- You something have done? - Yes. They search for me. Let's leave, Stas Zinovevich. potihonechku. In other party. Where
they do not search for me.
He looked at Ivan, struggling with the strongest desire to arrange cross-questioning, and immediately. On Ivan for some
reason there were mask-overalls of colour of autumn sheet. On top - a landing crimson beret. The right cheek is scratched,
and the deep cut exuded - on the back party of the left palm...
And standing he has suddenly found out in itself(himself) - slippers. Black, without backs.
Thoroughly worn out. It, appears, lay under a blanket in slippers...
The absurdity accrued. The absurdity was already piled up on absurdity. There were some variants: as all to explain and
what to do further. Any of them did not suit anywhere. Everyone was now - dangerous loss of rate. It is impossible to
understand, being in an environment. It is impossible to lay down conditions, being in check. This gone crazy general was
obviously going to go va-bank. He does not intend to understand, and to bargain to it - late... Ivan prishibut from the
automatic machine (too it bright), and me will stuff with chemistry - until consideration.
Here and all will be dismantling... It is necessary to leave from here, and already then to dictate conditions or at least to ask
questions. The trouble in that, however, as the general too understands it and as it is good.
- You know how to leave? - Yes.
- Whence? - Time in vain did not lose.
- Consider, I am not able to be invisible. From me a ninjia - any.
- And also it is not required to you. You are the sick person. Go to itself to a toilet.
- And if somebody meets? - Go to itself further, and I will persuade him.
He has deeply sighed before forthcoming effort and, holding the breath, tears from a bed. Feet - held. The ring in an ear has
stopped, only heart continued to thump and jump up, as badly adjusted cursor.
Ivan has substituted a shoulder and has dexterously clasped it for a waist. From it smelt as barracks. Another's smell. A smell
taken as a trophy...
- Ivanindzja, - he has told to it with tenderness. - we here with you thoroughly were stuck. You though understand, what
occurs? - A horse-radish I do not understand, - Ivan has told. They slowly, trying to march in step have moved to an exit. -
but I feel that it is a nasty place. You Dinara Alekseevnu saw? In crowd of this?. Have noticed? He did not begin to answer.
It has again stirred up at one only memoirs... As they cried! As they loved each other and as were afraid to lose! Also lost. All
time lost. All of them were - disposable use...
- Anything, - Ivan has told, without having waited the answer. - we from them will leave, I to you guarantee it. And then you
with them will understand...
Optimism, has thought it, diligently moving feet. The main thing and the unique weapon of the won.