Path book 1 Igor

"Tell me, little one, why are you carrying such a heavy load? Just a little more, and she would have fallen or dropped the tray."

"This is the juice for Igor! I said I'd bring it, and I was carrying it, but for some reason it turned out to be so heavy. Ugh."

"Well done, Azanti! You're a real friend!" My brother said loudly.

He put the tray on the grass, poured the juice into glasses and handed it to us, drank the rest himself, straight from the decanter. I sat and savored the berry juice. Sweet and sour, reminding me of a mixture of raspberry and redcurrant, slightly astringent, leaving a pleasant light aftertaste. It is made from a "dugout", a large berry growing in the foothills, on creeping bushes that seem to spread out on the ground. It is collected every year with the help of collection robots. Juice is made from most of it, and wine is made from the rest. As our blue doc says, "This is not juice, but a straight vitamin and trace element cocktail." The local Azari called it "The Gift of the Goddess." I hear heavy breathing on the right, I see our bear, a shaggy monster, sitting, looking at me, breathing fast, tongue hanging sideways. I must have hunted small rodents again, and there's a happy face. I'm a dog, I don't feel well, unlike a cat. He lay down on the grass, put his paws under the chair, put his head on my feet, and took a deep breath. He lies there, only his eyebrows moving when he glances at me. I started stroking his forehead, scratching behind his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, faintly, but I could feel his joy and pleasure. Another shaggy head is thrust under his left arm, there is a slight feeling of jealousy and expectation of affection, a soft "mrrow" sound: " You haven't forgotten me, little friend?" I haven't forgotten, my cat!

Gina squeaked, "I'm just!" and flew into the house, flew back a minute later. I have an album and pencils in my hands. She sat down in the second chair, putting it in front of her. His gaze became thoughtful and detached, his emotions calm and focused. Her brother stood behind her, leaned on the back of the chair, and began to observe the process. The further he went, the more his delight was felt, because it's so great to watch a truly talented reasonable person work, and no matter what he does. How, seemingly out of nothing, or out of the most ordinary things, beauty arises. I'm sitting with my eyes closed, basking in their emotions.

The gate creaked, and I was overcome by some wild, unbridled joy, thin arms wrapped around my shoulders, and the cold tip of my nose was pressed into my neck. Resentment flashed through the feelings, and in a quiet girlish voice in Turian they said:

"Promise me! What! You! Never! You won't do it again! You will never scare me like that!"

I turn my head and meet Nasara's deep blue eyes, like Dahya's.

"I'll try not to do it again, friend." Nasara beamed, snuggled up to me and sat down next to the armchair, on the grass, leaning against the hot side of the sofa.

A five-fingered hand with claws touches my shoulder, the other one strokes the redhead, the cat calmly puts his head under the caress. He's squatting on his haunches, anxiously looking at me with his sky-blue eyes.

I hug Azat back.

And in the evening I heard a conversation between my parents. When will Grandfather come to visit us, Dayan? You know how he feels about this multi-species colony thing. Yeah, he called me a weirdo. But let him come and finally see what we have achieved in 12 twelve years.

I emerge from the depths of memory, forcing the balls one by one to dive into the box. The gate slams, loud laughter is heard from the lawn, interspersed with heavy breathing. I go to the window, Azat and Disha are lying on the grass with their arms outstretched. Deniska's skin glistens with sweat.

"13:50, Azat! We have improved our time!"

"Oh, yes! I thought at the end that I would just fall and die!"

"Look, Igor is looking at us!"

"We see you, Snake!"

I look at the vacationing brothers, and an amazing meeting that took place last June comes back to my mind.

Should I get them some juice? I go down to the kitchen and go to the fridge.

Chapter 6. It's not like that at all.

Igor (Mendoir, June 2360)

The Hectic Year (part two)

June 10, 2360, 6:45 a.m.

The workout is over, I'm going down to the kitchen. There is peace and quiet at home, the whole family, except for Deniska and me, is still asleep. My father is not here, he is on duty at the plant. I go into the kitchen, take a one-and-a-half-liter plastic canister of juice in the refrigerator, pour half of it into a glass carafe and dilute it with water. Pure juice is too sweet, and after a workout it's not exactly what you need. But it's worth diluting — that's it! I take plastic cups from the locker and go to my friends. They're just lying on the grass, a quick glance in my direction, joy and malice in their feelings.

