8:43 - August 1 - 1099
(Ress less - Superfluid).
Lungmen greeted the new day. The inhabitants of the night streets sought shelter in dark cellars, tunnels, and houses, as if mythical trolls stiffened by the light. Lungman was a big city, full of inexplicable, mystical things. The mundane mixed with the inexplicable here. Who knows if real evil lurked along with the dregs of humanity?
The outskirts of the city. The junction of the slums and the residential part of Lungmen, where unlimited Internet and police reach. On this street sits the skyscraper of RimBilliton, a major, industry-leading company.
The skyscraper had been battered by time, flooded, but inhabited. Most of the inhabitants were rats and midges, but the upper floors were inhabited by some people. Elevators worked, and the tops of the skyscraper looked tidier.
At the very bottom, three people stood in front of the skyscraper, talking softly. A brunette lupo was arguing with a red-haired sankta, and a small boy with bull-horns was huddled a little farther away. The sankta was gesticulating vigorously, while the lupo stood with her hands at her waist, relying entirely on her tongue rather than her gestures.
"Bison," the brunette turned to the boy. "The map."
He blinked, disengaged from his thoughts, rummaged through his pockets, and finally pulled out a plan of the building. Lupo unfolded the crumpled sheet and began tracing rectangles of corridors with her finger.
"Opponents will meet us in tight spaces. The length of your assault rifle will be a hindrance. The submachine gun will be faster and more deadly."
"But my assault rifle," sankta grumbled angrily. "I want to test it! It's so beautiful and new, do you know how much it cost?"
"I have no idea," the brunette replied.
"All of my salary for three months! THREE MONTHS!" She shook Lupe's shoulders in an overdrive of emotion. She made a disgruntled face, but did not resist. "Do you understand, Texas?"
Texas calmed down, and finally pulled her friend away from her.
"I understand, but it would be more efficient."
"Calm down, my friend, nothing will happen," sankta radiated self-confidence. "We're experienced fighters. We'll take these assholes out in no time."
"I just don't want you to go to the hospital."
"Well, Texas..." sankta continued to stammer on, her feet planted on the ground at the same time.
Lupo was fed up with the infantilism with which her red-haired friend was preparing for battle, and she responded succinctly:
"Lappland said so."
Sankta turned pale in an instant. Forte, standing behind her, twitched his ears in interest, but he knew by the mere sight of the girls that this was serious. He turned his beastly ears to the argument, and listened.
"That's... different," unsurely answered the angel. "Lappy went for a serious operation. We take fewer risks."
"Self-confidence is a slow and insidious killer," cut off Texas. She could be tough if need be. "That's what the classics said, and it's not for you to argue with them."
Sankta had no choice but to agree. She drooped, and closed her eyes. A circle of light with the silhouettes of weapons appeared in the air behind her. A Vector submachine gun incarnate in her hand. A modern black assault rifle took the place of the incarnated gun. The girl opened her eyes, and the circle disappeared. Bison's tail began to sway, reflecting her master's surprise.
Sankta suddenly slapped herself on the forehead, and cheered up. "Oh, I have an idea. Let's check out the new assault rifle at the shooting range. I'll beat you out with a stuffed wolf cub, you can count on it." She smiled, and held up two fingers on the inside of her palm.
"Whatever you say."
"Hey, what am I going to do?" Bison asked. His round shield gleamed in the sun, creating reflections in the water from the skyscraper.
"You're coming with us, of course!" The angel replied cheerfully.
"I don't think he should. "As always, Texas was adamant. "I'm sorry."
The boy looked at her resentfully.
"You don't think I can do this?"
"Maybe," Lupo said, trying to find the right words. "Struggling for life is always stressful. It can break you."
"With me it will be you," the boy answered confidently. "And Exu. I believe in you guys."
"And I believe in you," the angel replied.
Texas couldn't help smiling, and unknowingly wagged her tail. She noticed the naughty tail, and put it down, a little embarrassed.
"Okay. Look," she pointed to the map. "The enemy had positioned himself upstairs. Judging by the whole windows, there were ten inhabited floors. The last two are warehouses, and the two below are plantations. That makes six residential floors." Lupo reasoned. "Six floors of opponents."
