Path book 1 Jane

The prologue

The Path is a book with a huge world, many famous and new characters who participate in canonical and completely new events. For the hustlers: the first canonical (according to bextori) event occurs in Chapter 11, and the first game event (Eden Prime) occurs in Chapter 24. At the beginning, there is a description of many key characters and important events. Read from the beginning, the author has succeeded well in conveying the feeling of an inevitably impending catastrophe. I have started putting the text of the book in order and plan to get to the end.

* * *

The day is long over, and the stars are about to light up in the sky. It's time for my next shift at a part-time job in a taxi. I take the order from the dispatcher and pick up the client — an attractive girl wants to spend time at the club. The road, rarely crossed by the junctions of overpasses, glistening with puddles in the sinkholes on the asphalt, is moderately broken, but still allows you to drive at a decent speed. From behind, the heart-rending howl of engines running at top speed is approaching. Driving at ninety, I am bypassed by two "chepyrki" (VAZ 2114) standing up — painted, tinted in trash, with loud rhythmic music bursting out of the windows. They rush past and disappear ahead of us behind a smooth turn of the city chord. There's an interchange four kilometers away, so I'll have time to admire the jerks in the oncoming lane. I'm slowing down automatically, ahead of the speedcams on the trellis farm thrown over the road. I'm always surprised when these assholes don't get caught. The descent is smooth, and a couple can be seen flying out from around the bend on the oncoming lane. One of the "caps" flies into a puddle and catches an aquaplane at a speed of 180 km.

Time has almost stopped, and I'm watching what's happening in slow motion. The idiot skids, throws it under the second one, and now two idiots are spinning loops in the oncoming lane. One hits the metal bump on the right side with a swing, pieces of bumper fly in all directions, sparks, the car crumples into a shapeless lump of metal and plastic. Consciousness notes all this as if automatically. The second one hits the side of the high curb of the dividing strip, the car bounces, it flies sideways onto the divider and hits the metal fence post with all its might. Glass splashes, the rear bumper, torn off by inertia, slowly takes off, and the car begins to tear in half. I see a long metal pin fly out from under the bottom and fly towards me in a smooth parabola, rotating. "Fucked up!", it flies by in my mind, and with a pop like a gunshot, the piece of metal smashes into the windshield. A blow to the chest, the pain flaring up and fading. I slam on the brake, the car stops abruptly, I feel the jolts of my ABS in the pedal, the passenger squeals across the front seat, burying her face in the headrest. My swallow got up, the engine stopped, the locks clicked, automatically unlocking the doors.

"What are you doing!" It's coming from the back seat. "Don't you know how to drive at all? I'll report to the dispatcher! They'll recruit anyone with purchased rights!"

"You need to buckle up, you fool!", it floats sluggishly in my thoughts. I look at the ragged hole in the windshield with cracks radiating in all directions. I look down, and there's a pin sticking out of my chest with a cut-off bolt at the end. Why doesn't it hurt? My consciousness begins to swim, and a hot feeling spreads in my chest.

"There's something sticking out of your seat, I've hurt myself! What's it? Something sticky!" the ceiling switch clicks, flooding the interior with white LED light. "Ah-ah-ah!" It's coming from the back seat.

What are you screaming about? My ears are already ringing. Or is it just my imagination? The ringing in my ears is getting louder, black flies are in front of my eyes... why is there no pain? Darkness and silence, there are no sounds, no movement, no sensations. Only on the verge of perception is a feeling-a whisper-a thought: "Forget everything, accept peace and oblivion, forget pain and fear, memories bring pain, why do you need them? Forget it, forget it, forget it..."

"Who am I! Answer me!" a thought flashes by. "I don't want oblivion! I want to remember!"

"Are you sure you want to remember?" It was as if a strange alien thought-feeling appeared nearby. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes! Yes, I do! Give me back to you. You are welcome."

"As you wish."

And I remembered everything. All my life: kindergarten, school, college, army! I remembered my wife, my children, and my job at the factory. I remembered everything: every day, and most importantly, I remembered my death.

"Fuck, did I die? Yes?"

"The biological shell has stopped functioning. However, death is quite controversial. Don't you think?"

"I think means I exist. So what is it?"

"Right."

"And what's next?"

"As you wish. You want to go back, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Can I?"

"May. But with some condition."

"Like what?"

"People like you, those who have given up oblivion, are offered to return for a reason. They need to help the world they're being sent to. You will be given the skills and gifts to be able to cope with the task assigned to you."

"What are these gifts and skills?"

"Different, for example, how do you like absolute memory?"

"Normal."

"Normal?! The brute."

"And which world will I be sent to? What should I do there?"

"One of the worlds you know."

"What kind of acquaintances?! I've never been anywhere but Earth."

"Many of them are described in your fiction."

"So you're giving the authors plots! But why?"

"We can't interfere directly, but with the help of people like you, it's acceptable. You are bound by the laws of that world, and you are mortal. Therefore, based on our predictions and assumptions, we use information delivery tools like books and others in other worlds to raise people like you, and then send you to help other worlds. Remember: what you have described may differ from reality, it is close, but not the same, and the forecasts are not absolute. Foreknowledge can fail you. Check it out."

"And if I fail? I'm not a superhero!"

"So we'll raise the next ones."

