Queen of seven mountains

*Between Us*

I believe and don’t believe.
Sin lives with me.
It lies beside me.
I speak to it.
How it grips my heart.
Sin won’t rest.

Alas, it’s so dear to me,
I blame myself for it,
For how I cherish it.
It lies at my feet,
I soar with it.
Why?
         Why?
                  Why?
You are sin! I love you!

Part 1. Sowing

Preface

“…for all the nations have drunk the wine of the passion of her sexual immorality.”
Revelation 18:3

On the banks of the Moskva River sits a cozy café. The air is always fresh, the light soft, and the large windows offer stunningly beautiful views. At a table by the window sits a man in a luxurious white tuxedo, sipping strong, fragrant tea, the kind typically served in such places. He appears just over fifty, athletic, his face etched with wrinkles. He gazes at the scenery, oblivious to the bustling life around him. At that moment, a man limping on his right leg enters the café, leaning on a cane. He moves confidently, almost swaggering, like a gentleman from a bygone era. Dressed in a black tailcoat, a hat on his head, and sunglasses shielding his eyes, he stops at the table, removes his hat with a respectful nod, and says with a sly grin:

– It’s been a while, Arkady. Moscow’s splendid, isn’t it?

The athletic man extended his hand, and after a handshake, they sat down together.

– Good to see you, Alexander. I’ve been wanting to discuss something intriguing.

– And what’s that? Moscow, Rome, Paris…

– You’re aiming off target. You know well He doesn’t distinguish between them. Moscow, Rome, Paris—it’s all the same to Him. It’s people He cares about. We hear their grumbling and discontent, and I’m sure you’re well aware of it.

– Spare me, my friend! As long as we’re around, they’ll never stop complaining, will they?

Just then, a waiter approached with a menu.

– Just tea for me, pal, – Alexander said.

– Another for me, – the athletic man added.

The waiter left, but they kept watching him.

– Tell me, does that waiter like his job? – Alexander asked. – Scrapes by on pennies, rents a room, and without an apartment, he’s hardly a catch for the ladies. Who’s to blame? Us! We don’t crave wine, women, or family—only they do. And for what? For a single smile. We give them hope, and it breeds despair, where they wallow.

The men were brought their tea and took a sip.

– You’re right, of course, but let’s get to the point. It’s time to dress an old trick in new clothes.

– Arkady! – the limping man said with a hint of irony. – Who’d fall for that nowadays?

– Everyone!

– Really, everyone?

– Every single one! – Arkady confirmed, sipping his tea before continuing: – Come on, when didn’t they fall for Rousseau, Voltaire, Marx, or even Hitler in the end?

– If you’re chasing their fame, do it without me, – Alexander cut him off.

– No, you’re missing it! I’m talking about “Babylon Reborn”!

– That’s a dead end! – Alexander protested.

– A dead end, – the athletic man nodded. – But we’re at the peak of its walls. All we need is to show them the way.

– I can’t believe we’ve… – the limping man raised his hands to the sky, – come to this…

– Yes, but one thing worries me more.

How it will unfold, I cannot see…

– She hasn’t strayed far from us.

– The system, as always, is singular, like dominoes.

– Move one, and all will fall.

– There’s a catch—the currency.

– Your boy will fix that,

– He’ll set the table, and they’ll all flock to it…

Their conversation grew livelier. The connection between their fragmented phrases was clear only to them.

– Yes. Where would they go without currency, especially with the table set? All that’s left is to mark them.

– And they won’t be pried from that currency, – Arkady added glumly, – especially not in our time…

– No need to tell me! – the limping man exclaimed.

– You artists should know the people best. Replace one thing with another, and they’ll come to you.

– Arkady nodded.

– So let’s drink to it! Waiter!

Chapter 1. Hello!

And a great sign was seen in heaven: a women…
Revelation 12:1

She woke up with a hangover. It was 10:30 on the clock. She reached into her purse on the floor, took the mirror, and looked into it. "What a fool," she thought, looking at her eyes tearing from the lenses. "How could I forgot about them!” Turning around, she saw a handsome man, sleeping like a baby. She didn't want to wake him. It was early to leave, and she was in no hurry anyway. She pulled the blanket off him and went to the bathroom. "Yeah, looks crappy. Gotta perk up and head home." After the shower, the kitchen was raided, too.
He fumbled his hand along the bed, looking for a duvet. There was nothing to cover with. Putting his feet to the floor, the man sat on the bed. The clock showed 11 AM. The lingerie, a red dress and wide mesh fishnets on the chair next to him. "Must have had a blast alright yesterday night", - he smiled. The whirl of the coffee machine was coming from the kitchen. "She's brave, wasn't afraid to stay" - the man concluded. He got up, pulled his pants on, and headed to the kitchen to make/brew some coffee. Red shoes? were lying around near the door. The man stopped at the doorway to admire his prey.

The girl was sitting on the sofa wrapped in the stolen duvet. With her knees pressed tightly to her breast, she was watching TV and drinking her coffee. Her flush, her dimples, her green sleepy eyes and such a defenselessness that just called to come and hug.

'Morning! Sorry I swiped the duvet... Weren't you cold?'

I have this habit, I don’t wake up right away and loiter around? wrapped in a duvet… - the girl said. - Have a seat, I’ll share! - patting the seat beside her with a coquettish smile.

-I’ll just go grab a coffee and be right back, - he answered.

He then joined her on the sofa, covered himself with a blanket and laid his head on her shoulder. The girl was silent. She was watching a strange TV program:

‘Lately we got used to loose morals, we’ve been disregarding the rules of behavior and we’ve forgotten universal human values’, - the presenter was saying, - ‘We are living at such a rapid pace that we don’t even notice the things happening. The life of one more person has ended today, Anna Karamzina, a Saint-Petersburg resident’. Then a helicopter footage was shown: a crowd of onlookers, reporters, policemen, and blood stains on the asphalt.

A tearful old woman appeared in the frame.

-How was she living if even at forty she didn’t look around! - she was sobbing, -I told her ‘Anya, what is going to happen next?’ but she went all, ‘Stay away, mom, it’s none of your business really, don’t nag me’ and went away.

‘And then came back with whoever she could... One day she came alone, totally sad, closed herself up in her bedroom and wouldn't let anyone in. She just kept carrying that crap around…’

The TV presenter's voice comes on:

- Anna was 42 years old, severely depressed and...

- Yeah, and hit her head on the pavement,’ the man continued for him, ‘Let's put on something more upbeat’.

- There's nothing on anyway.

- Come on, you're not interested in suicides, are you? - the man objected.

- I don't know," the girl answered uncertainly, wondering about the resemblance of their fates, "I guess I'm still reeling from yesterday... By the way, how's your head?’

He smiled and answered lowering his eyes:

- Empty, just like your mug.

The girl looked into it: it was indeed empty. Without noticing that the coffee had run out, she kept lifting the mug to her lips. ‘It must have looked silly’.

- How old are you? - the reen eyes asked, changing the subject.

-Turning thirty-one in the fall. Old?

- No, - she said, looking embarrassed, and tried to change the subject again.-You're a pretty good dancer, though.

- For an old man?

- Why are you harping on ‘the old man’? Are you mad?

- Why would I be mad? Maybe I am as good a dancer as you are," he answered confidently.

- Well, when you’re high, maybe.

- Tell me you weren't high yourself!

- Do you think ecstasy is a drug?

- Why not, if it gives you a buzz?

- It's just an antidepressant. Beer became obsolete, so they found a replacement for it. I can't do without it... Ecstasy, music, dancing - those are my love, - she said dreamily, rolling her eyes.

- At least you have love, I don't even have this.

She glanced sidelong at him, giggled, and moved closer. Something was definitely not going on as usual. The man suddenly became cold and unapproachable.

- What animals we are," he said, turning away from her.

- Hey, what’s gotten into you?

- Igor!" he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

The girl did not immediately understand what was going on. Perceiving the absurdity of the situation,
Then, the absurdity of the situation dawning on her, she jump up, threw a blanket on, and prepared to leave.

- What a moron! - she muttered.

- What? - Igor asked.

- Marina! Or just Marie…- she said as she was leaving the room. Igor looked at her as if he was evaluating her.

- And where are you off to?

- You're already asking "where"? How original!

Suddenly Igor felt something unknown, as if he wanted to stop her, to make her stay, but he remained seated and stared blankly at the TV screen, which was advertising something as usual.

- Surely each of us has asked the question, "What is happiness?" at least once, but has not found a single answer, which is not surprising, since there is no answer. Happiness comes and goes, just like any desire, which is also impermanent.

That was followed by the fragments of interviews with different people.

- I want a car, Mom, I want a red car," cried a little boy whose mother was trying to pull him away from the toy shelf.

Then a miserable, sobbing woman appeared, pushing everyone away.

- I don't want anything, get away from me, go away, leave me alone," she screamed in tears.

Next, a horny student addressed the viewers:

- I want someone, not something, but to get that someone without something... Well, I think you kinda get me, don't you?

A group of old people was shown.

- Oh, honey, what can I want, I've already seen everything, except my grandchildren... - said one old lady to another.

A room with a thousand test tubes filled with liquids appeared. A man in a white coat (apparently, a scientist) was holding a flask with green-colored contents.

- I want to finish what was started. I need nothing more.

The presenter appeared again.

- And what do you want? - he turned to the viewer.

A running line appeared on the screen, and a pleasant female voice said:

- "Send the answer to the question 'What do I want?' to our website, and you'll have a chance to win the “Babylon Revival” and a million-dollar prize! Answer the question "What is happiness?" and become happy. You can find more information on our website. Good luck!
While Igor was watching TV, Marie put on her dress, picked up her purse, and was about to leave. Suddenly she noticed the phone lying on the bed.

She dialed her own number on it, called and then deleted the dialed number from the phone. Igor noticed her silhouette flashing in the hallway and went out to say goodbye. While she was putting on her shoes, he watched her movements without looking away. There was a kind of melancholy in his eyes.

- Won’t even say goodbye? - Igor asked.

Marie was silent, opened the door, but suddenly stopped, as if something was preventing her from getting out. She turned around, and, with a swift movement, pulled him to her and kissed him.

- I'll find you, - Marie said and walked out.

Igor grinned broadly, closed the door, walked into the bedroom, and flopped down onto the bed. He was overwhelmed with youthful joy, and his thoughts were rushing frantically through his head. Relaxed, he lied daydreaming, completely unaware of how mich time had passed. Suddenly the phone rang. Reluctantly he picked it up.

- Hello, old man! Still asleep? - the voice sounded painfully familiar.

- Hey, Ben, no, I'm awake, just lying around. How are you? - Igor asked.

- So-so. Very bored. Why don't you come over for a smoke?

- Yeah, OK... Look, I had a great night!

- Great, you’ll tell me all about it then. See you soon! - his friend cut him off and hung up.

Ben didn’t like talking on the phone, opting for a personal face-to-face interaction: he liked arguing, joking, and when he got drunk, he would become serious and harsh in his judgments.

Igor took his time getting ready, got behind the wheel of his car and drove to meet his friend. On the way he remembered Ben's bizarre biography, which he often and happily retold, changing details depending on the audience.

He said that he was born and raised in Australia, and his mother died in a car accident, and all he knew about his father was that he was Russian. After his mother died, Ben went out in search of his father. How he got to Russia and found him remains a mystery. His father helped him get a higher education and get a job as a sales representative of a large trading company that was opening branches abroad. He managed to see countries that some people don't even know existed. Igor was driving by the Rossiya Hotel in St. Petersburg, where Ben was staying. Music from the mid-80s was playing in !!! the car. Igor noticed his friend buying beer at the kiosk.

He looked great, emulating the idols he wanted to resemble: light-colored flares, a crocodile leather belt, brown Steel boots, a trendy checkered flat cap, an expensive brown jacket, and a tight white T-shirt on his athletic torso - all this made him look even more confident. Getting out of the car, Igor felt the afternoon chill. He zipped up his jacket and, afraid of getting cold, hurried toward the stall. Ben noticed him, but pretended not to - he started arguing about something with the saleswoman, but as soon as he got a little closer, Ben turned around abruptly to hugged his friend.

Getting comfortable in the car, Ben threw beer on the back seat.

- Where to now? - Igor asked.

- Well, - Ben started casually, taking out a pre-prepared joint, - there's a museum of erotica near Sennaya. Sober people and non-potheads are not allowed there.

- What are you talking about? - Igor muttered in reply.

- Let's go! You'll find out, - Ben said vaguely.

The car drove off while Ben kept joking about something noble and vulgar: girls, luxury, beer and politics.

The sidewalks were empty, as always. Townsfolk tended to ignore paths, preferring instead the sewers called subway. They had long stopped admiring the city that Alexandre Dumas himself had once favored and which they got accustomed to. However, the lack of interest is not surprising, because no one wants to get more and more disappointed in their hometown, breathing the fragrance of the sewers with every step they took. It's much faster to get around the city in a sports car with a European air freshener. To look at everything through mirrored glasses or tinted windows, stopping outside brand-name stores, setting the car alarm and hearing that reassuring ‘beep-beep’.

Far from sober and slightly stoned, they stopped.

- It's a store! - Igor exclaimed in bewilderment.

- It's a museum! - Ben said confidently.

- A museum, then? - Igor asked.

- A museum," Ben confirmed.

- Ah, a museum! - Igor shrieked with laughter as he went inside.

In the store, or rather, in the museum, they were not bored.

The guffaws of two stoned guys from the third floor could even be heard in the house next door.

The guards quickly escorted them out of the store, where they mostly sold perfume.

- Did you see her face? - Ben asked, still laughing.

- Yes, it's... it's..." he wanted to say something, but convulsed with hysterical laughter.

Ben laughed as he was looking at Igor’s car and couldn't figure out what was wrong with it.

- Hey, what generation is your Mustang? - Ben asked, breathing heavily. - I ain't never seen a model like that before. Probably a rarity, right? - he went on, trying to sound as serious as possible, but the question only sent Igor into another fit of laughter

- Why are you laughing, I'm serious, - Ben said in a calm voice.

Igor tried to straighten up and catch his breath to explain the reason for such ecstatic joy.

- Think about it. Where could I, an ordinary journalist, get the money, eh? - said Igor, hinting at the simple truth.

- Hmm ... And what is it then? - Ben asked.

- "Datsun", for twenty thousand... rubles.

- Then why is there a horse on it?

- Because it looks better, that's why! - Igor exclaimed excitedly.

This time Ben exploded:

- You might as well put a jaguar, - he was crying with laughter, -Or.... Or rather a deer... just like the owner...

- You're... you're quite a deer yourself. Get in, let's go... - Igor answered, dragging Ben into the car.

"The day went well," Igor decided, "the girl, the friend, the weed... I wish it could always be like this.

*This day a thousand people answered the question "What do I want?"

Chapter 2 - Your place or mine?

The kings of the earth were immoral with her, and those who dwell
on the earth were intoxicated with the wine of her immorality.
Revelation 17:2

For three days, Marie thought about Igor's unusual behavior. All men, when alone with her, thought only of sex; most guys probably wouldn't even wonder what her name was. And the fact that he pulled back from her without finding out her name first seemed strange. Maybe he was just a decent man. Perhaps we should call him.

Igor was a journalist, and his entire job consisted of facts, their interpretation, and constant typing. From the outside it might have seemed boring, but he liked it because it helped him share and spread his ideas.

Igor was writing an article on conformism, he was fascinated, and his fingers were fluttering over the keyboard, performing an unknown dance, which was interrupted by the call.

- Hello.

- Hello, can you recognize me? - asked a coquettish female voice.

- Marie?

- You got it. How are you?

- I'm working now. And how did you get my number?

- It's a secret. Weren't you expecting my call? - The girl rebuked him.

- Yes, why! I'm very glad. Do you want to meet?

- Sure!!!

- Come over at 6:30pm. Your place or mine?

- My place is a mess, I'd rather come to you.

- Come on over. Wait in the waiting room, okay?

- All right. Won't the boss get envious? Cause I can get a bit mischievous.

- Don't worry, he can handle it. I don't think the secretary can, though, she's had a crush on me for a long time. Okay, write down the address.

As soon as Igor hung up, Marie ran to the mirror. She decided to look stunning, so she put on a short deep cleavage dress.

Two hours later the girl was already sitting in the reception, annoying the angry secretary with her provocative appearance.

- Who are you waiting for?

- Igor," Marie drawled softly.

There were no more questions, an awkward silence hung in the air. Another visitor was sitting opposite Marie, but the secretary continued to stare at the girl, paying him no attention. To piss her off even more, Marie went through her purse and dropped her lipstick as if by accident. She bent down to get it, so that the man could appreciate the beauty of her figure.

She lifted her head and caught his gaze, the embarrassment on his face. Sneaking a glance from the secretary to Marie, the visitor stopped at the latter, as if to say, "You are better!”

Finally Igor finished his work and entered the reception room. Marie took him under the arm. He was pleasantly surprised by this gesture. They headed for the exit, like a happy couple. The man looked on with envy while the receptionist even stood up to look after them. The couple got into Igor's car.

-Got ‘em! - Marie exclaimed.

- What do you mean?

- Never mind. Where shall we go? - she asked, realizing that he hadn't noticed anything.

- Do you want to go somewhere?

- I want a smoke. Do you want one?

- You're quick. I wouldn’t mind, but only at home," said Igor approvingly. This made Marie laugh, as if she was going to smoke in the car.

- I see, - she said in response. - Anyway, is it your apartment?

- Are you claiming the place? - he hinted.

Marie sulked.

- Don't sulk, the apartment is really mine, so no one would mind if we have a little fun," Igor said encouragingly, pinching her cheek.

- Leave me alone!" she said, pulling his hand away. - - Great you have your own apartment, few have this luxury.

- It cost me quite a lot as well.

- And how much?

- It cost me…a lot of work.

- Work? - Marie was surprised.

- I haven’t yet finished the university. I got hired as a temporary journalist... There was a contest for the best article in the country at the time. I won, kept my job, and the apartment was the prize.

- Cool! What did you write about?

- About officers sleeping in units, because they're not getting any apartments, and about how the Minister of Internal Affairs has been fooling the president for a long time.

- Is that so?

- Well... - the guy shrugged his shoulders indefinitely, -Also about betrayal, about treason to the motherland... I finished the article by saying that it's a shame to talk about patriotism!

- So, you got an apartment, and what about them? Still without a place to live?

- Of course they are. It's the squeaky wheel that gets the grease… - laughing, Igor finished his story and stopped the car. - Here we are!

They went up to the third floor. Igor opened the door, letting the girl go forward. Marina slipped into the room, quickly kicked off her shoes, and ran into the kitchen. Igor was very surprised, and once again made sure that he had never met such a nimble girl. He followed her.

- Do you have any proper food? - Marie asked, going through his refrigerator.

- You're hungry! Embarrassment of riches, isn’t it? - he joked.

- Oh, come on. I want to make dinner, it's been a long time since I've done any housework.

- Go ahead, since you're so brave. There's meat in the fridge, spices and rice on the shelf. I assume it's pilaf?

- Well, pilaf is too strong a word, more like rice and meat, - replied Marie, noticing the apron on the hook. - Yours? Are you wearing it?

- Me? No! It's from my ex.

- And... How long ago?

Igor lowered his gaze, silently approached Marie, hugged her and whispered in her ear:

- Let's not talk about it.

"Who was this girl who suddenly interrupted them, coming between us? Why was she still in his life?" These questions flashed through her mind, but Marie decided not to dwell on them and began cooking.

when he smelled fried meat, Igor returned to the kitchen, where work was in full swing. Marie was standing by the stove, and the aroma wafting from there was overwhelming.

He came closer, touched her shoulder, said he would make dessert, and left. The serving was finished. Marie hung up her apron, dimmed the lights, and lit the candles.

The table was set beautifully, the only thing missing was a bottle of wine. It was replaced by a hookah, which Igor brought instead of dessert. Over dinner, they chatted, smoked, and teased each other. Only Marie knew how to make a relationship this fast, and Igor was new to it. After the dinner, she went to the shower, and Igor went to the bedroom, where five minutes later the girl returned with two joints.

-Junkie! - Igor joked, inhaling.

Marina inhaled in reply, making a funny face, sticked her tongue out at him, and exhaled the smoke in his face. Igor laughed.

They got high and began chatting about important things in their lives, about the past, about plans for the future, about anything that came to mind when you are stoned. Igor was lying on his side with his face to the girl, looking at her.

- Tell me, how was it with you? - he asked suddenly.

- Well... It's a long story. All of it or just bits and pieces?

- All of it. I'm in no hurry.

- Okay. I'll start at the beginning. When I was a kid, I was overweight. I was really self-consious about it and I was afraid of everything.

Boys teased me, called me ugly, a fat redhead. I was only friends with one girl, Lena, who was short, thin, and read a lot. She would retell everything she read to me, and then I would read what she liked best.

- Are you still prone to obesity? - Igor suddenly asked, rubbing her hair.

- No, and actually never was, - she answered in a slightly disgruntled tone, - It was just something wrong with hormones back then. By the eighth grade, I started to stretch out, but my pimples came, so I didn't go out much. Mostly I stayed home and listened to music. I went to my first disco in the tenth grade - girls dragged me there. It turned out to be not so scary after all. A few guys liked me straight away. I started dating one, another, and another. Thought they liked me. But they just used me. It went on like that until my freshman year, and then this guy Lyosha came along. He told me that I needed to be more confident and that there was nothing to worry about. He got me cocaine, which he thought was a cure for complexes.

The five of us were sitting in the dorm, and the guys wanted me to do two lines at once, but I refused. I didn’t want to do it with them, so I left. I wanted to be on my own for a while.

They didn't want to let me go, but they didn't force me either. When I got to my place, I did make two lines, but I snorted one of them immediately, leaving another one for later. The rush was almost instantaneous, my mood lifted sharply, and I felt good. I closed the door and stood in front of the mirror. I didn't even recognize the girl I saw there. She was beautiful: sleek red hair, green eyes, clear skin, and a slender beautiful body with a great bust. It was then that I realized for the first time how firmly I had got stuck in my own head, I was so far gone I hadn't noticed the changes that had occurred with age. I realized the extent to which I had been withdrawn, fixated on the worst, as if I were on an airplane that was about to crash. The realization that something imminent was about to happen was keeping me restless.

The mirror I was looking in belonged to my roommate, Anya. In the upper left corner hung her heart-shaped picture. She had guys running after her, thinking she was beautiful.

And I stared at the picture and didn't understand what they saw in her, that dyed cow! Her forehead was big, her eyes small, and her chin slightly forward.

I was pretty compared to her, but my low self-esteem didn't let me think so. The roommates took advantage of that: while I was sitting here, they were at a disco, where they clearly had a better chance without me. I did the second line. Looking at my reflection, I stripped naked and, finding no flaw, began to caress myself.