Bison shuddered. "Brrr. Do we have to kill them all?"
"Exactly. Some of them will chicken out and run upstairs. But there'll be some brave ones who'll fight back."
"Uh... What does that mean?" Interlocutor didn't understand.
"We'll get caught in a firefight. Sooner or later. We..."
"We could use another man," an unfamiliar voice answered for the girl.
The three turned around in sync. By the same wall, leaning against it, stood a tall young man. His face caught the eye with golden sandpaper stubble that gave him a few extra years, and a general thinness. A white tank top with no lettering hid an equally slender and wiry body. The girls found him very masculine, but Bison was silently jealous.
"Please name yourself." Texas reached for the glowing sword on her belt, visibly tense.
"Servant of the people," the guy said pompously, but then smiled. "Okay. My name is Simeon."
"Simeon? Hmm. Sounds Ursusian", marked the sankta. "I am Exusiai. And she's Texas."
Lupo nodded, confirming the address, and cautiously cut to the chase. "Are you here to offer help?"
"Yes. I can manage, don't worry," The man who approached calmly replied.
Exusiai inquired about his weapons, to which Simon showed his bandaged fists and impressive knuckles.
The brunette asked suspiciously "Why have you come here?"
"To the gunfight. You too?"
Texas flinched. A gunfight? Is he serious?
"Yes." She stretched out in surprise. Not that it surprised her much, but over the years she had become accustomed to such words.
Forte and sankta showed every indication of incomprehension. The silence was broken by the blond:
"Hey, Bull boy, I'm going to take the top three floors. Are you with me, or are you going to stand guard?"
"Uh..." Bison didn't know what to say. The man with the sandpaper on his face sounded as confident as if he could really take down a mob of dangerous thugs with his little knuckles. With his menacing look, Bison began to believe it.
"He offers to keep watch outside."
And then the guy finally got it. He wagged his tail and with a mixture of annoyance and frustration asked:
"Do you doubt me, Mr. Simon?"
"Yes, you don't look strong."
Bison was calm and understanding of criticism, as his father had taught him, but the blond man struck him as if with a lump on the head. He did not have time to object before Simon immediately continued:
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I can manage without you. Honestly, I can clean out this whole building." There was clearly a hint in that last sentence, Texas saw it. A friend realized it a little later, and stepped into the conversation:
"No, Mr. Simon, we're just having fun. Join in, if you like."
"And what's so much fun about it?" The man inquired.
"Fighting as a team is fun. There's much more to it..." Exusiai began, but she faltered under his displeased gaze. He was drilling her as if she'd said something stupid. The blond man backed away from the wall, and stepped closer.
"I understand. I just... don't share your enthusiasm."
Exu dropped, and the bull boy took the lead in the negotiations:
"I'll go with you. I'll have your back."
The man started to object, citing either his creepy fighting style or his unwillingness to risk the others, but Bison was adamant. Finally the blond sighed, and, warning him to blame himself, agreed to take him with him. As they went inside and waited for the elevators, Texas kept leering at Simon, but he instructed the boy without paying any attention to her, and soon she calmed down.
The doors of one elevator finally swung noisily open. Even after a year of desolation, the lamps were still glowing, inviting guests inside. Guest took the walkie-talkie from the girls, and stepped resolutely inside. Bison followed him in.
"Be careful," managed to shout out Simon, before he went into action. The second elevator arrived. The girls stood hesitantly for a little longer, but the sankta ran inside with a joyful shout of "Let's start the assault!" Texas had no choice but to follow her.
(Reznyck - Landroverdosis)
Exusiai stood in front of Texas. The doors opened noisily.
The long hallway rumbled. Exu happily squeezed the trigger of her submashine guns. The enemies standing in the aisle became a sieve. The girl sprinted forward with cries of "Follow me!" leaving her friend behind.
Her exuberant pace kept the bandits from regaining their senses before they were riddled with bullets. Red-haired sankta stormed into offices, shot anything that looked human, and then sped on. Texas, on the other hand, ran behind, finishing off those who had miraculously survived the shower of bullets and the energy of the marksmen.
