Let's Poguram - novel-diology by Sergei Pavlov “Moonlight Rainbow” (chapter 1-5).

 Warning FBI !!! Reading all the following -
It can be dangerous for the psyche
health of individual human individuals.
under the biological age of 16
complete orbital cycles of COLA-3. Do not
escape from this text!!!                 
                                          
 As the attentive person has probably already noticed
reader.  we have another new section with
completely discouraging name "Software"
GUPMIM."  We will try without going into subtle
philosophical reasoning about the meaning of existence.
special immaterial substance. in some
in some religions it is mistakenly called the “soul”.
processes of cognition of the world. thinking, etc.
explain such a tricky name of the rubric-
ki.                                       
   In some kingdom. Soviet state
Once upon a time there was a fantastic novel-duology
Sergei Pavlov "Moonlight Rainbow". nobectby-
about the study by earthlings of one of
districts Far Out-of-Earth - surroundings
planets Uranuscrew of the ship "Lunar Ra-
arc". On the fifth satellite of Uranus -Oberon -
an anomalous zone was found. which on-
was called the zone of the Gourmet phenomenon.  Any person.
touching this area. acquired
completely inhuman capabilities.sta-
became a superman, but also an outcast in the main
zakh "ordinary earthlings". And who could then
think. that people. marked Gourmet-phenomenon
nowill open a new era - the era of interstellar
flights.                                  
                                          
                                          
   So. the word "norypmum" denotes the
This is simple - interaction with Gourmet-pheno-
by exchange. which in turn means familiar
relationship with superhumans. which in turn...
In a word. this...HUMOR. or rather  PAPO-
DIYon famous works. characters.
people.                                    
 Our first meeting withwe are unknown
We invite you to meet the unknown
hitherto side of the life of the famous council-
Russian intelligence officer M. M. (A.) Isaeva. aka
StandartenführerVon Stirlitz.This time
Russian intelligence officer saves The Great and Powerful
I smell Russiafrom violation of the Technical Rules
news. Also in the text we will find compelling
evidence of that. that during the yearsGreat
Patriotic War  CCCP  already had
supercomputer "MIKROSHA" !                
... The author of the original text of this work is
knowledge is unknown to us.  Plus the text.
which fell into our hands was somewhat damaged
chen (floating bits. phases Oberon and Moonand
etc.).According to thisM.M.A.who prepared the text.
took upon himself the responsibility to make some
other changes to the storyline.....     
                                          
            So. meet .            
    Standartenführer Von Stirlitz !!!      
=========================================================
                                          
         NINETEENTH TIC OF SPRING          
                                          
          P P E D I C L O B I E           
                                          
   Stirlitz was at the CC and the process of formatting
hard drive.                         
   Iosif Vissarionovich turned away from his
nitor and asked:                         
   - Comrade Zhyukov, have you been infected yet?  
   - No, Comrade Stalin.                 
   - Then give the last one AIDSTEST.      
   Zhukov sighed obediently, took out from his right
pocket a box of floppy disks and handed it to
Stalin.                                  
   Having crushed several floppy disks into a tube,
the commander-in-chief thoughtfully lit a cigarette fromextended CC.  Ten minutes later he
asked:                                  
   - How are things going on the Mitinsky market? 
 - They are trading, - Zhukov answered simply.     
   - How does Comrade A. Isaev feel?
  “It’s difficult for him,” Zhukov said sadly.
  “That’s good,” said Stalin. - I have-
I have a new task for him...         
   And Stirlitz and the formatting process were going on at the CC
hard drive installation.                       
                                          
               G L A B A 1                
                                          
   Low smoky  CC ceiling "Three
programmer"was almost black from floppy disks,
the walls were painted with scenes from the famous
the fairy tale after which it was named
VC. We didn’t play very well in the VC, the program
things got worse, butit didn't scare me away
his regulars.  Something else scared them away. C
Recently I got into the habit of visiting the Exhibition Center
Standartenführer CC Von Stirlitz.           
                                          
   And now he was sitting at the far
terminal, which was filled with computer-
mi for seven, and printers for eight.
Stirlitz was alone and did not wait for anyone. Sometimes
he got bored, he pulled out
pocket floppy drive with dedicatory inscription
"To programmer Isaev for the liberation of Dal-
him East   from  Felix Edmundovich
Dzerzhinsky" and with the accuracy of a true system
dark programmer formatted secretly
cockroaches hovering in the corners.                 
                                          
 - They got it here! - he yelled. - It's a mess!     
                                          
   And indeed, the CC was a mess.      
                                          
   The floor was filled with cheap toner, braided
van and littered with floppy disks.It was created first
chatting that everyone considered it their duty
if you don’t give the floorsBAD BLOCK's, then
you want to spit or spill something. That and
business, stepping through puddles and swearing, passed
the programmers were diligent.  3a next table
four  SS men dirtyly pestered
cute laboratory assistant. She liked it and
she giggled stupidly.  In the corner, buried
face in the VGA monitor, lying around, beaten
non-commissioned officer without floppy disks, but with a cartridge.
Sometimes he began tossing and turning displeasedly and
made loud indecent sounds. Two
front-line soldier, playing TETRISat the counter,
quietly talked about the events on Kurskaya
stock exchange A young programmer at the company
of two girls of suspicious appearance
you were talking loudly about how he could
great guy, and how well he plays Crystal
Caves.                                    
                                          
