Loe raamatut: «NEONOO, or PARADISE IN THE NOOSPHERE»
© ALEXANDER CHERENOV, 2019
ISBN 978-5-0050-8770-6
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Chapter one
…Where I am? And what am I doing here? I do not remember anything… No, I lie: I remember something. That’s about «what am I doing here?» Something happened… precisely with me. Oh, so what? What exactly? I must remember… Oh, yes: it seems, the other day I died… No, it does not seem: I just died! That’s why there are Ilf with Petrov in a head: «So much work has been loaded – I’m afraid, as if not to die!» It’s funny, but I was afraid too. And here is the result: I died. Someone took my life from me – and I died.
So say after this, that they do not die of fear! You need evidence?! Here it is – me! I am absent there and present… I feel a cold sweat break through me. I don’t feel the sweat itself, but I feel like I am getting through. And then: if I can argue on the subject of personal death – and not hypothetical, but held – that means, I… That’s classic: «cogito ergo sum!» «I think – it means I exist!» And this is no longer a philosophical abstraction: a fact! The fact of personal example and direct participation!
So, calm down. Although, what here, to hell, calm? I want to believe, but I cannot believe! And what should be done in order to believe? What do they do in the first place? Probably, they bring thoughts in order – and, so to say: «forward – on milestones, with a cheerful laugh!» Well, «remember them by name». Glory… I do not know to whom, there – god or hell – but my memory, it seems, did not go away… on the way to «another world». So, «I remember here, but I don’t remember there» – this is not about me.
So: I do not remember exactly how, but I certainly died. We will remember. So: it seems, I watched TV – and, it seems, hockey. «Russia» in the semifinals, «courageously» surrendered to Canadians with superior fees. Courage plucked on three – seven. We got a chance to «win the bronze» (previously only the first place was considered a win). I will not argue what exactly happened to me, not to mention what happened to them. Although, what could have happened to them?! Nothing: the guys calmly managed without snot – and immediately went to their «Canada» to receive the next «labor» millions.
And, here, I… It seems, that my head was spinning – and not from success. I remember that it «arrived». Not added – thoughts, there, or other property – namely, «arrived»! The blood, perhaps, surged, or the brains shuffled, but it took me down with my head. I remember, that I even managed to be surprised: «That turns out to be how it happens!»
And then I remember only one failure – not a memory failure: it’s too original even for me: remember… failure in memory! I mean failure as an action and «end station». Impenetrable darkness worked out for such – and in passing, and for the road. I remember, that at this moment my head was not mine, but something, tightly wrapped… dense. The most curious thing: I did not feel pain. In none of the moments: neither at the start nor at the finish. So, he just took it and died… Well, I already said: someone took it, but I died.
I don’t speak for «later»: I don’t remember. Surely, there was a classic: «the old mother will cry in the corner, the father will brush away the tear the…» So, I will not lie about the «wires to the last journey». I also do not want to fill in the spirit of the heroes of Raymond Moody’s books «Life after death» and «Life after life». In other words: I do not remember being separated from myself, and, having soared under the ceiling in the form of a spirit, he looked around at his «soulless» body. I do not remember any «light at the end of the tunnel», where I was, according to the scenario, must be waited for by extremely happy relatives and «representatives of the administration of the other world».
I will not say anything for the details of the civil memorial service, which, of course, was, albeit in Russian simply utterly. Or, maybe, there was even a speaker in the spirit of Chekhov’s Zapoikin, who crushed a tear from the participants of the event with the words of the classic: «Can you believe your eyes and ears? Is it not a terrible dream, this coffin, these tearful faces, groans and cries?» Although, does it really matter, how I was «escorted»? Yes, and the «last» whether this «path», if I now have the opportunity to argue on its theme?
What is it that turns out: they took away my life, but I stayed?! Or did my «I» remain? But in any case: there is something left – and this is already something. The first… no, the second thing – I look around. No, I’m lying: this is the third thing. And the second thing is… The second thing… I grope myself. I grope – and I grope for nothing. Well, nothing at all. Because there is nothing to feel: under my hands there is nothing. Although I’m lying again: I don’t have a hand the same way as nothing else. But one thing I can say for sure. No, and again I lie: two I can say for sure. First: I looked at myself. And second: I did not see myself. I have not seen – and still do not see.
