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In the shade of a tall gazebo on a well-kept lawn, a fierce battle was brewing between a small grey-striped kitten and a thin spike of weed. Teeth snapped on the opponent's neck, and clawed paws broke his backbone, but the insidious enemy attacked again and again, offensively tickling his nose. Neither rolls on the grass nor cunning throws from under the cover of the mistress's knees helped, and even the menacing howl did not frighten the enemy - the more worthy was the victory!

The other side of the stalk was also actively cheering on the striped fighter but was in no hurry to give in, playing with great pleasure with the little foundling. It was at least a dozen minutes before Daddy arrived anyway. Nika glanced involuntarily at her watch, letting the kitten cling to the stalk.

"You've won, you've won, come here," she scooped up the still-unsuccessful pet and put him on her lap.

The kitten was not a pedigree - not at all. He was just a mice catcher cat, of which there were many in all towns and villages. If Nika had wanted a cat and told her father about it, she would probably have had a Persian or a Siam with a pedigree like an average Aristo and a price of a hundred thousand at home. All the same, she was in a position to oblige - what if some guests or friends asked her to come home, and here she had a misunderstanding for a nickel a bucket? It wasn't nice. But Nika wasn't going to get anyone.

It was just that during the involuntary wait, while the lyceum guards were patiently waiting for representatives of her family to hand her over, a scrawny, shabby, terribly hungry squeaky miscreant emerged from behind the station pillar and, for some reason, chose her as a mistress. And the animal was not deterred by the frown of the security guard, who aimed his rifle at the intruder. In vain, by the way - his finger was already selecting the slack trigger acting according to instructions. There was no telling what could be under the guise of a harmless animal, from a contact poison on the fur and a virus inside the body to a compact charge - it wouldn't kill but damage. It's easier to waste a round.

Realizing what was about to happen, it was completely spontaneous. A stern, "He's mine!", indifference on the attendant's face and a trembling, angular calf under her arm. There are no fools to shoot the property of an aristocrat, even if she is a child. But the trouble from 'property' is now also personally hers.

And so the cat named Tiger appeared in the mansion, having roused about a dozen people during the first hours of his stay there - to clean, to vaccinate, to feed, to find a collar, to trim his claws, to introduce him not as food, but as a full-fledged resident to the local dogs. And then she could sit down in the shade of the gazebo, waiting patiently for her Daddy. The question that had plagued Nika all week, but could not be resolved over the phone, was waiting to be answered.

Alas, Daddy had no time to come so far away, and the Lyceum regulations forbade traveling on one's own. Even on holidays, they were reluctant to leave. Watching the bustle of the guards it was easy to see why. Every trip to the Capital was a full-fledged military operation. After the zoo, the guards were even more alert. How? Under their noses, and someone else's gifted and almost killed ... In general, the existence of the boy-who-never-was recognized. They didn't want to. They really didn't, but then someone hit the plane with a lightning bolt. Someone suspiciously similar to the descriptions of the fosterlings.

A formal apology to the night runners ensued. Nika wasn't complaining - she'd grown a little stronger for doing the difficult Vow. The boys, still glowing with black eyebrows, were not so sympathetic, but they accepted the apology nonetheless. Worse for them, the gift loves Nobility.

Nervous conversations between the lyceum management and parents passed her by, but rumor has it - the phone was not silenced for a minute. The parents of the students had great respect for the host and did not raise any complaints at all. Just expressed mild concern.

The smarter ones were concerned about the children's categorical non-interference in the investigation process. The children are alive and well. And we should preserve that state of affairs without becoming valuable witnesses. A downed plane and its search are other people's problems, and it is very desirable to be away from them. Especially when the searchers catch the saboteur by the tail because, on the other side of the tail, there may be someone much more toothy than the searchers.

The less farsighted reflected on what had already happened, worrying about the health of their dupes and trying hard to keep from saying, "What am I paying you such crazy money for?!" Because even the most scandalous knew perfectly well you can yell at Prince Dolgoruky exactly once in your life. If only there had been someone easier on the other side of the line... But someone easier would not have been trusted with their children.

But the Old Families, for some reason, trusted the most common school. This greatly surprised the young heiress.

