LITMIR.BIZ

      For a couple of minutes, they walked silently. Finally, a stranger asked loudly and clearly:

      «Do you like these flowers?»

      Mansour did not expect such a question and to his surprise, answered honestly:

      «No, I don’t like it! I love red roses».

      «It’s good», abruptly the woman cast the flowers around the corner of the neighboring building on the ground.

      Behind the building chirred cyber cleaners.

      «Are you a member of the reconstruction club?» Mansour asked, having acquired the ability to think logically again.

      «Which club?» the stranger asked. Then she pondered turned to Mansur and said: «Anyhow, who cares?»

      She took Mansour by the hand and, looking into his eyes, said:

      «Let’s walk! In our time, people have completely forgotten what it feels like…»

      «Sure thing!» Mansour happily agreed. «We are just near a pond. So you don’t know anything about the reconstruction club. We live in the past. At least, a couple of weeks a year, we try to live as if we are the people who lived in the twentieth century. An obsolete era that was full of romance… Imagine – there were no fly-mobiles and Artificial Intelligence… Here, on the lower level, there is almost no this ubiquitous CCTV – quite like in those days.

      It was, but fifty years ago and many old cameras were dismantled because of inadequacy. Throughout the entire lower level, two or three chambers remain – it is enough to maintain order. While in alleys – generally like in the Stone Age, no supervision! Hmmm… But I see you are not interested…»

      «No, no, go on!» the woman exclaimed. «Say anything, just speak! I feel the need to listen to you right now».

      «Here», the pleased Mansour pointed to the left. «I am sorry, I still didn’t introduce myself. Mansour Bulgakov, level indigo».

      «Margaret Kennedy», she responded grumpily and, having rolled up the sleeve, showed him a bracelet on the wrist. «White-gold, as you can see».

      «Wow, respect!» Mansour stumbled, then restoring balance, gave Margaret a short bow.

      «Screw it!» the woman threw a bracelet off her hand into the alley between the houses.

      Mansour rushed after the bracelet – and managed to pick it up earlier than the cyber cleaner. He couldn’t let such a valuable thing to go to waste. Sure, now, Margaret was angry, but by morning, she’d definitely come to her senses and remember that some Joe Blow dared not to pick up her identifier.

      Right now, though, he had to make up to her for picking up the bracelet. God Dimmit, why is it always so hard with women? Although, how would he know what really works with them?

      «I’m certainly, very sorry, but let me ask you», he had to switch the topic showing her the direction, «Here – to the right, to the pond». Mansour mumbled, feeling that in her eyes he looked like a moron.

      However, she didn’t make any fuss and turned into the side street following his lead. Margaret clearly wanted to see the pond.

      «Let me ask you, are you a scientist? Rather… How did you manage to get a white-gold bracelet?» Mansur finished his question.

      «I cheated», Margaret looked annoyed. «Remember, seven years ago there was an experiment with awards of extreme athletes? I just got into this thing. Always been interested in parachute sports, and eventually acquired the white-gold level. I never even thought about the result – I simply like flying. Jump off the rock into the abyss and lose yourself for a few moments. If I knew that with this bracelet, people would be asking me every day: „Oh, so you are a scientist!“ then I wouldn’t jump at all! I would be happy to have a level like yours».

      «Understa-a-a-and», Mansour stretched this word pondering. «No, you’re all right! Your white-gold bracelet is well deserved. I’ve never dared to parachute or dive in my life, but I’m great at quests and creative thinking».

      Margaret stopped and looked up.

      «Here it feels surprisingly harmoniously somehow», she said.

      «Right», Mansour nodded. «These ponds are a historical monument, and above them, there is a piece of real sky that is kept. Being in this alley feels magic, I always liked it. Here in this building», Mansour pointed to the wall of the building to the left of them. «I think, on the one hundred seventh level – the exact holographic reconstruction of the ponds, the way they were in the twentieth century. It has nothing to do with what they are right now. But you know I like a real pond for some reason».

      They stood for a minute trying to see a narrow strip of sky between the walls of two huge buildings going hundreds of floors up.

      «I want to see the ponds», Margaret said.

      «Let’s go», Mansour carefully took her hand and led her further down the side street. «You know, I have a somewhat unusual hobby. Perhaps, if I show my work to the Central Artificial Intelligence bureau I might get the white-and-gold bracelet, too. Maybe. I don’t know; because I don’t want to show it to anyone. But feel like I want to tell you about it».

      «This is your secret, and you want to entrust it for me?» Margaret was surprised. «Please don’t do it! Although… wait… Go ahead! Tell me! I might then just have the reason today not to inject myself with a lethal dose of poison».

      «Poison?» Mansour even jumped from surprise. «Why would you want to poison yourself? We live in a perfect world, and you have a white and gold level! That’s like the ultimate. Most people can only dream about it. I can’t even imagine what else one can dream about?»

      «That is it, exactly – nothing to dream about!» Margaret stopped and looked closely into his eyes. Her eyes were thunderous. «You can’t even imagine how disgusting it is when there is nothing more to strive for, every day looks like yesterday, and tomorrow will be the same as today! I can no longer parachute after I had a fracture, and I have this white-gold level for life as injury compensation! So, I drive around different cities and streets like this one. Went all over the world. This city was the last one on my list. Everywhere – everything is the same. Here, at least, you and your secret. So what is it?»

      «I wrote a book», Mansour shrugged.

      «A book? Is that it?» Margaret resented. «…with the help of programs-editors any fool can do that».

      «No, I wrote it without programs», Mansour hastily explained. «And in general, without gadgets».

      «How’s that?» Margaret asked doubtable inquisitiveness.

      «We’ve already come to the pond», Mansour said. «Let’s sit down. There are benches, and you can even see the sky from here. By the way, at this very crossing once there used to be a cafe named after you – «Margaret».

      «This

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