But I clearly remember both processes, if only because both have caused in my soul… the same discomfort in me… Discomfort… What unbecoming elegance this is! What, there, to hell, discomfort: a sense of horror! And not some, there, provincial: inexpressible! Not conveyed by words… and all the rest!
But this, it seems, is the very beginning only. Further, as it should be – more. The process, as they say, «went» – and I see… that I am not the only one, who is just as «noticeable»! That’s because I do not notice anyone, although I notice how much diligent! Around me… exactly like this: at three hundred and sixty degrees… «within sight»… how could I put it more softly… there is not a soul or something! The lack of shower «colorfully» is complemented by the lack of everything the rest. Around – as well as in any other geometry – there is not only no one, but nothing! And yet the big question is, is there even this «around»… along with the rest of the geometry?!
And indeed: the eye – or whatever I have – does not notice anything in front of itself… and in all other directions. Not even a classic white veil or the same classic impenetrable darkness. There is only – and also the classic – «the presence of absence». Here, really: «I go out alone on the road…"! Well, about the road – it’s me too… so: what, there, to hell, the road!
I will not lie: I feel uncomfortable… or not for «something», that personifies my essence now. For the stealth hat, I don’t think: it’s unlikely, that I was supplied with a fabulous inventory. What is the point?! What then? Am I alone really, and this is my personal hell, the one that is taught to man by modern fiction? But why then I still am «not involved in the work» – as an application to the boilers and pans? Why do they allow me to spend my unproductive potential and working time?!
I get scared by these thoughts. All my life I have dreamed about loneliness, about peace, about philosophical silence, but now I am not happy without any «for some reason»! Probably, it was not about such loneliness, that «there was a speech» on my thoughts… «On my thoughts»… I am then processed again: maybe, I now consist only of thoughts? Maybe, I am just a memory of myself? No: I’m distracted by the theme of «myself, the present». The bearer of that memory is not given. Then who am I? And, most importantly – where am I? And more importantly: what I am? And finally – the most important thing: why am I here? If as a «consumable» – that’s unpleasant, but understandable. But if… Ah, here it is everything else that is… it is not clear. Totally incomprehensible!
So, calmly, mate: «cogito ergo sum». If I think, it means that all is not lost, even despite the fact, that nothing has been found. But we will look! I have time, as I understand it… although I do not understand anything… a lot of… because not a single second: time, after all, is a property of matter. But «Nothing» is «thing» intangible. So, there is no time as such, and therefore I have a lot of it. Such is the «unity and struggle of opposites».
I finish with the philosophy and begin the «repeated round of possessions». This time I «look around» more calmly and thoroughly. I have nowhere to hurry: there are no people to be seen, the guides – with horns and tails – too. It means that we will still live… well, in the sense of: we will exist… we will be… In general: we will count… somewhere and someone… Now the main thing is to determine the concepts: «where?» And «who?» And this is not a «naked» philosophy, but the harsh reality of being. It would be more correct to say: not «being, but fact of being somewhere or in something. But «being» somehow gives hope: this is not hopelessness!
So: I think – it means I exist. Philosophical abstraction is proved by practice. It is already possible to «dance» further on the topic «who?» and «where?» The fact, that I am not a spirit or a soul, can be seen at first glance… even if you can’t see anything. Me, in any case – for sure: we will deal with others later.
Ah, where am I? What kind of sterility is this, compared with which sterility of the operating room, I beg your pardon, is public toilet?! Why is everything «sterile» so much that there is nothing… not even what should be sterile?! As the saying goes: «where is everyone»?! Where did it go, but if it was not, then why? If this is the «solitary prison cell of personal hell», then I am against… although no one asks for my opinion. But, all the same: I, all my life, did not tolerate society, posthumously are with both hands for the «labor collective», because «without friends I’m a little bit, and with friends I’m a lot!»
Interestingly, is my stay here stationary, with reference to one point, something like a statue on a pedestal – or?.. I strain the thought – and it seems, to be making a move! Well, as I «commit»: I feel… at the level of consciousness, that I am starting to move. It would be nice to understand: what? A strange feeling: this «movement» does not meet the slightest resistance. Here it is – the ideal of the strength of materials, compared with which the phenomenon of superfluidity is the Neanderthal ax in comparison with the present-day combat laser!
