It was still pretty early. Gladyshev't know what творчиские workers like припоздниться. And the work day begins hours of ten and eleven, and therefore rushed to издательсвто at seven o'clock in the morning, that is, no light — no charge.
Letter Department was closed for longer than other rooms. Next door lived a stocky, bearded man, his whole appearance resembling somehow Гладышеву woodcutter. He often went into the corridor, he was in the other rooms, and all cruel, too, in the direction of Gladysheva, lonely маячившего between the closed doors, and then broke down and asked:
-What is it?
-Yes here, brought the manuscript, — Гладышеву speak like.
"Well, покжи. Yes, show, show. Won't eat!
Gladyshev reluctantly pulled out a bag thick folder.
"Wow, " said the bearded. — Healthy. This is what's happening here?
-Novel — shyly replied Gladyshev.
-Eldin Hal Сурро gat — read bearded on the title page. — Translation?
-No, — confused Gladyshev. Is my alias...
-Ah, " said the bearded. — Oh why are you so? What's your last name?
-Gladyshev.
-That's all — bearded passed in his office, put a fat folder on the table, and drew out somewhere pen, crossed out the "Eldin Hal Сурро gat" and wrote "the singularity".
-Calling-how?
-Dmitry Ivanovich.
-In-o, Dmitri Ivanovitch, " finished the bearded his name. — Two years later, suddenly, print it.
-Two years? asked surprised Gladyshev.
"Why, Yes? However, maybe more, but less unlikely.
"But in two years, begins another Millennium! — I wanted to shout Гладышеву, but he too was well aware that his words not take any action. — And I wanted to become famous in this... Maybe it will not be the next Millennium".
Bearded probably noticed that his words have upset the author. Several times he threw a weighty file on the hand, as if weighing, and whether to justify ourselves, whether in a rebuke to the interlocutor, умудрившемуся in such years ridden so thick романище, said:
-By the way, young man, the less you need to write. The shorter one. The shorter one.
His words had their effect. Gladyshev looked at his creation in obvious confusion, thinking that, indeed, should not be so all рассусоливать.
-About that the novel? — asked the bearded.
-About life, — has shrugged awkwardly shoulders Gladyshev. Now he himself was not glad that got involved in this conversation.
How surprised this bearded, if he knew that this thick folder — only the first book of a huge novel, and that his plan so vast and fantastic that subject, it would seem, not безусому youngster, and седовласому, умудренному elder.
-"Administrator", — read the title of the bearded. Is that so specially highlighted letters or a typo?
-Specially.
Mystic?
-Not quite.
-Well, if so, then print it. A two-year wait?
Gladyshev said nothing and simply said:
-A manuscript who takes?
-And, behold, a woman in the neighbouring room. It now no. Yes you leave the folder me, I'll give it to her.
Gladyshev somehow obeyed, although it had " no confidence to the bearded. Already when he was a few blocks from the publishing house, he had a serious, constant anxiety. He was feeling that his manuscript disappear, disappear somewhere in the bowels of the publishing house, and then he cannot even prove that it is generally brought it there, because there has to witness some kind of registration.
Пробродив troubled and brooding until five o'clock in the evening on the streets of Moscow, she made it back to the publisher.
Bearded not deceived him. The manuscript of the novel really lay in the Department of manuscripts and letters. A middle-aged woman sitting at a table piled with papers when the desktop lamp placed it in front of himself and began a conversation with him.
Her speech seemed Гладышеву quite polite and even дорбожелательной that impressed his own importance: he is the author! But to him, again, little by little, it came out that way.
Outside the window slowly and quietly large flakes of snow fell. Late at night — January days were so short. Everything was like a fairy-tale, and the melodious voice of a woman strengthened the feeling of unreality:
-You're not a member of the Union of writers? No? Then your novel I am in the Department of prose give will not. You know, there's a very big place, and we print in this Department members. But as you look to your novel to give the Department of youth literature? They are also binding doing hard...
There was such impression, that very soon, Gladysheva, will print.
-Come back in six months. Or call.
In six months? her last words brought back Gladysheva to reality.
Yes, I registered your manuscript, — she filed Гладышеву business card of the publishing house, which wrote handle : "N 92, January 29, 1998. Call in September the bodies..."