"What about me? What will happen to me?"

"If you don't break down, we'll send you somewhere else. There are many problematic worlds."

"What does it mean if I don't break down?"

"There are quite difficult situations there, but a reasonable person cannot live in a vacuum, he acquires friends, relatives, and just reasonable relatives. Not everyone can stand losing, and then oblivion awaits them. And after oblivion, what good are they? They leave for another incarnation in the usual way."

"And in case of victory?"

"You win first! If you win, we'll talk."

My crazy thought flashed by: "Oh, I'll turn around!"

"And so that you don't get distracted, I'll change the boundary condition. That's not why you're being sent there!"

"For what "for this"?"

"For everything as they like to say in your homeland. That's enough talking, you should go."

* * *

It feels like I'm falling, and the fall is getting faster and faster. A dazzling white dot appeared ahead and began to grow rapidly. The dot turns into a cloud of light, the feeling of the body comes, it is compressed, as in a vice, there is a soft elastic tightness and darkness around, I am not breathing. What's happening? The darkness pulsates, strange sounds are heard, as if someone is moaning. The body is squeezed to severe pain and pushed forward by the head. Suddenly, I feel freedom and a bright light. Everything is cloudy, there are some colored spots and voices. I feel a blow on my ass, it hurts so much that I want to scream. I take a breath, my chest explodes with wild pain, I scream and pass out under my own scream.

Chapter 1.1 Hello, am I your Zhenya?!..

Eugene (Mendoir, March-April 2355)

March 11, 2355

The realization came somehow suddenly. I saw a giant bending over me, who smiled at me and said:

"Who is it that I have here, so small, and already awake?"

Damn, is he talking about me? And why is it "small"?! I tried to feel myself with my hands... and I broke off like that. Hands! My fucking hands! THEY DIDN'T LISTEN TO ME! He tried to touch his face and stuck his finger in his own eye.

"Whoo, your mother!", I tried to swear, but instead something came out of me like, "Augo mugo ao!" Ooooh, I can't even speak properly! A complete polar fox! Have arrived...

The man picks me up, and I feel like my head is being pulled back so badly. With a noticeable effort, I straighten my head and slowly look around. The decor is nothing like that: laconic, futuristic, all kinds of screens, a half-wall window, bent furniture made of polished metal. A tablet made of transparent glass with glowing orange symbols is lying on the table. Am I the one who got into the future? And that's bread! That voice would have sent me back to the Middle Ages, which was really tough back then. No sorters, no medicine, you'll shudder when you think about dental treatment, the church is militant with all sorts of inquisitions! So, I'll try to look at the hand anyway. If you bring it up to your face quietly, deliberately... that's it, your hand obeyed! No, adults don't have such hands, the fingers are plump, the nails are pink. So I'm a child, not "Gulliver in the land of giants"! But the question about "my little one" remains open. How can I check it? That's an ambush... oh, I thought of it! I start kicking my legs and groaning. There is a contact! The man bends down and takes out a metal pot from under the sofa — well, the most ordinary kind, my boys had the same in a previous life, only plastic, not stainless steel. So, down with your pants, and they put me on an iron friend, we lower my head slowly and...

Oppa! And HE's not there! Masculine, that is, dignity! fuck! Bitch! Ah-ah-ah-ah! This is a change in the boundary condition, damn, it's just mean! But I really wanted to go to the bathroom, so we're doing it, hmm, it feels strange, different... damn it! Of course, they are different, the platform is different! Uh-huh... well, there's no way out, let's get used to this!..

Okay, it's done, they're probably carrying me to the bathroom. That's right! Oh, the mirror! Well, well, we look at ourselves... Small as small, it looks about a year old, I try a smile, oh, dimples have formed on my cheeks! There are about eight teeth in his mouth. There's not enough hair yet, and the color is so strange, reddish like. The eyes are green, no, GREEN, like malachite! So they washed me, put my pants back on, and carried me back. We look around, it's spacious, there are a lot of windows, all kinds of equipment, and this is probably a TV! Shit, it looks like two meters diagonally! There are columns of one and a half meters on the sides with grids on the outside, columns, probably. Everything is turned off, the red indicators are winking.

We returned to the same place where we came from, the man sat me on the sofa, propped me up with pillows on both sides, put some crap with a pen in his hand, I shook it, and it started to squeak, lights inside. Bah, it's a rattle! Well, let's take a closer look at it. Well, what can I say, nothing special: made of transparent plastic, a ball with another ball inside, the second one with built-in LEDs, the handle is also made of plastic, only soft to the touch. Well, that's it. There was a "pssssssss" sound from the right. I look, and there's a piece of wall moving so slowly, and the opening we entered is closing... closed. And on the wall to the right, a green circle about ten centimeters in diameter lit up, and the circle itself seemed to be hanging in the air without touching the wall. Wow, it looks like a hologram!

Then I felt that someone was looking at me. So, turn your head slowly to the left. Wow, what a huge cat! The head is bigger than mine, hefty, sixty centimeters at the withers! Thick long paws, a meter-long tail like a tube, and only the tip bends back and forth. He stands on the couch next to me and looks at me with his green eyes, paying attention.

