. — What's in there? — Several buildings large for ponies were surrounded by a fairly high stone fence. Almost a wall. — The hospital. Including psychiatric medicine. Do you know the history of Equestria? — In very general terms. — We had a period called the Age of Discord. Like, the Spirit of Chaos ruled then. In reality, the mentioned magical essence was a kind of cherry on the cake. And the strife and chaos were created by the ponies themselves. Equestria, as such, did not exist. There were heaps of warring clans, lands, stamps and other counties. And Celestia and Luna. It is unclear how the Sisters became alicorns, but once they became, they began to unite the lands and ponies. First, Princess Platinum was taken into circulation, then unicorns with Platinum's advisers began to bite off the territories of earthly ponies. There was so much blood that the chronicles of those years are still not brought out of the archives. The earth ponies, by the way, have already turned the situation around, but then — bang! — and two young alicorns go to the pegasi to negotiate. As a result of some dark and murky story, the leader of the winged suddenly resigns with a promotion from colonel to general, and the earth ponies are defeated and enslaved. The spilled blood manifests Discord, a kind of embodiment of Chaos. Although, why not the embodiment of a bloody feud? Is it logical? — They perverted the essence of Chaos, — Belkin accused, without explaining who these «they» were. — So we got madness, which seems to be salvation from the realization of our imminent death. — And what is the essence of this Chaos? — Generation. The generation of opportunities. The basis of life, manifested by the orderly movement of energy through randomness. In the mythology of my world, this cannot be defeated. — Still, another world? And why can't it be defeated? — The unicorn unconsciously highlighted the last word, like, corrected the alien. — It can be defeated. It cannot be defeated. The mortally wounded Mother of Salt Waters, the voice and will of Chaos, will take revenge on the victors by spawning monsters and weakening the victors with her own blood. And any accident will become a malicious change. Sensuality will be devoured by perversions, planning will be replaced by multi-layered deception, courage will turn into bloody madness, and proximity to nature and all naturalness will turn into uncleanness, decomposition and diseases. — Yeah... right about the appearance of Discord. They turned the chaos of possibilities into the order of slave collars. And the order on the lands around some ancient fortresses became the basis of a disorderly civil strife. And, indeed, Luna, as the embodiment of the night, began to pervert her essence. And she thundered at the night sun. But, by the way, the Sisters had gradually freed the earth ponies by that time... — Excuse me, Voyage, but what does a mental hospital have to do with it? — And... Discord liked to have fun, distorting the perception of ponies. Sometimes it is irreversible. By the way, he's been messing around in Equestria recently. — His job? — The squirrel dog jerked his head in the direction of the hospital. — Not really. Ponies, it turns out, have some kind of historical memory, although someone try... Well, in general terms, panic attacks, psychoses and other end-of-time meetings began among the ponies. And the building of the former chamber of commerce was turned into a house of funny diseases of the head. — And the trade? — It's kind of sluggish. More and more are going to the domestic market, and pirates are almost starving on the islands, — The unicorn gave a crooked half-smile. — Ships go to Saddleback Arabia and Zebrabwe, as I have already said, but not much. And by land, it can only be reached by a relatively narrow strip between the Jackalope Slopes Mountains and the coast. And take a shortcut through the Redwoods Range. It is very far away and therefore inconvenient. — I see. Is distance the best border guard? But the opposite is also true: the space will hide. — Hmm... something like that is not for ponies... But to the point! — Bon Voyage looked around. — We're almost there. Try to talk less. You don't have to pretend anything on purpose, since you managed to stay silent at the hotel while I explained who you were, but... — Will you need something special? — No, nothing. Your accent is enough. — Okay. Then the last question. Here you were talking about a long-term war of all against all in Equestria. But didn't all three subspecies of ponies leave for new lands from enmity? — They're gone. From another continent. And immediately they took up the old things in a new place. But many of the earth ponies remained beyond the Sea of Celestia. They live in their wild forests. Desolate-Wild, have you heard? — No. Wild Wasteland? — Sort of. They say the Unity Hall has been preserved to this day. Not so long ago, by the standards of the alicorns, Celestia persuaded the leaders of the local savages there to turn to civilization. I remember, then the «iron boom» happened. — Explain? — Both railway companies began to buy up cheap and export the roadbed. Both rails are separate and in sections. They sawed and disassembled on the spot and... actually, the branch to New Haven was built that way. And the second line to the Crystal Empire... — Did the savages have their own railway? — Well, I don't know... Have you stayed since a long time ago? — Rails for a thousand years? If not for two? — What are you! The locomotives were three or four hundred years ago... Oh... why did they drag the wagons like that? By yourself? It's inconvenient... — Yes. It turned out, indeed, a little uncomfortable, — The squirrel dog smiled, but somehow angrily.

