Immigrant

one.

The day was unsuccessful. It began with the fact that I woke up in new details. That is, in the old ones, of course, but those that were not mine now. The red curly arrow in the corner of the interface blinked, indicating a completed movement.



"Damn you!"



Becoming a settler for the second time in a year is a bit much, of course. Unlucky.



However, there was nothing to do: it was time to reel fishing rods. It was still not enough for the owner of the apartment to show up - they could be fined for being in a strange room in excess of the established limit. However, I had legal half an hour.



I jumped out of bed, now a stranger to me, and pulled on my clothes. Just in case, I pulled the refrigerator by the handle. Of course, he did not open. The expected inscription appeared on the board: "Only with the permission of the owner."



Yes, yes, I know, now I am not the owner. Well, to hell with you, I didn’t really want to! I’ll have breakfast at home. I hope the former owner of my new home will be so accommodating that he will not leave the refrigerator empty. Presses when moving came across, but now petty behavior is not in fashion, at least among decent people. I would know what would happen tonight, left breakfast on the table. But the second time in a year - who could have imagined ?! Now you have to endure home. You can have breakfast along the way, of course.



In frustration from an unplanned move, I did not even begin to study new details, I only set the jeepiesque path to a new home. I wonder how far this is?



“Go out the door, please.”



Yes, I know that at the door, I know!



Before finally leaving the house, he patted his pockets: it was strictly forbidden to take other people's things for memory. No, nothing alien in the pockets. One bank card in the shirt pocket, but she’s okay. Her settings changed during the move, almost simultaneously. Banking technology, however!



I sighed and shut the door of the apartment that had served me for the past six months.



“Call the elevator and wait for it to arrive,” the prompter flashed.



A neighbor came out of the opened elevator from the apartment opposite. She is forever preoccupied with something of her own. I have developed a rather friendly relationship with this neighbor. At least we greeted, and even smiled at each other a couple of times. Of course, this time she did not recognize me. The neighbor’s visual was set for me as before, but now I had a different identifier. In fact, I became a different person, who had nothing to do with that former me. My visual card was set up in the same way - I would never have guessed what kind of woman I met if she hadn’t unlocked the neighboring apartment with a key.



The clerk was silent as if he had been killed: one should not greet a former acquaintance. She, apparently, guessed everything and also did not say hello.



I went into the elevator, went down to the first floor and went out into the yard. You should forget about the car - it, like the apartment, belonged to the rightful owner. The lot of immigrants is public transport, you should put up with this.



Jeepiesca blinked, pointing the way to the bus stop. Not to the subway, I said with surprise. So my new apartment is nearby. The first encouraging news from the beginning of the day is if, of course, the bus route is not cross-cutting through the whole city.



"Bus stop. Wait for bus number 252, ”the prompter said.



I leaned against the post and began to wait for the indicated bus. At this time, I was wondering what new details the changeable destiny had for me: an apartment, work, relatives, just acquaintances. The hardest thing with relatives, of course. I recall how in childhood I began to suspect that my mother had been replaced. She answered a few questions inadvertently, and a feeling arose: in front of me was a stranger. He made a scandal for his father. My parents had to reassure me, reconfigure the visual, explain: from time to time, people's bodies exchange souls. But since the soul is more important than the body, everything is fine, dear. Mom’s body is different, but the soul is the same, loving. Here’s mom’s soul identifier, see: 98634HD756BEW. The one that has always been.



In those days, I was very young. I really had to realize what RPD is a random movement of souls, at the time of my first movement. Then, when I found myself in a new family, it finally dawned on me ...



Finish nostalgic memories failed. I didn’t even hear the cry of a hint; I just saw out of the corner of my eye a car bumper flying towards me. Reflexively leaned to the side, but the car already crashed into the pole I just stood at. Something hard and dumb drove into my side - it didn't seem to hurt, but I instantly disconnected.

2.

Having regained consciousness, he opened his eyes and saw a white ceiling. Gradually, it began to reach me where I was. In the hospital, of course.



