The Place Where

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The Place Where Page 37

by Rodion Pretis


  I'll tell you honestly - you can hardly expect to do without self-mutilation, while the government allows hired policemen to carry weapons. Business is business, it is necessary to somehow cover the costs, so the easiest way is to hire people who bring their own tool: loser loners and fanatics who agree to work two shifts in a row for the price of a tin of beans per hour , in the hope that when - maybe they, maybe - only maybe - they can shoot rocket-propelled grenades (for which they paid from their pocket) at some burglar or burglar.

  The window of the main bedroom in the Roberts' house briefly flashes an orange flame, then the glass shatters into millions of beautiful crystal fragments.

  Curtains toss after them and clap in the wind. Only then does a noise rise - quite loud.

  - Drop your weapon! Right now! - one of the police dummies is yelling from somewhere outside my field of vision. Jezzer turns the rifle and answers him in line.

  He empties the entire store. Bullets with a bang and deafening howl bounce off a stone wall nearby.

  He charges another grenade and shoots at the ground floor window in Wayne's house.

  I let Jesus into my heart; I pray, really pray, for the first time since my mother explained to me that Jesus and Santa Claus are two different people, so that Mo, the children and their parents would be somewhere outside.

  And Freddie Mercury is getting prettily in the car - this time something is heard about the fact that he “just killed a man, mother” ...

  The hubbub is getting louder. Jezzer lifted the whole village to his feet, and now screams and groans are heard from all sides.

  He charges a new grenade and shoots somewhere along the lawn. I can't see where he got, but the explosion is heard very nearby.

  There is an agonizing creak and a crunching blow of something heavy on the ground.

  Jezzer cracked down on an old mighty oak tree, the pride of Hinton Lee.

  For a while nothing happens.

  Then we see that some resourceful member of the community Did At least Something. A “hard worker” appears on the side track - a home robot with a joyfully smiling, friendly expression of willingness to help with a face drawn in front on the top panel. His hands, accustomed to holding the nozzle of the vacuum cleaner and the floor brush, squeeze a large shotgun.

  Its owner must be using a radio remote control, but that doesn't help him much. A well-aimed grenade from a grenade launcher on a Jezzer's rifle turns the Helpful Henry into a cloud of spare parts.

  The joyful face of the "hard worker" slams to the ground a few feet from mine.

  What was the name of this old movie, where in the end two Americans are surrounded by the entire Bolivian army? Here's something like this: all of a sudden, at the three ends of the lawn, several dozen people are found shooting at Jezzer; they are joined by more and more new.

  A handful of men, as well as several women rise to battle, as strong yeomen in the old days rose to defend the city. They form a detachment armed with shotguns, and personal pistols, and small-caliber rifles, and even air rifles. They hide behind the walls of the garden and other covers so that you can shoot at Jezzer's as much as you like.

  Until now, I have been worried about Mo and Roberts' households; now I am also starting to feel anxiety about myself. The sky above me is full of flying shells, and I can't even slam my eyelashes to give a sign that I need help, not to mention crawling to a safe place. I suppose if anyone noticed that I was lying here, he considered me dead.

  Freddie Mercury assures us that he and his friends will show us where the crayfish hibernate. [61]

  Hinton Lee's local militia detachment doesn't have good shooters - most shotgun owners only occasionally use them to shoot skeet, and those with guns shoot from too far a distance.

  So Jezzer continues to show off in front of everyone and without interference produces four more grenades in various directions.

  It only arouses his tormentors, forcing them to redouble their efforts.

  Small-caliber rifles turn his "Lada" into a pile of scrap metal.

  Only when Freddy is finally silent, does Jezzer begin to realize that he is in a hostile environment. He steps back and disappears behind a wall enclosing Wayne's garden.

  A bullet buries in the ground in front of me. Then another. Then one more, and I can swear that it hurts the tip of my nose.

  I am moving. There was someone brave who was dragging me to a more or less safe place - to a nearby garden.

  - Are you okay? - says the voice that I love more than anything. Mo's face appears in front of mine.

  I cant answer.

  - Oh my God! She says, speaking to someone next to her.

  “He must be injured!” Where does it hurt? You must have been paralyzed, my love ... Oh! Paralyzed! Yeah. Well, then that's okay. Jezzer just immobilized him ... Brian, honey, I have to leave you here for a minute, we need to bring the children out. I'll be back to you in just a few minutes ...

  Someone on the far side of the lawn yells, suggesting Jezzer give up before anyone is seriously hurt.

  Jazzer protrudes from the bushes and releases another grenade.

  He was in no hurry to immediately dive back into cover. For some time he stood in front of everyone, resting his rifle butt on his thigh and contemptuously scrutinizing the assembled inhabitants.

