Project "Eye" Part 22

_{Photo: AV Photography}

Under the cut, I will leave a small memo on the characters for those who read in it.

For new readers, inside there are links to previous chapters 1 through 21 , merged into one file in reader formats . Collected all Renat Nasrіdinov , for which a special thanks to him.
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References to the previous parts and appeal to those who see the Oka publications for the first time:

Eye - my personal literary project, the work on which I started in May of this 2015. From a small sketch, he turned into a science fiction work, the chapters of which I post, as I write, on GT.

Previous parts:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21

Those who have not read the “Eye” before, it is highly recommended not to open the spoiler below.

All previous chapters, from the first to the twenty first, in formats for readers:

.azw3 .epub .fb2.zip .mobi .pdf

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A few days passed quietly. Henry no longer pestered Deimos, although he felt his constant presence. The use of the module was also not in vain - he could not sleep properly.

Even when he managed to shut down, his mind was on the verge between sleep and reality. Visions from the past, the present, and, as it seemed to him, from the future, overwhelmed his consciousness with a giant wave every time Deimos closed his eyes.

Pain, fear, anger. Emotions, the feelings of those whose minds were touched by Deimos, when they used the module to start their alter ego in full force, now followed him.

Here is a boy who is beaten on the street for his new shoes; a woman to whom a burial came from a military unit, heartlessly repulsed once in the office and waiting in due time in a pile of blanks; drunken stepfather, pantyhose with his sobbing, and even not fighting off from him, thirteen-year-old stepdaughter; and hundreds more of the tragedies, both small and large, taking place that night among the population of the city. This huge, exalted breathable monstrous organism, which is called "society".

He could stop all this. Reach out to the hooligans and make them flee in horror from the boy, whom they kicked a moment ago, to calm the woman and give her strength to live on, paralyze her stepfather and put a knife into the little girl. He could force the young drug addict to dislodge, who would destroy her own sharp and inquisitive mind with this potion, could make the spineless tyrants stop beating their wives, who do this because they can't do anything more in this life. and the killers start an honest life.

"But why? This is their choice".

Deimos did not know whether it was his thoughts or that Henry, making his way out, spoke to him.

And the longer he remained in captivity of these visions, the more he realized how futile his attempts to change anything were.

- Deimos?

From the delusional dream he was torn out by the voice of Adika and the light touch of the cold female palm on his face.

- BUT? What? - He was disoriented, as if drunk.

“You moaned in your sleep,” the girl looked worried, “something is wrong.”

Deimos said nothing in the hope that she would leave, but Adikia did not even budge, still kneeling next to him and waiting for an answer.

- What's happening? - She asked again.

He rubbed his eyes, as if it could get rid of visions, and, collecting his thoughts, replied:

- Remember, the other day, I used the module?

She silently nodded in response.

“So,” Deimos continued, “what I saw is haunting me, Adikia.” This shit follows on my heels.

- What follows? - She asked.

“The lives of others,” Deimos rose heavily from the mattress that served him the bed, and went to the window, “the fate of those whose minds I touched.” Their thoughts, fears, experiences. And you know what, in aggregate, I feel now?

Adikia understood that this was a rhetorical question.

“I feel desperate, Adikia.” They are saturated with everything: all thoughts, anxieties and even hopes. The people living here, around, in the seemingly prosperous sector of the Capital, are in despair.

- Does it change anything?

“No,” Deimos shook his head, watching the night lights of the city, “only reinforces me with the thought that we are doing everything correctly.”

Adikia got up from the floor, walked over to her comrade and put her hands on Deimos' shoulders.

- Are you sure about what you are up to? I want to say that I feel, even without a module, that you consider yourself already dead.

Deimos just smiled and covered one of Adika’s palms with his own hand.

“This is a sentence, girl, not to run away from him,” he finally answered, “it is quite possible that I died even before the nurse gave me a painkiller.” And maybe then. I dont know.

- When will we take action? Time is running out, she said quietly.

“Tomorrow night,” Deimos replied, “and, I think, we will manage by Sunday.”

