Готовый перевод Баффер / Buffer: Глава 4

Chapter 4
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"Hello everyone, good morning!"

All three of my fellow couriers, with sad expressions on their faces, did not share my enthusiasm at all. Orders at this pharmacy were dispensed in the early hours of the morning, and there are so few larks in the world, or lucky people like me, who need hardly any sleep.

"Mikhalych, your package is ready!"

"Thank you, Allochka, you do everything in time!"

I picked up my orders, signed for receipt, and started going through the forms. Luckily, nothing in different areas of the city, and two orders were even within a ten-minute walk of each other.

Right, now my list.

"Alla, beauty, there's talk." I shut the door to the next room with the couriers. "Remember when you were putting together that big kit for those geeks, the 'survivalists'?"

The woman nodded and blinked her thickly tinted eyelashes.

"I've got a customer who needs two of these. But he needs to be able to deliver them by about three o'clock. Can you help me? And personally, make me a six-pack of Feritin, will you?"

Alla picked up the cash from the table and immediately began to assure me that everything would be done. I wouldn't have believed anyone else, but here I was reassured that she would get it together, do the paperwork, and do everything right. She was an exceptionally obliging woman. If she had not been a divorcee with two children, I would have been able to... but no, she would.

Today's orders were added to yesterday's in my trolley bag. I pulled out my tablet and mapped out today's trip, then took turns calling the addresses, only one of them unreachable. Talk to people they love it... and tip.

Once I entered the metro wagon, I quickly dashed to the door opposite, ignored the empty seats, flicked my bag frame, quickly reclined the chair, and immediately sat down on it. Once again, I had to look like a brick when an elderly woman stared at me with indignation: //How is it possible to have a chair and a man on it, but you can't get the man off and sit down yourself?

There you go. You have to have your own.

Pulling my tablet out, I began to wonder what I had forgotten to do today.

The servers have been down for the fifth day now, which means that, given the sluggishness of government machines, it's been two weeks since a wizard roamed the world. The videos in various social media can be passed off as a flash mob, an advertisement, or a leak from a sci-fi animation festival, but it's easier to disable the ability to watch these videos. They have already been disabled.

Blogs!

A quick check confirms that Facebook is no longer available, and so are the VK, Odnoklassniks, Live Journal, and his comrades are forwarded to one page asking for understanding and forgiveness. There are, of course, various forums of interest and communication sites, but the rate of rumors spreading is slower there. In addition, due to the "trunk line accident", only the servers located in the Russian Federation are available.

How would I request, so as not to show that I'm the guy in know?

"Magic in real life" - the search engine came up with two million answers. Hmm, well, that's something to think about. Wait, what do I even want? Magicians are out there. I'm an example of that and not an isolated case. Otherwise, there would have been no such scale of disconnection. But, strangely, the rumors haven't gone out to the people. No one has disabled the phones yet, and the internal networks won't be able to block them. Can ISPs be forced to shut down their local servers? Damn, that's what I don't know about all this computer shit! They probably can. There has been talking about all traffic being monitored. Shouldn't intelligence services have some way of controlling it?

So, screw all the requests. Otherwise, there's a bot sitting on some channel, checking everything, and sending my data to the major with tired but kind eyes. All he has to do is push a button, and they come after me... nonsense. Can't count 'em all, can't check 'em all.

What would I do if I were writing a book about something like this? I would make a list of everything related to games and push it. A few addresses most relevant to the subject would be left under control. Idiot. Three sites on the download, and there's no way to cansel it.

So what to do?

What can I do? A wizard is a 'buffer'. He is a support class. It strengthens allies with spells and weakens enemies. Well, it's also a "taxi" for allies around the game world, with the help of a "Gate".

Gates. Yes.

Suppose that, sooner or later, everyone who has played with toys learns to do magic. What would happen? Chaos. A year for sure... Damn. I missed the stop!

I had to get up and walk to the door, thinking about what was happening while standing.

There will definitely be all sorts of turmoil for a year, and then something will work out. If not all but many gain power, there will be a major shift in power and priorities, accompanied by rivers of blood. If one out of a hundred, the State will begin to subdue the new power. And the worst-case scenario for me is if one out of thousands gains power.

The Inquisition.

Though it is unlikely to be called that.

I raised my hand, my fingers trembling. I had to reach for the pills, and, under the sympathetic gaze of an older, well-dressed lady, I swallowed without water. It was all right, it was an emotion, and I could get over it.

Two weeks. Maybe I had a gift then, too, just hadn't had a chance to discover it. And the same thing could happen to someone else. If they played Potteriana, they might not realize they were a wizard without a wand. Him. They. And a state that will pretend to have everything under control.

What will happen in religious countries when someone shows the miracles that have come true? To hell with magic. When the panicking mobs start looking for someone to blame, then the big blood will start. The bureaucrats are right to be nervous, oh. They're right!

