Chapter 35

Again, after Mikhailov's words, a heavy wave of anger rose in Butakov's soul. Only with great effort of will it was possible to suppress it. Over the past night, the obvious was said to him many times mentally and aloud:

- Without Mikhailov, whoever he really was, without his blood, which now terrifies you, your Matveyka would no longer be in the world.

Matvey Vlasovich promised himself not to forget this under any circumstances. He firmly determined for himself the main thing - to get to the bottom of the essence. Who is this Mikhailov? Who are his compatriots, where are they from? Why are they here? What do they want from the Butakov family? What can turn out for Matvey his amazing salvation?

The old watch-clock, which Tretyakov brought with him from his parents' house sometime after the death of his mother, calmly counted the minutes. Usually their quiet knock gave a special comfort to the taiga house, mysteriously linking time and space. Now he emphasized the tension between men. Everyone internally prepared for the conversation. Pavel reluctantly obeyed the advice of the owner of the house and went to sleep in a room in the annex. Altai, which had run in plenty during the day, dozed at the feet of Tretyakov. The table was cleared, the unchanged freshly brewed Siberian tea with herbs was cooling on it. Outside the window, one could catch the breath of the sleeping taiga and the crunch of snow under the paws of Grozny. He made an evening tour of the estate.

Even in the afternoon, long before this moment, Butakov had to promise that everything said here would remain in this room forever. I had to. Against my will. He tried to argue against this:

Why all these secrets? Isn't it because of them that so many problems have been created? At least for my family?

Tretyakov was ahead of Mikhailov's answer:

- And you, Vlasovich, think about the family. Do you want everyone to know the story of Matthew? About what happened to him? Do you think it would be great for him to live with this? How many smart and complete jerks will be circling around him and all of you? How many researchers, imaginary and real, want to make a career on it? How many hacks come up with? Do you want it?

After a pause, he added with some shudder:

- What will happen to me? With this place? Hundreds of curious idlers will come here, fly in by helicopters, sail along the river...

- Don't take me for a fool. Why do I need all this?

“So that's why the best thing we can do right now is keep our mouths shut... At least for now. We will try to answer all your questions, if we can, of course. And we will have to decide together. No other way.

The silence was becoming painful. Tretyakov took a noisy sip from his mug, coughed, got ready to say something, but did not have time. Butakov turned to Mikhailov:

- Well, how do you live in our taiga?

Least of all, George expected such a question. True, over the long years of communicating with people, he was somewhat accustomed to their unpredictability. The grandfather, worried about the fate of his grandson, in his opinion, should have been talking about him first of all. He himself would have done the same, as well as any of those with whom he found himself by the will of fate on this tiny island of the endless taiga, far from the inhabited places. On Earth, about which he had previously had a completely different idea. But now he has already learned to get along with those whom he initially feared. Now he sometimes sincerely considered their way of thinking not only acceptable, but even justified. But not in this case, of course. However, Matvey Vlasovich was waiting for an answer. George tried to hide his bewilderment:

- Fine. We live normally. Nobody bothers us here.

- And in other places they interfered, then?

George reluctantly continued the topic:

- Yes, several times because of this we had to look for a new place.

- Repeatedly? So, how long have you been living with us?

Mikhailov scratched his forehead in puzzlement.

- I don’t even know how to explain it, for us “for a long time” is not exactly what you define years and decades.

- Centuries?

— No, we measure time in eras.

— Erami? echoed Butakov.

- Yes, approximately several tens of centuries - one era.

Matvey Vlasovich looked at George, at Yuri. They were both serious. This further strengthened the sense of unreality of what was happening. Unable to cope with his excitement, Butakov got up, paced the room, went to the window. The night was already thickening there. The moon looked silently from above, the stars twinkled. Grozny, sensing movement in the house, turned his head towards him. In the weak light of a table kerosene lamp, barely penetrating the windows, the huge dog also seemed to be some kind of mythical creature. Barely tearing his eyes away from him, Butakov noticed a fly between two wooden frames. She was motionless.

“Era, several hundred centuries... how long did a fly live? Day two. Woke up at the wrong time, buzzing. And that's it. We didn't notice. And the person is released 70-80 years. For those who measure time in eras - a moment. So who are we to them?

Matvey Vlasovich shrugged his shoulders as if from a chill. He resolutely drove the annoying thoughts away from him. He turned to Mikhailov:

“And how many eons ago did you make your home on Earth?”