The girls ran into a long box, knocking some poor guy out with the door. The enemy had time to react, and a firefight ensued. Exu jumped, rolled and dodged bullets like Jane Wick in a recent blockbuster. Bandits were falling, knocked down by bursts of gunfire, but one white-haired Lupo was successfully dodging shots and waiting for her moment to attack. Texas watched her tensely from cover.
Sankta left to reload, shouting this to her partner. She nodded, and prepared to cover her friend, who was approaching her. The white-haired woman immediately took off, but she ran into the sword of Texas, and collapsed. The others who approached shared her fate, turning to mincemeat.
Arrows whistled over the girl's head, but all as one missed. The sight of the lupo chopping their comrades into cabbages stunned the bandits, so much so that frightened cries of "Run!" were heard in the vicinity. Exusiai had just reloaded, and began firing at the retreating men as if they were game on a hunt.
After finishing off the last of them, angel reloaded, and once again raced through the skyscraper with cheerful shouts. By this time the floors were filled with the stomping of feet, everyone was running and shouting something, but no one escaped the bullets of the faithful submachine gun. Texas shuddered at the sight of blood flooding the hallways and staining her and her partner's jackets.
The girls burst into the former reception area, which offered a picturesque view of the city. A queue shattered a huge row of glasses, sweeping away the nearest bandit. The other two hid behind a table and threw a couple of grenades, trying to smoke their opponents out of hiding. Texas trusted her friend to deal with them, and turned on the radio.
"Group two, are you okay in there?" She shouted into the tube.
"We cleared the floor, everything's fine," Simon answered instead, running out of the elevator.
He immediately grabbed the thug standing by the door and bashed his head into the wall. The lupes in the hallway jumped up and charged the lads. Simon intercepted the arm of one, punched the other in the stomach, made a slash to the third. He counterattacked, parried every blow and struck back, and the dazed opponents could do nothing to him.
Bison watched in horror as his foes fell one by one under his partner's onslaught. Here he jumped up, missing the undercut, and smashed someone's head with a blow from above. He even wondered who needed protection here: Simon, smashing faces in cold blood, or him, writhing in indecision. Though the lad was glad he did not have to kill, this guy was perfectly capable of doing so himself.
There was a gurgling shriek, a knuckledown to the chest of one of the bandits, now covered in blood. Blond didn't even finish him off, distracted by the glint of the knife. The anthropomorphic fox with the knife grinned, and began to pounce on him. He calmly dodged a couple of slashing blows, missed a right poke. The fox got angry, and made the mistake of making a furious lunge. Simon coolly broke his arm and then his face with a hook. After that it was easy to finish off the rest.
"We'll be there in a few minutes," Guy said, before pushing the bandit away.
His brass knuckles proved their worth in the cramped corridors, allowing him to deliver precise and deadly blows. Combined with the guy's skill, the bandits, sandwiched between their panicked comrades and death in human form, didn't stand a chance.
Simon made his way to the big box. He snapped the neck of a vulpo that had been knocked over by a door, and he laid another against its jamb. He knocked down a third in a jump, deftly seized a fourth and crunched him to the floor. The pumped-up fox, who had run up, settled down from a kick to the stomach, and then flew out the window from an upward kick to the jaw. That's how fighter dealt with all the big opponents.
A minute passed. Within a minute, Simon had single-handedly wiped out the second floor and half the population of the third. Within a minute, the blond man had wreaked havoc the likes of which this building had never seen. The corridors turned into carnage: a body here, a tooth there, a bone here. The last place his partner would want to be. But he couldn't leave him alone, so he resisted the gagging with all his might while his partner crushed the bandits.
At the same time, down below, Exusiai fired a shot at a crossbowman who had popped out, distracting the gunmen from Texas. She was dancing with a muscular fox with brass knuckles. She found an opportune moment and clipped his knee, after which the black-haired man fell to the ground. The girl cut his head off with her sword with a swing, blood staining her clothes. She beckoned to her friend, and she ran toward the rest of the gunfighters, firing on them as she ran. Lupo winced and turned away, and that's when the walkie-talkie came to life again.
