The Gigahruschevka Sun

The prolonged sound of the alarm caught Andrei seven floors up to his own living quarters. When he heard the siren, he froze, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from, and immediately rushed down the stairs. Jars of concentrate and canned goods clattered against each other, rattling around in the valise. Jumping three or four steps, he quickly passed three floors, but stopped on an empty platform, calculating the time. The excitement prevented him from thinking properly - seconds and minutes were confusing in his head, and it was impossible to know whether he would make it in time. The man was about to rush downstairs again, but stopped and thought of the locked hermetic door behind which his son was hiding. He had strictly forbidden to open it, and there was no good reason to run there. Besides, he wouldn't have had time. Andrei looked around and rushed to the nearest doorway leading to the living quarters.

Red lamps burned under the ceiling, casting a disturbing light on the gray corridors. Black silhouettes of people running could be seen in the corridor and doorway ahead. One by one, the hermetic doors closed and locked. It was less than a minute to the nearest protected point, the same amount of time it felt like before the self-collection began. Drops of salty sweat ran down his forehead and cheeks, touched his lips, which were instantly dry from the fast running and excitement. Work boots clattered on the concrete floor, cans banged against each other, spreading an irritating clatter through the corridors. At the next turn, the thought of throwing the damn bag flashed through his mind, but instead Andrei wrapped the net around his hand and pressed the burden to his stomach.

He reached the corner, and to his delight saw an open door, in the opening of which stood a woman with a child clasped to her breast. The woman had apparently just reached her own home. When she saw Andrei, she was horrified and immediately pulled the heavy door open. Seizing the opportunity, he rushed to her, grabbed the iron sheet, not allowing the woman to close the door, and squeezed through the narrow opening. Pushing her away with the weight of his own body, he closed the passage and turned the handle of the lock. Behind him came the cry of a child - the woman was lying on the floor, toppled over by the intruder. Protecting the child with her hand, she stared in horror at the strange man. He turned around several times, casting a worried look, and said nothing, listening to what was going on behind the thick metal. Someone ran past the door. A little later, a jogger approached their cell, slapped on the door, and ran on.

The mother and her child lifted themselves up and crawled to the sofa, keeping their eyes on the man. She still held the child with one hand, and with the other she began to search mindlessly for something on the couch. Finding a spoke, she grabbed it and pointed it in the alien's direction. The tip of her ridiculous weapon trembled. The frightened mother defended her child, desperately roaring because of the fall. Andrew looked at the woman again and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

" You what?" - he said. - "I'm only here for the duration of the alarm. It'll be over now, I'll leave."

In confirmation, the man raised his hands, showing the absence of weapons. However, the end of the spoke was still staring at him.

"I have a child sitting there alone myself," Andrei tried to explain his arrival. - "It's about to run out, I'll leave. He's alone in the cell."

As if the woman did not hear him, she continued to clutch the needle in her hand, pointing it at the unexpected guest. Then the hostess began to approach slowly, shuffling her feet unsteadily. Andrei looked at the frightened woman for a few seconds, then took a step towards her, grabbed her hand firmly, causing her to shriek, snatched the needle and threw it to the far end of the room. The child had been screaming the whole time. Saying nothing more, he went to the door and focused again on what was happening in the hallway.

" I have my husband in there," came her soft voice. - "He's in there."

"He wasn't in there," Andrei replied after a while. -"There was no one in the hallway but me."

"You closed the door," she sobbed. - "He thought I didn't wait."

"There was no one there," he repeated. - "Must have hid somewhere."

" And if he didn't?" - It was hard for her to speak. - "If you-if he-"

She never finished what she was going to say. The words were interrupted by the baby's sobs and cries. The woman clasped him to her and began to rock him, trying to soothe the infant. After a couple of minutes Andrei looked at her again, fearing that she might have picked up a needle or some other object. She was sitting hunched over the child, who was gradually calming down. The man looked around the cell, which was not much different from his own - a sofa, a closet, a TV, a desk and a rug hanging on the wall. Andrei lingered on it, studying the interwoven red, white, and green patterns. Carpets in this condition were rare, and apparently the woman had spent more than a dozen saved coupons on it. He'd never understood the point of such a thing and, looking at what most likely represented the pride of the mistress, he wrinkled his nose.

Ten minutes later, heavy footsteps and clattering sounds were heard outside the hermetic door - the liquidators were running towards the self-assembly. Since no gunfire, screams or flamethrowers could be heard, most likely the floor where Andrei was was not affected by the self-assembly. One could only hope that his own floor was also out of harm's way. He glanced at his watch and started counting down the time. The child had calmed down and stopped screaming, but the mother still sat with a frightened and lost expression.