   Stirlitz typed a large piece of software
we dug our finger into the roll of paper and
closely  looked looked around
the reality of a decaying Germany,
occasionally lingering glance at some
outstanding   details scurrying   between
tables of laboratory assistants.                     
                                          
   - What bastards these SysOps are, - unexpected
given for everyone said the young prog-
rammystic.  - I would put them all through
one and deleted them one by one.               
                                          
   The room  silence reigned.  All
looked at Stirlitz. Stirlitz spat out
piece of paper, stood up, and  overturned three
table, marched up to the plunder-
to the programmer.                      
                                          
   - “Custom pig,” he muttered.
and slapped him in the face.                    
 
   -  Простите, я  не   
совсем понимаю... -     
пролепетал оторопевший  
программист.            
                        
Штирлиц вышел из себя,  
и , схватив  принтер ,  
обрушил его  на голову  
незадачливому  пользо-  
вателю.  Тот  упал , и  
Штирлиц начал злобно пинать его ногами. - I, a Russian programmer   Isaev, no
I will allow  dirty user  dog
Corrupt the Russian SysOp!                
                                          
   Four SS men rushed to separate
fighting.  The cheerful Stirlitz from-
dragged away from the groaning programmer, and, what-
to calm them down, they offered to drink to Pas-
Kal, for Assembler.                       
                                          
   -Yes,” said Stirlitz, calming down a little.
repose.  He drank a mug of toner, redhead
The SS man readily poured a second one, Stir-
drank more, the programmer became incomprehensible to him -
interesting.                                  
                                          
   “Well, how can it be,” whispered one of
systems engineers to a sobbing programmer, - when
Stirlitz himself says this about SysOps,
and even in such expressions!  I would like you to
its place inMAGIC'threw off.- Stirlitz is a kind soul, sighed
second front-line soldier, - I remember, three days ago -
they beat a Japanese virus scientist's ass here, so
Everyone kicked, but Stirlitz didn’t.         
                                          
   - The kindest person, - confirmed the
a great systems engineer, and they brought out the programmer
to fresh air.                         
                                          
   Stirlitz, hugging the SS men, thundered
he sang "Basic Soldaten".                
                                          
   The beaten non-commissioned officer raised his head
from the salad, looked around the room with a dull look and
yelled enthusiastically:                       
                                          
   - Long live PL/I!                 
                                          
   The whole hall jumped up, throwing up their hands, the walls
trembled from the answering roar:              
                                          
   - Hurray!!!                               
                                          
   And Stirlitz was already asleep, he dreamed of the moni-
tori, Russian 486th and 586th, he dreamed
naked girls from GIF pictures, and he
spied on them from under the table.         
                                          
   He's sleeping now, but in exactly half an hour
he will wake up to continue his non-
easy work needed for the Motherland.         
                                          
                                          
              G L A B A 2.                
                                          
   In Muller's office there was a safe in which
Rom Muller kept files of all employees
Reich.  He often lovingly climbed into his
safe behind the next file to replenish
it, restore Lost Cluster's, just
read or print.  But the last thing
happened rarely, because Müller, like a true
collector, did not like parting with
files of their wards.  Safes with files
almost all Reich employees had blood
me Stirlitz, but such a vast collection
no one had any essays, not even self-
by Kaltenbrunner.  It wassmall and
an innocent hobby of the Gestapo chief. In his number
lectures were by Wirth, Kernighan and Ritchie, Klock-
sin and Mellish, Knut, Borman, Stirlitz and yes-
Kaltenbrunner himself.                     
                                          
 Obergruppenführer si-
 on the monitor and on-
 pressed the PgDn button.
  Scrolled across the screen 
 file Borman, it was
 one of the most voluminous
 files in its current
 fe.  Müller whistles-
 shaft  ARIA  Mephistophilia
 from Faust and by pressing
 F7, and your favorites
lines.                                   
                                          
   Parteigenosse Bormann was a small viru-
syst.  If Bormann failed to write
some virus, he considered it to have passed
day missing.  If someone succeeded
to spoil something, Borman fell asleep calmly,
with a kind, happy smile on her face. Liu-
Bormann's floppy disk, which was lying in
his office, was infected with all types
viruses, and therefore everyone had to
go to Borman only with taped dis-
kami. Muller, who had no stickers,
I suffered a lot from this.  One day he had
carelessness   bring  Bormann  Space
Quest and was maliciousinfected with Dir'om. Dis-
chum salmon had to be formatted.  Since then
he and Bormann became bitter enemies.    
                                          
