In the name of freedom

At that moment, the world government was still silent, weighing the decision for which they had to gather for a general council.Probably, only the phenomenon of alien intelligence could have caused even more excitement, but in the case of Aden, procrastination even in one day cost humanity a massive decrease in employees.

The next wave of quiet panic came to the network with rumors from engineers.

The government quietly tried to force hosting companies to manually disconnect all stratezhka game servers from the network, but ... even on the main world hosting, all efforts were in vain.The game has spread like a virus across the world wide web, supporting itself at the expense of users.And no matter how hard the authorities and monopolists of the gaming industry try, as long as the last computer in the world will work, "Aden" will live.

Even without an official response from the world assembly, the opinion of the rulers became obvious to the public.They wanted to kill the game. "Aden" tried to kill.And together with him, they could kill all the players who crossed over to the other side.After all, no one knew what would happen when the last server went out.Do these people live in virtuality?Or in another full-fledged world, the entrance to which lies through the game?What if, with the pulling out of the last "plug", people themselves, with their own hands, kill hundreds of thousands who have moved to another world?

Humanity, ideologically supporting "Aden", froze in horror.

And our world didn't believe in mysticism anyway.The best programmers were hired to hack the system and break the game, which had already ruined a significant percentage of the population.However, the situation was popularly called a gaming epidemic, and short-sighted residents soon began to fear even their electric kettle.What if the virtual world shocks them and kills them to take them away too

But hacking did not help, but only aggravated the situation.People raised a panic, stores raised prices for video cards, hard drives, and mnemovisors.And soon the situation with the game reached the level of mysticism, when in order to get the game, it was enough to attach a plug to a computer on which the download file was simply stored!The miracle of software distribution has reached an inexplicable level.No one could explain such a phenomenon.Without an obvious download, the game appeared everywhere, having already captured almost every computer. And thenHumanity faced a choice.Or stay in a panicking, pathetic, crumbling world, amid growing superstitions, obscurantism and calls to drive the nation into the medieval age with a kick, or ... take a deep breath, gain determination, remember your dreams and leave to build a civilization, becoming there ... everything you have enough imagination, arrogance and intelligence.

A choice that everyone made independently, under the pressure of public panic and persecution.When any work related to the virtual environment was condemned and subjected to negativity.When the world began to collapse from economic disasters, and there were not enough qualified personnel in the workplace.This choice had to be made under the fear of the world apocalypse, fearing that one day for words about the game you can become a victim of yard gangs.That one day the counters will be empty.And if humanity suddenly decides to disconnect from the network on a massive scale, it will have to accept and adopt a new way of life, radically abandoning the old way of life and habitual work.

It is not difficult to guess what our generation chose.

That's just the transition to another world from the desire of the players soon ceased to depend.Someone built their states in "Aden" for months, polishing every detail and preparing, but remained as always to live in their native world.And someone wore a helmet just to communicate with a friend, but soon died from the game.So there was an opinion that "Aden" takes only the chosen ones, those whom it needs.And then, when their time comes, the players no longer decided their fate.The program did it for them.

And only those who really rummaged through the work of the virtual game and networks really panicked.

It's impossible! You hear, it's im-pos-sib-le, a skinny young man in a lopsided plaid shirt was typing words in a conversation with me.The pile of brown hair resembled a piece of straw after a night shift. The game is not a virus. It doesn't work like a virus.No virus will convert gigabytes of files into a microarchive. We were checking a fresh disk. The amount of occupied memory did not increase upon contact with an infected computer. There are no files there! We checked the connection of the mnemovisor to an infected computer and a clean one. And what do you think!? It's downloaded! But the mnemovisor does not transfer files. There's nothing to transmit. There's not even a memory card there. One video card. Except in it, but in it every cell is accounted for. Everything is at a minimum for the work of the picture.

The young man was sitting at my kitchen table and nervously tapping the tablet pen on its surface. It was infuriating.