Lev Vasilievich and his guests returned with a jar muddy stuff. Gladyshev realized that there is nothing else to do. He picked up a folder with your novel and said:
-Okay, I'll go.
"Uh-huh, mumbled in response lion, закивав head, cut it and come. We'll wait. About trolleybuses do not write. And not more than ten sheets of copyright, you know?
Understood, " Gladyshev, swallowing the bitter lump resentment and thought: "All in vain!"
Chapter 8. 2.
Zhora decided that he was not there. He even thought that it screwed around your finger and, so saying, обдули.
Address him for a fee, brought him to a dirty entrance of the old buildings of a six-storey house. The lift did not work, and on the fourth floor, he had to climb on foot.
The walls of the entrance were already painted and signed coal. On the ceiling hung burnt matches, around which were black spots копот.
Jora gave gazed around, ceiling panel and used obscene words. For a long time already he had never been in such provincial slum.
Climbing up to the fourth floor, he stood there in front of oak, moraine door, with a massive polished copper plaque, on which, reflecting in the twilight of the staircase, were digits, then pressed the call button.
The melodious sound, opening the crack of the door, leaned out, an old man, looked at Jora through the glasses:
-You whom, young man?
-Yes, probably, to you.
He called password, received with the address. It worked like "open sesame!", the door is wide opened, and the owner gestured for him to enter.
In close a small hallway, apparently, apartment on the walls was hanged a lot of all kinds of clothes manufacturers вппечатление rubbish.
"It's not like it's here the people lived, thought George, looking around
The owner is not held it for a long time in the hallway and back turned to him, silently went deep into the apartment, thereby offering a follow him.
Looking at his flannelette Bathrobe, tossed over the мешкообразное, бочковидное body, with somewhere in the region of the abdomen, waist, which is not viewed, George began to doubt whether he was, and whether he was sent, who was wanted, and when they were in the large but badly furnished room, the furniture was old, tired, Yes to all this took some clumsy, incomplete, intermediate position, as if someone took her move and gave up, not finish asked:
-You, in fact, do you know why I came to you?
-I guess, young man, I guess — landlord flopped, if the Charter of the stand, in a deep armchair, took from her robe pocket a cigarette and lit it. — To me all come for одниам same, actually.
He dragged on and released a stream of smoke in the direction of the guest.
Zhora sank into a chair opposite:
-And that you all give what they need?
-Well, who pays, respectively, — he started fidgeting in his chair. — Let's to the case: I have no time for рассусоливания. First installment — three hundred dollars per visit.
Zhora involuntarily whistled back:
"That was a good start! Yet it had not managed to exchange and money flowed a stream! Not too much there? I understand that ten, well, fifteen dollars, but not three hundred!..
Well, the landlord is dissatisfied with his hands, I'm sorry, but, apparently, we are not going to get along. Too bad you were not warned, and on what conditions it is necessary to go.
-No, why not! I was told that you should take the green, and much. I am ready to pay, but only for the information
You see, каждогоуважающего a man like me, there is a threshold below which it is not working. If the client cannot put me at once , that's just like you, the down payment, then, have to say goodbye. I'm not going to no one roaming the pockets, but this behavior gives me every reason to believe that he состоятеленг. And indulgences, exceptions, I do not do to anyone, this is my principle. Money in my hand — the best and the only argument for the continuation of the conversation... so?
He made an unambiguous pause, and George realized that you need to shell out either, or take a hike. Step back, no matter how it was a pity to pay, there was no miser pays twice, and he's already stepped on the road on which it would be cheaper to go forward than back off, go напопятную.
Зашуршали paper passed from hand to hand.
-Well, what are you interested in? Or rather, who?
-Bondi BPO.
Now, it is probably turn to be surprised to the owner of the apartment:
You have! Cool, cool! However, introduce yourself.
Zhora something figured out myself:
-I have a right to remain incognito and incognito.
"Not quite, unfortunately.
Is почемуже?! — Zhora nearly jumped out of his chair in indignation. — It turns out that for my money I came himself squeal, so what?!
Interlocutor smiled mysteriously:
-Well, no. Why? You should introduce yourself to me even being polite as I do you, however. Let me do it first. My name is mark Ilich.
-I would like to believe that this вашке actual name.
"As you wish.
-Does not work. Struggling to believe.
-It's yours.
