Аннотация: Перевод моего рассказа "Энгэ" о разрушающих и спасающих реальность на английский.
Engé
Everything we are is the result of our thoughts.
(Buddha)
And the last will be first...
(Gospel)
On that fateful day, Pavel Efimtsev's hallucinator started acting up.
"Darling, it seems my modulator is out of order," said the tall, dark-haired man with vague features as he fiddled with the adjustment knob.
"What? Again? You just had it fixed a few days ago... It's no surprise, everything"s a mess with you," replied Pavel's wife, Victoria, a medium-height red-haired beauty and a star of glossy magazines.
"My dear, what am I guilty of? I didn"t cause myself a concussion."
"You were born with one," Victoria muttered as she sat down in front of the mirror and began to comb her luxurious long hair.
"Huh? What?" Pavel didn't hear and tugged at the adjustment knob again, which was under his arm. "Yep, it"s definitely malfunctioning. The contrast doesn't change, brightness control is impossible... And there"s some interference in my vision."
"What kind of interference?"
"I don't know... Everything looks gray and hopeless-it"s like someone poured dark paint over the world."
"Somewhere he learned to be metaphorical," Victoria thought, twisting her lips. "But then again, he has always been a bit "creative"-that is, detached from reality, unadapted. And it seems he still hasn"t realized that I"m leaving him..."
"Alright, I"ll contact the repairmen again," decided Pavel. He approached his wife and leaned down to kiss her, but she turned away. "Is something wrong, Vika?"
"I told you not to call me Vikusya-I"m not some stray provincial girl," she snapped while continuing to comb her hair. But the woman was being sly: she had come to Moscow City from a peripheral town whose name Pavel couldn"t pronounce. "Do you want me to be honest? Everything is wrong. You are wrong, this apartment is wrong, my whole life is wrong! That"s why I"m going to change it!"
"But how?"
"Oh God! How stupid can you be?"
"I'm leaving you." She tossed the comb onto the table and stood up.
Pavel was stunned-he hadn"t expected this.
"But... where to?"
"It doesn"t matter. You"ve always been indifferent, that"s why you"ve lost me in the end."
"Wait, darling, we still need to..."
"I"m no longer your "darling"! If you must know, I"m going to Max Filimonov. He has loved me for a long time and is waiting for me, while I waste my time and youth next to you-a person who won"t appreciate me. And those can never be returned."
"But..."
Victoria interrupted him again.
"We're not suitable for each other-no matter how clichéd that sounds. Who are you? Nobody. A small fry at some modulator manufacturing company. I am a well-known model. You lack the money or opportunity to support me the way I deserve. Do you understand?"
He didn't understand.
Victoria waved her hand, put on her boots, threw on a jacket, and left the apartment.
"Should I wait for you for dinner?" Pavel shouted after his wife.
"Idiot!" came the reply.
Surely the whole building heard that. Now there would be whispers and talks... They had long predicted their separation, though no one said it directly. But among Pavel's friends, conscientious individuals felt it was their duty to warn him. Including Max Filimonov...
Max! Old faithful friend... who took his wife!...
Pavel was in turmoil. He wanted to sit down, close his eyes and think everything through. But there was no time left-he had to go to work.
Max Filimonov, the head of a company that sold hallucinations, earned his position through blood and sweat. And, of course, he wasn"t going to give it to anyone else-that's why he fired all his friends from high positions and replaced them with strangers.
"Friendship creates competition within an individual"s world," Max would say. He didn"t need such competition.
Right now, the slim blue-eyed brunette with well-groomed nails was at home. He was quite worn out from yesterday: meetings, discussions, conversations, signing papers, more meetings... and so on in circles. Actually, almost every day of his life was as busy. So once a week Max would take a day off to relax peacefully, sipping whiskey while lying on the sofa and watching holograph television.
It was during this pastime that he was interrupted by a call in the background.
"Hello," Max drawled in a voice that clearly reflected annoyance and irritation.
"Hello. Hi! This is Pavel Efimtsev."
"Now this is the last person I needed to hear from," the businessman thought, grimacing.
A school friend. Childless husband. A loser-in life, at work, and in bed. Owner of a wonderful, delightful, unique wife, whom he couldn't keep. Max had pursued Vika for several years and finally struck gold. At the moment when her tense relationship with Pavel reached breaking point, a wealthy, handsome, and charming man was right there to support her-and gifted her a night of unforgettable love. It was then that Victoria realized she had made the wrong choice between the two friends back in high school. But now everything had changed... Max had changed too; he wasn't just going to stand by like Pavel. No, he was the head, the leader, the chief. If he didn"t realize this, he"d never achieve the heights from which he viewed the world today.