The man sat down at the table, and says:

"What, Barsik, Zhenya woke up, and you're right here, on guard duty?" The cat looked at the man, stood on the pillow with its front paws and folded itself into a ball so that its head was right under my hand. I reached out and ran my fingers through the wool.... and the fur is soft, I scratched him behind the ear with my little fingers, went down on his cheek, the cat threw his head back, purred like an engine. I was looking at the man, and he turned sideways to the table, pressed something with his hand under the table, and in front of him a hefty hologram lit up for about a meter and a half. He put gloves on his hands with metal claws on the tips of his fingers and began to think in the hologram: he pokes somewhere on the left, then moves back and forth with both hands at once, then launches his hands into the hologram itself with fingers spread out, as if holding something, and twists his palms, as if turning. Bah, it's such a punch line, you see! I wish I'd been like this in a previous life!

The man appears to be in his thirties, has blond hair, blue eyes, and is wearing what looks like a pair of light-colored overalls with hip pockets and a white T-shirt with a large blue inscription "LC" LOKI EI-14 "TAS NAVY" on the left side. On her feet are soft-looking, short moccasins made of white material. I stared at him like that for twenty minutes. In the end, he couldn't stand it, got out from behind the table, walked through the hologram, came up to me and said:

"Why are you looking at the Dad, my daughter, as if you've seen it for the first time!" And he's smiling. I return his smile, he bends closer to me... and I am covered with love, tenderness and some kind of joy mixed with delight! Damn, why am I so overwhelmed? Didn't you feel anything like that just now?! The man kisses me on the forehead and returns to the table. The feelings went with it! Oh, how! So it was HIS feelings! That's the second bonus, I'm an empath now, no, an empath, that's cool!

"Should I turn on cartoons?" He says "Dad" and clicks something on the table. There was a buzzing and clicking sound above my head, and right in front of me, about two meters away, a three-dimensional picture appeared in the air, with some icons scattered in groups on a blue background, and numbers in the corner. "11:03:2355 10:22". Wow, we've decided on the date... it's the 24th century! The icons are signed with different abbreviations such as "CPiKRK from 1UO", try it, understand. Here the cursor appeared, it hovered over the icon with the image of a paper folder, signed as "miscellaneous", several windows flashed in a row ... and voila, a picture with a roaring lion appeared! She went all over the "screen", and... no, well, it can't be! "Tom and Jerry"! Hold me seven! It was worth dying to watch these cartoons again in a new life! Oh, ha ha ha, I can't, fack! Well, let's see!

Two hours have passed

Something is bothering me, some kind of discomfort. Damn, I'm hungry! And this "daddy" is stuck in his punch line, and it's like I'm not there! So, we need to get his attention somehow, maybe yell? Okay, I'll try:

"AAAAOOOO, OOOOAAAAA, VAA!"

I see there is an effect, he turns and looks at me:

"What are you doing, daughter?"

I stare back intently and, looking into his eyes, make a sound:

"ooooaaaa!"

"Daddy" slaps his forehead with his palm and exclaims:

"You're probably hungry at my place! I'm a fool! I forgot about you with my job!" he jumps up from his chair, quickly goes to the doorway, slaps the green mug with his palm, the door opens with a hiss, and he disappears somewhere in the house. Another hiss is heard, then something clinks, clinks, hums... everything is quiet. Footsteps were heard approaching, and he returned. He's holding a glass plate with something mushy inside. He takes a chair, sits down in front of me and starts the process of feeding me. Hmm, this "porridge" is a delicious thing, vegetable puree with meat paste. I turn over both cheeks, admiring my father's face. Like any loving parent, he accompanies every spoonful by opening and closing his own mouth, and it's getting harder and harder for me to watch. Oh, I can't take it anymore, I'm going to neigh like a horse! As a result, I choked and, mixing coughing and laughing, I burst into tears, which brought my father to a real panic attack. But everything passes, and this has passed. The folder ran off to the kitchen (well, where else did he get it all?) and he brought me a drinking bowl with an incredibly delicious compote. After drinking a compote, we continued our business: I watched cartoons, and the folder was working on a kool-aid.

An hour later

I heard a noise from behind the door, something rattled, the door slid open, and a beautiful woman of my father's age appeared in front of me, with dark brown hair, broken dark eyebrows above wide-set large gray eyes, with fluffy long eyelashes on a regular, Scandinavian-type face, but with soft lips. She was wearing a long fur coat made of thick, shiny black fur. Black pointed-toed boots with low heels were visible from under the fur coat.

"How are you doing here?" she asked, and then noticed the cartoon hologram. "So! What is this?" She asked, looking at her father. "Michael Shepard, I'm asking you! What is it?" She pointed at the hologram.

I'm stuck! What-what did she call my father? What's his last name? SHEPARD?! And it turns out that I am Eugenia Shepard?! Very interesting!..

March 25, 2355

So, one step, one more step, take your time, Eugenia, take your time, keep your head, keep your head, I say! Here is the corner of the crib, we intercept with our hands, and then a step, another step. I'm learning to walk! My legs are still weak, but my hands are already much better. It's early in the morning, it's just getting light, and my parents are sleeping on the couch with their arms around each other. A Barsik is lying at their feet and follows my steps around the crib with an attentive look. So, keep the balance, oops, the head is outweighed, eee! I manage to fold in half and land on the fifth point! Whoo! It took my breath away!

