Project "Eye" Part 25

_{Photo: AV Photography}

I could boldly call this part 24.5, but we will not confuse chronology. In any case, the final is close.

Under the cut, I will leave a small memo on the characters for those who read in it.
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For new readers, inside there are links to previous chapters 1 through 25 , merged into one file in reader formats.

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
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24

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-fifth, inclusive, in formats for readers:

mobi, epub, fb2.

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When the checkpoint remained fifty meters away, Deimos again turned to Adika.

“Stop,” sounded at the girl’s head.

The telepath's intrusion into Adikia's mind was growing stronger, and Deimos knew that he needed to hurry.

Here, once again, he saw what was happening with the eyes of his companion: thin, but strong hands on the steering wheel, a glance darting over the frozen soldiers of the checkpoint, glancing at him, Deimos, sitting beside him.

- What is it, old man? “His alter ego, the perverted form of Henry Johnson, still sat in the backseat.

He accompanied them all this time: starting from the day Deimos killed several of his brethren through recklessness.

Henry walked along the streets of the city next to them, he raged at the casino and urged Deimos to hit harder, but not to kill army dogs too quickly; had his will, he would have tortured them all night. Henry convinced Deimos to kill Richard, because he could interfere with him, but so far he was not in charge, except for curses and tricks, he couldn’t do anything - Deimos did not allow him.

But after the injection of EP-22, everything got worse. It seemed to the telepath that his hallucination began to take on physical form. In his mind, he understood that the soldiers in the headquarters had opened themselves, at his command, but his eyes saw something different. Henry with a knife in his hands kills the guard. Henry, with a knife in his hands, kills headquarters workers, filling the corridors with rivers of blood. Henry helpfully dumps the body of the person on duty from the chair and kindly points out the vacant seat for Deimos.

A flashing, double-faced picture of what was happening was driving him crazy a second time.

Where is the line between reality and hallucination? When will he no longer understand what is happening around? And how will this end?

“How will this end?” Thought Deimos, with effort shielding his own thoughts from those around him, “Adikia will put a bullet in my forehead.”

“Or they won't,” said Henry, “why are you so sour?”

"Fuck off," Deimos snapped.

- What? - Asked Adikia, turning to him in the chair.

They had almost stopped, and she didn’t have to follow the road.

“Nothing,” the telepath answered out loud, “it’s just that everyone is breaking out.”

The girl was worried, but said nothing.

- What, you want to make a presentation, right? - Again, I climbed with questions of hallucination, - and even called out to the audience.

“Shut up and sit quietly”, - too much energy was needed to concentrate on what was happening, to protect oneself from the noise of thoughts of thousands of people around.

Its radius increased markedly, and with it came absolute insanity.

- Oh, come on, madness! “Henry snorted,” see this as a release. Transformation into god. What's wrong with that?

"I never wanted to be a god," Deimos thought in response.

- And I wanted.

“Deimos,” it was Adikia, “what next?”

They stood still no less than a minute, losing precious time.

“Yes, second,” the telepath answered her.

Trying to ignore the hallucination, which continued to grovel about something, Deimos focused on the area around the Council building. Repeaters must be somewhere nearby.

Here, he reached for the soldiers guarding one of them, very close, about two hundred meters. He glanced at the nearest skyscraper.

Then everything was easy. Deimos gave the command to the senior officer and the one somewhere on the roof, striking the step went to the installation, which he was entrusted to protect.

He saw what was happening with his eyes. Unremarkable device, more like a communication tower, a small control panel. Open the lid, turn on the power, put it into active mode.

Their modules — his and the Adikias — responded almost immediately. The girl screamed in surprise, and Deimos felt that he could easily reach the next, and the next, and the next repeater.

Rare network installed throughout the city, in the area of ​​one device was still at least two.

“Yes, James did his best,” thought the telepath.

It was difficult only with the first. Another five or ten minutes went on activating the towers throughout the city. As soon as the last switch was clicked, it seemed to Deimos that the trap slammed shut: now the Capital is in his power.

A feeling of calmness and correctness of what is happening flooded him. Send in the direction of anxiety, fear. He is on the right track.

- What's happening? - Adikia was completely disoriented. She, like her sister, was accustomed to hearing the thoughts of others, feeling their presence, but what was happening was beyond - the repeaters increased the radius of her Oka module many times and now her mind was overwhelmed with a huge stream that Deimos had been fighting all this time. - Who is it?! - To her horror, she saw a man in a military uniform who was unfamiliar to her, and who inexplicably found herself in the back seat.

The girl felt that something was wrong with him: as when Anna Price only introduced her and Astrea to Deimos, she did not hear him. There was no one to be behind. But there was.

“And what will you do now, Deimos?” - Henry asked.

- What is he talking about ?! - screamed Adikia.

She jumped from the driver's seat and froze near the car.

Both of them, Deimos and the stranger in the back seat, as if they were part of one whole, had an incomprehensible resemblance, and this frightened her even more.

- Do you finally understand what I was trying to convey to you? - Asked Henry Deimos.

