I am a pirate

Still, my eyes are red or not? It seems not so. Maybe it should be? I carefully looked at myself in the mirror. No, still red, though not so much. Maybe you should not check your mail and go to all these sites already in the morning? Well, they will write something there, but I will not read it, so what? No, every time I wake up and first thing there. Oh…

I walked away from the mirror and moved into the kitchen, reluctantly moving my legs. Strange, I just woke up and was already tired. Maybe this is old age? And, nonsense, I'm not that old, we'll live.
')
TV mumbled the morning news. As usual, one negative, all sorts of disasters, accidents, and criminal news from the field of copyright. In Japan, some dude went to the square, where it was full of people, began to shout something and wave his arms, of course everyone huddled around him. And he suddenly took the laptop out of the bag and showed everyone the "illegal content". Well, of course, the special forces arrived quickly and destroyed it on the spot. Kamikaze horseradish. Why did he do it? I do not understand. After all, people could suffer. Fortunately, the government turned a blind eye and did not arrest anyone who accidentally saw the content.

I went advertising, where smiling naked girls used something under a cheerful little music. Though I do not remember what I kill, maybe some shampoo or something like that. I just looked, the girls remember, and what did they do? Well, to hell with them.

I finished breakfast and began to get ready for work. And the obsessive melody sounds in my head. While dressing, I involuntarily moaned a few notes and immediately stopped short. I remembered how a few days ago, Sergei, at work, apparently forgot himself and began to whistle something. And then our old horseradish Petrovich suddenly glancing at him gave out:

- What are you whistling like? Own or someone else's? What article will you follow?

No one laughed at all. All tensed, pretending that they had not heard anything, and Sergei nervously started. He looked around in agony, as if people from right-wing police were already standing behind him. All of them were there, and everyone, of course, understood that the old man had grown up at a different time when the death penalty had not yet been imposed for violating his rights. But now for such jokes you can get in the face.

In the meantime, I went outside and walked to the bus stop. Among others, there was a guy in a heavily-colored jacket, in the depths of which there was apparently a player, since his ears were plugged with headphones. The rest of the waiters, even though they were suspicious, glanced at him, but could not do anything, since “one must go there.”

At this point, the guy vibrated some kind of gadget, because he began to make convulsive movements, like attempts to get a phone from somewhere and answer it. As a result of these movements, one earpiece jumped out of him, and we heard, though weak, sounds of something similar to music. A woman standing nearby screamed. People rushed scatter. Well, of course I did too.

Having run away away, I gradually slowed down the run, stopped at the advertising stand, caught my breath. Still, my reaction is still nothing. It has passed. Here is a damn young people, they go with the players, they are not afraid of anything, still - they will have nothing. Minors are not executed, they postpone the execution of the sentence to 18 years. Yes, and then, as he knocks 18, the court is going again and there you look for mercy, we have a humane society.

And why did I go to work? We had to stay at home, everything would have done without problems. Remote development, as it used to be called. I, too, go to work, this is true remotely. And at home everything is at hand, everything is so to say the benefits of civilization, and food is generated right on the spot. But on the other hand, if you do not walk, so the legs can atrophy. Home exercise machines certainly achieved unprecedented efficiency, but who uses them? So we go to work from time to time, sit down for a while, in the old fashioned way, let's talk and for dinner we disperse slowly. But today I have had enough, I have already received my portion of communication with reality. She went into the ass such a reality.

On the way home I caught myself thinking that somehow I hadn’t been in a good mood for a long time. Come on, not everything is so bad. It seems that recently I heard a good joke somewhere, and I even laughed, yes, I remember, laughed. And this week, for sure, I saw a good film on Wednesday evening. It rarely happens, but it was the same. Well, at least the film was better than others, and almost every advertisement I could almost miss. Of course, they are trying to insert it on the most interesting and important point, the screensavers combine and make the transition between advertising and film imperceptible, so that everyone can watch completely, trying not to miss the film itself. But I'm not that simple. I turn off the sound and turn away, and then try to catch that very moment. I think I have a glimpse of this I look out of the corner of my eye for a second, and immediately to the side so that my slop will not be poured into my subconscious.

By the way about slop. Thinking on the go, I almost all the way looked at the huge billboard hanging on my house. How I hate him. He is so big and it is very difficult not to look at him. Well, here I am again at home.

- So, for the work. What did I do there yesterday? - I asked myself, and plunged into the mouse work on a set of buttons, checkboxes and other friendly interfaces unknown to anyone.

Some time has passed. Work involuntarily, as usual, moved into the process of spitting into the ceiling. The keyboard (which almost nobody uses anyway) was shifted to the side, and I drove the mouse around the screen, thoughtfully circling the elements on it by eights and other intricate figures.

I don’t know for how long, but at the moment of enlightenment I suddenly understood why the matter had stopped. I needed information on one of the functions, and I pulled the link where you could usually find information like this.