   Bormann was a fan of placing buttons
ki on chairs, draw on the backs of officers
chalk word"Basic", pull in dark
corridors  complex  systems  ropes,
tripping over which the unfortunate victim
at best, fell or was doused with something
nerom,   at worst - got hit on the head with la-
grain   printer. With special love Bor-
mana used  water closets.  What
only he didn’t write programs on the doors and
walls, and sometimes   redrawn from GIF
obscene pictures.  Under one of these
He captioned the pictures “this is Eva Braun.” Fu-
rer was offended and instructed him, Borman,
find out who did it.  Two months is all
inThe Reich groveled   before Bormann, and
Stirlitz even came up with a version to limit
rid yourself of suspicions that he did it
Chinese  virusist.   In   in the end
Admiral Canaris was injured, who
carefully won Bormann's preference
new laboratory assistant. The laboratory assistants were second
Bormann's passion.  He fired me every now and then
some and hired others, changed laboratories
welts with Himmler, Schellenberg, pro-
forced to give Muller's laboratory assistant, but Mul-
ler refused.  Bormann was not loved in the Reich,
but they were afraid.  Who's happy to see
your name on the toilet wall?               
                                          
   Bormann was fat, bald and vindictive. A
Bormann himself was busy with business at that time.
With a finger stained with toner, he scribbled
on the toilet door there is an inscription: "STIRLITS - CKO-
TINA AND RUSSIAN SYSOP".  Satisfied
smacking his lips, Borman pulled the string and...
walked.  He carefully formatted the drives and
headed off with a sense of accomplishment
to your office. The day promised to be successful.
INBorman opened the safe in his office, which was locked
on seven secret locks and stuck his holo-
woo inside. Yesterday he hung a sign in the safe
PM in Russian:"To Russian SysOps
It’s forbidden to smear!” Someone in red
ROM corrected the errors and signed: "Borman
fool".  Bormann got it Russian-German
dictionary, translated and logically thought:
"Someone corrected the mistakes... that means someone
climbed into the safe... it's not me... that means
Russian SysOp... and plus to everything he personally
knows Bormann. Therefore. me too
I know."  Borman thought for a long time.  Via
half an hour later he decided to look for prints
fingers.  After another half hour, he found them.
Apparently, the Russian intelligence officer ate paper.  Ka-
the carcass  from the roll stood right there in the safe.
"You can feel the work of Stirlitz here.Inte-
pecho. What would Kaltenbrunner say?" Boron
man sighed.  Don't mess with Stirlitz
it was worth it, anyway he’ll come up with something anyway,
You will also find yourself to blame. They knew it
everything.  Borman sighed again and took outfrom
Pastor Schlag's safe file.  3and he is a pastor
I've been watching for a long time and with interest.  This man
hadan extensive female clientele. Pastor
ran after any women: old and young
long, beautiful and not very, system specialist -
and programmers and vice versa, and women
we reciprocated that Borman,
which women did not like, very surprising -
lo and even angry.                        
                                          
   "Why does one man need so many women?
I understand.  if they were.  first of all.
laboratory assistants. secondly. I have.  well...
Probably. he works on someone's BBS.  Sco-
rey  total.  this is not our BBS. Sledova-
specifically.  foreign. - Borman raised his pa-
thumbs up. - You need to feel it..."        
                                          
   And Borman, calling Eisman, gave the
order.  From   kicking the door
swung open, and a gloomy and
sleepy Stirlitz.                        
                                          
   - Borman!GiveAIDSTEST!                
                                          
   "Stirlitz has an old AIDSTEST, - I thought
Borman, holding out a box for floppy disks with
profile of the Fuhrer, which means he wrote a lot.
They write a lot when doomaut,   means he
a lot  doom.  Stirlitz just doesn’t
doomaet, that means he's up to something."    
                                          
   And Borman looked into honest eyes 
Stirlitz.                                 
                                          
   - How are you?                            
                                          
   - Bad.                               
                                          
   "I, as always, right!" - I was delighted
Borman.  - He’s definitely up to something! It is necessary
feel it."                           
                                          
   - Would you like some methyl alcohol?      
                                          
   - No, - Stirlitz shuddered. - Better
toner.                                   
                                          
   Borman pressed the button, and the laboratory entered
welt. Stirlitz had never seen her before.       
                                          
                                          
   - New?                           
                                          
   “Yes,” Borman boasted.             
                                          
   - “Nothing,” Stirlitz approved.         
                                          
   “I like it too,” said the flattered
ny Borman.                               
                                          
   - Bring the toner, dear.             
                                          
   - I obey, partygenosse.             
                                          
   The laboratory assistant brought  toner and began
wait for further orders.            
                                          
   -You can go, - Borman waved his hand.  
                                          
   Laboratory assistant,   disappointed   shaking
hips, came out. Stirlitz took his eyes off
doors and took a mug with toner.            
                                          
    “Sit down,” Borman suggested, setting up
laying a chair.                                 
                                          
   Stirlitz brushed away the
chair buttons and sat down.                       
                                          
   "I noticed," Borman thought venomously, "
You can't use Stirlitz on the buttons.  Feeling-
Moscow's hand is coming." Stirlitz's eyes turned green.             
                                          
   “Good toner,” he said.          
                                          
   "It's dark, you cat of a bitch. He wants to deceive.
No, brother Isaev, he attacked the wrong one. And not
Should I play a joke on him? What if he
very subtly hint what interests them -
Xia Peter Norton?                         
                                          