I squinted down and tried to move my limbs. Glory to those Lord, they acted. However, my rib cage was bandaged with bandages and ached deafly, I did not feel the right side at all. I tried to get up on the bed. The body cut through with a strong, at the same time muffled - apparently, from medicine - pain. But I was alive. Therefore, everything worked out and you can relax.



The idea that the worst was over was pleasant, but the underlying anxiety did not give rest. Something was clearly not normal, but what?



Then it struck me: the visual card is not functioning! Life condition charts were normal: they danced unusually, but I was after a car accident - deviations from the norm were to be expected. At the same time, the prompt did not work, that is, there was not even a greenish backlight. Usually you don’t notice the backlight due to the fact that it always lights up in the background, so I did not immediately pay attention to it. The same applies to jeepies, entertainment, personality scanners, info channels and information about yourself. Even the basic settings panel was dimmed and unavailable!



With weak hands I felt my head. No, the damage is not noticeable: the glasses are intact, the plastic case fits snugly on the skin. This means that internal damage is already easier. Perhaps a common failure is enough to reboot the system and it will work. We need a biotechnician, he’s probably in the hospital.



On a clean machine, I tried to turn on the distress beacon. Then I realized: it will not succeed - the visual card is broken. It remained - some kind of Middle Ages, just think! - give a sound signal.



“Hey!” I shouted, not really hoping that they would hear in the corridor.



In the corridor they would not have heard, but on the next bunk they moved in and pressed the call button. I did not know that such a relic technology was preserved. On the other hand, there should be some kind of alarm in case of technical damage to biosystems. All is correct.



The call lamp above the door blinked invitingly.



A man in a white coat entered the room. He looked around the room and unmistakably headed towards the needy, that is, to me.



“I am your attending physician Roman Albertovich. How are you feeling sick? ”



I was a little surprised. Why did the doctor say his name - doesn’t my personality scanner work ?! And then I realized: it really does not work, so the doctor had to introduce himself.



It was exorbitant, ancient. I could not determine the identity of the interlocutor using a scanner, so I actually talked to an unidentified person. Out of habit, it became creepy. Now I understood what the victims of robbery feel when an unknown approaches them from the darkness. Now such cases are rare, but twenty years ago, technical means for disabling identifiers existed. Illegal, of course. It is good that they were completely eradicated. Now to survive such horror is possible only in the event of a technical malfunction. That is, in my case.



These gloomy thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant. I opened my mouth for an answer, but fixed my gaze on the dimmed tip panel. Damn, it doesn’t function - I won’t get used to it! Will have to answer myself, live.



There are undeveloped people who, without a hint, cannot pronounce a coherent phrase, but I was not one of them. I quite often talked independently: in childhood - out of mischief, later - realizing that I could formulate more deeply and accurately. I even liked it, although I did not reach outright abuse.



“Side hurts,” I formulated my sensations without the aid of automation.



“You have a piece of skin ripped off and several ribs broken. But that doesn’t bother me. ”



The doctor replied noticeably faster than me. Any fool will be able to read him the subtitles of the tip.



The doctor had a middle-aged face with an overly massive nose. Work visualization, I would correct the doctor’s nose in the direction of reduction, still would smooth out a couple of wrinkles and lighten the hair. I do not like thick noses, wrinkles and dark hair. Probably, the figure didn’t interfere. But the visual card did not work - I had to observe reality in an unedited form. The feeling is still something to be noted.



“Naturally, this does not bother you, Roman Albertovich. Broken ribs bother me. By the way, my visual card is also broken. Most of the interface elements are dull, ”I said, almost without straining.



The intelligence of a person who speaks freely without a clue could not but make a favorable impression on the doctor. But Roman Albertovich did not flinch a single facial muscle.



“What is your soul identification number?”



He wants to make sure I am sane. Is it not clear yet?



"I can not."



“Do you not remember him?”