Some kind of shit. It doesn't happen that way. We ran into some shit. They say that soon everyone will be forcibly disconnected from the network. In some countries, all virtual stores have already been closed. Private dealers are simply imprisoned. But people solder half-dead mnemovisors even from electronic balls for photos. You know these? For family albums and videos. They figured out how to connect this baida to the network and use it to enter the game. And what do you think?! Works. People are leaving. Just knocks in a real way into the network.

He ran his skinny fingers through his tangled hair and raised tired red eyes.

They say they found a game developer. They raised the logs, turned out to be dead for twelve years. What to do I think more and more that only disconnecting from the network will save everyone. Fuck it, we'll hang out offline sometime. But I will be calm that my little ones will grow up without this madness. I'm not afraid for my job. There are a lot of seats available.

The young man with a sour face gulped down the remains of the coffee offered.It was as if he was offered not a morning favorite drink, but a bitter poison.

In general, I was thinking of going somewhere to the islands. Buy family tickets for a charter flight, dump on resorts. And then settle down there with the ends.Warmth, sea, fresh food. I will engage the children in subsistence farming, I will teach them to farming. It's better to let them stare at the animals than to count the sad faces on the streets. Exactly. I'll do that. Before it's too late. I don't believe it will be better. Places, however, may not already be on the islands, but in any case it is better than in the metropolis.And I'll look after the network there. It will be necessary I will pull out all the sockets in the house with wires.

He started tapping the pen on the table again.How infuriating it was! From lack of sleep.

Just like on the head. On a tired heavy head. However, I do not know how to plant beds. My wife can. And mother-in-law. I don't want to take my mother-in-law, but apparently I will have to. And her sister will have to. And my aunt. And her brother. And then it's my friend. True, he's a nerd, he may not want to. Half of my office is already neurotic nerds. The boss fires you for mentioning the game. And he walks around all the time and wails out loud that there is a complete mess around. There is chaos in the department. There is lawlessness in the world. There is chaos all around. Be-e-useless. He was useless. Be-e

Be-e-e-e

Be-e-e

Bb-be-e-e

And I woke up again to the familiar sounds of fucking cattle.

Be-e-e!

Yes, I hear, I hear!

What could be more familiar than throwing a bundle of soft pillows from under your arm in the direction of the sound.

Be-e!

It didn't help. Who would doubt.A brute... and you can't argue.

Well, what do you want?

I turned over on my other side and stared with one eye at the snow-white goat's face sticking through the curtain of the caravan.

Leave me alone, let me sleep.

The goat persistently beat a sharp pair of hooves on the wooden threshold.With the same nasty monotony as my old friend with a tablet pen in a dream. Oh, you infection

As if hearing my thoughts, the goat cheekily yawned in its fanged mouth.The ears are apart, a double row of biters warmed up in motion, the cheeks were stirred with chewing gum, and the pink forked tongue arched.

He knows how annoying it is to me, and he's showing off anyway.

The mouth slammed shut with a quiet slurp, closing all the mandibles into an ordinary muzzle.Only the look of the scarlet eyes with a black cross-shaped pupil continued to squint at me with obvious malice.

I created it on my own head.Low-level goat, agriculturalWell, at least these "levels" are not demonstrated here.Only the term from the moment of creation can be found out.But only that he will give.

Well let me sleep, I begged.

The goat tapped its hoof again.And then the canvas of the door of the colorful caravan jerked open.

In the light of the morning sky, a tall, dark-skinned man was formed, with the body kit of a militant highlander.Leather clothes with white fur on the edge, a sling with a saber, greasy gloves, a dirty tuft of tail on the back of the head, a tank top that emphasizes the relief of muscles and an absolutely idiotic white smear of a fingerprint across the face.Type designation of military status.

Wake up, chamshire! The sentries reported

I told you that nickname pisses me off, I grumbled from under a fluffy goat-fur blanket.

The man guffawed and proudly puffed out his chest.

He called himself that!

I was tired and typed the first thing that came into my head, I opened the door sleepily.

But we are cheerful!,the head of the patrol squad put his hands on his hips and lowered the pathos.In general, the leader, the prince of the neighboring state has finally reached you.Less than a week has passed since I found the right path! The guys and I thought that since he owes you money, we will accompany him at the end of the way. Well, so that the goats don't devour

Yes, well done, we decided correctly, I answered, reluctantly bringing myself to a sitting position.Once they came to wake me up, then I have about two hours to swing and bring myself into the proper form.