"We're done. Where are you?" Simon asked dryly.
"We'll be there soon. Everything is all right," she answered quickly, seeing another white-haired she-wolf behind her partner, and dashed off in her direction.
The blond man hummed, turned off his walkie-talkie, and walked to the battle-scarred window overlooking the outskirts of Lungmen. He took off his now dirty T-shirt and leaned against the glass, doing his favorite pastime - mentally selecting the soundtrack for the moment. As he picked out a lyrical composition, he hummed contentedly, and began to admire the view.
After all, he liked Lungman a lot more than Rome. Gleaming skyscrapers contrasted vividly with the gloomy boxes, and the motley inhabitants scurrying here and there felt alive, unlike the gray crowd. "Makarych was right," thought Simon, looking at the colored signs, "Lungmen is a city of life, not death, like Rome."
Bison was back. And yes, the blond guessed it, the sunken cheeks and pale face gave him away. He walked up to Simon, measured him with an unblinking stare. The man did not react, continuing to stare out the window. The bison turned away and then Simon suddenly broke the silence.
"I offered. Stand guard... Stay on the lookout. I'll do it myself." The lad turned around in anger to hear a scornful "Fool."
He didn't know what to say, so he just leaned back against the wall, away from him, scowling.
Finally Texas and Exu returned. Sankta looked wildly tired yet content, her friend just tired. Texas shook Simon's hand, appreciating his firm grip, and asked how it had gone. He said as well as ever. Bison shook its head and tail weakly, confirming his words.
"Well, then, it's party time and apple pie!" The sankta sang in a cheerful voice.
"She has a lot of energy," answered her friend to Simon's unasked question. "By the way, who will be driving?"
"You, of course!" Exusiai said cheerfully, and patted her head. Texas frowned, but finally gave in, and warmed up.
"Sounds like I'm already invited."
"Yeah." He didn't argue, and just followed the company.
As they walked, Simon marveled at one strange thing: Bison reacted normally to the violence. He was frightened, vomiting, droopy. Sankta, on the other hand, reacted abnormally. I mean, not at all. She was bouncing along, as if she'd come out of a fancy party, not a blood-soaked building. Spilled by her own hands.
"Uh, Exusiai?"
"Yes?" She paused, staring at him intently.
"Is it..." he paused, too, trying to find the words. "Okay for you to have fun after killing dozens of people?"
"What's wrong with that? They were going to hell anyway, I just made room for them. What's wrong with that?" She said that last part of her sentence with a certainty that she was right. Simon grinned at her and said nothing.
So they walked to a truck parked on the next street. A "Penguin Logistics" logo was proudly emblazoned on the side of the truck, along with a couple of dents. Signs of shootouts and chases, frequent guests of the delivery process, were visible everywhere.
Texas jumped behind the wheel, Exu settled in on the right, and Simon and Bison in the back. The engine growled, and the car moved.
12:01 - August 1 - 1099
(Ghostnotes - Alchemy).
The crew reached the "Penguin Logistics" branch without incident. On the way, they stayed a bit longer buying beer and snacks to go with it. All the while, a pop song written by Sora, a friend of Texas, was playing. She hummed to herself turning the steering wheel, and an exhilarated Exu hummed at the top of her voice. Simon scolded at the "soulless shit," but then took out his walkman and calmed down.
Finally they reached the warehouse, a small hangar in the middle of the high-rises. Texas parked, and the company piled in.
"Nice place you got here," Simon remarked when the lights clicked on and a large room opened up before him.
Endless boxes, crates, containers were everywhere. One corner was freed from them and settled. If desired, staff could play poker there, settled around a couple of couches and a round table.
"The boss likes to have everything at his fingertips," Exusiai answered, noticing the look in her guest's eyes. It was directed at the crates that took up most of the hangar.
"I've never had so much stuff."
The girl didn't answer, preoccupied with the kettle. While the kettle was boiling, Simon continued to look around the room. On the table was a map of the city, laid instead of a tablecloth. Next to it on the wall hung a television. "Plasma," the man noted with a little envy.