The first one hasn't finished yet. But I can't say for sure.

- What is it like? Do you care how long you've been here?

- Important. There are accurate records. They contain not only eras or centuries, years. But every day is listed. Moreover, not only in our reckoning, but also yours. Everything that happened to us during this time is there. Every episode. Everything is done automatically. But we, like you, in everyday life, in conversation with each other, note a lot only approximately. After all, sometimes you also say “fifteen years ago” it was with me so-and-so.

- And where did you come to us from?

Mikhailov's sincere amazement was impossible to hide from his interlocutors. Yes, he didn't even try.

“Ah... now I understand why you are asking me about how long we have been on Earth. And I launched into explanations about our time. Sorry I did not understand. Where did we come from? The fact of the matter is that we did not fly away. They wanted to, but they couldn't. Do you think we are aliens?

- Isn't that right?

Mikhailov shook his head and answered with a grin:

Yes...that's what people are like. If you meet those who are not exactly like you, then immediately declare them alien, alien. And we, imagine, are the same earthlings as you are. Only, perhaps, they appeared here earlier. Long before you. Therefore, we measure time not in centuries, but in eras.

— Earthlings? Are they the same as us? Butakov asked.

“Well, didn’t it ever even occur to you that the Earth belongs not only to you?” What can exist on it, or rather, live, and others?

Butakov shrugged.

- What are you talking about? Who are these “others”, how did they get here?

— And how did you end up on Earth? You don't know this either. Talk a lot about it, but nothing definite. Yes, guesswork. So why don't you agree that others have appeared on the planet in parallel with you. Where and how - the question was of great interest to us once in antiquity. But then there were much more important problems. I'm pretty sure something similar will happen to you someday. We have to solve more significant problems. How do we.

Butakov grimaced in annoyance and, trying to restrain his emotions, protested:

- Don't mess with my head. If you are talking about parallel worlds, then this is from the realm of fantasy. I wasn’t very fond of it in my youth, and now even more so.

- Well, before Yuri showed you our camp, you did not believe in the existence of "people of the taiga." Also, probably, they considered it fairy tales? Although there was evidence. Northern hunters even gave us a name. Those who accidentally stumbled upon us and those to whom they told about us.

For some time, Matvey Vlasovich silently studied the face of his interlocutor and Yuri, who was attentively listening to their conversation. Both of them were clearly far from being joking. And it no longer seemed to him that Yuri and Georgy were about to laugh, they would say that the prank was a success and there was another, quite sensible answer to all his questions. The faces of his new friends were serious. In their eyes one could read only some sympathy for him, for what he had to face. For the first time in his long life. And this slight condescension resonated unpleasantly in the soul of a man who had lived and experienced a lot in his life. But nothing lessened the desire to deal with everything to the end. Through force, but he admitted:

- Well, let's say - this is not an invention of writers or journalists. Not hunting stories. By the way, I fully admit that life once brought to Earth could either initially have different forms, or develop in different ways. I can even imagine that these "parallel worlds" somehow do not intersect on our, in general, not very large planet. We don't see each other, we don't feel... we don't suspect each other's existence.

Mikhailov interrupted:

“That's not entirely true. Something you do encounter, usually leads to confusion. Your scientists are trying to find answers to many "riddles". For some reason, however, all of them are attributed to past civilizations. I understand that it is easier for a person to accept.

- What are you talking about? About the pyramids again? About ancient structures?

Yes, about them too. Only now they are not so ancient. Or rather, not all of them. Do you think that there can be “signs of antiquity”, which are allegedly confirmed by your research methods, sometimes appear during their transition into your reality? In fact, they are traces of the failures of the current "builders" or not very justified projects. This happens in our world. As are disasters. They also leave a lot behind. As are yours.

- Ours?

- Well, yes, yours. For example, Chernobyl. Is it for a long time, if not forever? How many abandoned mines? Or what your polar explorers left behind? Something that, after all, can be swallowed up by permafrost for millennia. How many wars have you fought? They also remain not only in history, but also in ...

Butakov could not resist:

- Answer me directly - did you know about our existence? Or is it just us now and then come across "your footprints"?

“Our scientists knew, they provided evidence, but for us it is not as important as for people. We are too busy with ourselves. Your future. We care less about what we do not depend on. While your activities are too small to somehow affect us. Though it might happen in the future.

