At 7:00 they were to meet Alexander Ivanovich and go to this "very-most center". In the morning, Alexander Ivanovich picked him up. There was a driver sitting behind the wheel of the company car, who looked suspiciously at Rutra. The license plates were military, series 16. They drove straight out of town and into some kind of specially protected reserve zone, which was impossible to enter, only through a checkpoint with darkened windows. There was a sign on the iron fence that said it was some kind of estate.
The car stopped in front of the gate, no one came out to them, no documents were demanded. Alexander Ivanovich called someone, and the gate opened automatically. They drove for a long time. Rutra was even surprised that some park area, some forest, was the location of a top-secret center.
They reached a miniature house that was buried in greenery on all sides. It was almost invisible. If the road didn't lead to it, they wouldn't be able to find it at all. It was a beautiful house, like a picture. Only part of its facade was visible. Rutra's careful eye determined that there were many camouflaged objects around.
– This is the lodge of the hunter of the international court, – explained Alexander Ivanovich.
– What does that mean?
– We call it that because it decides who will be free and who will be in a cage, dead or alive. Let's go.
They went into the courtyard. Alexander Ivanovich put his thumb to some device, but not on the pad side, as it usually happens, but on the nail side. The door opened.
They went into the house. The furnishings were from the 1950s. Everything was very clean, neat, but no one was there. They went into the hallway, from there into the next room, then into the hall, then into another room. In that room there was a fireplace. Alexander Ivanovich pressed a button on the remote control for the television. The fireplace moved away, and a small platform opened up.
– Stand next to me," he commanded.
Ruthra walked over. They stood on the platform. Alexander Ivanovich pressed a button, and they began to descend. It was an elevator. They descended to the room below. There was another platform there. Alexander Ivanovich pressed another button, and the platform descended to the floor below.
It was dark. He took Ruthra's hand and stepped forward. Ruthra followed. They found themselves in pitch blackness. The platform rose back up.
After a second or two, the light came on. The room was completely empty; there was only plaster on the walls, no paint, no wallpaper. Alexander Ivanovich went out into the corridor; Rutra followed him.
The corridor was illuminated by a dim light. When they reached the end of the corridor, Alexander Ivanovich raised his hand and started waving, as if he was trying to show someone something. Suddenly something clicked, and the wall that was in front of them went down. A passage opened up.
Alexander Ivanovich walked ahead, Rutra followed him. They walked a few meters, and the door closed behind them.
Instead of numbers on the code lock of the next door there were hieroglyphics. Alexander Ivanovich pressed 6 of them – the door opened. It was an elevator vestibule. They went in there, the door closed, the elevator went down. Rutra became wary.
– Where are we going?
– Right in the center.
– But not to the center of the Earth, right? – Ruthra joked.
– Not to the center of the Earth, but to the center that rotates the Earth," Aleksandr Ivanovich answered and pointed his index finger upwards.
Ruthra was silent. It wasn't customary for specialists in such services to talk much, much less joke. Every word was a chain of inferences that could be used to get a lot of information. If someone said something badly or made a joke, let alone acted, it could cost him not only his career, but also his freedom and life. You could be an ex if you had your memory erased, and since there was no such technology, as far as Ruthra knew, he realized that he might share the fate of those who "went nowhere," as the experts put it among themselves.
The elevator stopped, the door opened, and they found themselves in a new corridor, exactly the same as the previous one. Ruthra thought it was a test or some kind of trick.
They walked down the corridor to a door that was disguised as a wall. Alexander Ivanovich waved his hand again, the wall slid open, and they stepped out into another corridor. Rutra thought this was a test of courage, and even began to wonder if he had thought the elevator was only going down. He also remembered that the wall in front of which Alexander Ivanovich had waved had been before the elevator, and here it was after the corridor.
When they reached the wall at the end of the corridor, Ruthra realized something was wrong. It wasn't a wall, but a solid glass door. Either it was covered with a black film or the glass itself was black. On the door was a sign that read: "You are seen, you are not." Alexander Ivanovich put his thumb nail to the device again, something rustled, and the door opened.
Ruthra was surprised at what he saw. It was a huge, two-level room, with a huge globe spinning in the middle of it. There were dozens of computers, different devices, and hundreds of screens arranged in several levels around the perimeter. Ruthra was even taken aback. What struck him most was the globe. It was a huge glowing globe that was projected as a three-dimensional image by a device from below. It showed in detail the topography not only of the land, but also of the ocean floor. And it was moving. Looking closely, Ruthra realized that it was slowly spinning on its axis. There were airplanes flying in the "sky"; tiny satellites hurtling along in their orbits. The artificial sun clearly separated day and night.
– What's up? Let's go," said Alexander Ivanovich.
– I didn't expect this. Where have we gotten to, Alexander Ivanovich?
– I already told you. Right in the center.
– And what is this center?
– Follow me. I'm an old man and my feet hurt, so don't ask too many questions.
Alexander Ivanovich was in his 85th year, he was a bit heavy, so it was hard for him. They walked to the end of the room. No one paid any attention to them, although there was no one to do so – the chairs behind the computers were empty.
They came to the door of the office, on which hung a sign with the inscription: NGTSOI. Alexander Ivanovich knocked and did not wait for an answer. They went into the room. There sat a vivacious grandfather in his sixties.
– Good afternoon, Yuri Vasilyevich!" Alexander Ivanovich greeted him.
– Oh-oh, what people! Good afternoon, Alexander Ivanovich! I've been waiting for you, waiting for you," he said, coming up to him, and they embraced, shaking hands firmly. – Sit down.
On the wall of the office was a huge panel on which cells showed images from surveillance cameras, including the entire path that Rutra and Alexander Ivanovich had traveled, several guard posts with similar screens, and a wide variety of surface views, from offices and building facades to areas of forest, tundra, and space.
– Here, meet him," said Alexander Ivanovich and pointed at Rutra. – Rutra Tigrovich Paskhov, that's him.
Yuri Vasilyevich smiled, looked intently at Rutra and said:
– What, was it illegal?
– I was," Ruthra replied.
– Under what last name? Or did you like that one and decided to keep it? Same first name, middle name?
Ruthra was silent. He had learned a lot over the years, namely that the system he was in was not what ordinary citizens thought of it, nor what they thought of the intelligence services. He was in a system where you had to hide the truth even from yourself. Sometimes he was so into the role that it seemed to him that he was the man whose legend he wore. Yuri Vasilyevich was still a stranger to him. Besides, this whole incident could have been another test.
Ruthra made