- What nonsense it turns out to be, - Bragin said thoughtfully, - can all this really be like this? Why do they even need it - gays everywhere, schizophrenics in governments, importation of all these Arabs, multiculturalism.
- Well, a new man, a new society. Man is now moving away from the village psychotype even further than your city wimp. This is no longer a wimp, but an amoeba. An amoeba. And at the same time, no one forbids living in the village. You understand, this is about something else.
- What a happy ending to the story.
- This is not a happy ending, these amoeba people will think that the happy ending has arrived. At the same time, they will be excellent engineers, scientists, mechanics and oil workers. A very obedient herd. And governments are the same puppets.
- I can't believe you.
- And there is no need. The most interesting thing is that this scheme does not quite work. And here is the most interesting thing.
- What else is interesting about you? I think that's enough.
- This whole concept with globalism, perverts of all kinds, multiculturalism and a happy ending is a dummy. It is a socio-political pseudoscience. A cart with a fifth wheel. It may all work, but badly.
- What?
- Not clear?
- No.
- Scientists and intellectuals tried to imagine an image of the future. They imagined, and some even took something psychotropic. They were not engaged in these arts on their own - often such people are supported by big business bosses. For various reasons. And all this brew fermented and bubbled and formed such an eccentric ideology. This community attracted new ones. New ones went there, including for money, for earnings. It is a sect. There are their own showdowns, groups. In very large sects, too.
- One is no easier than the other, - Bragin grinned, although he began to feel that something was becoming clear.
- The members of the sect are not some kind of ragamuffins. Some are intellectuals, professors. You know, the kind with patches on their sleeves. It's not because of poverty - it's fashionable. An attribute of an intellectual. Other sectarians are politicians. Small ones for now, but more and more will follow. And of course, big business. Some share their beliefs, some just joined because it's convenient. Some have both in varying proportions. Rockwell is a big figure. One of those who wants to lead this movement. And yes, this sect doesn't have any formalization.
- What?
- Formalization. There is no ritual of entry, no distinguishing marks like triangles with an eye. No special greeting or secret address to each other. In ordinary sects, this usually happens, but this sect is not quite ordinary. Nevertheless, it is still a cult.
- So, judging by what you say, nothing will work out for them anyway?
- Why won't it work out? Purposeful work, planning - and everything will work out. But I'm telling you - it will be a cart with a fifth wheel. But being the boss of this cart is not bad either. That is the goal of Rockwell's activity. And of people like him. For them, the goals of the cult are rational - when everything works out, they will be the masters. But the commoner will then, in two hundred years, scratch his head and ask himself - "why did that happen?" Unlike them, RRSA are more rational and their cart has four wheels. There, rationalism is clearly visible to everyone at all levels. The rationality of that world order is clear to the super-billionaire. And a worker beaten with a police baton, even if angry and dissatisfied, will clearly understand why he was beaten and why. And in general, he will not be beaten so often. Everything is not as gloomy as in Soviet propaganda. Now do you understand the difference?
- So, everything that happened here is... a sectarian sabbath?
- In essence, yes.
- How can this be... This is a complete... - Bragin cursed, then apologized.
- But you charged the water. And you are surprised. It was just recently.
- It all started there with scientists speaking out. And speaking on TV. We believed in TV. And they still believe it.
- So there are scientists there too. Just not on TV. Pseudoscience sometimes arises. You had one under Stalin, too. Agricultural.
- Do you know that?
- Yes, I know. It happens. Stalin's lasted five to seven years. Charging the water... less. This globalist one is more thorough than even Stalin's. Yes, pay attention, they don't even aim for the entire globe. It's just a name.
- The street where the houses stood was the most ordinary, paved. There were no multi-story buildings in sight - just roofs with mansards and poplars. And a dark sky. It all reminded me of that picture when a nearby night lightning illuminates the surroundings with almost daylight. Then for a few moments such a surreal picture reigns with day below and night sky above.
- Do you want coffee? - Landskricht asked.
- Is it here?
- Of course it is. People live here too. And there are machines, I mean, equipment.
- Well, well…
- And when human… when certain people with outstanding abilities get in here, do you know how they manifest themselves here?
- How?
- Like ghosts. They are here. Barely noticeable. Well, ghosts, like ghosts.
- So that's how it is… - Bragin said thoughtfully.
- Do you know what it takes to make him go away, to make him disappear, if he gets annoying?
- What?
- Swing a stick, or a fist. As a rule, a person gets scared and goes back there…
- Does everyone do that here?