“I had an accident half an hour after the relocation. I did not have time to remember. If you need my ID number, scan it yourself. ”



"Unfortunately this is not possible. There is no soul identifier in your body. It can be assumed that at the time of the accident he was in the chest area, and he was torn off with the skin. ”



“What does it mean in the chest area?” Isn't a chip implanted in a brush? And my hands are safe. ”



I lifted my hands over the covers and turned them over.



“The chips are implanted in the right hand along with the ports, yes. However, separate floating structures are currently used. After installation, the ports remain in the brush, and the identifiers begin to move freely throughout the body in accordance with the program laid down in them. The goal is to make illegal shutdown impossible. ”



“But ... I remember my old identifier, before moving. 52091TY901IOD, write it down. And I remember the former surname-name-middle name. Zaitsev Vadim Nikolaevich. "



The doctor shook his head.



“No, no, that won't help. If you moved, Vadim Zaitsev is already a different person, you understand. By the way, precisely because of the lack of a shower identifier, your visual card works in a limited shelf life mode. The device itself is okay, we checked. ”



“What to do?” I croaked, lifting up the broken ribs.



“The Department of Unidentified Souls will establish where your soul has moved. This will take time - about a week. In the morning you will go to dressings. All the best, sick, get well soon. Sorry for not calling you by name. Unfortunately, I don’t know it. ”



Roman Albertovich left, and I began to think what was going on. I have lost the identifier, as a result of which I am currently an unidentified soul. Brrr-r! Just thinking about it gave me a jerk. And the visual card does not work. There is nothing to hope for her recovery - at least in the coming week. Indeed, a bad day - in the morning I did not ask!



And then I noticed a man in a neighboring bunk.

3.

A neighbor examined me without saying a word.



He was almost an old man, with a disheveled hairstyle and beard, sticking out faded bundles in different directions. And the neighbor didn’t have a visual card, that is, he didn’t have it at all! Instead of eyepieces, naked, open pupils looked at me. Darkness around the eyes, to which the case had previously been attached, was noticeable, but not so much. It does not seem that the old man has just freed himself from visualization - most likely, this happened a few days ago.



“Crashed during an accident,” I realized.



After a long silence, the neighbor spoke, rather maliciously to start dating.



“Why are you scared, blue?” You didn’t organize the accident yourself? My name is Uncle Lesha, by the way. And you don’t know your new name, right? I will call Vadik. ”



I agreed. He decided to let the familiar poke and “pigeon” pass by his ears, after all, a sick man. Moreover, in the dressings I myself was helpless: not even a few hours had passed before the car hit me. And in general, my ribs are broken. By the way, they started to ache - apparently, the action of analgesics was coming to an end.



“Why are you scared, Vadik?”



“It's unusual to be unidentified.”



“Do you believe that?”



“What?”



“That souls fly from one body to another.”



I choked. The old man, it turns out, is crazy. Judging by his appearance, this was to be expected. At the same time, Uncle Lesha spoke without stopping, almost without thinking, although he also did not use a hint. Well done, however.



“This is an established scientific fact.”



“Who installed?”



“The brilliant psychophysicist Alfred Glazenap. Have you not heard of him? ”



Uncle Lesha laughed deliciously. At this moment, I presented a famous photo in which Glazenap puts horns on another famous psychophysicist - Charles Du Preu. Old Glazenap would have looked at the senile senile, whom I observe, would have strengthened his neglect of humanity.



“And what, what did your brilliant psychophysicist establish?” - uncle Lesha choked in laughter.



“That souls move from body to body.”



“You know what I'll tell you, Vadik ...” - the neighbor confidentially leaned out of bed in my direction.



"What?"



“Man has no soul.”



I did not find anything better than asking:



“And then what moves between the bodies?”



“Does hell know him?” - muttered Uncle Lesha, shaking a goat's beard. “How do I even know about the soul?” I can’t see her. ”



"How not to see? You see it on the interface, in your own data. This is your shower identifier. ”



“Your shower identifier breaches. There is only one identifier. It's me! I AM! I AM!"