Next, his gaze slid over the shelves. Medals, cups, contracts-all of these were not of much interest to him. Instead, he looked at the books. First up was a large Lungman atlas, which was a more detailed version of the map on the table. Next was a string of teen novels. Among them was an orphaned collection of poems by a Syracuse classic. And on the bottom shelf was a huge pile of comic books and fashion magazines.
Guest grinned and sipped his tea into a mug brought by sankta. The whole company settled down on the couches. Texas was surprised to see Bison sitting with her and Exusiai. He looked at his guest with ill-concealed fear, his posture tense.
"Bison?" Lupo called to him. "Is everything all right?"
"Y-yes."
Texas looked at him, thought, and decided that a friendly sit-down would help the guy relax. She poured some tea into his mug, and pulled out some chips. Her calculation worked: Bison was distracted by the snacks and calmed down a bit. Exu, on the other hand, chirped something happily and flopped down on the couch.
At first the tea party was silent. Everyone was so engrossed, they didn't feel like talking. Exu recovered quickly, though, and had already begun chattering about something, like discounts on ammunition. As he listened to her chatter, Simon began to glare at Bison, trying to get inside his head and make him nervous. Texas tried to understand what he was trying to understand, and sankta chuckled, noting the absurdity of the situation, but then she looked at the huddled bull-boy and involuntarily pulled her smile away.
"You know what, I'm going to step back for a few minutes," guy stood up abruptly from the table. "Go on without me." On trembling legs he walked away toward the bathroom.
Texas and Simon looked at each other. She saw genuine concern in his gaze. His hunch was correct: he got up, and followed the boy, wanting to find out what was wrong.
The bathroom door was locked. Simon listened attentively. There were indistinct noises that sounded like confused speech, but as he listened the noises changed into a prayer.
"Lord, forgive and have mercy, Lord, forgive and have mercy, Lord, forgive and have mercy..." the frightened, high-pitched voice kept repeating.
Immediately the man understood. The reprisal frightened the boy. He sat down, leaning against the door, wondering what he should do. The voice fell silent, and then cautiously asked:
"Mr. Simon? Is that you?"
"Yes."
He fell silent. The blond man thought for a while, and then turned to the boy:
"I scared you. I'm sorry. You should have stayed outside."
There was no answer.
"Are you a religious?"
There was a timid "Yes."
"Why did you come with us? You knew what was coming." There was a touch of reproach in Simon's voice.
"Well..." said Bison, "I wanted to be tough. Mr. Emperor wants me to be tough. A man, as he puts it."
"You listen to that penguin rapper instead of thinking for yourself. I see."
Blond grinned. In his opinion, Bison was a boy, not a man. He lacked masculinity, toughness, temper, and voice. Bison was not pushed around, his company was not bad, but the bar was set for him by others.
"You know, a wise man once said: a normal, good man wants to be himself, because other roles are busy," Simon held out a pause. "Kid, you either take off the cross or quit the messenger service."
"Mr. Simon, you've got it wrong," the man realized from the confusion in his speech that his words were in the right place. "I understand that sometimes you have to kill, it's not a sin if you have to. But what we did..."
"Yes, indeed. Still, you didn't think with your head, you listened to the redhead and the penguin. And whose fault is that?"
"But Mr. Simon," Bison's voice lowered, and he found it more pleasant to listen to him. "You needed help. After all, I specialize in protecting my teammates."
"I told you I don't need help. But," said guest, he thought suddenly. "You know, it's nice that they do think about you. I'm not used to a friendly shoulder."
The sobs finally subsided. Even the light stopped flickering faintly now and then. It's time to call it a day.
"All right. Remember, kid: be yourself and stick to your principles. Then any massacre will be avoided." the blonde shared the wisdom of life.
There was a muffled "Uh-huh" from behind the door, and then it opened. A bison came out with a wet face, small horns glistening with water. Simon's face smoothed involuntarily: he had straightened one lad's mind. The man even envied him, for in his youth he had learned life by himself. He patted the boy on the shoulder, and they went back to the couches.