"Are you awake, my little one?" I hear my mother's voice, she looks at me with a smile, I smile back, grab the bars, pull myself up and stand up. My head is higher than the bars, and I sincerely crush my forehead and reach out to my mother. Yes! Now they are really parents to me. There was not only a bright side to empathy, but also a "dark side." It is impossible to remain indifferent under the pressure of parental feelings. Mom gets up, picks me up from the crib, and I'm just basking in a wave of maternal love. They put me on the potty while I do my chores, mom puts on a robe, and we hold hands and quietly stomp into the kitchen. There's a mega-device called a chairstool. It's a tall chair with a sliding table attached in the front.

Mom puts me in it, pulls up a table. I look out the window, and there are leaves blooming on a large, sprawling tree in the courtyard. The tree is strange: the bark peels off it, falls off in layers, and the leaves come out in a strange silvery-green color. A hefty brown dog walks thoughtfully around the yard, he is so big that he looks like a bear. And when this beast yawns, it seems that my whole head can enter its mouth!

"Come on, eat," mom says and puts a plate in front of me, in it porridge with pieces of fruit and some berries. I take a spoon in my right hand and start eating slowly. It's not working fast yet! There's a good chance you can get a spoon past your mouth. Meanwhile, Mom takes out a soft plastic container with a volume of one and a half liters from the pantry and goes out into the yard with it. The dog rushes to her with an expression of such intense joy that it seems as if his tail is about to fall off and, spinning like a boomerang, fly off into the far distance!

"Quiet, Polkasha!" Mom exclaims at the dog spinning around. "If you stay hungry, I'll dump all your breakfast past the bowl, and you'll eat from the ground again!"

But the dog doesn't seem to be intimidated by this prospect at all!

Footsteps are heard from behind, someone entered the kitchen, quietly came up to me and kissed me on the back of the head, showering me with adoration!

A Dad is awake! Mom came back from the yard, and I can hear her saying:

"Misha, how many times have I told you, don't walk around the house in your underwear! Well, you have a bathrobe!"

"Come on, Diane. I'm only here in the morning, and anyway, I'm at home, and that's what I want to wear!"

"Oh so! Look at the example you're setting for our boys! Just imagine if I start walking around the house in my underwear!"

"Oh! It will be a magnificent sight! You have nothing to hide and something to be proud of!"

"Double flattery! And anyway, in case you haven't forgotten, I'm seven months pregnant!"

"Oh-oh-oh! Ha ha! It's hard to forget and even harder not to notice! And anyway, come here, retired Major of the medical service! I'll explain to you all the subtleties of communicating with a senior! Hehe!"

"Take your hands off me, Mr. retired Captain of the first rank, what are you doing?"

There is scuffling and kissing sounds behind my back.

"Oh-oh! Michael Shepard, I love you, my husband! But now you go, put on a bathrobe, go up to the second floor and wake up our sons, and don't you dare contradict me! Is everything clear to you?!"

"Aw, Aw, ma'am! The order is clear! Allow me to perform!"

"Do it!"

And the father, humming some cheerful tune, leaves the kitchen.

Ten minutes later

"A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a! I'm the first one down!"

"No, I am, I am the first!"

"Nifiga, ha-ha-ha!"

It came from the stairs to the second floor. My two older brothers flew down it with a bang! This is the weather of Deniska and Leshka! Elbowing and puffing, they stumble into the kitchen.

"Hello, Ma!" says Deniska.

"Hi, Mom!" Leshka echoes him.

"So, young people, how should well-mannered chevaliers behave at breakfast? Come on, come out of the kitchen, and come in properly!"

The brothers went out the door, caught their breath, and sedately went back in.

"Hello, Mother," Denis said, bowing slightly."

"Good morning, Mom," Leshka said, repeating his brother's gesture.

"Hello children, have a seat at the table," Mom replied, bowing her head.

The guys went around the table, "accidentally" passing by my chair, and hugged me from both sides.

"Hello, little one!" Deniska whispered and kissed me on the cheek.

"Hello, Little Fox!" kissing the other one, Leshka whispered.

After that, they both sat down at the table.

Chapter 1.2 The brothers fell off the bike.

Three hours after

I'm sitting alone in the middle of the carpet in the children's room on the second floor of our house, talking softly to the cat. Slowly and gradually, my tongue begins to obey me.

"Tell me, Ba'sik, that's why my ton'ue listens so badly. I'm t'aining, I'm t'aining, I'm t'aining with you! And Tou'ko?"

The cat is silent, quietly purring, lying down on the carpet next to it, stretched out to its full length and rolling a wheel from some kind of machine with its front paws. The brothers have a whole box of this "scrap metal". Ehhh! Hopefully, the torment won't last too long.

"Is that' so, cat? I'll lea'n eve'ythin!"

Barsik purrs, squinting affectionately.

By the way, I managed to find out my location. An hour ago, Mom, holding me in her arms, turned on the huge TV. Uh-huh-huh! What a thing it is! A natural window into another world! So, there was news, and a pretty presenter, in quite decent English, broadcast that the current state of affairs in the colony of Mendoir is just fine, all mining and processing complexes are operating at full capacity, which will allow this year to increase the shipment of concentrate, increase the number of colonists and the income of existing ones. Then there was a block of interplanetary news about the new initiatives of the Citadel Council, about the work of the ambassador of the Alliance of Systems... hmm! It seems that in the canon, people should be on the council, but here is an ambassador, not an adviser.... Then there was the sports news block, and it all ended with the weather block. Everything is the same as always: the surroundings change, but the essence remains the same.

