《Parallels》


 Prologue

    A series of explosions went through the floor. The contours were broken. The concrete floors, no longer supported by bonds, crumbled under the force of the following explosions. The frame of the skyscraper began to slowly take shape. The glass cracked. Super-strong, safety glass was not so strong in another plane and one after another began to burst.


    The sixth floor folded like a house of cards, carrying all eighty-nine floors with it. The violation of the contour went higher, the piles of the upper floors lost their support. Under the impact of the fall of almost the entire skyscraper, the first six folded like crumpled paper.


    The energy from the collision was enough to damage the contours of the upper part.


    The open airfield on the eighty-seventh floor hit the eighty-sixth. The weight of three floors was enough to break through to the eighty-fourth.


    A crowd had already gathered around. The Bureau''s guards began to arrive after the first explosion, and now the entire department was maintaining an external protective barrier, preventing fragments of the building from falling beyond the square of the skyscraper. Thanks to him, neither neighboring skyscrapers, nor roads, nor passers-by were in any way affected.


    Dorian sat in a restaurant on the seventy-seventh floor of a nearby building and looked at the mangled skyscraper. No matter how much he wanted to smile triumphantly now, there were too many guards, people and cameras around at the moment. Therefore, he put on a shocked-frightened expression and simply kept his video recording of the events outside the window.


    Everything worked out exactly as planned. He didn''t care about the surviving floors. What difference does it make that the glass in the central part was only broken in places and the frame bent by thirty percent? It''s not over yet. If the guards don¡¯t make it in time, the floors will continue to fold. Violation of the integrity of the ligaments will only grow.


    But the main task has already been completed - almost the symbol of the city has been successfully undermined. Now confidence in the Council will have to decline.


    Take out the screen, feign surprise, irritation, as if someone important is distracting you from an unprecedented spectacle, turn off and put the screen back. Dorian stood up. It was time to get out before the place got even more crowded.


    The collapse occurred at noon. The news all day was all about this. Lists of the dead, comments of the victims, expert assessment of the damage. On social media there were all sorts of conspiracy theories and heated discussions about today''s tragedy on the networks.


    It was already evening, and Dorian was lazily flipping through the news feed while sitting in Demian¡¯s living room. His and Estelle¡¯s house was in the final stages of construction, and without all the external protective barriers being installed on the territory, it was still not safe to be there alone. Gray lands, what to take from them...


    "Dorian!" The door swings wide open and hits the wall. Demen flies into the room with a frightened, angry face. "Why the hell did you do that, Dorian!?"


    Surprised, Dorian, in unison with the capsule flying outside the window, lowers the screen and turns to his friend.


    What''s wrong with him today?


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    "What''s the matter?" He asks without understanding, noting with bewilderment his unusually flushed face. His friend was an albino and had a very calm character; he never lost his temper around him. Dorian had never seen such redness on Demian¡¯s face.


    "Why. The fuck. Did. You. Choose that fucking building?" With difficulty restraining himself from screaming, Demian repeated every word, grabbing Dorian by the collar of his sweater.


    "What''s the matter?" He coughed, shrugging his shoulders. ¡°Yaari is already sacrificing his position and right to the Big Cities for the sake of our cause. We need to show them that they screwed up, that this composition of the Council is not capable of fulfilling its functions. You yourself suggested destroying some famous building.


    Demian''s face distorted into a grimace. He slowly unclenched his hands and sank limply to the floor. He grabbed his neck as if he began to choke and began to breathe heavily.


    It really was his idea. It was he who proposed to destroy the supporting structure of the first floor in order to bring down the entire skyscraper. He was the one who convinced their company that this would be the best solution. Himself.


    ¡°Sheryl said that he has a suitable person for the role of one of the new members of the Council,¡± Dorian said calmly, warily watching his friend. ¡°He will present a recovery plan, propose a new security system and everything will be fine.¡±


    The door to the next room opened. Estelle flew up to Dorian, yawning. With a gesture she pulled his screen towards her and added:


    "Demian, what''s the matter? Just don¡¯t say that you have become interested in someone other than your adored idol."


    Dorian turned away embarrassed. It¡¯s not that he didn¡¯t like being almost the only and definitely the main friend of Demian, but his wife¡¯s jokes on this topic had been going on for quite some time and, as always, were not very on topic.


    Wives. Dorian still couldn¡¯t get used to the fact that they were now married. However, business is business, and he has no relatives here. It would be extremely problematic if he didn¡¯t now have a reliable partner, someone he could trust with finances, and someone to blame this whole medical issue on.


    ¡° You understand what¡¯s the matter,¡± Demian began in a trembling voice, looking up at her with already red, but now also swollen, eyes, ¡°just yesterday my parents and my brother¡¯s wife were there.¡± And you understand, they were not all that good spatial thinkers to navigate such a situation in time. They. Were not. The fucking spacers. At all. The lists of the dead have already been announced.


    Dorian and Estelle froze.


    So his parents were still alive?..


    ¡°Fuck...¡± was all Estelle could exhale, looking at her friend with pity.


    "I... " Dorian didn¡¯t know what to say. The situation was, to put it mildly, unexpected.


    ¡°Why exactly this skyscraper?..¡± Demen convulsively clutched the hem of Dorian¡¯s suit, almost sagging on it.


    He pressed his heel into the upholstery and slightly raised his knee, preventing his friend from hitting his nose on the floor. Dorian didn''t know how to react to this. He had never experienced anything like this. He never knew his parents. Aunt told him that they died, but did not even show him photographs.


    Dorian was still not sure why she hated him so much: because he took away her freedom with his existence, or because his parents, whom he did not remember, died. He did not know. And, to be honest, he didn¡¯t care about it.


    Estelle leaned towards her husband and quietly asked:


    ¡°We don¡¯t want this incident to remain in the memory of ordinary people for a long time, do we?¡±


    At the moment, Demian was not the best option for the council.


    ¡°No,¡± Dorian nodded, ¡°It¡¯s better to remember something else.¡± Better right before our seats on the Council are taken.


    ¡°I understand,¡± she nodded. - I''ll tell Ellin. She and Cheryl will sort it out.


    ¡°Yes, they understand everything themselves,¡± Dorian shrugged quietly, showing her a recent letter from Cheryl on the second screen.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me just because we just killed my parents,¡± Demen sobbed irritably, without raising his head. "We have already approved this all together. It is after the next ''event'' that Yaari will leave his post. I hope this time you..."


    A lump came to my throat again. He couldn''t even complete the sentence.


    ¡°Make sure they will be in the city,¡± Dorian nodded understandingly. "This time it doesn¡¯t matter where exactly, the main thing is in the city."

 Chapter 0. Sheryl

    Twelve years later.


    ¡°How is the research progressing?¡±


    Ellin moved for the first time in hours. She turned her head away from the window, looking with peripheral vision at the man who silently entered the room.


    ¡°They are starting to bother me,¡± the woman returned to the window. ¡°Too close. If this continues, action will have to be taken.¡±


    Behind the glass, a crystal clear lake sparkled in the rays of the afternoon sun. In the distance, tall pine trees could be seen along the banks. Their main office and at the same time main residence was located in the very center of the lake. There was no wind today.


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    "Is is that bad?¡± Sheryl clarified, stopping nearby. He didn''t look worried. He, like her, did not seem to care at all about the problems looming on the horizon.


    ¡°Not yet. Our mutual friend is now trying to take research in a different direction. If he fails, our first priority will be to help him solve the problem differently. For now, we will wait.¡±


    ¡°She can''t help him?¡± the question is asked with the intonation of a person already suggesting a specific answer.


    ¡°No. She is busy searching for the Hidden Cities. There may not be a second chance anytime soon. My calculations only work for this time frame. It was quite difficult to get permission to use computing power for personal purposes,¡± Ellin paused. ¡°How are things going with those documents?¡±


    ¡°You don''t know?¡± For a second, surprise slips into the voice.


    ¡°We agreed,¡± she shrugs indifferently.¡± As long as my interference is not needed, I will not interfere.


    ¡°I¡¯m working on it,¡± Sheryl nodded.¡± I already know who, where, and when."


    ¡°We always knew,¡± a light smile touches the woman¡¯s lips.


    ¡°They didn''t even connect him to the network.¡± Sheryl¡¯s voice shows dissatisfaction.


    ¡°You too,¡± Ellin looks at him without blinking. Sheryl shrugs.


    The interlocutors motionlessly look at the frozen water. The room is silent again.

 Chapter 1. Jimi

    Sometimes frightening thoughts came into his head. Thoughts that at one point he will look in the mirror and not see himself.


    Same short stature. The same thin physique, although sometimes the energy from the amount of food eaten per day would be more than enough to charge all his portable devices ten times. The same bones are more fragile than the standard of a healthy person and the greenish glow of the skin in the dark is slightly brighter, several lumens, than others. The same straight dark thick hair. Pap¨¢''s were much longer - Jimi stubbornly cut his down to his chin again and again. Almost the same face. Dorian looked only five years older. Another five years - and... Well, why wait?


    He can stay forever at seventeen.


    One has only to talk to his parents and in the coming days their doctor will freeze his outer age, and he will not have to worry about it.


    However, in recent years he was even more worried about the dangerous hobbies of his parents. Their travels across the Gray Lands began to take more and more time. At first, Jimi noticed that he was nervous. He tried to convince himself that they knew what they were doing, that everything would be okay. They have many good friends-specialists, many acquaintances and useful connections. It can''t be wrong.


    But self-conviction did not work. Over the years, anxiety has not gone away. On the contrary, it only strengthened and became his constant companion somewhere on the border of consciousness. These intrusive thoughts were sometimes very distracting.


    Jimi lazily turned over in his chair, throwing his legs over the back, resting his toes on the ceiling, hanging his head down. The screen moved smoothly behind him. Why, for example, mama''n and pap¨¢ have a normal uninterrupted connection to the network, but he doesn''t? It is simply impossible to play something normal - you one way or another will be thrown out of the network due to a broken connection. Although, maybe it¡¯s just that mama¡¯n¡¯s firewall was set up this way? The schedules and customized notifications never froze or were late.


    Money was one of the few things that fascinated him. Jimi loved money. He loved the freedom they provided. Possibilities. Everything else, even his fascination with space contours, firmly gave way to finance.


    After all, how can you not love the lifeblood of economics?


    Jimi looked around at the numerous racks of external drives, various disconnected screens, ranging from those that were already ten years old to the latest models of last season. Hanging from one of the shelves was a holographic projector, which Jimi mainly used to look at maps.


    He sighed. His parents believe that he has no reason to waste time on useless entertainment. It¡¯s not that this particularly bothered him, no, not at all, he had no problems with anything other than games, and the area around the house was quite enough to unwind, but still...


    Still, he sometimes thought that he needed a friend of the same age. But every time I opened the forum, I was almost sending my first letter to someone, my fingers always froze over the keyboard. It''s too tiring. It''s not worth it. The window immediately closed.


    Jimi read about all sorts of events online and naturally learned about various inventions and new products. In the end, this is how he chose the Academy for himself.