Lupo gave the boys a worried look, but sighed with relief when Bison gave her a thumbs-up. The stone was lifted, and even the chips tasted good again. Sankta, on the other hand, simply asked the boy if everything was all right, got an affirmative answer and continued to chirp about hers.
The tea had long since been drunk, beer had taken its place, and her conversations began to look more and more like mush. Slowly, Simon, who was gradually getting drunk, found it difficult to understand what she was saying about the hard life of couriers, or how she was raving about a new collection of clothes. The man got bored and asked Texas to turn on the television.
"Still, I believe that the problems of poverty and destitution in Syracuse should not be silenced," from the screen came a confident voice, belonging to a young Liberi with brown feathers. "These are people like us who need understanding and support."
"Oh, Darlett." Exusiai reached for a chip, but when she heard the voice, she stopped. "Here we go again."
From Simon came an interested, "And who is this?"
"Columbian war journalist, part-time blogger. Popularizer of beggar's holes like my homeland or Bolivar and just a muddy type," responded Texas.
"I hate Syracuse and Volsinia in particular, but I can wish him good luck."
"We must figure out what the main problem is," broadcasted the journalist, not the least bit embarrassed by the words of the spectator. "But for now we must admit one thing: the famous Syracuse Mafia is only the consequence, not the cause, of the decline."
"Come on," Exu interjected. "If you kill all the hatterers, they'll stop tyrannizing the people. Ain't I right?"
"Yes, red, you're wrong," hotly objected blond. "That journo is right about one thing: the Mafia is the tops. And the roots are the fool in Signora Sicilia. It's been a long time, and she hasn't brought the country out of poverty, bitch."
"Yes, Capo dei capi is a senile woman," Texas agreed. "But you left out an important detail. Mafia tradition's been in the making for years. There is no escaping the truth, so the only way to clear Sicily of the Mafia is to redraw the whole country, and that means wars and crises. All in all, it's complicated."
Bison, on the other hand, just sat there and piled on the snacks, not knowing what to say. And so when all eyes turned to him, waiting to hear what he had to say, the guy just shrugged and agreed with Texas. Simon, impressed by her insight, did the same. The reporter kept urging to turn the place upside down, but to find the Mafia bastards' accomplices, so the company soon got bored and the channel was switched.
The party went on. There were more and more cans on the floor. Simon asked if it was okay to throw them on the floor, to which a tired Exusiai laughed and jokingly ordered not to sweat about it. The guest actively continued destroying the beer, and surprisingly quickly passed out after that, the sankta was snoozing on her friend's shoulder. Her warm breath tickling her hair and the alcohol made Texas' relaxed face blush and her consciousness slowly begin to fade.
"Hey," Simon turned to the falling asleep girl. "You're from Syracuse, too, aren't you? Were you in the Mafia?"
"Oh, what? Mafia?" The question snapped her out of her slumber. "Yes. I was." She looked down. Simon was tactful enough to understand the delicacy of the subject, but it didn't stop him.
"I wondered, how did you leave in the first place?"
"It's a long story. It all started with one unfortunate raid. I foolishly took a bullet, and I wouldn't have survived if it hadn't been for two kind people. One of them carried me on his shoulder and carried me away like prey," she smiled at the small joke. "Then walked out, the other convinced him to do it. He was young and handsome, and he also refused a reward for my rescue. Money, favors, even a body." A sad sigh interrupted her story. Lupo was silent for a moment, and then she continued. "I only kissed the guy goodbye. I still remember his azure eyes."
"Romantic," Simon remarked. "But one incident was enough to make you leave?"
"No. It just planted a seed of doubt in me. I realized that honor exists outside the criminal world. And when I got home, the eldest member of my family couldn't restrain his ambition, and we all paid the price. By this point I was doubting myself, my life, but I didn't leave of my own free will. I fled here to escape persecution, but in the end I regret nothing. Syracuse is my past, so let it be."
"What a family you have. You might as well put on a play," he chuckled. His companion grimaced and turned away. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... It's just that my family ended up in a more mundane and meaningless way. At the hands of your fellow mobsters, by the way."
The girl shook her head, little hurt by his quip. She understood people like him perfectly well now, so instead of being offended, she gently dismissed her sleeping friend, and made herself comfortable for conversation.