April 11, 2355

As usual, I was sitting at my chair by the kitchen window and looking out at how our cat and our doggie were playing with some kind of crap that looked more like scraps of a stuffed toy. You've turned one year old, Zhenya!

Suddenly, with a loud hum, a red and green bike flew into the yard. It's the same thing as in the sixth episode of Star Wars, only without the long thing with wings in front, the flying scooter is shorter. Both of my brothers sat on it in tandem, with Denis's face looking worried and guilty, and Leshka, who was sitting behind, looking tearful and scratched, while he strangely held his left hand. I made a sound:

"Ier-er-er!" I pointed out the window.

Dad went to the window, looked, his face took on a worried expression, anxiety was clearly playing in his emotions.

"Dayan," he said, "the guys are in trouble!"

"What's wrong, Mish?"

"Call an ambulance, Dayana."

Mom went into the living room and chirped at the terminal, and after a short chirping, a clear female voice came from there:

"Diane, my dear! Is that you, what happened?"

"Ray, I'm really glad to see you too, but I need you! My guys seem to have had a very good bike ride!"

"I'm on my way, honey, just don't worry, it's not good for you!" and slowly fading away. "Dack, Da-ack! Get ready soon, let's fly to the Shepards...." It is not known what the mysterious Duck replied, the connection was disconnected.

The front door buzzed, and my brothers appeared for all to see.

"Well and?" My father asked.

"Da-ad. We rode a bike here...." Denis looked at the floor and said, "Well, anyway, Leshka flew off and, it seems, broke his arm."

At that time, Leshka was hesitating next to him with trembling lips and eyes full of tears.

"So-o..." said the father.

"And how could this happen, driving without a limiter again?"

"Well, Da-ad!" Both of them howled. "Only small ones ride with a limiter."

"Yeah, so you're big?" Mom exclaimed.

"Well, mom!" They both howled again.

At the same time, the brothers looked the most dejected, and their emotions showed pity for each other and, for some reason, fear.

"Well, Aunt Ray will fly in now, and it will become completely clear what to do with you," said the father.

The brothers hunched their heads and looked at their mother with a strange hope.

"What are you watching? Hoping to get off easy?"

The brothers shuddered and looked at their father expectantly.

"What did I tell you?" My father asked.

"That we should be careful," Denis said.

"That you should drive without a limiter carefully," Leshka whimpered.

"And what about you?"

The brothers began to sob, both of them.

"Well Daddy... We didn't do it on purpose.... It's kind of like that! We didn't run into Ham on purpose!" The sobs turned into tears.

"So you also ran into Haymon? And how is he doing? Where is he, by the way?"

"Dad, Ham flew home, he was taken Tam away!" Deniska spoke through tears.

"So he also got beaten up! Well, Dakar will give him nuts! There will be science for you, to drive like crazy," Mom said, putting her hands on her hips.

There was a squeak from the informant at the door. I completely missed how the doctors arrived. There was some kind of long-shaped futuristic-looking thing behind the fence, but with the familiar outlines of a blue chandelier that twinkled fervently. Mom waddled over to the door and pressed on the flickering green hologram on the right jamb. The door opened and I walked into the room... my mouth dropped open! All so slender in a fitted snow-white suit with a bright red cross on her left forearm... a blue-skinned AZARI! It's just like in the "Mass Effect": tentacles on the head, and pigmented spots on the face — and she's so beautiful!

"Michael!" she exclaimed. "Where are they?"

"Admire it!" My father replied. "There's Leshka, he ejected from the bike!"

"Come here, Alexey, let's see what's wrong with you", I feel a flash of concern from Doc.

Leshka came up to her and held out his shaking left hand. An orange hologram flashed around the Asari's left wrist. She ran it along Leshka's arm, looked at the hologram, pressed her finger on the strange round pimple on the right side of her head and said:

"Duck! Bring a small treatment table and a suitcase with clips!"

I turned to the window and saw a tall Turian sidling through the gate! He was wearing a snow-white suit just like the doctor's, with a briefcase in his right hand and a long trunk placed vertically in his left. Moreover, our dog, twirling his tail like a fan, gets in the way under his feet, showing no signs of aggression, rather a stormy joy, as from meeting a good friend. That's right! What about the human colony?! Where the Turian and the Asari serve in the ambulance... nothing is clear. Well, okay, let's see ... the Turian entered the house, went to the middle of the living room, put a suitcase on the floor, took hold of the trunk with both hands, and I still didn't understand how, but this trunk suddenly turned into a long table, immediately put on the floor.

"Bring three chairs, Mish", Dr. Ray said.

Dad, under Doc's guidance, quickly arranged chairs around this table, and Leshka was seated on one chair. Doc took out a strange pistol, pressed its barrel against her brother's forearm, pulled the trigger, and there was a sound: "Ps-s-st," Leshka yelped.

"Well, well," the Turian said. "You'll feel better now, and we'll help you, my friend."