   - Stirlitz!  Yes, he's interested in you
Peter Norton! - Borman cried.          
                                          
   Stirlitz choked.  C  Norton he
met only once, and then at a reception
Me at the Fuhrer. Stirlitz had a high opinion of himself
opinions as about a system specialist, but this thought
never crossed his mind.        
                                          
   "Norton could become a valuable agent.
We need to ask the center." Stirlitz stood up and blew his nose into the curtain
ku.                                       
                                          
   "Will you bite or not?" - thought Borman.    
                                          
   Stirlitz looked out the window.              
                                          
   - What rims this pussy has!  - said
he verses, - Look, Borman.             
                                          
   Bormann took out a Zeiss bi-
nocle and went to Stirlitz. For a minute they say
Chali. 3and this time Stirlitz managed to think about it
Borman's words, and Borman guessed that
Stirlitz distracted him.                       
                                          
   "He's leading me by the nose," thought Borman and
deftly turned the conversation into a different direction.    
                                          
   - Listen, Stirlitz, you have such
extensive connections.  Could you get a ma-
a lazy virus with stealth protection? - I can.                                
                                          
   "This one can do everything," thought Borman.    
                                          
   Stirlitz often promised something to Bormann,
as well as everyone else, but never
Yes, I didn’t do anything.                       
                                          
   Stirlitz fired a couple more at Borman
ku floppy disks, mechanically shoved the one lying on
on the table, a streamer cassette under the arm and nap-
wanted to go out.                         
                                          
                                          
   Borman rushed to the computer and sharply
opened the top drive. About two
ten centimeters from the floor I will pull
The printer ribbon is missing. Stirlitz sharply re-
jumped over it, and, saying “Goodbye-
niya", disappeared behind the door.                  
                                          
                                          
   "Professional!" - Borman groaned. Yes, Stirlitz was a professional.  He doesn't
began to tear the cassette from the streamer in
display room, as he would have done on his
local English or Paraguayan SysOp,
but chose the most secluded place in the Reich.    
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
   Entering the water closet, Stirlitz discovered
fresh  inscription "STIRLITS - CATTLE AND
RUSSIAN SYSOP". Stirlitz diligently
crossed out the word "SYSOP"  and wrote the word
"PROGRAMMER". and at the bottom he wrote "BORMAN -
ALSO CATTLE."                            
                                          
   Here he looked at the cassette with the file
Pastor Schlag's crowbar.  In  his head began
a still unclear, but already plan is maturing.       
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
 G L A B A 3                
                                          
   When Iceman woke him up, he was already
nets of the working day. Stirlitz went out into the street,
took out a pack of floppy disks and sarcastically showed the clock
vom.  A company of SS men passed by with a steady step,
an armored personnel carrier drove by, dousing Stirlitz
splashes.                                 
                                          
                "Beasts, thought Stirlitz,
they've played enough   and are driving around.
You would be at   market, lice 
feed..."               
                          
When the word “feed” Shtir-
the face wanted paper.   
He put  a pack of  floppy disks
back to your pocket.  Spat
under my feet twice and decided
go to someone else's exhibition center.       
                                          
 Walking through evening Berlin, Stirlitz   
thought about various unpleasant things.  First of all
out of space on the   hard drive, and
I had to squeeze everything.  Secondly, inte-
I wonder what other commanders he can look at?
beam from Norton, and will the center allow
contact.  And finally, Stirlitz’s laboratory assistant
suddenly fell ill and  asked to go home to
to my husband. All three things should have been reported.
protect the center. And in contact with the centerStirlitz
I didn’t like to go out.                        
                                          
                                          
   Stirlitz’s thoughts were distracted by a group of mo-
young, dressed-up women who, loudly
giggling, smoking on the corner and looking into it
side.                                  
                                          
                                          
  "@#$#@#@$#$".  - thought Stirlitz.     
                                          
  "Stirlitz". - thought @#$#@#@$#$.      
                                          
                                          
   - Stirlitz!  Aren't you going to the CC? -
asked one of them, flirtatiously correcting
hairstyle                                 
                                          
   -Let's go, said the gallant Stirlitz and
took her hand.                         
                                          
   American  agent  #008,  whose
usually the most difficult cases were entrusted, was
rushed to Berlin to find out what
Russian SysOp has been doing this in Germany for so long
Stirlitz, and at the same time try to convert
beat him up. The agent was used to such things.
us.  Just the other day he recruited pa-
Kistani SysOp, who worked as a sec-
Retarem  Duce in Italy.   Stirlitz too
seemed like an easy prey to the agent. 3a
two days, agent #008 managed to track down Stir-
faces and collect on it so extensive
BackUp, that Mühl himself would be jealous of this
ler.                                      
                                          
 Agent #008 followed      
behind Stirlitz from the very      
Reichstag.   When      
Stirlitz entered with his       
дамой в ВЦ, агент слез       
с велосипеда и  прице-       
пил его замком к урне.       
Всунув швейцару бумаж-       
ку  с  распечаткой, он       
достал  I S O T'овскую       
дискету и вошел в зал.       
Выбрав  столик  около        
Штирлица , агент сел ,       
положил  ноги  на стол      
and snapped his fingers:      
                                          
