- The Dream of a Sleeping Boy Who Knowingly Treads Forbidden Ground -
He lay in the field of lies. He admired the pearl petals, illuminated by the sun, which, discontentedly, reflected attention. Raising his head and making a double chin, he saw a hollow stump squatting carelessly. Out of nowhere, he noticed black clouds floating above his head. Suddenly, lightning struck the stump and fire erupted.
The smell of smoke was his most effective alarm clock. Panic-stricken and confused, he got up and sat on the bed. He had fallen asleep dressed because the previous night he collapsed on the bed from exhaustion. The flame reached the ceiling, spreading across half of the apartment. He quickly put on leather boots and placed a hat on his morning-tousled hair. He spotted a broken window and shards of dark glass from a Molotov cocktail bottle on the floor. Fortunately, the apartment had another window, with fire escape stairs. Without hesitation, he hurried to it, taking only a black briefcase and leaning it against the bedside table next to the bed.
..//..
The end of the thread emerges through the frontal bone, releasing pearls of thought to wander aimlessly. Occasionally, a thread gets stuck between the touch of two gears, which at that moment is explained by the stall of the consciousness mechanism.
A man stood for a long time, his boot leaning on a small wooden fence, his left elbow dug into his bent knee, holding his chin in thought, while his right hand remained steadily on his waist. Time passes, and the clock strikes noon. At that moment, like the play of sticks on the floor of a tense leather drum membrane, it begins to reverberate in the limited bony cell, into which we lock ourselves in moments of solitude and deep contemplation.
Every day, fatigue puts handcuffs on our wrists, pushes us into the corner of the cell, and after a little while, either we sink into darkness, to the bottom, where devils tickle us with glowing rods, or we unconsciously start to levitate and, floating, exit through the glass window on the ceiling leading us to the realm above the rainbow, clouds, and sun.
His name was Samuel Ricky Jackson. At first, he indifferently observed the details of his surroundings. In front of his eyes, a wave of hot air shimmered. Sun rays bounced off glossy sand particles constantly irritating his pupils. Occasionally, a cactus stem evaporated in the monotonous yellow landscape.
He was in the Wantru desert, at a stop on the only road passing through this place. He had come here in his gray 1956 Cadillac Series 62. Behind him, just a few steps away, on his left side, stood a wooden structure of light construction, resembling a shed. Inside, a crying girl hugged her knees and sat huddled in the tight corner of this small, dusty room. Next to her lay a dead man with a blossoming, bloody temple beneath which a hardened stream of blood had flowed.
As the little remaining blood moistened the dusty ground inside the shed, Sam slowly began to realize what he had done. He started to question the whole situation. He walked toward the shed, took the girl by the hand, and forcibly pushed her into the car. The corpse was covered with blue plastic. Then he sprayed that plastic with white paint, using an old squirrel hair brush he found on the wooden shelf.
He started the car engine and after a few seconds, on the only road through the Wantru desert, there was only a cloud of dust. That was the only trace the peculiar killer left in that scorching desert. After about 50 km, at the Saint Olymp gas station, he stepped on the worn brake of his car, opened the door, and left the girl.
The bewildered girl got out, and a short man in a green tuxedo approached the car, threw a blue sports bag onto the back seat, and exclaimed,
“Das Ende ist alles bestimmt!” (The end is predestined for all!)
Smiling, Samuel continued driving, searching for the right song on the radio, and when he finally found it, it was “Hola” by Hermanos Rosa, he lit a thick brown cigar, tried to reach for the long-awaited gift of the little green gremlin, and started to unzip the bag. The zipper slid along its metal rail, the die was cast, and the bag was open — Jackson's widened eyes weren't frozenly focused on the dark cavity of the bag for long.
Faint, shallow greenery lingered in the eye's iris long enough to warm Sam's heart, but only for a moment because the dazzling whiteness overwhelmed the green bundles, and in 4 seconds, it was all over.
..//..
Clearly defined roles in the business process of the company "GT" (Green Trinity) were determined by its director, Sorran Maygic. The bald leader sat behind his lacquered, wooden table made of white pine all day, perusing business magazines and keeping track of his company's daily accounts.