"Does it hurt?" Leshka mumbled.

"Do you feel your hand?" Ray asked.

"Er-er-er... no..."

"Well, it doesn't hurt," Duck said.

"By the way, Duck!" said the father. "Your eldest is hurt too, he's sitting at home!"

After that, a briefcase was placed on the table, which, unfortunately, blocked everything that was happening on the table from me. I fidgeted and whined, leaning to the right and then to the left in an attempt to see what was happening on the table, but all in vain. So I didn't see anything. When it was over, Leshkin's hand was wrapped in a cool white scarf.

"Okay, Michael," the doctor said, "You'll arrive at the hospital in two days, we'll remove the retainers there, and it's better not to strain your arm for a week. Do you understand everything, young man?" She turned to Leshka.

"Got it," my brother squeaked.

"And no bike racing! I'll rip off my piston and put it in today, too." Dr. Duck said.

"Mish, sit down, we'll arrange it, it's an accident anyway!" called Father Azari.

"Let's go," the doc said, "is the victim's name?"

"Alexey Mikhailovich Shepard."

"Age?"

"7 years old."

"Date of birth?"

"July 22, 2348."

"Place of birth?"

"Leonov City, Mendoir colony."

"Parents, Father?"

"Mikhail Alexandrovich Shepard."

"Age?"

"65 years old."

"The mother?"

"Hannah Diana Shepard."

"Age?"

"63 years old."

"Home address?"

"Leonov City, Strawberry Street 2, Whisper Ranch."

"Okay," the blue doctor said, "I'll fill out the rest myself."

Then the Turian Duck came up to me. I looked at him with undisguised curiosity, wide-eyed, and there was a lot to see. First of all, he looked like a game Turian and didn't look like one at the same time. He did not have so-called "mandibles", just his lower jaw was covered with cheeks with horny plates growing on them, with pointed ends curving closer to the chin below the chin itself and fused with the lower lip, under which fangs were hidden, looking down, four centimeters long. That's what I understand, teeth... The lower canines were much smaller: two and a half centimeters. The figure was dense, proportionally built, beautiful even to a human eye, and not that squalor — a product of Biovar designers. The hands are four-fingered, with the little finger thicker than the index and middle fingers, and only slightly shorter than the first. All the fingers on the hands ended in powerful, slightly curved claws. The Turian's skin was golden brown, his face had a colorful tattoo of white and blue lines woven into a complex pattern, his eyes were deep-set, with dark gray whites and an incredible, simply glowing bright blue iris around a round pupil. Curiosity radiated from him like a wave. I stretched out my hands and clenched my fingers into fists several times.

"That's right!" My father said with a smile. "Not a drop of fear, he immediately asks to be picked up."

"Yes, we can easily do that." Duck replied. "Come here, little one."

And he pulls me out of the chair. I didn't see anything repulsive up close, on the contrary. I ran my hand over the Turian's cheek: the skin was smooth, velvety to the touch and hot, about forty degrees, he already squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure and made a strange, purring sound, which was immediately picked up by our cat standing in the hallway.

"Are you going to Aunt Ray's?" I heard it from the left. Turning, she met the gaze of the Asari. She was smiling, which made her face even more attractive. Although, somewhere else! I reached out to her and was immediately taken away from Duck. The Turian laughed.

"That's right, Ray, everyone sticks to you, even the kids!"

I looked at the Asari with interest. Blue skin, soft and silky to the touch, appendages that slightly bounced under the fingers, a pattern of pigment spots, in the form of a complex pattern, around the amazing color of lilac eyes. By the way, the Asari had eyelashes, although there were no other types of vegetation on the skin. Strange.

"And what is your name, young lady?" Ray cooed.

"Zhenya," I replied. Wow, it turned out to be clean to say!

I see my father's joyfully surprised face, and my mother's already big eyes are wide open. Oh, to be naughty, so naughty! Poking my finger under Asari's chin, I said:

"Ray."

Then Azari's eyes got big, like two animeshki with her mom. She turned to Duck and pointed at him:

"Duck."

The Turian's jaw dropped, and I was overwhelmed by a wave of amazement. The adults were stunned into silence.

"Well, what's my name?" My father asked as he approached.

I smiled at him with all my twelve teeth and said:

"Misha's dad."

"Just look who's talking!"

My father said, laughing.

"I'm going to my hous!" Dr. Duck hurried on. "I need to examine my senior. Ray, let's go."

"Bye guys!" Azari said, and the medics gathered their things and left.

Chapter 2.1 This world, is everything wrong here, or is it...?

Eugene (Mendoir, April — June 2358)

April 11, 2358

The slowly rising sun illuminated the peaks of the mountains in the east, they are clearly visible from the window of my room in clear weather. It's been four years since I've been in this world, the world of a computer game that has come to life, so similar and at the same time completely different! It's been a year since I got my hands on a desktop terminal, and I've started a real brainstorming session. I managed to find answers to almost all my questions: They had never even heard of the Reapers here, there was a huge pile of contradictory information about the Protheans, and most importantly, everyone was absolutely sure that they had built both the Citadel and the repeaters. So what does that mean? The canonical events did not happen! But the most important thing is that there is no certainty that I am connected with them. However, "John" Shepard, like "Jane" Shepard, exist in reality, and the most amazing thing is that they are members of the same family!

