* * *

Slavka did not disappoint me. He stopped at a leisurely and steady pace so that his back was to everyone else, but he was facing halfway to our chosen target. He took a cigarette out his hand in a magician's gesture, caught the paper roll in his lips mimicking driver, and looked up at the sky.

"Where did you get it?" A second later, there was a curious murmur behind his back.

Gotcha! I noticed that I was rubbing my palms together and chuckled softly. Then I realized that this was unworthy of an Emperor, and, to occupy my hands, I picked up Mashk and petted him. But I could not beat the insidious smile.

Slavka pointed his chin at the driver, puffed on the nonexistent smoke, and held out a single word: "There."

And he wasn't lying! Because I was in the same direction - on the other side of the bus, right in front of the open window.

"But you won't get it," said Slavka, looking at Edik from head to toe. "You're so childish."

"No way!" The boy was indignant in response, turned sharply on the spot, and strode resolutely towards the driver.

It's time! I dropped Mashk to the ground, put my hands in the pocket of my shorts (I had changed and now looked like everyone else), and walked slowly towards the yellow bus.

"Uncle, give me a cigarette!" was uttered on the other side of the car.

"What?!" roared a man's bass.

"What?!" added the grumpy voice of the class teacher of class B.

"Cigarette..." someone said confusedly in reply.

"I'll give you a slap!" And then a loud: "Ow!"

"To the headmistress, now!" The heels clattered on the paving stones, leading to a long and deathly resentment: "Why is Slava allowed to!" - deep into the boarding school.

I climbed out the window at the first "what" and a moment later was already sitting in the gap between the seats in the furthest row. Outside the window, Mashk was meowing pitifully, also wanting to go to the city and the zoo. But, alas, he was not good at climbing out of the windows, and he was thrown from the entrance by the driver's wicked boot.

The minutes of long waiting dragged on. Gradually the noise outside the window dwindled, and a summoning shout resounded: "Dinner!", taking everyone from the yard to the cutlets and porridge. My stomach growled sadly, but I pulled myself together - ice cream demands sacrifice.

I was already bored when, from the courtyard, I heard the clattering of boots and the voices of excitement and anticipation again. I pressed myself even harder into the wall and under the bus seat and watched the identical boots strutting between the rows of seats. There were forty-six seats on the bus, so if everyone was seated closer to the exit, in pairs, there was every chance of going unnoticed.

"Maria Petrovna, may I move to the window?" A vaguely familiar voice sounded in the commotion.

"Sit as you like," came a kindly female voice.

It's a failure, I thought. But instantly replaced by a stubborn determination to go all the way. I might have been lucky. The place was inconvenient, far away from everyone else, the window was smaller, and there were plenty of other options... But why was this kid coming here? I almost growled in annoyance.

There was a gasp from upstairs. Someone was moving from the last seat closer to the window. And the guy was a total stranger! I should have arranged it with Slavka, a belated thought flashed through my mind.

"Shh!" I sprang from under the chair and clamped the guy's mouth shut, ducking carefully so that the backs of the other chairs would hide what was going on from the others.

The older boy jerked sharply, almost breaking free of his grip - he was heavy, the bastard! I couldn't hold him. I fidgeted in my pocket, pulled out the hidden Weapon, and held it up to his eye.

"Do you know what this is?"

My unwilling neighbor's eyes filled with the horror of recognition.

"It's green," I said in a bored voice, twisted off the ribbed cap with one hand, and put the bottle against his knee.

So, MC gets from the Aid Kit not a scalpel but this

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brilliant_green_(dye)

In a child's eyes, a stinging liquid that cannot be washed away is far scarier than some pathetic scalpel.

"If you twitch or squeak, you'll spend the whole summer with a green foot. If you understand, nod."

The boy nodded very cautiously.

"Now you sit on the edge and sit there quietly."

His eyes filled with sadness and a wistful glance at the nearby window.

"You can change seats when we go," I relented. "If you turn me in, you'll wake up tomorrow with a green face. You got it?"

Another quick nod in response.

It seemed to work out - I let him go and busily started screwing the cork onto the bottle.