Uncle Lesha patted his chest with his fist.



“All identifiers cannot lie simultaneously. Technique after all. If one of the identifiers lied, people with the same souls or people without a certain body would form. You simply confuse your body with your soul. But these are different substances. ”



We continued to talk without clues. The accustomed gaze still slid along the idle panel, but the brain no longer waited for the required replica, but generated it on its own. Certainly, there was relish in this - half-forbidden, therefore even more spicy and sweet.



“And imagine,” said Uncle Lesha, after some thoughtfulness, “that identifiers will resolve in a consistent manner.”



“How is that?” I was surprised.



“Someone is pushing a button.”



“That is, they don’t capture the mutual movement of souls with the help of wave interference, but simply reprogrammed?”



"Well."



“A conspiracy, or what?”



A fad began to reach me, on which the old man was turned.



“Exactly!”



"What for?"



“They, Vadik, are profitable. To change people according to their own free will - is that bad? ”



“But what about modern scientists? Hundreds of thousands of articles on RPDs - random soul movement? All conspirators? ”



“Yes, there is no soul, blue!” The old man roared out of himself.



“Stop calling me blue, Uncle Lesha, otherwise I’ll ask you to move me to another room. And a person has a soul, let it be known to you. At all times, poets wrote about the soul - even before the RPD was discovered. And you say there’s no soul. ”



We both sat back on the pillows and fell silent, enjoying the idiocy of our opponent.



Wanting to smooth out the pause, which I had to stay in the hospital for several days with this person, I turned the conversation to a more, as it seemed to me, safe topic:



"Also had an accident?"



"Why do you think so?"



“Well then? Just lie in the hospital room ... "



The old man grinned.



“No, I refused to wear my visual card. And the ghoul who came to settle in my apartment gave a turn from the gate. And when they tied it, it broke the visual, right in the police department. Now they will restore, then fasten tightly to the head, in an armored budget version. That, therefore, could not take off anymore. ”



“So you are a maximalist, Uncle Lesha?”



“And then.”



I stared. For maximalism in our time they gave up to 8 years.



“And do not tremble, Vadik,” the criminal old man continued. - You got into a normal accident, did not adjust anything. You will not be kept in the Department of Unidentified Souls for a long time. Released. "



I rolled over sideways with difficulty and looked up. The window was tiled with a metal grill. Uncle Lesha didn’t lie: it was not an ordinary district hospital, but a hospital department of the Department of Unidentified Souls.



Ek has managed me!

four.

Two days later, Roman Albertovich said that my shower identifier was set.



“We made the chip, we have our own equipment. It remains only to implant. "



The procedure itself did not take ten seconds. The biotechnician wiped the skin fold between the thumb and forefinger with a cotton swab dipped in alcohol and injected the chip. After that, he silently retired.



The dimming interface blinked a couple of times and came to life. In the week that has passed since the accident, I have almost lost touch with using prompts and other modern conveniences. It was nice that they returned.



Mindful of the sad experience, the first thing I looked at was personal data. Razuvaev Sergey Petrovich, shower identifier 209718OG531LZM.



I tried to remember.



“I have one more good news for you, Sergey Petrovich!” Said Roman Albertovich.



For the first time since we met, he allowed himself a slight smile.



Roman Albertovich opened the door, and a woman with a five-year-old daughter entered the room.



"Dad! Dad! ”The girl screeched and threw herself on my neck.



“Caution, Helen, dad had an accident,” the woman managed to warn.



The scanner showed that this is my new wife, Razuvaeva Ksenia Anatolyevna, shower identifier 80163UI800RWM and my new daughter, Razuvaeva Elena Sergeevna, shower identifier 89912OP721ESQ.



"Everything is fine. How much I missed you, my relatives, ”the tip prompted.



"Everything is fine. How much I missed you, my relatives, ”I did not begin to argue with either the prompter or common sense.