- Nymphomaniac!

- Says the pot to the kettle! You're no better! You caress me just like I would do. But a man's hands make me feel better. Your own caresses make you feel disgusting. I don't know why.

Igor looked down in surprise, not knowing what to say. He had never heard such compliments before. Marie coughed and continued:

- Then I started dating Lyosha and his drug. He told me that I should stop doing it. So I did: I stopped doing cocaine first, and then I stopped doing him, too.

I started going out a lot, changing friends quickly, and taking revenge on the world with my bitchiness for the humiliation of my childhood years: I wouldn’t value them just like they handn’t valued me. The girls I knew would not talk to me, because I often stole boyfriends from them only to dump them. And they got angry, insulted me, and hated me. Poor wimps. I guess I became obsessed with it.

I dated four, five guys at once. I'd get an affection and then throw them away like a broken thing. My phone would hardly stop ringing. Once it vibrated all day, while I lied there drunk, counting the calls. When I counted forty-eight, I turned it off. A lot of broken hearts wanted to see me, but I just laughed at them and didn't want anything more. This went on for a year and a half, until one day, Anya said looking at me that it was time for me to see a psychiatrist. Soon I realized it myself. I was terribly depressed. I turned off my phone, skipped classes, stared at the ceiling, and ate nothing. I decided I'd do whatever it took to beat the depression. So, I went to a dealer I knew and got shot up. And he banged me...

- I'm sorry, are you still...

- What's the matter with you? It was just once! How could you think that! - she interrupted him.

- I didn't! And what happened next? - Igor asked.

- It wasn't long until the end of the course. I skipped classes all the time, went to them without notebooks, the teachers didn't like me, they wanted to flunk me in exams, but they didn't succeed - I finished school well. In the summer I got a part-time job on a farm and smoked with some hippies. One of them was named Stas. He had heard a little about me. I decided to hit on him, but he blew me off, saying I was a "real bitch," and he didn't go out with that kind of girls. That hurt my feelings. He was the nicest guy in the group. He was sweet with the other girls, talking about nature, about real universal love, which he called "agape”. If guys argued with him, they usually lost. He showed no interest in me, but I had a crush on him. I was waiting for the right moment to catch him, grab him, and never let him go again. And that moment finally arrived. He was high as a kite, I caught up with him, we got to talking, and I got what I wanted. It was the craziest and the longest of my affairs.

It lasted almost two years. I wore dreadlocks, listened to Rastaman music, smoked hash and revered Bob Marley as God.

In the fall, the girls couldn’t recognize me: I was completely calm and even made friends with them. I became a "peaceful little angel" to them, who hardly ever was not high.

After all, one probably shouldn't smoke like me and Stas. It got to the point where I would stare at one point and sometimes talk to myself during the class. I adored our philosopher, who also smoked; you could tell by looking at him. Like real hippies, we used to go on vacations in the countryside.

Later on my parents got worried and started watching me outside my dorm, but I never showed up. One day I came out after classes wearing shorts, sneakers (I didn't always shave my legs), a white T-shirt with cannabis on it, a military backpack on my back, big headphones on my head, a cigarette in my mouth. That's how I looked when my parents met me. My mother broke in tears, my father got angry. They made a scene, took me to the dean, as if it was his fault.

I told them that studying had nothing to do with it, but they wouldn't listen. Then I said a lot of hurtful things to them. I didn't go home, spent the whole summer with Stas. We lived in a cabin at the edge of the forest, in the company of Castaneda, hallucinogens, and fly agarics.

The next year turned out to be the last year of this madness. Stas changed the drug and changed the girlfriend. When I came back to my dorm, I was very upset. The girls, of course, tried to comfort me, but I cried about him for a long time.

- Well, you got what you deserved, didn’t you?...

- I thought he loved me! And he.... Anyway, I was disappointed, so I decided to distract myself with studies. As luck would have it, my studies went downhill. As usually happens, you don't study and you know everything, but when you do, you start to get confused. I thought I'd smoked my brains out, - finished the year with two "C's". I spent the summer with my parents, like a good girl. Fifth year's passed...

- It's a long story, -Igor interrupted.

- Not much left, then your turn.

- Okay, go on.

- All in all, the fifth year was over. I had tried to find a job for a long time, finally I found a position in a pharmacy. They pay better than the hospital.

I was into punk for a while, but then I got hooked on ecstasy and acid house. I'm still into it, and my looks are a mask to keep jerks away. For the time I’ve just glanced at them, they'll have thought twice - or more like a hundred times - about whether or not to approach me. You're braver than the others, and you're not a jerk, so I'm here, - she concluded, smiling.

- So you like me? But I'm not brave at all, if that's what you think.

- Doesn’t matter, I want to know your story.

- Okay... So my dad's an asshole. - the guy took a puff and continuedб - My mother was a teacher. When I was four years old, they divorced. I found out the reason later. My father raped a woman, she gave birth, and he paid alimony. When my mother found out, she filed for divorce. Dad ran away. Since then, my half-brother Anton and I were raised by my mother and Aunt Zoya. Together we enrolled for journalism, but he dropped out right away, and I got reinstated twice and graduated with great difficulty. Anton became a pastor and I became a scribe.

- So you have a brother who is a priest.

- Pastor!

- Never mind. Let's talk about the main thing.

- Ah... That! - he remembered the past. - I lost my virginity in the ninth grade, at prom night. Then I fell in love with a girl at school, we dated for over two years. Then I caught her with another guy and slept with her friend myself. Then I saw these two girls fighting in the kitchen and found out it was because of me. Anyway, I was disappointed in you girls and I haven't sworn my love to anyone since. Dated for one purpose," he looked at her sideways, "you know.

Then, when I was twenty-three something in me changed - I wanted to meet a good woman... I thought myself a hero, who would give her a family, children, who would love and protect her.

And a special girl appeared in my life. She walked by - and changed my life for the next seven years. All day long I remembered her, a week later I met her again, found out where she was studying, and left my old dreams behind forever. I dated this girl for five years, then we moved in, wanted to get married, but then we had a big fight.

I hit her, she called me a "heartless bastard”. We broke up. Now we sometimes call each other, sometimes we spend a night together, but in the morning for some reason I feel like running away - we can't be together, even though we got each other so well…

- Do you love her? - Marie asked seriously.

- I didn't tell her that...

- What do you mean you didn't tell her? Do you love her or not?

- I don't know! I don't want to talk about it...

- Maybe another joint then?

- Definitely.

- You've got some really cool fish," Marie said, nodding at the fish tank on the nightstand by the bed.

*The show was two months away.

Chapter 3. I want to be the queen of the seven mountains

The seven heads are seven mountains, on which the woman sitteth
Revelation 17:9

Two weeks passed since that night. Marie often stayed at Igor's house. Ben had been away on business all the time and only came to town for a couple of days. Igor was so excited about his friend's arrival that he rescheduled a meeting with his brother, whom he hadn't seen in three months. After a firm handshake and a pat on the shoulder, they began to chat about what was important in their lives.

- So what, a shameless red-haired girl! I slept with an old woman the other day, - grinned Ben.

- An old woman! And how old was she? - Igor asked.

- Sixty-seven,’ he answered, putting another ball in the pocket.

- It's a goddamn disease, when you're attracted to old women! What's the name... - Igor tried to remember, watching his movements.

- Nonsense. Stereotype. People are cowards by nature, they cannot cross the line, because they are afraid of being judged. They don't want rumors, they don't want to be maligned and destroyed, like geniuses like Oscar Wilde were once destroyed. 
The ball didn't make it to the hole, and Ben gave the turn to his friend.

- Well, yeah... It's easy for you to say, you don't stay anywhere for long. That's why you're not afraid of rumors,’ Igor answered, hitting the ball.

- And this is exactly why I am free from prejudices and all kinds of authority,’ Ben continued, leaning on the cue. - I just don't exist, I'm just a shadow. Recklessness makes me wiser. I take everything from life in every way. Many repeat this cliché, though they are not worthy of life itself. They have only crumbs and feed on its scraps, but they say they ‘take everything from life’. I hate those miserable arrogant people. ‘Everything’ isn't just drinking beer in a pub and going out with women. ‘Everything’ is not what's on the surface, but what's hidden and hard to reach.

‘Hmm,’ Igor muttered.

- It is a treasure that is found only by those who bury themselves alive, who decompose under the weight of their own standards of decency. Of that line which has long been crossed, so there's no point in going back. This is the only way to get that very ‘everything’. And those who fear this line are cowards, not even worthy of Satan's praise. They cannot admit that they are dead. I'm already dead and I've made my peace with it. I take everything that I desire, and I will face the death I am preparing for with pride.

‘You must be thinking how I could sleep with her if she is old. No, my friend, she is not old, but wise and young at heart. Only the body dies, the soul always remains young, learnt to understand a man. While the young are all naive, they look for the men they imagined. They try to try their standards on us and don't even wonder if they fit us at all! They imagine their own men, and then blame them for the lack of manhood which they have no idea about! They're fools! And that old woman didn't have it in her; she had so much love, unknown to young women, that I was overwhelmed with a desire to possess her over and over again. It was the love of a body that had endured the agony of birth. It was the unconditional love of a mother. Do you know what I'm talking about?
Igor missed his ball and gave way to Ben.

- Not really, but I couldn't have done that!

- And maybe it's for the best, - Ben said sadly. - One of American Indians’ legends has it that a man got his strength from a jaguar, his mind from a snake and his eye from a hawk, but was not satisfied anyway. Do you know why?

- They didn't teach how to fly?

- Not flying, planes can do that.

- Because it wasn’t enough?

- Exactly! Because there isn't enough, and there is never enough. Even when the earth has nothing left to give, there will always be not enough for a man. This is why children are happy in their foolishness, and we grieve in our wisdom.

- As the saying goes, ‘He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow’.

- Yes, it seems that Solomon was right. Except his wisdom isn't enough for me, I want more,’ Ben said as he accidentally put the wrong ball in the pocket and lost the game. - Shit! Didn't Solomon and Confucius happen to meet? The latter used to say that a wise man knows no sorrow. Which of them is right? The one who mourned or the one who rejoiced? The one who believed in the Hebrew God, or the one who gained much more wisdom, even though he didn't know that God? I don't understand why it happened this way: the one who believed got his doubts, and the one who didn't know - gained. Maybe because one lost the fear of God while acquiring wisdom, and the other had no fear, and therefore did not know sorrow...

Igor thought about his friend just said.

- Soon I will find out myself. I'm leaving for India tomorrow. I'll call you when I get back.

‘Okay,’ Igor answered.

Igor’s brother and his large family lived in a cabin near the Protestant church where he served. His family always welcomed him. Brothers had just started greeting when a whole crowd of happy children ran up to Igor and threw themselves at him. Ksenia, Anton's wife, looked out of the bedroom to nod to Igor, and continued to cradle her youngest daughter. Anton had five children, he loved them very much, but did not spoil them, and at times he could even be strict with them. When the children calmed down, the brothers went out on the porch.

- How are you, Igor?

- The same stuff, you know: work, articles. I saw Ben today. The kids are growing by leaps and bounds, as I can see!

- Yes, - my brother laughed, - this they are great at, we don't have time to buy clothes!

- I  know!

Anton nodded, took a deep breath and continued:

- You know, I want to tell you something important. - Igor became alarmed. - The Bible says in the Acts 2:17, "Your young men will see visions”. Well, I’ve had the same dream twice," Anton began slowly. - Remember that commercial? - He moved his hand, tapping his fingers one against the other, as if that helped him remember. - Well, where happiness is offered.

- Right...

- Do you remember that presenter?

- I do... What’s with him?

- Well, I had a dream that you and I were having tea, just like now. Suddenly your phone rings, you answer it, you talk about something, you hang up and say you've lost someone, and you go looking for them. I keep drinking my tea, the TV is on, they show this presenter, and then this guy announces the winner, and he says your name. You go on stage, and they hand you a box of money and offer to take it. You say you want to turn it down, and they tell you that one doesn't turn down things like that. You take it and hold it out to me through the screen. I woke up wer with sweat," he finished, taking a sip of tea.

- So you mean to tell me that God is telling you that I'm going to get a lot of money and give it to charity? -
Anton laughed.

- No, you don't understand! I think He means wealth. I don't know what kind: maybe salvation, maybe initiation, maybe a lot of money indeed! I really don't know! I don't have the gift of interpreting dreams. But I prayed about the meaning of this dream, and He just told me to retell it to you.

- Oh, great! You know, I think it's money after all - there’s never too much! - Igor laughed.

- Yes, it's hard to argue with that, - Anton confirmed. - Where are you going now?

- Home.

- Hmm, what are you going to do?

Igor grimaced.

- You won't like it!

They exchanged a look.

- Well, well, you've found yourself a problem again!

Igor raised an eyebrow and stared at Anton.

- And now you're judging me.

- I'm not judging you! Although, - he said, - the human heart is deceitful. I'm sorry, I must be that kind of man, and yes...

- Don't make excuses! Christ died for you. Isn't that what you teach? 

Anton nodded, not knowing what to answer. 

- I know your tricks, your excuses all in the name of Christ! What was it that you said about the tongue: "The tongue is in such a place that it defiles both the body and the soul. Is that what it says?

- Not exactly, it's the third chapter of James...

- Not the point,- Igor interrupted him. - You know what I'm talking about. Whenever I come to you, you come at me with this Christ thing! Man, you can't just be my brother without this bullshit!

- Igor, I'm sorry, I don't understand what's going on? Why did you get so worked up? - Igor looked away. - Do you hear me?

- I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me, I must have had too much to drink," he got up from the table.

- Do you want me to walk you home?

- No, that's okay, I'll walk home.

- It was good seeing you.

- You too, brother. Just don't judge me, okay? It's not good for you! - Igor winked smiling.

- It's alright, brother! God bless you!

- You too!

Igor came home tired. Sitting down on the bed, illuminated by the dim light, he reflected on the day gone by. Marie was lying facing the window.

- What took you so long? Where have you been? - she asked through sleep.

- At my brother's..." he answered sadly.

- Did something happen?

- Nothing.

She sat up and hugged him and asked:

- "What were you and your brother talking about?

- As usual, about eternal things.

Marie smiled, lying on her side again.

- What's so funny?

- It's not worth worrying about.

- And I'm not! - He objected, turning to Marie with his face.

- Oh, do you think I'm blind? Come on, spill it, what were we talking about?

Igor laughed.

- It was just a hard day is all!

- Did he invite you to church? - Marie asked mockingly.

- Well, yes! - Igor confirmed. - Again with his tricks, only now he tried to play prophet on me. He's gone crazy - he thinks that God has a mission for me! Well, look at me, do I look like the Messiah?

- If only a little, - said the girl playfully, and laughed.

She saw the marks of a sleepless night on his face, unshaven, reeking of booze, his hair disheveled. She kind of liked him like that, though.

- I'll get you! - he grabbed a pillow and started playfully hitting Marie with it. She squealed and giggled. Igor covered her head with the pillow, pretending to start strangling her, then threw the it aside and began kissing the girl. However, Marie asked a question that stopped him:

- Do you yourself believe in God? - she asked.

- Me? - Igor pulled back and squatted down. - It's a hard question for me. Anton and I grew up together, so we often argued. I read the Bible, too, so I had my points. I even wrote an essay on "Revelation of John" for a philosophy class at university. That's why I can't answer that right off the bat.

Marina regretted asking that. She wanted to turn it all into a joke for foreplay, but Igor didn't appreciate the attempt.

- Have you read the Bible yourself? - he turned to her.

- I started,- Marie yawned, trying to show that she wasn't interested. - But it was so boring: Adam gave birth to Abraham, Abraham gave birth to Isaac, Isaac gave birth to Newton, Newton gave birth to Mechanics, Mechanics gave birth to… - she started laughing, but quickly stopped when she saw that Igor did not take the joke.

- It's not just that, I even have my favorite places, shall I tell you?

She didn't particularly want to hear it, but she knew there was nothing she could do now.

- Of course I do,- she confirmed, thinking to herself, "Holy crap, what have I interrupted”

- Really? - Igor asked as if provoking.

She pouted and answered:

- Of course! What kind of joke is that!

- I believe it,- he said with a smile, but then got serious again. - Some parts of the Bible are the prophecies. I'm amazed at the consistency of these legends. And the place that interests me the most is chapter 13, where it goes about the coming of the Antichrist and about his number 666.

- The ones from the movies?

- More precisely, movies are based on the book: "Omen", "End of the World" with Schwarzenegger; "Judgment Day" and others. Lots of them were made on the subject, and all of them were rubbish! "Metropolis" was pretty good, but they distorted the plot so much that the movie lost its initial idea.

- I hadn't really thought about it. If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have known. You shouldn't have said that about the movies, though, - 'Omen' seemed all right…

-It doesn't matter! - he interrupted her. - I wish there was a Bible, it would be easier to remember everything.

"Thank God there isn’t one," thought Marie, "He might as well start reading!"

- Come on, tell me, I'm so interested!

- All right, I'll try to remember. Anyway. John was the last of the twelve apostles. He was hiding in prison under a false name, where he wrote the Book of Revelation, which is at the very end of the Bible. And he wrote it from a dream he saw. An angel appeared to him and began to reveal mysteries. John saw God sitting on a throne, and He revealed to him the mystery of the book hidden behind the seven seals. Each seal revealed a new vision. The apostle first prepared himself to read the book, then opened the seals. When he opened the last one, he ate the book, which "will make your stomach bitter, but in your mouth it will be sweet as honey.”

- The book must be harder than dope, or they haven't invented dope like that yet! - Marie remarked jokingly.

- In any case, a man cannot understand it. John wrote it as God allowed him to, that is, he did not tell everything, and perhaps it wasn’t not entirely preserved. There is a repetition of sevens, events overlapping one another and hiding the original meaning. It is kind of a puzzle. "If one is wise and has an understanding to count the number of the beast, which is also the number of a man, the number comes to 666." It may be the number of people with the stigma. There are more than 7 billion people now. It may be a place, and it's America, judging by the flag, or maybe it's one person through whom this will come. So it's not really clear. And the numbers are repeated, only adding a mystery, like 7 seals, 7 churches, 7 candlesticks, 7 days.

- And seven deadly sins, - Marie added.

- And where did that come from?

- From the “Seven” movie.

- See, the coincidences, the magic of numbers. John opens the seals, revealing another human calamity, but until 144,000 righteous men from the 12 tribes of Israel die in the name of Christ, the cup of wrath will not be poured out on the earth.

- So the world won't end until hundreds of thousands of people die in agony? - she asked, barely able to contain her laughter.

- What hundreds of thousands of people are you talking about? I said: the righteous men.

Marie couldn't hold back any longer and burst out laughing.

- Now you look like a priest - you're trying to make me feel miserable" said Marie.

- It's like you weren’t listening!

- No! I was listening, I'm just not very good at understanding such things!

- Well, when it starts, a third of the planet's population will die, a third of the earth's life will die, a third of the moon and the sun will be darkened, the Devil will appear and give power to the Antichrist, he will rule for 42 months, then the Lamb of God will come and overpower him. The earth will open up, "...great Babylon will blossom like a rose, Christ will pour out the cup of his wrath upon it. And the city will fall, the great harlot, the queen of the seven mountains, for she has made all nations drunk with the wine of the wrath of her fornication," Igor ended.

- Do I look like a "great harlot"? - Marie asked, repeating Igor's words.

- Not exactly, but I like your wine!

- Just listen to the sound of it, "harlot," - she said in a chorus.

- My harlot, - Igor kissed her.

- Now drink my wine, if you do not want to remain without sweetness, for I am the queen of the seven mountains! - Marie whispered to him, satisfied that he had stopped talking and finally paid attention to her.

The neighbors that night could not sleep.

*More than a million people applied for the show.

Chapter 4. I Want Nothing

“Son of man, behold, I am about to take the delight of your eyes away from you at a stroke; yet you shall not mourn or weep…”
Ezekiel 24:16

A month later, Igor began to notice that Mari was gradually leaving her things at his place. The second toothbrush had long stopped sticking out like a sore thumb. Her underwear and cosmetics had taken up residence in his apartment. He decided to call her to test his suspicions, but he couldn’t find his phone for a while. After turning the apartment upside down, he finally found it in his jacket pocket. As he dialed her number, he spotted a notice on the nightstand saying a package from India had arrived for him. “Maybe from Ben?” Igor thought as he called Mari.

– Hey! You at work?

– Yeah. Hey! Something up?

– Nah, nothing major. Got a package from India. Wanna come pick it up with me?

– Is it from Ben?

– Probably. It doesn’t say.

– Listen, maybe you can go alone? I’ll stay over at your place tonight and whip up something for dinner.

– Sounds good, – Igor replied.

A couple of hours later, the package was in his hands. He was about to tear it open but stopped himself. “What if it’s something like the Kama Sutra or some weird stuff? Ben’s got a knack for those kinds of pranks. Better open it with Mari—she’ll probably get a kick out of it.” Igor returned home, where Mari, as promised, was cooking dinner. He kissed her on the cheek.

– What’s in the package?

– Dunno, haven’t opened it yet. Wanna check it out together?

– If it’s some kind of gift from Ben, maybe we should open it over dinner?

– Great idea! It’s been a month since we heard from Ben! Bet it’s something cool and exotic!

– I love exotic stuff.

Over a delicious dinner, they joked and teased about what could be in the package. After finishing, Igor poured wine into their glasses and opened the box. Inside was an urn with ashes, an envelope with a letter, and another smaller envelope.

Hello, Igor!
My name is Ann Cornell. I’m researching temples near the city of Sagara. I met Ben in Delhi; he was planning to return to Russia, while I had just arrived. We got to talking, and he decided to join me in Sagara. He thought the temples there were dedicated to Kali, the goddess of death and destruction. I was impressed by his knowledge, but I didn’t think much about why he was so interested in death. We spent two weeks together in Sagara. As my research was wrapping up, we planned to head back to Delhi. A couple of days before we left, I found him in a temple—dead. He had taken his own life. Besides his body, I found two notes: one for me, asking me to cremate his body, and the other for you.
My deepest condolences.
Ann Cornell.
P.S. I’m sorry you had to learn about this in such a way.

When Igor finished reading the letter, he froze, and time seemed to slow down. He still had to read the second note, but he noticed Mari was no longer beside him. Igor let out a heavy sigh. From the bathroom, he could hear her retching.

She was on her knees, head over the toilet.

– Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I had no idea what was in that package.

– It’s okay, – she said, spitting. – Sorry, I’m a medic, I’ve seen worse.

– Yeah, I… – Igor spoke, breathing heavily. – Mari, I really didn’t know!

Mari stood up and hugged him.

– Calm down, Igor. These things happen.

Tears welled up in Igor’s eyes. He sighed and held her tightly.

– Sweetheart, I need to read the second letter.

– Of course.

Igor headed to the living room.