    Remembering this, Jimi could not hold back a sarcastic chuckle - he chose. He chose it until Dorian found out about it. Until he sent him an archive of documents about the Academy in Montis.


    So there was a choice - and there is no choice. It''s not that Jimi wasn''t happy - the choice was actually very good.


    But, on the one hand, everything was decided for him. Although on the other hand, everything was the same decided for him.


    Saturday? Friday? Wednesday? The new episode was yesterday, which means Tuesday.


    He sighed. Pushing his foot off the ceiling, Jimi flipped over and landed softly on the floor.


    No, his parents¡¯ affairs are, of course, their affairs, but he definitely has nothing better to do now. Mama''n seems to have recently ordered new suits - he might be wondering when they will arrive. Maybe he''ll run into one of their friends.


    Towards the door leading into the western corridor in anticipation. This corridor was the fastest way to get to Estelle''s laboratory. Well, if not to Estelle, then their friends only used this anyway.


    "Jimi!" came a surprised exclamation from behind.


    Jimi turned around and Inga leaned out from behind the slightly open door. That''s for sure, it feels like she''s not coming to Estelle, or even to Dorian, but to him - to Jimi. There was never a time when she didn¡¯t drag him along with her: either to look at new modifications of the suit¡¯s protective circuits or to show where and what Jimi should be careful with - how you can interfere with someone else¡¯s circuit, if you know where and how, otherwise - just trying on some new suits that she thought would look great on him. Not that Jimi minded, but...


    "Inga!" smiling widely, he approached her, as if imperceptibly trying to look behind the door, ¡°Hello!¡± I''m glad to see you! How long have you been here?


    "Since morning. Sorry, sorry, I didn''t have time to come see you earlier."


    Inga fell silent. The first to break eye contact and quickly glance around the corridor. Making sure that no one was nearby, especially Dorian, she grabbed the guy by the arm and yanked him inside, quietly closing the door behind her.


    Jimi looked around. The room in which he found himself, the guest room occupied by Inga, had changed greatly since her last visit: the tailor''s mannequins with clothes disappeared, the walls hung with patterns and sketches returned to their original light green color. The dark green parquet floor was now free from the usual piles of fabric and lace, and Inga herself was dressed as if she was going on a trip: shoes were replaced by boots, and even instead of her favorite skirt there were now hiking pants.


    "Are you flying away?"


    "Not yet, not now. But I¡¯m going to,¡± she agreed. "You will go to the Academy, and I will go on a journey."


    "Search for the Cities?" Jimi said jokingly.


    ¡°At least them,¡± Inga unexpectedly agreed.


    Jimi sighed. Like dad, like mama, and now Inga... His parents have been trying to find the Hidden Cities for many years now. They constantly go on business trips and always bring home new pieces of the map. The two of them fill out that map on top of the regular one - marking where they have been and where they have not found anything.


    Firstly dad is gone for a month, then mama''n doesn''t show up for two. Sometimes there were weeks when their business trips overlapped and if earlier Jimi stayed with one of their friends, then in recent years he has been quietly left alone.


    It¡¯s not that he really needs them here now... As long as nothing happens to them. His future, his opportunities, his safety and tranquility... Everything depended on them. Jimi couldn''t help but think about it every now and then. No... He always remembered.


    Unlike his parents, he spent almost all his time on the grounds of the mansion. In his entire life, he left her only four times, and even then they teleported to one of his parents¡¯ friends. But Jimi did not feel locked in - according to the documents, their land amounted to forty-two hectares of land.


    But these borders, apart from protective contours, were not marked in any way, and beyond them, endless fields opened up. This included a river, a piece of grove, and hills. But there were no neighbors. Even from the edge of his territory, Jimi never saw other houses or roads - they simply did not exist. Of course ¨C Gray lands after all. The only transport from here was the teleport. Well, or legs. But for the latter, he was not yet so good at controlling, roughly speaking, flight.


    Yes, and his combat skills are not very good. He was, of course, trained, but the Gray Lands are the Gray Lands. Stupid decision to stick your head out alone. Very stupid.


    ¡°But you¡¯re just in time,¡± Inga returned his attention, walking around Jimi and approaching the only remaining mannequin. Jimi came closer, smoothly running his hand over the soft fabric. The mannequin was wearing a dark gray insulated suit with a high collar and many spacious pockets. The entire lining was strewn with fine lettering of various contours. Beneath them, in wide lines, was an additional heating system.


    ¡°Functional,¡± Jimi assessed, turning to her. "Who is it for?"


    "Remember, you once said that you also want to travel?"


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything about the pole,¡± he shook his head with a grin.


    "Maybe you''ll decide. This will fit your cards, your spare clothes, and,¡± she laughed, ¡°you can attach the board to your back. In general, everything you need. Try it on."


    Jimi appreciated the joke about the board. He put on a suit. The collar was right under the nose, almost completely covering the lips and cheeks. The hood hid the second third of the face. There was only room left for glasses.


    Almost all of Jimi''s costumes were also made by Inga. And not only costumes - Inga sewed and enchanted clothes for the entire Mor family, all three of them. Inga had a permanent job, the Mors had a personal master.


    Outerwear could be anything, but you could almost never meet a person without a so-called second suit. In a sense, it could be called a second skin - the measurements were taken so precisely and it was made so individually.


    Numerous accidental deaths during various experiments and experiments led to the development of such everyday protection. For different prices, it was possible to order completely different equipment - they were used from the first layer of clothing, over which everyone wore outfits that were so familiar to the eye, to the protective suits of the Council¡¯s battle mages.


    Jimi''s costume was closer to the latter.


    ¡°Comfortable,¡± Jimi assessed after five minutes of quick tests.


    ¡°Wonderful,¡± Inga smiled. "Shall we go look for Dorian?"


    "Do you know where he is?"


    "No. So shall we go?"


    Jimi laughed. Finding pap¨¢ was easy on one side, but impossible on the other. When they went on business trips, both he and Estelle, especially, of course, mama''n, had not bothered to somehow inform him for a long time.


    ¡°They were still here in the morning,¡± Inga understood.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Jimi gave in.


    They found Dorian in the living room. The windows here could be transformed into small balconies, on one of which the pap¨¢ stood. The wind blew in his face, ruffling his hair. Hearing footsteps, Jimi turned around.


    Yes... another five years and instead of him, in front of papa, his reflection will stand. Jimi liked the way his parents looked. But every year this increased the similarity between them and Dorian. No matter how much he tried to find something from his mother in himself, everything was interrupted by the papa genes. I wonder which of his parents was so obsessed with his dad¡¯s appearance that he asked the genetic center for an appearance based only on his genes?.. And how did the other one agree to this?..


    ¡°Dorian,¡± Inga approached him, squinting from the bright sun.


    "I heard you are leaving?" he turned around.


    "I''m going on a trip. I''m thinking of walking to Nechten and stopping by Tenren along the way. Maybe drop by Faurelt. They write that this season is the one when you can find the newest fabrics. What are you going to do?"


    "I''ll send Jimi to the Academy and leave again. Perhaps we¡¯ll meet Estelle,¡± Dorian shrugged vaguely.


    ¡°By the way, about the Academy,¡± Jimi interjected into the conversation, standing next to dad, leaning on the railing. "When will you take me?"


    "Soon. An answer will come from my friend - then you will go. I want him to meet you and see you off. There you will already get used to the city within a year. I need you to get there without any problems."


    "Why don¡¯t you do it yourself?" already suspecting the answer, Jimi asked.


    ¡°Work,¡± Dorian waved him off.


    Well, yes. As usual.


    "But I¡¯ve never been to the city?"


    "Yes, I remember. So I asked my friend to meet you."


    "Do I know him?"


    "Yeah, you met him. A couple of years ago he came to our place for lunch - Demen De-Lassy, if you remember."


    "Is this the one who is the Head of the Faculty of Spacers Studies?" Inga drowned.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± dad nodded to her and turned back to Jimi. "He has a somewhat unusual appearance, it would be difficult to confuse him with someone."


    ¡°Ah,¡± Jimi remembered. "Is this the one to whom you then decided to pour coffee with a gesture that had not yet been practiced and spilled it all on his white pants when the contours glitched? Is he still an albino?"


    ¡°Exactly¡± Dorian repeated. ¡°I made an appointment with him that he would meet you at a house on the main street.¡± I''ll write the exact address later. I will send you to Montis, and there you will only have to walk a short distance. You will wait for Demen at the agreed place; again, this evening I will show everything on the map. You will need to be there by eight in the morning. That is, in about ten or twenty minutes, if in advance, you will need to teleport."


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    Jimi nodded. You don''t even have to set an alarm clock.


    Dorian turned to Inga and politely asked her to leave them for a while. Inga, it seemed, already had something to do - she shrugged her shoulders indifferently, turned around and left the room, closing the door behind her. Jimi looked at her, puzzled.


    ¡°There¡¯s one more thing I want to tell you about,¡± dad began, moving away from the window and sitting down on the sofa. Perplexed, Jimi approached him.


    "What''s the matter?"


    "As you have already read, at the Montis Academy, many students find personal curators among teachers during their studies. I talked to Demen about this - if you want, he agreed to become your curator. You better get to know him and decide whether you want it or not. Maybe you and him won¡¯t get along at all, and you¡¯ll decide to look for someone yourself,¡± he shrugged. "Why not. But for now, you have the opportunity to become a student of the Head of the Faculty. He, of course, is not only the Head, but you can ask about the rest yourself - just talk."


    Of course?.. Oh, yes. It''s dad. Of course, of course.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jimi nodded. The opportunity was indeed very good.


    "But if anything..."


    "Yes, I understand. If anything, good. See you tonight then?"


    "Will you be in the library as usual?"


    "Yeah."


    ¡°I¡¯ll come to you,¡± he smiled.


    Closing the door behind him, Jimi leaned on it with a sigh. As many as six years. After seventeen years, he can leave the house on his own. For six whole years his face will belong only to him.


    But we still need to talk about freezing. This is not something you can delay. If you miss age, you won¡¯t get it back later. And it¡¯s definitely not worth it to climb here yourself without at least a special education. You will also damage your protein in these attempts to increase chromosomal telomeres, or something worse.


    Jimi spent the rest of the time by the river. It was a matter of a couple of minutes to fly. The network worked from all corners of Blight territory, and Jimi turned on the series as usual. Only this time the main goal was not the plot - it was an attempt to pass the time before the long-awaited departure. Even so, he was still very nervous. So much so that he remembered about lunch only after dad¡¯s message.


    "Ready?" asked Dorian.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jimi yawned.


    Dorian looked at Jimi incredulously and began to activate the portal. A flash of white light - and now he is already standing in the teleportation circle of one of Montis¡¯s private transport companies.


    Jimi went out into the street and after a while, he was already on one of the main avenues of the city, from which, if you followed the map, you could walk to the Academy. But now he needed to go somewhere else.


    On this avenue was the house Jimi needed. The navigator showed him the right place. He stopped, called his watch, and, making sure that there was still time, decided to read a recently published article by one of his favorite scientists.


    Suddenly a hand fell on his shoulder.


    "Jimi?" a quiet male voice rang out in my ear. Jimi turned around.


