Nikolay Lakutin - Quest. The Drummer's Soul. All the parts. Complete collection

"Cool down, man, and be nice to your father, or you won't see him again."… I wanted to see my Creator-take the parcel… a measured voice came from somewhere in the void, and everyone in the kitchen turned to look at it.

Mikhalych's wife rushed to the noise and, clasping the jamb with her hands, froze in a frenzy when she heard the strange statement of a voice from the void.

"Who said that?" nikephoros asked, peering into the void.

But there was no response…

***

–Here is so as something, – ottryakhivaya their fingertips, has he spoken Tikhon, returning in cleanest from layer past in linear calculus thirty years ago, – canvassed communicate, can mind will gain both.

The drummer watched Victoria's flickering heels, grinned at the quivering bushes at the top of the alley, and whispered:

– Greetings to you, Bartholomew from me, another. Don't get bored, we'll see you soon…

***

Nikifor, Gavrila, Mikhalych, his wife, and the boy sat silently at the table in the smoky kitchen. Spilled on the second.

– What, let me ask, do you have a calendar for 1989? Collecting rarities? – paying attention to the tear-off calendar, which I saw only as a child, the fighter asked, removing the knife from his eyes, assessing the peacemaking position of the environment.

The locals looked at the calendar in surprise, then at the guy.

"What year do you think should be on the calendar?" "what is it?" the landlord asked cautiously.

– It's 2019, don't you know? – what is it? " the intruder asked sarcastically, overturning his glass. But when he met the genuinely startled stares, he removed the grin from his face.

"Gavrila, Nikifor-it's time for you to leave us," Mikhalych's wife said rudely. The husband's drinking companions had not heard this tone from the humble hostess before, but they preferred not to find out the details and quickly left the hut.

– That voice…"who didn't seem to be the only one who told you to be polite to your father.".. I don't quite understand it yet, and I don't really believe it, but tell me your name.

– Can I still show my passport? What kind of interrogation are you doing here, mother? We sat, talked and will. I have to go, " the guy said roughly, getting up from the table.

– Not Ivan? the woman asked pleadingly, looking with tearful eyes into the boy's eyes. These words startled Mikhalych, who had hitherto remained calm.

"So what?" – passing to an exit, the fighter answered through teeth. "She's a clairvoyant, too." Now you can easily find information for each person. Come on, clowns.

The guy left the house. The wife sat down next to her husband, looking at each other meekly.

– Well, what's wrong with that? Where did this ghoul come from in our underground? – partially sobered, gave Mikhalych.

His wife only looked at the calendar in confusion. A few minutes later, the door in the house opened and the same guest from the basement entered the kitchen. He asked in an exemplary tone:

"Where am I?"

"I don't quite understand how this is possible, but I recognized you. Come in, Ivan Maksimovich, sit down, " the woman replied, as if in a state of prostration.

"How do you know my middle name?"

"We'll get to know each other.".. Maksim…"your father's coming," the man said, getting up from the table.

***

"Is it really eighty-nine?" – biting off a slice of Soviet sausage, the guy asked.

– Yes, van, for us this is the usual and natural course of time. Tell us about-how you live? my mother asked.

– What do you do for a living? my father added.

– Yes, I am…– considering how to present your, to put it mildly, not quite legal activity, Ivan drawled. But then I got my bearings and changed the subject:

– What kind of activity and life? If you really are my ancestors and I have somehow been transported back thirty years, then you'd better tell me how it happened that I don't know my parents. Do you know what it's been like without my father and mother all these years? What does a child feel when they watch their families on TV and don't know what parental warmth and support is? Why are you so sad? No answer?

Maxim Mikhailovich looked at the floor.

– I will answer, – my wife Olga said quietly, – when you were born, our life changed, it is a natural process, but we were not ready for these changes. The constant screaming, the sleepless nights, the nerves as a consequence of the discord. Maxim did not get enough sleep, went to work in the morning with a cast-iron head and eventually gave an ultimatum: either I or this little screaming creature.

"You memorized everything word for word…,– surprised detached issued a man.

I was afraid your father more than life feared, and there was something to fear, – said Olga, a Bathrobe covering the bruise on forearm, – so tossed you to the gates of the orphanage of the district centre.

"You didn't love me at all?" Ivan asked in a choked voice.

"I did, and I still do." I only sent the child to an orphanage for one reason – it would be safer for you here than where your father could reach you.

– So that means from whom I have this vein of aggression and rage. Well, dad, consider the boomerang back, now don't forget it…

Ivan's face was calm, his tone quiet and insinuating, but there was lightning in his eyes. In an instant, he hurled the knife from his bosom at his father, who was sitting across from him, but the blade clanged as it struck the tree. Ivan realized with dismay that he was sitting on the ground, in the very Park from which he had disappeared. In front of him stood a huge tree trunk, in which the handle of a knife launched at his father often swayed from side to side.