«I go on milestones», but, alas: I do not come across. Everything is like in a poem: «I go out alone on the road – and, at least, hell was walking along it!». This is unpleasant feeling, true, it seems, the only one of its kind. I don’t feel other unpleasant sensations, such as: hunger, cold, thirst, heat. The presence of the «administration of the corrective-labor institution», as well as the red-hot frying pan under the butt is not felt either. So, this is not hell… it seems. Well, that doesn’t seem like hell, even if it doesn’t seem like anything else.
It’s strange… If this is not hell, then why are there no signs of its opposite? Where is paradise, or, at least, its «waiting room»? Where is the classic? Or, maybe, I’m going to the «wrong path of the wrong» – that is, an atheist of the «Christian bottling»? But after all, Muslims have a paradise, which looks like «the country of Limonia, where there are forty calls – and all for lunch!» Why then do not I see cool gardens and hot in love virgins? And if this is a «Buddhist-Hindu type paradise», where, at least, a sense of peace and tranquility? Rest, unfortunately, «we only dream»!
Hence the conclusion: this is not paradise. But, if this is something like a «transfer», then it was possible to equip it with at least a minimum of amenities! The same is true for the quarantine case. Or in this quarantine place applicant experiencing more and thoughts… «lice»? Well, if this is so, then that’s swinishness. Not only were people frightened on Earth: now «for your deeds…», «according to your faith…» – so also thought went to the credit as evidence!
«I go» further, but there is nothing more here, nothing and no one. «Not heard there is even rustling in the garden…» But, hush! It seems that there is something or someone. In any case, I feel a stirring of thought. And not his own: somewhere next door. I strain my ears… or what I have now – and for sure: «hello?» meet me! Not literally, of course, but the oncoming movement is obvious!.. That is, I wanted to say that… well, signs of life… being… well, or staying were found. And that’s not classic turbulence, but something like a «mental movement».
I feel: vis-à-vis is also happy to society, although it does not hurry to me «with an outstretched hand». I take the initiative.
«Who are you?»
The appeal «to you» is not due to lack of culture: it is customary to talk with the dead and «spirits». Separate misunderstandings are problems of «separately misunderstanding» people. But I just «correspond». And I «conform» to the commonly understood «language of thoughts», as if talking to a fellow tribesman – in the sense, that translation services are not required.
«And you?»
But this is impolite. In our twenty-first century, it is somehow not accepted to answer a question with a question. Maybe, comrade «arrived from afar»?
«I am from the twenty-first century. And what are you from?»
«Twenty first century after the birth of Christ?!»
I do not see, but I feel like a guy… it seems like a guy – «the jaw falls off» and «the eyes roll out». Due to the proper reaction, I nobly release him a relapse of lack of culture.
«Yes, it is. Judging by the question, you are unlikely an ancient Greek or ancient Roman. So, where are you from?»
«The fifteenth century after the birth of Christ.
Now it is my turn to «weigh the jaw» and «bulge the eyes», albeit let it be conditional and the one and the other.
«And you have been here since the fifteenth century?!»
In response, I feel something with a sorrowful sigh and a no less sorrowful nod with an absent head.
«Alone?!» I continue to «weigh the jaw», combining this event with the earthly profession of an investigator.
«No, there are some people.»
It’s easier already!
«Where is everyone? Where is the population… or, like, there, its: society?»
The guy sighs again.
«There is no society: there is only a population. And society is not only in a scientific sense, but also each other’s societies.»
«No communication?»
«Yes. Each is by itself. We can only communicate with contemporaries. But with each other we have already talked so much, that sick of one thought to speak again. Therefore, we try to stay well away from each other. And what: there is enough space.»
I «wrinkle» my missing forehead and «wonder by missing eyebrows».
«Only with contemporaries? These are the „rules of the game“ or not a unifying beginning?»
The guy respectfully «looks» at me.
«And you, sir, I suppose, here recently?»
Well, this is a completely different thing: «Sir»! I feel that I approve.
«I just arrived.»
«You are welcome. How are you settled?»
I «grin»: lo, you – and the fifteenth century!»
«Yes… here…»
And I «wrap my arms around» nothing.
«Not bad!» Counterpart «nodding» approvingly.
«That’s it!» I am not approvingly reacting. «That’s in another sense: there is nothing! Do you understand?»
The guy suddenly «smirks».
«Do I look like a brainless ram?»
It’s «heard» something native in its intonations, something from the «edges of native aspens».
«Where did you come from, buddy? Well, where are you from?»
«Florence, senor.»