“When you moved, Serezha, we were so worried,” the wife began to tell, with tears in her eyes. “They were waiting, but you are not coming.” Helen asks where is dad. I reply that will come soon. I answer, but she shakes with fear. ”



Using the restored capabilities of the interface, I adjusted the face and figure of Xenia with the light movements of the pupils in the likeness of the wives who had been with my body before. I didn’t make full copies - it was considered bad form, with which I completely agreed - but gave some similarities. So it’s easier to settle down in a new place.



Helen did not require improvements: she was as young and fresh as a pink petal without any adjustment. I just changed her hair and bow color, and also pressed her ears denser to the skull.



With return to his family, boy.



“Who knew that the brakes of the car would fail,” the prompter issued.



“Who knew that the car’s brakes would fail,” I said.



Obedient boy.



“I almost lost my mind, Seryozha. I turned to the emergency service, they answer: such has not been received, no information. Wait, he must come. ”



Ksenia still could not stand it and burst into tears, then for a long time she wiped her happy tear-stained face with a handkerchief.



We talked for about five minutes. The forecaster received the necessary information by analyzing the behavior of my soul in the previous body shell using neural networks. Then he issued the required remarks, and I read out, not being afraid to miss. Social adaptation in action.



The only deviation from the script during the conversation was my appeal to Roman Albertovich.



“What about the ribs?”



“They grow together, there is nothing to worry about,” the doctor waved his hand. “I’ll go to issue an extract.”



My wife and daughter also went out, giving me the opportunity to get dressed. Grunting, I got out of bed and pulled myself up to the exit.



All this time, Uncle Lesha watched with interest from a neighboring bunk.



“What are you happy about, Vadik? You see them for the first time. ”



“The body sees for the first time, but the soul does not. She feels a soul mate, so she’s so calm, ”the tip prompted.



“You think I see them for the first time?” I said.



Uncle Lesha, as usual, neighing.



“Why do you think the souls of men move exclusively to men, and the souls of women to women? And age is approximately preserved, and location. Ah, blue? ”



“Because wave interference of human souls is possible only in gender, age and spatial parameters,” the tiptaker recommended.



“So after all, the male soul and the female soul are different,” I remarked thoughtfully.



“Do you know about the existence of people who do not resettle?” Generally nowhere. ”



Such rumors reached me, but I did not answer.



In fact, there was nothing to talk about - for a week we talked about everything. I learned a simple old-fashioned argument, but there was no way to convince the maximalist. It seems that in all his life Uncle Lesha’s body has never fallen into a professorship.



However, they parted peacefully. They promised to deliver a visual card for the old man tomorrow - therefore, tomorrow or the day after tomorrow he will have an implantation operation. I will not specify whether Uncle Lesha will be sent to prison after the operation. What do I care about an accidental neighbor in the hospital room, even if it’s not a hospital, but the Department of Unidentified Souls ?!



“Good luck,” I read out the final tip of the hint and stepped towards my wife and daughter, who were waiting outside the door.

5.

Imprisonment in the Department of unidentified souls is a thing of the past. The ribs healed, leaving a sinuous scar on the chest. I enjoyed a happy family life, with my wife Ksenia and daughter Lenochka.



The only thing that was poisoning my new life was the grain of doubt that the old maximalist Uncle Lesha had thrown into my brain so that it was empty for him. These grains did not give me rest, did not stop tormenting me. They should either sprout carefully, or uproot.Still, I was often moved around by scientists - with the need to solve personal problems through logical introspection, I got used to it.



One day I came across a file about the history of the RPD: ancient, in an ancient, now not used format. I did not fail to familiarize myself with it. The file contained a review report submitted by a certain official to a higher authority. I wondered how public servants could write in those days - thoroughly and thoroughly. I had the feeling that the text was written without the help of a clue, but that was impossible, of course. Just the style of the report did not quite correspond to the style usually issued by linguistic automation.



The information contained in the file was as follows.



In the era of syncretism, people had to exist in the dark times of the inseparability of the soul from the body. That is, it was believed that the separation of the soul from the body is possible only at the time of bodily death.