"I saved you from two careless actions today, and I won't protect you again," came the same voice that had sounded in the parents ' hut.

"You know now that you have to pay the bills, it can happen right away, maybe in thirty years, as in your case with your father, maybe in eighty or ninety, in the next incarnation, or in the next incarnation.

Tikhon went to the tree, easily removing the knife from it, and handed it to Ivan.

He continued:

– It's not karma, not a fee for the offense and not so much a boomerang, however, on the Ground it sounds completely out of place. This is simply the law of causation. You create an action that creates certain consequences. You are a Creator Ivan, not a murderer, think what you are doing, and then in thirty years no one will throw sharpened pieces of iron at you. Get up off the ground, people are watching. While your hands are still clean, but I will not appear at your fork again, you will choose from now on which way to go.

Tikhon gave his hand to the boy, who got up without refusing to help.

And that's another way let's say, in this place, Tikhon made a helpless gesture, – anything, but then if that is not right.

Tikhon smiled.

– I don't know who you are, but thank you for fulfilling your dream. I didn't think I'd ever be able to look my father and mother in the eye, much less find out why.

"That's not the whole truth. Don't blame your father for your fate. These are just cause-and-effect relationships, the result of your incarnation the day before last. We will not go into details, but I will say that this is only your choice.

"I dug deep."

– More than. You're not a fool, I know. Make a choice so that you don't have to, then regret it… then it's much, much later… and everything will be fine. Be.

Tikhon held out a firm hand. Ivan responded with a genuine friendly handshake.

The stranger winked and took a few steps behind Ivan. When he turned around, there was no one behind him, only couples walking in the distance, and a stall selling balloons.

***

After scanning the space again, Gideon sat down in the chair of the new rental apartment.

"Strong, damn it. If you really put an entire country against him, the odds will probably be equal, " he reasoned, studying the drawing of Bartholomew that he had drawn with his own hand.

"Humans are truly magnificent creatures. Planets can move, not that…, and are engaged in various nonsense. Worthy deeds of course, too, but… So… How can I beat you? I'm inferior in strength, I can feel it, "he continued," but I have a lot of helpers, right?

Until a certain point, it was not clear who the question was addressed to, but a few seconds later a Raven flew into the window, and he nodded his head servilely. The potted flowers made similar motions of agreement with a nod.

"That's good. So we need to lure Bartholomew to a territory where we will have the advantage and then I can break a link in this age-old moldy chain that has enveloped the whole world.

The Raven nodded his head and pointed with a characteristic cry to Gideon at the car's spinning dimes. A beautiful black car was whistling smoke from the rear wheels, spinning almost in place of a small paved area a hundred meters from the window with the Raven. Gideon recognized the driver as Vahe.

A moment later, the apartment was empty. The car left the platform and with a terrible squeal shot up on a busy city highway. At various points along this route, Gideon appeared and disappeared in pursuit of the driver. And then the car finally stopped. The driver's door window was ajar.

– Yes? replied in torn up the cell phone Vahe.

It was Tao.

"What are you doing?" "what is it?" he asked.

"Testing a new horse," Vage said, stroking the steering wheel.

– The teacher asks you to come to him, there is a conversation.

"Is something wrong?"

– I don't know, he doesn't speak, but be careful, our Sensei is not in the spirit.

"Thank you, Tao. I'll be there in an hour.

Vahe hung up the phone and suddenly noticed a medium-sized spider escaping from his jacket.

"Where did you come from, scoundrel?" In the box that if blown from the branches of what?

Vahe slapped his jacket several times, but it didn't hit, and the spider ran nimbly along the sleeve and jumped out of the window.

"That's nice," Vahe said, closing the window and pressing the accelerator pedal to the floor.

Gideon picked up the springing spider from the pavement and placed it on his palm.

"Well, my friend, did it work out?" he turned to the arthropod, and after reading something in the spider's facial expressions, he smiled contentedly, then released the bug, carefully lowering it to a branch of a Bush from which he had removed it a minute ago and inserted an earpiece into his ear.

The spider successfully attached the " bug " to Vaga's jacket. This was his favorite jacket, and he wore it " without taking it off." It was not so easy to get into the head of Vaga or Bartholomew, they were some kind of unsurpassed masters of mind tricks, but trivial maneuvers here gave a slack. Who would risk playing with the occult community? After all, finding a wiretap, these guys will easily calculate the mastermind of the operation and will be punished to the fullest extent. This is what the spider lover made a bet on and did not lose.

– Hey, do you like music? a voice came from behind. Gideon turned to see Victoria.

"So we met again," she said, smiling, " and I knew, I believed, that it would happen.

– Vetch…"suddenly," Gideon said, removing the earpiece from his ear.

– Not believe. For you, in my opinion, everything is clear and consciously predetermined!

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Not now, I think I've already made it, and more than that, I've arrived just in time."

The girl's eyes shone.

"Well… Gideon looked around. His eyes caught on the ice cream sign.