  Although he is an easy target, everyone stops shooting. Maybe he impressed them, or they want to first enjoy the moment before shooting him like a mad dog. I am absolutely sure that for most of these people, everything that happens is just a game. Perhaps somewhere in the village there are people who are really worried or scared - but for those who went out tonight to have fun, the idea that rifles and grenades could be mutilated or killed did not come to mind. They saw too many films to know: good guys always stay alive.

  Suddenly I feel pain.

  I can move again.

  Slowly, carefully, I kneel down.

  Jezzer raises the remote control in his outstretched hand.

  - Brian, where are you? No hostage of you, but apart from you, I have nothing. Come here! Go to Uncle Jeremy!

  I'm not against. Maybe I can persuade him to stop going mad. I climb to all fours and wave my arms in the air to show everyone where I am.

  Someone near me is shooting at Jezzer.

  The remote control in his raised hand shatters into dust like a plate for shooting.

  He looks at his hand where the remote control has just been and shakes his head in surprise.

  I don't need a better opportunity. Like a reed cat, I jump over the garden fence with all fours and land on Jezzer before he can point his cannon at me.

  I will bring it to the earth. He is larger than me, he is more solidly built and more insane than I - however, I am furious to the fullest, and his brains drugged with drugs must seem to be the Lord of Darkness himself. Therefore, not even a few moments pass, as he already squeals beneath me, seized by existential despair, because he thinks that Satan himself came for him and will now kick him in the balls until the end of time.

  All the inhabitants were in favor of hanging it on the wreckage of an old oak - alas, there were not enough high branches left there. And then a helicopter brigade arrived and rescued him.

  The villagers had several bruises and scratches, many rang in their ears, but there were no serious injuries. Hinton Lee gave me a celebration as the hero of the day - although it was easy to see that many of them were slightly disappointed that the drama had not reached its proper conclusion.

  One would think that they would feel grateful to me to apply for my early release or at least a few months of leave on parole. There it was. Honest and noble people do not live in places like Hinton Lee.

  The trial did not last long. I still pulled Jeronimus out of the garden and took his virtual suit, so everyone decided that he just swallowed some of the wrong pills and was sentenced to life sentence. However, bickering over who owns Jezzer and his property was a completely different matter.

  The judge m
ade very elaborate calculations regarding all the people whom Jezzer had harmed. It turned out that a large chunk of Jezzer should go to Wayne Roberts and another chunk - Hinton Lee as a whole. Other residents who have suffered damage, or whose property has been damaged, have won smaller servings.

  Hundreds of people said that his actions were so stressful for them that they were forced to take tranquilizers or consult a psychiatrist, and on this basis they demanded a piece of Jezzer or his property. At the same time, Natasha filed for divorce, claiming half of his possessions.

  While lawyers argue with each other, Jezzer and I remain assigned to Hinton Lee and submit to the village council. I do not know who the official remote control is, but I have not seen the remote control since that evening.

  Jezzer sleeps in the attic of a parish hostel.

  Mo and I share Wayne's camper van.

  Wayne has not shown much enthusiasm about this and is still afraid for the suspension of the van. But Mo, face to face, explained to him how complicated it could be if she told the police what role she played in Jezzer's dismissal. Wayne may lose his wonderful new high-paying job (the same one that Jezzer used to be) - and besides, it could mean that Jezzer's case will have to be reviewed, and then ...

  Wayne saw the wisdom behind her words, and graciously yielded. That night, which we call our “first wedding,” he left half a bottle of Champagne “Good Buy” near our bed. See? A courtesy gesture doesn't have to be expensive, does it?

  Wayne understands that people should be treated humanly, even if they are attributed.

  We just finished sweeping the streets. Jezzerova really began to look a little cleaner.

  “I did a Pareto analysis here,” he said. - Of course, you should hardly expect that this will tell you a lot - but this is a very effective method in business that helps to allocate resources more productively. So, look at this diagram that I drew. You see, here you can see that candy wrappers are more often found on Elm Field, and in the park the concentration of cigarette butts is significantly increased - and, interestingly, it is cigarette but not cigar. Cigar butts are distributed more randomly, although, as a rule, they are localized ...

  “Jezzer,” I said (we are now in a much more familiar relationship), “stop grinding the bullshit.”

  - Well, in a word, I have compiled these profiles for us so that we can record the distribution of garbage by location, time of day and time of year. As you can see, I have already hammered them into a computer, so all we have to do is get a spreadsheet and a database to optimize our work ...

  I went away. Mo was waiting for me, sitting on the garden wall.

  Everything is still wrong - that we are still here. But thanks to Mo, this can be tolerated. Someday we will get out of here. And we will win.

