Let them watch.
Jordan grabs Dibenko's shoulder and shakes him slightly:
– Did you hear that? The operation is over! That's it! Turn your systems off!
So it was Dmitry who froze the building? Police had not enough guts for that?
Man Without Face shoves commissar aside, he looks at me only. He's the only one who doesn't care about my threats. Not because he doesn't believe in them and not because he's ready to compete with an American juridical system, totally run through with computer technologies.
He's not ready to refuse the miracle. We're compatriots after all, the highest idea had screwed up our brains alike, even if in different directions. A whisper comes from the foggy mask:
– You're betraying the entire world…
– I'm rehabilitating it.
– You don't want to share, diver. You've got your reward… and betrayed us. Ah well. Don't forget to take the Medal – you'll have something to justify yourself with.
I remember the warehouse, the boxes with soft, the table where the Medal of Complete Licence was left.
I reach through the distance that is no more, and the heavy medal lies into my hand. I examine it for a second: the white background and the rainbow colored sphere, the cobweb of the Net surrounded by innocence and purity.
– This is yours, – I say and throw the Medal to Man Without Face. The medal touches the black fabric of the cloak and sticks to it. Nice… – I haven't earned that. And you… you created the deep, and stop repeating that you couldn't do it. You could. By yourself. Thank you. But don't think that we all owe you anything. This world will live, will fall and learn to stand up after that. It'll never force to talk anybody who wants to stay silent, and will never shut the mouth of the ones who want to talk. And probably it'll become better…
I turn around and walk towards my house.
Dibenko haven't yet turned off the programs that froze the building in the diamond crust. But I ain't gonna ask him for anything. I pull the door and enter the staircase that shines as Aladdin's Cave of Wonders. It's just that illumination dims behind my back, fades completely. I rip the foreign program, gaining step after step from it.
I ascend, just two and a half hundred steps to go up.
Rustles and noises can be heard behind each door, my drawn little world livens up as I pass by. Fragments of music and muffled talks, rattle of shattering glass and rhythmical hammer hits, slaps of bare feet against the floor and squeal of a drill can be heard from behind my back.
I can't even remember now, when and what was I programming surrounding myself with nonexistent neighbors. Weirdo am I. Just as anybody is…
I know that I can remove all freezing at once, with one effort, but I don't do that. Let the way up will be slow, step by step, sweeping the false sparkle from the walls, waking up the life in empty apartments. I'll never enter this house again.
Baby's whimpering and the buzz of a broken faucet, dog's barking and goblets' ringing. I have nothing to memorize and nothing to be sad about. These were my crutches but I've learned to walk on my own.
The last bend of the stairs, for a moment I stop by my door made of diamond grains. My tiny face is in every one of them, one of the numerous faces I was putting on in the deep.
I breathe at the door – the diamonds dim, darken turning into icicles, melting and flowing down in water droplets. Cry for me abyss, I have nothing to cry for.
I enter and instantly see that nothing have changed inside, Dibenko's program had no power here.
Unfortunate and Vika stand by the window, looking outside.
I approach – and Vika silently takes my hand into her, and we look at Deeptown, three of us.
The street is swarming with people, a dense solid crowd, Deep-Transit's cabs stay a bit further along the sides of the street and people still keep coming in order to freeze, looking up at the house.
And only right under the window the people give place, there's a ring of emptiness surrounding Man Without Face. He also looks up as if being able to see us. I even want to believe that he can.
– He's not evil at all, – I say to Unfortunate, – He's only impatient.
– I don't accuse anyone, – agrees Unfortunate.
– Then leave, – I ask, – It's high time for that.
He looks at me for some time, the one who came into the deep as Unfortunate, as if trying to see my real face, to understand what I might feel now.
– Are you hurt? – he asks in the end.
– No. Just upset, but this is different.
– I feared that you'll be hurt: I broke your dream, didn't I?
– Which one?
– You dreamed that virtuality will change the world, will make it cleaner, will give power and kindness to the people. You tolerated what angered you, smiled to what annoyed you…
Unfortunate stretches his hand, puts it on top of my and Vika's joined palms.
– You believed in the moment… one single moment that would redeem all sins and mistakes. I killed this faith.
It's even funny for me to listen to these words. Does he really think so?
Did I really think so?
– It's not the deep, Unfortunate, – I say, – Not this deep.
He nods.
– Do you remember the mirror labyrinth, Leonid?
Sure I do…
– The deep gave you millions of mirrors diver, the magic mirrors. One can see himself, one can see the world – any of its corners. One can draw the world and it'll become alive, reflected in the mirror. This is a wonderful gift. But mirrors are too obedient diver, obedient and deceitful. The mask put on once becomes the face. The vice turns into finesse, the snobbery into elite stuff, the spite into sincerity. The journey into the mirror world isn't an easy stroll, it's too easy to get lost.
– I know…
– That's only why I'm talking to you – because you know. I would like to be your friend too, Leonid.
He smiles sadly, then adds:
– But it would be a very strange friendship…
– Alien and Russian – brothers forever? – inquires Vika sarcastically. { A mock of the Stalin's times song: "Stalin and Mao watch upon us… […] Russian and Chinese – brothers forever." } So Unfortunate didn't convince her, not at all. For her he's still a human, a cunning hacker taking everyone in…
I'm mirthless but I say:
– I'm not asking who you are. Believe it or not, but I don't care… An alien from the stars or from another dimension, or the machine mind. But you know much more then we do anyway. Tell me, what will happen?
– It depends in what mirror you are looking, diver.
– Then I'll choose, Unfortunate, and I'll be very picky. Now – leave.
He removes his hand from ours.
For a second nothing happens, then the wall behind hid back starts bending, curling up into a funnel.
Unfortunate makes a step back, into the shiny tunnel leading towards unknown, towards the blue sun and orange bands flying beneath it, into his world. His body shivers and blurs, cascades of colorful sparks streaming from his skin. For a moment it seems to me that I can see – see the one who visited our world.
But most likely, I just want to give the miracle a name too much.
– Remember us… – I say to escaping flashes of light, – Remember us as we are…
The house begins to shake, the walls become transparent, then pale green, then brick ones, then made of paper. The ceiling crawls up and bends in a dome, the floor turns into the mirror, the light in the window passes all spectrum colors and burns our silhouettes on the paper wall. The apartment turns into a huge hall as if all directions were stretched by an order.
The tunnel narrows slowly, but there's still time… to jump after Unfortunate – and to see where he came from, to tear the mask from the miracle.
– Lenia, what is this? – shouts Vika.