***

— This one... Well, that's it... I, this one, come, this one, twist the net, and it's like it's cut! And this one! — Footprints? — What kind of footprints?! There, this one, the shrimps get stuck. Well, small ones. What am I supposed to do, pull them all out? — Do you dry the nets not in the sun? — You, this one! Think! The usual ones are those in the sun! But you can't catch ordinary ones like that! And this one? It's thin! I don't know what kind of thread, it's like not a thread, but a hair! But she's afraid of the sun! This one, who is not afraid of unicorn work, but this one is afraid. It breaks then. It is necessary to dry under a canopy! — Are only those who are afraid of the sun affected by the network? — Of course! On the shore, can see who will go to tear the nets, but it's dark under the canopy! At night, someone is vomiting! Belkin silently picked up the wrapper. An ordinary candy wrapper made of waxed paper with cheap printing with safe ink and an uneven cut along the patterns. Did they chop up papers in a hurry? Or was the car malfunctioning? An elderly pegasus with a damaged wing (he could fly, but not for long and low, like a crocodile from an anecdote), which is why he started fishing for seafood, fortunately, it was enough to walk around the vessel to clarify the position of the «shrimp shoal», and falling into the sea with a cork vest was risky, though, but not fatally, showed the results of the night beast's outrages. The scoundrel robber did not eat shrimps on the spot, he dragged them with him. It is difficult to say exactly what was happening, but at the site of the breaks in the network, no torn shrimp legs, whiskers and other things were found. Just the grass. Valentine pulled out the already dried stem, carefully tore it off under the displeased supervision of pegasus. — You're doing it here! — I'm careful, — The strange creature replied colorlessly, continuing to examine the leaves of the algae. The seine came with the sea grass... Then the whole story with the goldfish, and at the very end you stand on the shore with a dizzy head, hunger and inflamed eyes and say: «Oh, you are strong, the sea grass!» — What are you smiling at? — Bon Voyage asked, perplexed. — Just like that. Well? Are we going to hunt down a network hooch? — Here's another thing. I'd rather do some magic. Let him track himself down for us. — Wait a bit, — The strange two-legged alien grimaced and turned to pegasus. — Have you tried to keep watch? — I don't want to. I'd rather do some magic. Let him find himself for us. — This one... there's nothing else for me to do... Well, I tried it! — some kind of greenish-colored winged pony with a mane of indeterminate color due to gray hair snorted. — No one! And how I prepared the boat in the morning, and went to get the nets... — Shouldn't you go get the nets first? — Hey, this one... why don't you teach me how to go fishing? — It's not that pony didn't put non-ponies in anything, it was just that he was offended that he had to turn to incomprehensible personalities for help. The squirrel dog shrugged and wagged his tail. He learned to move an unexpected ass limb, but advanced levels of tail management were not given. He couldn't lift something with his tail, his coordination was failing. — Okay, we'll see. Can you leave the network? — So this one... Well, I'll leave it. There is another one. The squirrel dog came out from under the awning, walked over to an empty overturned barrel. He tried to shake it and jumped in with a complicated lazy movement. He looked around and jumped back down. — What's in there? — This one... The school is there! — Na otshibe? — The stranger was surprised. Yes, what kind of kids should there be to take school out of town? They would have surrounded it with a «thorn»! Or is it useless? — Eh? — Almost on the edge of the city? — And where should she be, this one? Where the land was nobody's land, they built it. It's been a long time. And nothing is on the edge! It was only later that some families returned the land to the Crown, and moved out. Fishing, it is not given to everyone. And this one... — Yes? — If I go, won't you do something to me? — We don't have to.

