I, the pirate (chapter 6)

And then came the same day. I was given the last instructions and I hit the road. In principle, one should have expected to go to another city. The most important was to withstand the exact time. I had to get into the auxiliary control center and turn off the protection at 11.30 pm exactly.

I arrived at the station in advance so as not to be late, because I rarely traveled and could not immediately find, fail to figure out how and where, especially in an unfamiliar city. I checked in my pocket the tickets that I had been given on the eve of Simon. I was glad that I had successfully found the entrance to the trains, I looked around at the vast territory. It was damp and overcast, which is why the square surrounded by the station and protected by a high roof gave the impression of a gloomy rocky gorge somewhere in the Paleozoic period. The noise of the crowd and the announcements that occasionally cut through it echoed through the air.

People flowed busily to the tracks through the turnstiles, putting some tokens to the readers. I got a little worried. I did not have a token! I saw in the distance the composition, standing on the 11th path, which I needed. Here he stretched along the paths, and over him a huge clock, and time of departure. But how to get there? Semyon apparently was sure that I knew.

When I went out to town a couple of months ago, of course I didn’t pay attention,
how people get inside. All the turnstiles were open to the exit to the city. Tired passengers, apparently who had done this way many times, poured into the station building and spread out on opposite sides. I looked at my watch and felt the panic slowly begin to grow from the depths of my consciousness. 15 minutes left. Well, one must burn on such nonsense.

I rushed about between the boards with information, looking for the eyes of the tablet, among which came the "sale of tokens". In the side where the arrow pointed, there were long queues at the box office. I looked around helplessly. Do I need to run to them now?

“No,” I calmed myself. - It can not be that, having a ticket, would have to stand behind some token. There must be another entrance. ”Having lost a few minutes trying to question other passengers, I decided to turn to a policeman who was standing confidently in the middle of the hall. He was not from the right-wing police, but the feeling was no better. After a pause, considering the ticket, he looked at me favorably and showed me the passage in the far corner.

At this point, I definitely did not look like a spy. It turned out that the tokens were for commuter trips, and I had to get around the other side. With great relief, I went to the train, found the car I needed and took a seat by the window.

On the way, absent-mindedly looking at the passing by fields, I thought about the sheets that I found in the table. How did he know that he was helped to escape? Why was he so sure that these were friends? Maybe he knew some of them personally? Here Pasha also helped me, and I have known him for many years, but how do I know who he can be associated with, and what is his business with them? Given his position, who knows what deal he had to make in order to stay afloat. Although I know about his position only from his words. Everything around me is just words, and by the way, it's time to get busy.

I arrived at the place on time. I walked a little along the street, sat on a bench, glancing at a large office building, in the basement of which was my goal. 23:15 It's time. I approached the entrance and, with a sigh, entered through the glass door, which boldly drove off to the side. As it was in the photo, which was shown to me, on the right at the table one guard misses, and then only for the view. I walked briskly forward, trying not to look around, as if I walk every day. Just as I caught up with the arch that automatically scanned the person, the phone rang at the remote control guard.

I flinched. This MUST be a coincidence. Without changing a step, I continue my way, and turn left into the elevator. Floor minus 2. Doors, having clicked slightly, were closed. The elevator moved smoothly down. 23:19 There were no photos of the partisans beyond this place, there was only a plan.
I knew where to go, but with the cards I had a little difficulty. I know this from the time when I played the antediluvian shooters of the last century, which were thrown away at sales at a ridiculous price.

Coming out of the elevator, I involuntarily stared directly at the camera, which hung near the ceiling in the corner of the corridor. Of course, it was marked on the plan, but it still came as a surprise to me. Hesitating a bit, I moved on. It is good that the guys warned that after my “visit” they will be able to erase all the recordings of these cameras, and no one will see my frightened grimace. The corridor is slightly shabby, light walls and carpet. If you walk along such a corridor every day, it seems to be perfect, but every little thing was noticeable to me. Worn threshold, a little broken plastic on the corner. Handprints that push the door every day in about the same place. The ceiling was lower than I imagined. Good thing I never suffered claustrophobia.

23:23. That's the right door. I spend a card on the reader of the castle. Green light bulb. I turn around, in the corridor of no one. I enter. A small room meets me with a cozy smell of working equipment. Behind a transparent wall with another door there are racks, to the right of the entrance there is a terminal and an armchair.

I am waiting. I look at my watch again. 23:26. I take out a sheet with the commands that must be entered. Why does not leave the feeling that I forgot to do something? Turn on the terminal. A few minutes before the desired time log in. I start the management console. Everything goes according to the instructions. 3 minutes left.