He spent breaks admiring the pistol in the drawer of his desk, sipping white tea from a blue cup that he often placed on a Chinese porcelain saucer. This one cup used to be accompanied by five sisters, a stepmother teapot, and a cousin — a funnel-shaped milk jug. The whole set was a charming gift from Sorran's mother, which he selfishly preserved, adorned with a layer of dust in a glass cupboard, except for the blue cup he used daily.
The director utilized every morning hour to the maximum, while during the afternoon sessions, he was enchanted by tired boredom, staring out of the window. The unique sight of natural phenomena and colors didn't give peace to his soul. Although it may have seemed strange, such relaxation represented excellent meditation for the bald man; with this technique, he sharpened his nerves for the past 20 years and despite "a few" strands of hair, he hadn't lost anything particular.
..//..
The company ostensibly dealt with the production of methyl alcohol to obtain highly energy-efficient fuel for jet engines. This was just a cover; they had found a formula that enabled the creation of a compound with high energy potential and self-regeneration. The main ingredients were methanol and sulfur, where methanol served as the energy source, while sulfur created a special concrete chamber around the core to prevent melting and detonation due to immense temperature.
They named this compound "yellow Rock-filler granite" because of its color and the degree of danger. It took 8 years to form, and only one could be produced during that time, requiring immense dedication and precision in chemical processes. Initially, they created "red Rock-filler granite" with an additional mixture of phosphorus and liquid clay, but the drawback of this granite was that it was extinguished after approximately 46 hours, ending in an atomic explosion.
The company tried to prevent information about these achievements from reaching the public, but a mistake by one worker led to the leakage of news in the newspapers the next day. Due to sleepiness and monotony at work, the worker mistakenly delivered 32S instead of 34S, resulting in an explosion due to the wrong isomer. The noise was reported to the police by a nearby shepherd out of fear, causing commotion. Although the company took measures to conceal the "Ground Power" operation, Sam's eye caught a snippet of the 5th page of the Vitro business magazine.
At first, he was surprised to see the name of the company where his brother had been working for almost three years in the newspaper, especially with such a headline – "New Chernobyl?". He began to suspect and wonder what kind of operations were happening at his brother's company. His suspicion was reinforced by the disappearance of the magazine issue containing the sensational headline.
Additionally, he expected new reports related to the mysterious accident, but there were no inspections or other stories. He developed a theory that this unfortunate "accident" must have been violently covered up, which turned out to be true. All of this fueled his tireless spirit. Full of inspiration, he eagerly began to gather information.
..//..
Sam created various images in his mind, trying to find out more about the whole situation, and he decided on the most reliable way. He told his brother that he wanted to work at the company, as an assistant, cleaner, or similar position.
"I want to be more responsible, take matters into my own hands, and make something of my life," he said.
Initially, Rodrick found it strange, but he had always believed in his older brother and was immensely glad that he was trying to change. He vouched for his brother and recommended him to the boss, and Sam was soon hired as a hallway cleaner.
Everything went according to plan; now he was in direct contact with the source of targeted information. He spent months working, the job wasn't difficult for him, and the daily joy of playing detective made it even easier. Sam was a gifted manipulator, extracting information from employees so effortlessly that it seemed like cheating in this deadly game of dangerous destinies.
Furthermore, he learned things he hadn't even hoped for, such as his brother seeing a girl and being very distressed lately. His Rod? With a girl? The young man who had been dedicated to a higher goal his whole life to succumb to a girl's charm?
Several times during work, minor earthquakes occurred, to which he received responses from other workers – that an experiment with a new type of fuel was underway. Of course, he didn't believe them; moreover, with each such tremor, a strange smell of rotten eggs soon filled the hallways. He also saw a light yellow dust that sometimes emerged from the ventilation vents and immediately returned due to the strong suction power of the building's ventilation system.
To confirm his suspicions, he knew it would be best to ask his master of strange reactions in the chemical world, Rod. It turned out that in most cases, the unpleasant but poisonous smell came from hydrogen sulfide, which made him understand the mystery of the yellow dust – it came from sulfur compounds.