The link opened, and only I, as usual, lazily, began to study its contents, as from somewhere on the side a window emerged, in which the screen saver of one of the most famous media studios appeared in the most brazen manner, and then the frames from the movie were sent. Of course, I immediately closed the window, thinking with disgust, why this unexpected advertisement got out in full screen, but suddenly a figure emerged from the subconscious: the total duration of the video, which I somehow had time to notice. The file was found in the cache quickly, and when I saw how it was called, everything that I could get cold went cold.

It was NOT ADVERTISING. It was the movie itself.

Heck! Heck! Heck!
Maybe it is accidental, and no one noticed? I will delete the file as it should, without a trace (already deleted), I will erase it in the logs, I'm not some kind of housewife. Where else could the info remain? Most likely, the provider fixes everything. At least it can. So, they will find out that the file was downloaded.

Heck! After all, he was all the time going to set up the firewall himself so that everything was right, and every time he put it off, was lazy. So dolenyas. Where did this bastard come out?

I clutched my head. She did not fight against the wall, although she really wanted to. At first it was empty. Well, that is, it is not completely empty, but nothing sensible and good was not there. And then the memory, although thoroughly eaten by sclerosis, but still not completely disconnected, gave me an answer.

Content terrorists. Substitute, give people content so they are accused of violating rights. Right, I heard about it, but I couldn't believe it. I somehow always thought that these rumors about terrorists were idiotic fabrications. That these people really were criminals, downloaded and watched movies, hoping that they would not be found. Even when acquaintances of some acquaintances told that they literally took one such “intruder” in the neighboring district, and that he could not do this, and they set him up, I didn’t really believe that this could be. And in any way I could not think that this could happen to me.

Maybe still, no one will know about it?

And suddenly I noticed that a notification was already shining in the corner of the screen. Post office.

Tomorrow at 9:00 you must arrive ... The illegal use of objects was registered at your site ... etc.

What to do? I'm over.

If it was a film of a small studio, one would hope for something, and so everything is a tower. And you can not prove anything. One way out is to run now and find who framed me. On the other hand, if I do not give up, I automatically turn out to be “malicious” with aggravating and I generally have the right when trying to escape ... like that kamikaze ...

Called tomorrow at 9. There is still time. We need to find at least something. I connected the network again.

The sun was setting. The streets, slightly wet from the rain, gleamed in a strange light yellow color. But I did not see it.

It has been many hours in convulsive races through the wilds of web pages. Yesterday, such crazy transitions from unverified links seemed to me a terribly dangerous thing. And now - there is nothing to lose. It always seemed to be just to look - and you can go to the secret community, they certainly are. Someone should know what kind of terrorists they are and why they do it. But nothing can be found, as in a nightmare everything slips away, and I am drowning in the swamp of useless information.

What is it? The hands are shaky. It feels like someone is choking me by the neck, and this makes my eyes dark. Well, that is, it does not darken, but I seem to see the screen, but I don’t understand anything on it. I took out the pill box. Took one. Smooth so pleasant to the touch, green. Swallowed. I remember when it started, the doctor said it was okay, it was stress, overwork, I wrote out the pills. And at first it seemed that I was clearly better off of them. I looked suspiciously at the green circles, filled with plastic. Or maybe they are only worse? But I myself read the instructions, there are no side effects, and there is no getting used to it either. In the internet the same is written.

I hardly got out of the table and collapsed on the sofa. For some time I just lay in the void, listening to strange sounds and voices in my head, and scraps of some thoughts, not particularly sure if my thoughts are or not.

Woke up in the middle of the night, it was still dark.

Pasha! Right, he has connections, he will help me. I went to him, and the path was not long. I get there apparently only in the morning. When I do not appear at 9, they will first of all go to my home and work. Of course, if they immediately involved the police, they would have found me very quickly, but I hope they will not be in such a hurry, they know that I have nowhere to go. So I still have time.

How many times have I heard these words: “in case of an emergency, take the most necessary things and leave the building”. "What is this, the most necessary?", - I thought, looking around with horror. And time passed. It seemed that the group of capture was already going to the house and with every second they were getting closer. Without inventing anything, I ran downstairs and took hold of the door handle. It was scary to open it. Suddenly there waiting for me? I slowly pulled the door toward me. Silence. The city was asleep, and in the half-dark yard it was quiet.

That's right, I tried to persuade myself, they wouldn’t exactly look for me before morning, they don’t need it. And all the more so there is no need to guard in the dark. Still, it seemed that a bright light was about to turn on, and armed people in masks would run out from all directions. With this sensation, I got into the car and drove cautiously onto a half-empty street. I was surrounded by a native, but unusually unfamiliar night city. Flashing lights in the darkness always caused such a feeling of calm, but now they were ominous, like the eyes of crocodiles slowly floating in a poisonous river.

Pasha has always been a solid author. He is a writers guild, I heard he even personally knows some rightholders, a serious person, in general. Surely he knows what to do. Well, here I am. I had to leave the car, and far away from the place, because it would be quickly found.

Pashka kept calmly calm. He immediately understood why I came. We stood and looked towards the window, as if nothing had happened, and I just went to chat. He spoke first.