    White spot.


    Standing in front of him was a young man of about twenty-five, with pale red eyes and white hair almost as long as papa''s. Jimi noted that his light white and beige suit was the work suit of a space tester. This man was a white spot against the background of the gray-blue city.


    "Jimi Mor, right?" he clarified affably. "I am Demen De-Lassy ¨C Head of the Faculty of Spacers Studies at the Montis Academy. You and I saw each other two years ago when I was visiting your parents. Dorian asked me to meet you."


    "Demen?" Jimi finally recognized him. ¡°You haven¡¯t changed a bit.¡±


    Jimi remembered him. Even though it was only once. He remembered Demian for how his dad treated him then. In a special way. How to Estelle.


    Demen laughed quietly as if he had heard a good joke.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jimi said, embarrassed. "it would be strange if it were the other way around. Papa said that you will accompany me. How will we get there?"


    "Shall I show you the city?" Demen suddenly asked.


    "I would not refuse." Jimi smiled.


    Demen lifted him into the air with an outline and picked him up in his arms.


    "For what?" Jimi asked incomprehensibly.


    ¡°It¡¯s more convenient,¡± Demen was confused by his question. "Less effort is wasted. You should know, right?.."


    ¡°I read it,¡± Jimi agreed. The enhancement was much less energy-consuming than levitating another living person next to you at the same speed. "But I didn¡¯t have a chance to use it."


    "Now we will rise above the city, and then fly to the Academy. There is a platform at the top of the central tower - that¡¯s where we¡¯ll land."


    De-Lassi cast a protective circuit and soared into the sky.


    From above, the city looked like an autumn lake: gray, blue and white roofs shone with a yellowish light in the rays of the sun. Some streets no longer even looked like water but like small scales. On the right, a network of canals between houses was visible, so dense that it seemed there were no roads at all, only bridges.


    They flew over a large area of ringed water, along the edges of which stood tall white buildings with a glass facade - the sun glared so brightly that Jimi had to turn on the sun visor.


    Transport capsules were flying over the city. In big cities the transport network is well established, and, as Jimi had read, getting from one end of Montis to the other could take up to three hours if you used the metro, and up to an hour in the worst-case scenario if you took capsules.


    On one side the city stretched almost to the horizon. Somewhere in the distance, the outlines of many skyscrapers could be seen.


    On the mainland, Versilia, Montis was the first largest city.


    In the same place where they were flying, outside the city on the only high hill, stood the Academy.


    Massive white fortress.


    As Jimi approached, he was able to get a better look at her. High walls with many windows, twelve stories high, with six three-story battlements, and an even taller tower in the very center. The tower was surrounded by a green park, through which six smooth roads made of white material led to it.


    Windows also looked out onto the park, and if outside there were only twelve balconies (Jimi saw only eight, but from their location one could easily guess the existence of four more) emerging from the upper floors of the battlements, then inside, starting from the fourth, they dotted the entire fa?ade. They were many times smaller than the outside ones, and Jimi had the idea that perhaps this was where he would live for the next five years. Which is what he voiced to Demen right away.


    "Yes, students¡¯ personal apartments are located inside the Academy. They are allocated parts of the third, fourth and fifth floors. The sixth and seventh rooms are occupied by working classrooms, also allocated to students during their studies. They, like the apartments, are used by students as they want. Although they stand out, of course, for projects."


    "I read about it. Will you teach something with us?"


    They started to slow down. Demen flew smoothly through the arch and landed on the platform. They found themselves in a large hall, open on all sides. There were no walls here - the dome was supported by columns high, like one and a half floors of a native mansion, connected by arcs glowing with white light. The ceiling was glazed with darkened plates, and a seawater-colored sky could be seen through it. The pale blue floor, decorated with dark blue and white mosaics, only enhanced the feeling of space and freedom.


    From here you could see everything: on one side there was a view of Montis, on the other - on endless fields, where only very far on the horizon, blurring into the blue, a forest could be seen.


    ¡°The first years, no - I teach classes only for senior students,¡± Demen answered, lowering Jimi next to him and interrupting his enthusiastic stupor.


    Jimi walked hesitantly to the edge. A strong wind whipped up the tails of his cloak, scattered his hair and pushed him back. Jimi reflexively grabbed the column, crouched down and looked down on his knees.


    Deep Below you could see a park with very small, barely distinguishable people.


    De Lassi walked up to him and calmly sat down next to him, dangling his legs down and spreading his arms to the sides. White hair fluttered in the wind, quickly wriggling, flashing before Jimi''s eyes, but Demian''s suit didn''t even move. It was as if the head was upstairs with Jimi, and the rest of the body was downstairs, where outside the walls of the Academy it should have been quiet and windless.


    "What about supervision?" Finally decided to ask Jimi. Jimi didn''t know how well Demen could teach, but the fact that he was dad''s friend and the position of Head of the Faculty spoke volumes.


    Now having seen him, having met him personally, Jimi¡¯s second impression was positive. Demen did not show off his skills, as some individuals from the network do. A simple and effective solution is always better. Moreover, in total, such simplifications in large combinations save a truly amazing amount of energy. Yes, and you need to think less.


    Or was it simply that Demen is pap¨¢''s trusted man?


    ¡°For now you have time to decide,¡± Demen answered, putting his hair in order with a contour and also protecting it from the wind, applying the same contour to Jimi.


    "Then, may I ask a question about your specialty?" having gotten rid of the wind that threatened to drag him down, Jimi hesitantly let go of the column, relaxed and sat down next to Demen.


    "What exactly are you interested in?"


    "What do you study? Why were you chosen as the head of the faculty of space studies?"


    "I am researching space distortions. This is exactly what I teach to students in my last year. Why me? Complex issue. If we ignore all the privileges provided by this position, the high salary, then perhaps we can say that it is interesting for me to be here, among completely different and at the same time identical people,¡± he grinned. "One way or another, we all love our work here - thanks to this, the Academy has become what it is. I watch truly talented specialists grow up, and I am pleased to know that my work played a significant role in this."


    Cold streams of air flowed around the figures sitting on the edge, swirling around the columns and rushing into the distance. The fingers were cold but did not freeze and did not lose mobility. De-Lassi looked boredly somewhere into the sky.


    ¡°You know,¡± Jimi said, becoming more and more confident that he was making the right choice. Or that dad made the right choice again, "could you be him? My curator?"


    ¡°Consider me one from now on,¡± he answered easily.


    Well, yes. Papa.


    ¡°It¡¯s that simple,¡± Demen nodded, answering the silent question, ¡°it¡¯s not documented on documents,¡± standing up, he extended his hand. "We still need to come in and give you a pass.


    Jimi took the outstretched hand and Demen, taking a step back, easily helped him up.


    "Who makes them? Those passes?"


    "Our security department. You won''t be able to see them - they are usually not shown to students."


    In the center of the hall, which Jimi did not pay attention to at first, confusing it with a mosaic, there were nine teleportation platforms built into the floor in a circle. Another, more complex, contour ran along the outer edge of the platforms.


    Demen stood in one of the circles and pulled Jimi along with him by the hand, then he set some coordinates and activated the circuit. They were engulfed in a white glow.


    A spacious, half-empty office without windows. A woman in a guard''s uniform sat at the table and signed papers. When she raised her head, Jimi saw her face: it was a cold, inscrutable face of a man who had held a high position for many years. A person who is familiar with dirt and accustomed to working with it.


    Such was Ulrich, the man to whom Jimi was invited long ago. The person because of whom, or thanks to him, he was able to leave the confines of the house one of those four times.


    ¡°De-Lassi,¡± she nodded briefly, greeting her colleague.


    "Feris."


    ¡°Jimi Mor, as I understand it,¡± she didn¡¯t ask. Feris took a thin transparent flexible plate from the table and called Jimi over to her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll wait here,¡± Demen said, settling into a chair against the far wall and taking out the screen. Without looking away from Jimi, the woman nodded silently.


    ¡°This is your ID,¡± she explained. "It is also a pass to the territory of the Academy, library and other objects belonging to it. It is also the key to the apartments and working audience. He will be assigned to you for the duration of your training. Now I will need your leading hand."


    After hesitating for a moment Jimi held out his right one.


    "I''ll implant this plate into her. It will not be noticeable and will not bother you. After completing your training, the self-destruct mechanism will be activated. It will not cause any harm to your body. It will disintegrate into small particles and be removed on its own. Before we begin, I will ask you to sit opposite me."


    Jimi looked around - now there was a chair nearby. He sat up and rolled up the sleeve of his sweater, after a couple of seconds of hesitation, he applied the tie and unzipped the unlocked zipper on the forearm of the undersuit. Now he started to get nervous.


    The woman cleared the table with a few gestures, stacked the papers on the edge of the table, applied an anesthetic circuit to Jimi and got to work.


    Having made a neat cut, Feris lifted the plate with a gesture. A thin stream of blood flowed down his arm and dripped onto the table, activating the circuit. It glowed, absorbing blood, cleaning the countertop. Curving to the shape of a hand, the plate entered under the skin quickly and imperceptibly: Jimi felt only a faint tingling sensation. With the next contour, she secured it inside, as if dissolving it, plunging deep into the bone and securing it around it. Feris closed the cut with another ligament and removed the blood. There was not a trace left on the skin. It was as if nothing had happened.


    ¡°Done,¡± just as quickly she returned the papers to their original places and handed Jimi a card with two numbers. "4.156.S ¨C the address of your apartment. 7.156.S ¨C address of the working audience. The schedule will be emailed one week before the start of the school year. That''s all."


    She went back to work, gesturing to Jimi that he was free.


    Jimi immediately zipped up. The lock was activated automatically. Now he was able to relax relatively again.


    Demen looked up from the screen, made sure that they had finished, stood up and called out to the newly minted student. Jimi got up from his chair, and at the same second it was screwed into the floor, covered with a piece of floor on top. He walked up to Demen and stood next to him on the platform. De Lassie again set the coordinates and Jimi was absorbed by the glow.


    A spacious round hall with high ceilings and many teleportation pads on the floor. Translucent wall windows between arched exits.


    ¡°This is our portal hall,¡± Demen explained. "All students and most teachers use it. By the way, that card is only needed so that the first time you know where to go. Once you remember, you can just throw it away.}


    Jimi was about to ask Demen where his body was when his screen suddenly vibrated. Demen''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hastily accepted the call. For several minutes he listened silently to the person on the other end. From his apologetic look and the way he spread his hands, Jimi understood that they would not answer him now.


    Before ending the call, Demen only briefly replied: ¡°I¡¯ll be right there.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he turned to Jimi with regret in his voice. He looked confused. "This is urgent. The numbering is simple - I think you''ll figure it out. We''ll talk about our classes later."


    Jimi nodded slowly. What else was left for him?..


    Demen hurriedly returned to the portation circuit and disappeared in a flash of light. Jimi sighed. He looked at the card. He walked up to the arch and carefully touched the semblance of glass. The hand passed right through with barely perceptible resistance. Jimi sighed and took a step.