  Robert Silverberg

  Amanda and the alien

  Amanda spotted an alien on Friday late at night, next to the South Maine Video Center. He tried to look calm and cold-blooded, but it was evident that he was baffled and nervous, it was simply striking.

  The alien was disguised as a seventeen-year-old girl, Mexican or Chican [62], with olive skin and so dark hair that they seemed almost blue - but Amanda, who herself was seventeen, recognized the fake at first sight. For some time, she examined the alien from the other side of the street to be absolutely sure, then switched to that side.

  “We must not,” said Amanda. “Any person who has at least one and a half convolutions will be able to say who you are.”

  “Fuck off,” the alien answered.

  - No, you listen! Do you want to stay away from the camp or not?

  The alien coldly examined Amanda from top to bottom and said:

  “I don't know what nonsense you're talking about.”

  “You know very well!” There is no point trying to outwit me. Listen, I want to help you, ”said Amanda. “I think you were treated unfairly.” Do you even know what this means - "fair"? So, let's go to my house and I'll tell you something about how you can pass for a man. I still have a damn weekend ahead, but nothing to do.

  A spark of interest appeared in the imaginary girl's dark, inhospitable eyes, but immediately faded. The alien said:

  - Are you crazy?

  “Well, do as you know, O guest from distant stars!” Let them lock you up again! Let them stick electrodes in your ass! I tried to help you, but I still can't do anything else - just try, ”said Amanda, shrugging her shoulders.

  She slowly walked away. Without looking back. Three steps, four, five - hands in pockets, slow walk, heading for his car.

  Maybe she was wrong? No! No! She could have been wrong about other things - for example, how much Charlie Taylor wants to spend the weekend with her - but that's not the point. This chick with curled hair could be nothing but a runaway alien.

  The whole district was buzzing about this: the deadly inhuman form of life disappeared from the internment camp at Tracy and could now be anywhere - in Walnut Creek, in Livermore, even in San Francisco. A terrible monster that can imitate any human appearance: gobble up and digest you, and disguise yourself under your shell. And here he is, please, Amanda did not doubt it: it was the alien who is calmly standing now in front of the Video Center! She continued to walk forward.

  - Hey wait! The alien finally called out.

  Amanda took a couple more independent steps, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.

  - What?

  “How could you guess?”

  Amanda grinned.

  - It's easy. You are wearing a raincoat, and now it's only September. The rainy season here begins only in a month or two. Your trousers are junk, Spandex; even people like you no longer wear this shit. You have makeup in the colors of San Jose, and the blush is imposed as they do in Berkeley. These are three things that I noticed right away, but I could find a lot of others. You have nothing to do with everything else. It's like you made a test to see how you should look, and took a little from everywhere. The more I look at you, the more I see. Look, you have headphones, and even the indicator is on, but there is no cassette! What are you listening to, music of the spheres?This model, by the way, has no tuning to FM ... So you see - you might think that you disguised yourself just fine, but it's not.

  “I can destroy you,” said the alien.

  - What? Oh yes of course! Of course you can. Absorb me right here, in the middle of the street, in thirty seconds everything will be over, only a wet spot will remain at the door, and the new Amanda will go about his business. But then what? What will it give you good? You still won't know where the top is and where the bottom is. So to destroy me is illogical, unless you are a complete moron. I'm on your side, I'm not going to betray you!

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I've been talking to you for five minutes, and still haven't screamed or called the police.” Don't you know that half of California is looking for you? Listen, do you know how to read? Come here for a moment. Here, look. ”Amanda dragged the stranger to a newspaper machine by the sidewalk. The title of the evening “Exemener” read:

  THE GULF AREA IS COVERED BY HORROR BECAUSE OF THE RUNNING ALIEN

  MARINE JOINS NINE DISTRICT HUNTING

  MAYOR AND GOVERNOR WARN AGAINST PANIC

  - you understand? Amanda asked. - It's about you! They all climbed out, with their flamethrowers, syringes with a tranquilizer, hunting nets and God knows what else! We have had real hysteria for a day and a half - and you are standing here with your stupid make-up! Oh my god! Oh my god! What do you plan to do? Where were you going to go?

  “Home,” said the alien. “But first I have to come to the meeting place, where they should pick me up.”

  - Where is it?

  “Do you think I'm completely stupid?”

  - A curse! - swore Amanda. - Yes, if I was going to surrender you, I would have already done it five minutes ago! Well, okay, I don't give a damn about where your meeting place is. However, I tell you: if you walk around in such an outfit as you are now
, you won't get to San Francisco either. It's a miracle that they still haven't caught you!

  “Will you help me?”

  “I'm already trying.” Let's go. Let's get the hell out of here. I'll bring you to my home and tidy up a bit. My car is in the parking lot at the next intersection.

 

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