– Igor! – He turned around. – Want me to make some strong tea?

– Yeah, sure, – he replied after a brief pause.

Hey, Igor.

You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately—about all sorts of things. Maybe this is too much, but honestly, I don rassembl’t want to wait another five or seven years. It’s not like I’ve got cancer or anything, no, it’s just that I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and sooner or later, it was gonna end this way. So don’t overthink it. Hmm… bet you’re already overthinking. Anyway, this isn’t the first letter I’ve written, but I don’t want to dump too much on you, so let’s cut to the chase.
Remember how I used to fantasize about my ashes drifting over the heads of hundreds of clueless people during some big celebration? How they’d settle in their hair, and they’d have no idea? Well, I think it’s time to make that fantasy real.
Igor, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. No one listened to my crazy ideas with as much enthusiasm as you did. So, listen, if I’ve timed this right, May 9th is coming up. Do an old friend a favor, for old times’ sake…

To my best friend, from Ben.

P.S. You know, I got into poetry here. Check this out!

I never fled from shame or strife,
Too caught in passion’s grip, my life.
I chased desire, sought fleeting bliss,
Climbed sutras high, yet God I missed.

I sought advice, but Ignorance declined,
It seemed to say, though words maligned:
– Moksha will answer all you seek.
I went, but found no peace, just bleak.

A demon stared, his eyes askew:
– Stay here, your company will do.

– In this letter, he’s asking me to scatter his ashes over people’s heads.

– Is he out of his mind?!

– No, but he had his quirks, like everyone!

– Can you imagine how that’d look? Are we supposed to go to the subway and toss ashes around?

– Nah, Ben thought it through. I think he means Palace Square. There’s always thousands of people there during holidays. If we scatter the ashes from a rooftop, the wind from the Neva will carry them across the square.

– And how do you plan to get onto one of those roofs?

– I’ve got a key and a pass. Ben left them. Once, he dared me to climb up, I lost the bet, and we ended up on the General Staff Building’s roof. Sat there drinking beer.

– Wow. Ben sounds like he was a wild one!

– You would’ve liked him! Seriously! So, you in?

– You bet! When else am I gonna get to chill on the roof of the General Staff Building?

– Awesome.

A huge crowd had gathered on Palace Embankment for a free concert. Stars belted out their hits, the crowd cheered, unbothered by the lip-syncing, soaking in the holiday vibe. On the roof of a three-story building stood Igor and Mari. She held the urn with Ben’s ashes. Igor waited for a strong gust of wind.

– Now! – he said to her.

She lifted the lid, and the wind swept Ben’s ashes over the streets of St. Petersburg.

Mari hugged Igor, and they sat down, taking in the view. They loved being on one of the city’s central rooftops, gazing at the beauty of the Northern Capital. The Hermitage and the drawbridges looked stunning from up there. Soon, fireworks lit up the sky.

– You like it?

Mari nodded, her hair fluttering in the wind. She wrapped herself in the coat Igor had shared with her. The feeling she had, those butterflies in her stomach, could only be described as happiness. If Igor had asked her, “What’s happiness?” she’d have answered honestly: “Happiness is this moment!” But his thoughts weren’t with her—they were far off, carried by the wind that scattered Ben’s ashes and his grief.

– No one’s ever given me evenings like this, – she said.

– Notice, I didn’t even try that hard. Just did what I was asked to do a long time ago.

– You’ve done so much more. He opened up a world to me that is better than any drug. And you haven’t even seen it yourself yet. Thank you for being you, – Mari said, resting her head on his shoulder.

They got home late. Igor was so exhausted he passed out immediately. Mari tossed and turned but couldn’t sleep. Moonlight streamed into the room, casting strange shapes on the floor. Sitting on the windowsill, she quietly turned on the radio and lit a cigarette. Outside, a drunk man sat on a bench near the Pushkin monument, singing something. Another guy circled him, then sat down, whispered something in his ear, and they kissed.

“Weirdos,” Mari thought.

The smell of cigarette smoke disturbed Igor’s sleep. He stirred, reaching for Mari. Feeling only an empty bed, he opened his eyes. She was on the windowsill, one leg dangling.

– Why aren’t you sleeping? – Igor asked softly.

– Can’t sleep, – she replied after a pause. – All sorts of nonsense in my head.

– I thought you didn’t smoke! – he noted.

– Only on nights like this, when you’re staring at the moon. You just can’t do it without a cigarette—it feels like something’s missing, – she said, taking another drag. – Moonlight and no tobacco? No way.

– Come on, come back to bed. You’ll feel better.

She didn’t move.

– You ever get like this?

– What, insomnia?

– Yeah.

– Rarely.

– Happens to me every full moon, like something out of Bulgakov. Better get used to it!

They fell silent. From the darkness, the radio faintly played: “Visit our website, and we’ll make your dreams come true…”

– What would you want? – Igor broke the silence.

Mari shrugged, not wanting to answer.

– I don’t know what else I could want either. An apartment in St. Pete? Most people don’t even dream of that, and I’ve got one. A car? Got it. I dress well, I’m dating a beautiful woman, – Mari smiled, – I’ve got everything! Some shady folks might offer me something, but I already have it all! A million bucks wouldn’t hurt, but honestly, I don’t need it.

Mari turned to face him. Without her contacts, she looked natural and stunning. Her eyes were full of love, waiting for him to say something more. But he didn’t notice the love overflowing in her, nor did he show the reciprocation she hoped for.

– Toss me a pillow.

– Why?

– Just do it! – she insisted.

– Here, – he said, throwing the pillow. Catching it, Mari swung it hard at Igor, laughing with glee. He was stunned by her playfulness.

– Oh, you’re gonna get it now, – he teased threateningly. A pillow fight broke out, filled with joyful laughter. It went on for a while. Mari stood while Igor crouched. Suddenly, he grabbed her legs and pulled her onto the bed. She flipped onto her back and whacked him on the head with the pillow, so hard he bumped his forehead against her shoulder. Mari doubled over, squealing in pain. Igor laughed at her, while she shook her head, smiling but unable to laugh.

– You brought this on yourself, you know—started it, got hit, – he teased, starting to soothe her. – Shh, shh, I’ll kiss it better, – he whispered, kissing her hand. She took his hand and pressed it to her chest, letting him feel her heartbeat. Igor looked up, kissed her, and moved to do what’s often called “marital duties.” But Mari pulled back.

– Something wrong? – he asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

– No, just… not now, – she replied.

He pulled her close to his chest, his hand still feeling her heartbeat.

– You never told me what you want, – he said, picking up the earlier topic.

She pressed her head against his chest. She wanted to stay in this moment: feeling his care, hearing his beloved voice, and knowing he was listening to her without interrupting. She could hardly believe her girlish dreams were coming true.

– Right now, I want nothing, – she said, smiling meaningfully and gazing into the distance.

* Two weeks until the show.

Chapter 5. It’s Just a Dream

“O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed, blessed shall he be who repays you with what you have done to us! Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones and dashes them against the rock!”
Psalm 137:8–9

The next morning, Mari woke up feeling vibrant and joyful. She was in a fantastic mood, craving tenderness. Igor wasn’t beside her. She grabbed his pillow, hugged it tightly, and breathed in the scent of his cologne. “Usually I’m the first one up, not him. What a great morning! Maybe he’s planning a surprise, like breakfast in bed?” she thought, settling in to wait.

Ten minutes later, it was clear breakfast in bed wasn’t happening. Igor was at the computer, engrossed in news articles. One caught his eye:

How to Beat Store Queues?
Every day, we face queues in stores, passport offices, and banks. We waste precious minutes on this exhausting, nerve-racking task.
Want to ditch pointless waiting but don’t know how? Now everyone has a chance to stop spending half their life in lines! Hard to believe? It’s true!
The latest breakthrough in modern science is a microchip that reads personal data and tracks finances simultaneously. This innovative technology lives inside you. A glance at your wrist gives you a full financial report. To buy something, just grab it from the shelf, and the scanner at the exit deducts the amount.
The system is already active worldwide, with major companies connecting their stores to this network. The microchip not only verifies your identity and financial status but also monitors your health!
Take a step toward your future! Answer our question, and you could become the first citizen of the “Babylon Reborn” system—and most importantly, WIN 1,000,000 euros!
So… What do you want?

Mari noticed Igor’s focus and approached, massaging his shoulders.

– What’s got you so hooked? – she asked.

– Oh, just some nonsense, – he mumbled.

She plopped onto his lap, grabbed the mouse, and skimmed the article.

– So, what’d you answer?

– I didn’t. Just reading what they’re offering.

– And what’s that?

– Nothing worthwhile. They think they’re some grand utopians, peddling pipe dreams.

– Got it. You know, I never did say what I wanted yesterday…

– Well, spill it! What’re you waiting for?

She typed a response on the website: “I want to be the queen of seven mountains.” Then sent it under her name.

– Oh, you little minx! – Igor exclaimed, playfully pretending to bite her.

– Your turn!

Igor wrote: “I’d say no, but the temptation’s too strong,” and hit send.

– You goof! Do you even know what you’re passing up?

– Oh, you’ve got no idea what you’re in for, – he teased, scooping her up in his arms.

– I’ll show you tonight what it’s like to be with the “great harlot.”

– A surprise?

– You have no idea! You bring the vibe, I’ll bring the imagination. I promise, tonight I’ll make your dreams come true. I love you, – Mari said, brushing his lips with hers. He returned the kiss but said nothing.

Igor planned an unforgettable evening full of passion and allure. He set up a game where Mari was the “great harlot,” the mistress, and he her devoted servant. They both loved it. Mari wore Igor out so much that he crashed right after. He slept on his stomach. She gazed at him for a while, but sleep eventually overtook her too.

The great harlot she imagined herself to be was intoxicated by her own wine. A sense of peace and otherworldly joy washed over her. She floated through the sky, weightless like a cloud, gliding over green valleys. Mari marveled at forests and lakes so clear she could see the creatures in their depths from above. Descending, she realized this wasn’t a park or forest. There were no paths, but instead of fear, this gave her a sense of boundless freedom. Fruits were everywhere. She was so happy she spun and sang until she reached a hill and tumbled down it. The grass was soft as silk. Mari rubbed her cheek against it, closing her eyes, trying to dream of something, but dreams felt distant, belonging to another world—a world of unfulfilled hopes.

She opened her eyes, struck by the speed of the clouds and their shifting hues. The grass rustled, the wind swirled fallen leaves, as if beckoning her to follow. She stood, arms outstretched, and ran after it. The wind died down, carrying leaves across a clearing where a lone mango tree stood. Beyond it, a body of water shimmered. The tree sparked a passionate curiosity in Mari. She walked toward it through tall grass. The pleasant emptiness inside her faded, replaced by vague unease. The closer she got, the stronger her curiosity grew. Touching the tree’s trunk, she felt a surge of life in her hands. The lines on her palms now seemed intricate and mysterious. A fruit hung in the canopy, glinting in the sunlight. She reached for it, but it was too high. “Igor could’ve grabbed it easily,” she thought, standing on her tiptoes. Suddenly, a man’s hand plucked the fruit.

Turning, Mari was pleasantly surprised to see Igor.

– Here, – he said, offering her the fruit.

– Thanks!

They sat together. Mari broke the fruit and tasted it—impossibly sweet. Feeling shy, she realized she was naked. To hide, she turned her back to him.

– Want a bite? – she asked hesitantly.

Igor took the fruit and bit into it.

– Doesn’t this dream feel like paradise? – he said.

Mari realized she’d been someone else this whole time—naive but blissful—and the garden did feel like Eden.

– It does, – she said, facing him. – How’d you know this is my dream? Maybe I’m in your dream!

– Nah, – he replied. – I don’t dream like this.

– Is it really you? I mean, not…

– Who else would I be? – he interrupted.

She pressed herself to him, resting her head on his chest, gazing at the lake before them. Caressing each other, they rolled down the grass onto the sandy shore. Igor lay on his back. Mari was lost in pleasure. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a figure walking on water. He shook his head and turned away. Igor took control, pinning her beneath him, his movements causing her sharp pain. She tried to push him off, but he didn’t notice.

Suddenly, the world trembled, turning vile and repulsive. The lake vanished, leaving the lovers alone in a desert. Distant mountains loomed. Dead trees surrounded them, and a rotten mango lay nearby. Igor abruptly pushed Mari away, and she fell. Against the backdrop of seven mountains, she saw a regal woman approaching, a crown on her head. One hand held a nursing child, the other a goblet filled with blood. Mari stood.

– This is your beloved son, – the queen said, offering Igor the goblet. – Drink, and he will never know sorrow or poverty.

The queen stood beside Mari, embracing her. Igor took the goblet, mesmerized by the queen’s gaze. He raised it to his lips, ready to drink. An angel swooped down, touching his shoulder.

– Do not drink, but offer the goblet to your wife, – the angel said.

Igor handed the goblet to Mari, and the queen recoiled in horror.

– Drink, – the angel commanded her.

She took the goblet warily.

– Don’t be afraid. Drink if you want to be queen! – Igor urged.

The angel and Igor watched her with hope, while the queen shook her head in terror, unable to speak. Mari eagerly drained the goblet. The queen trembled, covering her eyes, and dropped the child. He struck a rock and died. The queen opened her eyes, fell to her knees, and let out a gut-wrenching scream.

Mari woke drenched in sweat, tears streaming down her frightened face. Igor held her close, comforting her.

– Shh, shh, my girl. It’s just a dream. I’m here, right beside you. Nothing bad happened. Everything’s okay, – he soothed.

Slowly calming down, sobbing and stumbling over words, Mari recounted her nightmare.

* The winner had been chosen.

Chapter 6. Mutual

“And the Lord God said to the serpent… I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.”
Genesis 3:14–15

The next morning, Igor felt Mari’s warm hand brush his face and opened his eyes.

– Igor…

– Mmm…

– Get up, sweetie, – she insisted, stroking his face.

– Sweetheart! – he smiled. – No more nightmares?

– Nope, none.

– What did you dream about?

– Don’t remember, but something really nice, – she said, beaming with joy.

– You’re amazing.

Mari lay there, studying him. He was unshaven, his stubble prickling her hand as she touched him. He smiled, brushing the tip of his nose against her small one, creating a pleasant tickle.

– You won’t leave me, will you? – she asked innocently.

– Never!

– Never ever?

– Never ever! – he replied, pulling her close. – Let’s sleep a bit more.

Mari grinned widely and hugged him back.

A month and a half passed. Some of Igor’s habits started to grate on Mari, especially his tendency to store vegetable oil in the fridge instead of the cupboard. This small thing irritated her so much that during lunch, she snapped:

– Can you stop putting the oil in the fridge?!

– I know, I know, it goes in the cupboard! – he shot back, annoyed.

Mari stayed silent. After eating, Igor went to the cupboard, intending to move the oil. Opening the door, he remembered a question he wanted to ask:

– Wanna hit the pool hall tonight?

– Nah, not feeling it, – she replied.

– Too bad, it’s cheaper tonight, – he said, not noticing that he’d opened the fridge door and instinctively placed the oil back in its usual spot.

– Igor! Are you messing with me?! How many times do I have to tell you the oil goes in the cupboard, not the fridge!

Igor clenched his fist and banged it on the table.

– I don’t give a damn! What’s it matter where it goes?! Geez, you’re driving me nuts! You’re not the boss of this place to tell me what to do with my oil!

Mari was at a loss for words. Hurt, she stood, walked to the bathroom, and locked the door. Igor immediately felt a pang of guilt.

– Sorry, Mari! I’m an idiot, I can’t keep track of this stuff. Let’s go play pool, have some fun! Why fight over some dumb oil? I love you so much, and you’re such a great homemaker, you hear me? Mari, come on out! Let’s hug and forget this!

Mari didn’t come out. Behind the door, Igor heard her crying.

– Sweetheart, don’t cry, – he soothed. – I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t get why I act like this. You’re wonderful! Come out, I put the oil in the cupboard. It’s where it belongs.

She opened the door and stepped out, her tear-streaked eyes making her look vulnerable and scared. Igor lowered his gaze to the floor.

– From now on, you’re in charge of the kitchen. I’ll keep quiet because I don’t want to upset you.

– Swear you won’t yell at me again, – she said seriously.

– I won’t. I promise!

– Igor, we’ve only been together a little over a month. I haven’t trusted anyone like this in four years. And now you’re yelling at me. Maybe I’m a complete fool, but I really want to trust you because I love you. Please don’t hurt me.

Igor held her, thinking, “Something’s off. Where’s this heading?”

– We need to unwind, relax. Let’s go to the pool hall and have a good time. You’ll love it, I promise!

– I’m not going.

– You sure you don’t want to come?

– No, and I won’t be mad if you go alone.

– Really? Alright, I’ll shoot some pool and be back.

– Go.

And Igor left.

Mari washed dishes, mulling over her relationship with Igor. She had an odd feeling, like the one she’d had when she got pregnant by a junkie years ago. “But I was nauseous back then,” she thought, just as nausea hit her. She vomited into the sink, right onto the clean dishes. “Ugh, this is ridiculous,” she muttered, annoyed. Rewashing the dishes, she turned off the tap and went to the bedroom to grab a pregnancy test from her purse.

“I was right,” Mari confirmed. “There’s a piece of Igor growing inside me. How do I tell him when he doesn’t even believe in love? You know,” she said to the life within her, “I don’t care what your dad says. This time, I’m keeping you. I love your dad, and we need to find out if he loves us.”

At the bar, Igor played pool and sipped cold, frothy beer—exactly what he needed. His opponent was terrible and barely standing, so Igor didn’t have to try hard to win. The game wasn’t fun, and he missed Ben’s company.

A girl at the bar watched his game. After a while, she made her move, approaching him.

– Hey, – she said.

– Hey, – Igor replied.

– Don’t you think that guy’s too drunk to finish the game?

– I’m not… I’m not… I got this… – the man slurred, hugging the cue.

– Nah, he’s gonna wipe the floor with me, – Igor joked.

– I’m gonna… – the man mumbled before passing out.

– Okay, you’re right. He’s done, – Igor admitted. – Boris! – he called to the bouncer. – Know anyone who can pick this guy up? Weather’s rough, and the bridges’ll be up soon.

– Good guy, huh? – Igor said to the girl. – Could tear anyone apart, but he’s got a heart like a kid.

– Yeah, I noticed. I wanna play you!

– Me? – Igor smirked. – Alright, I’ll go easy on you!

– Your call, – she said, grabbing a cue.

Igor didn’t go easy and tried to win, but the balls kept stopping short of the pockets. Losing, he sulked.

– Life’s full of wins and losses. Today I’m down, but not out, – he said proudly.

– Oh, come on, I’m a candidate master in snooker. No excuses.

– Didn’t know that…

– Bet there’s a lot you don’t know about me. Want another beer?

At “beer,” he almost said “sure,” but thought of Mari and changed his mind.

– Nah, thanks. I’m heading home.

She stepped close, grabbing his waist.

– Why rush? – she asked, her low neckline drawing his eyes. She pressed against him, gazing invitingly, leaning in for a kiss. Reflexively, he leaned toward her but pulled back, realizing it was wrong.

– Look… Someone special came into my life recently. I don’t want to hurt her. I appreciate the attention, but you don’t mean anything to me, and I don’t mess with people I don’t care about.

– Mutual, – she sneered, swiftly kneeing him in the groin before heading for the exit.

“Well, there you go,” Igor thought. “Got what you asked for? Hope everything stays attached till I get home.”

Mari saw it all. She’d entered the bar just as the girl embraced Igor. In the past, she’d have started a fight, but now her heart was breaking. Unnoticed, she quietly left.

Back at Igor’s, Mari gathered her essentials and went to her parents’ place, a Khrushchev-era five-story walk-up with no elevator. Wiping tears and hiding her pain, she climbed to the top floor. Stopping at the door, she checked her reflection in a compact mirror: red eyes, smudged mascara, slightly puffy face. Quickly fixing herself up, she rang the bell. Her mother opened the door and instantly knew something was wrong.

– Mom!

– What’s wrong? Want some tea? I’ve got your favorite hibiscus. Want some?

– Sure, – Mari said, watching her mother bustle about, setting out cups. Once everything was on the table, she spoke:

– Mom, I’m pregnant. I’m keeping the baby, and I’ve made up my mind.

– Sweetie! What are you saying? What’s gotten into you? I’m sure Aunt Zoya can help, like last time. I’ll talk to her, she’ll listen.

– Mom! It’s final, and I’m not discussing it! If you won’t help, I’ll manage alone. But there’s no way I’m getting an abortion.

– Who’s the father? Will he support you?

– I don’t know, Mom, I don’t know, – Mari said through tears.

– Oh, heavens, – her mother exclaimed, pulling her daughter close. – What’s happening?

– He doesn’t know, Mom! I haven’t told him, and it’s better he doesn’t know!

– Who is he? Another one of those types?

Mari sobbed harder. Her mother held her like a little girl, stroking and rocking her, listening to her daughter’s troubles while thinking, “Thank goodness her father can’t hear this.”

Meanwhile, Mari’s father imagined himself a hero, slaying monsters alongside his elf-mage friend Zorius in the vast, perilous world of World of Warcraft. Once a big shot heading a security department at the FSB, he’d had access to state secrets he couldn’t bear. Now a retired lieutenant colonel, he’d lost his future and decided the virtual world, for all its cruelty, couldn’t compare to the tragedy of harsh reality.

* The letter was already in the mailbox.

Chapter 7. Come In, I’ll Put the Kettle On

“There were two women, the daughters of one mother. They played the whore…”
Ezekiel 23:2–3

– Mari! Sweetheart, I’m home! – Igor called, opening the door. – Mari! You here? I’m not alone—I’ve got flowers…

Her phone didn’t answer.

“Weird,” he thought. “Her toothbrush is gone too. What the heck? She just left! Over the oil? No way it’s about that! This is nonsense.”

The next day, Mari didn’t show up. Igor tried to find her, but his efforts were futile: she wasn’t on good terms with her old roommate, and he didn’t know her parents or friends. The only thing she left behind was her stash of weed. Feeling lousy, Igor burned through the rest of it to cope.

In the midst of this gloom, Anton showed up unexpectedly.

– Hey! You alone? – he asked.

– Yeah, come in. I’ll put the kettle on.

Anton stepped inside. The apartment was a mess, reeking of marijuana. Igor started brewing tea.

– I had a dream you got married, so I figured I’d check on you, see if everything’s okay. By the way, where’s your girl?

– She’s not here. Hasn’t been for a while.

– I was about to congratulate and bless you guys! Don’t worry, she’ll come back! Wanna talk about it?

– I don’t even know. It all happened so suddenly. Everything was fine, and then out of nowhere, constant complaints, nitpicking. Oil in the wrong place, mixing up towels. Total nonsense…

– Maybe you’re missing something? Women pay attention to details—the more little things you get right, the more they feel loved.