    He was outside. At the tower. Opposite him stood buildings. It walked around the tower. All the buildings were exactly the same. There was a large park around, through which paths ran from the tower to the buildings. Exactly six. From behind the treetops rose absolutely identical walls with absolutely identical windows.


    According to the photographs on the website, the inside of the case was also no different. From the photographs and outwardly everything was the same, but he thought that at the beginning of the school year they would make at least some identification marks... They didn¡¯t.


    It was difficult to even tell where one building ended and the other began. Jimi walked around the tower again. Jimi sighed. Having resigned himself to the inevitable, Jimi chose one of the paths at random and walked towards the building visible in the distance.


    The park occupied a significant part of the Academy''s territory. It was dotted with many different paths and clearings, where students sometimes rested. Sometimes the plants formed intricate corridors and cavities hidden behind foliage that students used as hidden rooms.


    Approaching the building, Jimi walked through one of the many arches and headed deeper toward the stairs. He went up to the fourth floor and tried to find his apartment. There were numbers on the doors with the letter "M". Jimi walked irritably to the window. From here the park was very clearly visible. But his apartments are not. Jimi once again took out the card and checked the number on it - ¡°P¡±. He still got lost. Okay... He''s not in a hurry - you can try to get around the rest of the buildings. But who will undertake to claim that the letters on the floors correspond to... what? Who guarantees that the numbering here will at least somehow correspond to his assumptions?


    "Lost something?" suddenly came from behind the shoulder. Jimi, trying to hide his irritation as much as possible, turned around - standing in front of him was a guy... about twenty years old? Jimi was not good at determining age. In a black suit, with dark, either blue or also black, shoulder-length hair. He had unnaturally bright blue eyes, under each of which, neatly in a line, starting from the outer corner and approaching the center, there were three dark, clearly not drawn dots. Obviously not of natural origin. Metal?


    The guy looked completely calm, like mama''n, when she carried out her experiments and observed the process. Doesn''t look like a freshman. Although who knows, maybe this is his second tower...


    Jimi now has a chance to deal with his problem quickly and easily. And he didn''t miss it.


    He turned out to be right. This guy really wasn''t a freshman and even walked Jimi to his apartment. Koset ¨C that¡¯s how he introduced himself, was in his last year of medical school. The whole way they walked, Jimi could not shake off the feeling of some kind of inadequacy. Only at the end, when his new acquaintance was already leaving, it dawned on him. The irises of his eyes were mirror images of each other. They had an identical pattern. Artificial eyes?


    Jimi stopped in front of the door with his number. It looks like an ordinary white door, matching the color of the corridor, but if you look closely you can see the contour ligature around the perimeter. Jimi had little understanding of enchantment and did not bother himself with a task doomed to failure; he opened the door and entered the room.


    The first thing that caught his eye was a huge window that spanned the entire wall. It had a view of the city and the sun setting towards the horizon.


    There was nothing in the room. It was large, spacious, with high ceilings, six or seven meters, but completely empty. On the right wall there was a door and an opening up to the ceiling, behind which the continuation of the window was hidden. The opening led to the kitchen, if it could even be called a kitchen: a small square of space, directly opposite the entrance - a kitchen table, stove and sink; there is a hood and three empty shelves on the wall. It was probably assumed that the table and all other furniture would be in a large room.


    Like everything Jimi had seen here so far, the apartment''s walls, ceiling, and even the concrete floor were white. That door led to the bathroom.


    And again white - Jimi guessed easily. But that was not the point.


    The room was completely empty.


    Okay, there are identical buildings here, okay, no one knows what is where, but the furniture?.. And what do you say it should be? A nervous chuckle escaped him. The parents will laugh... Jimi had no idea where to even find a bed.


    Fuck.

 Chapter 2. Kozet

    Tuesday. Today is Tuesday. He hardly kept track of the time, but he knew for sure that it was now 16:19, the fifth Tuesday since the start of the holidays.


    There was, as always, enough work, and there was almost no free time left. Although when was it different?..


    Putting down the scalpel, Kozet shook out his hands, reflexively clearing them of adhering blood. He walked away from the dissecting table and deactivated the additional protection.


    A year until the, the medic had the most standard appearance for a person on whom plastic surgeons had worked well. With the exception of unpainted black nails and pale skin, like that of a corpse lying on the table nearby for several days, he looked completely normal.


    The suit he was wearing now had been ordered for him by Keriz, who was now somewhere in the depths of his part of the house. Perhaps in his laboratory. Kozet wore it almost without taking it off: the thermoregulation system of his class of undersuit made it possible to wear any outerwear at any time of the year. The neutral dark blue, almost black color, was in harmony with his entire wardrobe.


    Under this outer suit was hidden a second, black one. Even though the top one had a rather high collar, the second one still showed half a centimeter.


    Kozet walked over to the metal desk and turned on the large screen. Having made a couple of notes in the already prepared table, he again turned to the corpse and took several frames from different angles and attached them to the file.


    Having finished this, he activated a special freezing circuit on the table that preserves the body in its original state until decontamination.


    Today he had a conversation with his father. This year he is graduating from the Academy and his father¡¯s connections will be very useful in finding further employment.


    Guest rooms, large living rooms - this house was once noisy. Now many doors do not open for months - only occasionally Kozet entered one of the rooms when he wanted to change the situation a little. Keriz''s office, where he spent the afternoon, was on the second floor, at the end of the corridor from the left staircase.


    Powerful protective contours are barely visible on the walls. Dark door with metal patterns.


    Kozet knocked and entered without waiting for an answer.


    ¡°Keriz. ¡°He greeted his father with a nod, approaching him.


    Keriz sat at a large desk made of dark wood and examined the contents of the vessel standing on it. Kozet sighed - the head had been in this office for more than a year, or rather, he did not remember at all the time when it was not here.


    ¡°I¡¯m talking about practice,¡± he began, looking from his head to his father. ¡°Remember when you told me that your friend needed an assistant?¡± When will you introduce me to him? I have my last year left, and now I should start looking for a place to do an internship.


    ¡°Kozet.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Could you put it away,¡± Keriz looked away and handed the black cloth to his son.


    Kozet covered the vessel, carefully placed it on the top shelf of the far shelf, then returned and settled in the adjacent chair. There were always two chairs in the office. For Keriz and for him.


    ¡°Can we talk now?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Quite so. The person I told you about, her name is Darcia Markde. She is a good doctor and a regular at all kinds of meetings, conferences and private parties. Her connections will be useful to you. Now she is busy with the technical arrangement of a new laboratory and medical complex. She will not work in her main specialty for at least another six months, so I advise you to focus on your studies for now - maybe you will be able to find someone else before graduating from the Academy. If not, you will meet her. She will either take you on as an intern or pass you on to one of her colleagues.¡±


    ¡°And you?¡± From the outside, it seemed that Kozet was not interested in this at all. ¡°What are you going to do?¡±


    ¡°Now I¡¯m working on a project - additional devices for storing living memory.¡±


    ¡° You refused to work with the team?¡± Kozet asked, either surprised or clarifying. ¡°However, it¡¯s none of my business. In recent years, the Council has become less and less interested in you, but this is no reason...¡±


    Keriz quietly laughed.


    ¡°I know. I''m not going to act rashly.¡±


    ¡°So you''re going to work alone?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Silence hung in the air.


    ¡°I will be coming sometimes during the year,¡± Kozet said quietly.


    It wasn''t a question. This was a statement of fact. They both understood this.


    ¡°So far, everything is fine,¡± Keriz said, as if making excuses.


    ¡°I know. And I want it to stay that way.¡±


    They fell silent. Outside the window, silently for them, the sea raged.


    Panoramic windows in the office overlooked the water from the back of the house. The house itself was a small mansion on the edge of the mainland. On one side stretched endless green and completely deserted plains, and on the other there was a high cliff, against which dark sea waves beat continuously day and night.


    This region was not distinguished by sunny weather - almost the entire year it was cloudy and windy, but Keriz loved this weather. And Kozet, who lived here as long as he could remember, did too.


    From the air, the mansion resembled the letter P strongly pressed on top; Kozet lived in the right wing, and Keriz lived in the left. Viewed from the plains, it was a three-story Gothic mansion made of dark brown, dark blue and black materials. Kozet was a medic, and all he knew about these materials was that they were very durable and covered with a whole network of different circuits.


    Two floors above ground and two floors below ground were actively used by two of its inhabitants, but the third stood untouched. It was not empty, there was furniture there, just like everywhere else, and paintings hanging here and there. But Keriz could not be there. And Kozet simply had nothing to do there.


    Dest lived there once. But all that Kozet knew about her was only that she was very dear to his father. And that she was his mother. But he didn¡¯t remember her, and visual data about her was either not preserved or did not exist at all.


    Laboratories were located in the basement of the mansion. Kozet''s could be accessed either from his bedroom or through an inconspicuous door behind the house. Once upon a time, a narrow path led to the door, running to the very edge of the cliff, where along a stone spiral staircase one could go down to the water.


    Now in its place grew slightly trampled grass - the Perrins rarely used this staircase - several years ago Keriz made a new way down, also a staircase, but this time leading from inside the house, starting on the second basement floor and going out not to the water, but to a stone ledge, where only a strong stormwater got in. Therefore, now underground on particularly windy days, when the sea was stormy, one could hear the echoes of waves crashing against the rocks.


    ¡°It¡¯s time for you to return to your things,¡± Keriz said quietly, looking away.


    Kozet sighed imperceptibly. Again. He nodded silently and left the office. He really had something to do.


    The room was dimly lit. Kozet lay on the sofa, wearing black headphones with his eyes closed. Loud music drowned out all the sounds around him, allowing him to relax and take his mind off work. Everdin said that even if you don''t feel tired, you still need to take short breaks - let your brain rest. Everdin, unlike his father, took care of his health, was always full of strength and energy, and, although he had a lot of work, he managed to find time for his other hobbies.


    Everdin Sol-Orien was his supervisor and the Head of the Faculty of Medicine.


    After some time, Kozet got up, put his headphones on the table and went to the basements.


    The laboratory greeted him with a bright white light and an unpleasant smell from under the film on the table. He walked up to him and threw back the cloth: the body had already begun to decompose, and it was now impossible to work with it. Kozet went to the wall and pulled out a drawer into which he deposited the old body, and then, opening another, took out a new one.


    The new corpse turned out to be a girl with an appearance of about twenty years old, dressed in a white medical research suit. In everything, this body was exactly the same as many before it: cadaverous pale, too-soft skin, blue lips, a complete absence of signs of life.


    But one detail was significantly different - her black eyes. Completely black, no irises, no whites, as if someone had replaced her real eyes with polished chunks of frozen ink. Even small black smudges under the eyes were visible. Kozet looked closely: not only under the eyes: a drop of black liquid froze under the nose, and black accumulations also formed in the corners of the mouth.


    Kozet tightened the guard on his arms and carefully opened her mouth. It turned out to be full of the same black liquid. The liquid was viscous to the touch, it stuck and stretched, but at the same time, some drops, breaking away from the total mass, scattered into small particles.


    But there are no marks on her throat, and there are no particles of skin under her nails, as if she suddenly began to choke. This means that either death was slow, or, on the contrary, too fast.