   - Bartender! Toner with sand!              
                                          
   Two programmers   near the stage, where
throwing up her lovely legs high, tan-
They drank a cancan and looked at each other.             
                                          
   - In my opinion, this is  American SysOp,
whispered one. - Too systemic. Write it down
just in case its Point.               
                                          
   The second, more passionate about girls from
variety show than   some   American
SysOps, mechanically nodded and yelled:   
                                          
   - BIS!!! Stirlitz, hugging his girlfriend, held
a glass of toner in his hand and read to her enthusiastically
Kernighan and Ritchie in their translation. Sitting-
The gray-haired guy next to him  the system specialist tried obviously
invented stories about their similarities
niyah in the Exhibition Center to charm a young girl and
at times drowned out Stirlitz.  Stirlitz already
several times I looked dissatisfied   into it
side, but out of respect for gray hairs
I didn’t bother.                           
                                          
 Agent #008 took out   a lighter, made
three photographs and lit a cigarette.                
                                          
   - I’ll crawl out from under the table to the printer,
- the annoying one spoke in a hoarse drunken voice
General to everyone - and SysOps throughout the room. Discs
they're whistling around, and I'm wearing a cartridge, screaming
“Delete!”, but for me from the modem - peak - peak
- peak.                                    
                                          
   The loud laughter of tipsy SS men
the window blocked his words:- The old donkey completely lied!         
                                          
   The general looked around and realized that they were laughing
above him. He drew his saber.               
                                          
   - It's you. custom rat.  me. combat programmer...               
                                          
 - Gentlemen!   Calm down!  - cried
system engineer on the  stage. We are all defenders from
viruses of the Great  Reich, and system specialists and
programmers.                             
                                          
   Stirlitz, who pulled out a disco from his pocket
waters, could not calm down and poured out his anger
to the waiter:                             
                                          
   - Why kefir with flies?              
                                          
   - But you haven’t even tried it,
Mr. Standartenführer!                 
                                          
   - Be silent! - and Stirlitz hit the official -
that disk drive. He didn't like to turn on the dis-
leader just like that.                         
                                          
   The waiter flew over the old table
th programmer and fell on his knees
we.  The lady screamed like a Winchester
The first owner decided to calibrate it.  Programmer
jumped up again.                            
                                          
   - It's you. custom rat. me. combat programmer...               
                                          
   And in a rage he grabbed the waiter and also
hit.  The waiter drove his head into the stomach
SS man. He bent over and yelled: 
                                          
   - They're beating our people!                          
                                          
   His comrades rushed at the programmer,
system specialists came to the defense, and it started
ordinaryformatting                   
                                          
   As always, Stirlitz had nothing to do with it. He
hid  disk drive,  took out printer  c
dedicatory inscription "To the Standartenführer CC
To von Stirlitz from his beloved Fuhrer."  Zaorav
“They’re beating our people,” Stirlitz began waving the print
rum on the chandeliers.  Girls from a variety show with visas
we ran away.  The systems engineer was pulled from
scenes and began to trample underfoot. His squeal
was even more  heartbreaking than
programmer lady.   I'm scared to death
gunny   the orchestra started playing  suddenly in Hero
Quest.  The programmer waved  a saber and
shouted:                                   
   
                            
                            
                            
                            
  - Это вы. пользователь-   
ские крысы. меня. боевого   
программиста...             
                            
                            
                            
                                          
                                          
   Когда  у Штирлица сломался  принтер, ни
одна  люстра уже не светила. Штирлиц  зак-
ричал:                                    
                                          
   - Ну-ка все нажали Escape! -  и бросил-
ся  разнимать  спорщиков.There was a ringing sound
a broken  monitor and a muffled scream,
as if   someone was hit on the head with a system
dark block.                            
                                          
   - Lozinsky has arrived! - there was a scream.  
                                          
   Lozinsky, who arrived, began by saying that
released on AIDSTEST'on top of the heads
current ones. The raging crowd gradually calmed down
repented.  Those who did not calm down were calmed down -
repented. Turned on the   light. Then he entered himself
Lozinsky.                                
                                          
   - Calm down!  Everyone stay on their own
places!                                   
                                          
   And they took everyone away.  They carried out the corpses. Among
Agent #008 was also killed. He serves
accidentally hit in the head by the system unit
from IBM WorkStations.This is how the famous
SysOp.                                    
                                          
   All those arrested were loaded into cars
and taken to different BBS Police. Stirlitz
and the combat programmer got into the same machine -
well. He didn’t let up:                      
                                          
   - It's you, custom rats, me-
nya, combat programmer...             
                                          
   “Give him a CPU,” he said indifferently
Stirlitz.                                  
                                          
   Lozinsky with pleasure  performed
request.  The programmer fell silent in amazement.
Soon they arrived at the Police BBS.  Shtirli-
Tsa was put behindBK-shka.  Walking a bit from
corner to corner, he began to knock on the wall
the inscription "STIRLITS WAS HERE" , but it was interrupted
valinon-maskable interrupt.           
                                          