Twenty minutes later, the red light went out, the siren went silent, and Andrei immediately opened the door and rushed into the hallway, leaving the passage behind him open. He ran to the nearest corner, past the garbage chute, then directly thirty meters across the tiled floor and ended up on the stairs. Rattling with the contents of his purse, he jumped a few steps. The old handrail, repainted countless times, shook under the man's weight. Three floors below, he collided head-on with another resident of the gigahouse, knocking him over, but he didn't even think about stopping and continued running down the steps. There were curses and insults following him, but Andrei paid no attention to them.

Once on his platform, he rushed through the doorway. Not not noticing an obstacle in the dark passage, the man did not slow down and to his surprise he ran into someone. The person standing there threw Andrei back with a puff, which made him hit the concrete wall and collapsed to the ground.

"Where are you going, idiot?" - he heard a bellow from the gas mask. The liquidator was looking down at him from above, pointing the barrel of his automatic rifle at him. - "There's a sweep in progress!"

" I live here!" - he clutched the hand with the bag to his chest. - "Cell 12, Block D."

"Sweep in progress!" - the gas mask roared again. - "Get up! Leave the station!"

Instead of unnecessary arguments, the liquidator approached and kicked Andrei's foot with a heavy boot. He nodded fearfully, showing his empty hands. From the depths of the corridor of the home block, two more armed liquidators looked at him, ready to help their coworker at any moment. The man crawled a few meters to the side, carefully stood up and climbed down a few steps. Standing near the railing, he looked deep into the corridor, waiting for the cleanup team to leave and looked at the liquidators. To his surprise, he realized that they had set up a cordon on the floor for some reason, even though the red light had already gone out. Andrei stomped in place, not knowing how to stand up or where to put his hands. Unpleasant speculations came into his head. Vague snippets of voices from gas masks were heard. Because of the pile of disturbing thoughts he was in a state of great excitement. The arriving group could inspect the destroyed cells....

Finally, a command was heard, and the armed liquidator dismounted from his post and went deep into the block, saying nothing to Andery. Treading uncertainly on his own floor, the man followed him. Though all the doors were closed, he was sure that behind each of them at that moment stood curious residents, watching intently through the thick metal. Quite close, around the corner, a woman's scream was heard, lasting a few seconds. Clutching his valise to his chest, the man paused briefly to listen, but soon continued on his way. He could hear the liquidators' conversations and the operation of their equipment more and more clearly.

Once in his own corridor, he froze in place as he studied the scene before him. There were large black stains on the walls and floor, which meant that the slime had been burned, and in two places there were dark red stains, over which the liquidators were bent, collecting samples. Next to one of them, a neighbor sobbed, holding her palm near her mouth. Large tears rolled down her haggard face. She was shaking her head, apparently refusing to believe that the red stain on the floor and wall had recently been someone close to her.

" It's not him," - she sobbed. - "It can't be him. Check again... Please..."

The liquidators standing next to him stepped aside and Andrei saw something that made him want to howl. The door to his cell was open and apparently someone was working inside as well. Feeling a rumbling in his chest, he hesitantly took a step, looking at the armed men, and, seeing no reaction, quickly went to his cell. Already at the very entrance he was stopped again.

" Where to?" - growled the liquidator, pushing the resident in the chest with the palm of his hand.

" I live here! This is my cell! Number 12, cell block D!"

"Stay here! " - followed a gruff order.

"What's your name?"

"Smirnov Andrei Viktorovich."

"Stay here! Don't move!"

The liquidator looked inside, received a silent command, and then indicated for Andrei to enter. The man carefully passed the guard and stepped into the living cell. There were two men inside - one was working with a home terminal to which a laptop computer was connected. The other, tall and shouldering, stood right in the middle of the room and looked at Andrei through the lenses of a gas mask. The master looked around the cell - at first glance everything was intact and it seemed that they hadn't even searched it. With a gesture the liquidator ordered the man to sit down. He sank down on the sofa and looked around the room - the TV was on opposite. The display read "Pause" in large letters and "Level 13" just below it. The joystick lay on the floor. He clutched the holster to his body.

"Where's my son? His name is Kolya," the man asked timidly.

There was no answer, and Andrei decided to wait in silence until they turned to him. The computer operator was clicking the keys of his computer, looking at the monitor of the home terminal. Apparently there was a data exchange in progress. Two minutes later, the operator turned and shook his head.

"The answer is negative. It's from cell block E, cell 20."

" Copy that," said the senior. - "End the session."