There was silence in the room again.

“I'm scared of you, Deimos.”

- I'm afraid of myself too.

The next morning, they had a quick bite, and Adikia took out battle bags for herself and Deimos. It took about half an hour to calibrate and adjust modes, and another hour to check the weapon.

- Why do we fire? - Asked the girl. - I, however, do not doubt your decisions, but still.

Deimos pulled away from the store's equipment for a second and looked at his companion.

“You see,” he began, we should save our strength, and showing everyone what we can do is not enough time. And the gun is quick and clear who is in charge here.

- I do not know, for me, only attracts too much attention.

“I’m sure,” Deimos replied, “that you can take curious glances from us.” You can after all?

Adikia just snorted in response.

“That's nice,” the man continued, “are you ready?”

- Yes.

They moved as soon as it got dark. Deimos and Adikia were still in stock for a while before the start of curfew, and it was not difficult to get lost in the crowd idly wandering around the main streets of onlookers. The only thing that worried Adikia was was the battery of costumes on her back bristling out from under the coats, but Deimos convinced her that no one would pay attention.

The girl's nerves were on edge. They had been walking for almost an hour and with every minute her excitement increased. Deimos, by contrast, remained extremely collected and calm.

At that moment, when she already wanted to ask him where the hell was the casino, they turned and hit the light of the colorful neon sign in Adikia’s eyes.

Deimos stopped.

- Ready? - He asked his companion.

Adikia swallowed.

- Yes, I'm ready.

- You're lying.

- Why is this? - She asked surprised.

“One can hardly be prepared for this,” Deimos replied thoughtfully and began to cross the street.

In some ways he was right. Stripping the ghetto from criminals and other garbage is one thing, and the execution of the high command of the army is another.

***

They raced through the streets of the night Capital on Richard's company car. Several times it seemed to Astree that the colonel was about to send them both to the other world, but he miraculously entered the next turn, deftly turning the steering wheel.

“I never would have thought that someone could drive like this,” the girl said, holding tight to the seat, holding the seat after another turn.

“Driving is my weakness,” O'Connell replied without looking away from the road for a second.

“It has little to do with driving,” noted Astrea, “rather with flying.”

“Yes,” the colonel laughed, “with very low flights.”

Astrea thought she would have to respond to this suicide, but she had to close her eyes - a truck passed right in front of them, and she could have sworn with anything else that five centimeters and they would collide.

"Lucky for me, at the psycho men."

“Colonel, we won’t stop Deimos dead,” she said out loud.

- And no one is going to die. Anyway, in the car, ”O'Connell answered, and jerked the steering wheel to the left.

The car screamed and went off into a skid, and Astraea already had, blessed her life, but, opening her eyes, she discovered that they had stopped. Directly in front of her all the colors of the rainbow burned a casino neon sign.

“We arrived,” O'Connell had already got out of the car and was looking at the building in front of him, “come on, move.”

**

A small mental effort Adikii, and they freely passed by the administrator, the casino security and leaked into the hall.

Inside was smoky and quiet enough. Several guards lazily walking along the walls, scurrying around the waitresses with bottles and glasses on trays and about twenty people in uniform and civil at the tables for poker, blackjack and roulette.

“Honey,” Deimos said to Adikia, “take me chips for everything.”

Adikia absolutely did not understand what was happening.

- What?

“I say,” Deimos repeated just as calmly, drawing the money to her, “go to the cashier and take me the chips.” For all.

“Good,” Adikia took the money she gave her and moved to the window behind her, in which they sold chips.

Deimos looked around, peering at the faces of those sitting at the tables, and moved to blackjack, where the croupier deftly laid out the cards.

- Gentlemen, - he greeted those present and sat in an empty chair, - do you mind?

Five pairs of eyes stared at him disapprovingly.

“A young man,” said a gray-haired, swollen fat, bulldog-like general, “this is a private party and I don’t recall being invited.”

He really wanted to turn and give up on the guard, but Deimos stopped him and made him look straight into his eyes.

