Nicron #105 13 декабря 1998

Самиздат

Story - On the bridge.

              On the bridge

(C) Andrew Shcherbak-Zhukov
Illustration - (c) Alexey Antipov / Goblin



   Dawns. A large, bright-red sun slowly rises
over the dark city.


   The city sleeps. This city does not wake up at dawn - he 
sleeps always. The industrial sector particularly hard hit by 
the bombing. Less and less people come here. They are simply 
nothing to do. It is not their world. 

   The atmosphere is complete collapse. The slanting rays 
illuminate the ruins of shops and stump break up of pipes, are 
reflected in piles of broken glass and drowning in greasy, 
thick dust that covered everything. It's a world of chaos and 
dead things. 

   Not a sound, not a single living soul. Only a stone, glass 
and metal, some vehicles and buildings - the former appointment 
only This has long been impossible to understand.



   And above all this rises clear, the morning sun ...


   Strange, eerie sight. I am from a height very well seen
every detail, every piece of this horrible picture: dust,
ruins, and the gray shade and morning sun.


   I live right on the bridge. Maybe someone does seem
funny and strange - in the residential sector, they say, is not 
difficult to find yourself a free small room - but I like it 
here. I there is a big, round barrel, and when it rain, I'm 
takin ' inside and was wrapped in a blanket. I am warm and dry.


   Below, a few steps from my bridge, there is a coffee 
machine. Then that it synthesizes, completely edible and 
nutritious. Like all machines of the city, he hammered out 
before the depreciated coins and works for free. 

   So, despite the apparent disadvantages, I settled up with 
the Joneses. Yes, I am one. Completely alone. But, unlike all 
others, I have a job. In a world where no one cares even his 
own life, is a rarity. I am very proud and very much value 
their business. Though not all, not all understand me. Most 
people think I'm crazy. About me say a lot of nonsense, but I'm 
not offended, because I believe in their cause. 

   Twice a day under the bridge carried by train: in the 
morning from the east to the west in the evening - on the 
contrary. Of course, he never carries it long time no use to 
anyone. But he continues to wander hither and thither to 
automation. They say it has enriched uranium forty years - and 
will probably go. And that - machines live longer than men ... 


   This is only a bridge and a single moving train
throughout the city.


   Sometimes there are people on the bridge. They look away 
dull, stiff look and wait for the train. 


   They come from faraway residential sector. There are lots of 
dilapidated houses, basements ... They, like animals in burrows 
people live. Almost all of the time they sleep, buried in piles 
of old rags. Only a few times a day they go out to

walk to the nearest coffee machine, get enough to go back
in their nests.


   I do not understand how people can sleep for so long.


   But even when not sleeping, they are still immersed deep 
into yourself, and their eyes do not see anything around. It 
seems to me that everyone is covered with semipermeable shell. 
Probably, this reaction of the body on what is happening around 
them. 

   Around the world in chaos, and the man tries in vain to find 
a him a place.



   For many years people have become accustomed to live. They 
stopped paying for something mind ceased to think about life, 
have ceased to dream ... They no longer represent a different 
being. 

   This is the life of inertia. It is the existence of 
semi-automatic. But it's easier and calmer. 


   Those who come to the bridge, understand the futility of 
such a life. They are tired of living aimlessly, and quickly. 
They have lost faith in the fact that this life is when 
something changes. They came to the bridge to escape forever 
from this life. So, waiting for a train to throw at him. From 
the bridge. Down. 


   And then there I am.


   I go to them and urge them to stay. They always listen to me 
carefully, silently nod and then go off and no longer appear. I 
am returning them to life. Saving from themselves. 


   I see this as meaning in their lives. My main thing.


   After seventeen years ago, I was the same as they did. I was 
young and stupid. I saw the world as it is, without 
distortions, stereotypes ... I understand that now people do 
not need one other. People do not need themselves. People do 
not need anyone at all. If somewhere and preserve nature, only 
far away, outside the city, and people are cut off, separated 
from her ... So you can no longer live. Simply makes no sense.


   And I gathered people. Those who knew who lived nearby. And 
I said to them all. At first I thought they were going to beat 
me! But no. They stood and stared at me. Looked at close range, 
but not seen. Never heard of. Did not understand or tried to 
understand. I cried tore his clothes ... But they also quietly 
turned and left. And only one came up to me and said: "Shut up. 
And so sickening. "And he said, too, was gone.