"Actually, Family was family to me. Its destruction was a blow to me. Sicily is a land of relatives. You have to go with your kin to the end, for that is the wolf's tradition. It's a double-edged sword, for more often than not the family business is messy, but at home it gave a sense of comradeship. Here in Lungmen, everyone is so lonely..."
"But you ran away," Simon remarked.
"Should I have shared the family's fate?" Texas scowled.
"None of us is exactly perfect... All it takes is a man, and there is an article..." said the guest philosophically. His remark coincided with the sound of a passing truck outside the window. Lupo flinched, but as she realized it was not the boss, calmed down. Suddenly the guest snapped his fingers. - Oh, maybe this picture is about you. I think there's a picture of a lupus in it. - He started out out of the blue.
"What picture?" Texas didn't understand his question.
"But I remember Son had gray ears..." He persisted in trying to remember.
"What were you talking about?"
The blond realized for the second time that Texas wasn't reading his mind. He spat, and, thinking how good it would be to blow pot with her for understanding, clarified to her what he meant.
"*The return of the Prodigal Son.*? But there are vulpoes drawn there. The father has a red tail, as does the son."
"No, those are wolves, you seem to be talking about the wrong picture."
"The only one who got the picture wrong is you, Simon."
"No, wolfie, their ears are gray, and you can't see their tails there at all!"
A drunken altercation began. The argument got heated, and on emotion they got up from their couches. Texas began to move toward Simon in a threatening fashion, but she tripped over Bison, who was lying on the floor, and flew to the floor. Her opponent picked her up in his arms with unexpected levity. Bison, who had passed out at the start of the party, mumbled, and rolled onto his other side.
The girl was surprised, bared her teeth., and immediately bit her savior on the fingers. Simon didn't realize it right away, so he didn't hear a cry until a few seconds later. He collapsed drunkenly behind the couch, dragging Texas behind him. She wasn't the least bit embarrassed by the strange scuffle, and she pushed her guest into the floor.
Apparently Texas was tougher than she looked: the alcohol she had drunk was enough to pin the man's hands to the floor. The warm breath of the drunken Lupo hit Simon in the face.
"You should be punished for your illiteracy," the girl whispered, and licked the blond's cheek, wagging her tail.
"Will the hunter become prey? Heh, not gonna happen." He deftly shifted his position, finding himself on top, but instead of continuing the game, he stood up.
The man's plan was to finish the last of the can and go to sleep. Simon no longer cared that he was in someone else's territory, the alcoholic slumber was too sweet. The man looked at the girl who had closed her eyes, gently nudged her with his foot. No reaction. Apparently, she fell asleep so fast. He took her in his arms and tucked her in with her friend.
After a few minutes, Simon found the blankets with which he had covered the sleeping girls, put Bison beside them. It seemed to him that their breathing was inexplicably synchronized. Something rhythmic sounded in his head and made him stand and beat a beat with his foot. Finally Simon came to his senses and lay down on the floor, tucking a stuffed penguin under his head.
"Good night," he said loudly, knowing no one would hear him.
9:03 - August 2 - 1099
A ray of sunlight rested exactly on the right eye of Texas. She stretched out, rolled over onto her other side, and continued her serene slumber. She was roused from this slumber by the noise of a running faucet. With a look of universal annoyance on her face, she propped herself up on her elbows and opened her eyes.
The room was the same as yesterday. Still the same brown couches, still the same dark glass table. The surroundings are all the same. Except there was a change: the traces of last night's drunkenness were gone. Texas looked at Bison in surprise. No, asleep. Exusiai she crossed out at once, her friend always shifting the honorable responsibility of cleaning up to others.
"Simon..."
"Good morning." The guy confirmed her hunch.
Texas followed the voice and into a small kitchen. The Emperor was rich enough to allow his staff to order food, and so the dinner set here was gathering dust. Simon turned out to be one of the rare guests here; the second guest was Bison, who sometimes dropped by to wash dishes after parties.