"Pash, I don"t have much time," Max said without blinking, lying effortlessly. He spoke casually and reluctantly. "What do you need?"
"Is Vika with you?" Pavel asked worriedly.
"No. But she will be soon. And anyway, it"s none of your business."
"How is it not my business? I"m her husband!... "
"Ex-husband."
"We haven"t divorced yet..."
"That"s just a matter of time... Oh, sorry, I have another call coming in on the second line," Max lied again and hung up.
So he called to sort things out? Probably the last bears in the sparse forests of Earth succumbed to extinction. Max smirked. Or was he just worried about Vika? In fact, it was already nearly eleven, and she still hadn"t returned. Something must have happened to her...
Trying not to think about that, Max leaned back against the couch, sipped his whiskey, and fell back into the world that the hallucinator so kindly "painted" for him. In that world, orange tones prevailed, cybernetics had advanced to unbelievable heights-Max's hands and penis were replaced with artificial ones because the natural ones weren"t reliable enough. Also, people there had wings and flew over the city, high in the sky, like birds. The greenhouse effect spoiled the nearly idyllic picture, but scientists promised to solve it soon. And Max believed them-after all, it was 2165.
In 2043, Victoria Dobrovolskaya's life was far less cloudless. To start with, medications that everyone had to take if they wanted to survive in the changed climate kept increasing in price. Humanity invented new ways of generating energy but didn"t think about the consequences. Emissions into the atmosphere became deadly for many animals. Just like in some science fiction novel, ersatz creatures replaced them. The air was contaminated. To survive, people initially wore protective clothing, and later invented special pills. Red, long, and flat-each morning, Victoria started with its intake. She was affluent enough to regularly buy the "x" preparation-as the pills were called-while some people still walked around in helmets and protective suits. Vika felt a mix of pity and disdain towards them.
Her high heels clacked on the asphalt. The sun-a hot orange-yellow ball-blazed in the blue sky. Residents streamed out of fifty-story buildings, hopped into aerodynamic cars, and shot off into the clouds. Someone sped past on aerial skates, making Victoria flinch and glare disapprovingly at the teenager. At that moment, something jabbed painfully in her back.
"What are you doing!" She turned to look, but an unknown object jabbed sharply into her spine again.
"Quiet. Keep looking ahead," a dry, cracked voice hissed. "This is an electric gun. If you want to live, shut up and go where I tell you."
Inside her, everything froze, her legs went weak, and her throat dried up. She had never been so scared before.
"Alright, I"ll do whatever you say," Victoria managed to whisper, "just don"t shoot."
"Head to the shopping center," commanded the stranger-apparently, it was a man.
Vika couldn"t believe what was happening. Her mind stalled somewhere between truth and fiction. Still, she walked in the direction he indicated. The whole world seemed to grow soft and unnatural, and only the clicking of her heels pierced through that wall of sound, reverberating: it"s real-it"s real-it"s real...
Pavel sat in front of his computer, squirming in his chair. He couldn"t shake off the scene of parting with his wife. His head was filled with various, conflicting thoughts. He dialed his wife's number multiple times, but she wouldn"t pick up. Didn"t want to talk to him? Or had something happened to her? How could he find out?...
Once again, Pavel tried to detach himself from all problems and worries, sat straight, and tried to think. In his world of 2124, they had long invented a keyboard that responded to mental waves. But to type on it, one had to focus and scroll phrases in their mind. And Pavel could only think about Victoria...
He looked at the screen.
"Vika... Where did she go... Why did she leave? It's my fault!.. I need to find her!!..."
He hurriedly erased that "creativity," then glanced around: no one, as usual, paid any attention to him. A full office of people with indifferent eyes.
Still, the thoughts displayed on the monitor drove him to make a decision. Before, perhaps, he would never have dared ask for time off from work-but before his wife hadn"t left him.
Pavel approached the young petite Sveta, the secretary, and said that he urgently needed to see Evgeniya Vladimirovna.
"Efimtsev is here," Sveta said, contacting her boss via intercom.
"What does he need?"
"I don"t know."
A short pause followed.
"Okay, let him in-but only for a minute."
"Thank you." Pavel nodded gratefully and entered the office.
Evgeniya Romanova-a tall, stately, striking woman-Director of the company "Gluk & Co," turned upon hearing the sound and looked at her employee with a blend of pity and disdain. In her world-a world of wealth and luxury ruled by oligarchs where everything was measured by the size of an individual"s gold reserve-there was no place for losers like Efimtsev.