    Kozet took a long thin stick, like a dessert spoon, and scooped up some liquid. He poured it onto the glass, and only now, under the bright light, was he able to notice the particles of pollen. It wasn''t liquid. It was soggy black pollen. This is bad. Very bad.


    He hastily checked the protection and only then was able to exhale - not the slightest damage. He got lucky. Very.


    But what is this body doing to him? Perhaps Keriz doesn''t know about her? Using several circuits, he cleaned his hands several times and only then took out the screen, but then froze. Keriz said that this was not something the Council should know about. So, just in case, he shouldn¡¯t use the screen right now. He''ll have to find him personally.


    Kozet cleaned his clothes with a contour and applied another protection, but not on himself, but on top of the first shield, so that if it suddenly did not clear, it would not spread the virus throughout the house. And he was just about to go, search for his father, when the door suddenly swung open and Keriz flew inside.


    He instantly assessed the situation, erected several shields and motioned for his son to remain in place.


    Approaching the corpse, he froze for a moment. He grinned. He lifted the body into the air and erected a capsule around it for transportation. He pulled out the cleansing blanks and completed them, applying the first to the entire room, and the second to Kozet.


    ¡°You can remove the protection,¡± he calmly allowed. ¡°I see you already realized that you have encountered black pollen. My mistake - I had time to identify it, but I was busy with other things and didn¡¯t even go downstairs in recent days. Everything is fine?¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± Kozet answered nervously. ¡°Do you know her?¡±


    ¡°Yes. We... We once crossed paths at work,¡± he fell silent. ¡°Should I send you another body, or do you have one for now?¡±


    ¡°I have some,¡± Kozet nodded towards the storage room. ¡°Only places are running out. When are you going to burn it?¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°On the weekend. Should you pick them up or send them yourself?¡±


    ¡°Myself.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Keriz nodded, approaching the storage facility and levitating the capsule inside. Closing the door, he sent the body to himself. ¡°Do you still have a month before the start?¡±


    ¡°Month. Did you want something?¡±


    Keriz wanted to say something, but he either doubted or felt guilty and couldn¡¯t. Again. He sighed. Keriz seemed to be burdened by his presence. Kozet remembered well the relief on his father''s face when he finally went to the Academy for the first time.


    Keriz was tired of everyone, but unlike the others, Kozet was the only one whose presence he somehow had to endure. He did not give his father any problems, quickly learned new things, carefully watched his work, and subsequently began helping to examine the bodies and establish the cause of death. At some point, Keriz gave him his own laboratory and finally went to his wing, leaving almost half of the house to the fourteen-year-old boy.


    At times, Keriz seemed to enjoy his company with Kozet. Sometimes. Most of the time he seemed to be tired of everything. He should have rested a little, but he only threw himself into work more.


    He may have been different once, but all of Kozet''s memories began from the moment when Willa had been gone for two years. He was ten years old then.


    Kozet did not remember what caused such severe amnesia. I couldn''t remember. But Keriz didn¡¯t want to tell.


    ¡°Should I leave?¡± Kozet asked tiredly. ¡°I''m bothering you?¡±


    Keriz looked away and shrugged, as if apologetically.


    ¡°Ok. I will return to the Academy tomorrow morning.¡±


    Keriz nodded gratefully and left, leaving his son alone.


    Kozet distantly called his watch and looked at the time. Perhaps Everdin can help with material to work with? No, he will find something to do at the Academy, and let the corpses remain here for now.


    Kozet spent the entire evening in the library, the evening and most of the night. The library was always replenished with new books; this was my father¡¯s main and, probably, only hobby. He rarely left the house, but it was for new rare books that he left most often.


    Sometimes, the next day, Kozet would find one thin book, sometimes a whole row of impressive diaries. Removable media took up much less space, and Kozet did not always notice that Keriz had brought something new several weeks ago.


    But there was more to it than that - the library itself was quite large, and Kozet, although he could spend all his time here, still did not study everything. There were still a lot of information media that had been postponed, left for later, and did not hold his attention then.


    However, despite the sleepless night, early in the morning he was already dressed. Keriz would have grinned, saying that the same black helmet was missing. But he wasn''t here.


    Rising into the portal hall, Kozet activated the platform and disappeared in a white glow.


    Everdin''s apartment greeted him with Everdin falling off the sofa. He was watching something with glasses connected to the screen. The head of the medical faculty laughed chokedly as he blindly tried to climb back onto the sofa. Kozet left the circuit and approached his curator.


    ¡°Everdin?¡± he called him. He sat up abruptly, turning in his direction, hastily waving his hands in front of his face. Looks like he paused some video.


    ¡°Everdin?¡± Kozet repeated. The curator finally took off his glasses and looked at his student in surprise.


    ¡°Kozet? What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Plans have changed,¡± Kozet shrugged melancholy. ¡°And you are here?..¡±


    ¡°Having fun,¡± he put his glasses on the table next to the screen. ¡°Would you like some coffee?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t refuse,¡± Kozet smiled, sitting down in the chair opposite.


    ¡°What are you planning to do then?¡± Everdin asked, levitating cups towards himself, simultaneously brewing and pouring coffee.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± the cup smoothly fell into Kozet¡¯s hands. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll find something to read in the library.¡± If Kharin has already returned, perhaps we¡¯ll start thinking about the competition entry.


    ¡°So you decided to try?¡±


    ¡°Yes. There were no serious difficulties with the model; last year we also did a joint project - we have experience working together. In the end, even if it doesn¡¯t work out, it will count towards our final work, won¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°If you do it well, then yes. Will. Already have ideas?¡±


    ¡°Not yet. We were going to discuss it after the holidays. But perhaps he has already come up with something.¡±


    ¡°Are you looking forward to new ideas?¡± Everdin nodded understandingly. ¡±By the way, in the Mevinsky district, the construction of a new residential complex with upper bridges was recently completed.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Kozet was not surprised by the completion. He was surprised a year ago when he accidentally discovered that work there was not only going on for almost a year longer than usual, but it was not even planned to be completed. - How long did they do all this there, four years?


    ¡°Three and four months.¡±


    ¡°Something special?¡±


    ¡°New construction technologies.¡±


    ¡°This explains the increased interest of the City Administration in the construction,¡± Kozet nodded. Passing by, he could often notice employees from the Department nearby: in large open windows, on roofs, on an alley that runs right along the border of Mevinsky with a couple of neighboring districts. Always in shape, but they didn¡¯t do anything. How, however, everything turned out to be simple.


    ¡°I flew there yesterday,¡± Everdin explained and suddenly smiled sadly. ¡°Still, things are shaping up interestingly ¨C it seems like the school year hasn¡¯t even started yet, but there¡¯s only more work.¡±


    ¡°You are, after all, one of the representatives of the faction,¡± Kozet smiled sympathetically, and then asked with interest. ¡°Is this even worth it?¡±


    Everdin laughed quietly.


    ¡°Yes. Even though it takes up a lot of time, it is worth it.¡±


    He said this with the same intonation with which Keriz spoke about his research.


    They talked for some more time. Mostly it was the latest news from the world of medicine and science. Everdin briefly complained about how busy he was with family affairs this year, but it didn''t go beyond a light mention. All Kozet knew about his family was that, theoretically, he had once been married. The topic was never touched upon or developed. Round trip.


    When Kozet was about to leave, Everdin, putting his glasses back on at the same time, as usual, only waved his hand at him to close the door behind him.


    Once down in the teleportation room, Kozet left the tower and went to his apartment.


    When he entered the building of his faculty and there was only one floor left to the library, Kharin flew out from around the corner towards him. Kozet dodged, and his friend, flying forward a couple of meters, frantically waving his arms, trying to slow down his fall with a contour, still could not resist and stretched out on the floor.


    A short gesture, and the abrasions on the chin and palms smoothly healed. Kharin stood up, clearing his clothes with the next gesture, and turned around to check if he had knocked anyone down.


    ¡°Hello,¡± he noticed Kozet. He watched him mockingly. ¡°Already back?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Kharin smiled, walked up and hugged Kozet tightly.


    ¡°Glad to see you.¡±


    ¡°Everdin asked what we plan to present at the competition.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s still time,¡± Kharin pulled away. ¡°Let''s discuss ideas at the end of the week. You just returned, and Helen hasn¡¯t seen you either. But I have something.¡±


    ¡°Where is she, by the way?¡±


    ¡°But I have no idea,¡± Kharin suddenly threw up his hands. ¡°Yesterday she was still here ¨C we had dinner together. But today, no longer,¡± he thoughtfully took out the screen. He chuckled. ¡°I haven¡¯t written anything yet. Maybe some things have come up.¡±


    ¡°Got it. Then it doesn''t matter yet. Then what is your ¡°something¡±?¡±


    Kharin took out sheets of paper fastened with a temporary outline, waved them in front of his friend, put them back and handed him a file with the same contents.


    ¡°This is a rough description of how the network works for now. I made approximate cost calculations and calculated the efficiency.¡±


    Kozet quickly leafed through the document and after a few minutes replied:


    ¡°So far, I see a replica at the exit,¡± he waited for the continuation.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what I took as a basis,¡± Kharin confirmed. ¡°We will just need to modify it a little to pass the plagiarism check.¡±


    ¡°Don''t want to do much again?¡± Kozet grinned.


    ¡°But of course,¡± Kharin agreed without hiding.


    ¡°Will not work. This topic is already taken.¡±


    ¡°Then how about taking our last year¡¯s model as a basis, quickly modifying it for a specific substance and starting to study its effect on the body?¡± suddenly it dawned on Kharin. He wasn''t very upset. Apparently, I expected that I was not the only one who found such a simple topic. He quickly took out the screen and enthusiastically quickly opened last year''s presentation to his friend.


    ¡°An option,¡± Kozet agreed, after thinking. ¡°We will need to look at new articles and, based on this, choose our substance.¡±


    ¡°Here! And also we have a gifted one,¡± he smiled broadly and pointed at himself with his thumb. ¡°Moreover, he is a seer. And not-gifted,¡± now two index fingers pointed at Kozet. ¡°Here goes our objective information. After all, it wasn¡¯t for nothing that we spent the whole last year fucking with this fucking Swig[1]</a> model!¡±


    ¡°I believed that our efforts were not in vain,¡± Kozet exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm.


    ¡°You just don¡¯t want to admit that we could have chosen something simpler and not spent so much time on it.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Kozet agreed without a drop of embarrassment. - But it was fun?


    ¡°Funny?¡± Kharin asked in mock surprise. ¡°No-no!¡± he grabbed his face. ¡°I didn¡¯t have fun when I had to miss that party! I was sad! Okay, though,¡± he instantly calmed down, crossing his arms. ¡°Yeah, you''re right, it was interesting.¡±


    ¡°You know that we can screw it up, right?¡± Kozet clarified.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Kharin nodded frivolously. ¡°But if we do everything right ¨C whether we screw up or not ¨C it won¡¯t matter. We will have all the necessary calculations and the simple conclusion will be the temporary impossibility of creating our thing. Like, they screwed up, but that¡¯s how it was intended.¡±


    ¡°Well. Then it''s decided. I discuss it with Everdin and go approve the topic.¡±


    Everdin just grinned at Kozet''s statement but said nothing. Ulyana also approved of the topic, although Kharin mentioned a similar reaction - she also had fun. Kozet was not surprised by this reaction. He himself understood perfectly well that it was unlikely that they would be able to go further than corporations had been able to do in several decades. But the experience promised to be interesting.