***

— I must admit, I was thinking about birds, but even if a bird pulls the remains of a catch from the nets to feed the chicks, there should still be some pieces of shells, whiskers, the same litter... — Are there birds with scissors like beaks here? So that they don't peck, but cut? — Valentine examined the cut on the crushed seaweed with his strange and terrible eyes. — I've never heard of it. — And yet, — Belkin impolitely looked not at the interlocutor, but at the sea, but Bon Voyage was glad of this, because he could not bear the direct gaze of the squirrel dog for a long time, — if I am not mistaken, then seabirds are daytime. And they can't see well at night. And it's completely dark under the canopy at night. By the way, what is magic? — Nothing. Pony tracks, but that's all, if you don't count ours. — Any large insects? — Don't make it up. No multi-legged creatures, no rodents. Perhaps we should look for crystals and enchant for movement. But which one? There's a wind here... — For a heartbeat, — Valentin chuckled. — And the tracks of the same pony? Bon Voyage sighed and tinkled his horn. — No? — The unicorn was surprised at the result of his own witchcraft. — Does our client have any grandchildren or nephews? — We'll ask. In the meantime, let's take a walk... — Where to? — To school. On the way, Belkin spotted a pony hurrying somewhere in the distance. — Look at that! — What? Some kind of young filly. Unicorn. Maybe she's pretty. — Yeah. So much so that I close my eyes, and she's still visible for two seconds, like a spot from a light bulb. — No, nothing like that, — Voyage muttered, listening to his own heart, since the Equestrian second came from a pulse. — Peculiarities of perception in squirrel dogs? — The representative of those mentioned chuckled. The unicorn squinted, but asked about something else: — What did you forget at school? — The schedule, — Valentine picked up another wrapper. — Then we don't have to go there, especially for you. Classes start at eight in the morning or a little later, depending on how the class is counted here and everything else. — Eight o'clock? How long are we going? Half an hour? — Smaller. The sound of a bell, barely audible at such a distance, came from the school. It must be such a large one, like a small flower pot made of darkened copper. On a wooden handle. Schoolchildren poured out into the courtyard. They did not have a uniform, except for light vests and ties, they rode on four legs (mainly, because students are able to walk on two, including the front ones, or even on ears, horns and tails), but they were schoolchildren. Loafers, nerds and bullies, just like in any other school. And not only in this world. Yes, there were no mobile phones, but in the present, from the point of view of an outsider, have they appeared for a long time? The kids were frolicking under the still warm sun. It's hard to believe, but the week will not just be cool to freezing at night, but frankly cold. The Feast of the Warming Hearth was timed to coincide with the beginning of the real cold weather. They didn't come close. But the hubbub and screams reached the squirrel dog and the unicorn. — Is this school for the whole city? — Not only that. But visitors live with relatives or in a special dormitory at the school. — Do local children come to school on their own? — Seniors go by themselves, primary school students are escorted and met by someone. Somewhere they tried to deliver small change on such large yellow stagecoaches, but even the strongest earthly pony will not have enough health... — Okay, let's go back. You're going to enchant the crystals, aren't you? — Well, I have a few. — Especially large and clean? — No. The average size and impurities in the center. A common misconception among all non-magical creatures is that the crystal should be transparent, like a Celestia tear, — Bon Voyage chuckled, — And the size of a royal croup. But, first of all, a spell almost always requires a certain point of application, and in a pure crystal it is difficult to find a special point only if at the top. Secondly, you can select the embedding at the desired distance from the geometric center or optical axis. And this is important if you are conjuring for a long time, and not arranging a ghostly indoor fireworks display. Well, you can also influence the crystal itself, bringing the impurity distribution zone to the desired shape... Unicorns who devote themselves to magic work just with the pure, and we, the unworthy... — Don't be shy. It seems to me that you can do more than any other graduate of this school of yours for the most. — You wouldn't understand. There and only there they teach absolutely incredible things that simply have nowhere to learn outside of School. What another unicorn learns empirically, at the risk of spoiling his head, has already been introduced into the system and classified at School. You can have any craving for new knowledge, but, figuratively speaking, if you did not study at the art academy, your lot is the same type of paintings at the village fair and painting the premises with the classic «leaf-twig-berry». You won't come up with a new style, you won't create a new direction. All your tricks and secrets will be funny. It just won't work. — Is there no binding of theory to advanced technologies? — Belkin remembered about one case at the academy in Vienna, but did not turn the topic to artists. Bon Voyage stopped. — You are surprisingly accurate at times. But why do these «technologies» of yours have to be like from cheap fantasy books, and not sequences of magical melodies and not collections of spells? Valentine slowly pulled an empty pistol out of his pocket. He opened the receiver block, and then completely unhooked it. I put it back together and clicked it idly several times. He handed it to the unicorn. — Are such things familiar and understandable to ponies? Do you think these are just worthless crafts? Because of the lack of magic? — No, — Bon Voyage shook the weapon on the hoof and even tried to take it, but the trigger guard was in the way, it turned out something like an attempt to use a pistol in winter gloves. — We do not consider it, because it is incomprehensible and unusual. — Then what? Why is there such an attitude towards technology? — This is... This is historical. The mock disregard of unicorns for the work of earthly ponies. And resentment. — Resentment? — I'm holding a thing that was made not even with tools, but with machines. Usually machines are used for initial processing... And here... We won't be able to do this for a very long time, — Voyage stood up on his hind legs and touched the chamfers on the muzzle holes with the edge of the second front hoof. He got down on three limbs again and handed the gun to Belkin. — Also the material... — You must have such metal, — The stranger frowned. — I've never seen it. And if there had been, they would have tried to forge blades out of it. — And in vain. The metal is very durable, but it does not hold a sharpener. And expensive for mass production of weapons. — Admittedly, the thought of the one who came up with it was a winding path. Do you know any revolvers? — To be honest, it's an exotic primitive. And the revolvers also lost ground a lot. Other firearms are widely used in our country. — Why did you bring the weapon with you at all? It's without bullets! — You never know. Is there no place to get ammo in the city of smugglers? Well, well. I'll take some of my share of ammunition. — This share of yours, as well as mine, however, still needs to be earned. And we haven't even started. — You will conjure an alarm system, we will wait in the shade for these schoolchildren, and then you will catch them and hand them over to their parents in the presence of our customer. If they don't come, we'll keep watch at night and in the morning, when the kids drag themselves to classes. — Schoolchildren? What makes you decide?.. Valentine silently showed the wrapper.