“And I think that this is the place for me,” the telepath answered.

He did not take control of the military entirely and now enjoyed his panic attack.

At that moment Adikia approached the table and handed a multi-colored pile to Deimos.

- How many are there? - He asked the girl.

“Almost three hundred dollars,” she answered.

- It will do. Well, gentlemen, let's play? - He put everything that he had and nodded the croupier to start distributing.

The cards were handed out, but Deimos didn't even look at his own.

“Generals,” he said to the two men sitting next to him, “how's your hand?” Are you lucky?

The hall has long been oppressive silence. Even barely audible conversations at other desks ceased, and the guards, who had previously been in the office premises and were not affected by the younger sister, were hurriedly approaching Deimos and Adikia.

“Deimos ...” Adikia saw one of the men take out a telescopic baton and the other shocker. Shooting in a closed room, no one needed.

“Yes, I know,” Deimos answered fervently, but he didn’t even stir, and still continued to stare at the warriors, imposingly, half-turning while lounging on a chair.

When one of the guards was already very close, Deimos jerked out of his chair and, without even resorting to the use of the Oka module, grabbed his arm with the baton raised up and hit the guard in the gut. The man doubled over and wheezed, gasping for breath, but Deimos wasn't even going to stop. He grabbed his head and put it so hard on the edge of the table that all those present could clearly hear the crunch of a breaking nose, and the green cloth instantly dyed with splashes of blood.

Adikia didn’t bother herself with assault and simply took control of the second guard, took out a shocker from his hand and knocked her out of the neck with one short shot.

- What is it, gentlemen? - Deimos bent to pick up a baton from the floor - any problems?

He struck hard on the arm of the guard, with whom he grasped the edge of the table in an attempt to rise to his feet. The man fell to the floor and howled in pain. Without waiting for new attempts to get up, Deimos kicked him in the face, from which the poor fellow lost consciousness.

Convinced that no one else would interfere with them, Deimos returned for his chair, not letting go of the club.

- Well, what are we staying at? - He turned to the military. - Oh, yes, how are things with the cards?

- What's going on here? - All those present were pretty drunk, but the madness of what was happening began to get to them through the hops, - who are you?

“You don't know me — Deimos smiled badly — and you shouldn't know.” But I know you even better than I should have.

He grabbed the nearest uniformed man by the arm and put his palm on the playing cloth, holding his wrist tightly.

“Let's play a game, general,” said Deimos, smiling. - Now, a respected croupier will conceive any card, find it in the deck and put it face down on the table. If I guess what kind of card - I will break your hand. If I don't guess, I'll leave. How do you like the contract?

At that moment, one of the soldiers jumped up from the table and tried to grab the pistol from the holster hidden under the leg, but Adikia instantly seized complete control over him.

“Recklessly,” said Deimos grimly, “don't you hold it?” - He handed the baton to the general, whose hand grabbed, he himself got up from his chair, pulled out a pistol and shot the rebel in the head.

Cheers and a slight wave of panic swept through the hall, which, however, was almost instantly suppressed by the slightly pale Adicia.

Deimos, as if nothing had happened, returned for his chair, took the club from the stiffened hand of the general and again pressed his palm to the table cloth.

“So, General, are you satisfied with the rules of our little game?”

Without waiting for any answer, Deimos nodded to the croupier, who did not dare to disobey him and began hastily to sort through the deck in search of a vending card.

- Well, are you ready? - Deimos turned to the croupier.

He only nervously nodded in response and laid the card on the table on the table.

- What is the probability that I guess the map? - Deimos asked the general, but, without waiting for his answer, he continued, - correctly, one in fifty two. That is, the probability is just how much? Less than two percent?

Deimos tightened up his plump wrist and spread out the fingers of a military man, squeezed in a fist, with the end of a baton on the table.

“Less than two percent, General,” he looked his victim straight in the eye, not even blinking. - There is a peak nine, turn over, man.

The croupier, turning pale even more, although it would seem impossible, turned over the map. It was exactly peak nine.