George began to get angry. His strong nature could not accept the fact that they are trying to cheat.
-You say that you have no time, and impose some kind of a rotten game!
Not at all! I got to speak to you. Yes and I have to create an image, which will communicate.
Then two hundred.
-Two hundred? I love mark Ilich.
-Two hundred dollars for пердоставление information. One hundred and leave you.
Mark Ilich shook his head, apparently surprised that underestimated his guest, then without unnecessary disturbance returned the money.
"Unlocked yet, you bastard! thought George, hiding greenish-grey bill. — All the cards in his hands. But let them one will see that not NFEA fool ran".
-I need to know about him: where he lives, what does officially and unofficially, communication... and so on.
-"So forth" — your pockets will be worn. This will cost a million. If you are interested in any clerk or a Secretary, a couple of days I would put you all her background from and to the couple hundred. But you won who have ventured... I see as a hired killer, — the larger дчиь, the greater the rate. But the rate may оказатьсмя larger than life, yours, if you do not have enough power, and my, if I do pass. This case stands, it seems to порогое both.
-You that is, refuse?! "exclaimed George " Then I demand a pay penalty. Give me my three hundred.
-Well, first of all, I will not do that, and, secondly, secondly, I do not refuse. So, step by step. Fee for all separately. The first...
-First, all the dirty things.
The landlord stood up, walked around the chair, opened an old chest of drawers. In the depth of his became visible hour computer hardware. Mark Ilich quickly затарабанил fingers on the keyboard. In ten minutes he spoke:
-What is the period of life?
-First conscious.
-Well, well. I only starting from service in army. So, 'll burn yourself or send to printer.
-Better on the floppy disk.
-Well, — mark Ilich he pressed again with two dozen buttons.
On the display screen, blinking, began to change, leaving one after another, frames with text. Browsing through them, mark Ilich noticed:
-Yes, he has a very good biography. Not without reason speak, that the most уязвляющая information that comes through time. In your army, Bondi Bohm, made stealing things, plundering spare parts from cars and marketed stole forward to left. In each case there is an almost exact date of abduction, — this is the value of information. Come here, see for yourself... Oh, here he began work a "big": copper goes West FL. See all: the price for a ton, number, date of dispatch, destination, intermediaries...
George came and stood next to mark Ilyich, browsing the text.
It comes to a floppy disk? "he pointed to the screen.
-Of course.
-Then I'll check it out.
Mark Ilich stretched thin lips into a smile:
I have no doubt. You have the full right.
Having calmed down, Zhora went and took a more detailed inspection of the room. "Wonder what he had in these absurd cabinets," thought he, passing the items of furniture. An original method, which was hidden computer.
-Young man, do not go, — asked it, mark Ilich, noticing that he was out what you need.
-You seem to be asking about my name, isn't it?
"Oh, Yes. Igor, do not go there, please.
"Okay, " Zhora heavily sank into a chair.
It seems he had some time to think.
The person against whom he prepared an extensive and expensive dossier, was a major figure, and not only in the shadow areas of all kinds of illicit trade and resales, but also on the political arena. There he was somewhere close control and конституционой Collegium is a collective monster from the Institute of power. Bondi BPO policy was merely Minister of a cast-iron-heavy direction of industry, утюжившего this poor country with a skating rink, turning it into place some incredibly huge whether the massacres, whether the privy.
Such a high position obliged to relate to the person Bondi Boma with reverent respect. In fact, the official world at it, of course, was another, quite proper name, but for Zhora, which itself is more perceived as a Hippopotamus, he was not who other, as Bondi Bohm, inveterate and notorious rogue, especially dangerous. One hundred managed to дорваться to powerful levers of power. Millstones, given by them in motion, could break bones not only such as hippopotamus, but ten of them.
Zhora understood that got into a dangerous game, but another way for him not Blo: too large money was put into the pot, too much was already lost and wanted to return, if not more, at least for what was lost
When a man learns that his one way or the other cheated and robbed, his soul lives caustic concern, not leaving him and саднящее how bad the healing wound from the razor. You just need to touch it, and it causes severe pain, which поселялется and hide somewhere in the depths of consciousness, until, finally, something will not be able to solve or do, or return stolen, or exile and glimpses of the doubt and hope to do this by replacing their confidence in непоправимости the incident.
