Game of Tag. Fantasy. Julia Syanova
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you have a meeting in the hall in ten minutes’, – she said.
“Yes, Marina. Thank you.” – Muted the sound: “I appointed it myself.” – Turned on the sound. “I am on my way.”
“How hard it is to go on vacation. I need to figure it out as soon as possible.”
The next two days, he passed on his business at the institute, then two more days he and his wife collected things and only on the fifth day finally left far away from the news and all these new gadgets.
In the pizzeria near the university, there was a special charm. Many freshmen worked there and the pretty girls from the Faculty of Oriental Studies were going to drink chocolate.
The guys placed the order and were waiting for pizza and burgers.
They sat down at a table near the window. It seemed that everyone was thinking his own thoughts. Sergey was in a confused state of mind and had no idea where to search for the new job.
He had no intent to work for Roma’s father in a stuffy office or as an errand-boy for the miserable crumbs of “student’ wages. So he was sitting, sorting out all the possible options, and still could not take any decision.
“You are in sorrow, my friend, as far as I see!” – Roma said, sipping an eerie green energy drink.
For a moment it seemed like that was the redheaded gnome drinking herbal potion.
“How can you drink this stuff? It’s made of oil!”
“If you judge by the price, then you’re right. But oil never caused me to be allergic, even when taken intravenously. Hehe.”
“So, tell me about ‘AKVUA ROBE’.”
“Serega, you’ll drive me insane with your accent.”
“Well, I did not live in London.”
A nice waitress brought drinks and hot sandwiches.
“Pizza will be ready in twelve minutes’, – she said, placing everything on the table.
When she left, the two boys watched her go and everyone came to the idea that the uniform was, of course, too short, but it only added a healthy appetite.
“Listen, Roma, what about the robe?”
“Finish chewing, and then talk!”
“What did you want to tell about the robes?”
“Ah, well, at last, you’ve got to the point. This is a unique system of healing for any organism. I told you, the rumours started from the top. All the presidents, the heads of banks and others, had bought AQUA Robe long ago.”
Roma bit off the sandwich and closed his eyes. “Yes, in Russia food is definitely tastier. Not as tasteless as in England and not as spicy as in India.” Having washed his food down with his energy cocktail, he sighed and continued. All this time he watched his only friend “not because of Daddy’s money’ eating bread greedily, wiping the sauce from the plate.
“This development is closely connected with other works of this company, with genetic modulations, with the medicine development, and, of course, with the novelty – the information carrier AOUA FLASH. In general, all their developments are interconnected with the discovery of the ‘memory of water.’ They produced a programmed liquid crystal substance.”
“Su-u-y-u’, – a loud nasty sound, when you drink from the straw to the last drop. “Roma, I know, of course, that you are a fan of new gadgets, but you start talking almost in Japanese.”
“I do not know Japanese. Come on! I do not want to be like my father, a f……financier; I always wanted to be an engineer. Hehhh…”
Well, they created “smart water’, and then in the course of the experiment, or, perhaps, accidentally someone left a rotten apple in a flask with such water. And what happened, how do you think?
“An apple turned into a tree?”
“No. The apple remained an apple. But absolutely fresh apple, not rotten.”
“Come on, cut the crap! I don’t believe you! If this was true, everyone would be already running to their office in order to smash it and get a litre for each person.”
“Serega, this water cannot be used for food. It is literally technical. This is all true; my father was present at the demonstration for the exclusive people. He also invested a large amount in this garbage of the future.”
“You mean, if you lie for a while in such a ‘Robe’ – like an apple, you will become pink and fresh, won’t you?”
“I did not say that. But who said that an apple genetically is only a little simpler than human. And, besides, my father is dreaming of rejuvenating and is not playing games, though he was one of the first to order AOUA Robe.”
“Grandfather!” The apples of Sergei’s eyes widened and he realized what was happening.
“Holy Hell! I was thinking it would not happen!”
The waitress smiled, she had already decided to leave her room to that redhead one. After all, she realized that he was the son of one of the richest people in this country.
There was a sound in the reception office; someone was knocking on the door.
“Come in!” Marina said, she just wanted to drink coffee, but, apparently, she had to do it later.
A heavy armoured door opened and two students entered.
“Hmm, I know them. King and beggar! That’s how a Japanese teacher called them.”
“Marina Artemovna, is the rector in?”
“Yes, Romochka, he did not go out after the meeting. Are you on a private matter?” she tried to be as polite as possible because she was aware of the complicated relationship of this redhead person’s father and Misha.
“Then shall we come in?”
“First I shall warn him.” She picked up the phone and started speaking.
The phone started to thrum again. The rector was now ready to kill his secretary because the headache was just started to weaken. And this sound went through his brain like a blunt knife.
“Hello!” he almost shouted.
“Michael… erm, Vladimirovich, students are waiting for you, Roma Babitsky and…” She covered the phone handset with a perfectly manicured hand and whispered: “What is your name?”
“Kravtsov Sergey, the third year student, Department of economics and management.”
“And Kravtsov Sergey, the third year student, shall I let them in?”
“Yes.”
Reactor’s hands were sweaty. It seems like a cold wind blew from all sides.
“What does he want from me?”
He sat down in his chair, straightened his tie and reached for a glass of water, his throat dried out instantly. At that moment the door opened and two students entered. He knew one of the students, and at the same time, he was trying to avoid the second one with every fibre of his being as long as possible.
“Good day, Mikhail Vladimirovich! We wanted to receive our lottery tickets.”
“Hello, Roma! Doesn’t the group leader have your tickets?”
“There is a big queue,” the red-haired, impudent Jew answered.
“Oh, yes, of course.” The rector dialled the number and after waiting a few seconds said: “Bring two tickets to my office now.”
And hung up. He had to crack a smile at the guys and keep being polite.
“Sit down, please. Coffee or tea?”
No.