Deimos gazed at the general to look at the table, and he swung and forcefully hit the military’s arm. The sound of breaking bones and screams rolled through the hall.

- Imagine I won! - Deimos said fervently at the whole hall, looking around to make sure that every one of those present was watching him - but let's repeat! Croupier!

The guy again took the deck in his hands and quickly pulled out the card, and Deimos laid out on the table the other hand of the general.

- Well, what do you whine like a little! - Deimos shouted in his face - now your chances are even higher! Less than a percent chance that I guess again! Croupier! There is a peak ace!

He did not even wait for the moment when he turned the map over and with another powerful and biting blow broke the military’s second arm.

On the table lay a club jack.

- Oops! - Deimos looked at the table, and then at the general, - this is not the peak ace, I did not break your hand in vain! By the way, at your age fractures heal extremely hard and long.

He got up from his seat and took the man whining from the pain by the shoulder.

- Do you know why I cheated? - He asked the military and all those present, - because I think that if you can, then why can't I do it?

Adikia watched the scene. She guessed what was going to happen here, but she couldn’t even imagine that Deimos would let out her dark side, a side that almost killed her and her sister during the first activation. She clearly, as if in slow motion, saw Deimos' arm dropping with the club held in it, how the heavy base of the handle pierces the man's temporal bone and how it falls dead from the chair to the floor.

Deimos just looked under his feet, looked around the hall and several more times, with a force, waving his head, hit his victim.

“Well, then,” he said, straightening, “there is one, there are still seventeen left.”

***

Colonel O'Connell hastily entered the casino door without waiting for Astreya, who had lingered. The first and most unpleasant thing is that the guards did not even react to him: as if the dummies, two tall, tall, unbalanced uniforms stood and looked into the space in front of them.

“The matter is rubbish,” he said to himself, which, however, did not prevent him from hearing this from Astrey who entered after him.

“They are under control,” said the girl, for a moment she seemed to have listened to something and hesitantly added, “under the control of my sister, apparently ...”

“Is Adikia here?” “O'Connell cursed to himself, where are they?”

“Further, in the hall,” Astraea nodded at the door in front of them.

O'Connell without hesitation he walked to the door and pushed heavy shutters.

From the picture presented to him, an unprepared person could have pulled out, but the colonel restrained himself.

Around the hall lay the bloodied bodies of men and women, apparently their companions. Some were shot, the neck of someone was broken, but most were smashed up their heads.

When they entered, Deimos was just finishing. Covered in someone else's blood, he wielded a baton with a stick that slid out of his hands over the head of the last high-ranking military man in this room, who was still showing signs of life. A little further from him, against the wall, stood Adikia.

Deimos struck another powerful blow, from which the poor fellow had his skull smashed, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and straightened to his full height.

Now wiping blood from his face and hands, he looked like some kind of ancient, evil deity, which had just received his own.

- Who is here with us? Astraea? - Panting, but he said loudly. - And someone else.

“Hello, Henry,” said the colonel, “I see you are not sitting idle.”

Deimos looked at O'Connell more closely and recognition appeared in his eyes.

- Oh, Richard! What are the fates? This, you know, as I was told, is a closed party.

O'Connell took a couple of steps forward, which Deimos absolutely did not expect from him: he gave him the order to stop on the spot and not to move, but the colonel completely ignored him.

“Ah, I see you have a trump card up your sleeve,” said Deimos, narrowing his eyes, “I can't hear you at all.”

“Yes, there is,” replied Richard, “what are you doing, Henry?”

“I'm not Henry, not Henry anymore,” Deimos replied, “and I do what I think is necessary, what is necessary.”

Richard looked around again.

- Is it necessary to score two dozen people to death?

Deimos threw aside the bloody and already useless handkerchief and seized the baton more comfortably.

“Yes,” he replied to an old friend, “and they got off lightly.

“Henry,” O'Connell began, but hesitated, “Deimos ... You will go with me.” I know that something is going on and you have some kind of goal, but believe me - it's not worth it.

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Part 23