   - Arrested Stirlitz, on his way out.      
                                          
   3 and the flabby Lozinsky sat at the table and
drank paste.                             
                                          
   - Last name?                             
                                          
   - Stirlitz.                             
                                          
   - Maybe you are Stirlitz, or maybe not
Stirlitz.  Who knows you?  Maybe you -
Russian SysOp?                            
                                          
   Stirlitz came closer and sat down.           
                                          
   - Listen, Lozinsky, don’t appear, I’m in
Critical Zone terrible.                    
                                          
   The one who did not expectsuch impudence
opened his mouth. And Stirlitz mockingly
nom continued:                            
                                          
   - Now provide me with toner, and
then call my friend Mueller, and otherwise...
what can I do and your front panel is disgusting
stuff...                                 
                                          
   Stirlitz would have been exiled for a long time, poly-
he did not like tion since childhood, but Lozinsky
suddenly slammed his fist on the table, so that
a cup of molten rubber jumped
noah, and yelled:                            
                                          
   - Be silent!!!                           
                                          
   “Don’t yell,” Stirlitz asked.          
                                          
   - Stand up when talking to an official
cerom!                                    
                                          
   Stirlitz was calm like Turbo Prologue.  
                                          
- J. Standartenführer CC Von Stirlitz. -
he said syllable by syllable, “I don’t like it.” when
All sorts of scoundrels are screaming in my presence.
I require toner and Muller.  otherwise I declare
Virus for a period of 200 ticks.  Really
your bad processor is not able to
vat.  that I need to beat my lover
to my childhood friend Muller. and I. finally.
I won't have the pleasure of seeing you anymore
your vile monitor?                      
                                          
   Having wrapped up such a brilliant phrase, Stir-
the faces rejoiced to himself and smiled proudly -
Xia. Lozinsky turned green with anger.        
                                          
   - Be silent!!!                           
                                          
   Stirlitz  Lozinsky  stopped completely
like it, he was going to give it to the impudent
and gave it to the policeman in the mouth. Escorts bro-
tried to visit Stirlitz, but were too late. Lozinsky
hit the portrait of Fi-
Lippa Kanna in full growth, the portrait fell. 
                                          
   Stirlitz, throwing away  escorts, angrily
shouted:                                 
                                          
 - Insult the great comrade Kanna(o)!
                                          
Yes, now I won’t leave here myself without accruing
Tiv your cop muzzles!                   
                                          
   C great  work  raging
Stirlitz was put back  into the cell.
Stirlitz raged for a long time, hitting
door, swore in an unknown language,
Tom calmed down a little.                   
                                          
                                          
Muller arrived soon and it was the first
once since '39, when Stirlitz was happy
see him.  The retelling of what happened took Stirlitz
for more than an hour, whole sections of the story consisted
purely from ##@!$%? , and in some places
Stirlitz used expressions that
which Müller could not understand or comprehend. Himself
Muller guessed that Stirlitz was swearing
in Russian #$####%@? , but out loud your own
disgusting  not   expressed, for fear of accident
get hurt.  Stirlitz knew how to turn any
the facts were in his favor and Mueller knew it.    
                                          
Stirlitz's voice  ringed from a fake
indignation.                              
                                          
   "Stirlitz," Muller smiled, "so much
has been living in Germany for years, but still hasn’t
I learned to write normally in Pascal.  And from-
where did he get that terrible basic accumulator?
cent?  No, as long as Stirlitz   is sober, with him
It's just disgusting to talk.  That's when
drinks, yes, he speaks like a native
calist. Perhaps we should have a drink."            
- By the way, Stirlitz...                   
                                          
   They looked at each other.                     
                                          
   - What a question!                       
                                          
   Childhood friends understood each other with
semi-teak. Muller took Stirlitz by the arm,
and they headed to the nearest computer center.         
                                          
                                          
               G L A B A 4                
                                          
   It's already the third hour in Hitler's bunker
elk meeting.  In front of a large monitor
sat  highest   officers of the Reich.  Under
sitting with a portrait of the great Fuhrer, the great
cue Fuhrer, sad and thoughtful. on him
no one  was paying attention. Discussed
two questions: why did they burn out on Kurskaya
stock exchange, andhow to ask to see Stirlitz for
birthday.                            
                                          
   - “There are few brokers,” said Himmler.   
                                          
   "There are a lot of idiots at headquarters," I thought 
omniscient Muller.                        
                                          
   - Few computers...                  
                                          
   General von  Schwarzkopfman stood up,
coughed, blew his nose   into a green nose
handkerchief and wheezed:                       
                                          
   - Gentlemen! At the Kursk Exchange we pro-
reli not because there was little brokerage
ditch and   computers that we have, glory
God, that's enough,  but because of the impudence of the Russians
SysOps. To the commander of the German brokers -
mi at the Kursk Exchange to Field Marshal GeneralVon Kluge they  placed, I apologize, on
seat "Microshu"!...                     
                                          
 Everyone perked up.                         
                                          
