TO THE

When to me was seven years and parents were still live, the father has led me in a zoo. The Moscow zoo – in general a strange place where not always you understand who at whom has come to look: people on animals or animals on visitors. Many animals here were either genetic konstruktami, or defective clones. We have gone to open-air cages with tigers, have approached to a barrier, and I in confusion have receded, because a tiger (and can, it there was a tigress?) Stood, having put forepaws on a concrete crossbeam, and looked me in the face absolutely reasonable sight. It was not necessary to be neither the telepathist, nor the expert on animal psychology to understand, that this Ussuriisk handsome man wished to tell. Even in my seven years and in the absence of experience of dialogue with predators it was clear to me: the animal loved me – not how the dog or a cat and how mum could love me only loves the person. In a sight there was so much purely human warmth, participations, desires to caress and feed with sweet porridge, that I have involuntarily lifted a foot to jump through the thread of a protecting cable stretched low over the earth and if not the iron grasp of the father who has seized very much mine kurtochku, during a next instant would happen the irreparable. To me did not threaten in tigrinoj to graze destruction, but the electric category would amaze me for certain …
– Here it that … – I have stretched. – not only that I am dangerous to the nature so I also influence with whom I communicate also to whom I tell about my Moscow, about my work …
I flied all faster. Only once I have looked back, remembering: Daena, left on a glade showered with solar beams as if jarkozelenymi stalks, and a sphere hanging over trees and as if deliberating that to it to do. The sphere did not show aggression, but at any moment could become the enemy and if in the first to fight I was rescued by love Daeny whose love or whose other strong feeling could rescue me now?
No, it was only reflexion in a sky mirror. We were together and when the sun has blown up, and the heated lumps of a star have stuck to me into a brain, I knew, as in the new world we with Alenoj will be together. Now – for ever.
On the brink field Ialu, on all its considerable perimetre there were dark figures, not that that transparent, but any vague as if energy of thought was in them more than material maintenance. It were Scientists among whom I have learnt Faja and Minozisa. Faj still seemed me similar to Henry Podolskogo though now, looking it is not so much on appearance of this person, how many in its essence, I understood, that similarity actually rather relative.
I have turned back, and it was an error. Sight Minozisa became the steel rope which has fallen to my shoulders similarly lasso, thrown by the skilful cowboy. Move I could not. Moreover, my thoughts too have fallen asleep. If there is no thought movement, it is impossible to recollect. If there are no memoirs, their energy does not stream in the world. And then …
Should be, these words has heard and Ariman. It has approached to Ormuzdu and was bent for edge repeat, peering into a gloom. Its person became pale to blue, as if smeared with surrounding light.

metalnikov, given all energy of the memory in fight with Scientists, knew about the act no more, than about the one whom was in a material world and this woman was whom for it once, Daena, he perfectly knew whose former name, but now … is not present, now remains only admiration of beauty and desire to serve. The desire to serve and execute orders was nature of this person. The memory, whatever it has appeared, could add nothing to this essence.
Ormuzd looked forward to hearing, but its thought did not become a question, and light was silent, as the gloom was silent also, and on a prickly surface repeat it felt more and more uncomfortably. Light stirred to it because was everywhere – there where there was no gloom. Obeying an instinct, and at all reason arguments, it has crumpled light, and the gloom has rushed between fingers, and light istonchilsja, became dense, Ormuzdu that it has made was pleasant, and it has moulded a sphere from light and strong movement of a hand has thrown it upwards because the sphere has burnt to it fingers. Light has flied up over tverdju and has fallen asleep.
I have turned back, imagining, that now I will see mum with the potato peeler in a hand, and the father kindling a flame from sunset sparks falling from the sun. The dark female silhouette against already dark east sky was familiar to me so, that I was mistaken:
What could I make? What could hero Edgara make On if to it unexpected rescue – the God from the car has not come?
With this thought have agreed even Khrustalyov with metalnikovym – people for whom absence of a matter meant absence in the pure state: anything. Spiritual, ideal for them it was equivalent nesushchestvovaniju.

I stood on a dry islet among a bog. The strange thought was materialised, a sweaty drop has rolled down from a forehead and has begun to flow on a breast: I have co me to the world anew? What for? To repeat the way and once again to accept the defeat?
Also what then – memory? A kind of spiritual energy which in this world I possessed one. The energy brought by me from other world, whose physical laws are distinct from laws of the world of it. Energy of my memory is for certain capable, passing in a material condition to initiate the physical processes unknown in this world and for certain for it destructive.
I have lived in this world some days and have not learnt about it almost anything, even the main thing is there was a poetry world, the music world, the art world, and I of it did not know anything, occupied with myself and past. The musical refrain and a poetic line defined, it appears, an essence of each material subject and supplemented an essence true, non-material, spiritual. Trees in wood sounded in a unison as if pipes of archangels, and these sounds were so pure, that I could not compare it any real voices which to me could be heard in last life.

Pinhas Chuhnovsky, having put the person to a memory stream, has seen itself eyes Arimana – is not present, Arcady, such w as then his name – in a room where on regiments stood ancient, in leather covers, religious books, and the conversations with the detective has recollected, but to understanding of own essence it almost has added nothing. About everyday – and what could inform memory Ariman? – Could not help, and the former rabbi has driven away this knowledge, as drive away badly smelling stream of a cigarette smoke. It did not suffer, when at its presence smoked, he suffered from it, he and now suffered from memoirs which to it imposed Ariman, he did not want them, he wished to serve the Lord how that was demanded by Light streaming around instead of how has got used to do it once in the world a little adapted for acceptance Divine.
It was one. This sensation – sensation of loneliness – too was new and deprived of its happiness. Gradually he has started to understand – not to feel, namely to understand; to think, and not just to perceive existing, – that the happiness any more will not be. Never. The happiness is self-sufficient. It was happy, when there was one and did not understand own loneliness. It was happy in infinity of a gloom, and then in infinity of light, but, having separated light from darkness, it has ceased to be happy because, having created one simple alternative, has understood, that can create more and more. Creating, you can not be happy.
And it remembered? In consciousness vague images were born, and he understood them. It were the images which edges disappeared in a fog, and then were slowly shown – together with sounds, smells and any other sensations which it could not define yet.

At any moment two images have developed together, and it meant, that movement all the same exists, at least in the form of a simple physical interference. And then I at last have understood, that I live.
– Ariman, – has told Minozis, I knew, that he spoke, but it seemed to me, that all Scientists say words in a unison, making strange impression of chorus a-chapel. – these people too should leave the world.
– I was your enemy when carried out the professional duty, – the Inspector admitted. – is more exact, is not present – not the enemy, you were object against which I should direct the professional actions.
Other seven which have risen on tverd from a gloom, were familiar with each other. Names vaguely appeared – but whether there was it memory or only an instinct demanding though any self-identification? Names became a dust, and attempts of everyone began a dust to understand themselves, the world and in the world. The dust – yellowish as sand underfoot, – acted at them on shoulders, palms, and at standing hardly away from the others the person by name of Antarm a thought dust has powdered even hair.
– Yes in any other force he does not trust in general! You think, he trusts owing to your Moscow criminal investigation department or your anti-semites, or yours shokatorov? He even in own forces does not trust, differently would not sit in a synagogue which do not close because Moscow criminal investigation department uses it for information reception. What, you did not know? You amaze me, it is known to each Jew! Well, you not the Jew. And so, I say to you, that a pulse ceremony denura yet …