«After the plague?»
«In the eye» of the interlocutor I easily read respectful amazement. I consider it possible to give «face» a small portion of indulgence.
«I read „The Decameron“ of Boccaccio – and more than once.»
Attitudes towards me immediately change: I feel it even missing skin. Now vis-à-vis breathes me one sympathy.
«Where are you from, senor?»
«Russia.»
The guy «does not turn on».
«Muscovy!» I «raise» the «historical archives». «Hyperborea. North.»
«Oh!»
«What does this „oh“ mean?»
Unlike the counterpart, I turn on immediately: something is not right.
«Oh, if you want to say that only heard, but no one have not seen… well, none of my countrymen?!»
Vis-a-vis confusedly «shakes shoulders».
«Senor probably forgot, that I am from the fifteenth century…»
«Oh, yeah!» I calm down: glory… well, okay: God, that I, too, just «did not turn on». «So, nothing is lost yet… if only because nothing has been found… And who were you in your world?»
«Alchemist, senor.»
«My respect!» I’m not lying too much. «Looking for a „philosopher’s stone“?»
«I was looking for.»
«And what is the result? What do you „found on the way“?»
The guy «smiles shyly».
«Nice to meet such an educated senor. I report: „on the way“, I „found“ nitric and sulfuric acids, and learned how to make stainless steel.»
«So all this is you?!» I do not stint on the «cry» of approval.
The alchemist once again works in the mode of «hesitate».
«Well, let’s say this: I also had a hand…»
«My respect!» I once again return to the alchemist, this time – for two qualities in bulk: for creative input and modesty. «It will fit in the household!»
«And who were you in earthly life, senor?» alchemist «translates arrows».
«I was in part of the laws.»
«Oh! And which ones? Roman law, perhaps? Habeas corpus?»
«No, I was an investigator.»
The guy «changes in the face».
«Is not of the Holy Inquisition?!»
From an excess of irony, I «twist» the absent person
«Let’s just say: from a related office. Does it scare or surprise you?»
Vis-a-vis already – is «in the face»: I returned it to its place.
«Scared at first… and then surprised.»
«Why?!»
Ignoring the complex approach of the alchemist, I only wonder at his to surprise.
«There are no such people here. And since there are no such people here, this means that you have dealt with other matters.»
Now it is my turn to be «embarrassed», which I do, having cleared my throat accordingly.
«Well… well… you are not far from the truth. Indeed, I have devoted the last time to „serving the Muse“. I wrote, in general…»
«What exactly?» the vis-a-vis unexpectedly «lights up». «I believe that not love lyrics: here it is no good?»
«No, not the lyrics.»
I begin to move from bewilderment to comprehension. The criteria of the unknown «collector of souls» are alarming, but at the same time, they are impressive.
«There was different material. I have a philosophy, ethics, esoterics, and thoughts about Good and Evil as philosophical and religious categories…»
It is embarrassing for me now: the «inquisitor» – and such frivolous things! But, to my extra surprise, this recognition evokes a completely opposite reaction in the alchemist: a benevolent one. His «face» is literally blooming with affection.
«Well, it is another matter entirely! That is, I wanted to say, that the people here are not only welcome guests, but also the only inhabitants. And though everyone had different things, they were all creative. And the theme of your work is «in color».
I «turn on» not immediately – and for this reason I am not even surprised, that the fifteenth-century slang is so close to the twentieth century.
«You want to say, that „not everyone got into our close circle“?!»
Vis «blooms extra smile.»
«That is what I wanted to say, but I could never make it as beautiful as you just did, senor!»
Just in case, I don’t specify, that I don’t have to return for this beauty to me, but to another comrade.
«Okay, we’ll come back to this. And now I’m interested in something else.»
«I am at your service, sir.»
I «come close.» Well, on Earth, it would be called so.
«Here you say: «here», «there.» Where is this «here» and where is it «there»?
The enthusiasm of the alchemist evaporates instantly. He even has to take a break to restore working conditions. But I do not urge comrade: the question is too serious for me to change the setting «Do not hurry!» And I turn out to be right: after the termination of the earthly minute, comrade is «restored.»
«Here is a question of questions, sir!.. I don’t know directly how to answer…»
«You cannot „directly“ – answer „crookedly“!» I’m not too original.
«Do not succeed, sir…»
Vis a visitor honestly droop head his head.
«Why? You cannot articulate or do not know the answer?