    Before the start of the elective, the guys approached the curator of their group.


    ¡°Professor Relvel, Kozet and I decided to take part in the IYM[2]</a>.¡±


    ¡°Everdin asked me to warn you,¡± Kozet explained. ¡°We will conduct research on artificial blood using a customized Swig model.¡±


    A slight smile appeared on the teacher¡¯s lips. Relvel raised her head from her papers and nodded curtly.


    ¡°Fine. Then I will expect brief reports from you every month. If any difficulties arise, come and I will send you to someone who can help.¡±


    The guys thanked her and went up the nearest stairs near the wall. On the first row, right in front of the professor, sat two of their class. The second, third and fifth, also the last, were already almost completely filled not only with doctors, but also with guys from other faculties.


    The fourth, where Kharin decided to land, dragging Kozet with him, was half empty: as Kharin explained, about a week ago part of the temperature control system in this hall broke down. Since there is still a lot of time before the start of the school year, there was no hurry to repair it. Therefore, the row where the breakdown occurred remained noticeably overheated.


    But this did not bother either Kozet or Kharin at all. As, apparently, did several other guys from this row.


    Kozet glanced around the room and, making sure that Helen had indeed not arrived, took a place between Kharin and several empty tables.


    ¡°Will you come to see me in the evening?¡± Kharin asked, repeating Relvel¡¯s outline. Almost half of the class had already passed, and the professor decided that it was worth moving on to practice. ¡°I recently received new tapes, but I haven¡¯t sorted anything out yet, and I wanted to ask you to help me.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you only ordered tapes?¡± Kozet asked incredulously.


    ¡°Okay,¡± the friend didn¡¯t try to make excuses,¡° not only that. ¡±If only they wouldn¡¯t have asked. There are a lot of things there that...¡± Kharin clearly didn¡¯t know how to say it. ¡°In general, I need them.¡±


    ¡°For what?..¡±


    ¡°Helen turns twenty this year. I want to start a party. I already talked about this with Ulyana - she gave the go-ahead, and Charlie also agreed to help us. I''ll show you everything in the evening.¡± he assured.


    Out of the corner of his eye, Kozet saw the door silently open. A girl wearing a blue sweatshirt entered the audience. Monica - that was her name... friends? Last year, wearing sparkling skates, she flew off someone¡¯s balcony on the fifth floor. And four minutes later one of the doctors from the medical unit was next to her. Not a rare incident, however.


    Kozet remembered her, however, not for this reason - her eyes seemed to be illuminated from within with a cold red light. The Head of the Faculty of spacers also had red eyes, but if that one had albinism, then this girl clearly had a different reason. It looked like one of the examples of the effect of the Gift on the body - Kozet had read about it in the Keriz library a couple of years ago. It was someone''s reference diary with notes about the Gift''s research.


    ¡°Professor Relvel, I¡¯m sorry for distracting you,¡± the girl began quietly, drawing attention to herself. ¡°Ulyana sent me. She needs Harin Avriel.¡±


    ¡°Kharin can be free,¡± Relvel said without interrupting the circuit.


    Kharin looked at his friend in surprise, shrugged his shoulders, put the screen in the pocket of his tight trousers and went downstairs.


    Monica said something quietly to him. Kharin took out the screen again and as he walked, already leaving the audience after her, he began to quickly type something. A notification about the message appeared on Kozet¡¯s screen - Ulyana had the opportunity to show him something new. Well, his friend will probably be free by evening.


    After a couple of days, Kozet was free again. And one. You could go up to your room and read the latest articles about Swig over a cup of coffee. Yesterday a new issue of the monthly magazine of the Medical Association was released.


    However, having risen to the fourth floor, Kozet noticed a young man in a dark gray cloak standing at the window. He irritably crumpled the clue card for freshmen in his hands. The schedule for the first days was written on such cards, indicating the classrooms and the address of personal apartments.


    Kozet was usually not known for altruism and was not eager to communicate with newcomers. But something about it grabbed him. And Kharin was now with his mentor, and Helen was missing in the city again. Besides, the school year hasn''t started yet. In general, why not?


    ¡°Lost something?¡± he approached the guy. He turned around and tried to smile. It turned out wrong for him. He himself seemed to have already realized this, and now he looked as if he was trying very hard to control himself.


    ¡°My own apartments. By the way, could you help me? Number 4.156.S.?¡±


    ¡°S?¡± Kozet clarified.


    ¡°Yes, S. Is something wrong?¡± the freshman squeezed the card harder.


    ¡°This is building M.¡±


    ¡°Can you show me where S is?¡±


    Kozet hesitated. He came up himself. Nobody asked for it. And something about this guy grabbed his attention. But he just couldn¡¯t understand ¨C what?


    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s go,¡± he smiled weakly at him.


    exhaled barely noticeably .


    ¡°My name is Kozet,¡± he decided to introduce himself. ¡°Faculty of Medicine, in whose building you were just located. Sixth year.¡±


    ¡°Are you graduating?¡± the guy clarified before introducing himself, ¡°Jimi.¡± Spacer.


    Kozet nodded silently.


    They went down to the first floor and were now walking along the corridor that surrounded all the buildings. Now the park was on the right side. The freshman looked at the tower either in admiration or simply in surprise.


    In awkward silence, having passed two buildings, they stopped at the same staircase.


    ¡°The Spacer Corps,¡± said Kozet, stopping. ¡°Then you go up to the fourth floor and look for your room.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jimi said with undisguised relief, looking around the garden with interest. He then took out the card and began to walk up the stairs.


    This Jimi left behind a strange aftertaste, the reason for which Kozet could not understand. As if he was missing something. Something in his behavior was familiar to Kozet, but he just couldn¡¯t understand what.


    <hr>


    [1]</a>Swig - slang. SWIoG - Substances with an Impact on the Gifted; SWIoG group


    [2]</a>Annual competition ¡°Inventions of Young Medics¡±. Young people ¨C graduates, students, those undergoing residency. After completion of internship/residency, access to these competitions is closed.

 Chapter 3. Monica

    Moving the books open to the right pages to the side, Monica pulled out the original drawing. She turned her gaze to the notebook in front of her and sighed tiredly - the calculations again did not add up.


    ¡°Well, fuck it...¡± the girl leaned back in her chair, throwing her head back - the sun was shining outside the window from under the clouds. The weather is normal in these parts. Today was a completely ordinary, exactly the same day. She stopped counting the days a long time ago. The time has long passed when she was guided by the schedule by day. Now, rather, it was the schedule that helped her determine what day it was and what week it was.


    Monica jerked forward and stood up from her chair. The heels of the boots hit the concrete like metal.


    We need to visit Jonah. The curator isn''t particularly busy right now, is he? The holidays aren''t over yet? Well, it doesn¡¯t matter - he will find time for her.


    Monica put the drawing into the spacer pocket on her shorts and picked up the board standing next to her. Having buttoned the open one under the throat a light jacket to the waist and turning the cooling power on the lower suit up, the girl left the room.


    The sunlight hit her eyes. She winced. The Academy was warm in any weather, but today... Today was especially hot.


    Although those around him apparently liked it. The students were gathering in an indoor park, and parts of the suits had apparently had their cooling circuits turned off. Monica could not say anything about those who did not have this useless backlight.


    The particularly crazy ones didn¡¯t even button up their undersuits all the way. What a moron you have to be to voluntarily increase your chances of accidentally dying outside the home, especially at the Academy. Fucked up, what else can I say...


    Truly, thermoregulation is one of the greatest inventions of mankind, Monica thought slightly irritably, walking past another open window from the corridor leading into the Academy.


    The tall windows that reached to the ceiling offered a view of the park. In the center of the park there was a teaching tower. The tower, like the Academy itself, was created from some kind of durable white material. Seeing this for the first time, for some time Monica even tried to figure it out, to find out what it was. But there was no exact data about this construction anywhere. Yes, so many people took part in the construction of the Academy that after so many years it is no longer possible to find out what happened here. At least not for her. One of the sponsors was the Council itself, and one of the main contractors was the Northern Center construction company. She didn¡¯t have any acquaintances who could look for information for her either here or there.


    Regretting those attempts, she glanced at the tower out of the corner of her eye. Suddenly her attention was attracted by a figure that suddenly rose from the ground. Monica slowed down. Eyebrows raised in surprise.


    Professor De-Lassi? He said that he would return only in a month. Any changes at the faculty? It will be necessary to ask the guys from the spacer department to see why their extremely punctual Head suddenly changed his plans so dramatically. Although, this will only benefit her - she can try to catch him again and ask him about the aerodynamics of the board. His fingers involuntarily squeezed the cold model.


    She started this project last year. Then it was credited to her in unfinished form - everything was more or less, but it worked and was not bad for a freshman. This year she could have started doing something else, but bringing this board to the appearance of a copy had already become a matter of principle - she had been a fan of Double Wings for several years, studied on the enchanting one, and still had not made herself something even remotely resembling copy! Unthinkable!


    Marlin repeatedly helped her create the physical base of the board - during testing of prototypes and contours, test versions were constantly damaged. They repeated this so many times that today she could make her own foundations without much difficulty.


    Before the holidays, she agreed with her supervisor, and he allowed her to continue the same project for this year. However, the condition was the creation of not just a functioning board, but a working board for everyday use. Now, no matter what the guys from other faculties say, creating a device that works stably for at least one month, or one that works for at most one week - you know, a very significant difference.


    Marlene... Monica involuntarily smiled, remembering her. Their acquaintance was completely accidental - last year, Marlene suddenly showed up to Jonah while he was studying with Monica. As she later explained, apologizing to the girl, she decided to give Yona a surprise.


    It turned out that she and Marlene had been dating for several years. But for him, her sudden work here came as a complete surprise.


    Monika''s acquaintance with Yone was completely unremarkable - one fine day, when the girl was sitting in the recreation room, her attention was attracted by a short red-haired man in a yellow suit. At that moment, he had already walked past her several times with a confused look, looking around as if looking for someone. As it turned out later, he was looking for the Head of the Faculty of Mechanics. Yone then decided for some reason that the Head would be here.


    When the redhead went for another lap, Monica politely stopped him and asked what was the matter. There was something about him that was enough to make her look up from the latest scientific journal article and decide to approach him. Yone, as he introduced himself, had a pleasant, soft voice. Although there was some uncertainty in his gestures, he gave the impression of a man who knew exactly what or who he was looking for here and why.


    After some thought, Monica mistook him for a senior student - maybe he was looking for a curator or one of his friends. And without thinking twice she tried to either make friends or suggest dating - the girl no longer remembered what exactly.


    Yone was then embarrassed and somehow laughed it off - only then Monica realized that it was all about Marlene. And somehow their conversation turned out that the next day she was already sitting in the work apartments of Professor De-Shelder and listening to explanations of the work of some new circuit of her newly appointed curator.