***

— I am hueyu, dear editorial staff! — The strange bipedal creature said sarcastically, looking at the earth pony and the pegasus entangled in the net. — And how can they be handed over to the Guards now for this? — What Guard? What are you doing? They're just foals! — The unicorn did not understand, distracting himself from blowing hot crystals and putting them in his vest pockets. When they heard about the Guards, the little ones shook and stopped screaming and twitching. — Spoiling tools for mining or cooking, — Valentine began to lie nonstop. — Classified as an attempt to cause famine in order to undermine the health of ponies, cause riots, prepare the ground for an increase in crime and incline the people to revolt against the Crown. Quarries and reclamation works in the marshes. Or prison for juvenile delinquents and a huge ruinous fine for their parents. Bon Voyage wanted to stop squirrel dog, but he didn't. He changed his mind. Let him weave. Otherwise, the usual admonitions and school bullying are usually ineffective. He knows by himself. The picture painted by an outsider of the judicial massacre of foals who had not even received a Label yet was striking not so much with soulless brutality as with the feeling of accidentally hitting their own tail into the machine mechanisms. The «criminals» looked at each other and roared together, watering the sand with tears. — And why? — The hybrid raised a small pair of scissors by the ring with an unpleasant look. Something like manicure or for fine paper work. The second ring was not a ring, but a squiggle. The pony's finger will be threaded into a ring, and the hoof itself into a squiggle. Or around it. — We... we... we... — I'm listening, — Diamond dog or someone similar tilted his head to the side and raised one ear, — How are you-you-you. — We saved the shrimp! — Pegasus cried out and burst into tears even more. — In the sea of them, or what? — The angry dog was surprised and exchanged glances with the unicorn. — So they were probably already dead! — We buried them dead, — The earth pony muttered, which caused another wave of tearful deluge. — And without spoiling the nets, it was impossible to untangle them? — We were afraid we wouldn't make it! — Did you come here before school and after lessons? Well, well... and classes, therefore, are more important than the life of a crustacean? Are we silent? Is your health not so important either? You probably eat these shrimps in a salad or something. And that's right, by the way. So why did you mess with yourself? — We don't kno-o-o-w! A pony with a mane in a bun came running at the roar. — Dear, you know whose network was once again ruined by these two? — A diamond dog in overalls immediately knocked the ground out from under the pony's feet. Or not diamond. Or not a dog at all. — Morning Tide. Pegasus. He is engaged in shrimp fishing. A mark in the form of a coil of rope, — Suggested Bon Voyage. — The color is green with a blue tinge, like water. — No. It seems to be natural, — The dog muttered to himself in a barely audible voice. — Where is he a homosexual? Bon Voyage did not understand and blamed everything on the non-standard color perception of the squirrel dog. — What was ruined? Who was spoiling it? — The pony that came up to me stumbled into an interruption error. — The network. Repeatedly. With these scissors. These are the two young ladies. We thought it was some kind of animal, but they got caught. — Saipress Brunch? And... Warm Breeze, if I'm not mistaken? — Pony asked coldly. — Is it true? There was a slippery slope here. If the little ponies were as vile and cunning as Belkin suspected, they would have started yelling that they had been molested, touched in various places, caught in a net and generally wanted to kidnap for sale in Zebrabwe. But they were just children. Yes, growing up in a different cultural environment, four-legged, probably slowly learning friendly disregard for the lives of those who are not ponies, but children. Not spoiled. While. And the kids couldn't think of anything better than to scream: — We won't do it any-y-more! A-a-a! — Help me untangle them, — The diamond dog with the lion's tail asked with longing in his voice. — And parents should be informed how they are... — What? — The pony was scared. — They saved the shrimp. The grid often confuses different not-quite-marketable ones. The little thing is the same... what should we tell that pegasus? — Let's do it yourself. I'll tell their parents... — No need for parents! — The foals jumped up and got tangled up again. Bon Voyage was silent. He wondered if he would refuse to pay the Morning Tide. The villain wasn't pinned down, was he? For lack of? Or will he pay? — An emergency on the railway! — Meanwhile, pony was splurging, dealing with the net. — Don't move around! The Guardians of the Elements of Harmony themselves are expected to arrive! And you've arranged it here! What a shame for the school! You know that Princess Twilight Sparkle is also related to education, right? Have you heard about the Friendship School? I'll tell everyone who should!

***

— Voyage? Did you hear that? — Elements? Well, I suspected as much... — You should get money from the customer and... This is the first time Bon Voyage has heard the strange and disgusting expression «fuck yourself away». But yes, they should have done it. Before it's too late. They walked along the shore, heading for the piers. Boats were swinging their masts in the fresh wind. The «winter» day flared up and was about to start going out. Bon Voyage thought that this time he could meet the Day of the Warming Hearth on the road. He wouldn't want to. But even more than that, he did not want to celebrate the holiday in the cozy cell of the Canterlot dungeons. That the possessed Guardians can do something to him with their own (not their own, but someone else's, alien to the world!) with magic, the unicorn didn't want to think at all. — Thunder? — Bon Voyage twitched his ear. There were winter thunderstorms in Equestria, but more where the weather service did not work. By the way, the pegasi, who were so proud of weather management, were just performers in this service. The main work, from predicting and calculating the impact to enchanting the air fronts, was performed by unicorns. The pegasi had to move the induced magic clouds back and forth and provoke precipitation in the right place. — I'm not an expert and I could be wrong, — Belkin grimaced, — But in my opinion, these are guns.