«I do not know the answer…»
But, as stated in the famous children’s the poem, «the nutlet of knowledge is solid, but still we are not accustomed to retreat…". And I start to «crack» my friend.
«But how do you understand this? Somehow you must understand?»
«Damn it knows!»
In a different setting and in other circumstances, such an answer would surely make me laugh. But now I’m giving up a smile. And then: from the fifteenth century from the birth of Christ, but the devil commemorate he is not afraid! True, that with him to take: an alchemist, although, perhaps, there is another reason?
«Did you meet the devil here?» I can easily guess, not so much asking, as stating.
The guy «smiles».
«No, senor.»
«And what about God?!»
«No, senor.»
«Due to this reason you are not afraid of either one or the other?»
«That’s right, senor.»
I’m already going to be stunned by another conjecture, but I change my mind: there will be time and occasion.
«That is, it is neither heaven nor hell…»
«It seems, that’s so,» the alchemist» spreads his arms». That’s because it does not look like not only on heaven or hell – no matter what. There is a complete absence in stock.»
What a pleasant people these are alchemists! How many healthy outlook on life! How much optimism even in the face of the dominance of pessimism! No, two materialists – even from different centuries – will always understand each other. In this case, the second one – me, that is – it is not at all necessary to refer on the «testimony» of the Hubble telescope.
«What could it be?»
I have already told myself in the manner of Ostap Bender: «Oh, well, put aside the fun!»
«If it is not heaven or hell, if it is „our close circle“, into which „not everyone got“… And by the way: where, in that case, did everyone else go? Well, those who are not honored?»
Vis-a-vis, without hesitation, again «works off his shoulders».
«I do not know… But I have never met any of my acquaintances from among the rich idlers here. Occasionally there were „donators“…»
«Patrons of sciences and crafts?»
«Yes.»
«Well, this is understandable: although with a purse, but comrades also took part in the progress…»
I again «go to myself behind the thought» – and it immediately «moves me» for the next request. No wonder: so much food! So, I am now – all of the questions.
«Listen, buddy, here we are somehow we see each other, but how can this be?! As we can see, if not exist, how physical objects?! You need eyes, you need a brain! What gives us the opportunity to comprehend even „nothing“, not to mention the comprehension of each other? I hope I do not „reinvent the bike“?»
«The bike?!» the alchemist honestly «opens his mouth».
«Oh, yes!» «I clap» myself conditionally over the «conditional forehead». Bike has not yet been invented – and this time, without quotes! Sorry, mate, I just wanted to get confirmation from you that you see me.»
«Oh!» alchemist «smoothed face». «Well, get it.»
«So you confirm that you see me?»
«I see something,» the «friend» confesses, «but I can’t touch it: there is nothing and no one. So, it’s not me, but you must explain to me… That is, they shouldn’t, of course… but… I wanted to say: it’s fit to explain to me what is happening here… even if nothing happens. I’m from the fifteenth century, and you are from the twenty-first.»
To begin with, I «sigh»: the companion is right in his complaints. I can put up versus this, except that his experience of being here.
«Explain»… I can’t even explain it to myself yet – not what you need. I can’t even explain how you and I explain it without an interpreter!»
«Well, this is, just «easier steamed turnips!» the alchemist grins, «keeping a distance» «Natives «from the next world» immediately become countrymen on this. All the dead are brothers!»
It is said well! Here, to you – both the alchemist: both «physicist», and «lyricist» – «in one bottle». But we must «continue the investigation». «We have already won the first half», but how many more of them, and all are the first! My thought immediately fished out of itself the next «hook».
«You say „stay“…»
The alchemist agrees nods his head.
«Come on, let’s go on milestones!»
«Let’s go together!» the alchemist «switches on» right away: our man!
«Let’s go together! So: if this is not heaven, and not hell, but we still comprehend each other and the surrounding „nothing“, even though we have died on Earth, then this is, in any case, some kind of otherworldly of being. And for the otherworldly existence there must be, at least, some otherworldly world. Do you agree with me?»
«One hundred percent!»
Alchemist once again corresponds to the twenty-first century.
«Well! Go ahead! So this is the other world, but some kind of «unfinished»: from «nothing.»
«Probably, it happens,» the alchemist turns out to be a philosopher.