She could not believe her eyes: the guest looked younger. He'd gone from a grim, bristly man who looked like a noir comic book hero to... a guy. Well, his face had smoothed out enough to take off an extra five years. And his corners of his lips, perpetually slightly lowered, now formed an even line with his mouth, giving his face a relaxed expression.
"Thank you, but that's what Bison is for," said Texas with a slight smile.
"Not used to relying on anyone but myself."
Gloved hands carefully soaped the mug with the Penguin Logistics logo on it, paying particular attention to the handle. Texas fell into a little trance as she watched Simon's quick, confident movements sweep up the traces of last night's party. "The master's case is afraid," she thought.
Yes, one can watch someone's masterful work forever, Lupo was in complete agreement. She stood, leaning against the wall, watching and enjoying as her guest wiped the table, treated the couch he was sitting on. Then she was distracted from her musings by the janitor's question.
"Your hair is interesting. Do you dye it?" Simon paid her an unexpected compliment.
"Yes."
"Did you come up with the idea to dye the inside red yourself?"
"Yes, I did." Texas smiled with an embarrassed look.
"It looks familiar. Like I've seen that look before, a long time ago... And then again." He turned his head toward her and, squinting slyly, said, "You slept on me tonight."
Her eyes widened in amazement. Lupo blushed thickly and slid down the wall.
"You are so warm and pleasant to the touch. I like it." Simon finished her off with a friendly smile.
"Y-Yes..." Texas muttered, but then she pulled herself together and stood up.
"You're supposed to be a she-wolf, not a cat, but you lie down where it's warmer."
The answer was an indignant "I was drunk." Simon grinned, satisfied with her reaction and said he would leave soon.
"And those strange compliments were part of goodbye. I see," noted Lupo.
"Uh-huh," briefly nodded the guy. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?"
"For the get-togethers. That's how I sat with Makarych last time. Oh, Makarych..." He sighed sadly, leaving Texas to wonder who Makarych was, and said with a smile. "You know, if you're alone for too long, you can go crazy."
Texas sighed, tired of the guy's riddles, and went to clean herself up. Her usual morning routine began. The girl sat in the bathroom for a long time, brushing and styling her hair. Finally she was satisfied with the sight of her hair and fur perfectly styled, glistening in the morning light, and returned to her room.
Immediately on her return she was horrified: the room was almost in the same condition as it had been when they had arrived yesterday. Simon had meticulously restored yesterday's surroundings. He may have even deleted the viewing history on the television. But then her suddenly awakened intuition went silent once she realized that her guest, unlike many of her work colleagues, cleaned up after the party. Texas appreciated not having to bother with cleaning up, after all.
She caught Simon getting ready to leave at the big hangar door. He had already gathered himself and was fumbling around the wall, looking for an opening button. Finally he found it and pressed it with his elbow.
"Hey," Texas called out to him. "Thanks for cleaning up."
"You're welcome," after a little hesitation, Simon replied.
"Listen..." she looked shy, but then asked firmly. "Where do you live?"
"In..." he hesitated. "The South. The thirteenth ward, I suppose."
"All right," she closed her eyes and thought about something, and then it came out of her mouth, "Maybe we'll see each other sometime?
"It's all by chance," the man answered vaguely.
When the conversation was over, Simon strode off into the sunrise. He got up quite early, Texas usually slept longer. She was not yet fully awake, and so the figure of his guest, illuminated by the morning sun, was like a melting ghost. Suddenly he turned around and gave her a long, suspicious look.
"Shall we exchange numbers?" He suggested, facing the girl half-turned."
"Why?"
"Well, our acquaintance should not go to waste."
She shrugged, and agreed without further ado. Texas had already realized the guy had something to hide, so she didn't burst into his soul. The guy wrote down a sequence of numbers beginning with plus nine, and jokingly said he was available any day of the week.
"Just don't tell your boss about me, please," he shouted from a distance. "I don't think he'd appreciate all sorts of rogues in his fiefdom."
Simon walked off into the dawn, snapping his fingers to the beat of the music from his headphones, and leaving Texas food for thought. The girl, who had seen him off, yawned, thought for a while, and went on to sleep. Soon she was asleep again. She dreamt of the blond visitor.