***

I was standing at the gate of a huge barn, which pretended to be a port warehouse. The Keepers have arrived. Of course, they were met, allocated the best hotel and are ready to accompany them. Surely some ponies were bowing to the new princess. As I heard from the conversations of the workers, the Fucking Six showed up on the flying carriage of the Princesses. The ones that are real here. Isn't it a little far from Canterlot? No pegasi will be enough for such a non-stop flight. Well, they weren't dropped from an airship along with a flying sled, were they? The ponies seem to have formed some kind of spontaneous rally. Someone there, behind the ubiquitous greenery of Irvind, was hanging loose noodles on people's ears about the tranquility and duty of subjects. And that everything would be just fine. Well, the debt is a debt, but to promise good things on the eve of another cunt... However, the ponies quickly calmed down and moved on to the next point of the program. Apparently, the right words were said, and the distinguished guests headed to the place of deployment. In addition to the local pegasuses fluttering from the roof to the turret and from the turret to the tree, frightening birds, Dash seemed to flutter carelessly. She took the heroic pose of an ancient pegasus commander (fuck, you don't have a good old «Shilka» on you!), looking around the neighborhood, where the same unicorn feudal lords will once again hit pussy, and planned back. — Hey, stud, why don't you explain one thing to a stupid stranger? — Well? — a somewhat clumsy one approaches me, which gives strength, endurance and a habit of hard work, an earth pony. His name is Fit Table. Yea, boy, by your name you can make guesses about the circumstances of your birth, if not conception. — Distinguished guests... Well, the heroines of Equestria are there... Are they exactly working as heroines for a government salary? I grimace, waiting for an answer. It smells strongly of salted fish, some particularly smelly squid and other things. Rotten shells, the iodine smell of algae. Minor plant debris at the piers. Also wood resin, tar and kerosene. Sometimes the subtle and dangerous smell of spices. Like the smell of something nerve agent. Although I know this exclusively from the Internet. — Ha! Well, you were joking, squirrel doggie! — The stallion is having fun. — No, of course not! Did you fall off the moon with Princess Luna? It was in all the newspapers! — I somehow... with the newspapers... — Yeah, wipe your ass when you run out of toilet paper! — Table laughs like... Well, Equestrians look like horses, don't they? — So this is... — Listen and remember, so that you don't blurt out too much anywhere! All the Keepers come from Ponyville. Well, or they've been living there long enough. That's how an ordinary town can become a place where saviors from various misfortunes come from! Magic! Or the foresight of Princess Celestia. If I'm not mistaken, Rarity Diamond sews clothes for important and rich unicorns. Applejack is generally one of the Apples, and they have never been in trouble. Rainbow Dash works in the weather patrol, and that's not a couple of bits a month either. Or is it no longer working? I do not remember. Her highness Twilight Sparkle was definitely on the Crown's payroll, you can't walk around with a public library. — That leaves Pinkie and Fluttershy? — I don't know here. Pinkie Pie seems to be a pastry chef and a party planner, but I have an uncle in the privileges department in Vancouver… In short, some things, from lighters to non-magical medicines, were sold to the manufacturers by a certain Ms. Pie for very immodest sums. Like, she comes up with ideas, and she invents. — Wow! — I scratched the back of my head with a moronic look. The pony laughed some more and went about his business. I stood and waited for Voyage, as agreed. Something horned was messing with that pegasus Tide. It seems that he beat out a place for himself on the boat, and pegasus wrote out a check at the «sea cabman» so that there would be no unnecessary questions about the validity of the piece of paper. I looked out again. I saw Dash fluttering again. That's what's bothering her? And then it dawned on me who the Keepers were, and on what grounds they were selected by Selka. They should not be able to doubt. I'm not talking about Twika's convulsive tossing or Flatka's timidity. No, they should be stubborn fanatics on the team... Whose? Or is it their jewelry that works? If that series about the amulet of alicorn correlates at least a little with the things here, then the Elements should generally blow the roof off their bearers cleaner than the Dutch «stamps». Native speakers. Not the housewives. The hostess is sitting in their Canterlot. And then? An amateur equivalent of the magical special forces? A dream team for all cases of magical troubles? So... Dash. A provocateur and then relatively easily provoked. She throws herself at any rake and pitchfork so that others can understand what they are dealing with. The advantage is the ability to unbalance an overly smart opponent with a gopnik hit-and-run. The consumable. Apparently, her sunny highness has a plan to bring in a replacement for the retired Dashka. Fluttershy. A medic without a horn for his own and a hellish Kashpirovsky for others. If she asks you to go hang yourself... and you will. Ugh, it's fucking disgusting! Speaking of birds! Non-magical treatments involve surgery. That is, this quiet one has trained normally on animals and is not afraid of blood. But you can't tell. Applejack. A cross between a commissioner and a power support. She keeps an eye on everyone so that they do not deviate from the planned path. Who planned it? And how does a wearable mega-tsatska affect this? She also works as a lie detector and is prone to physical violence. An «interrogation specialist»? Well, not the one who asks questions, but his assistant, the one who breaks faces. Rarity? Well, this one only fits the role of headquarters. And she's also a magician, a negotiator, and so on. Twilight. Heavy warlock artillery with an outdated encyclopedia in the ammunition. But it requires constant monitoring by Rar and Jack. Otherwise, she will fuck on her own during the next «arrival» with the Celestia glitch. Pinkie's left. The same Pinkie Pie who gives out magic of the highest order unusual for earthly ponies in the lap of her permanent narcotic disco. Silent teleportation? Easy! Climb a vertical wall? Like your ninja! To give out unpredictable options of action because of their stupidity? Well, even for me, a Russian squirrel dog, this would not immediately occur to me. And I won't drink that much either. I wouldn't be surprised if Pinkie can pull «out of this world» objects out of her ass. It would be strange to hope that only squirrel dogs can perform psychoprojection while lying in a capsule. Pinkie, therefore, works as a random generator for them. This is an additional roll of the dice and another card from the deck. You can laugh all you want, but for the local conditions it's almost an «Alpha» group or a «Pennant» in a magical manner. If I'm right, abnormal rulers and fragments of former civilizations, gangs of feudal lords, evil semi-quiet and equally semi-intelligent forces and lone villains fought against ponies... And no state has ever fought seriously. So that to exterminate. To incinerated cities, bacterial spores from airships, gases and machine gun barrels steaming with boiling water in front of a moat with meat, wool and shit. And all of the above Elements were enough. Moreover, it was always possible to attract the Guard and magic of the alicorns. And now there is also a certain Legion betting on advanced non-magical (to summarize) weapons. And on the other hand, I am. An under-trained under-agent. Suitable only for unconventional exhausting of the enemy by running after shooting from around the corner. Someone who knows how to ask innocent things so that then you have to run away. But it is according to my observations that serious uncles will make decisions about the fate of the worlds. One real one and one... with magic.