A visit to one of her family's factories was still fresh in her mind - huge, full of the noise of machinery, soaked in the smell of metal and machine oil, the leisurely bustle of huge but very kind uncles watching her timid steps through the long, seemingly endless halls and passages with tenderness and care. When her Daddy told her that for the next three years, everyone around her would be working so that she could study. This shocked the little girl far more than some boring numbers whose value she did not yet understand at the time. Nika promised herself that she would only do well in school - not even to her Daddy, but to the shop stewards, who stood respectfully at a distance. And so far she had kept her promise. So why the sacrifices when the Old Families could get by in a regular school?

Daddy said they couldn't keep her safe in the city, and studying at home was not the same as being surrounded by her equals. Daddy, frightened of bad people wanting to harm the family, told her how good it would be for her at the Lyceum. He could have said nothing - his daughter was not going to argue. Everything seemed perfectly clear - the strong families studied separately, setting up their schools for themselves and their allies. Those who were weaker, or used to keeping to themselves, paid the Very Strong Clan to educate their children. Its job was to make the most of the training so that years of hard work of good people would not go in vain.

Until the events of the past week, she had not questioned this state of affairs - indeed, many clans had their own schools and even competed with the Lyceum in annual competitions. So what were these 'Old Families' and why were they ignoring the established order?

Nika has never considered her family to be weak. The Yeremeevs, of course, does not sound as euphonious as the Romanovs or the Orlovs, and there are not thousands of years of history behind them. But those centuries counted neatly within the family, looked quite glorious and dignified, and were filled with the achievements of the ancestors and great victories. And there lurked in the depths of the centuries a little trickery, thanks to which the family was as strong as the strongest families in the country. There was no mention of this in the family chronicle, but one evening, in front of the fireplace, slightly groggy from a good deal, her father told her how long ago a brave great-great-grandfather ... many times an ancestor in the storming of another stronghold rival stole himself a beautiful bride and managed to fall in love with him. Thus the blood of an ancient Eastern dynasty was infused into the then quite ordinary clan of royal squires. And if Nika looked in the mirror, she would surely see her distinctive facial features. The enterprising ancestor had also stolen the Power of the Blood, as he had none of his own.

And then their son brought a bride from a distant campaign, on the advice of his father taking the main value from the ruined palace of the enemies, while the other fools were clinging to useless gold and gems... At that moment, his father averted his eyes and added with embarrassment - somehow, it even became a tradition... A mere druzhinnik from Moscow was not equal to Princes and Noble Boyars. Who would have given him his daughter? So they made it out by their charm, care, and affection, capturing the hearts of foreign princesses. Because without reciprocity, everything would end up as a pile of ashes around a melted coat-of-arms badge.

Of course, things were different with Dad and Mum, the clan had gained strength, and there was no need for secret abductions. Nika sincerely believed this.

Anyway, their blood is certainly not weaker! All right, this boy may be richer. So what? At least she could burn him and the tigers. Except she couldn't burn him without the tigers. And she couldn't burn the tigers without the boy. Even the fence would have been damaged. Too much power clan had gained from the Oriental beauty and multiplied it considerably. So why is this insolent boy an Elder Family and they are not?! Why was he allowed to learn among ordinary children? Not that she really wanted to, but the very fact!

Nika could tell by the bustle of the servants, the echoes of which reached the garden in the backyard, that her father had arrived. It would take five minutes for the duty report, the washing of hands, and a refresher. Nika generously allotted another three minutes for her father to rest, and the blessed silence filled with the crunch of fresh newspapers and the scent of coffee, and then she headed into the house, cradling the foundling in her arms asleep to her chest. It was about time for a single question - his father was not yet in the mood to read and was quite complacent.

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"Dad, what is an Elder family?" she said cautiously, suddenly wincing.

There were greetings, the traditional compliments to the growing young beauty, polite questions about work and no less polite answers, the same general questions about studies and a mirrored, "All is well". Even the kitten was introduced - as it was, without waking up and graciously accepted as a new toy. There seemed to be a silence, after which the newspaper and the father should have been reunited, and the daughter should have tactfully left the office, but... the question was still raised.

Sergei Olegovich Yeremeev looked intently at his daughter, slightly rejecting the newspaper with which he had already shielded himself from the world.

"It's just that they say that the boy from the zoo - he's from an Elder family..." is completely lost on the girl.

"Who says?"