– Yeah, they’re sensitive, but she wouldn’t just up and leave because I put the oil in the wrong spot, would she?!

Igor poured tea for himself and his brother.

– Probably not over oil, – Anton chuckled.

– Oh, hilarious! – Igor grumbled.

– I don’t mean anything by it. I think she loves you a lot and is scared of hurting someone in this relationship.

– Come on, that’s not serious. Hurt who? Herself? Me? And who just walks out like that, no explanation?!

– You know who. Someone who loves deeply and fears causing pain.

– Oh, come on! How could I have hurt her? – Igor clutched his head. – Stupid oil. If I’d known it’d come to this, I’d have always put it on the shelf.

– Little brother, – Anton looked him in the eyes. – Forget the oil. Answer this: Do you love her?

Igor tensed, then paused to think. He got up, grabbed the bag of weed.

– Mind if I…?

– It’s written: ‘All things are lawful for me, but not all things are helpful.’

– So, it’s fine, – Igor said, taking a drag.

Anton quietly sipped his tea.

– You prefer black or green tea? – Anton asked abruptly.

– Black, – Igor exhaled. – It’s got a kick!

– I like green. It’s softer, almost sweet without sugar. Add some mint, and it’s perfect.

– No mint here, – Igor said, sitting back down.

Anton smiled.

– So, thought about my question? – Igor nodded. – And…?

– I love her… Damn, I really do… I mean, I actually love her! Can you believe I never thought about it before? She told me, and I was scared! I gotta call her!

– Hold up, Igor! – Anton grabbed his hands. – You’re high!

– You’re right, – he said after a brief pause. – You know what drives me nuts about you? You’re always right, even though you’re a pastor! I always hated those crooks. Then you became one, – Igor looked into his eyes. – Maybe it’s the weed talking, but go on, pray for me like you do. I really don’t know where this is going or where she went.

Some time later, Igor found a letter in the mailbox.

Greetings, Igor Alekseevich!
The organizers of “Babylon Reborn” are pleased to inform you that your response, “I’d say no, but the temptation’s too strong,” was the most unique among all entries. Our leadership has decided that someone like you is worthy of becoming the first citizen of Babylon.
The launch of the “Babylon Reborn” program will be a grand event, and we ask you to prepare answers to the following questions in advance:
– How did you find out you were the winner?
– What intrigued you about our offer?
– Why do you want to say no but can’t?
Your speech is allotted 10 minutes, and an experienced host will assist you.
Congratulations! You are now a millionaire and the first citizen of Babylon!
P.S. You may invite loved ones to the ceremony. Tickets are enclosed.

The letter seemed sketchy—too many scams out there! He called the number listed and was shocked to learn it was legit. Then he called his brother to share the news.

– Anton, you there?! Great news—I’m a millionaire!

– What?!

– Can you believe it? I won that “Babylon Reborn” contest!

– I didn’t even know you entered.

– Yeah, Mari and I did it together, just for laughs. Never thought there’d actually be a winner.

– Congrats! I’ve got good news too—about Mari.

– You saw her?

– No, but I think she lives in the same building as one of our church members. She said God’s working in her neighbor’s daughter. That girl used to steal money from her parents for drugs, wore scandalous red outfits, had devilish eyes. Always in red. Now she doesn’t wear red, gets along with her parents, even says hi. Sound like your Mari?

– Spot on! Give me her address.

Anton gave Igor the address.

– Thanks, bro. We’ll talk later. I owe you… uh, you don’t drink… a chocolate bar?

– No need!

Igor hung up and rummaged for the paper with her number.

Mari and her mother were having tea.

– Maybe it’s not so bad being alone? – her mother said.

– Mom, what are you talking about?! – Mari protested. – What about Dad?

– What about him? I thought when he retired, we’d buy some land, build a little house, grow a garden, plant flowers. Now it’s like he’s not even here… Staring at that screen, you can’t tell if he’s home or not, – she teared up, but the phone rang.

– I’ll get it, Mom! – Mari said, but saw Igor’s number and changed her mind.

– Who is it? – her mother asked. – Him? You gave him our number?

Mari shook her head.

– Why didn’t you pick up?

– Mom!

– What, Mom?! I can’t imagine how I’d have managed alone! Sure, your dad was gone a lot. We fought plenty, but he always said it was for us, for our protection. Look what that job did to him, – she glanced at her husband, glued to the computer. – Mari, you don’t know what it’s like to be alone!

– Mom!

Mari hugged her mother, who cried on her shoulder.

Mari went to the store for groceries. She bought what she needed and was heading home in good spirits. Suddenly, Igor appeared in front of her.

– Hey!

– What do you want? – she snapped.

– I want to apologize.

– I don’t make the same mistake twice.

– What mistake? What are you talking about? The oil?!

– Forget the oil! I’m pregnant. Any other questions? – Igor froze. – Nothing to say? Then let me pass.

Mari walked on. Igor grabbed her shoulder.

– Wait… That’s great!

– Get off! I’ll raise this kid alone! I don’t need your help. And don’t even think about an abortion! Let me go!

– I will, but hear me out!

– Make it quick, I’m busy!

– Mari, I won the “Babylon Reborn” show, and I’ve got an invite. I want you to come—it’ll be interesting for you. And… I love you. I’m sorry for everything. Just give me one chance! Please! – he said, holding her hand tightly.

– Show me the invite.

Igor pulled out the letter. Mari opened it and read carefully.

– I’ll think about it.

– Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?

She turned away and walked home without answering.

– I’ll be a great dad! – he shouted after her.

The envelope was dated July 22.

Chapter 8. I Hope I Invited Her

“The waters that you saw, where the prostitute is seated, are peoples and multitudes and nations and languages.”
Revelation 17:15

The opening of the “Babylon Reborn” festival was a highly anticipated event in St. Petersburg. Not only local stars but international celebrities jetted in for a few hours just for the ceremony. The venue was packed, impossible to squeeze through the crowd. Bon Jovi kicked off the event.

Backstage, Igor was lost in thought. The hustle and bustle around him didn’t faze him. Pretty makeup artists flirted and fussed, the host darted about, but Igor could only think of Mari, fearing she wouldn’t show. He longed for her presence, desperate to see her and apologize again.

– Something wrong, buddy? – a hulking host with a melodious voice broke into his thoughts. – Why the long face? You’re the winner! Come on, smile! – He flashed a toothy grin. Igor gave a crooked smirk. – Oh, what’s with you?! Come on, pal, don’t be shy, show us those pearly whites! – Igor twisted his face even more. The host threw up his hands. – This guy’s impossible! Girls, water! Quick, quick! – he clapped, urging the makeup artists to fetch water. Igor marveled at the absurdity around him. To make sense of it, he beckoned one of the girls with a finger. She scurried over.

– Tell me, is he always this nuts, or is he just acting? – he whispered in her ear.

– Always!

– He seems so serious on TV.

– He graduated from Shchuka and can slip into any role.

– Got it. Too bad he couldn’t find a better one for himself! – Igor chuckled.

The girl giggled too.

The host turned around.

– Oh, Lena! You’re such a sweetheart, an absolute doll! Thank goodness you cheered him up!

Igor and Lena laughed even louder.

– Alright, enough! Five minutes to airtime. Prep your speech, or you’ll get nervous!

– No need to worry. I’m ready. Not sure about you! – Igor shot back.

The host laughed.

– I’ve always got everything under control!

– We’ll see about that! – Igor added.

The host stopped laughing, coughed, and downed a glass of water.

– Get ready, you’re on in a minute. I’ll call you.

The hall was overflowing. The host took the stage.

– Did you enjoy the concert?

The crowd erupted in applause.

– Yes, amazing!

– Awesome, bravo!

– Bravissimo…

– But who’s our lucky winner? Who gets the prize? Who’ll be the first citizen of Babylon? We’re about to find out. Patience, ladies and gentlemen, – the host opened an envelope. – Our winner is Igor Solovyov! Let’s give him a warm welcome!

Igor walked onto the stage to thunderous applause and approached the host.

– Igor, please share your stunning answer!

– “I’d say no, but the temptation’s too strong.”

– How curious! Your answer makes it seem like you knew you’d win. Do you know your future, or was it just chance? How’d you pull it off?

– Pull what off?

– Winning out of millions with that answer!

– Well, first, I had no idea I’d win. Second, the answer wasn’t meant for you.

– What do you mean?

– My girlfriend and I stumbled onto the “Babylon Reborn” website one day, and it became a way for us to talk. She wrote, “I want to be the queen of seven mountains,” and I replied, “I’d say no, but the temptation’s too strong.”

– What does “queen of seven mountains” mean?

– That’s a long story! – Igor grinned, leaned in, and whispered something to the host, leaving the audience puzzled.

– Yesss! – the host drawled, laughing. – I wouldn’t say no to that either!

The crowd roared with laughter.

– So, you’ve earned what you couldn’t refuse! Just sign here, and you’ll be the first citizen of Babylon! Ready?

Igor smirked and continued:

– Any other options?

The host was momentarily speechless, and whispers rippled through the crowd.

– What other options? You’re the winner… – the host stammered.

– See, – Igor interrupted, – I’m going to have to pass. – The host nearly keeled over, organizers wavered, sponsors shifted in their seats, and a hush fell over the crowd. Igor scanned the silent audience and went on: – So I can give the prize to someone whose fate matters to me.

– And who’s that? – the host asked softly.

– The queen of seven mountains, Marina Smirnova!

– Is she here?

– I hope so. I invited her!

– Marina Smirnova, if you’re in the audience, please come up!

Marina sat frozen, too scared to move. She couldn’t bring herself to stand and face the crowd.

– Marina Smirnova! Please join us on stage! – the host repeated. The audience grew restless.

Marina lifted her head and locked eyes with Igor on stage.

– Come on, don’t waste time!

– Who’s out there?

– Stop stalling!

– Come out, no one’s gonna hurt you!

– Marina, don’t chicken out! – shouts came from the crowd.

– Marina Smirnova! – the host chanted, then spotted a woman in a red dress in the center of the hall.

Thunderous applause erupted, organizers exhaled, sponsors sat back, and the host wiped sweat from his brow. Marina stood and walked toward the stage, toward Igor. He watched her with a joyful smile.

– Finally! – someone called from the back.

Igor looked at Mari. She smiled shyly back at him.

– So, – the host continued, – do you agree to accept this valuable gift from Igor, sign this paper, and fulfill your dream? – He sounded like he was officiating a wedding.

– I do! – she said, signing the paper.

– Wonderful, wonderful! Are you two married, by any chance? – the host joked. – At least give us a hug for the occasion—it’s a once-in-a-lifetime moment!

Elated, Mari took Igor’s arm, and they slipped backstage.

– We’ve finally found our winner! Love triumphs! And now, please welcome…

Mari’s mother watched the show with tears and awe. Her father remained glued to his virtual world.

– You won’t even look at your own daughter! – she grumbled. – It’s on TV!

– Who cares what’s on!

– That’s your daughter, our family!

Backstage, Mari and Igor felt relief. The crowd’s stares had made them nervous for each other. They glanced at the staff and organizers, who were wiping sweat from their brows. The panting host rushed after them.

– Incredible! A show within a show, an off-script spectacle! You have no idea what’s coming! Your love will bring Babylon millions of fans. Bravo! – he exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

Journalists and photographers waited outside. Mari’s smile never faded, while Igor answered questions slowly.

– How long have you been together?

– Not long, – Igor replied.

– You realize you’re a sensation? Everyone’s talking about you!

– I get it, but I wasn’t aiming for that.

– Marina, aren’t you scared of change?

Mari stayed silent, smiled, and pressed close to Igor.

– We gotta go, – he said for her. – I know you’ve got questions, but we’re not answering them all. I’m done commenting.

– Igor, you… Marina, you… – questions trailed after them, but the couple walked to their car, shut the door, and drove off.

A light drizzle fell, raindrops splattering the windshield. It made Mari think of their fight, while Igor mentally reviewed the week’s tasks. They’d been told Thursday was for a cardiogram, Monday for another appearance, and Friday for Babylon’s rebirth.

– You scared of the procedure? – Igor asked.

– What procedure? It’s just a chip implant.

– It’s not just a chip. They hook it to your nerves, like in those Japanese cartoons, remember?

– Oh, come on! Cartoons! – she laughed, grabbing the wheel and swerving sharply. The car veered off the road, nearly hitting a pole and startling some homeless guys digging through a dumpster. Igor barely stopped the car.

– Are you insane?!

– Insane! – she shot back.

– We could’ve died! – he yelled. – Do you even know what you’re doing?!

– Not a clue… – she whispered, leaning in close to her beloved.

– You’re… – he started, but quieted as Mari kissed him.

One of the homeless guys watched, drooling, nudging his buddy.

– Look at ‘em, I’d… – he started fantasizing.

– I get it, but I don’t wanna watch!

– Just look… You won’t regret it.

– Get off me! Let’s go before we’re soaked! Grab the food!

– She’s taking off her bra!

– What bra?! – the second guy snapped, glancing at Mari’s chest and gaping.

Mari opened her eyes, saw the two men staring, and shrieked, covering her chest with cold hands.

– Aah!

Igor turned, spotted the men, flashed a crooked grin, and floored the gas. The tires screeched as the car sped off.

– Let’s go, – one homeless guy said to the other, watching them leave. – You’ll see plenty later! You kept saying ‘go, go,’ but you couldn’t look away either!

* Tomorrow would be a tough day for the heroes.

Chapter 9. What Kind of Question Is That!

“The beast that you saw was, and is not, and is about to rise from the bottomless pit and go to destruction.”
Revelation 17:8

Mari was woken by the phone ringing.

– Good morning, Marina! Are you ready for changes in your life?

– What changes?! Do you know what time it is?!

– Twelve-thirty. Sorry for waking you, but… it’s “New Babylon.” Be ready in an hour; our representative will pick you up.

– Oh, it’s you, – Mari said, finally catching on. – When will they get here?

– Two o’clock sharp!

– Fine, bye! – she replied, hanging up.

– Who was that? – Igor asked, stepping out of the shower.

– Those Babylon folks. They’re coming at two, – she grumbled.

– So what are you waiting for? Get ready!

– Yeah, yeah, in a minute…

– Mari! – he pressed. – We need to move!

– Mmm, – she muttered, clearly annoyed.

Igor got irritated.

– Do I have to push you all day? Go shower!

Mari didn’t like his tone. She grabbed a towel, stormed to the bathroom, and slammed the door.

An hour later, she was ready and noticed Igor had just put on a shirt and was tying his tie. She handed him his jacket.

– Still not dressed, and you were nagging me…

– Let’s not start. We’re running late.

Igor put a hand on her shoulder.

– You know, you have no idea how much I missed you. I thought about you all the time. Mari, forgive me for everything! – He lowered his eyes. – Yeah, I don’t always get you. Sometimes it’s like we’re in different worlds, even though we share a bed. – He stepped closer, resting a hand on her waist. – You mean so much to me. When you were gone, I kept thinking about us, and it scared me to imagine there was no “us” anymore. – He met her gaze.

Tears welled in Mari’s eyes. She rested her head on his chest.

– I missed “us” too, – she said, rubbing his back.

The doorbell rang. Igor kissed her forehead and handed her a handkerchief.

– Ready?

– Ready! – Mari nodded, wiping her eyes and handing back the mascara-streaked cloth.

Opening the door, they saw a tall man standing there.

– Hello, Igor, Marina! I’m Mikhail, here to take you to the “Babylon Reborn” headquarters. Ready?

– Ready, – Mari said firmly.

The man ushered them into a sleek black limousine parked by the entrance and got behind the wheel.

The Babylon office was in a four-story residential building in central St. Petersburg, on the Griboedov Canal. The entrance was through a courtyard, guarded by security.

– Weird place, – Igor remarked, stepping out of the car and looking around.

– What, expecting a skyscraper? – a guard laughed. – I thought the same when I started here.

Mari forced a crooked smile.

– Not funny, huh? Guess I’m no comedian. Go on in!

Mari walked ahead, Igor following.

– Sorry, can you wait outside while Marina undergoes her exam? – the guard stopped him.

– No! – Mari snapped.

A woman’s voice came from behind.

– It’ll take about four hours, – said a receptionist. – Full checkup, tests, CT scan, the works. You really want to watch?

Igor looked at Mari.

– What do you think?

– You can wait downstairs and watch a presentation for more details, – the receptionist suggested.

– Fine, – Mari relented. – I’ll handle the doctors myself.

She kissed Igor’s cheek and headed upstairs to the second floor. Igor stayed in the waiting room, where a film about Babylon played.

Mari sat in a cozy leather chair at a wide oak desk. Across from her was a well-built man in his forties, wearing a white coat and cap, with curly blond hair peeking out. “Good-looking,” she noted to herself.

– How old are you?

– Twenty-four.

– Do you have children?

– Not yet, but I’m pregnant.

– I see. Have you had an abortion before?

– Once…

– We know you’ve used drugs.

– Yeah, that happened.

– And you underwent treatment for addiction.

– If you know, why ask? It’s not exactly a fond memory!

– What are your religious beliefs?

– What? What kind of question is that?

– A necessary one. We’re aware of freedom of religion laws and your right not to disclose your beliefs. But religious people have rights they often exercise. I must warn you that the chip’s implant site aligns with a location described in the Bible. If that conflicts with your beliefs, let us know now, before it’s too late.

– Enough already, I got it. I don’t believe in any God, – she said, then paused to think.

– Great, – the doctor said, pressing a button on the printer, which spit out two sheets with Mari’s responses.

– Sign here, and we’ll head to the CT scan.

Mari was mildly surprised by the device that recorded her answers and printed them out. She reviewed the document and signed in two places.

After the scan, the doctors shared plenty of insights. Mari wasn’t shocked by the amount of information but by how much had changed since her last CT scan in college. Back then, her results were decent; now, they were concerning.

– Mari, the scan shows a strong marijuana dependency, which is rare for this drug. Your past hepatitis also affects your health and your baby’s. We’re confident you’ll deliver a healthy child, but raising them…

– How I raise my kid is none of your business! How will the chip affect my baby?

– The chip will boost your body’s resistance to these factors and protect your child. Also, you’re having a girl.

– A girl! – Mari smiled.

– Yes, a girl.

– That’s reassuring, knowing it’ll help her development. Alright, I’m ready for the procedure, – Mari said.

– Timur Vladimirovich! – a woman in a white coat called. – Phone for you!

– Excuse me, I’ll be right back, – the doctor said, stepping out.

Mari had a moment to rethink her decision. She pictured a hand with huge numbers drawn on it, shrinking in size. She imagined a home with Igor, their kids. She saw herself growing old with him, happy and content. Something inside filled her with peace, making her smile broadly, carefree.

– Ready? – the doctor asked, returning.

Mari nodded.

– Let’s watch a documentary about our program before the procedure, – he said, pressing a button on the remote.

“The program’s name comes from a city that united all of Earth’s people. In that city, everyone spoke one language and was one nation. The same principle will apply in today’s Babylon, erasing borders and uniting people…” The film lasted about thirty minutes. Mari nearly dozed off, nodding slightly. “…The world of one dominating another will dissolve, and utopia will become reality.”

– Like the film?

– Great, – Mari said, barely understanding it and trying not to show it. – Do you really think this is possible? Honestly!

– Nothing’s impossible. Thousands of scientists worldwide worked on this system. Their work will bring you happiness. Later, you can integrate a phone and internet into the chip. For now, shop without queues, live without needing insurance, tax forms, bank accounts, or even a passport! A deal can be sealed with a handshake! Your account balance—one million euros, or sixty million rubles—will display on your wrist. Isn’t that enough? Can you imagine how your life will change!

At “million euros,” Mari’s eyes lit up. She closed them and nodded. Timur Vladimirovich pressed a button. Straps emerged from the chair, securing Mari’s head, arms, and legs. The doctors began the procedure.

Three hours later, Igor grew anxious. Footsteps came from upstairs. It was the doctor.

– Igor, you can come up, – he said.

– How is she?

– Everything went well. She’s sleeping.

– You said it’d take three hours. Was that just prep?

– Yes, prep. The procedure itself takes twenty minutes, and she’s resting now. You can wait on the couch.

– Alright.

Mari slept deeply. Igor took her hand, searching for her pulse where the chip would be. His thumb felt something small and hard under her soft skin. He kissed her palm and held it tightly. Mari turned on her side, facing him, resting her head on his hand like a pillow. Igor laid his head beside hers, kissed her, and fell asleep.

Later, the doctor woke him.

– Igor, sorry to wake you, but Marina needs at least twenty hours to fully recover and adjust. We’ll do a test tomorrow, and you can talk privately then.

– You said I could wait here!

– You can, but why?

– Because I want to! – he insisted.

Igor couldn’t sleep now. He paced, wondering what would happen next. He’d get close to Mari, then step back. By 6 a.m., exhausted, he fell asleep in a chair across from her bed.

* “The first one’s done!” – Lisandro Frankenberg said, reviewing the procedure’s recording.

Chapter 10. I’m Happy

“Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great! She has become a dwelling place for demons…”
Revelation 18:2

Waking up, Mari saw Igor sleeping across from her and smiled. She plucked a feather from the pillow and brushed it across his face. He wrinkled his nose, rubbed it comically, then sneezed and woke up. The first thing he saw was Mari’s smile and her mischievous laugh.

– Good morning!

– How’s your mood?

– Pretty good, I think, – she replied, glancing at the green-glowing digits on her wrist.

– Let’s see it.

Mari obediently extended her right hand.

– See anything?

– Nothing I don’t like! – he said with a smile.

– The numbers? – she asked.

– What numbers?

– These numbers! – Mari pointed to the glowing digits under her skin. – Six and seven zeros! See them?

– No, what numbers?!

– Right here! You don’t see them? – She paused, as if realizing something simple. – Oh, only I can see them!

– Where are these numbers? – Igor asked again.

– Right here! – She showed her wrist.

– If I didn’t know what that thing was, I’d never believe it. I can feel something hard, – he said, touching her pulse, – but numbers?

– You’re covering it!

– Now? – he asked, cupping her wrist with both hands.

– Now I can’t see it at all.

The doctor entered the room.

– How’s the result?

– It’s right there. Is it in rubles? – Mari asked.

– Yes, – the doctor replied. – It shows the amount in the currency of the country you’re in.

– Awesome! – Mari said excitedly. – Igor! We’ve got tons of money! Look! – She pointed again at the number invisible to him.

– Igor, – the doctor addressed him, – Marina will now undergo a final checkup, and we’ll test everything in practice for the first time.

– How long will it take?

– No more than an hour. You can wait here.

Igor looked into Mari’s shining eyes and felt a sudden pang of sadness.

– I’ll be outside, – he said.

Igor went downstairs. A guard stood on the porch. They stood in silence for a couple of minutes.

– Got a cigarette?

