Who are we? Thriller, short stories - страница 9

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"We've been waiting a long time, we've been informed," the voice said, and went on.

– You, Ruslan Viktorovich, of course, are puzzled about who I am and what is happening, you are tormented by doubts about the reality of what is happening. And what is reality? Do you know that?" Ruslan was silent.

– How do you distinguish your life from a dream?

–Mmm-yyy – aah, – Ruslan mumbled, trying to formulate something clever, starting to realize that he was facing some kind of superintelligence.

– Yes, you are in no hurry, Ruslan. I'm not superintelligent yet, and we're just going to see him, or rather, my confessor. You won't see me in the optical range of the human eye, I'm transparent as glass.

"I see…

– That's what you think. Here we are, and you'll be there, though you might change your mind and go back to the riverbank, a can of coffee in your backpack pocket.

– what? Ruslan said and froze.

Strange thoughts were passing through his head, memories were confused, but his consciousness was becoming clearer, and the desire to find out the secret exceeded caution. As he walked forward, no one answered any of his questions. The voice stopped.

Ruslan walked forward, looking around, but didn't see anyone. He began to remember his life, and his whole life seemed to him like a silent movie, where the director put red pen marks by hand in the script.

He clearly realized that he was very interested in science, as one of the teachers suggested to them to create their own scientific production for obtaining autonomous energy. But Ruslana at this time was more interested in training, he studied at the university half-heartedly and, despite this, he did not have C's in his diploma. Getting a degree without a C in its Department of NuclearPhysics was comparable to getting a red diploma in an ordinary commercial institute. Only five students have received a red diploma during the entire existence of the institute, and this is more than in the 80 years of the university's history, which, however, began as a technical school, but it doesn't matter now.

After walking for some unknown distance, Ruslan saw a hunting lodge, which had a very dilapidated roof, if not to say, the roof was torn off. Next to the cabin, there were a small number of logs that had been cut down and laid out in a row.