"Are you running away?" the boy asked in a whisper.

"No, I have business in town," I said without looking, taking my seat on the floor again.

From above, there was another stirring - a neighbor silently settling back to the pathway.

"All right!" A woman's voice cut through all the sounds. "Everybody looks at me! One, two, three... nineteen! Everyone's here. Fyodor Georgiyevich, we can go."

"Hooray!" Everyone shouted in unison, and even I joined in the shout by sitting on the floor.

The yellow beast roared its engine and rolled slowly down the road.

After waiting a few minutes, I cautiously looked out into the aisle - the teacher was seated in a chair beside the driver, chatting to him, while the boys leaned their noses against the windows, looking out at the world outside the boarding school. Great!

"Take a seat," I commanded my neighbor as I took a seat.

He immediately jumped into the next row, to a vacant window, and stuck to it just like everyone else. In a second, though, I was pressing my forehead against the cool surface, staring at the disorderly rows of houses and buildings that flashed past. After a while, the black and gray buildings were behind me, and then a U-turn followed. The road became wider and filled with cars - they were much smaller than ours, but there were plenty of them. Though occasionally a real metal monster came our way, and we passed two of them on our own. Soon there were huge letters "Upper Novgorod" stacked in two rows above each other on the right-hand side and the inscription "Welcome!" below them.

"Hi!" I whispered softly and waved my hand at the message.

There it was, the city. I felt anxious and worried, like a cat standing at an open door. Did I really need to be here? I touched the hidden five-ruble paper and cast aside all doubts - I had to.

Outside the window, houses grew taller and taller, the glimpse of cars grew denser, and the outlandish smell of hot asphalt wafting through the vents - not particularly pleasant, but new and stirring to the imagination. Soon we were driving slowly among the stone towers, stopping now and then to let others pass.

"Kids, don't make faces at the windows!" the teacher said.

Too late - there was a bus just like ours, only snow-white. And we weren't the first ones to start the war - it was those sleek, clean-cut ones in matching purple shirts with a gold coat of arms at the heart! These poor bastards had all their windows shut, so we had to explain in gestures.

"Sit up straight, look at me!"

I slowly pointed my fingers to my eyes once more, then to the guy in the window opposite, ran my finger down my throat, and quietly slid down, frozen almost to the floor.

"We're on our way," said the teacher. "When we get out, get into pairs and follow me, keep up!"

I looked up at the window - a second time would be more difficult. I glanced up at the window - it would be much harder to do it a second time, there are people around... I glanced at the sign near the window and immediately went back to the text - Emergency exit - pull the cord in case of an accident, squeeze out the window. Hm! We need a crash!

"Hey, buddy," my old neighbor called out to me, crouching down, "I'll help."

He looked confident and stared without looking away.

"What's in return?" I asked cautiously.

"Here," he fidgetily pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. "Here's the number. It's the hospital. You call and ask about Elena Vasilievna Georgieva's health. That's my grandmother. You'll tell me later. I'll call too if I can."

That's when I realized why I didn't know the boy. He had been with us for a month or two and was not yet part of the senior class associations, trying to keep to himself. I saw him on the pay phone, that's where I heard his voice. We were allowed to call from the boarding school, but only once a week, on weekends. I think he really has something with his grandmother and that's why he went to a boarding school. Before that, they lived together.

"Deal," I nodded in agreement, taking the paper.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Let's go out! Line up as soon as you get out!" The class teacher reminded us of herself.

The bus slowly pulled out to the edge of the concreted area and, snorting came to a halt.

Outside the window, hundreds of people were bustling about, shouting, laughing, singing, and even dancing. A river of people poured in under a round metal arch with "Zoo" written on it, lingering briefly under it and handing something to two men. Beyond the arch was a huge park, with bright scarlet domes of tents rising above it, a giant wheel moving slowly to the sky. Somewhere up there was a railway track, now down, now up to the heavens, winding up and down, with the occasional glimpse of small cars with people on them. There were little cars chained by thick strings, spinning and flying upwards, and also with people laughing and happy. And all this we saw without even stepping off the bus, slowly making our way between the rows of seats in total silence, broken only by exclamations of "Wow!". If we had been told that this was it and we were going back I wouldn't have been surprised. But for sure, I would have been disappointed.