   - Yes, yes, gentlemen!  Russian "Mikrosha"!
As a result, the commander fell from his chair.
la and was injured. And without a wise hand-
leadership of German brokers, - the general wiped
tear - they didn’t know what to sell.       
                                          
   Borman  smiled disgustingly. This is according to him
By order of Von Kluge was planted with Mikrosha.
The joke was a success.                            
                                          
   -Yes, said Hitler.                
                                          
                                          
   Silence reigned.                     
                                          
   "Why me not a programmer?" - bitter
thought the Fuhrer.  After a few seconds the mind-
it accidentally occurred to Mr. Goebbels
thought.                                    
                                          
 - We must destroy the SysOps, and we will
Let's conquer Russia.                             
                                          
   - Isn't it easier to destroy "Mikroshi"? -
Himmler suggested.                        
                                          
   -Yes, said Hitler.                
                                          
   Everyone fell silent again.                   
                                          
   "Well   why am I not a programmer?" -
the great Fuhrer suffered.                    
                                          
   - It is necessary   to withdraw all "Microshas" from Russia-
these - Goering said thoughtfully.     
                                          
   - And then in Russia the technical
some balance,” Himmler picked up, “and
SysOps will go crazy.                     
                                          
   - Brilliant! - the sycophant admired
Schellenberg.                               
                                          
   - And then we will show the Russians another one
Kursk Exchange and another one Scotts Valley.  
                                          
   - Brilliant! - Schellenberg yelled.        
                                          
   - Yes.                                 
                                          
   Hitler stood up, walked around the table, stood at
Bormann's back and patted his sweaty
bald.                                   
                                          
   "Lord! Well why don’t I program
mist? Why not him?  not Goebbels. namely
Am I?"And the Fuhrer went to Norton. Everyone spent
his sympathetic glances.            
                                          
   The door closed behind Hitler. Conversation
resumed.                             
                                          
 - I suggest encoding the word operation
“Dubels,” Goebbels suggested.     
                                          
   “I’m for it,” said Muller, who was
anyway.                                
                                          
   - Schellenberg,  - Himmler asked, -
get it.                               
                                          
   Schellenberg pulled out a bottle from his bosom
Armenian toner and  poured into glasses.
There was enough for everyone, and what was left was Shel-
Lenberg poured it into his mouth.                 
                                          
   - I suggest you have a drink  for the operation "Du-
bels"!                                   
                                          
   The door opened with a creak, and in
Stirlitz rushed in.  Everyone immediately settled down.
Stirlitz heard only a few of the last
them words.                                 
                                          
 “They’re hiding,” he thought and decided to do
pretend that he just came in like that. Stir-
persons went to the safe, took out the master keys and
deathly silence opened it.  He was digging
for about five minutes, but didn’t find anything new.    
                                          
   "Idlers," thought Stirlitz and
slammed the door noisily.                   
                                          
   - Comrade Stirlitz, - a sharp voice was heard
Goering's roaring voice, who recently
the first cluster of the report to the Fuhrer disappeared, and
the second one turned out to be infected with SVC-4644, when
take the files from the safe, return the
please don't infect anyone.         
                                          
   - Needed  I need your files, - offended
Stirlitz, - I have enough of my own.          
                                          
   He walked up to the table and took it from Goebbels
a glass of toner and proclaimed:              
                                          
 - 3a of my favorite Fuhrer!            
                                          
   Everyone drank with dissatisfied faces. Ob-
the divided Goebbels sniffed resentfully,
poured a bottle of cleaning fluid and took a sip
straight from the bottle.                        
                                          
   - Heil! - and Stirlitz left.            
                                          
   Goebbels shuddered from schnapps and he
I thought: “Yak garna water!”             
                                          
   - Where did we stop? - asked
he, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform.          
                                          
   - On Operation Dubels, - said Shel-
Lenberg. The door suddenly opened again
stood up, and a satisfied physical
Stirlitz's onomy.                          
                                          
   - Yes,  gentlemen, when I set up, I forgot
register.                       
                                          
   - Hello,  hello, said
polite Muller.  Stirlitz closed again
door and left.  He listens at the door
considered it beneath his dignity.          
                                          
   Himmler stood up, walked around the table and looked out
out the door.  After making sure that Stirlitz had left,
he looked around at his comrades and, squinting,
shisha, asked:                            
                                          
   - By the way, gentlemen, about Stirlitz: how
go to his place for his birthday?           
                                          
   “I’m offering it for free,” Geb said.
Bels, - at the same time, it’s not a good idea to buy a gift
up to Himmler   took  from   a crystal vase
a large red floppy disk that came off with a crunch
half the strength, and, chewing, said:             
                                          
                                          
   - I have a small one lying around in my warehouse
decommissioned SX man   for ten-twelve
tsat.  We'll ride it  and then give it as a gift
Stirlitz. Throw it away anyway.          
                                          
   Everyone reached for floppy disks.           
                                          
   - How about back? - Goering argued.        
                                          
   - They will take us back.                   
                                          
   They gossiped a little more. Borman
boasted of the new lab assistant, conversation
started talking about women,  spread to French
Tsuz pornography,  and then everyone
there were things to do.                        
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
               G L A B A 5                
                                          