«Probably, it happens, if it there is!» I am no less a philosopher. «And are found here, as I understand it in biology, not the soul, and… hell knows that: until I don’t understand. But for understanding, we have what… no… and not here… everything. That is, not only is there no „environment“, so also we do not exist… in the conventional sense, at least, in the form of the soul. The soul, after all, must have some kind of „human-like shell“ to show itself. Agree?»
«With both hands!» the alchemist does without hands.
«Good! So: since we are not souls, at least, in the form of the air shells, not to mention the material substances – and, however, we exist, which means, that we are some other form of the otherworldly being… in another form of the otherworldly being.»
The thoughts of the alchemist are amicably strained by «folds on the forehead».
«And if you simplify?»
«I can. We are not only not in heaven or hell, but also not for heaven and not for hell! We are something else…»
«What exactly?»
I do not linger with my shoulders: I shake them.
«Damn it knows!»
Immediately I leave myself and I think already «out loud».
«We are not, but we are… We cannot be touched, but we see each other… Right – as in the Bible: „We are invisible, but we are recognized“… We have nothing to say, but we speak… Stop! „We are talking“!»
I’m «returning» to the alchemist.
«We talk thoughts! That is why we „do without a translator“! This is more than „countrymen from one world“! And already from this you can „dance“ on farther!»
«Where exactly?» alchemist «made to dance».
«This means, that we exist thoughts! And everything we are capable of is a derivative of our consciousness! This is our consciousness works!»
«What is consciousness?»
With his fifteenth century, the alchemist is honest with the twenty-first. With all my strength I try to somehow conform. I start to remember the long-forgotten dictionary on ethics.
«Well, if – according to science, then consciousness is a reflection of the social being of people.»
I feel that it «does not reach» – something like Bender’s «quasi uno fantasy» in the club of chess lovers. Yes, and I myself would not have joined in his place. It should be simplified to the unscientific level, but that was clear.
«Well, to make it easier for you to understand, you are sitting here,» I exploit a movie, «that is, roughly speaking, knowledge, plus life experience, plus self-esteem.» It may even: the ability to make decisions with skill. This, of course, is unscientific, but quite «edible». How does this simplification work?»
The alchemist diligently «drives in» for some time – and then «leaves» back.
«It seems, I understood.»
«What exactly?»
«Everything, what I have gained in my life with brains and hands, is me. At least, I am the present.»
I doubt the truth, but not for long. In the end – this is not important.
«Well, that’s something like this…»
And then it dawns on me once again.
«By the way, have you thought about why I – from the twenty-first century – can communicate with you – from the fifteenth? I, of course, don’t mean the language barrier… missing. You said that every cricket know your hearth»? Something is wrong here…»
«Well, I didn’t say anything about the cricket,» the alchemist grins «not from the fifteenth century,» «But I think the point here is that you, senor…»
«Listen, enough with this „senor“!»
«Sorry: that’s habit.»
The «face» of the alchemist «stretches into a good-natured smile».
«So, here: I think, everything is explained by the fact, that you are elected.»
My opposition immediately «wrinkles on the forehead»: an unexpected explanation.
«Elected? Who did it and for what? Tell me: you surely had to meet people from other eras?»
«Well,» the alchemist begins to think, «but I find myself first on the word.»
«Did you meet many favorites here?»
The alchemist is honestly embarrassed: «smiles guiltily», eloquently «tapping himself with his fingers on the forehead».
«I did not get it… Indeed, that’s the question.»
While he «gives confessions», I leave for a while for thoughts. Soon there is one, as if suitable, at least, suitable for revision: as a draft or blank.
«My friend, but, maybe, the thing is in this thing, where are we with you?»
«Friend» honestly trying to match, but in vain. That’s no wonder: you can’t «jump above» your fifteenth century! Therefore, I easily release to him some «lambiness» of his gaze and useless «wrinkles on his forehead».
«I explain it popularly for the ignorant», as one comrade said. And it seems that the point is not in the thing, but in me! The fact that I doper to its essence! More precisely: in the fact, that I am the first to finish it up to its essence!»
«Really?»
That’s a little tactless, but fair. «I took a tug…", as well as «do not boast, going to the army…» It is necessary to comply.
«You are right: it is possible that I was, so to speak, „encouraged in advance“.»
«???»
«Sorry, buddy: all the time I forget about your fifteenth century! By the way, this is not a humiliation, but on the contrary: praise. That’s strange thing, but I feel you my contemporaries!»