   And then I left the house in which people lived and went to 
the bridge. I walked through the crumbling city, the dirty 
streets, past the rickety houses. I hated this city. I saw a 
gray, wrinkled faces of the people leaning out of the 
basements. I hated these people. I was not turning around and 
trying not to think about nothing. I hated myself. 

   I climbed onto the bridge. In the distance appeared the 
train. I've already tossed leg over the fence, but suddenly 
behind me there was a calm, confident voice:


   - Sorry, you do not say how long?

   I shuddered and turned around - in front of me stood a 
strange man middle-aged. He had a rough beard and bushy hair 
with thin gray, and on his head - a distinguished purple hat 
with a wide, faded fields. He looked at me with sharp, deep 
penetrating into the subjects eyes and seemed to be mesmerized 
- I could not move. He too was immobile. 

   The train sped under the bridge. Everything shuddered, and 
he revived. 

   - Do you know how much time there is humanity? - He asked 
me. I stood and blinked stupidly, and he, without waiting for 
an answer continued - Lost? For about three million years! And 
you want that it has disappeared? Not? But how, then you 
understand? You can see how these people live? Do you realize 
how pitiful and pointless their existence? And they - no! They 
do not understand! Change, to fix all this can only he who step 
by step went all the way, who opened the eyes of those who knew 
... And you understood everything in a hurry to the bridge to 
get away from this world. Go away forever and never come back! 

   Disappear easier. But who will?! To whom you are throwing 
the whole world!? As you all can throw it! Such as You should 
not leave! They just do not have the right to leave! And you .. 
How can you ... 

   His words are full of pathos, now seem naive, even by some 
implausible. But it was so. He it was serious, experienced 
every word. On his face was sincere disappointment, his lips 
trembling, his eyes watering. Hat all the time, slipped over 
his eyes, and he frantically straighten it. He swallowed 
saliva, and continued by clicking on the "you": 

   - Understand, this is just a test, one of many falling on
our share. No matter who sent it - fate, God, the devil ... His
must endure, endure. Anyone who has traveled all the way and 
realized being tested. Understand this and you will feel better 
... You must live - you need people. Although they do not know 
how you tell them need ...


   In the hands of your fire and let them not only illuminate 
the dark world - do not rush to extinguish it. When thou art 
not alone, and such lights will be much gloom and darkness of 
the retreat itself. From the cooled ashes of the last war, the 
state will be born of light, love and justice ... The worst - 
in the past. 

   Do not rush to extinguish his fire, as difficult as you may 
be ... In a time of each may depend on the future. Maybe from

You ...

   Have the strength and patience ...

   He talked and talked, talked ... I do not understand 
everything, but still remembered. I was in a terrible state 
poluotsepenevshem. I leaned to something back, and sat in this 
posture suddenly fell asleep. Then Does a day full of 
excitement and stress, so exhausted me, whether he man was 
indeed a hypnotist ... 

   I awoke from the noise of a train speeding under the bridge. 
Around swirling morning mist, it is dense, whitish wall, 
screened from my city. A breeze ruffled the yellowed paper. The 
bridge was empty. I passed on it, came back - no one. Silence. 
Only my footsteps sounded hollow and anxious. I walked over to 
the fence and looked down - there are uneven flows through the 
fog something dark. The wind blew harder, and something bright 
roll along the rails. I found a purple hat of yesterday's 
conversation. Yes, it was he said.


   And then I realized: he came to the bridge over the same as 
me, and all he said he was not talking to me, and myself. He 
tried to convince myself, but could not. But he convinced me. I 
believe in the fact that We have a future, it certainly will 
be. But only if we people that truly want. Still not too late. 
Everything can be fixed, reversed, re-created. 


   Since then, I'm standing on the bridge, and when there are 
people here, I went up to him and repeat word for word 
everything that I said the day the person:



   - Do you know how much time there is humanity? ..


   Each bridge is something connects.


   The red sun rises above the devastated city. The city seems
dead, but somewhere far away people live, came down from my 
bridge. They were terrible way, they opened their eyes, they 
realized many things, they found their place in this chaos. 
They will begin a new life. They will build the city anew. I do 
not know what it would be - probably, clean and light, probably 
everyone in it will love each other, probably, there will be a 
place animals and plants ... I do not know, but I believe in 
these people! 


   I love them ... All.