- They're talking about you in the news.
- Yes? And what they say?
- A knowledge worker, computers. Of these people, and the resulting criminals. Colleagues say that you have behaved strangely lately. Your doctor confirmed that you had mental problems. Everyone nods their heads: yes, yes, that's how it happens.

He suddenly looked at me and lowered his head. Took a deep breath.

- I can not now, I can not help you. Do you remember Gregory? He hit me with my last book. Type I used his copyright texts, and the correlation of combinations of letters is more than the permissible limit, in general, you understand yourself ... I really hope that I can get out, but the money all went to court. I do not know how I will live, if only to be free to stay.

- Give at least a trans-card, I will leave the city. I will be spotted with mine. You say that I climbed to you at night and stole.

“Good,” he quickly agreed, and went to the office to get a card. It became noticeable that he was nervous. Why, I'm a dangerous criminal.

“And one more thing,” Pashka began, leaving the office. Then he came closer and continued in a low voice, - there is one chat, I don’t know the address, but you will find it. It is called this way ... - He went to the shelves of books, and showed me the word in one of the names, then the second book, the second word.

- There should be guys who know more than me. But I didn't tell you that.

With the Pashka card, I got to the station and, trying not to look suspicious, got on the first train I had come across. So it will be harder to find me, there will be no logic in choosing a direction. I didn’t go very long, I had to go somewhere, but I couldn’t have time to lose either. All the way thinking about waffles and football. This is me joking. Of course, I could not think of anything else, except about who had set me up. And most importantly, why? Went through all the options that I could imagine. I have no enemies. No one crossed the road. An ordinary person, I live, I work. Only these terrorists are left, and I am a random victim. Often looked around. The passengers seemed strange to me. It seemed they all were terrorists and that look, pounce on me. So was my unexpected trip.

The next day, in another city, I sat in a small cafe and waited. I waited for someone to answer my silly and lonely “hi all”. This was the same chat. If only someone was online. Oh, and not just "someone", but someone who really knows what I need. There is little hope, but that's all I have left.

I tried not to look at the cursor all the time, but it was difficult. And so I waited. Appeared response "hi". I don’t remember how I started the conversation, how many people were there, and how I decided who exactly to say who I am and ask this question. The whole conversation consisted of only hints, but it was obvious that they were in the know and if anyone knows about these terrorists, then they are.

I> are you not afraid of being caught?
U2> so we do not do anything illegal)
U1> we sit here just talking about life
U2> this is still allowed))

And here I am in a lichku bad listening fingers long phrase, a cry for help, putting into it the last force compressed by nervous tension of the brain:

I> give me a hint at least someone who these terrorists
I> I will find I will dig out who framed me I need to prove that it is not me
I> need at least some clue who did this ??

And again I am waiting. Waiting for a miracle. He should know, should. I will have proof, it may be difficult to convince them, but this is a chance. A chance to prove that I am not guilty of anything. Not with anything.

And then something happened that I was afraid of all this time. A harsh, harsh voice from somewhere outside said:

"Stay where you are!" Raise your hands from the keyboard or we'll shoot! ”

At this very moment the answer appeared on the screen:

U2> yes there are no terrorists
U2> what have you still not understood who?

I froze in a terrible dream, I see only this phrase before my eyes. I can not move. The shot was some kind of quiet, strange. And there was no pain, just suddenly I feel - the forces leave the body, as if they turned me off, everything floats ... and then the eyes close. I am drowning in the dark and my thoughts are confused, as if I am falling asleep. But really, maybe it's just a dream? It can not be true.

Please ... please ... please ... let it be a dream.

Many times I dreamed of it, I immediately remembered this feeling, as if paralyzed, I understand that I am dying, I am trying to move, but I cannot. Darkness. Eyes closed. I even seem to feel my body, my hands, how they are lying on the keyboard, straining my muscles with all my strength, but I cannot move even a millimeter.

And so terrible and painful, the fear of death: now, here at this moment everything will end. Is it really happening now? I feel only as the body falls aside. Now it should hit the floor. And he is so far away that the feeling of falling captures me completely. For some reason, I remember how I swung on a swing in my childhood. Wooden, with peeling paint, they go down, endlessly. And I still fall, fall ... And suddenly I fall down on something soft.

My eyes immediately open, and I see, right in front of my nose, the trim of the next seat in the train, on which I fell, dozing off. I hurried to sit back. Oh, it's still a dream, but I'm alive, and none of this happened. How many times have I dreamed, but every time until the very end you do not understand that this is a dream. “What technology, eh? That would be a movie like that. Every time you look, and every time you like the first time, ”I thought, looking around.

And here is the bad news: I am still traveling on a train who knows where, fleeing unknown from whom. I looked out the window. In fact, I do not like to travel, and rarely leave the city at all. Somehow I was going to go somewhere, just relax, change the situation, relax. That case presented itself. What an irony. See the world and be shot by right-wing police somewhere in the backwoods.

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