“Yes,” the telepath said in response to his hallucination, and got out of the car after Adikia, “I understood.”

He walked over to the girl and put his hands on her shoulders.

“He is my friend, do not be afraid,” he told Adiki.

- I mean, friend?

“Let's just say he's a part of me,” Deimos replied.

Adikia looked the telepath in the eye, remembering their conversation.

“You will understand when the time comes, Adikia. Strange things begin that you cannot ignore, which cannot be ignored, ”he said to her then,“ the main thing is to not miss this moment. ”

“Sorry,” said Deimos, after which he burst into Adikia’s consciousness, taking control of her body, and squeezing his fingers on the girl’s throat with all the force available to him.

**

They got almost to the center. At some point, Matt decided to go further on foot: there were too many people around, and their transport attracted unnecessary attention. Until the government sector remained all a couple of blocks.

“You know,” said Oliver, jumping from the body to the ground, “this will help us a little.” We are in battle armor, old man. But it is dangerous for him - he nodded at the colonel.

“Finding a jacket is easier than dodging a grenade under the wheels,” Matt said. “We’ll think of something now.” Richard, how are you?

O'Connell was in one jacket. This guaranteed him protection from the cold, but now he was just a walking target for the rebels.

- Fine.

“You should take it off,” Oliver nodded to his tunic.

“You can do it easier,” Richard replied, and with several short movements he tore off his shoulder straps and stripes, and then took off his tie.

“You still have a scout mug,” Oliver shook his head. “You need to look for clothes.”

Clothes did not make them wait. From the nearest turn a group of five thugs emerged, no more than twenty years old. They were badly armed: chains, pipe cuts, one had a knife in his hands.

At one glance, it became clear that this rabble had already somehow “warmed up” the blood with alcohol, so now they felt like real strength, almost the Law.

Matt was reaching for his submachine gun, which was still in the car, but O'Connell made it clear to him that the noise should not be raised: automatic fire would attract too much attention to them. Oliver immediately reached for his knife and transferred the armor to combat mode.

- Who is this here? - He said one and the rioters, according to the degree of arrogance, apparently, the leader of his small army, - have you forgotten something here? What do you mean? ”He nodded at Richard.“ Form? ” We are you now ...

He did not have time to agree. Oliver, who stood a little behind O'Connell, threw his knife.

The guy stopped himself, looked at the handle of the blade, which entered his chest to the heel - the force of the throw was simply monstrous - and fell to his knees.

- Eh, Mickey, what are you doing ?! - shouted one of the gang.

Oliver did not waste time and ran up to the enemy in a few steps, grabbed the handle sticking out of his chest and with a force pulled the blade out.

Rebels finally realized what happened to their leader, and they did exactly what the Steel General expected of them - they rushed to the attack, shouting and randomly waving what they called "weapons."

At this time, Matt joined the fray. While Oliver caught in the capture of one of the attackers and, bending down, repeatedly thrust a knife into his stomach and chest, the old commander sent two of them into deep knockout with a pair of precise blows.

When the Steel General was already thinking of letting go of his victim, a chain fell on his shoulders, slightly hitting the back of his head.

Slightly higher and dead, Oliver thought.

He released the rebel literally gutted by him and turned to the last opponent left standing on his feet, who was already threatening the chain for the second strike.

Oliver did not shy away - battle armor guaranteed him security. Instead, he went to meet the attacker, caught and wound a chain on his left hand, which was already flying to his head, and, sharply twitching at himself, drove the knife into the guy's stomach.

Everything took about twenty seconds.

O'Connell silently watched. From him, lame, without a cane or armor, the fighter was useless, and Matt did not give him firearms.

“Hold on,” Oliver ripped off his jacket from the last attacker, who was still alive and lying on the ground, choking on his own blood, and threw it to Richard, “should go.”

The front jacket was sticky and blackened by blood, but the colonel was not embarrassed - he really needed to hide his uniform, and there were no other options.

Oliver dressed up with Matt. Now all three are not so conspicuous. Oliver seemed humped because of the four batteries on his back, but with the wrong night lighting it was difficult to notice.

“We need to find out what the hell is going on here,” said Richard, “I propose to move to the center, to my department.” I do not think that it could be taken with some chains and pipes.

- If the rebels crushed the checkpoint and a couple of barracks - then a lot of weapons are walking along their hands. Plus the gangs from the factory outskirts, ”said Oliver.

“I agree with Richard, in part,” Matt said, “in any case, we need to follow the rebellion to the center.” They will attempt to seize the Council building.

**

“You understand that I am no longer part of your consciousness, but you yourself, Deimos?” - Henry walked around the area, winding circles in front of a telepath.

He, as a child, tried not to step on the joints of the plates under his feet, from time to time, then shortening, then vice versa, extending his step.

This was something fascinating. Deimos watched him through slightly lowered eyelids, relaxedly releasing the hallucination from his sight when she was behind him. He did not know whether Henry was missing or if his brain obligingly continued to lead only one visible figure further, forward, until it again appeared in sight.