One afternoon, he heard a louder conversation behind the office door of the man responsible for the floor above. Many sentences in the conversation were unintelligible to him, but he clearly understood three words - pistol, bald, and secret. He immediately discerned that baldness must be connected to the company's leader, Sorran. It wasn't at all surprising to him that the whole project happening in the building was mysterious. But a pistol? It was reasonable only to a certain extent. Sam struggled with the issue of the pistol for a long time, until one day.
That morning, he knew the boss was visiting a competing company, supposedly to present his idea of the possibility of flying at higher altitudes using an antigravity network that would connect to the aircraft's belly. He knew the schedules of the other cleaners well and volunteered to be in charge of the top floor, closest to the bear's den. Entering the most important office in the building was not difficult at all. The room next to it was intended for presentations on the screen, like a small cinema, and, for no apparent reason, it seemed, it had a ventilation vent connected to the targeted room.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
It looked extraordinary. A white pine table stood on a deer skin spilled to the wall on the north side. To the west were huge windows with grayish marble frames on which thorny roses were carved. Even the trash can was kitschy, with a crown rim. One would think that the rest of the room would be occupied by a TV set, but at the other end of the room, opposite the table, there were 3 closets, reaching to the ceiling. Two were full of books, and the central one was almost empty with only one frame containing a picture of an older smiling woman with a dog in her arms. A long nose and square glasses remained in memory.
He assumed that the drawers of the desk would be the right place to keep various valuables, including that pistol. They were all unlocked, but the pistol was not found in any of them. The second time was luckier for him; he found it in the central closet, in a vertical drawer under the crystal frame. It was in a black metal locked briefcase, and the key was nowhere else but attached to the back of the frame. Yes, it was Sorran's mother whom he loved immensely.
But the pistol was like any other, nothing unique about it. Silver-colored, with a full magazine. He didn't allow himself to linger further, so he carefully returned to the cinema room and took the premier prize with him.
..//..
He slipped through the window and descended the stairs. He sat on his Honda SuperCub motorcycle and sped off to the library. He knew his brother met his girlfriend there every Tuesday.
An interesting time for an introduction, he thought.
After 14 minutes, he found himself in front of the library stairs. Two tall pencil-shaped columns supported the ceiling in front of the entrance. The chalk-white doors made of old maple carried iron chains and an interesting eagle-headed latch.
They sat facing each other in the eastern wing of the library. As he approached, Rod was sipping white coffee while the unknown girl read the passage "At the time," from an old Rome history book. When she saw that he was standing stiffly behind his brother, she stopped reading, and Rod turned around confused and almost choked.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Business, Rick, business," Sam said.
At that moment, both of them found the situation unbelievable.
"Interesting turn of events, don't you think, brother?" Rod said, to which Sam nodded with a smile.
He introduced his brother to Teri, his "friend," although both knew that his inevitable blushing gave him away. Samuel explained the situation to his brother – that he had quit his job and came across some interesting information. While listening, Rodrick wasn't surprised at all, and he had been waiting to find out what the real reason for employment at the company was. Although surprise wasn't expressed, he was proud of his brother. He had always been his support, and that wouldn't change.
The chemistry between the "readers" was real. The doves had already tasted the holly, but that soup was for another week. Terrinola suggested a plan that both of them immediately liked.
..//..
Unlike his brother, Sam didn't adore school. Thoughts were briefly attached to his brain and would soon wander out like helium balloons through ear canals. The moment they touched the hairs in his ear and eagerly rushed out, they would be put into action.
He wanted to be famous worldwide. To be renowned for his successes. Thinking about all the adventures awaiting him made him happier. It was as if just thinking spurred him to do something with his life.
Refreshed with positive energy, after a short visit to his spiritual world, he decided to put his plan into action.
Like everyone else in this capitalist world, he needed money. He wanted to build his "test ranch," where he would test different weapons with different ammunition. In a broader plan, he had a psycho-social test where he would prove to people that force against their kind leads to destruction and destruction only.
To conduct the experiment, he had to gain enormous power over the people and their trust. He knew that people saw those they trusted as leaders and that they had the greatest influence on society. He also knew that people remember great heroes or unheard-of fools who tragically become victims.