I enter the first few teams, checking with the paper, so as not to be mistaken. I’m picking up the last one, which should be done at exactly 23:30. Half a minute. Keep my hand next to enter'om. Seconds never hurry. They know how to take shape in eternity. They know how in an infinite universe at a precisely planned point a little man sits at the console and waits for them. Only they do not wait for anyone.

Enter. Quiet soft key click. It is done.

I have always been neat. I did not forget to close the console, turn off the terminal and turn the chair in the same direction as it was. After closing the door, I go back down the corridor. So tempting to run, but we must go quietly. There may be people here, but I am still far from the exit. The elevator, mockingly in a hurry, lifts me to the surface. I walked past the guard, who was now staring at some magazine, especially slowly, as if this could help me in the case of the Fail. And here I go out into the street. Slightly accelerating, I diligently take steps on the sidewalk, knowing that I need to endure some more. I turn the corner, still not believing that everything is over. And finally run. I’m running, unable to get rid of the feeling that I’m catching up, obeying the stubborn action of adrenaline. And having driven away all the convoluted phrases, usually generated by my annoying inner voice, far into the corners of consciousness, only one word sounds inside: “It worked! Happened!"

And then something strange began. Violent spots appeared in front of his eyes, slightly ringing in his ears. I shook my head, covered my eyes with my hands and rubbed them. Did not help. In addition, it is now unclear where the music sounded from. It became clearer, as were the spots that gradually formed into the inscription “game over”. What is it, I'm crazy? I turn my head: the city is around, rare passers-by, passing cars - everything looks as usual, but wherever I look, right in the middle, as if the inscription “game over” is burned on the retina.

The struggle in the mind did not last long, and at some point I finally understood what was happening. Here the captions went as usual.

Yes, I played well. But now you have to inspect to the end, with all the thanks and thanks. Until you finish, the brain does not switch to reality. A bit annoying, but in fact I have never been against paying tribute to the authors.

The names scrolled smoothly before his eyes. Information about the real world gradually began to emerge in memory, and that other world, in which I spent, as it seemed to me, months, was gradually packed into the field of memories, taking its place among other games that had been played. Well that's all.

I disconnected the pins and, smarting, got out of the capsule.

Of course, in life such a guerrilla war has not reached. Bardak was a couple of generations, but then progress took its toll: the exchange of media content was free. Like the game - copy and play as you want. But the subscription fee for full immersion rather big. Capsule costs money, consumables, maintenance. No money - play regular games, listen to ordinary music. But what is the interest in this? There are devices of past generations, cheaper, there are even Chinese counterparts. True to get into this, I personally would not dare. Glucodrome is still the same. I somehow did not get a violation of the integrity of the person. But some try. Because the real game they will never have a chance.

I have. I am a promising employee in a reliable company. Looking around my home environment and the things that were so simple but necessary and comfortable, I tried to imagine how to live without all this. And I had a good imagination. I cringe. Poor people.

On the other hand, it is easier for them. They are not threatened with Raushalzheimer's syndrome. And I also do not threaten, as long as I have money for an amplifier of reality. If it were not for him, I would have long remained in the capsule forever. It happened to many who tried the hellish typewriter in the early years. Getting out just to eat, sleep and make quick money, and even easier to steal, they like drug addicts immediately dived back. The reality is so boring in reality.

I went to the closet and touched the smooth surface of the green sphere resting on the shelf. Over time, everyone will get bored. Feelings are dulled, impressions from anything after many repetitions are not the same. In general, the “amplifier” is just a name, and it does not enhance anything. He gives the opportunity to perceive all the sensations, as if for the first time.

Although ... who knows these crooks that they came up with. The principle of operation of the device is strictly classified.

I ran my hand through the wallpaper. I knew the roughness of their texture to the touch, I saw their pattern many times, but as long as this green ball is on the shelf, they can never bother me. Therefore, I can calmly play new games, confident that when I return, I will gladly dip into my chair again, and I will not want to jump into the converter from despair and dullness of life.

And the developers are great. How do they do it? After all, the game was calibrated as if specially for me. I am a lone programmer, and I love to fight against copyright. But with pills and seizures, they still went over, and you can go crazy. It will be necessary in the next time to clarify that this was not.

I wonder who played for Pasha? Had he really done the whole game that he was suing his book? Maybe a lawyer or a true writer. And then I fell on him, and then probably interrogations by the police ... yes, to each his own.

Well, we will wait for the continuation, I will probably play. If they do, of course. We'll see. I turned off the power and neatly folded all the wires in the package. Stupid habit to keep all the details as in the sale, I can not get rid of. The clock on the far wall overlooking the garden showed nearly 12.

That day comes to an end. Coming out of the house, I descended from the porch to the grass. Unperturbably, in the velvet silence, the sun was setting. At the edge of the road in the trees the leaves began to rustle, and I felt the smell of the evening wind, heady like the first time in my life.