"I told you he'd come and bring you some juice!" This is Azat speaking.

"That surprised me... Yes, the Snake has a chuika — you and I, the poor ones, never dreamed of it! I wish I had that... uhhh!"

"Don't be jealous, it's not good!"

"That's who's talking! By yourself!"

"I can!"

"That's why?!"

"I have white envy!"

"And I have a black one, then?!"

"And you're just jealous."

"I do not understand... What does simple mean?"

"Where are you going! It's not for average minds..."

"Does that mean I have an average mind?! That's it, then! Sir Azath! I am offended in the best of feelings and demand immediate satisfaction!"

"Ha ha! Sir Denis! I accept your challenge! Where are the trainees?!"

"Over there, in the shoe box."

Maybe I should spar with them too. It's time for me to regain my knife fighting skills. Or did I ask Master Tanris to supply me with his equipment?

The guys pulled out training knives, they are made of soft and flexible plastic, but they leave bright luminescent marks after blows. It is extremely difficult to injure them, but the result is clearly visible.

They kicked off their shoes and socks, and pulled off their T-shirts, leaving only light sweatpants. They stood opposite each other and bowed slightly.

The beauties! Deniska is slightly shorter, but much stronger and slightly heavier than Azat, with already well-defined muscles. The Azat is faster and more flexible, with amazing predatory grace, the protective plates are still soft, both on the head and on the body. Tight rolls of muscles curl around the body and arms. In a couple of years, he will become a thunderstorm of women's hearts. Beware, young Turians!

They moved slowly in a circle, not taking their eyes off each other. Slightly crouched, deceptively relaxed, the right hand with the knife slightly in front, the left slightly closer to the body and lower, the palm turned down. I feel excitement and anticipation of a fight.

I'm missing the moment when the movement starts. A moment, a flicker of hands, a bunch of deceptive movements, the brothers tangled into a ball and fell apart, panting heavily. In Deniska, a bright blue stripe runs diagonally along the peritoneum, in Azat, it is bright green, from the right shoulder through the collarbone along the throat, disappearing at the ear opening.

"Ha! I got you! In real life, I wouldn't blow your head off." Denis said, panting.

"Look at yourself!" Azat is panting.

"Oh!" says Denis, staring at his stomach. "My giblets went for a walk! My poor guts! I'm blown away," the brother falls on the grass, spreading his arms.

"It's a draw again!" I'm definitely going to ask Master Tanris to be my apprentice. I like their knife fighting techniques. I was watching the guys' mental battle. But the sword fighting skills will have to be restored on their own. It's not customary for Alliance troops to carry long swords at all. Few people can handle them. Shorties or knives are the order of the day. And only the Massai and the Japanese use swords.

"I don't like sparring with you, Azat! It doesn't do any good!"

"I agree! I know you like crazy! All your feints and tricks." Azat grumbles, toying with the blade.

"Tell me, when was the last time our sparring ended with a victory?"

"ER-er-er... well, it was like last week.... You kind of won."

"Sort of?.. You were in the clouds then! Master Tanris scolded you back then. And by the way, who is she?"

"What are you talking about?!" Azat flashed with embarrassment.

"Come on, come on!" Denis broke into a smile. "Who were you thinking about? Come on, crack up!"

"It seemed to you," Ham replied, even more embarrassed.

"Oh, frend! You seem to have fallen in love!"

"Yes, she is so, so..."

Deniska reaches into the box and takes out bags of wet wipes, throws one to Azat.

"Catch it, lover! Otherwise, you'll be shining a green stripe on your neck!"

Azat opens the bag, takes out a napkin and begins to wipe off the paint, his gaze blurs and he, looking into the distance, just smears it on his skin in vain. Deniska lies down on her stomach, supports her head with her hands and, smiling, begins to follow her friend's manipulations. I put the decanter on the grass, throw the glasses, take the napkin from Azat and carefully begin to clean up the stains. Azat looks at me, at the smiling Deniska, blinking in surprise.

"Well, why did you interfere, Snake? This lover would have smeared a marker all over his neck right now and wouldn't have noticed. And then it would be green!"

Azat looks at me with his clear blue eyes. He's embarrassed, and he takes my hand with the napkin in his:

"Let me finish it myself... snake!"

"There's not much left here," I answer, wiping away the last traces. I lean into Azat's ear and ask in a whisper: "What's her name?"

"Basma Rinaris," My brother answers softly.