The situation changed in the middle of the 21st century, when the Austrian scientist Alfred Glazenap put forward the concept of RPD. The concept was not only unusual, but also incredibly complex: only a few people in the world understood it. Something based on wave interference - I missed this passage with mathematical formulas, unable to understand them.



In addition to theoretical justification, Glazenap presented a diagram of a stigmatron apparatus for identifying the soul. The device was fabulously expensive. Nevertheless, 5 years after the opening of the RPD, the world's first stigmatron was built - on a grant received from the International Fund for Innovations and Investments.



Experiments on volunteers began. They confirmed the concept put forward by Glasenap: the effect of RPD takes place.



By sheer coincidence, the first couple exchanged souls was discovered: Erwin Grid and Kurt Stiegler. The event thundered in the world press: portraits of heroes did not leave the covers of popular magazines. Grid and Stiegler became the most famous people on the planet.



Soon, the star couple decided to restore the soul status quo, having completed the world's first relocation of bodies after souls. The piquancy was added by the fact that Grid was married and Stiegler was single. Probably, the motive of their action was not a reunion of souls, but a banal advertising campaign, but soon it did not matter. In the new places, the settlers felt much more comfortable than in the former. Psychologists around the world have soared - literally reared up. Overnight, the old psychology collapsed to be replaced by a new progressive psychology - taking into account RPD.



The world press conducted a new information campaign, this time in favor of the therapeutic effect experienced by Grid and Stiegler. Initially, attention was focused on the positive aspects of resettlement in the complete absence of negative ones. Gradually, the question began to be posed in a moral plane: is it right that bilateral consent is necessary for relocation? Is not the desire of at least one side enough?



The filmmakers seized on the idea. Several comedy series were shot in which ridiculous situations arising from the resettlement were played. Resettlement has become part of the cultural code of humanity.



Subsequent studies have revealed many couples exchanging souls. We established the patterns typical for movement:

1. usually the movement occurred during sleep;
2. , ;
3. , ;
4. 2-10 , .

Perhaps, the story of the RPD would have abated, and then completely ended as a scientific incident that has no practical significance. But shortly after that - somewhere in the middle of the 21st century - a visual card was designed, in its almost modern version.

Vizualka literally changed everything.



With its appearance and subsequent mass distribution, it became clear: immigrants can be socially adapted. Vizuals possessed individual interfaces, personalized, which made the immigrants indistinguishable from other fellow citizens, who also read out replicas from the tooltip panels. No difference was observed.



Due to the use of visuals, the inconvenience for the settlers practically disappeared. The bodies were given the opportunity to follow the moving souls without noticeable damage to socialization.



Legislation - first several countries, then international - was supplemented with clauses on mandatory soul identification and mandatory relocation in the case of a fixed RPD, and the effect was achieved. The number of psychoses in the renewed humanity has declined. What psychoses, if your life can change any night - it is possible that for the better ?!



So the resettlement turned into a vital need. People have found peace and hope. And all of this humanity owed the brilliant discovery of Alfred Glazenap.



“What if Uncle Lesha is right?” - I had a crazy thought.



The clerk blinked but said nothing. Probably a random glitch. The interface captures the thoughts addressed to it directly, and ignores the rest. At least that's what the specification says.



Despite the absurdity of the assumption, it should have been considered. But I did not want to think. Everything was so glorious and measured: work in the archive, hot borsch with which Ksenia will feed me upon my return ...

6.

In the morning I woke up from a female screech. An unknown woman, wrapped in a blanket, squealed, pointing her finger at me:



“Who are you? What are you doing here? ”



Although what does the unfamiliar mean? The visual adjustment did not work, but the personality scanner showed that this was my wife Ksenia. The details were the same. But now I watched Ksenia in the guise in which I first saw: at the moment when my wife opened the door of my hospital room.



“What the hell?” I cursed, not even glancing at the tooltip.



When he looked, the same phrase shone there.