"You see, Ms. Romanova..." Pavel started but hesitated.
"Yes, I"m listening, Mr. Efimtsev," she urged him on.
"You see... I"m in a situation: my wife... she, in general... she left for someone else," continued Pavel. "But that"s not even it. Vika... she"s gone. I called her on the phone, but she won"t answer. I fear something happened to her..."
"Understood," Evgeniya said with a well-articulated, commanding voice.
"Could you... let me go? I"ll make up for it, I certainly will!"
"In this month..."
"Of course, in this month!"
"Don"t interrupt. For the entire next week, you will stay late after work for three hours. Are you okay with that?"
Without hesitation, Pavel answered:
"Yes, of course. Thank you very much!"
He stood uncertainly. And only when the boss said, "You can go," and turned away, did he awkwardly bow his head and rush out the door.
The holographic TV was showing advertisements. With a presence effect, these commercials looked even worse.
"...Order a real hallucinator with all the setup functions for your future child. The 'smart' security system will protect the remote buttons from accidental pressing. The alarm will notify you of the state of your baby. Moreover, the new g-modulator includes features such as temperature measurement, pain analysis of any origin, detection of injuries and wounds. The device comes equipped with a mini-phone, allowing easy contact with a doctor or advisor from our hotline if necessary. We remind you that all hallucinations from 'Gluk & Co' are insured. Maintenance is free for the first three years. 'Gluk & Co'-your reliable beacon in a dark world..."
"Yes, yes, yes," Max said irritably. "We know all that: our modulators are the best... Order right now and get a gift..." He used a mental effort to turn off the holograph TV.
"Hallucinators are your children"s future!" suddenly boomed a loud computerized voice from outside. "Humanity destroyed its own world. The Third World War not only devastated the planet but also faith in the future. It stripped us and our children of all prospects and opportunities, including the most important one-the chance to live..."
"May you rot!" Max rose from the couch and walked to the window. On the way, he listened to the ad for g-modulators that had become a nuisance:
"...But 'Gluk & Co' gives newborns a new destiny. A destiny they deserve. A destiny without war, without radioactive fallout, without clouds of smoke and ash, without deaths and sorrow! Acquire our hallucinations, and the fate of our ancestors will no longer hang over our people! 'Gluk & Co'..."
"... it's easy with us!" Max mimicked, shutting the window. Only then did he remember that this year he installed voice sensors on the windows, so he could simply have commanded: "Close." The man swore and went back to the couch when the doorbell rang. "What the hell! Can"t a man get some rest?"
There was a monitor embedded in the wall near the door. On it, with great displeasure, Max saw Pavel, nervously shifting from foot to foot and looking around.
"What does this neurotic want again?"
"Who is it?" the businessman asked, not opening the door.
"Max, it's me, Pavel! Let me in!"
"What do you want, Pash?"
"Open, it's important! It concerns Vika!"
"And what does it concern?"
"She isn't answering her calls."
"Not surprising. How could she stand him all this time?"
"She just doesn"t want to talk to you. And excuse me, I have to go..."
"But, Max..."
"Pasha, don't you get it? Go away."
The entrepreneur listened in silence-no sound: Pavel was silent. Satisfied, Max was about to step away from the door, but it turned out that his friend was merely gathering his strength.
"Max, open immediately, or I"ll break down the door!"
The owner of the apartment smirked, but then Pavel, standing in the corridor, pounded on the door so forcefully that Max's grin turned into a discontented frown.
"Open," he commanded.
The door, responding to the owner's voice, swung open. Pavel, bursting inside, failed to maintain his balance and tumbled to the floor. Max picked him up and grabbed him by the chest.
"What do you think you're doing?" the beautifully manicured man hissed.
"Vika... don"t you understand... something might have happened to her..."
"Something happened to her years ago because of you. But now everything's fine. She"s free from you and can finally live the life she deserves."
"But, Max..."
"Forget her. Do you understand?"
The businessman released his grip on his friend, but as soon as he did, Pavel lunged at him, fists flying. Max then turned around and punched Efimtsev in the face. Pavel fell again, this time hitting his head against the wall. He stared at his former friend in confusion. Blood streamed from the nose of the defeated man.
Max winced in pain and shook his arm in the air. Then he went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and tossed it to Pavel.
"I can't spare you a 'handy doctor,' sorry, I need it myself. Now get out."
Pavel got to his feet, clutching the towel to his chest.
"Wipe yourself there. Come on, clear out." But that wasn"t enough for him, and Max added, silently following the retreating Pavel: "And don"t mention her again, got it? She doesn"t exist for you anymore!"