Already on the way out, Tolik, as my new friend's name was called, abruptly yanked my T-shirt, throwing it over my head, and ran forward. I was indignant and started to catch up with him, dashing past the vigilant teacher in disguise. We made a circle around the bus, only I remained on the other side of it, and Tolik ran into the crowd of children, where he was reprimanded, apologized successfully, and got back into the general line. The boys have counted again - nineteen - and the formation moved towards the archway.

I looked around, displeased at the familiar white bus - it was empty, which meant we had been overtaken by those purple dudes.

"Boy, are you lost?" A man in the same uniform as the men outside the zoo called out. "Here come your people."

"Is there ice cream there?" I glanced in the direction of the entrance, which our boys had just passed through.

"Of course!"

"Then I ran," and indeed I sped up.

However, I was intercepted at the entrance and asked for a sort of ticket. I stared at the man staring at me patiently, then glanced in the direction of the park and noticed the edge of our column, which had already disappeared around the corner.

"I'm with them!" I pointed my finger to be sure.

"Sergei, that's right, there were twenty tickets, and nineteen have passed," his partner called out.

"Have a good day." The guard squeezed out a smile and lost interest in me.

"Where's the ice cream here?"

"Go ahead. There are sellers at every corner. Don't hold up the queue!"

Truly a wonderful place with ice cream at every corner! It would seem that I should run, but I took my time, savoring the feeling of being close to victory, and looked around with interest, occasionally approaching the crowd of people standing near the bars, who were looking at the sad animals hiding from the heat in the shade of the canopy. Finally, I found a small group of five people. Next to them, a man with the strange name of Guide walked and told me interesting stories about the owner of each cage, near which we stopped. It turned out to be very interesting!

"It's been such a mess all last week," the guide complained to the others. "A man came from Moscow to organize the visit of an important person. He rented the whole zoo! And then he comes to us to see everything with his own eyes. But all we have are zebras, a camel, and a tiger, and the old one at that. What happened then?"

"What?"

"The beasts have arrived! By special flights from all over the world! What to do with them? Each one needs its own place and special care... They brought in builders, dug up and built everything here, solid labyrinths - there's not enough space. In five days! All for one single visit, can you imagine? But now, in Upper Novgorod, you have the biggest collection of bizarre beasts in the north of Empire, and there are already queues to visit it! Here, look to the right."

The group, and I, looked at the three-meter-wide cube, behind which dim blue lights swirled, floating around the space in different directions as if in water.

"This is Dolphin's Souls. A striking exhibit." A man came to the very edge. "They appear randomly in different parts of the world, at the sites of anomalies and technological disasters, and disappear just as quickly. Very difficult to catch and imprison in a special vessel." The guide pointed at the whorls carved at the foot of the cube. "But inside the cube, they don't disappear anymore and keep their numbers up. Some believe they are intelligent or not from our world at all, but there is no confirmation."

The fat man in our group stepped closer and tapped his finger on the glass. The lights completely ignored the greeting and continued their leisurely movement.

"What can they do?" He asked, bored. "Beautiful, of course... But is that all?"

"There's something," the Guide winked, looking conspiratorial, taking out a tiny light bulb and touching the narrow end to the surface, where the dim blue light was closest. The blue dweller immediately slid towards the lamp and... as if it had been sucked into it! And the lamp blinked dimly and went out.

"Funny," snorted the man.

And for some reason, I felt very, very sad. The light was gone for good, just to make the man feel "funny". I didn't want to go with them, so I stood next to the cube until they disappeared around the corner. And he walked over to the transparent face and apologized, putting his palm on the cool surface. The lights continued to move slowly through the void, indifferent to my words and the loss of friend.

Already walking away from the cube, I wondered - if one light lights a lamp... and I can light a lamp (or rather, burn it - I tried it)... I returned to the cube, touched the glass with my little finger, and expressed my "just a little bit curious" by force.