***

— Voyage, will you be late for your boat? — The squirrel dog squinted at his companion. — No, they will wait. I'm sorry, but I can't get the bullets right now. You understand that. — Why did you decide to accompany me? — The fact that the sellers of cartridges were quiet was an expected bad sign, but it's time for Belkin to leave. He's already stuck here with these Arimaspi. — I'm not seeing you off. I'm showing you Irvind's hiding places. Then you will choose the appropriate one, as you wanted. By the way, can I watch you leave? — There's nothing to see. And more. The daughter of that Melting Candle. You need to check somehow if the child is all right. — I'm afraid it's not even tomorrow's case. That's how I'll go home, and I'll think about it, — Bon Voyage frowned and changed the subject. — What do you call yourself, by the way? You can't be called a dog, can you? — There? Or here? — Is there a difference? — The unicorn was surprised. — Have you heard the legends about humans? — There was a case. Some ancient tribe came and went. No evidence. Even before the Sisters. — Well, at home I am this mythical person. And I look a little different, — The stranger looked at himself and shook his head. — And what are you called here? — There is no official name. But the most suitable is the shefango. The scoundrel from the Dog Pits. Bon Voyage said nothing in response. Then suddenly he gave it away: — Are you afraid that the Princesses will decide to bend you to their will? Conquer? Well, you don't have magic, do you? — Something is showing up here, like the same earth ponies. Certain features. And there... Yes, we don't have magic. She just doesn't exist. And you can be here even though you are an alicorn, hung from head to toe with magical nonsense, but we have… We can't have you either. No, we are afraid of something else. — What is it? — I'm sorry, but even my guesses are secret. And don't worry, we have nothing to do in your world, to summarize... oh! Here are! — What? — Those ponies over there. They look like they're painted on cardboard. And the shadows are a little wrong if you look out of the corner of your eye. Voyage? — Belkin suddenly pulled himself up. — Yes? — Can you conjure up protection against all sorts of magical stuff? — I can, but... — Then put all the power on the shields and engines. I mean, spend all your strength on defense and endurance. And run. Straight to the ship. — But... We are... and your money... — You can take it for yourself. How to cash out. You can spend some of it on that pony whose mother I shot. But then. But now we go around the corner, and you start for the shore. You'll be in plain sight there, they'll be careful. Don't hide in the crowd. They will surround you and quietly kill you. As soon as you reach the ship, get on board. At once. And make sure that suddenly the same sailor is not listed twice. — Changelings? — The unicorn breathed out. — You know best. — Okay — Bon Voyage took several deep breaths. — Come on. Now... Are you sure you'll be able to leave in time? — There is a backup option, if anything. Are you ready? — Listen, — Voyage hesitated and stomped more than he walked. — If I didn't have to check if they were shifters or not, I could handle three. Maybe I could have killed four of them. Yes, not to death, but... what if you were mistaken? And without verification... — I can well imagine the cost of a mistake. And I'm offering what I'm offering. By the way, the corner is here. Are you ready? — A little more... Here! — The unicorn gave out something so magical, and Belkin's teeth ached. And that's it, actually. After that, Bon Voyage briefly said goodbye and ran. A couple of times he seemed to be caught up in a hurricane wind with the rustling sound of a horn, then he conjured a soap bubble that quickly became invisible around him. And disappeared behind the walls of the houses and bushes along the paths. Will he rush to the hotel to get his trunk? Will he go straight to the marina? It doesn't matter anymore. Valentine watched as the twitching shifters «with the textures flying off» convulsively puffed up and hid again under a false picture. Something to do with the effects on the brain. As long as you look at them, it seems to you that it is someone else. Interesting, if the effect persists in photos and videos? Or only on high-resolution videos? An earth pony, two unicorns, a pegasus. And before that, there were black, leaky things. They fit. — I'm sorry, but we need to talk, — The voice is pleasant but cold. It looks like a unicorn, but Belkin has already seen everything. — To you? Speak up, of course! I wasn't going to get in the way! — Belkin leaned against a fence made of flat stone plates. He didn't leave, it would have meant turning his back. Scare them with an empty gun? «Lose» him if he doesn't get a ride to scare them, and when they attack after a bummer with magic, open the most greyhound with a split blow? «Mako», having a double-sided sharpening, was still not a real dagger. But he could break flesh to the bone with extraordinary ease. And the bones themselves... Hit the joint and say hello to the limb. — You need to talk to us. Very. — About what? How did the sterch lose a seed? There was a ringing in his ears. The sky swelled up and to the sides behind the translucent clouds that had become. The sun has faded. «Ready to pull, — Said the voices in my head. — Finally!» — Countdown, — The squirrel dog asked. The shifters looked at each other in disbelief. «Wait... four, three, two, one... Zero!»