The man looked at me without turning away and without leaving the threshold of the caravan.I had enough brains to create such an unprincipled people.It's useless to drive him, even as the nurse will make sure that I put everything on myself and did not forget any details of the uniform.

Caring!

Hey, Chief

I have a name, I muttered, pulling a colorful shirt over my head.It is useless to look at warriors stripped in armor they are not cold even in snowy areas in the mountains.I just know that in the morning I'll get drunk in the fresh air.

Hey, Sorin, the patroller corrected himself in a completely calm voice. What's so gloomy? Again?

Again," I nodded, jumping on the mattress and putting myself into thick windproof pants.

I was dreaming about the past again.An old life in a world that I have already lost the habit of calling my own."Past" and past. I tried to forget it as an unsuccessful boring dream, but the memories sometimes came back.Entrances, smoky stops, a network epidemic and a viscous panic of the nation, killing brains better than any virtual.

Can I give you milk tinctures? The guys are brewing turquoise flowers on it. They say it soothes, the man leaned over to the edge of my mattress and threw a heavy boot closer.

So that I don't sleep all night, but the whole day?, I grumbled, putting on my shoes and tightening my fur leggings.

You'll sleep like a kutsak!, the lookout grinned widely. Quietly, without dreams, not enough.

And piss yourself off from the cut?, I asked venomously.

The guys tried, all in a bunch!

I looked doubtfully at my evil babysitter.

Firstly, I did your body so that it even digested the poisonous moonlight, so you are not an indicator to me. And secondly, I got to my feet and took on a heavy fur status cloak. don't blurt out such expressions to anyone.

What's the big deal? the man spread his hands. Everything is in a bundle, everything is like clockwork, everything is fire! Come to the shaman for the night, he will burn you with a bunch of smoky, and smear you with oil, and consecrate you with fire. Who will believe us mountaineers that everything is not literal!

I shook my head in unconvincing reproach.After all, I made some cool people.They will not be lost.

When will the prince appear there?, I asked, putting on a shaggy hat with sharp semicircular horns and pulling up my invariable metal beads on a strap.

Yes, as soon as you're ready, I'll give my signal, they'll take him out of the loop of trails in half an hour. And so at least half a day can drive there.

Sadists," I replied phlegmatically, clinging to my belt the only richly decorated accessory in the village.A pointless curved saber with a cut of scarlet stones on the pommel.Just like the color of goat's eyes.

You taught me," the lookout replied, handing me a bundle of breakfast.Probably with selected cheese, fresh tortilla, which warmed through the fabric.The flask was served separately.

He remembers that I asked for an open-air breakfast in the morning.

Sometimes I like the exotic. Like today.

I got out of the caravan with my hands busy and stretched quite, savorily.My entire allotment met me without changing in any way.The lush green plateau was painted in several spots by small groups of grazing goats.A couple dozen caravans with red domes, jingling in the wind with a small ritual fringe.Motley fabrics fluttered with flags and decorative canvases on strong ties made of bent wood.Some residents, with whom I crossed eyes, nodded to me in greeting from afar.And the predatory goat gently butted in the thigh.It's been a while since I've surfaced.The people had time to miss their leader.Even the cattle happily clung, recognizing their creator.

We need to get up more often.I stayed too long in the caves.Administration, urban planning, work on charming with storage devices is all cool, no doubt.My scumbags perfectly assimilated both in the foothill capital and in decorative caravans.But sometimes you have to remind yourself how to hold a mug.My mountaineers even like to play wild tribes.

Filth. And at home, the hydroponics is idle.The wiring of the elevator to the lower tiers had to be postponed because of this tsar.The guys themselves will not go down, I reconfigured the touch panel of the drill so that they would not try for my absence.Otherwise I know them. You'll leave, then you'll come back, and they've already finalized the fortification shield, and they're cutting through kilometer-long corridors on gliders.