    Approaching his office, Monica knocked. When a muffled, bored voice came from inside with an invitation to come in, the girl did not keep her waiting.


    Yone was lying on the sofa by the window to the left of the work table. Papers were again scattered on the table, and Yone was again glued to the screen.


    Now his office looked like a typical freelancer''s living room: educational books lay in several stacks on the floor next to the table. Lying next to the professor, also on the floor... Monica let out a laugh. The curriculum he left unattended.


    Some sheets were even peeking out from under the sofa. Instead of cabinets, shelves were glued to the walls in outlines, in a strange order: some were empty, some were already bursting with the number of things piled on them. Only additional contours kept them from falling. Round lamps hung from the ceiling on long threads.


    This was one of the few places at the Academy where Monica felt at home: what could be better than sneaking from the bedroom to the kitchen at two o¡¯clock in the morning, in the dark trying to silently push aside with her foot another stack of things that had not been put away from last week magazines?


    This office was the only one she had ever visited at the Academy that had fabric curtains. The professor used them as a board with reminders - all covered with sticky notes, some notes and sketches of contour connections. Dark parquet floors, walls the color of summer foliage with swirling patterns and yellow curtains against the wall.


    Carefully, trying as much as possible not to step on the papers, Monica approached Yona. Using the toe of her boot to slightly move his legs and placing her board on the floor, the girl sat down next to him.


    ¡°Yone,¡± she began, leaning forward so that he could see her from behind his screen, ¡°I have one question here, and I would like to consult with you.¡±


    Yone turned his gaze to Monica.


    "Is something not working out again, or is it a new idea?¡±


    "The calculations don¡¯t add up ¨C could you look at what¡¯s wrong with them?¡±


    ¡°Show me,¡± he sighed and turned off the screen, placing it on the floor next to the sofa.


    The girl took out a drawing and several bound sheets of writing. Yone gestured to lift them into the air and pull them towards him. Monica showed exactly where the problem arose. Yone looked through the sheets for a short time, checking the calculations, and finally smiled indulgently.


    "You''re using the wrong circuit. Yes, they are very similar and in most cases there is no difference between them. But not in your case - the one you use cannot stably keep a person on the board. You will need to replace it and count everything again. Even here,¡± he pointed his finger at a detail from the drawing, ¡°a controversial point arises: these links can interfere with each other¡¯s work - I would advise spreading them a greater distance or somehow delimiting them,¡± Yone folded the sheets together and gave them back to the girl. ¡°Overall, everything is pretty good so far. I think if you continue in the same spirit, by the end of the year you may well have a good copy. In the future, maybe you will somehow improve it, bring it to one of the companies that produce them - you will get a very powerful argument in your favor. Unless, of course, you even want to work there.¡±


    ¡°Doubt that,¡± Monica put away the papers and smiled broadly. ¡°Thank you. I don¡¯t even know what would I have done without you.¡±


    Yone smiled back at her slightly, nodded and picked up the screen.


    Having picked up the board, she just as carefully made her way to the door. Before going outside, she turned around - Yone looked away.


    Going out into the corridor, the girl motioned for the clock - it was approaching lunch. Monica went down to the first floor and walked along a long straight corridor to the dining room.


    The dining room was the third largest in the Academy: the first was the library, the second was the recreation hall on the first underground. From above, the Academy looked like a circle - the dining room was located at the outer wall and passed through all the buildings - the only room with only two walls. The tables were delimited by movable white lattice partitions, which students moved at will: by additionally surrounding themselves with a soundproofing circuit, they created a secluded place to work, or, conversely, by moving the tables they arranged various team meetings or meetings with the whole group.


    During the day, the room was illuminated by sunlight through the panoramic windows. As in most of the classrooms here, the glass went up to the ceiling. As elsewhere, it was possible to activate solar shading on individual windows - on sunny days like today, Monica constantly used it.


    When it got dark outside the window - many small light bulbs lit up on the ceiling with muted light - the ceiling became like a starry sky. For brighter light, students could attract the turned-off spheres floating in the air and activate them by adjusting the brightness.


    Monica walked up to the table standing close to the glass, threw the board onto the chair and fell into the next one, activating the blackout. Rising up on her elbows, she pulled the interactive plate - the menu - towards her. It was with its help that the students chose their food: they selected the desired dishes, confirmed their choice and waited for the circuit applied to the tabletop to work. Thanks to it, the selected food was automatically teleported from the kitchen to the table. As Monica found out, it was prepared in advance by the cooks. She had a chance to meet one of them - it was Charlie who told her how this system works and explained the principle of operation of the connection.


    Now there were few people in the hall - after all, there was still a whole month left before the start of the year. Two large companies on opposite sides of Monica were actively discussing something, covered with one-sided domes. At the smaller tables it was quieter: someone was working, someone was glued to the screen, one small company was marking something, perhaps its approved project.


    Looking boredly at the other students, she turned her gaze to the nearest entrance - a guy was just entering the dining room. It was clear from his frowning, twisted face that he was very annoyed about something and did not hide it at all. A gray camping cloak was draped over his shoulders. Did he just arrive?


    Having looked around the hall, he walked past Monica, pulled off his coat by the collar with one hand and threw it at the table next to the girl. The raincoat thudded against the glass and fell onto the back of the chair, sliding onto the seat. Exhaling irritably, the guy plopped down next to him. But he immediately sat down abruptly, leaned forward strongly, and instead of moving the chair forward, he collapsed with his whole body onto the table, propping his head with his right hand and, with a gesture with his left, pulling the interactive plate towards him.


    He had dark brown hair down to the middle of his neck, below the beginning of the collar of his black second suit, but above the dark purple collar of his summer jacket. The long bangs were divided into three thick strands: the central one ran between the light gray-brown eyes and fell almost to the tip of the neat nose; the side ones elegantly framed the thin oval face and curved towards the central one on the cheeks. Thin long fingers nervously drummed on the table. Her mentor before the Academy had almost the same ones - for some reason she remembered.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Casually flipping through the menu, the guy finally chose something for himself and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. ¡°Awesome, of course,¡± she involuntarily read her lips. He exhaled silently and took out a card from his pocket, which Monica was surprised to recognize as a freshman clue card. With sharp movements, he turned it over several times, as if trying to find something other than two addresses, and with the feeling of a man who had long ago realized what hole he was in, perfectly aware of his own powerlessness, he threw it onto the table. Then, nevertheless, wrinkling his nose with displeasure, he pulled it back and put it away.


    Monica''s desk glowed with a yellowish light, teleporting her a cold mint lemonade and a chilled fresh tuna salad. She looked again at the newcomer - he chose hot tea and carrot cake. Strange choice for lunch.


    He smiled tensely at the cake and began to eat it slowly. However, before reaching halfway, he suddenly stopped and, with the same frozen smile, began to slowly, irritably break it into pieces. With such rapture, as if this particular cake was the culprit of all his problems.


    Monica picked up her board and, leaving the salad unfinished, walked over to him.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she greeted friendly. ¡°I''m Monica. From the third year of charming. I see you have some problems? Freshman?¡±


    He paused the destruction of the cake and, without releasing the fork from his hand, raised his head in surprise.


    ¡°Yes. How did you guess? Name¡¯s Jimi,¡± he realized he didn¡¯t introduce himself, gesturing to pull out the next chair. ¡°Spacer.¡±


    ¡°That card that you later removed,¡± Monica answered, dropping down next to her. ¡°What happened?¡± she nodded at the cake spread on the plate. Jimi looked at his hand in confusion. Got it. He put his fork on the table and answered with a nervous grin:


    ¡°My apartment is completely empty and I have absolutely no idea where to get the furniture.¡±


    ¡°Furniture?¡± she asked again incomprehensibly. ¡°Ah,¡± Monica remembered. On the first day, she also was quite perplexed at what was happening - on the map on the Academy¡¯s website one could find the general structure of the buildings: a library, a dining room, classrooms, approximate options for arranging apartments and other things that interested applicants. But most of the premises were not on the public map - no wonder he didn''t know.


    ¡°The Academy has, let¡¯s say, a warehouse ¨C that¡¯s what we call it ¨C and the furniture is stored there,¡± Monica explained. ¡°That¡¯s it. You just come, choose what you need, and in about an hour they will teleport it to you. Therefore, after ¨C a couple of hours it¡¯s worth taking a walk somewhere so that something doesn¡¯t accidentally fall on your head or grow into, say, your leg. Incidents...¡± she hesitated awkwardly. ¡°Happened. Academy, of course, has very good medical personel,¡± she immediately hastened to reassure him, ¡°but the feeling when an object is partially stuck in you is, to put it mildly, not the most pleasant. Therefore, you wait an hour or two and then arrange it as you want. By the way, since you haven¡¯t even started yet, I advise you to pay attention to floating furniture - it can also be placed in the air - such high ceilings just allow you to swing in height.¡±


    ¡°And where it it? This warehouse or whatever it is?¡± Jimi asked impatiently, having forgotten about the cake and his recent irritation.


    Monica smiled. Jimi looked... interesting.


    ¡°I can show you. Right now. Let''s go to?¡±


    ¡°I would be very grateful,¡± he jumped up and immediately asked in bewilderment. ¡°Oh, well, there¡¯s nothing like a catalog there? Are they more convenient? To simply ¨C what about food? ¨C he nodded towards the table.¡±


    Monica stood up.


    ¡°No,¡± she answered with a chuckle. ¡°There is no such thing. You come in person and personally evaluate the size and contours ¨C if it fits or if it doesn¡¯t fit. This, of course, is one of the Montis Academies, but what you said - catalogs with full-size three-dimensional visualization - are produced by furniture manufacturers. The Academy''s warehouse... In general, the local leadership did not bother with such things.¡±


    Having gone down to the first underground, they walked along the same main large corridor as on the floors starting from the second. The only difference between them was the complete absence of windows - their place was taken by illuminated stained glass windows with images of landscapes of Montis.


    Stopping at a large automatic door, Monica placed her palm on the scanner on one of the doors, which was located in the standard place of the handle. The device read the identification number and the doors opened, letting the students inside.


    Jimi followed him in, looking around. He didn''t look surprised, but he still had a clear look of amazement on his face. At first, he even hesitated, but quickly got his bearings and hurried after his new acquaintance.


    The place, unofficially called a warehouse at the Academy, consisted of large rooms completely filled with various furniture, materials and decor. Here students, and not only them, teachers were also frequent visitors. Here everyone could find almost anything: from wooden beams, Monica knew people who used them as supports under the floor of a makeshift second floor in their personal apartments, to a portable safety net for unsafe experiments in a work classroom.


    Objects were located literally everywhere. They filled the space of the warehouse as much as possible, which is why it looked like expensive projections crookedly superimposed on each other: now the guys were just passing under the lime velvet sofa and armchair. The chair was suddenly surrounded by a white spherical outline, and it disappeared, teleporting, apparently, to someone¡¯s apartment.


    Monica stopped, turning around Jimi.