"And how the hell are these 'our footprints' going to surface in 'your reality'?"

Mikhailov sighed heavily.

- This is impossible to predict. Accidents. They are always both satellites of disasters and its causes. And they also generate unpredictable consequences. One of them is the collision of parallel realities. What do you call it.

Butakov chuckled.

- Accidents. I thought that for us, for people, this is most often incompetence or just stupidity. Sloppiness. I hope you don't.

And we have enough of everything. But, in the end, it all fits into what is called "accident". After all, stupidity in itself may not have consequences if it does not coincide with some other factors. Is not it?

Butakov waved his hand.

— The question is debatable, but we will leave it for later. I would like to know more, what “pushed” you to us? What power or whose will?

Mikhailov looked at Butakov almost with admiration:

Yes, you got the point. It is evil will, multiplied by chance, and here we are.

— Hmm... do I understand correctly that being in our “niche” on a common planet is the result of some kind of catastrophe? Partly man-made, so to speak. Is it clear what I said?

Mikhailov nodded approvingly.

- You can't put it better. That is exactly what happened to us then. Our crew, those whom you have already seen in the gorge, have only recently begun to fulfill the task of the High Assembly. We had to confirm or refute the conclusions of scientists. Astronomers have discovered a large uninhabited planet, which they proposed to turn into a satellite. According to their calculations, the conditions on it were very comfortable for us. So solve the problem of overpopulation. We have been preparing for the flight for a long time. Finally, everything was over. Started successfully. Already began to get used to the rhythm of life on the ship.

And again Butakov listened and did not accept what was said. More than once since the beginning of the conversation, he had a feeling of his uselessness. The desire to cut him off grew stronger. The only thing that stopped me was the realization that there was nowhere else to look for answers to my questions anyway. Therefore, he forced himself to endure what he considered far from reasonable explanations. But... on the other hand... after all, the truth - seen in the gorge, also still seemed to be from the realm of fantasy. And so, remembering this, he clarified:

- Can you tell us more about everything that happened to you?

- Yes. Good. And I ask you to listen to me to the end. Try it. Even if you don't believe me.

- I'm listening to.

- You will have to understand that the Earth in "our niche", as you call it, looks different than here, with you. For example, we have large cities in this place, as well as in the area of ​​the whole taiga. This is your city - a million-plus city is considered large. Ours is an ordinary settlement. So - at least about a hundred million live in the place of the taiga. Everything is built. Forests are only on maps, pictures, in records from the distant past. It is you who have a river flowing here, in which trout is found. We have a long forgotten fish. All places on the planet, including mountains, are overpopulated. In order to somehow fit on it, we had to give up not only forests, but even gardens and fields. Everything we eat, we synthesize from what is grown on artificial satellites. We have learned to do with a minimum of clothing. This made it possible to get rid of factories and factories. But the population increased.

Butakov said sarcastically:

Our poor earth! How barbaric we sometimes treat her. But she still has to endure you. And maybe there are still "niches" with their "barbarians" ...

Mikhailov paid no attention to Butakov's tone:

— Not excluded. There may, of course, be other worlds. But I would argue about the "patience" of the Earth. You yourself know how many natural disasters have happened only in recent years. It is unlikely that they happened without a reason.

Butakov raised his hands.

“Just don’t talk about that now.” And without it, the head is spinning. Let's return to the resettlement of your citizens. Where and how did you decide to do it?

“I already explained. Astronomers have discovered a new planet. Large. With good conditions for us.

- Exploring space is a reasonable decision, why not. Although we are not so concerned about the problem of resettlement, we are also looking at it.

- I know. But you are only taking the first steps into space. Nevertheless, we are already faced with the fact that there are forces there that do not want you to appear on their territories, and here, too, not everyone agrees to spend forces and means on this.

Tretyakov, who had previously silently listened to the dialogue, this time intervened:

- As for confronting us in space, this is more a myth than the truth. No one has confirmed such facts on the moon, for example. Yes, and our astronauts deny meeting with some kind of intelligent beings during flights.

Mikhailov objected vehemently:

Are they denied or are they ordered to deny? We have long understood that you easily hold back facts that are unpleasant for you. And sometimes...

Mikhailov stumbled, realizing that he had said too much, tried to correct:

...Let's not talk about this. Now we are not talking about this.

But Butakov paid little attention to his words. Something else was on his mind right now.