"Pasha Oginsky, his dad told him."

"Did you relay his words to anyone? Discussed?"

"No! Of course not."

"Good," the frowning father nodded his thoughts. "It's better to listen than to talk or ask questions in such conversations. It's even better not to participate at all."

"I get it. I'm sorry," Nika grimaced, getting ready to leave.

"Wait, my daughter," Yeremeev senior stopped in a warm voice, putting the newspaper aside. "You heard the plane was shot down, didn't you? Claiming that someone from an Elder family did it automatically accuses the country's strongest clans of crime. There aren't many of them, my dear, and they are very careful about what they say. Such talk, even in a half-whisper, is not our level."

"So the Elder family is better than us?" Nika determined the most important thing, getting very upset for some reason.

She was well aware that there were much more powerful families, but in this case, instead of the faceless image of a dozen people, she saw a definite boyish face. And so she wanted, childishly, to be at least as good.

Sergei Olegovich chewed his lips and looked at his heiress with a different look - as if deciding whether to say more or just to make a routine soothing remark: of course, we are not worse, but there are bigger fish in the ocean than we are...

The words were replaced, however, by the sound of a bell, which summoned an eager servant who leaned respectfully towards his lord for an order. The command was inaudible to Nika, accompanied by a smile on her father's face and a look of concerned surprise that broke through the servant's mask of polite indifference.

"Let's wait," said the head of the family, turning back to the newspaper and then saying: "You can keep a secret, can't you?"

"Of course," assured her daughter, taking a seat on the edge of one of the chairs against the wall of the office.

The wait was long, almost half an hour. After a cryptic report that everything was ready, her father offered to go into the next room, asking her to take the awake and willing kitten to play with him. Nika was slightly worried about the fate of the striped kitten, but her upbringing did not allow her to doubt her father's actions.

She looked at the familiar surroundings of the spacious living room, decorated with portraits of her ancestors, two sofas on thin legs, and a coffee table between them. She could not understand why she had been asked to enter first, and her father had pushed the servants away from the door, closing it personally behind him. But the kitten realized that, in the blink of an eye, it flew from her arms and reached the corner of the room with a lightning bolt. There was an abrupt squeak and an immediate cut-off. Almost immediately, the little feline predator emerged victorious from behind the sofa, clutching a tiny mouse in its teeth, which it immediately laid at the feet of its mistress, crouching beside her and clearly begging for affection.

"Good job," Nika stroked the kitten between the ears, a little embarrassed.

"Man is helpless when he is born," his father said with a teacher's intonation, coming out from behind him. "But the beast is able and willing to hunt. Leave the man in the forest, and he dies. Beast - survives and will continue its kin. Evolution has given them a generous gift, bestowing upon them through the blood the experience of their ancestors, their skills, and their cautiousness. We got something, too," Dad smiled ironically.

Nika looked questioningly at her dad.

"I'm not talking about color vision, the ability to walk on two legs or a thumb. I'm talking about something inherent in the aristocracy and inherited along with the Gift. The Power of the Blood is a great gift, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Nika, taking the kitten in her arms, who was about to play with the dead mouse.

"But how wonderful it would be to have the experience of the ancestors, their knowledge and skills, their tricks and ruses, eh? A cherished, unattainable dream for many. And also what makes an Elder family an Elder family," his voice hardened, losing all shade of dreaminess.

"What?" Nika rounded her eyes.

"Money, power, weapons - it's all rubbish. Generations are changing, degenerating from affluent idleness. Advances in science overthrow the old ways, making the wealthy clans destitute and depriving them of power and influence. Synthetic rubber - and now ghost towns stand extinct. Nitrogen mining from the atmosphere - and whole dynasties are thrown on the side of history. Where would they go? The rest of the world is already divided. A new industry is already under someone else's thumb. The younger generation is only capable of pulling old men into war. And war has already changed - the new weapons equate the common man with the gifted. And only the Elder families, at all times, in all eras, are always on the crest of the wave. The experience, the will, the cunning, the assertiveness, the vitality of the ancestors will keep them on top, no matter what discoveries are made, no matter how the world changes.