With wives it’s always like that. Is it really hard to guess what moved me? Visual adjustments configured for the soul identifier shifted to the default values, so it was not possible to recognize me by appearance. If, of course, Ksenia used visual adjustments, but I did not know that. But it was possible to guess something about my movement! If you go to bed with one man in the evening and wake up with another, then the man has been moved. Is it really not clear ?! Aren't you the first time to wake up with a displaced husband, you fool ?!



Ksenia, meanwhile, did not let up.



I rolled out of bed and got dressed quickly. By that time, my ex-wife had woken up my ex-daughter with her cries. Together they composed a two-voice choir, capable of raising the dead from the grave.



I exhaled, only being on the street. He gave the address to the jeepie, and she blinked.



“Go left along the square,” the prompter flashed.



Shuffling from the morning cold, I strode to the subway.



To say that rabies choked me was to say nothing. If two movements in a year seemed rare bad luck, then the third lay beyond the bounds of probability theory. It could not be a mere accident, it simply could not!



Is Uncle Lesha right and the RPD is manageable? The thought was not new, but crushed by its fundamental evidence.



What contradicts Uncle Leshin’s statements, actually? Does a person have a soul? All my life experience, all my upbringing prompted: this is not so. However, I understood: for the concept of Uncle Lesha, the absence of a soul was not required. It was enough to accept the syncretism of the ancients - the approach according to which the soul is tightly attached to a specific body.



Let's say. Classical conspiracy theory. But for what purpose?



I was still in the stage of active thinking, but the answer was known. Of course, for the purpose of managing people. Court, confiscation of property is too long and painful procedure for the owners of life. It is much easier to just move a person to a new place of residence, as it were randomly, without malicious intent, on the basis of physical law. At the same time, all social ties break, material wealth changes - literally everything changes. Extremely comfortable.



Why was I relocated for the third time in a year?



“For the study of RPD. With a certain amount of bad luck, it can attract maximalism, ”a thought flickered.



The clerk blinked but said nothing. I was horrified and sat down on a small bench. Then he pulled a visual card from his head and began to carefully wipe her eyepieces with a handkerchief. The world again appeared before me in an unedited form. This time he did not impress me distorted, rather the opposite.



“Do you



feel bad?” The girl, ready to help, looked at me sympathetically.



"No thanks. His eyes hurt - the settings were probably lost. Now I will sit for a while, then I will hand over the device for repair. ”The



girl nodded and continued her young path. I bowed my head so that the absence of a visual card would not catch the eye of passers-by.



Still, why is this the third, clearly unplanned relocation? Think, think, Seryozha ... Or Vadik?



The visual card was in my hands, and I did not remember my new name - and did not want to remember this time. What is the difference, Seryozha or Vadik? I am me.



I remembered how Uncle Lesha pounded his chest with his fist shouting:



“It's me! I AM!Me! ”



And the answer immediately came. I was punished! Immigrants are accustomed to the fact that in each new life their material wealth is different from the old. Usually the difference was negligible, although the poles existed. Therefore, in my new life, material wealth will be reduced.



The bank account could be checked now, having fastened a visual, but, excited by thinking, I did not bother.



He concentrated and put on a visual card. At the same time I tried to think about what the weather will be next week. It would be nice to have done without rain: walking under an umbrella is uncomfortable, and after that the boots are wet.



Following the jeepieske, I, in a state of artificial inhibition, reached a new home.



When I went into the elevator, I suddenly realized: my material wealth would decrease or increase, anyway. The owners of life will not succeed. I don’t know for what reason, but one day the RPD will turn to them with an unpredictable flip side. Then these secretive and ruthless creatures will be swept away from the face of the planet.



You will lose, nonhumans.



Elevator doors opened. I went out onto the landing.



“Go into apartment number 215. The door to the right,” the prompter said.



Jeepiesca blinked, indicating direction.



I turned to the right door and put my palm against the identification plate. The lock clicked confidentially.



I pushed the door and stepped into a new life.