┌I apologize in advance for the obscene statements,┐
├but for some reason this version of the story differs from the original.┤
└──────────────────────────── ────────────────────────────┘
Victor Pelevin.
P R I N C G O S P L A N A
A small figure is running down the corridor. She is drawn with
with great love, even somewhat sentimental. If you press
the "Up" key, it will jump up, bend, hang on
in the air for a second and will try to catch something above his
head. If you press "Down", she will sit down and try
pick something up from the ground under your feet. If you press "Right", it
will run to the right. If you press "Left" - to the left. In general, she
can be controlled using different keys, but these four are
basic.
The passage along which the figure is running changes. More
partly it is something like a stone adit, but sometimes it
becomes an amazingly beautiful gallery with a strip
oriental ornament on the wall and high narrow windows. On
torches are burning on the walls, and in the dead-end corridors and on shaky
on the walkways above the deep stone mines there are enemies with
naked swords - the figure can fight with them if
press the "Shift" key. If you press some keys
simultaneously with others, the figure can jump and
pull yourself up, hang, swing, on the edge, and maybe even with
run-up jump over stoneswells from the bottom of which
sharp thorns stick out. The game has many levels, from the lower ones you can
move up, and from higher ones fall down - at the same time
the corridors change, the traps change, they look different
jugs from which the figure drinks to restore his
vitality, but everything remains the same - the figure runs
among stone slabs, torches, skulls on the floor and drawings on
walls. The goal of the game is to rise to the last level, where
the princess is waiting, but for this you need to devote a lot of time to the game
a lot of time. In fact, to achieve in the game
success, you have to forget that you press buttons and become this
figure herself - only then will she have a degree
agility required to fence, to leap
through the cutting machines clicking in the narrow stone corridors
in half, jump over holes in the floor and run along the falling
down to slabs, each of which is capable of supporting the weight of the body
only for a second, although there is no body, much less weight
there is no figure, just as there is no figure, if you think about it, and those who break down
slabs, no matter how convincing the sounds they make when
falling knock.
The prince ran along the stone cornice; I had to make it in time
crawl under the iron grate before it goes down,
because there was a narrow-necked jug behind her, and she had almost no strength
was: there were two wells with spikes left behind, and a jump from
second tieron the floor strewn with stone fragments too
cost a lot. Sasha pressed “Right” and immediately followed by “Down”,
and the prince somehow miraculously crawled under the bars, descended
already almost half. The picture on the screen has changed, but
instead of a jug on the bridge in front stood a fat warrior in
turban and looked hypnotically at Sasha.
- Lapin! - a disgustingly familiar voice came from behind, and
Sasha felt a lump in the pit of his stomach, although there was absolutely no
there was no objective reason for fear.
- Yes, Boris Grigorievich?
- Come and see me.
The office of Boris Grigorievich is actually nothing
was not an office, but was simply part of the room, fenced off
several low cabinets, and when Boris Grigorievich
walked around his territory, was above the surface of the cabinets
the back of his bald head is visible, which is why Sasha sometimes thought that
he squats near the billiards and watches
movement of the only remaining ball, partially hidden
board. After lunch, Boris Grigorievich usually found himself in
pocket, and in the morning, during golden time, mostly bounced
from the sides, and the role of the cue was played by the telephone, the calls of which
forced an ivory-colored hemisphere over the littered
move the paper surface of the cabinet for a while
faster.
Sasha hated Boris Grigorievich for that special long time
and calm hatred, which is familiar onlyliving with
cruel owner of Siamese cats and those who read Orwell
Soviet engineers. Sasha read all of Orwell at the institute,
back when it was impossible, and since then every day I have found a lot
reasons to shake your head with a wry smile. Here we go
now, approaching the passage between two cabinets, he crookedly
smiled at the upcoming conversation.
Boris Grigorievich stood at the window and, for a long time, froze in
each of the intermediate positions, practiced the "flight" strike
swallows", and not with a bamboo stick, as quite recently,
when he was just beginning to master the Budokan, and now
samurai sword. Today he was wearing "hunting clothes"
made of green satin, under which one could see a wrinkled kimono of
Shinobu patterned fabric. When Sasha entered, he carefully
put the sword on the windowsill, sat down on the mat and pointed at
neighboring one. Sasha, with difficulty tucking his legs under him, sat down and
placed his gaze on a Honda poster with
motorcyclist in high leather boots, second year
making a turn on the closet wall to the right of Boris’s mat
Grigorievich. Boris Grigorievich put his palm on
the processor unit of his “Eitishka” is the same as Sasha’s,
only with a screw of eighty megabytes, - and closed his eyes,
thinking about how to construct a conversation.