The guard pulled a pack of Marlboros from his pocket, with only two left.

– I’ll join you, – he said, taking the last one and tossing the pack.

Igor smoked quietly. Mari came down after forty minutes, beaming, and took his arm. The doctor followed.

– Marina Ivanovna, – the doctor said, – very few locations are equipped with the system yet, so you can shop at Liteyny, Tekhnologichesky, Park Pobedy, and Vyborgsky. Don’t worry, your contract includes equipping a nearby store. Anyway, this money will last you a lifetime! You can order everything online.

– I’ll manage, – she said with a smile, stroking her beloved’s arm.

They got into the limousine.

– Why so glum? – she asked. Igor stared out the window, lost in thought, as if wrestling with complex problems.

– I’m not glum, – he said, snapping out of it. – Everything’s great!

Mari pinched him. He smiled and kissed her. The car stopped, and they headed to the mall.

– Marina Ivanovna, we’ve closed the store just for you and sent the staff on break, leaving only a few consultants so you can fully enjoy shopping. I hope you find everything you want. The store is yours today. Have fun! – the doctor said, leaving Igor and Mari in the vast building.

– Where to now? – Igor asked.

– Anywhere! Grab a cart!

Mari started spending her millions, though they didn’t vanish too quickly. She grabbed everything in sight, filling the cart with clothes and trinkets they’d never considered before. She didn’t think about necessities, buying random stuff instead. Igor was especially surprised by an expensive vintage phone. Watching Mari’s eyes, you could see her appetite growing and how childlike an adult could remain at heart. Finally, she got tired, and they headed to a café with just one waiter.

– Leave the cart; no one’s taking it.

– You never know, – Igor said, pushing the cart toward the escalator.

– What are you doing?! – Mari exclaimed.

– No one’s taking it! – he said with a grin.

– I said leave it, not shove it! – she said, sitting at a table, visibly annoyed.

– Hello! – the waiter greeted. – What’ll you order?

Mari opened the menu on the table, hiding her face from Igor. He felt awkward but got the hint.

– Mari, you know I’m no good with taste. I’d rather eat shawarma. Fine, – he sighed and whispered something to the waiter.

– Now I’ll see how men cry, – she smiled.

– Come on, tell me how that thing works. Do you feel it?

– Not at all. Just see the numbers change.

– Huh. What about the café? They’ll bring a scanner back? – Igor continued.

Mari glanced at her wrist; 2,700 rubles had been deducted.

– Did you order eight portions of rice?

Igor didn’t catch her meaning at first and answered late.

– Wow, it’s already deducted! – he marveled. – What about tips?

Mari laughed.

– Poor waiters, they’ll go wild without tips! Or maybe they’ll figure out a way.

– How would that look?

– It won’t! They’ll just switch to the Japanese model. Waiters there don’t take tips; it’s in their salary.

– Hm, you never said you went to Japan.

– I didn’t. A friend told me.

– Got it, – Igor scratched his head. – Look, here’s our food!

The waiter brought sushi Igor had ordered. Mari’s face lit up with a pleased smile.

– Nice job! – she said, finishing the meal.

Igor smiled.

– I’ve got a gift for you!

– What gift?

– Come upstairs, I’ll show you!

They approached the escalator.

– Don’t peek!

– Okay, what about the cart?

– Who needs it? No one’s taking it.

– True! – she said, stepping onto the escalator ahead of Igor. She kissed him, stopping only when they reached the top. Igor paused; Mari gazed at him lovingly. He pulled out a blindfold and tied it over her eyes.

– So you don’t peek, – he whispered. – Now turn around.

He swept her up, stepping off the escalator. Mari squealed in surprise. He led her by the hand, weaving through aisles.

– We’re here! – he said finally.

– Can I take it off?

– Go ahead.

Removing the blindfold, Mari saw engagement rings behind the jewelry counter. She covered her mouth, her smile shining through her hands.

– Will you?

– Yes! I will! – she exclaimed, hugging him tightly and kissing him.

The clerk watched with a smile.

– Which one do you want? – Mari asked.

– I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to choose?

– Everything’s backward with us. Usually, the girl waits, and the guy secretly buys the ring. But I’m paying, so I want you to pick!

– Let’s at least pick the material: gold or platinum?

– That one with the gem.

– You said I’m choosing!

– Right, uh… How about… Okay, it’s settled. You get the one with the green gem, I’ll take the red. Deal?

– Gift wrap? – the clerk asked habitually.

– No, just hand them over, – Igor said.

Still holding Mari in his arms, they exchanged rings and kissed tenderly.

– Igor, – Mari whispered softly.

– What, my love?

– Take me to the furniture section, – she said, her face glowing with a smile. – I saw this bed…

...

– We messed up the bed, but no money was deducted, – Mari said, surprised.

– Guess their system’s not perfect!

– Definitely not.

They fell silent, gazing into each other’s eyes.

– Remember our talk about dreams?

– Yeah, you said you had nothing to dream about.

– I wasn’t lying! I really don’t know what to dream of.

– I don’t either. Everything came true in one day. Even the silliest, childish stuff. Now… I have to figure out what to dream about next!

– Me too, – Igor encouraged her.

Mari smiled and pressed herself close to him.

– It’s true, isn’t it? You need me like no one else, like a part of your body, and you’d do anything for me?

– True! – he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and rolling onto his back.

– And you’ll love me even in life’s toughest moments?

– Silly, of course I will! – Igor said tenderly.

– And I will too! – Mari said, resting against his chest.

– Remember the movie theater upstairs?

– Yeah, wanna go?

– Why not?

– Let’s stay here a bit longer, or else…

– Or else what?

– Oh, forget it! – she grumbled playfully.

On their way to the theater, they saw a distinguished man in an expensive black suit at the entrance. He had faint wrinkles on his face.

– Hello! – he greeted the couple, shaking their hands. – I’m Lisandro Frankenberg, the father and mother of the chip, and head of the RNA Modification Committee in Russia. That thing in your hand is entirely my creation.

– Nice to meet you, – Igor said, releasing his hand.

Lisandro continued.

– Before the movie, you have a unique chance to ask me any questions.

– Alright, – Mari began. – When will more stores be equipped for this?

– Soon. In six months, they’ll pop up like mushrooms. Once the technology exists, people can’t help but adopt it. You, Marina, are the start of a journey planned for two to three years. In that time, we aim to connect the entire globe to one chip. At first, it’ll cost a fortune. After today, millionaires will flock to us, then the middle class. We’ll raise enough to fund this transformation. The world will move to a more advanced economic level, open to digital carriers.

– Nice plan! A million for me, and the rest—a fifth of global profits—for you. Typical scam. So predictable!

– You don’t understand. It’s not about money! Without progress, society stagnates. Yes, about a billion people will lose jobs, but we’ll offset that with the profits and create new opportunities. It might remind you of communism, crushed by capitalism, but this is neither. The 21st century is the century of electronics, the century of Tesla.

– More nonsense, – Igor replied.

– Not at all. You know what a nanobot is?

– Sure, a worm that upgrades the body.

– Close enough. That thing in Marina’s hand is a nanobot, capable of incredible things with matter—like changing eye color, breast size, hair color. Marina, – he turned to her, – soon you’ll browse the internet without a computer, anytime you want. This can unite the world in one flawless global network. You’re flawless now, understand?

– Sure, – Mari laughed. – I guess! But I don’t care if I’m flawless or not. He knows, – she pointed at Igor, – I’m no perfection. Being some kind of cyborg doesn’t thrill me and never has. Ugh, forget it! – She waved him off. – Let’s go watch the movie! – They pushed through the theater doors.

Igor was stunned by his fiancée’s boldness, telling a scientist off like that—it was like spitting in his face. Though Igor thought their work was pointless, he wouldn’t have been so blunt, even on LSD when he believed two arms and legs were overkill. For Mari, not needing a wallet was enough. She didn’t think about other implications, pushing them aside for later. They reached the theater quickly. The movie started, and Igor dozed off. Mari’s elbow woke him.

“…magnetic fields prevent criminals from disappearing or hiding. Currently, they only work on soft soils, as sensors aren’t sensitive to signals from rocks. Still, it’s enough to ensure city residents’ safety. All data is transmitted from the center to the periphery…”

The film’s content put Igor back to sleep.

– Boss! Should I let them in? – a subordinate asked Lisandro.

– Yes, go ahead, – he nodded.

The mall filled with reporters instantly. Police couldn’t hold back the crowd eager to see the lucky couple. The first and second floors were packed. Only accredited journalists reached the third. When Igor and Mari exited the theater, they were blinded by dozens of spotlights and hundreds of camera flashes. Reporters shoved microphones in their faces, and a massive video camera loomed above. Igor winced, rubbing his face, gripping Mari tightly. She stood with a wide grin, her heart racing. A reporter from Channel One descended on a crane-like rig.

– Marina, just one question, – he said.

– What? – she asked.

– How do you feel?

Mari took a deep breath, glanced at Igor’s face—scowling from the flashes, ready to tear every journalist apart—and said joyfully:

– I’m happy! – Her genuine smile captivated viewers instantly.

The crowd was stunned by the unconventional program, and Lisandro applauded. A concert began inside the building on the second floor, where equipment had been set up during the film.

The company’s goal was achieved—international news showcased the most unique concert program. “Babylon Reborn” broke all popularity records.

* And the people were ignited by the idea.

Interlude

The waiter hurried to the table.

– Two glasses of well-aged wine, – Alexander said, turning to Arkady. – You won’t say no, will you?

– You’re right, this is worth a toast.

The waiter brought a bottle of wine and two glasses.

As they drained the bottle, their friendly chat turned into a lively debate. Alexander shared his views on dealing with authority, while Arkady listened, nervously fidgeting with his glass.

– So, what’s He done to rub you the wrong way?

– He threw a stone at me! – Alexander replied calmly, lighting an expensive cigarette.

– Stones are everywhere these days. You planning to build a house with them?

Alexander exhaled a stream of thick white smoke and looked at Arkady with a haughty grin.

– Am I so foolish as to build a house at the bottom of a lake? – he said, scratching his forehead. – It’s no house! It’s a downright coffin.

Arkady rubbed his chin.

– So, you’re sinking.

– Sinking, brother, sinking, – he confirmed. – And not alone! Remember that question the Stoics posed to the Christians?

– “Can God create a stone so heavy He can’t lift it, then lift it?”

– Yes, that one! – Alexander nodded. – So, can He or not?

Arkady sighed heavily.

– Not always. Stones have a will of their own.

– So, God’s not all-powerful!

– If He weren’t, He wouldn’t have made them.

Alexander glanced at the people around them.

– Don’t they see they’re the stones? – he said with a tinge of sadness.

– Not all of them, – Arkady replied. – That guy in the corner, drinking beer and rolling his wedding ring on the table, he might get it. – He pointed to an unshaven man sitting alone in the bar’s corner.

– You know everything, don’t you, Arkady?

– Nah, I don’t know a thing. I just guess, – he said, taking a sip of wine.

– I think he’s a bit down. Mind if I go talk to him?

Arkady took another sip, glanced out the window, then at the bottle, and nodded approvingly.

Part 2. Harvest

Chapter 11. And I You…

“As she glorified herself and lived in luxury, so give her a like measure of torment and mourning.”
Revelation 18:7

Three months passed. Igor and Mari got married. They didn’t have a church ceremony, but Igor’s brother, Anton, attended briefly. He stayed for twenty minutes before leaving, unaccustomed to parties spiked with MDMA-laced juice.

The idea for such an unconventional wedding came from Mari—she loved the sense of universal love and care that psychedelics brought, though the feeling faded afterward. Pregnant, she couldn’t indulge in drugs, so she turned to alcohol. Dressed in a red gown, she held a champagne bottle in her right hand and clung to her husband with her left. Igor glanced at her with a crooked smile, unsure if he was happy or bewildered by the drugs filling their new home. The DJ, one of Mari’s exes, was particularly unsettling—so high he’d been repeating “Bitter, b-b-bitter!” for half an hour.

The party raged on. Igor worried Mari might take something illicit, so he stayed sober, keeping an eye on her. She reached for the spiked juice now and then but caught his gaze each time. She didn’t touch drugs all night, though she got drunk and passed out before reaching the bed. Looking at his wife, Igor sighed heavily, carried her to the heart-shaped bed, and laid her down. Sitting beside her, he caught the stench of alcohol on her breath.

She breathed heavily, face buried in the pillow. Finishing a cigarette, Igor turned her onto her left side in case she vomited, then lay with his back to her. Closing his eyes, he dreamed of a normal wedding and a missed wedding night. He even considered redoing the ceremony on a Hawaiian island, surrounded by palms and dancing locals. He imagined them offering a green wedding potion that instantly intoxicated, making his wife even more enchanting. The thought made him smile as he drifted to sleep.

While he slept soundly, Mari tossed fitfully, plagued by a strange, unsettling dream. She was posing for a magazine, photographers swapping out after a few shots, urging her to loosen up, be passionate, bare more. She felt like a toy. The freer she became, the clearer the photographer’s face—until she realized it was Igor. This time, his face didn’t inspire trust. “Don’t stop,” he said. “Keep going! They’re watching!” Mari looked around; dozens of people with cameras were snapping photos.

She jolted awake, trembling, drenched in cold sweat. Turning to Igor, she saw he’d hogged the blanket. “God, I feel awful!”—the alcohol still coursed through her. She staggered to the kitchen, chugged a glass of water, then another. Heading back to the bedroom, she caught her reflection in a mirror: dark bags under her eyes, smeared makeup, vomit in the corners of her mouth. Disgusted, she washed her face with cold water. The nightmare flooded back. “Just a dream,” she told herself, turning slowly. The house was a wreck, guests sprawled on the floor. Outside, the wedding table was filthy, lined with empty bottles, someone sleeping on it. In the living room, she found the bridesmaid in the arms of one of Igor’s friends. Their new home resembled a drug den. Once, she’d wanted a wedding fueled by ecstasy and weed, but now, seeing it, she was horrified. Mari tied her hair back, turned on the light, and on her first day as a wife, began cleaning.

Dawn broke, guests stirred, and Mari, some politely, others less so, asked them to leave.

By eleven, Igor woke and wandered to the kitchen. The guests were gone, and Mari was finishing the dishes.

– Wow, you’re something! – Igor marveled. – I thought we’d be cleaning for a month.

He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her earlobe.

– I love you! – he whispered.

– And I you… – she replied, turning to kiss him.

He grabbed an open milk carton from the fridge and took a sip.

– Guests gone already?

– Yeah, I asked them to leave, – she said seriously.

Igor nodded. Taking another sip, he recalled her behavior the previous night and decided to ask.

– Mari…

She turned.

– Do you remember how you acted?

Mari looked away.

– I don’t want to talk about it.

Igor stepped closer.

– But I do, – he pressed. – I’m worried about our child’s future. I want them born healthy, like any normal parent would.

Mari finished washing a mug, wiped her hands on a towel, and buried her face in Igor’s chest.

– Do you get me? – he asked.

She tried to slip past, but he held her tight.

– Don’t dodge this! Promise it won’t happen again. Hear me, Mari? Promise!

He felt her trembling.

– What’s wrong? – he asked, concerned.

She clung to him, sobbing into his chest. He held her gently, stroking her head as shivers ran through her.

– Sorry! I won’t bring it up again. You didn’t want this either.

Mari nodded, still crying. Igor kissed her forehead and kept soothing her.

Thus began the married life of Igor and Marina Solovyov.

Each day, they adjusted to their new, unfamiliar roles as husband and wife. Alongside sweet nothings, she started calling him “hubby,” and he called her “my sweet.”

Igor wandered the house, admiring his increasingly pregnant wife, when one day he caught a sweet, familiar smell from the bathroom. Trying the door, he found it locked.

“She’s smoking!” Igor realized.

– Mmm, honey, you almost done?

– Yeah, coming out! – she said, flushing the toilet.

– Damn, I can’t hold it! How long?

The door opened.

– I thought men were more patient! – she said with a smile.

Igor locked the bathroom door and searched for weed, checking every corner. Realizing Mari had flushed it, he figured she had a stash she smoked through a pipe. He flushed the toilet and stepped out. Mari was waiting.

– You don’t trust me at all? – she teased.

– What?

– Think I don’t know you were looking for weed?

“If I don’t find it and try a drug test, she’ll lose it. I’ve got to find it,” Igor thought.

– You don’t trust me! – Mari began, launching into a forty-minute tantrum.

Igor nodded silently, occasionally muttering, “Yeah, sorry, my fault.”

Two days later, when Mari went shopping, he tore the house apart and found her stash in the basement. Under the stairs were five boxes of marijuana, two with various powders and pills. Igor couldn’t believe his eyes!

Gathering his courage, he hauled the boxes outside and doused them with kerosene. He watched the cannabis smolder, ecstasy pills swell and burst with plastic, cocaine resist dissolving, and mescaline bottles explode intermittently. Sighing heavily, he thought how much fun he could’ve had with it all. Nostalgia for carefree days when he’d indulged hit him hard. Those memories felt like the most precious time in his life, and he longed to relive a few minutes. Before Mari, those were his most thrilling moments.

He sat by the fire, watching unborn wonders burn. Suddenly, it hit him: “What am I doing?! Destroying the most valuable thing in the world!” He reached to save some but burned his hands on the hot powder and yanked them back. They were scorched. He thought to lick them but couldn’t—he was shaking, like Mari after the wedding. Looking at his burned hands, hot tears rolled down his face.

– Why? Why? – Igor repeated, angrily demanding of someone. – Why?

Footsteps came from the house. Calming down, Igor stood, wiped his tears, and went to the kitchen, where Mari was unpacking groceries.

– Help me? – she asked, not looking at him.

Igor came up behind her, placing a hand on her waist.

– What’s up? – she said, turning and paling at his pale, haggard face. – Something wrong, Igor? – she asked seriously.

He hugged her tighter and whispered in her ear:

– I burned it all!

Mari’s eyes widened. She broke free and grabbed his shoulders.

– Burned what?

– Everything!!!

Mari glanced toward the basement, then back at Igor.

– Don’t even bother looking!

But she didn’t listen. As expected, the basement was empty, and rage overwhelmed her. She stormed upstairs, where Igor met her, looking at her reproachfully.

– I told you, I burned it all.

– Screw you! Do you know how much that was worth?

– Whatever it cost, – he interrupted, – our child’s worth more.

Shame washed over her. She was moved by his words, her eyes betraying it. They sparkled, but her heart filled with unease. Igor’s righteousness in this moment unsettled her.

– Yeah, you’re right, – she said, looking away.

“Of course I’m right!” Igor thought. “Those last words hit home! I’m a genius.” He didn’t notice his mistake. Mari was angry and blamed herself.

– Mari, I want a healthy child, and as long as I’m here, I won’t let you use anything! We’ll have to tough it out. If you keep going, you’ll kill them!

– Go to hell! – she screamed, furious.

– I’m not going anywhere, and you’ll have to deal with this with me!

– Get out! – she yelled, running upstairs to the bedroom. Igor knocked, but Mari didn’t answer.

– If you need me, I’m sober! – he said, leaving her alone.

He’d gone too far but was too angry at Mari to notice.

Mari wept.

In the city, the “Babylon Reborn” system was now installed in three thousand stores.

Chapter 12. I’m Coming, Stop Yelling!

“Come out of her, my people, lest you take part in her sins, lest you share in her plagues.”
Revelation 18:4

The recent incident strained the young couple’s relationship. They reconciled and apologized, but a lingering resentment remained. A grudge took root in Mari’s heart, keeping them from growing closer.

Igor tried various ways to mend things, but nothing worked. Intimacy faded, and their conversations hit dead ends, with Mari refusing to budge. She shut him out, blaming him and attacking his pride. Frustrated, Igor sought advice from his brother.

– Hey, good to see you, – Anton said, hugging him. – What brings you here?

– Just dropped by for a cup of tea, – Igor replied modestly.

– Come in, don’t be shy!

– Hi, Ksenia, – Igor greeted Anton’s wife, who was clattering pots in the kitchen.

– Oh, hi! Long time no see! How’s Mari doing? – she asked, pausing.

– Uh… well…

– Got it. I’ll make tea, – she said with a smile.

– Thanks, love, – Anton said, giving her a grateful hug. – You’re the best.

Ksenia beamed at his words. He pulled her closer.

– Oh, Anton! You’ve got company, and I’m washing dishes.

He smiled and joined Igor. To avoid waking their youngest daughter, they sat in the kitchen. Ksenia brought tea. As she started back on the dishes, a cry came from the bedroom.

– She’s up after all, – Ksenia muttered, pulling off her rubber gloves.

– Sweetheart, I’ll finish the dishes once Igor and I are done, – Anton said.

She kissed his cheek and left.

– You’ve got a tight-knit family, – Igor said. – Mari and I aren’t ready for any of this.

– No one’s ever fully ready, – Anton replied. – So, spill it. What happened?

Igor recounted the drug incident and the worsening situation at home. Anton listened intently.

– Igor, what’s happening between you and Mari is resentment. It may not seem like a big deal, but if left unspoken, it can tear you apart. From what you’ve said, Mari’s holding this grudge against herself and you. Are you angry at her?

– No, it’s just… she’s acting like an idiot. No, not an idiot—hysterical. Yeah, you’re right, I’m mad at her.

– She’s provoking you on purpose. You need to show her you don’t blame her and are ready to help, no matter what. The Bible says, ‘Love does not act unbecomingly, does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.’ You need to show her love like that. Don’t lord over her or judge her. Show love through patience. Yes, she’ll throw barbs. Yes, your calm will annoy her. But she’ll forgive herself when she sees there’s no judgment in your heart.

– Easier said than done, – Igor smirked. – But I think you’re right. I’m just not sure Mari will get it. I’m not Mike Tyson, ready to take her punches.

– Exactly! – Anton’s eyes lit up. – Not the punches! You haven’t gone on your honeymoon! Take her on a trip—it’s a great chance to fix things.

Igor smiled. They hashed out details, and he got ready to leave.

– Thanks, Anton. Put in a good word for me with Him! – Igor winked.

– You got it, bro. Come back anytime; we’d love to see you!

– Bye, Ksenia!

– Get her flowers she loves! – she called back. – Don’t worry, everyone goes through this. Safe travels!

– See ya, bro! – Igor shook Anton’s hand and left.

Back home, Mari was doing her nails and watching cartoons on the “Two by Two” channel. Igor had bought blue roses—not her favorite, but he thought they were unique. Seeing him, she paid no attention and kept painting her nails. “Here we go again!” Igor thought, sighing. He sat beside her, put a hand on her shoulder, and offered the bouquet.

She smiled.

– Mari, – Igor began, – we’ve lost something important and valuable!

Her smile turned into a grimace.

– And you bought flowers for that? What, did you lose my passport? – She glanced at him sideways; he was smiling. – Wait, I don’t even have one anymore! You mean something you wanted to give me, and you lost or forgot it, right? – Her face softened.