- It rarely happens. Ghosts are rare. But everyone knows what to do.
Here Landskricht headed towards some cabinet, which turned out to be a vending machine. He really did sell coffee, pouring it into paper cups that appeared from a separate window.
- So, this is what the ideal world looks like, - said Bragin, taking the cup from Landskricht's hands.
- Idealia - it doesn't come from the word "perfect", - she answered, - it's like a world of ideas. Not in the sense of the ideas of communism. The world of higher nervous activity. And not necessarily higher.
- So that's it...
- Now I'll tell you what they wanted to do to you and why.
- It's high time.
- First, about what they did. They put you in the attic in a semi-conscious state. They put you with a rifle. Just like a real sniper. A rifle that had been fired at. They threw spent cartridges nearby. You prepared the fate of becoming famous as such... Like Oswald. You know him. The goals will be partially achieved even if you don't fire a single shot and you are found dead. Sniper-addict. Overdose.
- Here Bragin felt something inside him tighten. Despite the fact that being in this Ideal seemed to dull the emotions, what he heard now had, so to speak, a certain penetrating force.
- And what, that's all? - Bragin said in a stifled voice.
- Don't worry. I'm with you. You'll Survive.
- Sounds like it, - Bragin chuckled nervously.
The second is why they did it. It's simple. There is a real group of snipers, eighteen of them, and there are three false ones. That's you and your two friends - electricians. The driver was lucky. He was just waiting for you, then reported you missing and left. The real group should shoot with such efficiency that dropping a five-hundred-pound aerial bomb would hardly have caused more corpses. The shooting is planned for the square and several central streets. The snipers leave, then after some time they find three dead for the reason mentioned above. You were not chosen by chance - you are special service officers, although not very good ones. That's it, you can make a sensation, and it will provide fuel for the development of new events.
- What events?
- Imagine, an ultimatum has been issued to your city and region. Have you heard of it? Oh, no, you couldn't have heard. There is a general Grachev. Yes, in general, a logical step. In general, everything looks like this - an ultimatum has been issued to your city, the situation is nervous, people are sitting in the streets, in their tents, not knowing what to expect. There is shooting. So many rifle bullets, like from a machine gun, only from different places. Helicopter crews receive panicked messages and immediately fly to sort things out. Some have a cannon, some have a machine gunner. Something is shooting from somewhere on the roofs - flashes are visible. There is an automatic device for this, which only produces gunpowder flashes. Wanting to avenge the massacre, the helicopters open fire and smash the roofs of the buildings into dust. All of this is filmed from a height of twenty kilometers - MiGs are flying above you. You have heard these thunderous rumbles from air shock waves more than once. These are MiGs, not American spy planes. The video is immediately sent to Moscow. Yeltsin slams his fist on the table. Grachev commands the landing force to take off and off we go. A hot spot. This time, ethnically Russian. This will be a civil war such as history has never seen. Not in the sense of terrible, although they are all terrible. This one will be unique in its... In the structure of the military process, that's what they call it.
Bragin listened in silence.
- The civil war will not start with one destroyed city, - continued Landskricht, - for the time being it will not need to be destroyed, except for the torn off roofs. The battles will begin on the approaches. Inept battles. Meanwhile, those same unsuccessful snipers will be found in the surviving city. The documentation in the besieged building of your administration will clearly indicate who is who. Plus information on your infrasound installation.
- I am both a sniper and an engineer for a secret installation?
- To make a sensation, several sensations, that will do. The media will get involved, mostly foreign ones. The fighting will subside, as will the hot spot. However, the debriefings will be more painful than the skirmish itself. Investigations, scandals, declassified materials. In less than a year, a powerful political crisis and then a civil war. This is the globalists' plan.
- And what to do now?
- Everything would be so, but RRSA is not interested in this. Don't think that they are friends of your Russia, they are simply not interested. And someone also left a computer with communication contacts. These are phone numbers and email addresses. Also, some bank account numbers for small expenses. These are exits to underground terrorist networks financed by the globalists. And then a spy, a CIA agent, took and copied this data and sent it via satellite to his own. As a result, a bunch of accounts, other accounts, important ones, were blocked. Someone was captured. Basically, all the plans were ruined. The snipers and their leader, having received such news, immediately left. That's what happens when you leave a computer.
- And who left it?
- Me.
- Did you do it on purpose?
- Well, since you didn't understand, I'll answer - yes, on purpose. And I looked like a fool on purpose, too. Pills, all that.
- Well, if you're not lying... I don't even know...