***

I became a funeral pyre. Do you know how a person feels when half of his soul is torn out of him? With blood and rags? Hate. Hatred of all things. To the chain of events. To myself. That Valentin Belkin, who was returning to the body floating in the capsule, seemed to be trying in his mind to cling with bloody hands to the paws of a strange squirrel dog. He screamed out of desperation and anger. The wet fur of his paws slid under his fingers. His own essence was coming off in pieces with a crunch. — Go away, — A piece of his schizophrenically split consciousness breathed out with an animal mouth. — And thanks for trying. A human palm, wet with ethereal blood, slid over the fur. The skin parted under the fingernails of the claws. I was burning and falling into black nothingness. The man is back. The squirrel dog was left burning. Burn and fall into the black well of death. The fate of the shefango is to die.

***

— What happened? — We should ask you what happened there! — Petrovich is kind of hilariously angry. — You've already asked, haven't you? — Valentine nodded at the empty hospital plastic cup with rice porridge, in which pills had been jingling until recently. — Moreover, several times. Really, they just kept him on, even brought him for questioning. Asked everything from my own reaction to a thing or another and the approximate chronology of historical events. Really, they just fucked him continuously, even brought him to the interrogation to devour. They asked everything, from their own reaction to this or that thing to the approximate chronology of historical events. — And we'll ask you again! — Petrovich won't let up. — Fuck, we were already going to wake you up urgently! You know, there are some features of an encephalogram that can be used to judge a possible one — pay attention! — only more possible schizophrenia... — Statistical methods, what is it? — I'm not an expert, but it seems so, — The boss grins. — So, congratulations: from the moment you started to deviate from the task, your brain began to resemble the brain of a schizo more and more. — Something happened there. The assignment had to be revised due to... sudden completion, or something. — That is, if look at the protocol, you have reached the point where it is most convenient to go to the territory of those one-eyed... Well? Go on. I'll listen to it again, this time on a relatively sober head. Yours, — Petrovich called the attendant and ordered tea to be brought. — I was going to sit out the stop on the roof of the wagon and then catch the moment to slip away, — Belkin waited for the attendant to leave and only then spoke. — And here, then, the desired thing is found. And it breaks the arrow, according to these ponies. Honking, braking, everything... — And? — And this unknown... thing rushes at the locomotive. There is no other way to explain what happened next. — And what happened there? — Sergei Petrovich asked thoughtfully. — As expected. The one-eyed goat is safely out of the way. The speed was funny there... — Belkin, this is a steam locomotive. He's got a lot of stuff that's not funny. — It makes sense. The thing falls to the side, the train slowly stops. I'm jumping off. — And then? — And then he looked at me. And I threw up. I decided that I didn't give a damn, somehow approached and opened fire. Bullets and buckshot proved ineffective. Unexpectedly, a fine shot in the face worked well. And then the explosive bolts. Lucky. — Belkin, are you the smartest one? What were you told to do? — To return, including the emergency method. — And you? — There was no contact in their natural environment. I thought that I would continue to complete the task before an emergency return. The phrase didn't work. — He thought! In order to think, there are bosses, — Petrovich broke off, as tea was delivered. — And you have to follow orders clearly! Come! Back! And what did you do? — I came back. The terms were not specified. — We discussed it. With the phrase «immediately». And you joined the fight. And if we were planning to negotiate with the one-eyed ones, and you fucked up all the raspberries for us? — The instructions implied that there could be no question of a contract, — Valentine said. He took the glass at Petrovich's nod. He took a sip. They fucked up the sugar again. Should he feed his brain? — How do you know why they're demanding something from you? What kind of amateur activity is this? — The very «format» of diving provides for amateur activities. — Provides him. — The curator of the experiment grimaced. — Okay, forget it. It's me who's falling off the old rails. You know, it's a strange thing. What's next? — I drove to the place Hunters. By the way, I would like to see the map that I drew under the drugs. What if you forgot something? — Absolutely. Although, we are from that map... You can't send SRT there. You're the only anarchist terrorist here. Although I can't imagine how you can be an anarchist statesman. Our HR department is completely fucked up... Go on. — I drove to Hunters. Already in the wagon. — Belkin, did you get fucked up in the attack too? On arimaps of this fucking? In which wagon? What if you show up in front of a government agent, let alone a bunch of locals? — I was