Now I had exactly two choices: either I would, as I had decided this morning, go down to the countryside, or I would join the state structure and try to become useful so as not to get killed. Hell, if I had known a fortnight ago what I know now, I would have done so! But now it's too late. Now they'll start looking quickly for a way to suppress a force like mine without sentimentality. After all, their asses are in danger. For now, I can't fall into the hands of those who are looking for a way to stop it all. To the countryside, then.

Alla will put together a set of medicines. I will have a year's supply of Feritin. It's a pity it doesn't keep for longer. I would have bought some more. Food for today I will collect for half a year. Mobility will be provided by the gate. I should think hard about where to set the stones because I couldn't change the list of spells, and I'm sure it will be the same with the list of portal stones. The house in the village... five kilometers from the highway on a dirt track, a semi-abandoned farmstead from which our kin once emerged. By the way, relatives... no. Later.

I was pushed by a woman with a child, and I had to apologize and move my bag.

The house, then. The one where my father and I lived for two summers must have fallen apart by now, but I'll find a place to live. There are a few cottages there, the owners have thoroughly conserved them, and the place is good. So...

A check of the train timetable showed that an express train was leaving for those places at 8.22 pm today. So - bookings... Why did I go to work in the first place? I'd have called in sick... although I will. As long as I cling to the pharmacy as I cling to my "disability". Maybe I'll get something from the state? There's no hurry to cut loose ends. Orders. I'll be done by four, take the medicine home by five, and buy some more food on the way. 7:00 to the train station. At eight, I'll leave for the historic homeland in a coach... maybe I should go to the attendant. So I don't have to register and save some money? Let's think about it. I get off the train at nine in the morning. It'll take me half a day to get to the village, then another half a day on foot. Hmm, that's a lot of time I'm wasting, and it's the weight of... of life.

What if I put one stone near the town? Then I place the stone in the morning, go home, do important things here while the gate is recharging, and then jump there in the morning the next day, get to the village, and choose a house. Or, if it's no longer possible to live there, look for another option.

I can't stay in the capital, they will notice me. I have to hide. I'm not the only one with a 'vision of magic', am I?

The flow of thoughts was interrupted by a customer calling to ask why the eleven o'clock delivery was not yet at her place at ten o'clock. I apologized and explained that I was on my way. Customers are not always bastards, they are sick people, and it is a sin to be offended. And if they ordered it for a child, they can even eat their brains out, no matter how you negotiate.

In this case, the woman was really sick, waiting impatiently for her pills and hiding her embarrassment at the sight of a panting, guilty looking me behind an ostentatious dislike, which didn't stop her from giving a fifty tip.

After calling back to the next customer, I pulled my bag and started thinking further.

I have to hide.

What is there to live on? My savings are enough for a year. I don't need much, but then what? When it becomes clear that there is magic, when will the magicians start to be rewritten and forced to work for the benefit of those who used to call themselves 'society'?

Gate. I like being a courier. That's my thing. I don't want power or adventure or satiated contentment. Just a job that interests me personally. That gives me a piece of bread, a roof over my head, and a pack of Feritin.

A courier, then? A Gate in a flat, a Gate in a village (I have yet to think where exactly, maybe not in the village itself?), a Gate in two or three provincial towns.

Ukraine? What's in it for me? Although there are munchies... Crimea? No, Stavropol. A town of twenty thousand. And there's a gateway near the sea. The Caspian Sea? No, it's not. So Kuban and somewhere near Odessa. My mother had some relatives there, but who will find them now? But it would work as an excuse if they asked.

There are now seven Gates.

Europe? I don't have a Schengen Visa, and I don't have time to get one. And what am I doing there, among refugees and other Pakistanis? Though I have to go to another embassy or two to find out if they refuse me, it's another call. Should I put a stone in Finland? Then Romania, where there's food and oil. Oh! Oil! Where's the cheapest petrol we've got, and where is it always available? I'll have to look it up on the net.

Where else can I go without a visa in the coming days?

Thailand? Do I need it? Sun, air, sea, cheap food.

A lot of people with a different mentality. Islands. Asia. Screw it.

Where would I go?

Far East, Kamchatka? Isn't there a lot of fish and not many people there? It's also beautiful, they say. Hmm, it will be fun in Japan when ordinary Japanese schoolchildren suddenly get magic! Although they have been preparing for that for the third decade now... maybe that's their fault?

Kamchatka is left behind. I have to sort it out.

The Baltics. And what's good there, apart from Riga balsam? I would like to go to Norway, but I don't have time anymore. The Caucasus... Petrol, tangerines, shashlik, and problems. No way. Where can I go without a visa? Turkey? OK, I'll think about it. Kazakhstan? What's the point of going there? Siberia? It's a bit cold, but again, I have to think about what's useful there.

So, tomorrow, from Voronezh I will take the gate home. I fly to Petropavlovsk, then take the gate again and train to Kuban again. It's warm there. There's food and Cossacks with rifles. Back to Voronezh, going to the village. I must buy a small generator. Otherwise, I'll die of boredom in the village, and buy it today, while they are still available. Why in the village, though? I will have a base there, and I can live anywhere, now I have exactly one step to the flat from anywhere in the world!