– You’re right, love. We forgot our honeymoon.

– Damn! – she gasped. – We totally did! What the hell! Not one person asked where we’re going! Well, Ksenia did, but I forgot. I was so busy with the house and…

Igor was thrilled. He’d missed her senseless chatter this week. “Finally, things are looking up,” he thought.

The newlyweds decided on Anapa. Why? Unclear, but Mari chose it, and being pregnant, Igor didn’t argue. Lately, their spats hadn’t gone his way. One such argument flared up on the way to the airport.

Through the car window, Mari watched cars zip by in the next lane. A pop song blared on the radio:

Beep-beep-beep
Your jeep’s honking,
Your jeep’s honking

Igor ignored it.

Something irked Mari, and she decided it was the music.

– How can you listen to this pop crap?!

– I’m not listening; I’m driving. By the way, there’s no such genre as ‘pop.’

– Yeah, sure, – she muttered, switching to her station.

– There’s commercial mixed-style music, and ‘pop’ is just a slang term.

Mari ignored him. They fell silent, the engine’s hum not drowning out the radio host:

– Attention, dear listeners, for the first time on our station, here’s a song by…

The song was dark, plunging listeners into despair. But it soothed Mari.

– By the way, – Igor noted, – I wrote an article about them.

– Finally, some good news today! – she shouted. – When are you gonna talk normally? Always mumbling under your breath.

– Me? Mumbling?! I’m trying to entertain you!

– Ha-ha, hilarious, – she mocked. – ‘Pop doesn’t exist, it’s a slang term!’ – She paused. – Igor, wake up! Who are you talking to? Me? I don’t care, honey. Talk to your imaginary friends in childhood, not here!

Igor clenched his teeth and gripped the wheel.

– Mari, – he said seriously, – why are we fighting? Are you tired of me?

– No! Forget it, don’t mind me, okay?

“I don’t like this,” Igor thought. “If this keeps up, it’s not heading anywhere good.”

He stopped the car.

– Why’d you stop? – she exclaimed, confused.

– Maybe we shouldn’t go anywhere?

– What are you talking about? – she asked, looking around as cars piled up behind them, forming a jam. – People are waiting, move!

– They’ll wait! – he said indifferently, as if oblivious to the situation. – They’re not going anywhere.

– Yeah, yeah, yeah… – she started, but, running out of words, punched his shoulder. – Drive! – she yelled, hitting him again. – Move it! – No reaction. – Why’d you stop? – She pounded him relentlessly. He didn’t push back, instead moving closer.

– Get off! Don’t touch me!!! – He ignored her screams, holding her tighter. She hit him, but he brushed her lips. Gradually, she stopped resisting, relaxing despite the angry shouts from passing drivers.

– Jerk! Moron! Idiot! Cretin! – curses reached them, but they didn’t care.

Igor pulled back, smiling into her sparkling eyes. She smiled, blushing, looking away.

– What’re you standing there for, dumbass! – a shout came from behind.

– I’m coming, stop yelling! – Igor shouted back, hitting the gas.

Mari looked at him, her cheeks redder. For the rest of the drive, she gazed dreamily out the window, smiling.

They reached the airport quickly and joined the security line.

– Hm, – Igor said, – looks like we’re stuck with this line. Like it or not, we’ve got to wait.

– Yeah, – Mari agreed. – Maybe I’ll talk to the guard, and he’ll let us skip?

Igor shrugged. Mari frowned and approached the guard.

– Hi, I’m Marina Solovyova, winner of the “Babylon Reborn” contest, – the guard squinted. – Don’t you remember me?

– Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.

– You didn’t watch “Babylon Reborn”?

– Nah, I was working that day. Got two jobs, don’t watch TV.

– I just wanted to know if there’s a separate screening for people with the chip?

– Oh, wait, you’re that girl! But no, no separate screening.

– That’s a shame.

– Can I ask something? – he continued.

– Sure, go ahead.

– Can I see the chip? Really curious how it stays in.

Mari smiled.

– It doesn’t ‘stay,’ – she showed her wrist. – It’s like part of me. You won’t even notice it.

The guard felt her wrist.

– Can’t feel a thing. Where is it? – he asked, surprised.

– You can only feel it near the pulse, right here.

She guided his hand to the chip.

– Feel it now?

– Yeah, small and hard.

– Mari! – Igor called. – Our turn.

Mari looked into the guard’s eyes.

– Sorry, gotta go.

– Safe travels! – he replied.

Mari nodded.

– What took you so long? – Igor grumbled. – Trying to cut the line, and our turn came anyway. Forget it, you’re not all-powerful!

– Chill, maybe I’ve got perks from this company I don’t even know about.

– Anything’s possible, but, – Igor kissed her cheek, – the main thing is we’ll relax! Maybe we don’t work too hard, but on a global scale, we’ll rest like everyone else.

– Yeah, – Mari nodded, gazing at the runway through the airport’s glass window.

* At boarding, Mari learned another person connected to the system was in business class with them.

Chapter 13. I Can’t, I Have to Go

“For a few days beyond a year, you will shudder, you carefree ones, for the vintage will fail, the harvest will not come.”
Isaiah 32:10

In Anapa, they settled into the “Golden Bay” hotel. The place felt pleasant, right by the sea with a pool to boot. Mari loved it, and Igor was content. They spent days sunbathing, swimming, lingering in cafés and bars, sailing on a yacht, and lounging on the beach.

Time flew by. They laughed, enjoyed themselves, and tried not to argue, though Mari occasionally threw tantrums over trivialities. Igor was getting used to his wife’s erratic nature—sometimes, he even found it endearing.

Mari munched on pizza, gazing at the sea. Igor lay on his stomach, savoring her quiet chewing. She ate over half and got bored.

– Want a slice? – she asked, waving a piece in front of his closed eyes. – This slice is begging you to eat it!

– Mmm, no thanks, – he replied, wrinkling his nose.

– Igor, – she raised her voice. – Am I supposed to get fat alone?!

– Yup, – he said, rolling onto his stomach.

Mari started feeding him, and he felt like a child being played with.

– Let me do it myself.

– Maybe I wanted to feed you!

– Thanks, I got it.

He ate, and Mari went for a swim. She returned to the beach shortly after.

– It’s boring alone, – she said, tugging his arm.

He resisted, but she pushed him.

– Honey, we just ate!

– Come on, I want to swim with you, – she whined.

A young mother nearby, whose son was splashing in the water, watched them enviously. Mari noticed and whispered to Igor:

– She’s staring. If you don’t come with me, she’ll burn a hole through us.

Igor frowned, then grinned.

– Fine, but we’re not walking.

– What?

– We’re running! – he shouted, roaring like a bear.

Mari squealed and bolted. Water splashed everywhere. Igor scooped her up, hoisted her onto his shoulders, and ran into the shallows.

– You’re not going to throw me, are you? – Mari asked.

– Why would you think that?! – Igor replied, then tossed her into the water with full force.

Splashes flew. Igor laughed. Mari surfaced, her eyes blazing with anger. Her behavior no longer surprised him.

– I’m going ashore, – she said sternly.

Igor splashed her a couple more times and apologized.

– Mari, did you hurt yourself? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t thinking about the baby, – he said, hugging her waist and kissing her belly.

– Igor, I didn’t hurt myself, – she snapped.

– Then what’s wrong, love? I’m trying so hard!

– Nothing! I want to sit alone and think. Please, leave me for a few minutes.

– You sure everything’s okay?

– Yes, – she confirmed. – Go swim.

He didn’t want to swim or stray far from her.

– I’m hitting the bathroom. You’ll be here?

Mari nodded. When he returned, she was sorting pebbles, building something. He still couldn’t figure out what upset her in the water.

– What’s my little devil building? – he asked warmly, placing his hands on her shoulders and massaging.

– Nothing, – she replied, still serious.

– Did something happen to my devil, and she’s not telling? – Mari smiled, rubbing her cheek against his hand. – So, you gonna share your secret?

She turned to face him, looking into his eyes.

– You really won’t leave me?

“What??? What’s the connection?” Igor thought, stunned. “I threw her in the water… THREW! That’s it! All this over nothing?” He made a tender face.

– Sweetheart! Come here. Of course I won’t leave you! Come to me, my wonder, I love you! – He lifted her into his arms; Mari rested her head on his shoulder. – Let’s go to the room.

– Yeah, – Mari said, smirking slyly at the woman watching them. The woman frowned and turned away as her child called.

– Mom, look who I found! – he shouted excitedly.

– Good job! Where was it? – she asked, focusing on her son.

Mari kissed Igor’s shoulder. “That’s right, stop eyeing other women’s men,” she thought. Igor carried her to their room.

The honeymoon passed quickly, days slipping like sand through their fingers. The couple grew bored and began wandering the beach at night. Nightlife thrived—some partied in clubs, others dined in restaurants, and the youngest roamed by the sea.

Igor walked arm-in-arm with Mari, watching young guys and girls. Street performers put on shows; fire jugglers entertained, then passed a hat for tips. Igor saw nothing special—they tossed flaming torches like he could juggle balls.

– I can’t even give them anything, – Mari said with a hint of sadness. – These kinds of free-spirited shows won’t last.

– They could work for food! – Igor mused.

– Would you want to work for food?

– Not just food—beer too! Why not?

– If I wasn’t your millionaire wife, I’d say beer wouldn’t buy me. Got no arguments left? I’m feeling down, let’s go.

They strolled on slowly. Mari slipped off her flip-flops to feel the sand—cool, damp, free of sticks or shards. They settled on the shore to watch the sunrise. Mari loved sunrises, even dragging Igor out of bed early for them. He wasn’t thrilled about these Black Sea strolls, but her silence during them calmed him.

The sound of the waves was soothing. A cool sea breeze seemed to urge the couple closer. The peace was disturbed only by a lone old woman wandering the beach. She wore a headscarf, dark and unremarkable from afar. As she neared, Igor recognized her as a Roma woman.

She approached them. Igor had no interest in her ramblings. Thankfully, she passed by.

– Wait, please, – Mari called. The woman turned. – Do you read palms?

– Got nothing better to do?! – Igor hissed. – She’s just after money!

– Relax, I’m the wallet here. She can’t take much.

– What’s the difference? I can’t stand them.

– Come on, Igor, let her read my palm. No one’s ever done it! Please, please, please!

Igor tensed, giving her a disapproving look.

– Fine, let her. Can you do it? – he started, but noticed the woman walking away.

– Wait! – Mari shouted, standing. – Hold on! – The woman kept going, ignoring them. – Stop! – Mari yelled, chasing her.

The woman stopped and turned. Her face was scarred: four knife cuts on her right cheek, her right nostril torn. Mari gasped, covering her mouth, and forced out:

– Can you read palms?

The woman nodded.

– Do I pay you now or what? I’ve never done this.

The woman pulled out a lighter and lit a flame, handing Mari a card that read: “I am mute.”

Mari’s mouth fell open. Igor approached, unsure what to say.

The woman handed them another card: “I will write what I see on a board.”

Igor grew nervous and turned to Mari:

– You still want her to read your palm?

Mari looked at him.

– Got any cash? – she whispered.

Igor rummaged through his pockets, scraping together about 1,500 rubles.

– Will this do? – he asked the woman.

She waved her hands no, grabbed chalk, and wrote: “Don’t show me all your money! God doesn’t approve of revealing your cards too soon.” She ran out of space, erased it, and continued: “I’ll read first, then you decide how to bless me.” She reached for Mari’s hands.

Mari trembled, showing her palms. The woman stared in horror, then looked at Igor with pity. With shaking hands, she wrote: “You’ve brought a CURSE upon yourself! I don’t need your money!”

– What nonsense? – Igor snapped. – Take the money, tell us what you saw, don’t leave it like that! – he shouted. The woman’s hands shook as she erased and wrote: “I can’t. I have to go.” She walked away.

– Stop! – Igor yelled, grabbing her shoulder. – What do you think you’re doing? – He raised his fist. The woman shielded her face, letting out a hoarse, guttural sound. Igor saw her tongue was cut. Startled, he yanked his hand back as if touching a hot stove. The woman turned, spat, and walked along the shore.

* Meanwhile, a conference in North America discussed the chip’s positive economic impact.

Chapter 14. Lie Down! I Want to Listen to Her

“And on her forehead was written a name of mystery: ‘Babylon the great, mother of prostitutes and of earth’s abominations…’”
Revelation 17:5

They tried not to think about the trip. Whenever it came up, they averted their eyes and changed the subject. The encounter with the Roma woman made Igor realize life could bring unpleasant surprises, leaving him with questions he couldn’t answer. Not wanting to worry Mari, he started calling his brother often. Anton was always ready to listen and let him vent, so their phone calls grew longer and their debates livelier.

– I think God is in us, in our limitless potential, – Igor said during one call. – He wants us to reach Him through trial and error. He’s the ultimate goal to strive for. But you make it sound like He doesn’t care what we achieve, valuing everyone equally, no matter who they were in life.

– Everyone is priceless to God. He’s not hypocritical, but just. Sin, in Hebrew, means mistake, and we all make them, all deserving punishment.

– Oscar Wilde said the only things we never regret are our mistakes. Is God really going to punish us for mistakes we learn from? If we never err, how can we ever get it right?

– Oscar Wilde, – Anton interrupted, – was wrong!

– Right, like you and me!

– No, not just that. He was a deeply unhappy man and lost all interest in life by the end. Despite being a great writer—and I agree with you there—he won’t inherit God’s kingdom, – Igor’s eyes flashed with indignation. – He erred, sinned, and perhaps led others to sin. Scripture says those who learn unrighteousness and teach it to others will be called least. Many first will be last, and many last will be first. Yes, Wilde was a great writer, but what did that get him there?

– If there is really there, – Igor cut in.

– Even from a worldly view, you can’t be certain of anything. If you don’t believe in an afterlife, you still doubt—there’s a grave, but life hasn’t ended yet.

– Sure, I doubt. I know death exists, but is there life after? I don’t know! But one thing I know for sure…

While Igor talked with Anton, Mari was bored.

She lay on the bed, facing the TV, watching her belly, which had grown noticeably in the past two months. She stroked it gently, mentally talking to her baby girl.

“My sweet little one, my darling,” Mari said to her child. “Where’s Daddy? What’s he doing? Why’s he always off somewhere, searching for something? Doesn’t he know we worry about him?”

“Where’s our Daddy? I love him so much,” Mari thought. “Of course, I love you too, even more than Daddy, but I can’t kiss you.” After these thoughts, she kissed her palms and touched her belly. “But I can do this!”

– …As long as there’s life, don’t hold back on anything, – Igor continued after a pause. – Take everything from it.

Anton smiled. He’d heard Igor’s words before, then met people disillusioned by them.

– Sure, but I think you can’t know anything for certain, not even the thoughts of your own flesh and blood—your wife, right?

– Not the best example, but yeah, I don’t know what Mari’s thinking now. Probably waiting for me… Let’s not change the subject, – Igor steered back.

– I didn’t stray far. I’ve heard what you said from plenty of others. But what does it mean?

– It means doing whatever you want. To you, it might sound like Satanism, with its main rule, ‘Do what thou wilt,’ but I think it’s right—try everything and die.

– That’s a convenient stance for sin. Sin while you’re not in hell yet! No! Taking everything from life means…

– …Not missing a crumb. Those who take without giving hasten their end. Jesus said, ‘The more you give, the more you receive.’ If you only take, one day you’ll see there’s nothing left to take! Understand?

Igor recalled Ben’s words and shivered but refused to yield.

– I get it, but life ends someday, and then you can’t take anything!

Anton sighed.

– That’s just it, Igor—life never ends. Never! – he finished.

Igor fell silent briefly.

– I’ll think about it, Anton, but I should go. My wife’s waiting! Catch you later!

– Safe travels and good night! – Anton said, hanging up.

“We’ll make him jealous,” Mari said to her baby, stroking her belly. She felt immense love, soothing the hours of her husband’s absence by caressing her stomach.

Mari shivered pleasantly as the baby stirred slightly. She wanted to stroke her but couldn’t, so she hugged her belly with both hands.

Imagining Igor, she was startled when he opened the bedroom door. She quickly hid her face behind a pillow, giggling.

– What’re you two doing without me? – Igor asked cheerfully.

Mari looked at him, blushing.

– Nothing! Sit here! – She patted the bed.

Igor sat, a pleased smile on his face. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and Mari felt a twinge in her back but ignored it.

– It’s getting so big! – he said, eyeing her belly.

– She was so active today, like she was finding a comfy spot.

Igor laughed joyfully.

– Lie down! I want to listen to her.

Mari smiled shyly.

– It’s like a secret agent lives in there, and you’re spying! – she said, lying on her back.

– Come on! I just love listening to her, – he replied, pressing his ear to her belly.

– Wonder what she’s doing in there?

– Oh, let her do whatever, as long as she doesn’t join a sewing club.

Igor laughed with Mari.

– Yeah, or she might miss a stitch, – he added playfully.

– And someone’d be left without a wife!

Igor made a mock-serious face.

– Don’t joke like that. You’re both precious to me!

Mari smiled, stroking his head.

– I know! – she said.

– Whoa! – Igor exclaimed, feeling movement, like a hand or foot. – Did you see that? – he said, eyes wide with boyish excitement.

– I didn’t just see it! – she laughed.

– Damn, that’s amazing! – Igor said, scooting closer. – Just thinking there’s someone in there feels unreal!

He kept his hand on her belly.

– You know, she’s extra playful today.

Igor paused, thinking.

– So, can we still… or do we need to wait?

– Still can! – she said approvingly.

Igor grinned widely, kissing her gently, his hands roaming her body. He caressed her waist and hips, but Mari couldn’t relax. Each time he touched her lower back, pain flared. Igor craved reciprocation, but her lips stayed cold.

– Am I doing something wrong? – he asked, concerned.

– No, it’s just… something hurts back there.

– Back there?

– Yeah, – she said, pointing to the spot. – Here.

Mari turned sideways. Igor spotted a red blister on her lower back.

– You’ve got a pimple or boil or something!

– No way! – Mari exclaimed, jumping up. – My immune system’s stronger during pregnancy; that shouldn’t happen! – she grumbled, heading to the mirror. – Oh my God! – she gasped, seeing the boil’s reflection.

– What is it? – Igor asked, coming closer.

– There’s a black ointment in the medicine cabinet, ichthyol. Grab it, plus peroxide and a bandage.

– A boil, huh? – Igor asked.

She shot him an annoyed look. He fetched everything.

– Can you apply it? – she asked.

– Even a kid could do this! – he said, rubbing on the ointment.

Finished, he tried to hug her, but she pushed his hands away.

– I don’t want to. Tomorrow’s a big day, – Mari said, lying down with her back to him.

Igor sighed heavily, lay facing her, and soon fell asleep. Mari tossed and turned, finally dozing off. After a restless sleep, she got up for water. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of mineral water. As she raised it to her lips, a sharp pain stabbed her lower abdomen. The bottle slipped, shattering on the floor, water spilling everywhere. Mari sank to the ground, clutching her belly, and saw blood pooling beneath her.

She tried to stand but couldn’t and screamed:

– Igor!

He didn’t hear, still sleeping. Mari crawled toward the bedroom.

– Igor!!! – she screamed again.

The open fridge beeped.

– Igor!!! – she yelled with all her might, crawling to the bedroom, leaving a trail of blood. – It’s starting!

Igor kept sleeping, dreaming of crowds: fans and people eagerly following him, a great man.

* The radio blared: “We’re already seven million!”

Chapter 15. I’ll Take You to the ICU

“Your silver has become dross, your best wine mixed with water.”
Isaiah 1:22

Igor dreamed of rallies and political gatherings where he rallied people to overthrow a tyrant and restore justice. He believed toppling the dictator would bring world peace. He sought supporters, craving vengeance, though he didn’t yet know why. People saw him as a prophet. Suddenly, a woman’s voice broke through:

– Igor!!!

He ignored it, continuing his speech:

– We must fight! We can win! All is not lost!

– Igor, wake up! It’s starting!!! – the voice called from above.

– What’s starting? – he asked.

– I’m giving birth! Igor, wake up, call an ambulance, I’m bleeding! Igor!

– Bleeding? Who are you? – he mumbled, then a sharp blow to his head snapped him awake. The dream lingered, and he struggled to grasp reality.

– Call the ambulance, Igor! – Mari screamed, lying in a pool of blood.

Seeing her, he panicked, jumped out of bed, and fumbled for his phone.

– Idiot! It’s on the nightstand! – Mari yelled furiously.

Igor grabbed it and dialed emergency services.

– Hello, ambulance, come quick, someone’s bleeding out! – he shouted into the phone.

– Calm down. Who’s bleeding? – the operator asked.

Only then did Igor realize he wasn’t dreaming.

– My wife’s bleeding out! – he yelled.

– A unit’s on its way. Stay put.

– I’m coming now! – he roared, hanging up.

Igor scooped Mari into his arms and carried her to the car. Twenty minutes later, doctors were working on her. He wasn’t allowed in the operating room and watched through a glass window.

When Mari started screaming, Igor couldn’t bear it and stepped outside. Pacing nervously, he lit one cigarette after another from a pack he’d saved for such a moment. A nurse called him from the hospital entrance. Tossing his cigarette aside, he ran to her.

– Well?!

– I’m so sorry, Igor, but your daughter…

– What about my daughter?!

– She died in the womb. My condolences.

The world stopped. Walls crumbled. His mind was empty. The nurse’s words were too heavy to process, weighing on his shoulders like a boulder.

– H-how? I… heard her… k-knocking for me! It can’t be!

– I’m so sorry. It happens. She may have died from blood loss during transport. We couldn’t stop the bleeding during delivery. Your wife is in critical condition, in a coma. We’ve done a transfusion.

Igor couldn’t comprehend it. A lump choked his throat; he couldn’t cry or speak.

– I’ll take you to the ICU.

Igor nodded numbly and followed. His heart refused to accept what happened. Mari lay with tubes protruding from her mouth. He stared at the monitor, where her heartbeat pulsed in jagged lines. He didn’t think, didn’t suffer, didn’t live—he just waited for her to wake. He stood there until morning when a woman’s anguished sobs came from behind. It was Mari’s mother, her father beside her. Seeing them was painful; Igor felt guilty and avoided their eyes. Mari remained unconscious. The doctor pulled him aside.

– Igor, it’s hard to tell you this, but we saved Mari.

– And the baby? – he whispered.

– She had a miscarriage, – the doctor paused, sighing deeply. – Your wife is in critical condition. We haven’t identified the cause yet, but we’re doing everything we can to…

– Mari! – Igor interrupted, rushing to her room. – Marina!

Bursting into the operating room, he couldn’t believe his eyes: her body was covered in oozing sores, surrounded by white-coated doctors.