-Have you read the latest Arguments? - he asked after a minute.
“No,” answered Sasha, “I don’t.”I'm writing it out.
“In vain,” said Boris Grigorievich, picking up from the floor
rolling up sheets of paper and shaking them in the air is an excellent
newspaper. I don’t understand what the communists are hoping for?
Fifty million people were ruined, and now something else
mutter. Still, it’s clear to everyone.
“Yeah,” said Sasha.
“Or,” said Boris Grigorievich, “in America there are about
thousands of women are pregnant by aliens. We have those too
full, but the KGB is hiding them somewhere.
"What does he want?" - Sasha thought sadly.
Boris Grigorievich thought about it.
“You’re a strange guy, Sanya,” he finally said. - Look
Biryuk, you’re not friends with anyone from the department. Cause you know
people around, not furniture. And you even scared Lucy yesterday. She
Today he says to me: “You know, Boris Grigorich, whatever you want, but
I'm scared to ride in the elevator alone with him."
“I’ve never ridden in an elevator with her,” said Sasha.
“That’s why he’s afraid,” said Boris Grigorievich. - And you
go, grab her by the pussy, laugh. You are Dale Carnegie
read?
- Why did I scare her? - Sasha asked, wondering who Lucy was.
“It’s not about Lucy,” Boris waved his hand, irritated.
Grigorievich. - You have to be human, understand? Okay, this one
We will continue the conversation, but now I need you on business.
Do you know Abrams well?
- Nothing.
- How does the tower turn there?
- First press “C”, and then the cursor keys.Vertical ones can raise the gun.
- Exactly? Let's take a look.
Sasha went to the computer; Boris Grigorievich, something
whispering and hovering his fingers over the keyboard for a long time, he called
game.
“Here,” said Sasha, pointing.
- Exactly. A century would never have guessed it.
Boris Grigorievich picked up the phone and began
dial up the number, and when the line responds, all the best
rose from his soul and settled on his face.
“Boris Emelyanich,” he said affectionately, “they found it.” Click
tse, and then with arrows... Yes... Yes... Back also through
tse... What are you saying, a-ha-ha-ha...
Boris Grigorievich turned to Sasha, pursed his lips pleadingly and
Not at all offended, he moved his fingers in the direction of the exit.
Sasha got up and left.
- A-ha-ha... On a sheet? Populos? I didn't even hear it. Let's do it.
Let's do it. Let's do it. Hugs...
Sasha went to smoke on the dark staircase, to the window, from
of which a high-rise building and some
shabby-beautiful terraces below. There was a place by the window sill
special for him. After lighting a cigarette, he usually looked at
high-rise building - the star on its spire was slightly visible
from the side, and because of the wreaths framing it, it seemed double-headed
eagle; looking at her, Sasha often imagined another
version of Russian history, or rather its other trajectory,
ending with the same point - the construction of the same
high-rise building,only with a different emblem on the top. But
Now the sky was somehow especially vile and it seemed even
grayer than a high-rise building.
On the landing one flight below, two people in identical
overalls made of fine English wool; both of them
wide breast pocket stuck out along the nickel silver
wrench. Sasha listened to their conversation and realized
that both of them are from the game "Pipes", or, in Russian, "Trumpets". Sasha
I saw it, and even went to install it on the hard drive
some deputy minister, but he himself didn’t like her
complete lack of romance, superficial pathos and
especially because in the left corner there was a nasty-looking drawing
a plumber who started laughing when he
there was a burst of pipes on the screen. And these two, judging by the conversation,
were seriously interested in it.
“They don’t load under the old contracts anymore,” the first one complained.
overalls - they want currency.
“And you go back to the beginning of the stage,” answered the second, “or
In general, boot up again.
- I’ve already tried it. Egor even went on a business trip to the plant,
I tried to get to the director three times until I froze.
- If it freezes, you need to press “Control - Break”. Or
"Reset". You know what Evgraf Emelyanich says - seven troubles,
one "Reset".
To be continued.
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