Why the hell did I find out about this so late? Three points per continent. I would have spent all the money and taken more loans, but I would have made a network of gates all over the world! And they can look for me anywhere to get the money back!

My stomach rumbled. What should I eat? It was past noon, and I hadn't had lunch yet.

If I were a Warcraft wizard, I'd go and visit the current mayor! I'd kneel him down in the middle of a fireball-ravaged office and stare fondly and ask, "Why the fuck are all the gluttonous tents closed?" And he'd be like, "It's in the interest of the citizens! It's all in your best interest!" And I'm like, "What good is it if there's no food and no jobs? Liar, you dog!" And before he can justify himself, another fireball, right in the forehead. And go out without looking back at the charred corpse, and ask the secretary where the town council is, and ask them where they're looking. And then find bastards who are building new metro stations and ask them why they have got lifts for disabled people but no toilets for passengers. It's a pity we can't ask those who built the first stations under Stalin... well, except to find a necromancer.

All jokes are jokes, but there will be such romantics of justice. They will go and ask the bureaucrats who do not understand anything. The official just signed a paper, strictly following the requirements of the moment, and what will happen as a result of this signed paper is not their business, and it is not right to kill them. So, stalls be swept, and the employment rate will drop by 0,02 %. Is it a lot? You can hardly see it in the report. But behind those two-hundredths of a percent, there are thousands of people's lives... But they can't be that stupid. There must be some sense in the fact that the entire city has vacant lots instead of stalls. I'm a fairly sane person, and a thought occurred to me - what if one of those people who lost their job because of the official's orders gets power? We need to get out of the city.

But I still need something to eat. I turned my head... Coffee-how... No, Coffee-Chaos. And the logo, though in familiar colors, still depicts eight arrows diverging from a circle. Creative, but now they can wait for a visit from the real Inquisitors. Once inside, I fought off the usual silly questions from the girl, looked at the menu, and left. Pay the cost of one delivery order for one cup of coffee? May the warp creatures eat you for a markup of 500%! I had to go to the basement shop and buy a loaf of bread and a pack of kefir.

I bought five kilos of flour at the same time. There was still one last order left, and the bag was empty.

As I sat at the bus stop, I kept looking at the people around me.

There they are, the people. People just like me. They breathe, they feel. But I already know that their lives have changed, and they still believe that everything is the same. Some of them may have even more amazing abilities, but they haven't shown them yet. Some of them will die before they know what they can do.

And the world is still... pre-war.

I suddenly understood what the people who wrote about peace before the war wanted to say. Such peace and quiet in the midst of all the hustle and bustle, and tomorrow it's all over.

A call snapped me out of my contemplation.

"Mikhalych?"

"Yes, Andrei. Sorry, I couldn't stop by today. Busy morning."

He grumbled but agreed that I was also a human being and could sometimes let him down.

Last order. A regular customer, a severely elderly man (not an old man, you have to understand here!), I didn't even bother calling in the morning. He's always at home, always ready to say something wise or just fun.

I was met at the door to the landing by his son, Arthur, a plump, unshaven Southerner with a pair of gold teeth.

"Mikhalych? Don't need medicine. My father died yesterday. Go away."

I wasn't even surprised, as if I had been expecting something like this all day.

"I'm sorry for your loss. He was a nice man."

"Nice?" Arthur looked up at me with a heavy stare. "Not good? You should have called my father "pretty" as well."

I didn't take my eyes off him and looked back. Arthur crinkled and looked away, chuckling something. Well, yeah, it's from sickness my look pressing in, and not a good one. Sometimes it's inappropriate, and sometimes...

I hardly knew him, Arthur. Maybe he was a good man, to you, to the family, that's for sure. But he was an old man, who lived a long life, so some would call him bad. No offense.

The man clicked his rosary knuckles and waved his hand in agreement.

"For me, it is a nice one. Once a month stop by to see a smart and strong man, to have a word with him, to see that the pills are helping, to be happy. It's a pity he's dead. It is good that there is someone to remember him by. Didn't he say he had eleven grandchildren?"

He nodded mechanically.

"Let me pay the order."

"Do I have to? You just throw those pills away. I'd rather take them to the pharmacy. It'll help someone."

Arthur, still keeping his head down, agreed.

"Okay. You... here, take this." He handed me a rosary. "My dad said, "Give mine away. Let them remember." You remember. Take it."

I carefully took the gift.

"That's it, go."

And he closed the door without saying goodbye.

Mm-hm. Courier work... different people, different situations. It happens.

It was a good thing I was able to talk him out of it. Arthur's a hotheaded man. He could have kicked me out.

Slipping the rosary into my pocket, I pulled out my mobile phone:

"Alla? How was my order? That's good. I always knew you were the most charming and obliging woman I've ever known! I'll be right in."

Two more boxes in the bag, good thing I have a big one.

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Переводчики: Camrad_RIP