The Way of the Clan 6: World of Valdira by Mikhaylov Dem

Author:Mikhaylov, Dem [Mikhaylov, Dem]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2017-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

Part Two

Rush!

One straw left for later may return as a blow of timber.

(Ros’ dream after experiencing decay)

Chapter Five

Where to Go, What to Do…

A Conversation With Trouble

In the apartment we had rented, until recently, there was a white wall. One on which you wanted, more than anything, to hang a couple of pictures. Peaceful scenery, landscapes and still life.

When I climbed out of the game cocoon, I did a few stretches, allowing the muscles to recover. Then I checked on Trouble’s cocoon and enjoyed her peaceful expression through the translucent cover. It looked a little— god forbid— like a crystal coffin containing a sleeping beauty. Only she wouldn’t wake with the kiss of a prince— because so help me god if I let some prince waltz in here and try to kiss my girlfriend. I would shove his crown up his… oh, my fatigue was sure doing wonders.

But even my kiss wouldn’t wake her, unless I kissed her and pressed the emergency exit button at the same time… but somehow, I was certain that Kira would not be pleased with that.

So I didn’t bother Kira. In Valdira, she had perhaps already died and made her way to the mainland— or perhaps, she was still watching the battle between the Sleepless and the giant. I wouldn’t refuse to witness this, either— but I would prefer being a normal viewer, watching it on the couch with a bucket of popcorn, and not as a war reporter in the midst of the fighting. Closing the door to her room, I got into the hall, and remembered with some difficulty the placement of the shower in our new apartment. I stood under the hot water jets for ten minutes, two more minutes under ice cold water, and then for five more under the hot water. The tried and true method didn’t disappoint. I returned to the room refreshed, shaved, with brushed teeth, fresh boxers and a T shirt. And why was I so clean and dressed up?

Just for kicks.

My girl would crawl out of the cocoon any minute now, sweaty and exhausted, and I would jump up and help her out, all fresh, smelling of toothpaste and cologne, offering her a cup of Turkish coffee. No, that would be too much. In any case, she would get angry and run to the bath in the midst of my laughter.

Heh… the Outland has made me rather… Outlandish…?

As I formulated my cunning prank, my hands found a jar of chilled tomato soup. I also found a thick black market. And I walked to the spotless wall.

Pleasantly sipping the salty liquid, which reminded me of chilled blood, I stood there for a moment, gathering my thoughts. Then I began to sculpt my masterpiece…

Not a sculpture, no.

Among Neanderthals, I would have probably been a Michelangelo…

I would have even received an approving club to the head— so that I could not ruin any more cave walls.

On the wall, one after the other, appeared words and characters.

Why did I suddenly start writing on the walls? It’s simple— I had had enough.

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