Yes, on May 22, 2355, my younger brother was born, and my dad, according to the old Russian tradition, named his youngest son Ivan! He is very original! Mom, laughing, told him so. Well, my parents are retired military personnel: my dad is a captain of the first rank (or captain in the Anglo-American rank system), and my mom is a major in the Navy medical service. Plus, I'm a colonist from Mendoir, just like in the game, but in a crowd. And as far as I could remember, in the game, the colonist's entire family is killed, after which he (she) goes into the army. I'll get out of my skin, but I won't let them kill my family!

After Vanka was born, they pushed taking care of me onto my older brothers and our wonderful cat! The brothers were not particularly pleased, but the redhead seemed to be just happy. The mustachioed babysitter followed me around the house, played, slept, and accompanied me on trips to the center of the town. And after the brothers were allowed to take me out with them, Barsik and I became as much a part of the children's company in our village as my brothers, their Turian friends, Hamon (Ham) and Tamil (Tam), the sons of the same Dr. Duck, their Azari girlfriends named Vasil, the daughter of Dr. Ray, and a small Turian woman my age, Nain, the younger sister of Ham and Tam. Last September, I went to the local kindergarten equivalent, where a lot of amazing discoveries awaited me.

The clock on my desk read 6:30 a.m. Although a day on Mendoir is longer than a day on Earth by as much as 9 minutes, a year is shorter by 7 days. So we live by the time of the Alliance of Systems, that is, Greenwich Mean Time on Earth, plus a sunset-sunrise correction. The clock is periodically adjusted according to the signal of the planetary control virtin. The whole family is still asleep, but I get up earlier than everyone else and do exercises. Several yoga asanas mixed with classical gymnastics and weights on my arms and legs over two years of training have made me very strong for my age, improved flexibility, coordination of movements and motor skills. I remember well the weakness of the first year of my life and I want to be strong. Thank the extranet for the huge number of all kinds of video tutorials on physical education! The main language of the colony was Russian, although English was spoken by everyone, of course, the main language of the Alliance. Plus, they spoke in "basic" or basic galactic, aka "galact". It was developed by the Salarians, together with the Asari, as much as two and a half thousand years ago. Well, all the "strangers" spoke their native languages perfectly, a natural Babylon 5, not Mendoir!

And once, I bend my whole body forward, leaning on my hands, and twice, in the opposite direction. After all, a girl's body is much more flexible than my past, like rubber is straight. After six months of classes, I sat down on the splits completely, sitting in the lotus position also did not cause any unpleasant sensations. In general, everything is very good so far, except for one small disadvantage: an extremely low pain threshold. But I attribute this to a child's body, and I hope it will pass with age. I heard noises on the ground floor, probably mom got up and went to cook breakfast, and it's time for me to take a shower, brush my teeth and generally get ready. My brothers will take me to the garden soon.

Five hours later

There are also a whole bunch of youngsters from almost all races of the Citadel Space who go to my garden. And there are a lot of us in our, still junior, group: ten people of all colors and races, three Asari, three Turians (two boys and a girl), two Batarian girls! And, like the icing on the cake... the drell guy! That's such a gang of nineteen rodents-backs! Our group has two Azari teachers, both purple. The head of the group, Rien Vais, and her assistant, Taya T'dari. Since I'm considered a kind of child prodigy here, I've already kind of "learned" how to read. Looking at me, my whole group learned to read, after all, children of any kind have a very developed imitative instinct. They still read poorly, but that's not even four years old. As far as I've found out, almost all children develop about the same way, even Azari.

I asked our parents a question with my eyes wide open:

"Why is this, because Azari live a very long time and are considered adults from the age of one hundred?"

I received a very detailed response.

The Asari's maturation has three stages. The first stage, from birth to about fifteen years of age, is due to rapid growth and development, and intellectual abilities develop during this period of life. At the age of fifteen or sixteen, physical development slows down sharply, but does not stop, and a young Azari, who looks like a human girl of 13-14 years old, begins to improve intellectually. They study a lot, train, harden their mind and body, and this stage lasts up to about 45-55 years. Then the third stage of growing up begins: the young Azari begins hormonal restructuring, she grows up a little more, gets rounded in all the right places, and begins to develop mental abilities. It is at this time that Asari are taught to work with biotics and merge their consciousnesses in the so-called "embrace of eternity". Of course, the speed of development is very dependent on individual characteristics. Well, just like human.

The racial composition of the Mendoir colony is actually more extensive, but since Salarians or Vorks develop much faster than others, it was considered unnecessary to include their children in general groups. You're probably asking, where does Vorka come from? As the local online encyclopedia suggested to me, the vorka is actually a fairly advanced species, maybe inferior to humans and Turians in intelligence, but with a huge adaptation resource! In the Vorka Citadel Space, they are mostly employed in the mining industry, and as it turns out, they are excellent miners who are able to work in conditions where most members of other races simply die. That's why they work in the mines on Mendoir and live in large clans in mining villages. They rarely leave the villages themselves, and almost no one is allowed in, in general, they are recluses. And those thieves who hang out in all kinds of gangs are exiles from clans, complete outcasts and lumpens. For a Vorka, with a lifespan of thirty standard years, exile from the clan is the most terrible punishment. Because women are never expelled.