– I’m sorry, you can’t be here. Please leave, – the doctor said, grabbing his shoulder. – Let me explain, – he continued, leading Igor to the waiting area. – How do I put this… Remember chemistry class? Drop sodium in water, it explodes. That’s what’s happening in Mari’s blood. We can’t disturb her. She’s showing pregnancy dermatoses, psoriasis, hyperhidrosis, erythema, papular dermatitis, prurigo Besnier, or melanosis. We don’t know the exact cause, but we suspect her body is rejecting a foreign object. Her immune system might not be syncing with the calculator’s molecular system, though it could be something else.

– Can you stop it? Remove the calculator?

– Igor, it’s not an implant—it’s a nanobot, like removing a stomach or vital organ. We can’t risk it without a precise diagnosis.

Lines from the Book of Revelation flashed in Igor’s mind: “…and loathsome sores came upon the people who bore the mark of the beast and worshiped its image.” And: “…no one could buy or sell unless he had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of its name.”

– Could it be true?!

– Sorry, what?

– Just thoughts. Ever read the Book of Revelation? The Apocalypse?

– Sorry, I’m not into religion.

– That’s the thing—I’m not either! So why’s it haunting me?! – he shouted, storming outside.

– That’d drive anyone nuts, – the doctor muttered, pulling a pack of peanuts from his pocket.

Igor sat on the steps, smoking, when Mari’s father joined him and asked for a cigarette.

– How you holding up? – he asked.

Igor gave a crooked smile.

– Lousy.

– Same here. My daughter’s dying, I’m a wreck, and my wife’s losing it.

Smoke streamed evenly from Igor’s mouth as he looked at him, puzzled.

– What’s stopping you from changing things?

The man paused.

– Nothing yet. Listen, how you planning to handle it?

– Handle what? – Igor didn’t follow.

– The lawsuit. You’re planning to sue, right?

– I’ll find a good lawyer, – Igor said after a pause.

– Here’s a contact for someone I know. He’ll try to help, but don’t get your hopes up.

– Don’t try? They’ll cripple half the planet! They’re all going down!

– Igor, I hate to break it to you, but you can’t jail someone who doesn’t exist.

– Doesn’t exist? Are you out of your mind?

– If my mind’s my own, then yeah. Igor, I spent fifteen years in state security and never pinned them. There’s nothing to grab onto. We vetted them for seven years. They’ve got no weak spots. You can’t sue time or God for what’s happened, is happening, or will happen. It’s pointless, pure nonsense. One conspiracy stands on another, following the right-hand rule: Nazis, racists, anti-Semites, you name it. There’s no truth! No truth, no democracy, no totalitarianism, no paternalism. None of it exists! There’s only one law in this rotten life: you don’t scam, you don’t survive. Even that’s part of the system.

We built this project with every country involved. It was designed to make the law unbreakable, to clean people’s minds of garbage. They’re already infected with informational trash! One says one thing, another something else, a third something different—who’s right? Media’s no help. We tried! Followed the Bremen Town Musicians’ trail, but it’s not enough! That’s why “Babylon” came to be—a perfect system, built by multiple nations to control people. What happened to my daughter? Just a fluke. I told her not to shoot up!

– She was shooting up?!

– You didn’t know? You think her hepatitis just appeared? – Igor was stunned by the former security officer’s bluntness. – Now try proving her boils came from the chip. They’ll be shocked she didn’t have AIDS.

Igor was livid. He hadn’t expected such words about Mari from her own father. He raised his fist, but took a punch to the gut and fell onto the steps. Coughing and gasping, he listened as his father-in-law continued calmly:

– Maybe there’s no AIDS at all, just money laundering. Still, try the lawsuit—it’s intriguing. It’ll be a scandal. I’ll watch you try to justify it, – he finished.

Igor slowly recovered. The doctor’s words echoed: “Drop sodium in water, it explodes. That’s what’s happening in Mari’s blood.” He didn’t want to believe what was inevitable, impossible, yet unfolding before him. In the room, Mari’s mother sat by her, weeping.

– I knew it’d be like this, I knew, I knew! – she repeated. – God punished him! For everything!

– Anna Ivanovna, calm down!

– I knew, I knew… – she went on.

– Don’t take it so hard!

– I knew… – she continued.

– Calm down! What did you know? – Igor asked, trying to comfort her.

– That God would punish him, and He did.

– Punish who? For what?

– My husband! My mother told me, ‘Expect nothing good from him, he’s godless.’

Igor didn’t understand the woman he was supposed to call mother. He listened silently as she poured out her grievances, hugging her, patting her back, and plotting to punish those running “Babylon Reborn.”

Two weeks later, Mari remained in a coma. Igor stayed by her side at first, waiting for her to wake, but as legal preparations demanded more time, his visits dwindled.

Igor gathered evidence and rallied support. The tragedy soon became national news. He gave interviews, blaming the company for their child’s death and Mari’s condition, quickly gaining allies among medical workers and religious communities. He thought he’d become a heroic liberator, saving others from this affliction, while Mari slipped to the background.

Mari woke. A blurry, smiling face hovered before her, but she couldn’t make it out.

– Igor! – she called and asked at once. A frail but painfully familiar hand touched her. – Mom? Where’s Igor? Call him, Mom! Where is he? Mom?!

Tears streamed from her eyes. Her mother stroked her hand, gazing at her sick daughter’s face.

* Meanwhile, across the country, Lisandro Frankenberg tallied profits from those he called “new converts.”

Chapter 16. Mari

“And the sound of harpists and musicians, of flute players and trumpeters, will be heard in you no more, and a craftsman of any craft will be found in you no more.”
Revelation 18:22

Over the next week, Igor didn’t visit the hospital, and Mari missed him terribly. She was angry at him but couldn’t complain to anyone: her mouth was inflamed from stomatitis, and constant blood transfusions brought no improvement. Her body ached relentlessly, and painkillers barely dulled it.

Tubes attached to her body supplied oxygen, as she struggled to breathe. She’d seen such patients during her training but never imagined herself in their place, especially so young. She’d dreamed of a different life. In a half-dream state, she longed for one thing: not her beloved mother’s hand, but Igor’s, though she’d known him less than a year.

Mari was dying and knew it. She’d felt this way during an overdose once, saved by her parents when her body was still healthy. Now, it was rotting. With a living mind, it was an unending nightmare, whether her eyes were open or closed. Pain tormented her constantly. In her dreams, she saw hell—Igor searching for her but unable to see her. She was behind glass, where he gazed at his reflection, imagining her beside him, touching her fingers. Mari reached for the glass, and when their fingers met, she woke, saw her mother’s face, and wept, trying to say her husband’s name.

Days dragged on, giving her time to think: “Mom, you’re here. If I could ask you for anything, I’d ask you to call Igor. Igor, where are you? Why aren’t you here? Don’t you know I want to see you? …Maybe I’ll look at Mom, and she’ll understand and tell me where Igor is.” Mari glanced at her mother, who smiled through tears. “Mom! I can’t bear watching you cry!” She looked away. “God, I’m like a teenager waiting for my parents to understand, but getting nothing. If I could speak, I’d tell her everything.” Trying to speak cramped her jaw. “God, everything hurts, it’s unbearable! These stupid painkillers don’t help… Igor, his back, he’s so handsome. Idiot, fool, why aren’t you here? Why, what did I do to deserve this?” Her eyes reddened, tears welling. Her mother noticed and tried to soothe her:

– Sweetie, don’t cry, it’ll be okay.

“Sure, ‘it’ll be okay,’ don’t cry. And you’re crying the moment I look at you. That doesn’t help. Fine, Mari, calm down, tears won’t fix this. Honestly, what can I do to help myself? Nothing… That’s not the encouragement I want. Maybe ‘everything will work out’ or ‘you’ll get better, it’ll be fine.’ God! I don’t even believe that myself! Do I want to see Igor to say goodbye? No! I want his children and a long, happy life. I want two kids, a girl and a boy. I’ll name the boy Andrey, the girl Lida. We’ll live in a new house, and Igor will earn tons… Wait, I already have tons of money. Money… What good is it now? Stupid money! Stupid chip, it’s all your fault! Without you, I’d be healthy, and my daughter would be alive. Damn tech miracle!”

Mari scratched her left arm until it bled. Her mother grabbed her hands and called for help:

– Somebody, help! She’s hurting herself! – she cried, struggling to hold Mari’s hands.

Two doctors rushed in. One injected a sedative, the other tied Mari’s hands to the bed.

“Fool, tried to help yourself, and now your hands are tied. And now… I… sleep…”

Mari passed out.

Waking, she saw a young doctor sitting beside her, looking at her.

– Morning, Mari! You’re awake! – he exclaimed.

Mari looked away.

– I get it. Everything was great, then this chip, and you want to keep living, but this pain, this new life—it’s unbearable, – Mari turned back to him.

The doctor smiled.

– Yeah, it’s hard to accept you can’t do much on your own now. But hating yourself isn’t the answer! – Mari nodded. – This chip ruined your life, but there’s no going back. – He touched her shoulder. – Mari, sorry we tied you up. We didn’t want you hurting yourself more. We can untie you if you promise not to try anything. You’re in your right mind; there’s no need to restrain you, right? – She tried to smile, but sharp pain clenched her jaw. She winced and nodded.

– I knew you’d get me, – he said, untying the straps. – You won’t do anything foolish, right? – She tried smiling again, but pain shot through her.

– I see it hurts. Try to rest, push out bad thoughts, focus on happy moments in your life, and hold onto them. Think of them over and over, and the pain will fade, – he gently stroked her head. – Mari, I hear that’s what you like to be called, and all your friends do. Almost forgot—I’m Eduard, or just Edik. I want to be your friend. Don’t lose hope! What’s happening to you happens to everyone—we all get sick, we all die, it’s normal, – Mari flinched, – but I’ve seen many deaths and incurable diseases, and I’ve seen healing too. Those who recovered had one thing in common: they wanted to live so badly they didn’t believe the diagnoses. They spat in my face with their eyes, and know why? – Mari’s eyes lit up, her pain briefly forgotten. – Because they believed their time hadn’t come. So, Mari, don’t trust anyone who looks at you with pity or sees a living corpse. You’ll live as long as you need to walk your path, – he paused. – So, what do you think, has your time come?

Mari clenched her fists as best she could, looked into his eyes, and said as loudly as she could:

– No-o-o!

– I thought so too, – he said, smiling. – Alright, Mari, I’d love to chat more, but other patients are waiting. You don’t mind, right? – Mari gave him an approving look. – Great! Keep fighting! – He left the room.

Two nurses entered right after.

– He’s so hot, right? Just look at him, – one said, both pausing in the doorway to watch Eduard leave. – I want him.

– Me too, but that jerk doesn’t even glance my way. Sicko. I’ve tried so many times, and he’s like, whatever!

– Hey! – Eduard called, turning back. – Why’re we standing around? Work!

The nurses turned and approached Mari.

– No, but did you hear that? Girls are swooning, and he’s like, ‘Why’re we standing?!’ No shame, no conscience!

– He’ll dance for me yet. I got this corset—God help him if he doesn’t notice my figure. I’ll make him pay!

“Sheep, can you stop yapping right in front of me? I’m still alive, you know!” Mari fumed, but the nurses didn’t notice, continuing their work, changing her IV and adjusting pillows.

– Why do you think a hunk like him’s still single?

– Guys like him stay bachelors forever. With those shoulders, he’ll still be a catch at forty.

– Yeah, those shoulders! I just wanna sneak up, hug him, and ask some nonsense.

– YESSS, – they squealed together.

– Me too, me too! And he waves his arms so cute!

– Like a little penguin, – one mimicked a bird flapping wings, turning side to side.

The other laughed, copying her. Mari was furious—nobody had ever ignored her so blatantly. She sucked in as much air as she could and whispered with all her might:

– Shut up!

The nurses froze, silently finishing their tasks.

“That’s right,” Mari thought. “I’m not dying yet! Igor will still look at me with passion. Got it?”

The nurses left, and Mari was alone with her thoughts. “When I recover, I’ll hug Igor first. Then order sushi—ten kinds of rolls should do. And a California cocktail. I’ll get back at these dumb nurses—kiss that sweet doctor on the cheek, tell him he’s a darling. No, first I’ll take a bath, get myself together, then do all that. Wait, when I recover, I want to step on the floor and feel it with my whole foot. I should wiggle my toes—my body will swell if I stop moving.” Mari wiggled her left big toe. “What if I try two?”

She strained, moving two toes, but a sharp pain shot through her right foot. Mari inhaled deeply and exhaled. “Okay, no big deal. My right toe’s got a felon. Good thing Igor can’t see me now—he loves my toes! Stay calm. If I keep my wits, I’ll map out my sick and healthy spots in a day.”

Two hours later.

“This is bad! If I were my doctor, I’d say treatment’s pointless. Now I know how hopeless patients felt during my training. The morphine I stole was probably what they needed. How stupid I was, how careless. Seeing things from this angle clears your head better than any drug…”

* Lisandro’s phone rang. He picked up.

– Hello, – he said.

– We’ve got a problem, – a worried voice replied.

Chapter 17. Igor

“Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made…”
Genesis 3:1

Sitting at the bar, Igor sipped whiskey and brooded. He was furious. The thought that his wife was dying and he was powerless gnawed at him. Memories of their shared dreams, their fights, and reconciliations played in his mind. Tears blurred his eyes. He couldn’t fathom what they’d done to deserve this, blaming himself one moment, justifying himself the next. If not for him, Mari would be healthy, their child alive. Everything had crashed down at once. He began to see a conspiracy in his fate, desperate to find someone to blame and punish. He held the “Babylon Reborn” company and its founder, Lisandro Frankenberg, responsible for all their woes.

As Igor drowned in grief, a distinguished man with a cane watched him. After a moment’s hesitation, he approached and sat beside him.

– Must’ve hit you hard, – the stranger said with sympathy.

Igor stared at him.

– I see you’re caught in this trap too? – the limping man asked.

– Huh? What do you mean?

– You know, The Trap! Émile Zola. Haven’t you read it?

– Oh, got it. So you’re well-read. I’m here out of despair. Sure, I’ve read it, – Igor grumbled.

– You’re right. My job requires a lot of reading. I edit, refine. Writers are creative, soaring to the heavens, but I’m grounded. Without me, no article has a foundation, a spark, something to compare it to, or a way to judge its worth.

– You like your job? What magazine?

– Life. Ever heard of it?

– Life, like the American one?

– In English, Life; in Russian, Zhizn; in Turkish, Hayat; in Latin, Vita. Say what you will, life is life everywhere.

– So there’s a Russian Life? – Igor asked, and the man nodded. – What brings you here? Wife lock you out?

The editor clutched his stomach, laughing loudly.

– You’re a riot! Wife! No, I’m not married. Got a son, but he doesn’t care for me. Won’t even look at me.

Igor finished his whiskey and turned to him.

– You know what it’s like to lose a child? I didn’t even get to be a father, and that bastard took her from me! – he shouted.

– I’m afraid this won’t comfort you, but I’ve seen fathers lose their kids. I haven’t faced that myself, but I know it’s heavy. I’m so sorry…

– Hmph, – Igor muttered. – Can you imagine, that creep took them from me! My wife’s dying. All because of him…

– Who?

– Lisandro Frankenberg, that foreign scum! If not for his system… his ‘Babylon’… my wife would be fine. Screw it, I’d be alone, but she’d be alive, got it?

The man nodded.

– You could sue him. Make him answer for his sins.

– Hmph. Thought about it, but it’d be easier to ambush him and tear him apart.

– Oh, no. Guys like him are well-guarded. Ever killed anyone? – Igor shook his head. – Exactly. Don’t sweat it! I know a lawyer. Here’s his card; he’ll help.

Igor took the card. It read: “Vitaliy Vaflya – Attorney.”

– Vaflya?! – Igor smirked.

– Yeah, you don’t choose your last name. You’re born with it, then decide whether to keep it.

– What kind of lawyer keeps a name like that?

– A smart one. That name’s hard to forget when you’re drunk and easy to recall in a bind.

– Oh, I see! Thanks. Uh… – he hesitated, – sorry, what’s your name?

– Alexander.

– Last name?

– Segundo. Alexander Segundo.

– Not Russian either. Well, thanks, Alexander Segundo.

– You’re welcome, Igor.

– Wait, how do you know me?

– I was at the concert, saw you give your seat to your wife.

– Got it. Alright, Alexander, I’m heading out. Don’t like sitting till I’m blue.

– Safe travels. Good luck!

– You too!

Igor boarded a bus, too drunk, and missed his stop.

Waking, he found himself on a bench at a bus stop. “Must’ve been the driver’s doing,” he thought. “What was I doing yesterday?” He rummaged through his pockets to check for his wallet and documents. No wallet, but he found the “Vitaliy Vaflya” card.

– Who’s this Vitaliy? – he muttered, memories of the night clearing. He recalled Alexander and their talk, realizing he couldn’t delay. He searched for his phone, but it wasn’t there. The stop was empty—no one to ask for help.

– What kind of crap is going on?! – he yelled, kicking a trash can, cursing again, and sitting down. No ideas came, so he lay on his side, back to the road. Feeling his nose stuffed, he pinched a nostril and blew. “God, help!” he said in despair, rubbing his nose and eye. Something got in his eye, and he blinked to clear it. Mid-blink, he spotted something silver, shiny, and slimy.

– My phone! – Igor said, surprised. He picked it up, covered in snot. – Damn snot! – He wiped it on the bench and found his wallet underneath.

Joy overwhelmed him.

“Must’ve fallen out while I slept,” he thought, hearing tires screech behind him.

– Man, I was starting to worry! Tried waking you for 20 minutes, no dice. Mixing gin with vodka?

Igor grinned widely.

– Nah, rum with tequila and vodka with brandy, I think…

– Alright, hop in, you scared me. You seem like a decent guy, not some drunk. Don’t experiment like that again, or who knows who you’ll ride with next.

– Thanks, man. I owe you.

At home, Igor cleaned up and called the lawyer.

– “In Law” Legal Firm. This is Natalia. How can I help you?

– Hi, Natalia, can you connect me with Vitaliy Vaflya?

– What’s the matter?

– Attempted murder and bodily harm. I’m the victim.

– One moment.

A minute later.

– I’m sorry, his schedule’s full this week. Maybe next week?

– No, that won’t do. Tell him it’s Igor Solovyov from Alexander Segundo.

– One moment.

The secretary made another call, then asked:

– Are you the husband of Marina Solovyova, the first participant in the ‘Babylon Reborn’ program?

– Yes, that’s me!

– Great. Can you come by at four?

– Yes, agreed.

– All the best.

Igor headed to the law firm. On the way, he thought about the odd Alexander. Curiosity sparked, he wanted to know more. At a newsstand, he asked for Zhizn magazine.

– You mean Life? – the vendor asked.

– No, it’s called Zhizn, in Russian.

– Let me check. Only one in Russian is Star Life. That it?

– Let me see, – Igor flipped through but found no Alexander Segundo.

– Nope, not it. Sorry for the trouble.

“Weird, I don’t recall such a magazine either, but maybe the lawyer knows this Alexander?”

At the firm, Igor asked:

– Do you know Alexander Segundo? Editor of Zhizn magazine? He gave me your card.

– No, doesn’t ring a bell, – the lawyer replied.

* Alexander Segundo still sat in the bar, waiting for a chance to meet his son.

Chapter 18. All Rise, Court Is in Session!

“By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not.”
Song of Solomon 3:1

Igor woke in high spirits, confident he’d win the lawsuit. After freshening up, he washed his face, combed his hair, and placed the comb on the shelf next to a wedding photo. He looked at Mari, smiling and full of life in the picture.

– They’ll pay for everything! – he said aloud, kissing the photo. He stood in thought for a moment before leaving.

A crowd gathered outside the courthouse, supporting Igor—ordinary workers alongside wealthy, well-known figures. Their interest surprised and pleased him. Curious, he approached a showman and asked:

– Hi, what brings you here?

– I’m standing up for a prophet in his own land!

– What’s that mean?

– As long as there’s someone who’ll always resist, Latunsky’s doomed to fail.

– Latunsky?! – Igor repeated, pausing briefly before turning to enter the courthouse.

– What, you haven’t read Bulgakov?

– I have, – Igor replied, moving on.

Familiar music played behind him—a band he’d once interviewed, now performing in his support. Igor grinned and strode forward confidently. He caught the song’s opening words:

“I work, I toil, I’ve got a family, life goes on as usual, but today I…”

– Shut up, or we’ll use force! – a police major shouted.

“I feel out of place, the feuilleton’s betrayed by the system,” reached Igor. He didn’t turn but heard a scuffle breaking out behind him.

His lawyer met him and escorted him to the courtroom. Across the room, Timur, the defendant, spoke with his attorney. Igor scanned the room, took a sip of water, and heard:

– All rise, court is in session!

Everyone stood. The judge entered—a stout, clumsy man in glasses. Taking his seat, he allowed others to sit. The trial began.

Plaintiff: Igor Gennadievich Solovyov.
Defendant: Timur Vasilievich Zagitov, deputy to Lisandro Frankenberg.

– Lisandro Frankenberg is accused of distributing a product causing severe health harm. Preliminary investigations established that the aforementioned head of “Babylon Reborn” approved the distribution of a product with insufficient testing, resulting in severe harm to the health of the plaintiff’s wife, Marina Ivanovna Solovyova. Authorities have filed a lawsuit prohibiting the product’s distribution under Articles 4, Sections 1 and 2, and Article 7 of the Consumer Protection Law. Do the parties have any motions?

Igor’s attorney stood and addressed the court:

– Your Honor, I request to admit evidence to the case, – he handed the judge a medical report with photos of the victim.

Meanwhile, Mari lay on a cot, squeezing pus from her index finger with her teeth. Her body ached; each abscess brought unbearable pain. She feared losing her fingers before seeing Igor, unable to touch him. The felon on her finger kept her restless, and without sedatives, she couldn’t sleep. Holding one finger in her mouth and her right hand in saline solution, she felt like a leper, a helpless beggar, a woman who’d never cared for herself. Staring at her swollen veins, she was horrified by her ugliness, too ashamed to show herself, regretting what had happened.

“How hideous I am,” Mari thought, looking in the mirror she’d asked to be placed in front of her, out of spite. She pulled her forelock, and a strand of gray, dull, tangled hair came away in her hand. She waited for her husband, filled with resentment and hatred for passing this burden to her. But Igor wasn’t there. Guilt and a need to justify himself drove him. Without vindication, he couldn’t face his sick wife. “Where are you, Igor?” she said to herself. “Why aren’t you here when I need you most? I’m such a fool. Does he even need me now? Does he want to see me? Jerk, maybe he thinks I’m already dead?! Stop! Don’t think that. He said he loves me, that he won’t leave me. You won’t leave me, right, Igor?”

The judge reviewed the photos and addressed Igor’s attorney.