"Of course, not everything is inherited," Dad corrected himself. "But what is passed on to their children is enough to survive in even the wildest of forests. In turn, without the need for daily survival and with the proper education, a different kind of creature grows up, far more dangerous and powerful. They already know what a normal person has to learn all his or her life. Based on their ancestors' experience, they can do anything more easily. They are difficult to deceive, extremely cruel, vengeful, and dangerous. But they are still beasts, my dear. Beasts in elegant tuxedos and expensive cars."

"But he didn't seem bad to me..." With bewilderment, Nika voiced her thoughts aloud, remembering the generous gesture of the ice cream that had been handed out.

"Of course, they can read poetry, admire paintings, and build temples, but if you touch what is theirs..."

Nika nodded vigorously, remembering the rage in the boy's eyes at the lost ice cream, and then shivered as she applied her rich imagination to what her father had said. Indeed, tigers are far more harmless.

"So it's best not to attract their attention," Dad summed up.

"I must have already attracted it," Nika said sourly.

"Well," smiled Sergey Olegovich, "we're not toothless either. Let's go."

A short walk, another errand for the servant, this time done quickly, almost in seconds, and a short pause before the door to the nursery of the youngest and only, sister, Julia. She is still small for school and therefore spends time on the estate. Nika, alas, had no brothers yet.

"My darling, may I come in?" Daddy chirped as he glanced into the room and stepped onto the snow-white carpet that covered the entire floor space.

"Greetings, Papa. Greetings, Sister. Oh, kitten!" the little one greeted them almost discreetly.

"Hands," Nika shouted, lifting Tiger to an attainable height. It's a pity about the animal. He'll get a squeeze.

"Sweetheart, can you take a moment," Yeremeev took the tray covered with a handkerchief from the servant's hands and placed it on the carpet in front of the little one, "help Daddy with the toy, will you," he pulled the cloth aside, revealing several large and not very dark green parts. Nika was surprised to recognize the disassembled Five-Seven. But even more, amazement came from the sight of the little girl, who had never seen a gun before, putting the gun back together in one piece with no trouble at all.

"Here." Without much use in clicking the trigger and immediately losing interest in the gun, my little sister handed the gun to Daddy.

"Thank you, my darling. Play on. We won't get in the way. Nika, let's go."

"The cat!" Julia reached out demandingly.

Still dumbfounded, Nika complied with the request without question.

"His name's Tiger..." she faltered sympathetically and with a dash of guilt as she watched the beast's tail thoughtfully examine.

"Goodbye, Daddy. Goodbye, Sister," hinted the little one, pulling the Young Doctor's kit towards her.

"Tests make you stronger," Dad patted Nicky on the shoulder and gestured for him to come into the corridor.

The conversation continued in the office, on initial terms - one with a newspaper and fresh coffee, the other with a very important question. This time it was a little different.

"So we're the Elder family?" Nika said softly, still disbelieving.

"Not exactly, but very close," the patriarch of the family nodded, tasting coffee. "In your sister, it is more expressed. But your children will surely inherit some of the ancestral knowledge. Fortunately, your daddy has already chosen a suitable groom and..."

"Daddy!" Nika's cheeks flushed.

"What 'daddy'? Do you think it's easy to find a gifted one who isn't already engaged?" Father was indignant. "I've been all over Moscow to find the right one!"

"Who eats his boogers," the girl muttered to the side.

"Well, he's five years old. You can forgive him," Dad shrugged, then irritably slammed the paper down on the table. "Well, they don't want to take over the wife's side of the family! There's no place to steal from!" he paused at the end and grimaced in annoyance.

"Sorry, Dad," Nika said apologetically. It's not her place to discuss the decisions of her seniors... but it's okay to grumble.

"Understand," he stood up from his seat, approached his daughter, and embraced her, leaning in slightly, "if everything works out, I can help your children. Great-grandfather Andrey will teach them how not to let themselves be cheated, great-great-grandfather Vikenty - how to bargain for a good price, great-great-grandfather Vyacheslav will give them strength and experience to win the deadly fight..."

"...great-grandfather Fadey will teach me how to steal wives..." Nika muttered, still averting her eyes.

"This is a very useful skill!"

"Who would have doubted it..."

"The time will come, and you will be able to help your grandchildren, pass on your experience, guide them, and protect them. You asked me what an 'Elder family' is. It's the path to immortality, my dear. Immortality in posterity."

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Chapter 15

A piece of the future