The whole bunch of lights rushed abruptly towards my finger, shrinking into a huge ball, flaring up to sunbursts in my eyes! And it kept growing! I pulled my hand away abruptly and looked around - no one seemed to notice, only the black-haired man at the corn machine was looking strange. And the lights were scattered over the cube again, only brighter and a little bigger now. Anyway, I took a quicker step and didn't turn around, thinking "that's not me" and smiling cheerfully.

And around the next corner, the fake smile turned into a real smile - because that's where the huge snow-white stall with the dark blue "Ice Cream" sign was!

"What's that with?" I poked at the brightly colored packaging.

"Chocolate-covered with nuts, fifty roubles."

"And this?"

"Plombière fifty cents."

"Hm..."

"Boy, are you going to buy?"

"Of course it is. What's that with?"

"Fruit ice, available with orange and mango, seventy cents."

"And you say chocolate-covered, and with nuts, that's very tasty?" I ran my finger over the transparent lid.

"Hey, kid, don't hold the line!" an irritated sound came from the back.

I turned around and counted a dozen disgruntled faces that had managed to gather behind me. And they were all wearing those nasty purple shirts. Yep.

"So, what's the deal with the chocolate coating?" I turned back around.

"Have you got any money, kid?" the woman frowned.

"Of course," I shrugged my shoulder lazily, "and fruit ice is what?"

There was an annoyed murmur behind me, someone was pushed, and a second later, a person with long hair, a little shorter than me, tried to squeeze between me and the box of the world's riches, poking the saleswoman with a piece of paper with the number ten on it. Not only was ten more than five, but it was that nasty purple color again!

"No one can stand between the Emperor and his ice cream," I roared into the enemy's ear, turning him sharply to face me. And in a second, I was contemplating the utterly astonished look in the green eyes, the pretty face, and the neat nose. A girl!

"I'm going to bite your nose off," I said and gritted my teeth predatorily.

"I will fight back!" she gave out slightly uncertainly.

"In the name of Holy Om, what do you know about resistance, woman!"

"Boy, either you buy, or I close," said the saleswoman.

"Ten Plombière! And the bag!" I barked sideways as I continued to stare at my opponent.

"Hey, kid, aren't you taking on too much?" came from the queue.

"Says who?" A voice came from some unknown place inside me. "You? Or you?!" I stepped straight into the queue, causing everyone to back away.

"Do you know who my father is...?" The boy with the neatly coiffed hair muttered uncertainly.

"Do you know who's mine?!"

"No."

"Too bad..." I hissed slowly in his face.

I caught movement on the side and noticed a guy pointing a small box with a peephole at me. A weapon, I guess.

"Give it to me!" I sharply snatched the golden rectangle from his hands.

"Give it back. My father will kill me!" The owner whimpered immediately.

"What is that?" I stared at the bright picture showing the asphalt and my feet.

"It's Dad's Vertu, you idiot!"

"I thought you said it was your phone," came a snide comment from the crowd.

"Give it back!" the owner of the vertuidiot jumped up and down beside me.

"A phone?" I wondered, finding no dial and no buttons. "Can I use it to make a call?"

"You can, you can. Just give it back."

"Hmm," I poked the flat buttons and brought up the familiar menu of numbers. Yep, they're clickable! Now, where's the number sheet...

"Give it back!" The boy was a sissy, even though he was one head taller than I was.

"I'll call and give it back," I snorted irritably, taking the bag of ice cream and strolling through the park. The owner of the gimmick stomped away dolefully. I glanced back - the enemy was still standing near the ice cream stall, fists clenched, then unclenched. Pfft! One word: girl.

"Hello, is this the hospital? I'm interested in the health of Elena Vasilievna Georgieva... So, who knows? The doctor? His name and phone number? Oh, you don't know. Then give me the phone number of someone who does!" I caught myself continuing to yell, pacing with my back unnaturally straightened. "None of your business, phone!" I barked back when they tried to sneak away. "Yeah, not saying goodbye."