..//..
They believed in him, he knew what he was doing. He did his job well. He gained respect over his years of work. He loved his job, but more than anything, he loved his daughter. She was the reason for so much effort, his greatest inspiration, but also his greatest weakness.
Throughout his life, he tried to weave all the knowledge and experience he believed would be useful in life into her. He cherished and nurtured her like a pearl oyster nurtures its pearl.
She told him about her suspicions. She consulted with him. She presented him with a plan. She wanted to help her father, to save him from shame. To point out possible wrongdoings he unknowingly carried out during his work, thinking he was helping the community.
..//..
She loved socializing and communication. Small things with great meaning. Bilateral written letters with the scent of chestnuts. She enjoyed a cup of white coffee while reading the daily news on her laptop. Going to work was a relief to her daily routine of obligations. Born in Tuscany, under the hot tile of the hospital, she announced herself with the first cry of the morning. Beating the rooster-shaped clocks, her time of birth was 5 seconds before 9.
She worked as a translator of Spanish beauty forums into Italian. Her workplace was wherever she wanted it to be, but she often went to the Sayonara Library located at the corner of Ritrun’s and Prosin’s Street. Time spent there passed much faster than anywhere else; she called it the "quick goodbye phenomenon."
Solitude didn't bother her at all; she enjoyed it. She could indulge in her thoughts and focus on her work, and her days were short. Everyone in the neighborhood knew about this cheerful girl with flowing dresses. Even a perfume with a spring scent was named after her, "Terrinola."
..//..
The mark on the gun was W041251R. They found out online that this mark didn't actually refer to a gun but to an item in the global resource database. There was a bank where users deposited their items in safes for safekeeping. In the briefcase, under the sponge, they found a blue key of an unusual shape, resembling a guitar pick. They assumed that the key matched the lock of the safe where the secret "Ground Power" operation was hidden.
They opened the cassette. Inside the rusty box where face cream used to be were a pair of earrings. Silver hooks held a lump of yellow gemstone wrapped in a greenish metal mesh. They still didn't understand anything. Kon lifted the box to inspect the earrings better. Seeing the small cores in both lumps and tiny red particles in chaotic motion, he realized the true potential of this unique jewelry.
"The absorptive capabilities of this compound are unimaginable! So much energy in such a small space, and even more could be!'' he admired.
He understood the reason for his six-month study of phosphorus pearls in high-temperature conditions. He understood the significance of his discovery of "endurium," a new element that possesses the ability to self-renew energy. He didn't want to interfere further and "contribute" to the company's development. He decided to quit his job and leave this problem in Sam's hands.
..//..
The small metal wheel was spinning in the cage. It was powered by a small, furry guinea pig that kept expending energy tirelessly. First, it would run continuously on the wheel as if preparing for a mini marathon, which was held every other year in Mice’s town, and then, as a reward for its efforts, it would quickly go to its bowl of grains, pick a sunflower seed and, grabbing it with its tiny hands, greedily nibble on it.
This tiny marathon runner was the pet of Dr. Brett Kon, a physicist who worked at the Green Trinity company. Brett spent most of his time in his underground laboratory working on various projects. Some of them involved the biomagnetic balance between living organisms, sometimes he was responsible for stabilizing chemical reactions aided by different forces, while other times, with cocoa biscuits and coffee, he simply studied the voltage relativity between different materials.
Kon loved his job, he loved being financially secure, and he was satisfied with the role assigned to him by the company. The unknown in nature had always piqued his interest and sparked his curiosity. Like any other physicist, he had an assistant. Our assistant was Rodrick Jackson. It's an interesting twist of fate that secured Rod's job.
Namely, Rodrick was a graduate chemist. Shortly after graduation, he set out in search of a job. One morning, as he was heading to a nearby café where he had planned to enjoy a pleasant morning with warm coffee in his hands and newspapers on the bar table, he noticed a scruffy man sitting on the garden bench, constantly sketching something in his large pad. Rod was naturally very curious, so he was now keen to find out what this stranger was fervently illustrating. For a moment, he forgot about his perfect morning and approached the man.