   Having his hands in his pockets, Stirlitz walked along
corridor.  His mood was unusual
cheerful, which rarely happened to him. Center
finally   responded to his requests,
got a new clean hard drive and soon both
I wanted to send a new radio operator.              
                                          
   From behind the door with the inscription "GESTAPO"
there were plaintive squeaking sounds, as if for
this door to someone  formatted in
nose."Scary office, - thought Stirlitz,
- people are constantly beating someone here."          
                                          
   The door opened with a modem creak, and
Stirlitz  saw his good friend
Aisman. Stirlitz   not without pleasure
I remembered how last week the defeat
or a CC whose owner turned out to be a Jew.   
                                          
   - Ah, Stirlitz!   - single eye
Iceman happily  sparkled, - you are for me
just what is needed.  I have a question. Language
programming from six letters starting with "we".
A?                                        
   - I don’t know. Mumu, probably.              
                                          
   - Suitable.                            
                                          
   Isman entered "Mumu".                  
                                          
   - Who are we hitting? - asked Stirlitz, biting
rivaya.                                    
                                          
   Iceman reached for the floppy disks.         
                                          
   - There is one here. A certain Pastor Schlag.    
                                          
   They entered the office.  Two dense hefty ones
the Gestapo man was methodically beaten by the plump
th man in cassock.  On a person's face
a submissive, playful expression froze.    
                                          
   - What are you accused of? cattle? - yelled
Gestapo man, - why were you taken? Where is your
file? - Here, -  said Eisman, - Borman gave
the order was to touch it, but the matter was lost. A
This bastard doesn’t admit what he’s guilty of.     
                                          
   - What are you accused of?  - in unison we tear up -
Gestapo men were pouring in.                        
                                          
   The pastor was silent.  Stirlitz  remembered
this pastor's business, which he once
I saw it somewhere.                             
                                          
   -Give it to me, Iceman, he asked
he.                                       
                                          
   - Why do you need this fat pig?       
                                          
   - Looks like Bormann.                    
                                          
   Iceman laughed. The Gestapo delivered
Schlaga to Stirlitz's office. The pastor stood by
standing at attention.  Stirlitz sat down on the edge
folding beds.                              
                                          
   - Sit down.                            
                                          
   - Thank you, I'll wait.                   
                                          
   - Sit down, damn you.           
                                          
   Pastor Schlag wearily sank onto the taboo
retku.                                    
                                          
   - Do you want toner? - Stirlitz asked and
poured him a glass of cold toner.        
                                          
   They talked for about half an hour.  Stirlitz
I liked the pastor.  Schlag, without a doubt
was smart, and his thoughts about women
Stirlitz was delighted.               
                                          
   - “All this is good,” said Stirlitz, and
after all, pastor, who do you work for?   
                                          
   - MisterStandartenführer! I'm ready
work for anyone, and, honestly,
Well, I'm not guilty of anything.                
                                          
   - Great, - said Stirlitz, - you
will work for me.                  
                                          
   He  pressed  Alt-F7  and found the file
pastor.arj .                              
                                          
   - I took your file from the Gestapo. Pro-
read!                                  
                                          
   The pastor pressed F3.  Having reached the place,
where he was accused of working for someone else
vedka, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.      
                                          
   - And why did they think that I was on someone
working? After all, this is nonsense!             
                                          
   - Now you work for me, - on-
Stirlitz remembered.                           
                                          
   - Yes, yes, of course.                     
                                          
   - Pastor, why do you need so many wives?
schin?                                      
                                          
   - These are my   parishioners, - he lowered his eyes
Pastor Schlag, or rather, the parishioners.        
                                          
   - How old are you?                   
                                          
   - In winter it will be fifty-two.           
                                          
   - Why aren't you getting married yet?  
                                          
   Pastor Schlag blushed embarrassedly.        
 - I'm still too young to think about women
nakh.                                      
   Stirlitz   turned the printer in his hand and
printed a pass.                          
                                          
   - You are free. When you need me, I
I'll find you.  If anyone bothers you,
refer to me, I give them a Face from the table,
they know me.                           
                                          
   The pastor thanked Stirlitz for a long time and did not
still believing that  he is finally free,
left.                                     
                                          
   Stirlitz   stretched, yawned and lay down on
folding bed  A colossus was ripening in his head.
greasy plan.  He dozed off. Suddenly in the cab-
no, Iceman burst in.                      
                                          
   - Did you let him go?                
                                          
   - Who? - Stirlitz asked sleepily.                                           
   - This stinking pastor...            
                                          
   “It split,” said the magnificent
Stirlitz - and even agreed to become mine
agent.                                  
                                          
                                          
   Isman looked respectfully at Stir-
face and adjusted the black patch over his eye. 
                                          
                                          
   - Yes, Stirlitz, however, you know how to work
thief with people.                            
                                          
                                          
   They drank toner,  Isman told
a couple of new boorish Bormann viruses and assistance
advised  to beware of inserting disks into
the second computer from the door. So they asked
until the end of the working day.