HAS LIFTED A

The horror has forced me to lift a sight to the sky. In zenith I have seen quietly falling sphere – pale, washed away, idea of a sphere, a sphere essence. Scientists have begun against me new attack, and to reflect it at me does not remain forces.
I stood on the bank of a gulf, and the sun overseas sat down. Sand was already cool, and the easy breeze has brought a thin smell of colours of an acacia – it seemed, as if so the sun smells. It was coast Apsherona, I was brought here by parents when to me it was executed eight, we had a rest in a small small house and cooked to myself food – I speak «because also me the work part got: to bring chips for a fire on which the father fried amazing meat to taste with what I did not eat more never.
The Chuhnovsky has heard, and I have stood, amazed with force of its consciousness, its belief and its pleasure during this last instant for it on the earth.

I listened and looked, and was afraid, that the memoirs scrap will depart, will be broken off, and Podolsk will stop. I was afraid of it and so happens.
It has lifted a head and has seen the person standing on the brink repeat and looking round itself with infinite surprise.
– My God, Your affairs … are however nice – muttered Chuhnovsky. – You Are reasonable and blest, Prisnosushchy, is all-powerful and vsevedushch You … be blest, our Lord …
– Arcady Valerievich, is there was Henry Podolskogo's voice, – it is really not enough Our own memoirs. Without genetic memory not to manage.

I really knew it because saw sight Faja directed on me – on the one hand, and Minozisa – with another. To me even has seemed for an instant, what if I will make a step sights of Scientists will face, and there will be a terrible explosion because energy – spiritual, of course, but unless it mattered? – Was enough to incinerate the small sizes a city. And can, and big? And can, and the Earth these two sights if could face with each other could incinerate all?
The dome over our heads has unexpectedly become red-hot, from the sky as if the terrible summer simoom, has fallen heat, he has embraced me, has seized me by hands, has compressed my shoulders, a spasm has held down feet. At first it seemed to me, that it is spiritual heat, heat of someone's soul, but during a next instant I have understood, that was mistaken – from fields Ialu powerful evaporations have risen, it evaporated from heat not emerged yet and never any more vsplyvushchie essence. Groans pressed them to me on ears, on whisky, I and itself was ready to moan, I have become puzzled, and though should order the not numerous army, but something was not capable not only to tell acceptable, but even coherently to think.
– Natalia Leonidovna, – I have told. – it is a pity, that we so communicated, but if you here a little, means, something is and in your memory without what us not to manage …
– Ariman, – has told Antarm, – you again hurry up. Your haste hardly has not ruined the world. Now your haste hardly has not ruined you most.
Contrary to a gravity the sphere has swept uphill a hill. Daena tried to rise, clinging to bush branches, the wind which has become by hurricane, threw it on the earth again and again, she did not look downwards, its sight has been directed to my party and something spoke, about something asked or on the contrary – ordered, but created Faem a barrier, probably, did not pass as well thoughts.

But full darkness any more was not, he has felt the otdelennost from the world and has slightly opened eyelids though was afraid to be blinded. Light, however, has appeared soft, not such, as at the moment of creation. Light was, that is, there was a world, but the world was empty, differently he by all means would see its contents.
Ariman has smiled. Its memoirs were shown by thin streams of a fog as if the forgotten cigarette smoke, and flowed to the one to whom should belong.
In a thought immovability images at first were born. They were static and with each other are not connected in any way. I and remember them could not, because after all and memory without thought, without comprehension is dead, as a statue.
– I love you … – I have told, hoping words to excite in Daene if not the feeling given to me entirely, then memoirs on it.
The fiery sphere of the sun blinded eyes, light whiteness looked a soft and caressing background, and the gloom failure underfoot any more did not seem such awful because Ormuzd knew now: a gloom – a material for creation. It has bent and under steadfast sight Arimana has spent a palm on repeat. Prickles smoothed out, rumpled, tverd turned to the drift sand streaming between fingers. Sand was yellow because reflected solar beams, and joyful because so it would be desirable Ormuzdu.

– Yes, your genetic memory. Not by time car, oh, damn, you have appeared in the nineteenth century! – Henry Podolsky has interfered. – you do not know, what poor creature Shmul, committed suicide because of Abram's intrigues was your ancestor? Whether yes you in general were dug in the genetic memory after have ascended from field Ialu? Than you here were engaged, Arcady? For the love searched? You and that did not understand too, what your love, and your essence – all in your memory, and anywhere is more? And who has killed me? You that, and that have not understood, what it was made too by your memory? All! – has unexpectedly interrupted own passionate speech Podolsk. – time has come to an end, Arcady Valerievich. Let's operate. Order.
– To order? – I, and during this moment have perplexed said a dome erected by Scientists, have become isolated with silent vshlipom, having separated us from the world. Should be, only this sound lacked me to understand at last, that wished to tell – and has told, he after all did not speak obinjakami! – Henry Natanovich Podolsky, the former expert in hereditary memory and incarnations. Not that that the veil has fallen from my eyes – exact, by the way speaking, expression though also unduly literary, – but I really was here the only thing who saw the purpose, the sense knew and understood a problem.
It has lifted a head and has seen the person standing on the brink repeat and looking round itself with infinite surprise.
The teacher has not finished a phrase. The dome has fallen upon me all weight, Alain has even more strongly nestled on me – under infinitely heavy blanket of a dome we were with it one. During this instant which has united all instants of both our Universes from the beginning of times, I have felt, that we with Alenoj always were together and always – one. We were with it the first man and the woman who was not understanding still, that such love, but knowing, that there is in the world nobody more expensively each other. We were with it Antoniem and Cleopatra, Parisom and Elena, Faust and Grethen, Tristanom and izoldoj, and even Romeo with Juliette which never existed in a reality, having started to live not in the world, but at once – in memory human. We were billions men and women that loved each other from a source of times. We were millions from them, given for love the lives. And thousand who could change the love a history current.