I was among the liberals. Our party proposed to settle the poorest sections of the population in Houses to make room for the worthy. And to avoid any dissatisfaction, they gave you modulator chips. Augmented reality did the rest. It swallowed up the poor. You are entangled in it like a fly in a spider’s web.
– More worthy? – I almost hit the guest in the jaw for such words. Do they, in the Government, consider themselves the navel of the universe?
– Many people in Centrum think so. But not me. As I see, it’s not you either. I think we’ll see you again. If you want to join the resistance, you are welcome. By the way, Dmitry appears to be dead. I advise you to use the money that will come to your account in the near future wisely. Take care of yourself. Goodbye.
The guest’s phantom disappeared. But the sediment remained in my soul. That is, someone can walk safely down the street, but someone is locked from birth in a tin can of Houses, the only way out of which is a chip modulator?
An image appeared before my eyes: «You have a new message from the user Davydjons»
Dimon! Can’t be! I thought I wouldn’t see you again!
«Hello, Ilya! If you’re reading this message, it means I’m in trouble. You know where to find me»
The modulator is for the poor. But do I have a way out? Maybe my friend is being killed there. I won’t sit with my hands folded, will I?
He inserted a chip the size of the phalanx of his little finger into the implant at the back of his head. I didn’t bother with special effects. No portals. He simply walked through the walls until he found himself in the apartment in which he once lived. My whole family watched a film projected onto the wall. How I miss them! Only for the family that existed before Lyubka’s birth. And to Uncle Igor. When father was alive.
Jumped out the window. We urgently need to be near the House where Dima lives. But you shouldn’t attract attention to yourself. For that black creature that shot Dimon, I am one tooth apart. He waved his hand. Some taxi drivers wear modulators. One of these lowered a gravity car in front of me, descending from the fifth or fourth layer of multi-level air transport traffic.
– To House 23.
In the virtual world, the taxi driver looked like a rock star from the century before last. Combed bangs, leather jacket, lots of chains. It smelled like beer. Rock music was playing throughout.
Yo-ho-ho! We are not afraid of the dead
We love mermaids, we are bottomlessly drunk.
We will be hanged – we will be finished!
But while we are alive, you are doomed!
He looked closely at the guy. Probably one of ours. Although, who doesn’t know this song?
I don’t know about piracy, but he did an excellent job with a gravity car. The machine could be built into any empty space. Sometimes he flew up to the very clouds, and there were times when he almost crashed into the ground. To be honest, I almost pissed my pants with nutritional mixture number six when he lowered me to the ground after a steep dive.
– Arrived! Do you need to wait?
– No, thank you! I’m back with my legs!
– Okay, as you know!
What a man! Taxi driver from God. He took me faster than I flew yesterday on the wings of a Valkyrie.
I felt for the viper button. It might come in handy today. He looked around the huge House. A monster created by man from concrete and iron. Look left, right, up. Not a hint of the horizon, just windows and windows. Those who get corner apartments are lucky. And the majority live in the interior. I see sunlight only when I emerge as a phantom from the apartment. Who can figure it out: does the drawn luminary look like the one above the clouds of smog? But a fluorescent lamp is completely different.
Two men in uniform led Dimon out of the opened door. I saw my friend for the first time, but immediately realized that it was him. A fat guy like me. No sign of the pile of muscles.
But there is not a shadow of emotion in the eyes of his comrade. He muttered something incoherently. He screamed, breaking free from the tenacious clutches of the policemen. It looks like it’s a third generation weapon after all. Or he himself has gone crazy over the past 24 hours.
– Hello Young man! – exclaimed a short-haired man of about forty. – And I’m still waiting for you to appear. Special Agent Arteev. Information Security Service.
I started to run, but an electric discharge pierced my body. I was paralyzed. The agent clutched a pistol in his hand.
– Are you going far?
I pressed the red viper button and found myself in my home room. Maybe it’s for the best to live in the House? It’s safe here.
– Ilya, hello! – Svetka, how glad I am to see you!
It became dark for a moment, and then I found myself in a room with white walls. A cop was standing nearby. Arteev, it seems? I reached for the viper. The agent shook his head.
– It’s not worth it. You, boy, are tied to this room. Whether you run away or not, this thing,» he showed me a small remote control, «will bring you back here.» Give me the viper. You don’t need him.
He swiped his hand, and the red round viper button disappeared from my interface.
– Ilya Petrovich Sorokin, right?
– Yes.
– Fifteen years.
– I’m seventeen!
Can’t he tell a fifteen-year-old boy from a seventeen-year-old man?!
– Oh, sorry, the database hasn’t been updated. Now I see it. You look young! You live in House number two. And our police office is located in the neighboring House. But you probably won’t be returning home anytime soon.
– You used first-generation weapons against me! It was banned by trade unions of information workers five years ago.
– As I see, you know the laws well? – the cop laughed. -Are you a member of the trade union of information workers? I think if you only worked legally, you wouldn’t be standing here. And so…
He sang without hitting the notes:
Don’t hide your fins from me,
We are pirates, we are good people,
I am not a coward, not a villain, not an executioner.
There are no women – so a mermaid will do!
– How do you know this song?
– Many of the Information Security Service have a dark past. But I gave up all these things a long time ago. I’m now on the other side of the barricades, so to speak. But you, boy, have serious problems. Yesterday you decided to steal information from very serious people. So serious that now you can’t hide. Wherever you decide to hide, they will come out of the ground!
The cop waved his hand through the air, and a metal rod appeared in front of me. Then another one. And so on until I found myself locked behind bars.
– So serious that they can afford to use third-generation weapons? – I asked.
«That’s