"And I'll tell everything, and you'll get beaten up," my neighbor muttered to himself, frankly irritating me. Otherwise, I'd probably talk politely. They are grown-ups, after all.

I dialed a new number and was surprised to see that the screen even showed his full name - I only had a first and a middle name.

This time I restrained myself and asked exactly what Tolik had asked me - about health and condition. I heard that everything was great and would be even better, and I was satisfied when I pressed the red icon that represented the tube being put down - this was all familiar and clear.

"Here, crybaby," I poked the phone into his chest. "Go ahead and whine."

All that was left was for Slavka to return the ice cream, and I'd have a full settlement of my debts. I smiled at the sun, carefully tore the sticker off the first ice cream cone, licked the paper circle, licked off the sticky layer of goodies, and squeezed my eyes shut in pleasure. Life is good!

----------------------------------------

"Fedya, I have no idea who Georgieva Elena Vasilievna is, but she should be in a separate intensive care ward today under the personal supervision of a healer."

...

"Fedya, you just don't know whose phone just popped up on the caller ID. I do! I want to live, Fedya!"

----------------------------------------

"You have been excused for a few minutes." In front of a row of dejected children dressed in the uniform of the Preobrazhensky Lyceum, the master teacher waddled out, folding his arms behind his back. "I thought you were independent enough to walk ten paces in the park and buy yourselves an ice cream. What's the result? I ask you, gentlemen, and I am waiting for an answer."

The formation remained silent, vexed by the prying eyes of passers-by.

"Teacher, we're guilty, but can we go without outsiders?" The first person in the line expressed a common opinion.

Alas, there was nowhere to hide in the park, so for all the delicacy of the Master Teacher, the verbal flogging was close to the public. The man grimaced irritably and waved his hand, raising a dust curtain between the slowly gathering crowd and the students.

"Now, you going to tell me why some peasant almost robbed one of you, yelled at you, and then walked away unharmed?"

"He reeked of creepiness," they grumbled from the ranks.

"So?!" The crowd was bombarded with a torrent of that very same creepiness. "Don't we teach you to confront it?! Make your mentor happy - tell me someone pissed in their trousers because of a giftless schtick!"

"I could have beaten him," the girl whispered at the end of the line. "But it was my fault. I didn't wait in line..."

"Twenty laps around the block instead of dinner!"

The girl perked up but immediately fell back to staring at the ground.

"I'll tell my dad, he'll show him..." the owner of the gold phone rambled into the ground.

"Dear Nikolai Alekseyevich," the teacher gently addressed him, "you will be surprised, but your honorable father is not 'he show him', but 'he show you', and with a rod! Would you like to make a bet?"

The boy shook his head vividly and furtively touched his back. Apparently, it was familiar to him.

"You should be able to put them in their place yourself! Not through your father or your brothers! And not with your fists, my precious! With words!" The formation was once more struck with creepiness. "A commoner must know their place! How are you going to help your parents and earn the respect of the servants of the family... if you can't make yourself respected by the one and only arrogant boarding school rat?! Shame on you, gentlemen!"

"We are sorry, Teacher!"

"It's not you they're shouting at! They are screaming at your coat of arms, at hundreds of generations of ancestors! It's not you they're stealing from. It's the whole clan! In your words and actions, in your ability to defend yourself and your property, is the honor of the clan!" The master teacher stopped pacing and now looked at the detached faces of his students.

It seemed to get through - going out into the city was more useful than he thought.

"We'll find him, Teacher!"

"If you decide to take revenge by maiming or killing, by yourself or through family, I will be disappointed in you."

"B-but!..."

"But if you find him now and, without touching him, explain the depth of his delusions... Without touching him! And bring him to me to apologize in my presence... it will be a better excuse for you and a source of pride for me. I will give you one hour."

"Yes, Teacher!" The chorus now sounded confident, the faces in the ranks burning with fierce determination and a desire to achieve the goal.

"And remember - revenge should be against an equal. You are the honor of the family. Do not stain honor with such baseness as the death or pain of someone who cannot even respond with dignity."

* * *

Chapter 10

Apologies