dragged. While I was out. I told you so. — Then you couldn't analyze your own actions during the interrogation. You were goggling like a stoner in a brothel. You would have lied at the moment and not noticed. By the way, why did you switch off? Their magic? — I don't think so. I'm telling you that the phrase didn't work then. By the way, right after the incident with one-eyed. — Maybe. We haven't «heard» a damn thing about you. Your brain is already overheating, your blood sugar has dropped, and you're kind of stuck. It seems to have been confirmed with these freaks. By the way, what about magic? Belkin shook his head. — This is bullshit. Either the spontaneous entanglement of external particles with something in the head of a sorcerer's horse, or some other influence on something. Whether on thermodynamics through probabilities, or on wave functions… I don't really understand anything. That's what they told me, have to be a unicorn to do it. — You didn't really learn anything new, you went to hell knows where, and even went to the killers... Belkin, — Petrovich looks wearily, — You are incredibly lucky that experts consider that world exclusively a model calculated by the brains of the affected. Do you know what kind of mercenary work you're going to get under our laws? Didn't you also fill up the second one-eyed one with it? — Not me. Unicorn. He made some kind of wrong mumbo-jumbo, and the goat's eye was boiled. — Bitch. They lived to see it. — The curator looks out the window somewhere. — I'm discussing unicorns... — Both in computer toys and in literature, it slips through that... Well, I'm talking about crap that turns others into their own kind. Sergey Petrovich waved his hand irritably. — Forget it. Not in our reality. There are no mechanisms. And rabies is already there. — What about all sorts of cultural and memetic infestations? — Reversible. At the same time, the people have an analogue of immunity. The average human is disgusted by the particularly stoned ones. The days of the fools, Belkin, are over. And here's what we're up against... okay, let's move on. — As I said, I got to the city of Irvind. In some ways, our Yeysk resembles, only there are much more greenery, entirely pebble paths, and there are no multi-storey buildings at all. Bell towers and towers don't count. Well, there is no flat layout. Something was planned there once, but everything went awry. — And how did you avoid unnecessary attention? Didn't you say you didn't make it? You got off earlier. — Exactly. I trudged through all the suburbs on rails. Then the unicorn met me. With a flashlight, — The «psychonaut» grinned, — Like a kerosene lamp. He took me in a roundabout way to some hotel. Everything is clean, but without any special frills, and the audience is silent. — Oh, fuck... and if it was a «hut» for «own guys»? Didn't you think? — I didn't think of it. I couldn't think straight anymore. Did I mess up? — Not really. Moreover, everything went well. I'm doing this so that you don't relax. And no one planned to negotiate with one-eyed goats, you're right. You fucked those two up, and we have a drawdown with new cases. The only thing is, it will be difficult to get you there. — Why? — You're going to get checked out now. You're going, I said! Even though I wanted to give you a horseradish instead, we promised. Moreover, you are the only one who has been there and remained sane. Well, relative to your previous level. Because we've seen your «works»... What kind of Japanese schoolgirls are prostitutes in the interface? — The customer liked it. And I was just hinting at the article to him. By the way, do those sacrifices have a connection with our historical events? — Who the hell knows. We had a lot going on back then. Both Christ and diarrhea, all together... If you think about it that way, sacrifices changed the magical abilities of — ugh, fuck! — unicorns. — Purely theoretically, because the thought is repugnant to me, — Valentine grimaced, — Is it possible to destroy one-eyed ones with sacrifices? — You also offer to feed the bears so that they don't attack people. Only if the goats themselves are sacrificed. Massively, with the help of aviation, which you can never drag there at all... But don't think about it yet. We are already moving in the right direction, however, with some complications. So, you go to the doctors, and then you train. — Abandoning? — No, I told you. It's just that you reacted interestingly to one door. The staff noticed. — What's behind the door? — It's a little state secret. Do you never want to go abroad? No question, you sign the right paper, and I'll tell you everything. — I think I'll manage. Is my encephalogram okay now? — Yes. As I «came out» from there, everything returned to normal. How it was cut off. Okay, go get some rest.

***

He was being driven home again in an official car. Belkin sat in the back, listening to the short static-hissing talks so as not to fall asleep. It's all code phrases and buzzwords. Sometimes the characteristic noise of digital communication slipped through. But Valentine didn't really understand this. He drove and thought. It turned out that he had lost something there, in this horse world. Some part of himself. How it was cut off.