    ¡°This,¡± she gestured around the room, ¡°is the warehouse.¡± You go and choose what you like. Each item has a small panel in a visible place - you can easily find it. You touch it with your hand with an identifier, and the item is added to your list. There are screens throughout all the rooms where you can also look at your list using an identifier - this is where you finally select what you need and send it where exactly you need it. Sometimes something breaks here,¡± she pointed upward. Just at that moment, one of the newly appeared tables finally cracked and fell in two. The halves were instantly engulfed in the porta-light. ¨C But here it¡¯s normal. The furniture here has a much smaller margin of safety, as it is intended for temporary use. Constantly updated and also constantly broken. Well, you know, especially in work classrooms - there is always someone accidentally breaking something. If it breaks, just come down here and remove the item from your room. That, it seems, is all.


    ¡°Thank you very much,¡± Jimi breathed out with relief. - Listen, do you have mail?


    ¡°Of course,¡± Monica nodded, unable to contain her chuckle. Who doesn''t have mail? ¨C But I suggest it¡¯s better to exchange accounts in Echo. Are you there?


    ¡°Yes, there is,¡± Jimi took out the screen, and they exchanged contacts. K. Klaus.


    ¡°K ¨C does your last name start with K?¡± Monica asked.


    ¡°No,¡± he grinned. ¡°K is just K. My last name is Mor. So, and you are, what, Nay? Or Es?¡±


    ¡°Intri.¡±


    ¡°Monica Intri,¡± he drawled. ¡°Sounds familiar.¡±


    ¡°We haven''t crossed paths before?¡± Monica suggested. It seemed to her that she had already seen Jimi somewhere. Perhaps they had once crossed paths at some event, but she didn¡¯t remember it at all.


    ¡°No,¡± Jimi disagreed with an incomprehensible confidence. ¡°Definitely not.¡±


    ¡°Then I don¡¯t know,¡± she shrugged. ¡°Okay, then you get used to it here, we¡¯ll talk to you later.¡±


    Smiling widely, Monica saluted him, turned on her heel and quickly walked towards the exit.


    Voice. Jimi''s voice was almost the same medium timbre as her mentor ''s - suddenly it dawned on her. Only higher. Okay, the girl threw her head back with a sigh, burying her hand in her hair, touching the top of her forehead with her wrist, it¡¯s time to admit that she really already sees Dorian¡¯s ¡°name¡± everywhere.


    In the meantime, we need to move on with the project. Time doesn¡¯t wait, and who knows when her supervisor will decide to go on vacation.


    When the holidays were announced, he remained at the Academy, thanks to which Monica could continue working. And since Yone now has more free time, he can devote more of it to her. And the more time she has now, the more time she will have later.


    The flame curled into a spiral. Rippling smoothly like sea waves, it formed a ring around Michelle. The girl threw her hands up, changing the variable in the formula. The fire gathered into a thin stream and struck.


    The shield sparkled. Liquid fire hissed and dripped onto the floor. It froze in darkening splashes on the white floor. Nika added an outline - the shield was covered with a cloudy film. From the center of contact with the fire, white stripes began to spread across the shield. They emitted steam that flowed out and wrapped around the flames, and slowly extinguished it. The stream began to thin out.


    Michelle discarded the non-working outline. She rolled to the side, avoiding the steam rushing towards her. Activated the anatomical shield. She pushed off from the floor and, starting a new connection, rushed towards Nika.


    Nika dropped the shield that restored transparency. She pushed up and to the side with one hand, and with the other weaved a pattern that launched Michelle into the air. At the same time, another one, who created a thin air thread, tried to knock down the bundle.


    Michelle created a temporary plate underneath her. It pushed her higher and collapsed as soon as her feet left the surface. The thread wrapped around Michelle''s arm, blocking her mobility. But the connection was already completed.


    The shock wave knocked Nika off her feet and threw her several meters away. Her fingers traced dark grooves on the floor, slowing her slide. This moment allowed Michelle to get rid of the rope and weave a new bundle.


    The air became heavier and fell on her opponent, who did not have time to rise. Nika fell to her knees, strengthening the shield, weaving contour after contour. The air around Michelle''s ankles turned to steel, holding her in place.


    A thin arrow of water flew out from under the floor, stopping just under Nika''s chin. The steel shard stopped at Michelle''s neck.


    ¡°Stop!¡± a voice came from above. The girls deactivated the contours. We returned to the center and shook hands with each other, smiling contentedly.


    ¡°Okay,¡± landing silently, Hansel jumped down to them. ¡°There are places where the performance is lame, but overall it¡¯s very good. Michelle, you need to train yourself to maintain pure elemental control for a longer period of time and work on your own speed. Nicolet,¡± the professor turned to her, ¡°I advise you to pay more attention to materialization - you are doing well, but due to the use of air in your instruments, the ligaments are slowing down. I''m not suggesting that it should be replaced by anything else, but controlling clean air and using it as an intermediate material have major differences. You should not assume that since you manage to manage the thread, the same will happen with materialization. Regarding materialization,¡± she turned to the stands, addressing the rest of the students who were watching the progress of the battle from above. ¡°During the battle, we are not the creators. We do not set ourselves the task of creating a real subject, we have the task of materializing the temporary weapon and using it.¡±


    Hensel returned to her seat and nodded to the next couple as the girls went upstairs. Monica rose from her seat and walked over to Michelle.


    ¡°It was cool.¡±


    ¡°But not fast enough.¡±


    ¡°Can you use additional strengthening on the muscles?¡± Monica suggested.


    ¡°Already. Increasing it even more may no longer be safe for constant use. No, Mon,¡± she shook her head, ¡°Professor Lebel is right ¨C I need to train more.¡±


    ¡°You can handle it. There¡¯s still time,¡± Monica tried to cheer her up, patting her on the shoulder.


    ¡°I hope so,¡± Michelle sighed.


    ¡°Will you have any project work this year? Or is it just a practical exam again?¡±


    ¡°The project..¡± Michelle thought about it. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. Perhaps there will be several people who will undertake to do something more or less working, but you yourself know how difficult it is. Me personally, no. I will be preparing for practice. After all, we didn''t come here for inventions. Wrong specialty. This is not the kind of work that will happen later.¡±


    ¡°It turns out that those who take on projects at your department want to develop new types of combat circuits?¡±


    ¡°It turns out that¡¯s true,¡± Michelle agreed. ¡°Like I said, most of us won¡¯t need this. I have a classmate who wants to do sniper stuff, but she also doesn¡¯t touch projects now - she says that she doesn¡¯t care about finishing her studies in space studies later. By the way, how''s your board doing?¡±


    Monica sighed. It would be wrong to say that Michelle is easier. But every time, comparing her exam and her project, it seemed to the girl that it was not equivalent: project work took more time and required more preparation.


    Most of the militants, for the most part, did not even need to visit the library, let alone spend many hours searching for the necessary information - they only needed to practice connections, improve their reflexes and repeat what they had learned.


    ¡°Enchanted. While there is time and Yone is not so busy, take it easy, but when school starts, there...¡± the girl waved her hand. ¡°I can handle it.¡±


    ¡°What can I say, you are cool. I don¡¯t think I would have the patience to work on one thing for even a year, let alone two.¡±


    Michelle constantly said that she could not study in any other specialty. It was difficult for her to focus on one thing for a long time - she wanted movement, action. Monica could probably understand her. And although, unlike her friend, such endless energy and unbridled optimism were completely unusual for Monica, this did not prevent them from having a pleasant time together.


    ¡°We should start teamwork this year,¡± Michelle suddenly said.


    ¡°How is that?¡± Monica didn¡¯t understand. In her department, everyone worked individually throughout all years of study; she read about this even before she arrived here. But she wasn¡¯t too interested in what was happening with others.


    ¡°In the Security Bureau, each person is part of a team, the composition may change, but the fact that these are three people complementing each other is always unchanged. They all have different specializations - this allows them to perform work tasks well. In the Bureau, the team always has one spacer specialist and one fighter, and the third depends on who is more suitable. But we will work with our classmates, so practice in a standard team will be after graduation.¡±


    ¡°But why do that?¡±


    ¡°I can assume that before the beginning of this year we will be given the opportunity to choose specializations, and further training and division into threes will take place taking this into account - that is, we will definitely not be completely the same now.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t already,¡± Monica grinned and asked in surprise. ¡°Didn¡¯t you ask the guys from the third?¡±


    ¡°From the fourth, actually,¡± Michelle corrected. ¡°We are the third. But no. I didn''t ask. I read about this, but now I don¡¯t remember exactly when this should happen - before the start, or in the middle of the year.¡±


    ¡°So, you have already decided?¡± Monica asked impatiently.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Michelle laughed quietly, expecting such a reaction from her friend. ¡°I want to be an operative.¡±


    ¡°And why am I not surprised?¡± Monica smiled.


    ¡°Look,¡± Michelle suddenly pointed down to the court where Anthony and another girl were fighting. Monica didn''t remember her name. ¡°He¡¯s going to become a criminologist ¨C it¡¯s quite possible that we will overlap at work. That would be very nice. He has good technique, and if he really chooses that specialization, I think he can go far.¡±


    ¡°Who are you talking about here?¡± Nika came up from behind, leaning her hand on Michelle¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°About Anthony,¡± Michelle smiled.


    ¡°Ah,¡± she said understandingly. ¡°Anthony. Yes, he¡¯s not bad,¡± Nika turned her gaze to the court. ¡°By the way, he won. However, this is not surprising.¡±


    Anthony and his rival stood nearby and listened to Hensel. Professor Lebel analyzed their competition and made recommendations. When she finished with Anthony, he looked up, found Michelle and waved at her in a friendly manner. Michelle repeated his gesture. Anthony smiled at her before turning to Hensel.


    ¡°How long have you known each other?¡±Monica asked, looking at him with interest.


    ¡°Two years. We also met at the Academy.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? Looking from the side you can''t tell.¡±


    ¡°One day, we all went out into the city to have fun, closer to night, groups of similar interests formed, and Michelle and I ended up with Annie. He talked very interestingly about new toys for close combat on the hunt, and Michelle, as we know, was also very interested in this then. So they started talking, and then...¡±


    ¡°We turned out to have very similar interests,¡± Michelle interrupted. ¡°That¡¯s how we became friends later.¡±


    ¡°Somehow this...¡° Monica shrugged uncertainly. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound very plausible.¡±


    Michelle leaned closer and said quietly:


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s true. I''ll tell you later, the story is actually really funny.¡±


    ¡°What are we whispering about?¡± Anthony¡¯s clear voice was heard nearby ¨C the next couple had already started training, and he was able to approach the girls.


    ¡°About our acquaintance,¡± Michelle answered. ¡°Not the very first time, but the one after which we became friends.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± said Anthony, understandingly. ¡°I¡¯ll be interested in listening too. Only, you¡¯re not here, are you?..¡± he nodded towards the other students.


    ¡°Of course not. By the way, do you have any ideas where we could go after a lesson?¡± Michelle asked him.


    ¡°To talk?¡± he clarified, waiting for a nod. ¡°Yes, well, I know one place. I myself go there from time to time when I go out into the city. You will like it,¡± Anthony assured them, smiling.