ISBN 978-5-4490-7214-6

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      For the first time in his life, he won a lottery and became one of the first people to participate the game with a full immersion. That mean, money and unique technology. Correspondents are eager to interview with him. He is famous!

      The game, bright colors, all feelings are as close to reality as possible.

      New technologies are beckoning, but is everything as magnificent as it is written in advertising?

      “Dogonyalki’ (“Game of Tag’)

      CHAPTER №1

      INTERVIEW WITH DISAPPEARED GODS

      A country estate in the Crimea is a daydream. Fresh air, beautiful views, far from the highways and fifteen minutes way to the sea, but if you have your own beach, then it is not just a daydream, it is a cosmos.

      Maria was riding in a white taxi and could not calm down, the landscapes were marvellous, she felt so comfortable, and the reason was the person, who invited her.

      When the call was received by the editorial office, it was answered by the editor-in-chief himself, he flew out of the office like a scooter and ran to the director

      As she was explained later, the customer was very important, so important, that for seven years till now he had been offered a million for an interview, and according to rumors, even more. All the news companies of the world were hunting for him, trying to bribe his servants or shop sellers, where, it is also rumored, he made purchases.

      But for all the seven years there were no results.

      And now his personal secretary called and invited a young and unknown journalist to stay with him for three days.

      All the turmoil began immediately, the chief palmed off a long and horrible list of questions:

      “These questions are obligatory. You should ask everything!”

      Also, it was obligatory to take photos of everything possible, besides the master of the estate himself. The chief hinted that for the photos containing embarrassing moments, for example, drunken or naked master of the estate, she would receive an advance in office and an increase in the salary. And if she succeeds in capturing a photo of a completely obscene nature, of cussing or blathering person, then she will become his personal deputy with all the respective consequences.

      Masha did not like this “jaundice’, she was not comfortable with all this dirt. She, of course, promised to do everything possible for one hundred percent, but she was disgusted.

      The car was driving along a straight road, poplars and cherries were growing on the roadside. Quite a strange combination of roadside trees. But then she imagined how splendid it was in the spring: pink cherry blossoms and white fluff of poplars.

      When the taxi turned, the three-storeyed building arose in front of her, like a video. The white building, drowning in the greenery of trees and braided with ivy.

      There were no high fences. So strange that paparazzi could not take photos of anything. When the taxi arrived and stopped, a man opened the door and helped her to get out. Pretty pleasant appearance, in light breeches and a summer white shirt in fashion this summer. She supposed him to be the master, but soon it became clear that he was something like a butler named Vladimir Antonovich. He invited her to enter the house. And told that he would cope with her luggage himself.

      She climbed the stairs and, passing by the columns, went inside a huge hall, and it seemed that all the walls were glassy.

      Light-coloured parquet floor, minimum of furniture. In fact, nothing special, light-coloured walls without pictures, a suspended oval fireplace perhaps, could be considered the only decoration, but it was summer and it was not burning.

      Then she heard laughter, joyful voices and went to the sound.

      Walking along a rather narrow and long corridor, she had to go down a small staircase, and she got into a place, which could be a veranda or a dining room. It was very light, a lot of greenery in pots, big white sofas and a variety of armchairs and pouffes.

      A lot of people were sitting on the sofas and playing something. She was not seen at once. But when she was noticed, she immediately became the center of attention.

      Everyone was silent and looked at her.

      All of them were very beautiful and young, it was evident that they were rich. And then the idea flashed upon her: she knows them all! Everyone living on the planet knows them! It’s really them!

      “Well, why are you all, like predators staring at the poor girl?” – said a young girl having light-colored curls, wearing a blue dress.

      “Do not be shy, come in.” She got up and walked to meet Maria. “Forgive us our awkwardness and hostility; you are the first guest for a long time.”

      They went into the inward space of the room, and she was placed in a very deep armchair. Her bright country dress with a small flower print came to the place, and at least now Masha sighed with relief. Everyone was wearing light and casual, simple outfits of shorts and T-shirts, long skirts and even Hawaiian shirts. All present were millionaires and billionaires.

      “Now we shall finish and then ask you, Maria, to join us. How do you think? Do you know how to play “Mafia’? – said the “person of the most importance’, whom she had to photograph while pooping. She was embarrassed by this thought.

      “I can play ‘Mafia’”.

      “You are too modest for a journalist,” said the man, with a swarthy skin and curly hair. He drank the coca from the jar and nodded the residue through the straw.

      “Serb, do not embarrass the girl.”

      “Okay, Gray’, – he smiled and sat down in his place.

      The game began. The girl, who met Masha, was the show presenter. All the rest were participants.

      Forty minutes later, Masha completely forgot why she was there and that everything happening was to be memorized and recorded. She laughed heartily, and it turned out that the players slightly changed the game. There it was necessary to invent the most ridiculous arguments to confirm the fact that you are not mafia, and the most absurd ones to evidence that the opponent is in fact mafia.

      All participants were very familiar with each other and very light-hearted; this created quite a family atmosphere.

      Then they all played, and although Masha did not get a significant role in the game, she laughed heartily.

      Then there was a delicious lunch of seafood and a light dessert with wine.

      She looked at them and could not believe that all these people have been in the tabloids for more than five years, they make millions of young people envy. They are just people, not gods, as everyone thinks. She relaxed and sincerely smiled.

      When everyone drifted away in the house and in the garden, the person of the “most importance’ invited her to stroll in the park.

      “Tell me, Maria, but honestly, what did your terrible chief butcher concoct?”

      She took out a small recorder and turned it on.

      They heard a crack in the beginning, and then the male voice began to screech, like a pig.

      He listed the questions, swore, and repeated something about great luck.

      “M-yeah. Turn it off, please. It’s unbearable. How do you work with him?”

      “I have to.”

      “None of us had been interviewed for all these years because all these years we did not stop conducting our ‘own game’. Now, when almost everything is over, we shall tell you our stories. That is why everyone has gathered here. And frankly speaking, I’m very glad about that. For a long time, we