He reached into his pocket and pulled out the long key to his house.
"May your devil be older," he shouted into the air and hid in the only haven he considered safe.
The microparticles were changing by the minute. The device operated at a distance of a thousand kilometers... upwards and two kilometers horizontally. The changes were happening faster than... actually, they had already happened.
It was overcast. The sky seemed different somehow. The colors seemed more intense, and the density seemed to have increased many times. The sun shone normally, though you had to really strain to see it. Kortian had never seen anything like it. Maybe he was hallucinating?
"I hope those bastards don't succeed," he said louder, as if his wife hadn't been impressed by the previous words. "I want to be the first to kick that prick who's pointing this right in his filthy ass."
Now his wife turned away.
"Express yourself, please," she said almost casually, and went back to what she was doing.
"You'll see," he said, "there will come a time when everything will even out. God knows when, but if you ask me, I don't give this world more than two years. "
After a moment, he snorted.
"Two years. What am I saying? Two months," he said, and went to his small room, which wasn't quite what it seemed.
A month later
Everything was coming to an end. Two months was both a long and short time. Everything was ready. Seen to perfection. One hundred and twelve people were already on site. They were happy with their stay. In fact, they even wanted to stay. No one complained of any inconvenience. The service was exemplary. Ground zero, located inside the dome, was the most important place, accessible only to a few people. No one dared even ask to see or visit it.
"There are a thousand paths to everything," the gray-haired man said aloud, and entered the room, which was empty except for himself. He glanced at the bottom of the screen and pressed a few buttons. After a moment, he sat down in his chair and looked at the printout. So many thoughts were swirling in his head that he wasn't sure if he was fully aware of what he had discovered. For a second, he wondered if he was going crazy. He glanced again.
No, this can't be true, he thought, and then went to another room. What he was doing was giving him pleasure. And as he used to say: You have to love what you do for it to yield any results.
Lies weren't difficult or painful. They were a necessity. After all, no one knew what the words he spoke now truly meant, or what would happen in a few weeks. He saw no one more powerful than him. No one mattered anymore. Only the conductor remained on stage, about to enter his well-deserved retirement. What he had done for the audience and the players themselves was a major achievement. Enough for now. End for now. You have to scrap the plan and think about how to make the most of the time you have left. There wasn't much of it, and the president enjoyed life. He enjoyed this wonderful game that life undoubtedly was. He had neither much to lose nor much to gain. The only thing he lacked was immortality, but he had stopped worrying about that either. It seemed overrated to him. Like everything else in this world. He sat down in his office one last time and began to confess. He had a few days to do it. Perhaps he would make it.
On the other side
, "Nothing changes, Nikolev," the commander of the Russian forces said to his superior, whom he considered a friend.
"Yes, General. It's sad, but it's true," he added, almost with tears in his eyes.
"Well. In that case," the general mused, "we'll have to carry out the order we received." He paused. "Our suspicions proved correct, Nikolev."
His friend nodded, as if understanding the general's meaning.
"That's sad. Until the last moment, I thought the situation would change," he glanced at the screen. "But if not. Report to all commanders," he paused, knowing the significance of the words he was about to speak. "War is in thirteen days. Prepare for the final showdown. Our enemy is in the 'Zero Point' phase. From now on, you are to think only about this. Understood, Nikolev?
" "Yes, General," he said, going to deliver the message to the rest of the soldiers. He wondered if the General knew that the President already knew. And he knew much more than they did. Nikolev.
The choice was simple. Implementation remained a guess for now. If distance wasn't an issue for the energy, the meteorite should be stopped within thirteen days. All that was needed was to direct the appropriate energy beam in its direction. Everything had to work. And why not? After all, it wouldn't destroy the planetary station now, which would soon be the last vestige of humanity. If it couldn't be stopped, who knows—humanity might cease to exist. Everything pointed to that. After all, it would be impossible for such a large object not to destroy their base, which to him is like an ant to an elephant. Radiation-reducing devices were installed throughout his apartment in electrical outlets, on his computer, and by his bedside lamp. He was isolated from harmful electromagnetic radiation. His mind was less exposed than others to the possibility of paranoid ideas and insane visions. He drank only water that passed through a filter system he had built himself before it reached his glass. He had installed every possible purification system, although chemists said it was impossible, he knew he was right. His water looked, even tasted, different. He didn't care what the chemists thought. He knew this was the only way to maintain normality. He ate only a few foods that weren't yet contaminated. Sometimes, on sale, they'd give you a product that was fit for consumption, but when you tried to buy it from a regular batch, it was already saturated with chemicals. He didn't want to get sick. To be like everyone else. Oh no, he couldn't give up his life that easily. There is too much to do. There is too much to lose.