– You claim the calculator caused Marina’s illness, leaving her on the brink of life and death?

– Precisely, Your Honor. The “Babylon Reborn” company poses a threat to society by marketing a mass-use product insufficiently tested for human compatibility. My client seeks to halt the distribution of the so-called ‘calculator’ and verify its quality.

The judge nodded, adjusted his glasses, and turned to Timur.

– What can you say in defense of the company?

Timur stood.

– Your Honor, I apologize for my boss, Lisandro Frankenberg. He’s absent due to poor health.

– Are you aware a second no-show carries criminal liability? – the judge asked.

– Yes, Your Honor, he’s been informed. Allow me to represent him and present motions in the company’s defense, – he handed a folder to the bailiff.

The judge wiped his glasses and reviewed the documents.

– Hepatitis C, severe drug addiction, promiscuity, – he muttered. – As a doctor, what’s your response?

– Marina has an acute, rapidly progressing blood infection and furunculosis caused by postpartum complications, depression, and a weakened immune system. Her case isn’t unique but isn’t due to chip incompatibility. The ISRNK calculator has been repeatedly vetted by security services and needs no further checks. However, Your Honor, if you order additional testing, it will be done immediately. Claims of inadequate testing are false, as the ISRNK received FSB quality certification three years ago. Accusing the company of abusing its reputation is slander.

The judge nodded, scratching his chin.

– Why are you so sure Marina’s illness isn’t caused by the calculator?

Timur cleared his throat.

– Your Honor, I have proof the chip was tested on many before market release, under strict oversight by security services and a UN committee. The first person connected was the defendant, Lisandro Frankenberg, creator of ‘Babylon Reborn,’ in 2000. He’s fine today.

– Why haven’t you connected? – the judge asked.

– It’s not network marketing; the company doesn’t provide free products to employees. I’ll connect to ‘Babylon’ once prices drop.

– Yes, it’s pricey now, – the judge agreed. – When will prices drop?

– When the state treasury is full, Your Honor. It’s a domino effect: the best goes to the first, then the rest. Cell phones were once exorbitant; now they’re for everyone. ‘Babylon Reborn’ isn’t commercial—90% of profits are state taxes. Your Honor, it’s primarily a state branding tool, not a developing company in the traditional sense.

– Why tell me this? – the judge asked, cleaning his glasses.

– To clarify the company’s operations and avoid repeated questions. Lisandro Frankenberg will attend the next hearing with further motions. I’m done.

– Very well, please sit, – the judge said to Timur, then turned to Igor. – What drives you, Igor?

Igor stood.

– I just don’t want others to suffer like Mari because of someone’s mistakes.

– You may sit, – the judge said, then addressed Timur. – I read the contract with Marina and don’t understand one clause. Why does a company like yours ask about people’s faith before signing?

– Your Honor, it’s well-known the ISRNK chip is placed on the right hand or forehead, conserving and recharging energy like a battery. This aligns word-for-word with the Book of Revelation, or John’s prophecy: ‘And he causes all, both small and great, rich and poor, to receive a mark on their right hand or forehead, so that no one can buy or sell unless they have the mark.’ Applying this, one might absurdly conclude my boss is the Antichrist. Who needs that reputation? That’s why the contract includes this clause. We don’t impose anything against people’s will, especially atheistic views on believers, as it could offend their feelings or convictions.

The judge, puzzled, turned to Igor.

– Do you agree? Do you believe Scripture is true?

– Yes, Your Honor, I do. Not because I’m Orthodox, Catholic, or, worse, a Jehovah’s Witness! I’m not a cultist, but I believe what I see. I can’t help but ask: ‘Is this true?’ If not for these coincidences, I wouldn’t dare sue, but I know I’m right. It matches word-for-word! Even the sores: ‘And loathsome, malignant sores broke out on those who worshiped the beast and its image.’ It’s exactly what I’m experiencing. Can’t you see what’s happening before our eyes?

The judge smiled.

– I see you’re fixated on this. Not surprising after your shock. I’ll consider your words. The case is adjourned until tomorrow. The owner of ‘Babylon Reborn’ will attend, and we’ll see if he’s godless or just a man. Court is dismissed.

Everyone stood, including Igor. He knew he should visit Mari, but without results, he couldn’t face her. So, he went to the bar, spending the night there.

That night, Mari couldn’t sleep, asking doctors about Igor while he sat alone at the bar, thinking about the next hearing. His thirst for revenge nearly made him forget his wife, waiting in the hospital, unvisited for a week.

* Lisandro Frankenberg was ready for court, unafraid of what awaited.

Chapter 19. Hush, Hush…

“In your uncleanness is lewdness; because I have cleansed you, and you were not cleansed, you shall not be cleansed anymore from your uncleanness, till I have satisfied my fury upon you.”
Ezekiel 24:13

Marina couldn’t sleep. She called for Igor, threw tantrums, and criticized the doctors’ work. She felt he wouldn’t come to her, so she decided to go to him. The doctors didn’t want to release her, but they couldn’t refuse. An ambulance took her home, and she was wheeled to the door in a rocking chair. Before entering, Mari asked to be left alone. The doctors left. She opened the door and searched for her husband.

– Igor? – she called, but there was no answer. – Igor…

Gripping the wheelchair’s rims, she struggled to the kitchen, opened the fridge, poured a glass of wine, took a sip, and sobbed.

In the courtroom, Igor burned with vengeance, not grasping that no one was to blame for his misfortunes. He awaited the judge’s verdict, blindly convinced of his righteousness. His lawyer encouraged him, believing they could win and force the company to halt operations.

Lisandro appeared in court, brimming with confidence.

– Lisandro Frankenberg, – the judge addressed him.

– Yes, Your Honor.

– At the last hearing, your colleague stated the calculator was installed in many before Marina Solovyova, without causing illness. I’d like to see those people.

– Your Honor, I’ve been connected to the calculator for ten years and am perfectly healthy. In fact, my health has improved. Ms. Solovyova’s case is unrelated to our company, as it lacks any supporting evidence. No one has ever suffered from it. It’s not a weapon of mass destruction, – Lisandro handed the judge a list of prior “Babylon Reborn” participants, marked “CLASSIFIED” in the top right corner.

Studying Lisandro, the judge couldn’t discern his features. He removed his glasses, wiping them.

– May I sit? – Lisandro asked.

– Yes, yes, sit, – the judge muttered, putting his glasses back on. Lisandro was now farther away, harder to see, and calling him closer felt awkward, so the judge briefly reviewed the new materials, unsatisfied with his curiosity.

– Very well, – he sighed after a five-minute pause. – Igor Solovyov, what else do you have against ‘Babylon Reborn’? Your evidence is insufficient and circumstantial.

– But Your Honor! – Igor stood. – Don’t you see what’s happening? This man, – he paused, unsure how to continue.

– This man what? – the judge prompted.

The trial was nearing its end. Igor sensed these moments were part of a new history, one called the last days. Gathering courage, he addressed the judge:

– Your Honor, I know I’m losing this case. I also understand our talks are recorded. Allow me to speak to you as a person and ask the most important question.

After a brief silence, the judge removed his glasses, wiping the lenses.

– I think this isn’t the time. You want to ask if I believe in God? – Igor nodded. – Ha-ha-ha, – the judge laughed. – It’s not a courtroom topic, but I’ll answer out of sympathy, as one man to another, having lost loved ones too. I believe in the Creator of Heaven and Earth. I believe nothing happens without reason, and nothing is born without cause. The Big Bang itself proves that to me. I believe everything has a purpose. Darwin’s reason doesn’t hold—experiments never turned a monkey into a man, nor any creature into another species. It’s no surprise Darwin abandoned his theory; it was always just a hypothesis, never truth. So, I believe in God, but I don’t understand why Jesus Christ, supposedly born of a virgin, knew the truth but stayed silent at his trial. Why not reveal it when he could? Can you answer?

Igor was silent.

– See, you’re silent too, because there’s nothing to say. He knew no truth to share, couldn’t change anything then, and can’t now. You don’t know any truth either and can’t change anything. Your accusations against ‘Babylon Reborn’ stem from helplessness against overwhelming misfortune. Igor, I genuinely pity you, but no one’s at fault here. You lack direct evidence, wasting your time and mine, for which you alone are responsible. Don’t waste it here. If you love your wife, go home and spend her remaining days with her. If you catch religious fanaticism and keep pursuing your opponents, such actions against ‘Babylon Reborn’ will face legal consequences under Russian law. That’s all! The case is closed.

The gavel struck. Igor bowed his head. His lawyer walked him out, talking, but Igor, lost in thought, heard nothing. Stunned by the outcome, his blind faith in justice hadn’t won but clouded his vision. He left the courthouse, numb as a stone, heading toward the hospital. The trial was over; he was no liberator and had achieved nothing. Outside, his lawyer shook his hand and left, leaving Igor alone with his grief.

The gavel’s echo and the judge’s words, “The case is closed,” rang in his head. Street noise felt distant. Unsure where to go, he stepped onto the road. A car horn snapped him back, and he jumped aside as a car sped by, inches away. The driver, within his rights, had no intention of stopping. Igor’s life hung by a thread.

– It’s not my time to die, – he said, recalling Mari and his promise to her.

He walked to the parking lot, got in his car, and drove to the hospital. Parking near the building, he hurried to Mari’s room. A nurse stopped him at the checkpoint.

– Igor! – He turned. – Your wife left this morning.

Igor froze.

– What? Where?

– Home. She refused medical support, said she didn’t need help!

– How could you let her go in that condition! – he shouted, startling the nurse.

– W-we couldn’t keep her! She’s a medic, knows the law, and has the right to refuse help, – she stammered, but Igor was already running out.

Descending the stairs, he met Mari’s doctor.

– Your wife… – the doctor started, but Igor, furious, knocked him aside, rushing out.

Behind the wheel, he sped home. The weather was cool, a light rain falling, and, true to Murphy’s law, he hit traffic. At first, he raged, smashing the horn button until it cracked, but after two hours, exhausted, he reflected on his actions.

What did he want from the trial? Salvation? To turn back time or vent his anger? He had countless questions but no answers. One thing was clear: he’d lost so much time. What would he say to her? “I came back with nothing! Sorry, I can’t help”? What could he say now, nearing home, standing at the threshold, hesitant to enter? Through the window, he saw her leaning on a table to keep from falling, coughing. His eyes were empty yet pure, like a child’s, and he saw what he didn’t want to admit. “She’s sick and needs me more than ever! These might be her final hours, and I’m wandering somewhere far off. How could I be so cruel?”

Igor snapped out of a heroin-like haze; reality hit him. He opened the door and heard Mari’s cries:

– Igor! – she wailed. – Where are you, Igor? I love you! – She couldn’t see him, her vision blurred by swollen eyes.

He stared, realizing the vibrant, green-eyed, passionate Mari he longed for was gone. Before him was a woman ravaged by suffering. What drew him to her now? Honor? Duty? Passion? He felt ashamed to even think it! It was love—the love he’d stubbornly denied and refused to believe in. It was alive, so beautiful it defied description. He could no longer stand idle. Rushing to her, he lifted her, spun her around, and kissed her.

– Igor, stop! – she pleaded, but he kept spinning, laughing with the joy of his revelation.

– My love, – he confessed, – I was blind, I didn’t see you, and you were right here! Forgive me for everything: for being foolish, blind, deaf, – tears welled as they embraced, sobbing. – Forgive me for it all!

– I love you, – she repeated, – I love you!

– And I love you! – Igor said sincerely, finally meeting her now-yellow eyes, filled with pain, exhaustion, and weight.

– You need to rest; your body’s burning! I’ll get cold water and ice to cool you down. Don’t be afraid, I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you. Do you believe me?

Mari nodded, resting her head on his chest. He carried her to the bedroom, prepared water with ice, and gave her a sip. As she drank, watching him, she found strength to smile. He looked at her lips, once full and moist, warm and sweet with him. Now covered in sores, they didn’t deter him. Her stomatitis didn’t scare him, nor did her ulcerated body repulse him. Igor didn’t close his eyes; he embraced her sores with love. Their ugliness couldn’t withstand his love. He cherished every living part of her soul and flesh—everything about her was beautiful. He kissed her sore lips, caressed her neck, so tenderly that she seemed to come alive. He gently slid her sundress straps aside, touching her breast. Mari flinched in pain; her right breast was inflamed, like an electric shock.

– Hush, hush, – he whispered. – I won’t hurt you. I’ll be gentle until the end.

– You’ll listen and learn, and maybe we’ll stretch my time, – she whispered.

– I’ll do everything you command. You’re still my queen!

– You need to massage it lightly along the axis; maybe the inflammation will ease. It’ll hurt, but I’ll bear it. If it doesn’t, we’ll have to…

– It will! – he interrupted, kissing her nipple. – Just believe—it’s all we have left.

She smiled through the pain.

– Igor! I believe and trust you, no one else!

He supported her breast, massaging along the axis, kissing and stroking her nipple. She ran her right hand through his hair. Her left, crippled by severe furunculosis, cramped painfully with the slightest movement.

Igor’s only hope now was love, the only thing that could prolong her life, even for a few seconds.

* That night, the judge couldn’t sleep, tormented by doubts about his decision. Had Igor not asked his question, he would’ve ordered further investigation of the ‘Babylon Reborn’ project. Now, he was troubled, unable to recall Lisandro Frankenberg’s face.

Chapter 20. Don’t, Don’t Speak…

“Last of all, the woman died.”
Luke 20:32

Two months later, despite the doctors’ prognosis, Marina was still alive. Igor’s love triumphed over her illnesses, but it couldn’t stop the inevitable. For every defeated sore, another emerged; the battle against her ailments was endless, yet the couple fought on, refusing to surrender.

Igor had changed. The tragedy made him wiser, older. He began to value time. He cared for his wife: changed her bedding, bathed her, read her favorite books. Mari cherished this, seeing how her husband had transformed, becoming loving and courageous by letting himself love her sincerely.

Long confined to her wheelchair, Mari had grown accustomed to it. Where it couldn’t go, Igor carried her. The dying woman’s mind swirled with questions.

She recalled the people who’d been part of her life. Reflecting on their fates, she concluded that those who truly valued life had once faced death. “Do you have to lose to gain?” she thought, gazing sadly at the sky, its stars barely visible to her weakened eyes. Bundled in warm clothes, she sat in her wheelchair. Igor stood behind, staring calmly upward.

– Igor, what was that?

– I don’t know myself, – he replied.

They fell silent for a moment.

– Tomorrow’s the anniversary of our meeting.

– I know, darling, I know.

The night sky was dotted with white specks.

– The Lion King is still relevant, and the lords of time still shine up there, – Igor whispered.

– Yes, but we don’t exist to them, – Marina replied.

– Why’s that?

– Because it takes millions of years for their light to reach us. We don’t know if they still shine, and they don’t know if we were ever born. So we don’t exist to them, nor they to us. Yet the image before my eyes says otherwise, and we can’t deny each other’s existence. We just weave stories about what we’ve seen, heard, known, had, lost, and gained throughout a lifetime—mine, yours, our whole generation’s. Someone up there is writing a book about it, about a generation of earthlings, while those earthlings gaze at a sky they deem meaningless, knowing neither its end nor its beginning.

– Amen, – Igor nodded, tilting his head back to the heavens.

Marina didn’t see the sky as distant but as deep, hiding a mystery she could never reach. Her eyes teared, refusing to heal; her cracked lips, exhaling cold vapor, sprouted herpes at the corners. Her immune system had collapsed, useless against stomatitis and swollen, bleeding gums. She’d grown used to the relentless pain, trying to ignore it. Her body, saturated with diseased, rotting blood, screamed in agony, urging her to sing to forget it. But the song couldn’t be joyful, reflecting the grim human condition.

Marina sang:

All that was is gone. Wasn’t, isn’t now. Layers soaked through, words decayed…

Like everyone else…

Igor joined in, picking up the tune:

Like everyone else, like everyone else…

As Igor sang, Mari was seized by a coughing fit.

Worn-out shoes hold years and cigarette butts, washed-out pockets hold passports and fingers…

Like eve…

Marina collapsed from the wheelchair, sobbing. Igor dropped to his knees, lifted her, and carried her inside. She wept uncontrollably, descending into hysteria, screaming something inhuman:

– U-a-a-a-a, Gho-zhe, Gho-zhe, gho, ho, hnoy…

She was delirious, hallucinations flashing before her eyes. Igor laid her on the bed, ran for cold water, and called an ambulance.

– Ighor! Ighor! – she cried in her delirium, thrashing her head.

He rushed back, wiping her face and body with a wet towel. Marina sobbed endlessly, unable to bear the pain. She grasped something she needed to share with Igor. He watched, confused by the sudden fit. For two months, she’d been holding on, not quite recovering but fighting, and now her strength was gone.

– Ighor, Ighor, – she whispered, – don’t go, Ighor, it hurts so much, my love, – sweating and feverish, she gripped his hand tightly.

Igor’s heart felt like an egg about to hatch, cracking as the life within fought to break free. He trembled.

– I lohve you, Ighor, – she whispered, struggling to form each word, clinging to them like her last.

He struggled to breathe, air scarce, a hole forming in his heart’s shell. The ambulance siren wailed outside.

– I’ll open the door, – he said, squeezing her hand and kissing her. Descending the stairs, he heard Marina’s voice from above:

– Don’t go, – she whispered, heavy with pain, love, and pity.

Igor clutched his heart. For the first time, it stabbed like a seizure. He leaned against the wall, gripping the railing with both hands, his legs refusing to move. His heart pounded; each step down was a grueling trial, as if he were drowning in the stairs.

After the staircase, moving became easier. He opened the door, panting, and pointed upstairs. Two medics went up; a nurse stayed, seeing Igor’s state and offering an oxygen mask. They brought Marina down on a stretcher, tears in the young doctor’s eyes. The nurse beside him, grimacing at Marina’s stench, pulled on a mask. The doctor’s tears were from the acrid, unbearable odor. Igor wept, following Marina, whom he admired more than life itself. In that year, he’d loved her so much it washed away thirty years of what he’d thought was a worthless life.

The medics placed Marina on a stretcher in the ambulance. Igor sat across from her, breathing deeply to catch every second of her remaining life.

Marina breathed through a mask but didn’t sleep, gazing plaintively into his eyes. He held her hand tightly, pressing it to his cheek. It was no longer soft, dry, or warm but hot and slick with sweat. He kissed it, leaving a greasy, bloody trace. The nurse opposite nearly retched but tried to hide it. Igor paid her no mind.

The ambulance stopped. The nurse flung open the door and bolted to the side of the vehicle. Medics carried Marina out on the stretcher, tears streaming from her eyes. She feared death, berating herself for her sins.

In the ward, Igor sat close, as before. A doctor entered with a prepared syringe. Marina grabbed his hand with her last strength, shaking her head. The doctor looked at Igor, who nodded approvingly. The doctor understood and left, not returning.

Marina and Igor were alone, gazing into each other’s eyes. She gave a faint smile; he returned it, tears welling. Her right hand slowly, with immense effort, reached for the oxygen mask. She tried to pull it off but couldn’t. Igor lowered it so she could speak.

– I’m not s-suffocating yet, – she said, coughing.

– Hush, hush, – Igor whispered, unthinking.

Marina wept again. He held her hand tightly—it was her only sign he was still there. She could barely see; his face blurred into the room’s background. Sounds no longer reached her, only the pain of his hand in hers. It hurt to hold on, but she did, overcoming it, terrified of being alone. “Is this it? No hope left? What awaits me? God, I can’t even hope for better! What if it’s worse?”

Marina screamed. Igor’s heart stabbed again, more cracks forming in its shell, feathers visible to the naked eye. He began to mourn. Marina thrashed her head, questioning: “How can this be?! What if… It’s really happening… Can it get worse? NO! NO! NO! There’s faith! I believe it’ll be better. I believe! I BELIEVE! I lied…” She turned to her husband, speaking though she couldn’t hear his reply.

– Ighor, I s-said I didn’t b-believe… – she coughed violently. Igor held her head, helping her spit out lymph-colored blood, repulsive and lifeless.

– Don’t, don’t speak, – he tried to stop her, unaware she was deaf.

– And n-now I re-pent my un-unbelief, – she gasped heavily. He offered the mask, but she spat into it. – Kn-know why this h-happened to me? – She paused briefly. – I lied. I LIED! – She thought she was shouting; Igor barely heard. He lifted her, pressing her to his chest. – I BELIEVE!!! BELIEVE!! BELIEVE! BELIEVE! – she moaned, wailing. With each cry, her remaining life drained, her body growing colder.

– Believe, believe, bel… – she didn’t finish, decaying in his arms, hanging lifeless.

The shell broke, the chick hatched, shrieking in an unknown tongue. The hospital heard his inhuman wails as he mourned his queen—

Queen

    of Seven

        Hills.

Epilogue

Evening. Arkady and Alexander were finishing the last of their wine, continuing their conversation.

– Arkady, – Alexander addressed the athlete, – what would you say to someone who asks, ‘Who are you?’

– Tough question, – Arkady mused. – Say ‘human,’ and they’ll call it your species. Say ‘carpenter,’ that’s your job. Say ‘Nastya,’ that’s a name. A soul in a body! That just confuses things more. What is light, and is the soul material? Some say it’s immaterial; others, citing electric current, claim otherwise.

– Of course, who’d outright admit they’re a prideful fool? No one would confirm it.

– Exactly… A fool and proud! Why does he need a car, phone, house, family, kids, when he, his family, and all his works are dead? Would a man on his deathbed, in a fever, ask for a car, house, money, food? He’d ask for nothing but forgiveness. And if he seeks forgiveness, that’s the main reason he lived.

– So, you’re saying man lives to repent?

– Yes, that’s it. But as long as he’s alive, sin lives in him too. He loves it and won’t give it up cheaply.

– And where’s God looking?

– Where? That question doesn’t apply to Him!

– Doesn’t apply, you say? Your God’s just as foolish and proud as the people He made in His image. Through creation, He escapes loneliness, and you still serve Him! Think hard—worth continuing?

Arkady stood abruptly, eyes blazing with anger, but he calmed, recalling his mission.

– You’re the image of this world! A lonely fool and proud, they try to emulate you, and you dare shift blame to God, – Alexander stared into his glass, unmoved. – He who is perfect and triune. Being triune, He knows no loneliness and fills the world with love.

Alexander smirked, gazing at the river.

– I’m going, Alexander. He said…

– I know what He said, – Alexander replied dismissively, still avoiding Arkady’s eyes.

– I’ll pray for you, – Arkady said warmly.

– Just go! – Alexander snapped.

The athlete left, the door slamming behind him.

– Waiter! – the limping man called.

The waiter approached:

– What’ll it be?

– More wine. I’ll stick around a bit, – the limping man replied, sighing deeply and staring thoughtfully out the window…