“What are you waiting for, Deimos?” The repeaters are turned on, the whole city is the heart of a tortured state, one of the last islands of civilization, here you have it - he clenched his fist and brought it to the man’s face. - They are all in our power.

“In mine,” Deimos answered lazily.

- What?

“Not in ours, in my power, Henry.”

Hallucination burst out laughing.

“Damn, come on,” Henry lifted his foot from the joint and took a step back, “and you're a prankster, Deimos.” At that moment when you strangled this bitch, I already thought that here it is, our moment of unity, but no. Where does this humanism come from? Remember how your leg met the ribs of Astrea! What did you feel?

- I do not know.

“I know,” Henry grinned, “I know, old man.” It is exciting. Violence excites, Deimos. And the fact of this does not make you a freak, no. Violence in the blood of us, as in a species, in all people. The ability to cause suffering, take away life - the highest pleasure for a person.

Deimos did not answer.

- Seriously? Will you keep silent? “Henry enjoyed the situation,” it is foolish to try to escape from internal dialogue, man. You understand that I'm right? At that moment, when you beat the eldest, you were yourself - a man, and not submissive cattle, driven and locked up in a moral cage of wimps. Admit it, Deimos! And acknowledge that this is why you killed Adikia.

“I just realized that she would bother me,” the man replied to himself, “how are you interfering now?” But you have no body, it's easier with you.

He closed his eyes and fenced off from the area of ​​the mind where his alter-ego lived. It was not easy: he felt the fury of his hallucinations shaking these thin mental walls, as Henry tries to break into his thoughts.

For a moment, one more thing, and Henry calmed down. Hidden until the moment when he can reach. But then everything will be unimportant.

By this time, the first rioters began to approach the square, called to the council building through loudspeakers. Its time to begin.

Deimos turned around and went to the porch of the Council building, symbolizing modern power. The low, frequent steps were annoying — as if built for dwarfs or frail old people — of the latter, however, the advice was the main part — they were too low to step on each one, but too wide to comfortably walk through one.

But nothing can be done about it.

Having passed about two-thirds, he stopped and sat down on one of the steps facing the square.

Ten, twenty, hundred. Timid streams of people with lanterns, torches, knives, brass knuckles, scraps of pipes and just stones in their hands were formed into full-fledged rivers flowing from three sides: from the main street along which he arrived here, as well as along the fence, on the right and left sides .

They all stopped at twenty meters from the stairs, submitting to his will - for that they didn’t even have to make any effort.

Here they are, his guests.

Deimos looked at the crowd. Killers, rapists, thieves. Someone was wearing a good suit, someone had the rags of a resident of the suburbs. There were clerks, workers, soldiers, drivers, tramps.

Alert with the help of loudspeakers throughout the city made Deimos a favor - it threw a thought into the heads of those who could accept his offer. He, after activating the repeaters, had only to push these parts to ensure that they unquestioningly obeyed his will.

The crowd was buzzing. He heard calls to destroy the garrison, and the families of the soldiers to execute. He heard greedy conversations about what they, those present, would be able to profit by in the Council building, because everyone knows: these filth, the powers that be, even need out on golden toilet bowls, wiping their asses with silk napkins.

Greed, anger, anger.

The mass in front of him now had little to do with people: inspired by rebellion, these garbage were more like angry dogs than people.

Deimos closed his eyes, plunging into the raging river of other people's minds.

Here, a well-dressed and earning man, he grew up in the Ring of Life and there he hoped to grow old and die. He beats his wife, and when he gets drunk, he rapes his ten-year-old son at night.

Here is an ambal who broke a skull for one pair of shoes that week.

Former leader of the ghetto gang, a giant who gave orders to execute people for disobedience, and sometimes personally executed his own sentence.

Here's a whore who scorches customers and releases them guts if she sees a wallet too tight. By itself, it is not evil, but can not do anything with itself - for the sake of a dose of dust, it will do anything.

“Yes, not bad public,” muttered Deimos to himself.

He touched the mind of everyone who stood before him, who still walked here, leaving the alleys and pouring into the stream of people.

How many of them? Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands?

He mechanically shook his head, as if escaping from the minds of those he had summoned to himself, and went on to the city.

The capital slept. Those who were not interested in him did not even notice what was happening, only a little earlier they put the children to bed and went to bed themselves. Unfortunately, they were much smaller than he expected.

But the lights of consciousness Oliver Steele and Matt Harris. They also came here to him.

Something inside flinched. He remembered what he saw in Oliver’s head, his life, which they both lived together time after time.

This is for later, thought Deimos. The square in front of the Council building was already full. "And now - the court."

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In order to keep readers abreast of the pace of work, and just to chat without fear of being hit by a banhammer on a GT, or else, if you do not have an active account, I created a group in the VK open spaces dedicated to the “Oko” project . We are already one and a half thousand people!

Welcome.

Criticism, ratings, discussions and other comments in the comments, as always, are extremely welcome.