He picked up both test tubes. Everything matched. The situation was tragic. His life had suddenly lost its meaning, and the next, it had. He realized something he had been working on for ten months. He had already speculated, but now he had tangible proof. He thought about the mistakes he had made in the past. He felt regret, then he brightened. Apparently, this was meant to be. Maybe life was telling him something. It was revealing a secret, so he could use it in some good way. To make great use of it. He knew what to do, but he didn't know how. He saw a light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn't small or flickering. It was so vast that it practically illuminated the entire tunnel. Nothing was a secret anymore. All the cards were revealed. It was a wonderful feeling. He was a little afraid. What if he didn't live up to the task entrusted to him? What if he didn't rise to this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? He was an adult now. Eventually, something would happen to him that would change his fate. He was nervous. Very nervous. His stomach lurched. He began to pace quickly around the room. He glanced at his phone. There was no message, and he felt something was bound to happen. He had to remain calm and humble. Otherwise, disaster might strike. How many times had this happened to him? He was close, yet so far away. This time, he couldn't let it happen. He couldn't let this chance go without a fight. He had to go for it. If he succeeded, it would be a great victory; if not, he was back to square one. Not good.
He gathered his thoughts. Everything had to be in order; he deserved it if fate finally smiled on him. He'd worked hard all his life. He loved this world, he was truly devoted, so… what could stand in the way now? He was alone, but he felt as if surrounded by a swarm of people. Was it schizophrenia? Perhaps. It wasn't important at the moment. What mattered was that the cards finally smiled on him. He began to pray silently. He had to help fate somehow, since it seemed deaf to his call. What could he do to speed up time, to end this race he hoped to win? He wanted to shout, rejoice, sing. He didn't know what to do. Time stretched on forever. After all, it couldn't last forever. There had to be some sign, something to tell him he was right, that his life would change. That from now on, things would be much, much better. Humility had to be defeated, otherwise, nothing would come of it. Maybe he should take a walk, get some fresh air. Anything to keep his head from filling up and his mind from working so slowly. What's happening to him? Why is he trembling? His hands are starting to sweat. He's nervous. He looks into the distance and sees test tubes. No, this isn't a dream. Maybe he should pinch himself. He does it. He's alive. He feels pain. He looks at the phone. Still no one calls, God, how long will this last? How long will he be in this hypnotic state? He's about to die. He feels the last of his strength draining away, the strength he's held in reserve until now. He feels terribly aroused. God. It's like an hours-long orgasm. He can't stand it any longer. It's now or never. This has to happen. He knows he can control it. He's stronger than this. He's been through so much, he should be able to handle anything. His muscles are starting to tense. His penis is erect. He felt like a virgin who's just experienced the joy of sex. What's happening? Suddenly he has an orgasm. His strength is fading. Emotions are bursting forth. It's over, he hopes. He looks at the test tubes. They're still there. He looks at his pants. They're wet. It's definitely over. It was wonderful, but he hoped it was over. He quickly came to two conclusions. His partner was under hypnosis, or all women were. God, he'd finally be able to bring her to orgasm. It was so simple. It was better to have something to lose; life was more delicious that way. He had a plan. He knew where he'd gone wrong. Slowly, the path he needed to follow began to form. The maze had been broken. A straight path had appeared, and he could now follow it without any problems.
But it's worth working. It's worth doing something. Yes. The puzzle had just been put together. All the pieces were in place. They should have been there a long time ago, but time had no meaning at that moment. What mattered was what he had achieved tonight. Only that. He was gloating, but silently he was telling himself to slow down. He'd be a fool to think this was the end of the road. He had to try to stay humble. What good would it be to be happy now if he didn't have anything to eat tomorrow? Yes, humility was the most important thing. And breathing. Breathing and humility. He heard voices outside the door. One of his friends was learning to sing.
Good, he thought. Good for her. Let her learn. May everyone be as happy today as he was.
He hoped they felt the same. A wonderful feeling that should never fade. His head stopped hurting. He saw that money didn't matter in life. Nothing more. He simply felt it. They're not what most people dream of. They're not happiness. Happiness is being aware, but happiness isn't money. Everyone has to find out for themselves, but was there anything terrible about it? No, it's the normal course of events. All his relatives had experienced it. His parents and grandparents. History repeats itself. He didn't believe it until he tried. He felt pride. He didn't want that feeling to go away. It was positive. Just like him. But there were no catches to everything, as he had previously believed. But not everything was as it seemed. Not even halfway. He was alone, yet he felt like he knew everyone on this planet. In this city. Nothing was a barrier to him... Nothing could stop him. All he had to do now was to keep that feeling coming back to him. Over and over again. Let it give him energy. Strength. After all, he was worth it. Otherwise, would he have suffered such a fate? It wasn't good to be lied to, to be manipulated. It was only an evil that had to be avoided, to prevent it from being revealed to anyone else. One thing was certain in life for him. You should never be certain of your fate. Who knows if you'll live to see tomorrow? Maybe in an hour you'll be hit by a vehicle that will rob you of your legs or take your life completely.
May this moment last forever, he thought, and lay down on the bed. He'll never feel bad again. The end
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