Our planet Mendoir actually belongs to the Asari Republic, and it is considered a human colony because the Rosenkov Materials Corporation has concluded a concession agreement with the Council of matriarchs for 20% of the total share of resource extraction. Since the corporation has little interest in the troubles of the Alliance of Systems Council, it hired staff for colonization, not really looking at race, but more at the professional qualities of the employees.

Wow, I've spread my mind over the tree... and they're going to congratulate me! So they built a round dance, put me in the center and, to the general screeching and squeaking, they began to sing: "As for Zhenya's name day, we baked a loaf..." Of course, I'm making a happy appearance, but I want to laugh, I won't save you! Oh well, I'll get over it. I am a recognized authority among our entire group, won in an unequal, from my side, of course, the Turians' struggle. Even on the first day at kindergarten, these two little ringleaders tried to build the whole group. And they built it, but they broke off on me. Well, it's not a small thing to compete with an adult in psychological pressure, even in a child's body. They recognized me as the head of the pack and calmed down (pack predators, damn!), and now with all their problems, the little ones first come to me, and then, if my solution does not suit them, to the teachers. To be honest, it bothers me beyond words....

By the way! I have two "girlfriends" here, although... they are really girlfriends. One is a Turian girl named Nain, the daughter of that very Dr. Duck. A great friend of Daddy's, a partner in the preference game. Actually, they've been friends since the Navy days, when my dad served as captain of the light cruiser Loki, and Duck (or Dakar Tanir) was the chief medical officer on the Turian dreadnought Smasher, and they, as it turned out, jointly chased Batarian pirates in the Skillian Reach. And they were catching up to the point that the father thundered to Duck in the infirmary, because the "Loki" infirmary was blown apart by a direct missile hit.

The second friend is Jean Batarian (full name is Gina Natol), and I met her at our ranch. Her dad is my assistant, and mine is the deputy chief engineer of the enrichment complex of the corporation. And the chief engineer at the complex is a Quarian named Tael'Rigar, and the corporation values him so much that they ordered him a special house, no less than ours, by the way, completely sealed, with air filtration and disinfection systems, and a huge glass bay window. It stands in our village on the second street called Strawberry, and Uncle Tael, having taken off his suit and put on a bathrobe, likes to sit in the bay window, admiring the life of the village.

The most amazing thing is that he differs from a human being only by a slightly different knee structure, and by his feet, which have only four toes. Like humans, there are five fingers on his hands, and his face looks more like an elf from fairy tales, with light lilac glowing eyes and pointed tips of ears. It's idiotic to make aliens three-fingered! Try to hold the rifle with three fingers and shoot at the same time. Igrodels suck! And his fingers, just like a pianist's, are long and flexible. And there are steel claws on the gloves of the skaf. At first I didn't understand why, I thought it was a weapon, until I saw how it worked on the toolbox. There are two times fewer buttons there than my father's, and twice as many buttons themselves. I once asked my dad how cool Uncle Tael's omny tool was, and he just rolled his eyes.

They sang a round dance and pulled me to the table, there is a cake. I saw through the window how his mother brought him and put him on the veranda of the group. A hefty cake, by the way, though, for twenty-one children's mouthfuls — in one bite. A hefty pot of compote was brought here from the dining room. And here, as it turned out, neither Turians nor Quarians have any dextroamines. And the blood of all races, without exception, is red, differing only in shades and composition. Of course, all races have dietary restrictions. So my cake is universal, suitable for all races ... which, alas, does not add to its taste.

Chapter 2.1

That reminds me! One day Uncle Duck came to visit us with his family: his wife and three children. His eldest sons are the same age as my older brothers, and since we are also neighbors, they are bosom friends, and all the mischief in the village is the work of my brothers and their Turian friends, plus Dr. Ray's daughters, as it turned out, are also our neighbors. Her name is Rayan T'rann. Uncle Duck's wife's name is Kaadi, and she's a former soldier of the Black Watch, an incredibly cool woman. So, when they all came to us for the first time, my younger brother turned exactly one year old.

The first thing that caught my eye was that the Turians have FIVE fingers on their hands, not four. When I was stunned to see this miracle and, confused with excitement, asked Duck about it, the answer amazed me... In fact, male Turians also have five fingers on their hands, just the ring finger and the little finger fused together. It happened in some very ancient times, when the Turians on Palaven still lived in trees. Men mostly hunted, usually on the surface. It is impossible to determine when the mutation occurred, but the four-toed ones gained an advantage in hunting due to a stronger grip, according to the theory. Nobody knows what really happened.

The women did not come down from the trees and were mainly engaged in gathering. Therefore, women still have five fingers and toes, the fingers themselves are much longer and more mobile than men, although the foot itself is smaller. The foot of the Turians looks amazing. As far as I have seen Nain in the pool and in the pictures on the net, four fingers are looking forward, and the index and little fingers are almost the same size, thick, with powerful sharp claws, the middle and ring fingers are much shorter and with flat thick nails! The thumb is turned back, and in men, by and large, it has completely atrophied, turning into a heel. But for women, although in a heavily stripped-down version, it has been preserved, and Turians can firmly grasp a pliable surface like a tree with their foot, and even hang upside down without any harm or consequences for themselves.