The seated man was carefully observing a white rat, gnawing on a moldy twig, and a black magpie, which was cleverly observing the long-tailed youngster, and then vigorously sketching the imagined impulses coming from the directions of these two animals and intersecting somewhere in the middle. The thinker noticed that the magpie was watching the rat very indifferently as if his twig entertainment was amusing to her.
Rodrick felt like he had broken some barrier, approaching the man and asking him to explain his actions, as the old man at that moment seemed to snap out of a trance or coma. Jackson initially thought he had provoked the wrath of the peaceful observer; however, unable to remember all the details of the distant past, it seemed to him that the conversation flowed naturally, like a jet of cold, mountain water from a spring.
After a brief introduction and exchange of interesting anecdotes and life experiences, Rod managed to coax arched lips out of the gray physicist. Seeing mutual benefit – in terms of assistance with various experiments of a chemical nature, the physicist offered Rod a job, and there he was, after twelve incredible years, in this same white laboratory.
..//..
Now, another problem presented itself before Sam: how to leverage this situation to his advantage, to obtain money, and to bring the granite to the scientific sector, where he knew it would certainly help the whole world, not just one individual. He knew he would have to blackmail the leader and get the money, and while he was thinking about it, a fantastic idea popped into his mind that would work multifunctionally.
He got to work and organized the whole scene, envisioning the outcome of each situation and training the actors who were yet to perform. He wanted the news of his deed to spread faster than dandelion seeds in a field full of them. Except the news wouldn't be good.
He "kidnapped" Teri. Brett knew absolutely nothing about their plan. Rod told Kon that his brother abducted her out of anger because he hadn't told him about the "other secret operations" of the company, and that was true, Rodrick truly didn't know about any operations.
The physicist agreed that, although he no longer did business with them, he didn't believe that any additional secret actions were taking place in that company. He was very angry and went to seek help from his former boss, deciding to tell him everything.
Sam and the bald one agreed on the exchange. One dressed in a green linen suit with a white, red-polka-dotted bowtie and small pointed crocodile skin shoes. The other was in leather boots with bulldog embossing and a black hat from which a metal tassel in the shape of a chain hangs. The checkered red shirt screamed of misfortune. They both knew what to expect, and they both knew how the encounter would end.
..//..
The next morning, the city buzzed with the same news:
DOTTED KILLER KIDNAPPED GIRL
YOUNG MAN FOUND DEAD IN SHED WITH GIRL
A BURNED CAR FOUND NEAR THE CRIME SCENE
UNCLEAR CRIME LEAVES CITIZENS OF PRUTON IN SHOCK
The entire incident gradually became old news until it was completely forgotten after one dance of the moon around the Earth.
It was found that a fresh corpse was stolen from the morgue a few hours before the "murder", but this information never saw the light of day. The corrupt police removed the car after the accident to destroy all evidence. The gremlin couldn't allow even the slightest chance of the existence of the incredible granite being discovered.
The day after the "incredible circumstances", he passed away in his chair, slumped against the white pine. The cause of death was determined to be the corrosive effects of the caustic soda he swallowed dissolved in his white tea. The police found a ventilation cover in the corner of the room leaning against the wall.
After a detailed, months-long search, Teri walked into the building of the environmental company "Green Land" together with Rod. That day she wore exceptionally sparkling earrings. After leaving, they headed to the street, where a red 1956 Cadillac Series 66 awaited them with a song echoing down the main street. It was the randomly chosen "Hola" by Hermanos Rosa.
The smiling couple settled into comfortable leather seats. The tires gently skidded on the asphalt, and the driver spoke up:
"Did I ever tell you how I saved money for this beauty?"
They wanted to respond, but he continued:
"I heard something ticking in the back seat in a nice sports bag. The car at the time needed vacuuming, so I pulled out two magical beans to help me remove the dirt. I vacuumed all the sound with a vacuum, only a faint squeak could be heard, and a little dust came out of the bag. Magical, you wouldn't believe it, right hehe?"
"Explosively good!" they replied, well-rehearsed, as they drove to their new cottage.
[https://i.imgur.com/VGxp6Gn.jpeg[]