"That bully?" Deniska's voice is heard in my ear. "Oh-h!" he gets an elbow in the side from me. "Liska, don't push!"

"And she's not a pushover at all!" I'm talking. "She's just very shy and hides behind it. "And, Azat, she likes you too, and I think she more than likes you."

"Really?" my friend is surprised and delighted.

"Wow! Yes, it's mutual!" There is surprise and a little envy in Deniska's emotions.

We sit on the grass in silence for a while. To bring these lovers together. Otherwise, they'll be beating around the bush.

"So!" Deniska smelled businesslike. "I have a plan!"

"What's the plan?" Azat asks suspiciously.

"How to arrange your date. Otherwise, you'll be beating around the bush, and you won't decide on anything! And she's even more so! Snake, I'm going to need your help. Are you in business?!"

"Of course! Don't even doubt it" I answer.

"And my opinion, as it were, is not taken into account?" Azat is surprised.

"As if not! You're too indecisive", Deniska answers. "And your salvation is now in our hands!"

"That's what scares me...." Azat grumbles. However, he is actually very pleased.

"Anyway, listen up!" Deniska begins. "As far as I know, she goes to the city's preference club every morning to play the piano."

I must say that a real piano is a very scarce thing. It is clear that in the 24th century, for the most part, electronic analogues are used, but in order to learn how to play correctly, you need to play a real instrument. There was only one of them in our town, and it was in a local club. The club was organized on a shared basis by three reasonable people: a human, an azari and a krogan. On the ground floor, it was quite an ordinary entertainment venue: with a restaurant, a disco, a bar and a cabaret. And on the second floor there was the only preference club in the entire colony, and there was a grand piano. In the evenings, various respectable people gathered at the club, including the colony's management, my father and his friends, to paint a bullet or two. During the day, everyone was taught to play the piano there, for a fee, of course, albeit a small one.

"We wait for her on the way home, then you," Deniska points at me with her finger, "you invite her to the Mirror, under some normal pretext, with us. We're taking her to the lake, and then it's a matter of technique."

"I may not be able to do it very well, but if we take Bina, then together we will definitely convince her."

My brother scratched his head. He ruffled his hair and answered.

"So, we take the blue one, she definitely won't refuse to participate in such a case."

"Is there a place for me in your plans?" Azat asks indignantly.

"And in order not to scare you off, you will prepare a place with Ali! A table, juice, a cauldron and a heater for cooking mud crabs from you. As soon as we leave, I'll beep on your communicator, and you'll run off to the foothills and pick some flowers. So be it, we'll all catch mud slaves together.

"What colors?"

"Yes, any kind, there are many different ones growing in the glades, you can pick a bouquet to suit your taste. We'll settle down for now, you'll be fine. Come back and give her this bouquet. She's not stupid, and she'll understand."

"Got it! Everything seems to be simple..."

Deniska takes the decanter, we sort the glasses. My brother pours the juice, raises his own.

"I have a toast! To the success of our event!"

"For success!" Azat and I talk in unison, clink glasses together and drink juice.

Two hours later, having mobilized all the young people in our village, including Nasar, Azanti and Ivan, having clarified and supplemented our plan, the whole company begins to implement it.

I fly behind Deniska's back to the town, and a memory of a year ago wakes up in my memory by itself. On the same day, exactly one year ago, I also flew to Leonov, but only behind Azat's back. We flew to our Galamarkt supermarket to buy summer clothes, underwear and other necessary junk. My thoughts were full of the darkest forebodings. If I had known then what kind of meeting was waiting for me at the store, I would have run there on foot with all my might!..

The Old Shaman

June 10, 2359

Listening to the Stars, Keeper of the memory of the Grey Stone Clan

He woke up at dawn with a clear feeling that something very important was going to happen today, something that would have a huge impact on the future. He sat down on the couch and stretched his aching legs with his hands. Old age had come, and his life was rapidly and inexorably heading towards its end. The realization of this fact did not spoil his mood, the life of his people is not different in duration and has never been different. He is the shaman of the clan. And his purpose is to preserve the memory of the clan, the memory of millions of generations of Keepers like him. The time will come, and he will pass it on to the next shaman, and for a while the clan will have two Guardians. Then he, like his teacher and predecessor, will go into darkness, and his pupil will keep the wisdom of thousands of years. So it was, so it is, and so it will be! Until the TIME comes.