The operator nodded, typed in a few commands, disconnected the wires from the terminal and went out into the corridor.

" Well, Andrei Viktorovich?" - The liquidator turned to the owner of the cell. - "Have you learned to close the door after leaving? You in the correctional center to direct?"

"I always close it!" - Andrei tried to justify himself. - "I close! I went out! Here!" - he picked up a bag of food. - "My son was here. Kolya! He always closes the door, too! I always taught him that! And, by the way, where is he?"

The frightened father looked out into the corridor, where he could see red stains on the floor. Two chemists were already scrubbing them off, using a sprayer and brushes. He swallowed dryly as he watched the specialists' actions.

"Your son is not here. Where he is, we don't know."

A nervous smile flashed across Andrei's lips, though the fear and excitement did not diminish in the slightest.

"And how? Where is he? He was here before the self-assembly. He was playing a game, he's paused over there."

"We don't know where your son is," - repeated the liquidator threateningly. For a few seconds he stood silent, and then added. - "Does Alexander Nekrasov sound familiar?"

"No," Andrei frowned, thought for a few seconds and shook his head, "I don't remember anything. Who's that?"

"A classmate of your son's. Floor 412, Block B."

"Oh, Sashka?" - It hit the man. - "Sashka Nekrasov! I don't know his last name. That's why I didn't realize it right away."

" We have quite accurate information that Alexander Nekrasov has contacted the Black Gods. In the last cycle he left his family, most likely, to the sectarians. We think your son Nikolai has also gone to them."

" Black Gods...?" - Andrei opened his mouth in surprise. - "Why, he's never... He's never once... It can't be."

" It can't be," the liquidator hummed. - "But the fact of his connection with the Black Gods has been established."

" And what about Kolya...?" - the surprised man raised his hand as if asking for alms. - "He couldn't have left during the self-collection."

" You're not a sectarian yourself?" - ignoring the question, the man in the gas mask said.

" Me? No, not at all!" - he shook his head negatively several times.

" And what's this?" - The liquidator pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

The owner of the cell only now noticed that the pieces of cloth, representing curtains, had been opened and behind them, right in the center of the wall, a square picture of two horizontal strips could be seen. The lower, thinner one was green, the thicker upper one was blue with a yellow circle in the corner.

" What is that, I ask you?" - he repeated the question, which sounded even more rude and insistent.

" It's..." - Andrew was embarrassed and began to remember pre-made excuses for just such an occasion, but he could not overcome his excitement and finally told the truth. - "It's the earth and the sky. And the sun."

" And what do you think the earth is? What is the sky?"

" Well it's..." - The man thought again. - "It's out there, beyond the gigahrusch."

" Idiot," the liquidator stated. - "There is no sky. And you don't have a son anymore."

" So he didn't disappear in the self-selection?" - Andrei asked hopefully. - "He's gone, then?"

"You should be charged for that too," the liquidator pointed to the posters hanging on the wall. - "For stealing public property. But in the present situation we'll overlook it."

"So it is," the owner tried to justify himself with a silly expression. - "It's the other way around. Kolya wants to become a liquidator. He'll go to the research institute."

The liquidator ignored his upset father and only shook his head incomprehensibly, heading for the exit. Andrei, who felt his whole body trembling, followed him with a glance and stared at the doorway, where several more armed fighters passed by. A new voice was heard - low, but loud and not "gas masked". The man spoke in a confident, commanding manner. This voice, full of a positive, almost joyful mood, contrasted vividly with what the block had just experienced.

"So, you're saying three are missing? Two confirmed? Blood and all?" - every question was answered by the liquidator's muttering. - "Is that a sure thing? They couldn't have been taken? Who's the third? The kid? No trace of him? He escaped, then," followed a prolonged muttering. - "Of course he escaped. The Black Gods, unfortunately, threw their net here long ago."

Andrei listened to the conversation, which grew louder and clearer. The source of the voice was getting closer.

" Have you spoken to your father? Doesn't know anything, huh? Well, okay. Let's see. Spread the word to the nearest precincts. Maybe they'll say something."

In the doorway appeared the silhouette of a short full man with a briefcase in a dark gray suit, from the sight of which Andrei raised his eyebrows in surprise. The stranger paused for a second to look inside the open cell. He seemed to smile faintly and walked on, accompanied by the liquidator.

"Partocrat?" - The man whispered aloud to himself. - "What's he doing here...?"

A deep crease ran between his eyebrows. Sitting on the sofa in front of the wall hung with pictures of liquidators, Andrei ran through his memory of past self-assemblies and work at the factory, trying to remember if he had ever seen a representative of the upper and best floors of the gigahrusch.