- So there, in your earthly world, you also lived here, in the taiga?

“Not exactly here. Much north. If from the point of view of your geography, then rather in the tundra. But we also have a densely populated region. The climate is a little like yours. Industrial and scientific zone. The ocean is there, but warm.

— Hmm... The Arctic Ocean is warm... But... let's say. Curious what other continents of the Earth look like in your world? Or have you not been to other places on our planet before appearing in our area, in the taiga? And you don't know anything about her?

Why? We have been trying for a long time to find a suitable shelter for ourselves in other areas. They lived in the Gobi desert, then moved to one of the canyons of America, spent some time in the forests of the Amazon, in Tibet. We were looking for secluded places.

“And you didn’t want to stay anywhere?”

“In one of them we were met by savages. How they managed to discover our settlement is still a mystery. We own technologies that can make our village invisible. But they appeared before us unexpectedly. Then they followed every step. We could not get out from under our dome even for a minute. These psychos were throwing stones and arrows at us.

- And technology did not help to hide?

- Not. They knew exactly where we were and when we were going to remove the protection. Don't ask how they did it. We still don't know this.

In Mikhailov's words, there was a note of sincere superiority over those whom he did not hesitate to call "savages." Only in this case it was mixed with surprise.

Butakov chuckled.

- Maybe they weren't so "savages"? It's just that their way of life was different than yours? Or maybe technology is not always stronger than intuition? Or other capabilities of the human brain? But in the end - why didn't you like neighborhood with them?

Mikhailov caught Butakov's irony, but considered it good to ignore it.

- Us? They didn't like us. They didn't want to leave us alone. I had to move away from them. But even there, not everything suited us.

— And only in Siberia did you find what you were looking for?

— Yes, you can say that. Everything we need is here. The main thing is peace.

— And how do you do it? Are you traveling our planet? After all, the accident deprived you of a starship?

- Not really. And it was not an accident, but an attack on us by a warship. The disaster was not swift. The entire crew managed to move to an isolated compartment. It is completely autonomous. And practically unkillable. Looks like those fireproof boxes you supply to planes. Only the bow of the starship was lost, with engines and controls.

- So, you have nothing to do with the incident in the Tunguska taiga? We had a theory that it was not a meteorite that exploded, but a manned vehicle.

“It wasn't us.

Butakov did not have time to react, as Mikhailov hastily added:

“It wasn't us, but a warship sent after us.

He paused, made an effort on himself and said in a low voice:

We shot him down, destroyed him...

The stunned Butakov did not immediately come to his senses:

— What are you? Have you destroyed your own?

Mikhailov shrugged his shoulders and objected with a bitter laugh:

- Yours? It's good that we are not as naive as you. Especially our Commander. Our struggle for power began long before our flight. He understood that it was not for nothing that he was sent on this distant flight. The commander was highly respected by our society, which did not please many in the Supreme Council. We wanted to get rid of a competitor. And they did it. On the same day, already in flight, information reached us about a coup in the Supreme Assembly. It was seized by those who did not rule out war as the solution to all our problems. They have dreamed about it for a long time. Peaceful development of some distant territories! Why did they have it? They decided that there was a much more effective way to deal with the overpopulation of the planet. Cut it short. And here they were not going to choose the means. Everything ingenious is simple.

Mikhailov was silent for a long time, struggling to cope with his emotions. Matvey Vlasovich and Yuri involuntarily looked away. Even Yuri, who had been talking with Georgy for many years, saw him for the first time in this way.

Having finally mastered his excitement, Mikhailov finished:

We have become not only unnecessary, but also dangerous. Among us there were those who enjoyed authority, could confuse their cards. So it was decided to bury us quickly. Organize a disaster at the very beginning of the journey.

How did you manage to understand this?

- I already kind of said - our commander did not let himself be deceived. As it turned out later, he had long had suspicions of a conspiracy. Realizing that this would have consequences for the expedition, he ordered to follow all the negotiations of the authorities. I finally came to the conclusion that there is an intention to leave us on Earth forever. That's why his order to launch a preemptive strike was correct.

- Yes ... they were not lucky with the "exiled". Their plan worked against them. It happens. But I can imagine how it was. Terrible.

“The most terrible days of our lives,” Mikhailov confirmed. “We can only hope that this will never happen again.”

Georgy was obviously very sincere at that moment, but Butakov was not thinking about him at all.